Creative Writing Anthology

Somerset County Teen Arts Program 2015

The Somerset County Creative Writing Anthology is a component of the an- nual Somerset County Teen Arts Festival Program. Students’ creative writing is submitted to respected professional writers and/or Geraldine R. Dodge Poets who review the submissions and offer written critiques for each student. The professional writers engaged commend the students’ strong points and offer con- structive suggestions for improving particular aspects of their work.

At the festival, students attend feedback sessions to discuss the work in the anthology with the critique writers. Additionally, students are encouraged to attend Creative Writing workshops on a variety of subjects led by the visiting writers.

As a complement to school districts’ regular English classes, the Somerset County Teen Arts Creative Writing component offers students the opportunity to work directly with professional writers and poets who encourage them to fine- tune their writing skills while offering helpful hints into the creative process.

The Somerset County Cultural & Heritage Commission wishes to commend the students whose work appears in the anthology, and hopes the experience will inspire them to continue writing as an expressive art form.

Cover Artwork: Edwin Sibaja Lopez, 19 Bound Brook High School Grade 12

SCHOOLS & STUDENTS

ALEXANDER BATCHO INTERMEDIATE SCHOOL Teachers: Maggie Balzano, Jennifer Fallone, Rachael Lopa

Arroyo, Samantha……………………………………………………………………………………………….7 Betancourt, Joel………………………………………………………………..………………………………...8 Castro, Maria……………………………………………………………………….…………………………..10 Cruz, Samantha…………………………………………………………………..…………...………………..12 Dolores, Berania……………………………………………………………………...………………………...13 Mayhuire, Johe…………………………………………………………………………………………………14 Mercado, Tatyana……………………………………………………………………………………………....17 Mora, Michelle…………………………………………………………………………………………………18 Romero, Michelle…………………………………………………………………………………….………...20 Scarpantonio, Maria……………………………………………………………………………………………22 Sharbaugh, John………………………………………………………………………………………………..25 Slater, Shelby…………………………………………………………………………………..………………27 Vega, Priscila…………………………………………………………………………………………………..30 Yanicek, Katharine……………………………………………………………………………………………..32

BOUND BROOK HIGH SCHOOL Teachers: Sue Del Conte

Fry, Raymond……………………………………………………………………………………………...…...34 Martinez, Jose……………………………………………………………………………………….…………35 Meyers, Emily………………………………………………………………………………………...………..38 Reyes, Pamela………………………………………………………………………………………………….39 Williams, Davian………………………………………………………………………………..……………...40

BRANCHBURG CENTRAL MIDDLE Teachers: Suzanne Updegrove; Marie Cinque; Lisa Leibowitz; Wendy Michels; Justin Rogoff

Boyle, Meredith……………………………………………………………………………………….………..42 Ciurleo, Emily………………………………………………………………………………………….…..…...44 Cleary, Emily…………………………………………………………………………………………………...46 Dailey, Katherine………………………………………………………………………………………..……...49 Duddy, Gianna…………………………………………………………………………………………….……52 Dugenio, Jaden………………………………………………………………………………………..………...53 Gliksman, Alonna………………………………………………………………………………………..……..56 Gooding, Dylan………………………………………………………………………………………….……...57 Hegadorn, Amanda……………………………………………………………………………………………..59 Jones, Tamara ……………………………………………...……………………………………………..…....62 Lagacki, Erin……………………………………………………………………………………………………63 Luger, Taylor……………………………………………………………………………………….…………..66 Marshak, Samantha…………………………………………………………………………………...………..67 Nawrath, Gabriella…………………………………………………………………………………….……….69 O’Neill, Sage…………………………………………………………………………………………….……..71 Taylor, Alexis…………………………………………………………………………………………….…….74 Zaleski, Jade ……………………………………………………………………………………………...……76

HILLSBOROUGH HIGH SCHOOL

Teachers: Kenneth Shindle

Atlas, Michael………………………………………………………………………………………...………...77 Bizzoco, Kevin………………………………………………………………………………………………….78 Ciccarelli, Sydney………………………………………………………………………………………………81 Evers, Brandon………………………………………………………………………………………….………84 Herbert, Janelle………………………………………………………………………………………….……...85 Hollasch, Megan………………………………………………………………………………………...……...86 Johnsen, Olivia………………………………………………………………………………………………….87 Kumar, Rishona………………………………………………………………………………………….……..88

HILLSBOROUGH HIGH SCHOOL continued Moin, Zain……………………………………………………………………………………………...………89 Naroden, Jake ………………………………………………………………………………………………….90 Patel, Sutee……………………………………………………………………………………………………..91 Vrabel, Tyler ………………………………………………………………………………………..………...92

HILLSBOROUGH MIDDLE SCHOOL Teachers: Bill Dixon; Elena Amineddoleh; Nina Presuto

Angelo, Siman……………………………………………………………………………………….…………95 Carew, Patrick …………………………………………………………………………………………………96 Cavagnaro, Thomas ……………………………………………………………………………………………97 Chandaka, Asha ………………………………………………………………………………..………………98 Clark, Kyle ……………………………………………………………………………………………………99 Consentino, Corinne …………………………………………………………………………….……………103 Damle, Nikhil ………………………………………………………………………………………...………104 Dooley, Nick …………………………………………………………………………………………………105 Fox, Mike ……………………………………………………………………………………………….……109 Franco, Victoria ………………………………………………………………………………………………113 Grodzki, Markus ……………………………………………………………………………………..………114 Kelshikar, Shreya ……………………………………………………………………………………………117 Leoni, Corinne ………………………………………………………………………………..………………118 McCormick, Brooke …………………………………………………………………………………….……119 Murphy, Mara ………………………………………………………………………………………..………120 Rodriquez, Ronald …………………………………………………………………………………...………121 Romito, Jillian ………………………………………………………………………………………..………123 Trampe, Stephen …………………………………………………………………………………..…………124 Villano, Karli …………………………………………………………………………………………………125

MANVILLE HIGH SCHOOL Teachers: Kevin Caldwell; Erika Barney; David Giantisco

Bailey, Jamier …………………………………………………………………………………...……………126 Chachowski, Richard ………………………………………………………………………………...………127 Ciuksza, Amy ………………………………………………………………………………………...………130

MANVILLE HIGH SCHOOL continued Hidalgo-Cruz, Tamara ………………………………………………………………………………………113 Hvizdak, Michaela ……………………………………………………………………………….…………135 Kunjumon, Snehel ………………………………………………………………………………..…………138 LeVay, Carley ………………………………………………………………………………………………141 Michalski, Ashley ………………………………………………………………………………..…………143 Munguia, German ……………………………………………………………………………………..……144 Sisakova, Dana …………………………………………………………………………………...…………145 Spencer, Zach …………………………………………………………………………………….…………146 Walker, Emily ………………………………………………………………………………………………147 Wanjohi, Victoria ………………………………………………………………………...…………………148

THE PURNELL SCHOOL Teachers: Amy Wood

Gardener, Dejah……………………………………………………………………………………………..149 Jarvis, Julia…………………………………………………………………………………...…….………..151 Lewis, Nia…………………………………………………………………………………………….……..153 McDonal, Lexi…………………………………………………………………………………………...….154 Tian, Jessica (Yunuo)………………………………………………………………………………….…….157

Artwork

Arias, Esteban - Alexander Batcho Intermediate School………………………………………...…………..24 Ayerdis, Samantha - Bound Brook High School………………………………….…………….…………...41 Berisha, Shefkije Alexander Batcho Intermediate School………………...….……………….…...……….112 Chandara, Julie - Bound Brook High School…………………………………………...………………….132 Fillmore, Charli - Bound Brook High School………………………………………….…………….………51 Jimenez, Natalia - Alexander Batcho Intermediate School…………………………………..……………...58 LoMonte, Molly - Bound Brook High School……………………………………………………………….29 Nunez, Amy - Bound Brook High School…………………………………………….…………….……….66 Remache, Melanie - Bound Brook High School…………………………………………..……..………….73 Sarboukh, Aimee - Bound Brook High School…………………………………………….……..………..142 Wayne, Michella - Bound Brook High School…………………………………………...………….……..156

ALEXANDER BATCHO INTERMEDIATE SCHOOL

Memories

Why dwell on the past when you can live in the present

Memories are just diluted and often embellished ideals from ones past. Rarely, if ever, are the thoughts and actions “remembered” the truth of the event. How is one supposed to diagnose their own problem and personal demons when the instances that shaped them into who they are cannot be recalled as they truly were?

Ones soul eats away at them every living second when faced with unresolved problems. They break under pressure and fall, where they resort to cowering in fear of daily life.

A simple human does not know to forget, because we are forced to remember. Remember our own freakish dilutions of things as they eat us from the inside out. We slowly die from our own minds without realizing it, our own memories burning us alive in a way.

Why dwell on the past when we can live in the present?

Samantha Arroyo Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County Grade 8

Believe "Hey Daddy how was work?" Jessica asked politely with a smile on her face.

“Nothing much, or least nothing interesting," Ray chuckled.

"Are we still going to the diner to celebrate our seven week anniversary of us living here?" asked Jessica eagerly.

“Of course we are honey," responded Ray happily.

Both Ray and Jessica got ready and they drove off to The Metro Diner. There, Ray ordered his 8 oz. Sirloin steak and Jessica ordered chicken nuggets, like they always did.

"Breaking News!" bellowed out of the retro television in the old fashioned diner, "There has been an outbreak of a mysterious virus called, Solanum. Let's go live to the scene."

"Hello, this is Gabriel Murillo live in Manhattan, just outside St. Richards's Hospital where there has been an outbreak of Solanum - I am getting word that the patients are...what?!"

The reporter glanced back. To his absolute terror he saw revolting, pale green, lifeless creatures wearing hospital robes and pounding on the frail hospital door until the glass shattered. The cameraman dropped the camera and the reporter stood there in shock until the zombies ate him. Ray covered Jessica's eyes, afraid of what she would witness.

“Jess, take your things we are leaving," Ray said quietly and Jessica obeyed without saying a word.

About five weeks later, Ray opened the door to his house. Jessica trudged down the steps and she did not greet her dad happily or at all this time. Greeting was a waste of time.

"Did you get ammo?" asked a careless, dull Jessica.

"Yeah," said Ray as he showed her the bag and shook around the bullets. The sound of the little metal morsels crashing together was one Ray had gotten used to over the past couple of weeks.

"Hey Jessica, we need to talk," Ray said, signaling her to follow him to the dining room.

"I've decided that the best thing to do with all this danger, I mean, zombies, is to find shelter right outside of the C.D.C. We are taking a road trip, so pack your things," said Ray.

They got into to Ray's old pickup truck and the sound of the engine was one that Jessica loved and comforted her through the chaos. Ruuuuuuum! Rum! Rum! Rum! Rum! Rum!

Betancourt 8

The father and daughter were off to the Center for Disease Control. As they approached the C.D.C. 's quarantine zone, there seemed to be more zombies.

"Jess we're gonna have to get outta the truck, there are too many of them," Ray said reluctantly. "On the count of three we run," said Ray as he cocked his shotgun, "One, two ...three!"

Holding hands, they ran as fast as they could, taking a detour into an abandoned building where they took shelter for the night. Ray put Jessica to sleep on an old worn out mattress they found, while he laid down on the floor and slept. They awoke to a terrible sound.

"ARGH!" the zombies groaned as they pounded on the planks. Ray panicked and scanned the abandoned building for anything that could save them. He noticed Jessica's earrings.

Jessica took of her earring as fast as she could. Ray took the earrings and spotted a metal trash can. He chucked the earring at the can. DINK! He peacefully watched the lifeless creatures limp toward the noise. His plan had worked, so he and Jessica ran. The quarantine zone was very near. Suddenly, Jessica fell down.

"Daddy, I - I think broke my ankle it really hur - OW!" cried Jessica as she lay on the dirt road, " It really hurts. I can't even move my leg and can't move on it either. Just go on without me. At least you'll survive."

Looking down the road, seeing zombies, Ray said, "No, Jess I won't leave. You need to believe you can survive. You need to believe you can face the zombies. You need to believe you can go that distance. You need to believe you can get up on that one leg and hop to safety because that what life is about, believing. If you don't believe in yourself than what's the point?"

Jessica looked back at the zombies and they were no more than 200 feet away. She painfully got up and held on to her dad and together they hopped to the C.D.C.'s quarantine zone.

Joel Betancourt, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School, Manville Somerset County Grade 7

Betancourt 9

Washington Road

Our small town was shocked when Matt Brooks swerved off the end of Washington Road last June. Matt was a senior, just a few weeks from graduating and leaving to go to Rutgers. All the freshmen girls, including me and my best friend Lia, fawned over him. That is, until Mr. Perfect got drunk at a senior party, sped 80 miles an hour around the whole town, and left us all mourning for the whole summer. Driving slower than anywhere else in town, my mom and I always had to pass his memorial on Washington when trying to get to the store, and I always seemed to panic when we did. She wou1d always ask me if I was okay, but when this gorgeous young man passed, I realised I couldn't remember how "okay" felt. Don't get me wrong I wasn't that inlove with Matt to cry over him for my entire three months of freedom, but the damage his death caused me was unbelievable. You see, I wasn't depressed because of Matt, I was depressed because of what happened to him. When I was ten years old, my sister left for college, and after those four years, moved to Chicago, only ever visiting for the occasional Christmas or Thanksgiving. Minor crack shows up in my heart. When I was 12 years old, my mother and father got a divorce, and the man I used to call my Dad left without even telling me he loved me. Slightly bigger crack pierces through my heart. When Matt died, I could have cared less about not seeing his perfect face in the hall the next day. But this death, this demise of a once innocent soul, triggered my heart to snap in half. I wondered how someone so young, someone I somewhat cared for, could just leave like that. I had incredibly selfish intentions when asking this question, because I didn't didn't care about him, I cared about the fact that yet another person left. Being the naive teenage girl I am, I thought I could just let the emotions I felt fix themselves, that doing nothing would piece my heart back together. For the longest time I told myself "Jazz, these feelings are invalid, people have it worse than you." That was probably the worst mistake I could have made. As I got older, this sense of neglect caused me to form a chrysalis around myself purposefully rejecting friendship or relationships, because I was petrified of being left alone. Contrary to the walls I had built around myself the only person I let in was my best friend, Lia, a ball of fire who was my complete opposite. Her quirky persona lighted my dark life, and our friendship was the most stable thing I'd known in a long time. Not to mention, she was the only person that I'd ever told about my desolation. After telling her about my affliction, I made her promise not to tell our school's counselor, or worse, my mother. Castro 10

fearful thoughts of these people knowing about my depression encompassed my mind, for one, our counselor, Ms.Dunne would never understand. I know this for a fact, because every time I would go in to talk about my schedule or career goals, it seemed like she was on a completely different planet. As for my mother finding out, I dreaded her figuring out that she couldn't help her own daughter. I could only imagine what would happen when she got the bill for the therapist I'd most likely be sent to. In the mean time, Lia was my personal shrink. In the event that I was having an especially grievous day, Lia was the person I could call. The day I needed her the most, was the first time my father had called me in almost three months. You would think that I missed him, or that I would be thrilled to hear from her dad, but he wasn't my "dad" anymore. I broke down after I hung up, and ran past Washington to get to Lia's. As a result, the second I stepped through her door, tears streaming down my face, I just vented to my best friend. For the first time in what felt like forever, she held me by the shoulder and told me a solution that caused my angst. "Jazz, you need to tell someone, Ms.Dunne, or your mom, just tell someone. You can't live like this anymore." "I can't Lia, besides Ms. Dunne won't care and my mom and I would never be able to pay for therapy. You don't get it, this kills me, it kills me that I'm like this! Even if I could, a stupid therapist can't change what goes on around me!" I viciously wiped my cheek and looked down at the blackened stain of makeup on my hand. Just as I was about to leave, she pulled me back into a type of hug that only my mother had ever given me, and she said, "But a therapist can change the way you deal with it." That evening when I got home, I finally told my mother. She cried for the first time I'd seen since the divorce, but for the rest of the night we laid on the living room floor in a comfortable silence, a silence quieter than Matt's memorial assembly. I always thought that if you forgot all the bad things that happened to you that it was inevitable that you would forget all the good things. I never thought that focusing so much on the bad things would attract good things too. That's what therapy has shown me, that my feelings are valid, that comparing your problems to others doesn't make your's any less important. It's taught me that you have to live through the pain to be able to feel true felicity. Now, four months later, I'm driving myself to another weekly appointment with my psychologist, passing Washington Road. And I can finally remember how it feels to be okay.

Maria Castro, 14 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County Castro 8th Grade 11

Lava and Ice

He was the flow from a mountain of neglect And she was a volcano that erupted lava of endearment. Lava that bursted with deliberation and anger Flames rising from her, no longer possessing what she had kept inside for a sustained amount of time.

What was once low key is now high key His algid heart froze in time. A time where he let people in, a time where his barriers were knocked down To where he thought he learned to trust again. Yet people proved him wrong once more Slowly and gradually his icy cold walls started to build an enclosure between himself and society.

This girl of lava and the boy of ice combined to create a beautiful catastrophe Her blazing heart melted his frigid self built wall And his glaciate ways cooled down her outbreak of self destruct Together they created the perfect storm.

Samantha Cruz, I 3 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 81h grade

Love Never Existed

I admit I was afraid to Love, Not just anybody but "him" "He" was the ocean and I was just a girl, Who loved the waves but was completely terrified to swim. Look at what "he" did to me. I wish I never loved "him." Should have never wasted my time. "He" gave me up; I guess I was his second choice? All I wanted to be was "his" everything, everything "he" had ever dreamed of. Look at what "he" destroyed inside me. Everything we had, spending all days in each others' arms, feeling protected. Next time I won't fall for "him".

Berania Dolores, 15 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 8th Grade

Time's Bond

Clank, the metal bat had hit the baseball sending it way out into the outfield. I had heard the crowd cheered me on as this was the winning hit for my team, but this had happened when I was twelve so why am I thinking of it now? A memorable twenty years have passed since then and they were all great for the most part. Got through college, went to medical school and became a doctor. "Whoooo!" The riders on the roller coaster were filled with terror and delight as they flew hundreds of feet into the air. When was this, at age fourteen or fifteen? I couldn’t remember, but all I know was that I was having the time of my life with my mother and father.

Dad had always told me to work hard and study hard for the future as he did.

"A hundred on the S.A.T. s? Atta boy. One day when you'll have a family of your own, your life will be a breeze and you'll look back to moments like these," Father had praised my accomplishment with such pride in his voice. This was a defining moment in my academic career.

"Yes dear, we must do something to commemorate an occasion like this. I know, we'll go get ice cream after dinner," Mother had replied. It was at that moment that the best day of my life turned into one of the worst. When we arrived at the ice cream parlor, I ordered a scoop of vanilla while my parents ordered a milkshake. It was the drive that would turn this night upside down. "Look out for that car!" Those were Mother's final words as that drunk driver would take the life of my Mother and Father while also sparing me.

“You got into Harvard? No surprise considering you take after your father," Grandpa had proclaimed, "If your father could see you now, well he'd be mighty proud," This quickly

reminded me of the last time I was with my parents, the day I killed them.

Then came the second worst day of my life, the day Grandpa was diagnosed with

Alzheimer's. "Oh there you are Davie. How's the old man doing? Bet he's making you study all day,” Grandpa had proclaimed without remembering the fact that Father was dead and that

Grandma and him were all I had.

".All those memories that I had with him were gone as he relived the same day over and over again.

“It's time you realize what has happened Dave," a man from behind Grandpa had stated.

This man wore a black suit that was as dark as a night's sky.

“What do you mean and who are you?" I asked as Grandpa disappeared before my eyes.

“That's not the point right now, all you need to know is that you are dying right now,"

The man responded. Puzzled by how I was "dying", I had begun to look around the room to realize that everything was burning down.

“No, I can't be dying. I have so much potential, I can't die this young," once again I had to suppress the tears only this time it was for my life.

"Ar-are you an angel?" I asked with a slight stutter in my voice.

“You can't escape fate Dave," the man said as the voice faded into the darkness.

“Look out for that car!" Mother screamed as the car collided with ours. Wait I have already seen this before, and this time I'm doing something I should have done a long time ago. As I rose from the destroyed car, I saw him, the man who took my parent's lives. I ran to his car and opened the door while pulling him out to throw him on the ground.

“Now Davie, this is never the answer. Vengeance does not make a man a good person, it only 15

makes a man look petty," I turned around to see my Grandpa once again.

"Grandpa? You're okay!" I shouted in pure joy. After Mother and Father passed, Grandpa always tried to make things better by playing baseball with me or taking me to his landscaping job. Of all the memories I have, those were the best because I felt like a kid not just a student but as child.

“Yes, it's me but I'm not really here. I'm in heaven; remember after two years of being diagnosed with Alzheimer's I died." Grandpa responded.

"Remember, how could I forget? Grandpa after Mother and Father died you were the only one I had left,” I said. “He's just doing his job of taking people to where they deserve to spend their afterlives. I mean he is a reaper." There was calmness in his voice that meant he wasn't kidding.

Wait a reaper! Reapers are the people who reap people's souls. This means I really am dead.

''So I'm dying. Huh, never thought death would be a series of memories," I stated. Then he appeared again, the reaper.

“Yes it is, now Dave I’m giving you a second chance. Go to Heaven or stay here with no body just a spirit," Death offered. "Ok, I'll go if it means I'll be able to see my family again," I responded. Out of nowhere another door appeared this one with an even brighter light. So this was the door to heaven. As I walked through that door I said goodbye to my past life and looked forward to eternity in paradise.

Johe Mayhuire Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 8th Grade

She left her mark on the world

My grandma is my hero She was a strong woman Ahe has walked through sharp rocks and ignored the cuts on her feet

My grandma hid her pain with her perfect smile I hope she will be the light in my darkness

She used to dance in thew rain She left her footprints on the world

My grandma is my super hero She was as bringht as the sun, but even the sun has to set and so did she on April 18,2013

Tatyana Mercado Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County Grade 8

Luminous

"“Jeremiah!" voices call loud and clear i don't know why i cannot hear i've chased dragons with a wooden sword ive flown through clouds across the entire world they tell me it's not real but i know what i see they just don't understand sometimes my mind tends to leave "“Jinx!" i've been locked in a room since five years of age they think i'm a danger i am not known to control my rage i like to jump from heights for a second i fly and when i touch the ground i have no will to cry i'm just a single blaze a simple lightning flare i was never really here but the world doesn't seem to care

Mora 18

"“Juliet!" my life was a chessboard there were pieces to play but i didn't know how it goes and so i lost the game my eyes are a faded jade they lost their color years ago it started when i was just a babe discolored by the pure white snow i'm buried underwater i've forgotten how to swim in this moment i had drowned and the lights began to dim "“Kids?" our ignorance blinds us to the dark side of things keeps away the light that desperately wants in the shadows that ignite our existence swarms in our hearts plaqued by our own nightmares drowning in our own tears woken by the shrill of the moon soothed by the stars shine we're not who they think we are we never were

Michelle Mora Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County Grade 8 Mora 19

Welcome to New Orleans, I Guess …

Hi, I'm Alison, and my life changed on October 5, 2015. That was the day I found out that I had to move to New Orleans. I was going to be the new girl in town and school. I was terrified of this place from all the stories in the news of people disappearing from kidnappings in that specific area. With my mom I felt okay in the town; at least I was not a complete stranger since I knew someone. We moved after my dad hurt my mom for the last time; she was done with him. My mom was alright with the move, since she wanted a new fresh start, even if it meant leaving New Jersey, my family and my friends. We came here about a week before Halloween. This was the biggest mistake ever because my mom knew how important Halloween was to me. I enrolled in Madison Middle School; it was so different from ABIS, my old school. By the time I had settled in, Halloween had passed and I had made no friends. It was okay, though, because I still had my phone. I could text and facetime with my friends, but that was horrible since I barely had any Wi-Fi connection. "Honey, wake up it's your first day at school," my mom said, elated. I didn't make any friends yet, and now I have school. "How fun," I thought. While I was getting dressed, my mom made an innovative recipe of red velvet pancakes. Dessert for breakfast sounded great. It was my first day, but I knew there was something wrong with the school once I walked in. I didn't know what was wrong with this place. Once I got my locker combination from the main office, I walked to the locker 13B. Everybody looked at me like I had a spider on my head, but I didn't care on what they were whispering. I just walked to my locker and as I got there, there was a brief silence. I put in the numbers, 12-7-20, and opened it up. As it opened, out fell a dead rat! "Ahhh!" I screamed, with so much fear. It was horrible and scary because I hate insects and animals. I was terrified. As school ended, I walked home from that horrible place. As I walked, I seemed to notice that all the houses looked the same, except my house. It was the ugly duckling, the strange one, not normal. I got home and my mom was still at work, so I was alone most of the time. I mostly stayed upstairs, in my room, to watch Netflix, and went to the kitchen for movie snacks every now and then. Suddenly, I heard a noise come from downstairs. I was about to shout "Mom," but stopped when I noticed her car was not in the driveway. Romero 20

I was so confused, who could it be? I got under my bed and stayed there, not making a sound. My doorknob turned and a man walked into my room. All I saw were his black shoes walking on the wood floor. He seems like a big man and I don't know what to do. I want to scream but before I can even get the sound out, he leaves my room. The downstairs door slammed shut, so I got out from under my bed. I crept downstairs and saw a plethora of boxes on the floor, scattered all around. While cleaning the mess off the floor and putting random things in boxes, I hear a car pull up on the driveway. It's my mom! She comes in and kisses me on the head. "How was your day?" she asks. As I was about to tell her what happened, she told that me today the house inspector was supposed to come for an inspection while she was not there. "Why would he come when you're not at home?'' I asked my mother, thinking that it was very strange. I guess New Orleans has some different rules than New Jersey; at least I can relax now.

Michelle Romero, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School, Manville Somerset County Grade 7

Romero 21

Onyx

My day starts off facing the wall. My neon green rope halter is tied to a metal ring that is screwed into the aged oak beam bolted to the wall. There is an empty section on the floor where my nightly snack of hay was, at least until I got to it. My green water bucket is three quarters of the way full, as it always is by this time of morning. Everything seems to be in order. And according to my natural clock, Gem is supposed be bringing my delicious serving of breakfast any minute now. Gem is one of the stable workers, and she is the only stable worker that can fully tend to my needs. Mainly because she knows me very well and understands how I think, how I like things, and how I need things. I would consider her my best friend. Speaking of Gem, I think she's on her way here. I hear her gentle footsteps gracefully walking on the old weathered creaky floorboards. As usual, I give her a loud friendly neigh to welcome my dear friend. To my surprise, it was not Gem. It was Logan, another stable worker, who like all the rest, just don't get me. Disappointment surged through every part of me as Logan came into my straight stall, and not Gem. It's not that I don't like people, it's just that not every person can understand me the way that I need to be understood. "Hey Onyx, time to get you your breakfast," Logan said, hoping for my cooperation. I pay more attention to my food then her, which is the opposite of my usual routine with Gem. My mind starts to wander. I wonder where Gem is? Is she volunteering for one of the lessons? She would never volunteer when I'm in the stable. Or did her truck breakdown? No, she just got it last month. Before I continue my guessing game, I feel my halter being pulled. I don't budge. "Onyx, work with me here, you love grooming time,"Logan said disappointingly. Correction. I love grooming time when Gem is grooming me. My refusal frustrates Logan to her breaking point. She ties my halter to the ring and walks away. This surprised me. In the fourteen years that she has been here, she never gave up. She worked with horses that were ready and willing to kill her, but she didn't give up. Yet, my refusal alone causes her to throw in the towel. I let it go and start licking my saltlick. Four licks in and I hear Logan saying my name, but not to me, to the stable manager, and it doesn't sound positive. I've had enough of this. I start to paw the ground, rebelliousness surging through my veins. I will not respond to any command nor gesture in any positive way. If a stable worker comes near this stall, I will break this rope and bolt. Scarpantonio

I hear footsteps of multiple people heading in my direction. I back up and wait, ready at any

moment to break this rope. The people are now a couple stalls away, I could almost see the tops of their heads. I start throwing my head from side to side in an effort to free myself from the rope. Logan and the stable manager now stand outside my stall observing my every action. "Come on Onyx, you're ok," the stable manager said in a calm voice. I sink my teeth into the rope trying to weaken it. I then throw my head around violently, until SNAP! I'm free! I turn around faster than a thoroughbred. I prepare to jump over the kick chain, despite the fact that it's low to the ground, to block any kicks. The manager and Logan are now frantic to stop my escape. The manager prepares to speak. "Gem!" she said it as if it was her last hope. I shut down. Gem steps out from the next stall and stands before me. All the thoughts running through my mind are now silent. She undos the kick chain. "Gem, he's not safe," Logan said. Gem pays no attention to her and latches the kick chain to the string. She comes into my stall with no concern for her safety. Gem knows very well that she is the last person I would hurt. A smile now embraces her face. She gently places her hand on my neck and starts gracefully stroking it. My mind is now calm, the only thoughts that go through my mind are about Gem. I could easily walk out of this stall with no effort at all. My halter has half of the severed rope dangling from it. I'm facing the opening of the stall with no kick chain in my way. Leaving is my last intention at this time. Logan and the stable manager now stand in awe, speechless at Gem's success. Gem stops stroking my neck and reaches for the extra rope outside the stall. She connects it to my halter and leads me out of the stall. We now wait outside my stall in the hallway. "Logan, did he get groomed?" Gem asked Logan, as if nothing ever happened. "Yes," Logan responded. "Ok, I'm going to groom him in the round pen", Gem added,"Oh and Logan can you cancel his classed today." Logan noded with approval. Gem then starts to lead me out of the large wooden barn door and we set off towards the round pen. Once we arrive she ties the new rope up to one of the metal post and begins to groom me. All of my thoughts from just minutes before are now gone. I am now with my best friend getting groomed away, from any other stable workers or horses. It's just me and Gem, that's the way it should be. I realize that my actions wore out my welcome here, and I will now be put

Scarpantonio Scarpantonio 23

up for adoption. But I'm with Gem now, and everything's alright. My prediction was right. I was put up for adoption the next day, and within minutes I was adopted by no other than, Gem.

Maria Scarpantonio, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School, Manville Somerset County Grade 7

Artwork: Esteban Arias, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 7th Grade

One Wish

"I can grant you one wish, but there is only one rule, which is you can't ask for more wishes. So what is your wish Mr. Harper?" Scott Harper carefully thought about this question. After all, it was not every day you got to ask a genie to grant your wish. To start off his day, Scott was just looking through the storage section of the museum where he was a taxidermist, and came across a strange looking lamp. It had jewels around it, and he knew it was not going with the Modern History exhibits they had up now. During his lunch break he took the lamp. While taking it back to his place, his superior confronted him. "Where are you going, Mr. Harper?" Mr. Robertson asked him. "I was just going back to my place to eat." Scott was sweating bullets. If Mr. Robertson found out, he would lose his job. "Carry on then," Mr. Robertson rushed away, surprisingly swift on his old feet. Scott then continued through the parking garage where he once again lost his car. He always found it difficult to remember where he parked his Nissan Altima. Once he found it though, he went back to his apartment. He turned on the oven, and as it was heating up, he took out the lamp. As he saw in the movies, he rubbed it three times. A magical feeling filled the small apartment and soon a man appeared. His shape was ghostly, yet cheerful and he was elated that he was free. The strange man told Scott that he could have any wish he wanted and that he could only have this one wish. Scott carefully thought about this. He knew that this one decision would totally change his life. "I wish that I could live forever," Scott uttered to the mystical being. "Is that your final wish?" the genie asked. Scott nodded his head, but felt great regret thinking that money would be a better wish. He could do nothing about it. The genie went through a series of movements and disappeared back into the lamp. Scott didn't feel any different and it was almost time to go back to work. He made the drive back, which was more grueling than listening to nails on a chalkboard. He went the short way, which was still a 30 minute drive, but eventually got back, only to find that the museum was closed. It never would close this early on a Saturday. Scott pondered what a reason for this odd event would be. He decided to get in his car and go back to his apartment. As he was driving, an alarm rang which was only used for weather or a nuclear disaster. Sharbaugh 25

Scott knew this was not a drill and raced back to his apartment. That was the place he felt most safe. Nobody was on the street. When he turned the radio on, the worst possible news came on. "North Korea has sent nuclear weapons to the United States, we have in turn sent our nukes to the Asian country. I suggest spending these last few hours with family and friends." Scott felt a pit in his stomach. He now knew how bad of a decision he had made with his wish would be. Radiation would kill every human being on the planet except him. He couldn't die. He drove home and found a room and locked himself in it. He had enough food and water for a few days. Five days had passed since the last time Scott had seen the outside world. He knew it would be horrible out there. Without seeing it, he heard the destruction of buildings and homes. The food that he had was now gone, so he had to get more. Scott went out. The once beautiful city that he lived was now in ruin.

Scott Harper, with one wish, was now completely alone.

John Sharbaugh, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School, Manville Somerset County Grade 7

The Curse Among Us

Several years ago, on the outskirts of a small village lived a tiny girl and her family. They had friendly neighbors, great friends, a nice house and they ate like kings every night. A pretty fine life if you ask me. Right? Wrong. No one really knew the secrets that were hidden within the brick walls, beneath the old creaky floorboards, not even the family's friends knew about the true evils hidden by the "innocent family and their cozy cottage".

"Why do I have to do this? Why do I have to harm innocent animals?" I asked, with sadness in my voice. My parents paused, I knew what they were going to say and I prepared for the answer.

“Because April, every world has its own evil, our family just happens to be that evil." My mother stated, I mouthed the words along with her.

"Mom, Dad, Do I have to come with you this time?'' I asked. I hated coming along to kill harmless creatures. I didn't know why my parents liked to do this, frankly I had never asked.

“Yes, you are our record-keeper, so you must come." My father looked at me with stern eyes.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be happy about it." When we got home, I was determined to get answers from my parents whether they liked it or not.

We went out into the dark wilderness to find some creatures. I had a major scowl on my face. I walked slowly behind my parents with my green clipboard and my black pen; I watched every move my parents made, every step they took. I studied their movements closely, to see if I could gain any information about why they like to kill innocent animals. Once we were home I questioned my parents.

"Why do you kill animals? Animals who have done nothing to you, animals who are nature's beauty?" I asked firmly.

“Well, it's a complicated story, which we don't have time for today." My father said, trying to avoid the conversation.

"No, don't think you're getting away so easily, it's only 7:30, we have time, I am not taking no for an answer. Whether you like it or not, you are telling me why you murder innocent animals." I said fiercely . My parents were very surprised at my sudden attitude.

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“Okay, fine we will tell you," They seemed upset. I however was ready for answers. ''Alright. Well, before you were born, your mother and I had a beautiful white Persian cat. This particular cat was fascinated with the red geraniums next door, he would sneak through a hole in the fence and facing the flowers, watching, not doing anything, and just watching them sway with the gentle summer breeze. Well the owner of these geraniums, was not very happy the fact that a cat was seen in her yard. She accused us of training the cat to sit in the yard, and that the cat was ruining the presentation of her yard. Apparently she was some witch, and she said 'If that cat can't leave my flowers be, I will put a curse on you.' So the cat didn't leave them alone and now we are cursed with hating animals." As my dad finishes the story, I want to find a way for the curse to be broken.

''How can you break the curse?'' I asked myself out loud, but my parents heard me.

”The only way to break the curse is to find the neighbor and ask her."

"Does she still live here?" I asked impatiently.

"Yes, I think so. Why?" Before I could answer, I ran out the front door and to the neighbor on the left's house because I have seen red geraniums in the yard. I knock loudly on the door and in my line of vision, I see a tiny old woman dressed in a purple night shirt. “Hi. My name is April; I live in the house to the right of you. I live there with my parents Sharon and Joey Van Baron." As she listened to me speak, I watched her expression change. She obviously knew who I was and what I was talking about, but she wasn't letting that show .

“Well, how can I help you?" She asked briskly.

“I came because my parents told me a story about a white Persian cat and your flowers. I wanted to know how I could break the curse you put on them." I was trying hard to sound nice, but I don't think it came out the right way. The woman looked utterly confused. "I never put a curse on them; I have only lived here for 6 months.”

“Oh my apologies. Thank you for your time." My cheeks turned red as I walked down the stairs and I realized I have made mistakes. Mistakes in trusting my parents. Today not only did I find out, my parents are psychopaths, but I found out that they are pathological liars. I walked in my house, without speaking to my parents. I went up into my room and grabbed my suitcase. I was escaping the evil liars that I called my parents. The secrets they kept, how could I trust them?

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Now I run. April now lives on her own, and has not kept in touch with her parents, since she left. She has been determined to expose her parents. She is trying to come up with a plan because everyone has their own evils inside of them.

Shelby Slater Alexander Batcho Intermedieate School Somerset County 8th Grade

Artwork: Molly LoMonte, 16 Bound Brook High School Somerset County Slater 10th Grade 29

Social Media

Try to imagine a world where you go over someone house and you try to interact with other people, but you cannot. You cannot because your friends have their TV on and their phones in their hands typing tapping and wasting their lives away. The worst part is that you do not have to imagine anymore, these are real life situations. This is what used to be called a "playdate" and what the so called has actually turned into. Social media has deprive us of human interaction. It has caused depression, time taken away from school, jobs, etc ... , and interaction with online predators. Hence, parents should limit the use of social media for many striking reasons. Parents should limit the Internet to their children because of predators. Online there are many predators even though parents and children do not see them. In an article written by Dr.Myeres it states, "False identities are easy to create because you can't see who is at the other end of the computer screen.” This quote does in fact prove that children and parents are uneducated on the knowledge of online predators. Also in that same article it states. “Not all information is private" this means that not everything you post on any kind of social media is all· private. Lastly, in that article written by Dr.Myeres its states, "most parents don't know about Internet predators until it's too late." By this, she means that parents could not tell if their child is talking to an online predator. Until the predator tries to meet the child in person or even worse, they can try to harm the child. Therefore, parent should limit the Internet to their children due to the online predators. Secondly, parents should limit social media to their children because of any types of any disorders. Disorders such as depression, apathy, substance use, and abuse. Children and parents do not know the dangers of using the internet. In an article it states "parents need to acknowledge that too much screen time can have a negative impact on their children physically emotionally and mentally" This means that parents need to know that too much screen time can lead too many things. Things that can put their children in therapy, in that same article it states, "Parents and students should focus on the rises." This means that there are many risks and that most parents and students are unaware of them. That is not good, because if they are unaware of them they will not know what is happening to the children. If they do not know what is wrong it can lead up to an actual medical emergency. Social media can cause many temporary or even permeant disorders. I know this because in the article written by Ethster Erwin it states 'behavior and emotional problems including empathy and depression, overweight, substance use and Vega

abuse, and school difficulties." This quote tells us what kind of problems too much screen time can cause. Therefore, parents should limit the Internet for their children because of any type of disorders. Lastly, parents should limit screen time to their children because it wastes too much time. Teens and children spend too much time on iPods, iPads, iPhones, and MacBook's. It takes up a lot of their time. Time that can be used for homework, playing outside, or spending time talking to their friends. Yet children and teenagers do not their on their device tapping away. In an article also written by Dr. Myeres it states, "Studies have shown that teens can send 50 to 100 per day!” Yes, I said per day. This is our generation and it is based upon all these gadgets. It also States, “That an average child is on a device up to eight hours a day and an average teenager is on a device up to eleven hours a day." This is not good this is a little less than half a day. Teens are going a little crazy with the internet. It is so crazy that they stay up past 'bedtime' on their phones texting whomever. Alternatively, they may even be on a social networking website. Children and teens should put down their phones, walk outside, and smell the roses. Although there are, many consequences when it comes to using the Internet there are many reasons why students need to use the Internet. For one, students of all ages use the internet for homework such as IXL and essays they need to type up. Secondly, children may use the Internet to talk to family and friends that are in a different country or over the seas in the army. However, students will not need their devices for every single night of homework. Some days their teachers might give textbook homework. It is somewhat good for children to have the internet, but it also very bad and it can lead to many different consequences. As a result, parents should limit social media for many striking reasons. Children and teenagers are on their phones to much. This can cause your child to have online predator. In addition, it can cause obesity, depression, and use of drugs. Lastly, it waste too much time and that could lead to a student falling school because their on their phones instead of doing homework. It can also be good at times. Just like if a student need it for homework or if a child is talking to a family in another country. Therefore, if you think your children or yourself spend too much time on social media. You should make a change. Limit the Internet, for the safety, education, and the future of your family. Priscila Vega Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County Vega 8th Grade 31

Lost At Play Palace

I have heard that my kind is supposed to get bought when we get stuffed. But for me I just sigh. I have seen many people go by, but they have never notice me. It makes me feel like I am just a ghost sometimes, but I am not because I know they look at me and can see me. So, why don't they pick me? Am I not good enough? But then one day it happened; someone picked me. I am a stuffed horse; I have waited for months for someone to choose me. Today is the day. I have seen a plethora of kids go by waiting for the right one, and today we found each other! When she walked up to the bin I knew I was going to get stuffed today. I was the very last stuffed horse. I said goodbye to my old friends, but in a hushed voice so my new owner would not hear me. We walked over to the stuffing machine. It tickled when the stuffing filled my hooves. Next came the heart; the girl and I had to do a little dance so I could feel the love she was giving me. My excitement was starting to build up. I was afraid that if I made a noise I would be caught and thrown away. Each step she took I was getting closer to the door. Then, she put me down on to this counter and a lady was using a laser to zap me. When she was done numbers and symbols popped up on a screen, and it showed $29.69. Now it was time to go home! We walked out of the store. I was put into this gigantic, wired container with four wheels so my owner wouldn't hit me against her leg. We were going so fast I thought I was going to be sick. Everything was a blur to me as we were speeding down the parking lot. I wondered where we were going It had been only two hours since I got to my new home. I had a name, Clyde! Finally, I got to meet some new pals. "Hey guys, a new stuffed animal is here!" yelled one of the animals. We were talking for only a few seconds when we heard footsteps coming up the stairs so we all became "stuffed". My owner came in and picked me up, and we were out the door and put into this magical moving machine with four wheels and four doors. My owner put me into this sparkly pink seat; I did not like the pink at all. It was a bumpy ride. It was very scary because the magical moving machine was going a million miles an hour. Finally, we arrived at a building which was filled with kids screaming. I didn't know what was going on until I heard the singing. Then I knew it was a party. We had many of those at the Build-A-Pet shop.

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Five hours flew by fast! It was finally time to go, and I was waiting at the shoe cubby protecting my owner's shoes. I was waiting for thirty minutes. I was starting to get worried that she just left me! While I was waiting for my owner all I smelled was her smelly shoes. Boy do they stink! I thought a skunk crawled in them and died. Suddenly, I heard a monotoned voice come over the loud speaker, "Party Palace will be closing in ten minutes, so please get your things a have a nice day." Ten minutes went by and still no owner. All of a sudden a light went out and another until it was pitch black. There was a short amount of time when I panicked. But I calmed myself down enough so I could make a plan on how I was getting out. But before I could put a furry hoof down to come up with a plan, the lights came back on I heard a very distinctive voice cry, "Mommy, I need Clyde back!" It was my owner! She spotted me, ran over and picked me up. Boy was I happy to see her! Even though it was only a half hour it felt like forever without her. I had waited so long for someone to choose me. But now that I was chosen I am so happy. After I got lost at Play Palace, my owner made sure that I never left her side and our connection has gotten stronger and stronger as time has gone by.

Katharine Yanicek, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 8th Grade

Yanicek 33

BOUnd Brook High SCHOOL

One Day, Hopefully

It only took a few days for me to fall for you It took you a couple of seconds to undo All the feelings I had, shattered to pieces All the signs I misread, the extent my mind reaches It never fails to amaze me How one person can make a difference So fast.

I drag myself down, kick myself in the neck, When I should of known I shouldn't have been so quick On the draw, but then, all hope isn't lost, i could still win yet i drawn out my emotions to the words of Joan Jett But hating myself isn't going to fix it, I need to stand strong, and And pick it all up, bit by bit

Communication shouldn't stop, I'll stay on your good side, as long as I can With hopes that maybe, One day, Hopefully You'll be mine.

For now, I call you friend, Let's see what the future has penned.

Raymond Fry, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

Living Nightmares

He sleeps peacefully in the small bed, covered in a few blankets. His head slowly shakes as he sleeps restlessly. His eyes open quickly as he holds his chest propelling up. A large breath is taken, his eyes darkened over to midnight black. His eyes roam through the room, paying close attentions to the dark corners. His mouth opens slightly.

"Calm down, Constantine you’re all right."

A small pair of hands reaches up over his sheet and grip. His head slowly looks to the foot of his bed in terror. The hands continue sliding up the bed as dark black hair is seen, a pungent odor of decay fills the air. Constantine suddenly backs up to the headboard of the bed. A decayed face is spotted, the eyes fully black, a slice from the right ear across through the mouth that stops at the chin. Her mouth opens showing decayed yellow teeth, her neck holds a rope. He suddenly has a feeling of immobilization, nothing will move, not eyes his lips. The girl slides up the bed, stands and begins to walk around the bed. Her dress covered in a dry crimson, her fingers trailing the edge of the bed. Her arms uneven, one hanging lower, covered in vertical cuts and a bone sticks out. She slowly throws Constantine into the bed and straddles him, her face close to his. She gives a devilish giggle.

"Why be scared? I'm just your nightmare!"

She takes a quick deep intake of air and screeches in his face; a screech mixed with a deep growl. He closes his eyes tight and opens them. The girl is gone, nowhere in sight. He takes a deep breath and gets up.

His feet touch the freezing cold hardwood floor. Constantine stands up and walks to the nearest rest room quickly, his eyes checking all dark corners. He gets to the restroom and opens the medicine cabinet, as fast as he can. A few orange pill bottles sit on the shelves. His hands find them and open them messily. Pills fall on the counter as he does the same with the others. His eyes filling with tears, the voices slowly get louder in his head. Constantine grabs his head and throws the pills into his mouth, then turns to the sink. The water turns black as he looks down. His body jumps back naturally and he shakes his head. He looks again and

Martinez 35

sees clear water, filling his hand. The pills slide down his throat with ease. He stares at his reflection and washes his face.

"What's happening to me?"

A hand slowly grips Constantine's shoulder and he jumps. An image of a deformed man is in the mirror, his eyes black and glossed. Constantine shakes his head and runs out of the restroom. He looks at a clock in his kitchen he looks at the digital time. He sighs seeing the time;"3:56". He grabs a phone from a charger and dials a number quickly. The phone starts ringing, he places it to his ear. A female voice answers the call.

"Hello?"

Constantine sighs in relief quickly.

"Victoria I need you here now, please."

"Constantine? What's wrong?"

"I saw some things, I need someone here. Just incase they comeback."

"Constantine I'm coming, go to your room and lay down."

"Alright, thank you Victoria. I love you."

"I love you too, just don't do anything else go to your room."

A beep rings through the silent house as Constantine presses the end button. He looks around and sprints to his room. The darkness consumes the stairs to his room, his fears take over. A creature of his imagination crawls on the stair banister. A mannequin being split open walking on all fours, it's stomach towards the ceiling. The face had been split open from ear to ear on a curve down through the mouth, sharp teeth emitted. It growls and jumps to the ground i front of the kitchen doorway. Constantine sprints up the stairs and slides into his room. The door slams and locks as he sits in his bed, looking around paranoid.

His eyes slowly closing, being red and irritated from no sleep. He sits for what seems like forever, a car pulls into the driveway. He jumps to his feet hearing the asphalt crunch from the tires. He hears the front door open and close, then a calming voice.

"Constantine, are you in your room?"

"Yes! Please just hurry!" Martinez

He sits on his bed hearing the quick footsteps up the stairs. He sees his door knob turn and backs up

more still afraid, the door opens to show Victoria. Victoria had on a white and black t-shirt with a sweater on,

she wore jeans, and sneakers. Constantine lowered his guard and his eyes watered quickly. A tear falls and

Victoria runs to Constantine. She embraces him quickly and tightly.

"You’re okay my love, you’re okay."

Constantine hugs her tight and begins to sob…

(To Be Continued in the next Teen Arts Anthology, May, 2016)

Jose Martinez, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

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Untitled

You were one like no other, everyone’s brother. You always had a smile on your face that a frown could never replace. Making us go into a laughing fit, every room you walked in you lit. I idolized you for letting your real personality shine through. So young, so talented, so unique. Many people’s lives are now bleak. We lost a beautiful soul, some of us may never be whole. Losing you still doesn't seem real. Words can't express how we all feel.

This is only goodbye for now; we'll someday meet again somehow.

Emily Meyers, 16 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

Stream of Consciousness

We say we are over then take it all back we cry because it hurts then dry our eyes I tell him I'm tired of being second in his life yet I still remain there because I don't want things to end this fast we've been talking for a while now and things were going great then his ex hugs him and kisses him he tells me what happens yet not knowing how it happened we talk on the phone for hours just saying things that come to our mind trying to figure out how things are going to go down at the end of us talking I realize it wasn't his fault we say I love you and there it ends days later I think things are going great playing or not he says we will get married I'm excited to know that he is thinking about our future even though we don't know later in the week he kisses his ex leaving me with no choice but to cry again he calls me and says I'm sorry and just my luck I got attached to him making me hate the fact that I will eventually forgive him up to now our relationship has being strong and weak he is going out with his ex because I let him even though he loves me and doesn't want to let me go sometimes I freak out and say we are ending this but it hurts both of us so is like my words are said for waste at the end of the day is distance that's keeping us apart and I hope that sooner or later he will realize that I'm the one that is his no matter what even though deep inside I know he was never mine…

Pamela Reyes, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

Dear Anonymous,

The single name behind multiple faces. The one who paints portraits of vivid dreams only using the same 26 letters. The Van Gogh of Verbs. The Picaso of Prepositions. Such artistic perfection hidden behind 4 syllables. Why hide your title when so much talent is present? Why wouldn't you want to showcase your god-given gift? The power wielded within your pen's ink or your pencil's lead is of great magnitude. It craves to a surface with your poetry. You deserve to be free with your writing, and with those words of wisdom, you deserve recognition. With the millions, if not billions of anonymous out there, your work can become another's. He who begins his journey as anonymous shall remain anonymous until the day he dies. The innocence of your own scriptures could vanish before your own eyes. With text as sacred as your own, let it remain so. With High Hopes, Davian Williams A.K.A. Just another drop in the ocean.

Davian Williams, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade

Artwork: Samantha Ayerdis, 18 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade

BranchBurg Central Middle SCHOOL

The Puppeteer

______I’d tell somebody why, but they wouldn’t really care. Just like everyone else. The puppeteer of society tugs the strings, yanking others away from people like me. Leaving us in isolation. And the single, last stroke the delicate hands of the puppeteer would perform on me, would be thrusting my small, broken-down self, Lennox Pines, out of my misery.

I stared down at the blurs of yellow cabs, vying for customers, pigeons fighting over the last crumb. It had just come to mind how competitive the world was. But that had nothing to do with me. I had nothing worth emulating this competition for.

I wasn’t even fighting for my own life.

I sucked in a breath, and closed my eyes trying to imagine death. This was a situation I had imagined many times before, but this time it felt so real.

My feet shifted, letting the tips of my Converse over the edge.

The puppeteer was ready for the final scene in the life of Lennox Pines.

The ratty old Converse were now inching their way off the edge, and then they tipped off.

There was this movie had I had seen ages ago, made in the eighties, about an autistic boy who wished he could fly. Right now, I was experiencing his wish. I could fly. I was flying.

Something all of the human race wishes for at least one time in their lives. And mine was about to end so abruptly. Just like that.

Meredith Boyle, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School, Somerset County Grade 8 42

Reflections

Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I’m unable to even recognize myself compared to the person I was only a year ago. There aren’t bruises that dot my pale skin. There aren’t cuts from bottles thrown at me out of anger. I’m not unhealthily skinny. My hair isn’t matted anymore. I’m hardly the same person I used to be. I just have the same name, Jack. There’s just one other thing about me that hasn’t changed: I always see pain in my eyes. It doesn’t matter if I’m living the best day of my life, there is always pain hidden in there. Even though all of that is in the past, it still lives with me everyday. It’ll always find it’s way through the smiles, music, or just anything. Everything reminds me of the pain he caused. He may have left a few physical scars here and there, just a few small ones. But there will forever be pain inside of me. What he did is unforgivable. I hope he got what he wanted.

Branchburg Central Middle School, Meredith Boyle, 13 Somerset County Grade 8

A Misunderstood Breed

Would you judge someone based on the color of their skin? Most people would answer no, so why would you discriminate a dog because of their breed. Labs are loyal retrievers, Great Danes are giant cuddle buddies, and Pit Bulls are strong muscular sweethearts. One breed that has a terrible reputation is the Pit Bull terrier. These dogs are neglected, used for fighting and seen as awful animals. Pit bulls are not what they are said to be. They are trustworthy, affectionate, and gentle dogs. People pass judgement on these amazing dogs just because some are said to be aggressive. This may be true but only because the dog was trained by an irresponsible owner. One should not base their opinion on a dog breed until they experience what the breed has to offer. Just like other breeds, Pit Bulls should not be abandoned because one dog was raised improperly.

Although there are laws in all 50 states prohibiting dog fighting, it still occurs on street corners and as

“playground games” in some areas. Any dog can be raised to fight but Pit Bulls are most commonly used because they are muscular and strong. Dogs that are used to fight are put into the worst conditions. People who conduct dog fights lack respect for animals. They are offered no food and often beaten by their owners to encourage the dog to have an aggressive attitude. Some Pit Bulls are thrown into the ring as bait for the other dogs, they are more times than not killed. Dog fighting is a disgusting act of animal cruelty that needs to be stopped. Sending pitbulls and other strong dog breeds into a cage promoting them to attack and kill each other is unjust and cruel.

In addition, irresponsible dog owners and breeders are the reason that the reputation of the Pit Bull breed is awful. Just because a dog is a Pit Bull does not mean that they are aggressive. Some breeders breed dogs to be aggressive. When a dog is raised and trained to be aggressive and attack, it is going to show these attributes. All any dog wants to do is please their owner. If an owner praises a dog when it is attacks and acts aggressive, the dog will continue this behavior because they know that it pleases their owner. The dogs are taught that this awful behavior is right and they become accustomed to acting like a beast. If a dog is raised and trained properly they will be loving and loyal companions. Pitbulls and Pit Bull mixes not raised in awful conditions are affectionate, loving, and gentle dogs. Pit bulls were once knowns as friendly dogs, but Ciurleo 44

due to irresponsible owners and breeders the reputation for the pit bull terrier has drastically changed.

To continue, Pit Bulls are the most common animals in shelters. 35% of shelters take in one pit

bull a day. Over time the amount of dogs coming in everyday causes shelters to struggle keeping all

animals happy, healthy, and safe. In addition to the surplus of Pit Bulls in animal shelters, they are a

breed that is hard to adopt out, due to their reputation. Pit Bulls are overlooked time and time again

because people do not give them a chance to show their true caring personality. Most Pit Bulls brought

to shelters were either found as strays or dropped off. A dog fighter or breeder will tend to leave a dog

on the streets when they are not performing as the person would like them to or when the dog is born

with a birth defect. Since most shelters do not have the money or supplies to take care of the dogs that

are in desperate need, 75% of shelters euthanize Pit Bulls when they first arrive. The dogs are also

euthanized because of the overwhelming population of Pit Bulls and the shelters can not hold any more

dogs. A dog should not be euthanized because irresponsible people refuse to treat animals properly.

In conclusion, dogs especially pit bulls have been neglected and stereotyped based on false

characteristics. Pit Bulls are used for dogfighting, fill most kennels in shelters and are improperly trained

by irresponsible people. They have a terrible reputation because people are cruel and create stereotypes

that are misleading and incorrect. Any dog can be raised to be an amazing companion but people need to

give them a chance. When an animal is bred and trained to be aggressive, violent outbursts will occur.

Every dog has imperfections just like humans so one misfortune should not affect your opinion on a

breed as a whole. It is not the animal that is dangerous, it is the person holding the leash.

Emily Ciurleo, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 8

Ciurleo 45

Identity

Light was fading, which would aid us in the first zone against the less experienced hunters. The cover of darkness was a Rokinian’s friend, even with our specially evolved abilities. Proudly finishing her speech,

Anja closed her eyes, pushed on her wrist, and vanished. Gone, but at the same instance here. God, I loved the first moment of invisibility. The rush of the tingling sensation, feeling as if you were flying, but better.

I did the same, as did Marco. The rush flowed through my body, as if it were the first time. It never got old, from when I was in the Training at 8 years in the village, to now at 16. The most beautiful part about it was the faint shimmer of silver, like being caressed by thousands of diamonds.

Extending my arms out and silently getting in the seated position, I meditated. My frantic pulse slowed. Slower. Slower. Slower, until at resting heart beat, which diminished the silver glow significantly.

Ever since that first time, I have tamed my abilities, preparing myself for the cruel truth about survival.

Standing up, I whispered, "Crouch so we can speak." Instantly, the three of us dropped into army crawl.

"Marco, you should go now. It'll take longer to take the route around to the truck. Anja, are you sure you want to do this with me?."

"Yes Gabe. Now let's go," she said curtly, her voice wavering only in the slightest.

And we were off, weaving in and out of the tall grass. Surprisingly, the strands cut into the soft flesh of my ankles, creating deep scratches I would have to put Treoki oil on later. At least the bottoms of my feet were fine, thanks to the callouses that acted like the leather moccasins we wore in winter. The only noise was the swooshing of the grass that harmonized with the cacophony of sound all around us. The wind sang a haunting forewarning, crickets chirped, a wise owl hooted, and the river kept a steady tempo as it flowed.

Anja whistled, signaling the enemy was ahead of us. I took a measurable look, sizing up the hunters as if they were competitors in a game. In a sense they were, a game of life and death. They were definitely inexperienced. No thermal equipment. Good, this will be easy.

The group comprised of a pair of middle aged men, and a striking teenage girl. Even in the dark, I

Cleary

could tell she had ivory hair reaching her waist and darker skin, like toffee. Not like the people who had

once come from the continent of Africa, but I read once about the country named America. Her skin was the

color of the natives that lived there long ago, when there was such a thing as America.

The only thing I could not distinguish was her eye color, and it bothered me. Usually I could use it to

my advantage, my intuition and observations acting as a sixth sense. Blue was often intelligent, brown

calming, but green was different. Always disconcerting and deceitful.

Peeling off to the right of Anja, I moved in to distract the entourage away from the army jeep. Mak-

ing a daring advance, I sprinted to the edge of the river, and got onto one of the handmade rafts. Avoiding

the water, I paddled in a silent rhythm. The river was only about 20 meters long, so it wasn't a challenge to

get to the other side. Soon enough, the raft hit the opposite sand bank. Pushing back a lace of duckweed and

algae, I climbed out of the raft relatively dry.

I knew by the sound of another paddle that Anja was right behind me, but she was being louder than

normal, unlike her cautious self. Taking a few steps, I closed the distance between me and the hunters. They

were dressed in the typical apparel, save for the high tech devices. Black body suits with pockets woven at

the waist, breast, and pants. Knives, neutralizing sprays, stun guns, zip ties, and other equipment were is

strapped in their bags.

"I heard of reports that said Rokinians were in this area," said the girl in a slightly accented, mono-

tone voice. Her words evoked no emotion. An indifference even! Either she did not care about the hunt, or

was hiding something.

"Well, we must be going. They're paying twice the amount for Rokinians in this area of

the forest, but even more overseas!" one of the men replied in greedily in a thick accent.

"Kia, get the nets from the back of the Jeep. Do you have the tranquilizers, Lakota?"

asked the other middle aged man that sported a black goatee with long, braided hair.

"Of course! Wouldn't want to have these creatures longer than we have to. Did you hear Cleary Cleary 47 the rumors?" the man, Lakota, inquired.

“Yes! And I can’t believe it. We’ve always been told that these, things that call themselves Rokinians, were practically engineered in a nuclear lab. That scientists tampered with the evolution process centuries ago, before the nuclear times. But now this! It’s insanity!” bellowed the man with the braided hair.

“True, true. Kia, are we ready to go?” said Lakota. By then, I had stopped listening and was trying to make sense of what they knew. I held myself back as I struggled with being in the dark. If it was not evolution and nuclear testing like I had learned all my life, then what could have made me what I was? A Rokinian was what I was, but now I felt I had been stripped of my identity. What if the hunters were right, that the scientists had an untold secret. And if they did, then what is it?

Emily Cleary, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 8

Her fingers fumbled with the bright green shoelaces as she gawked at the sun rising over the cliffs of

Mount Pocono. She stood up, extending her long legs, and pulled her turquoise hoodie over her head.

Walking briskly down her driveway, Reese grabbed the cold, rusting railing separating her and the lake.

Releasing the railing, Reese took in a deep breath. Smiling, she began to run. She reached up to the earbuds wrapping around her ears and began to play her music. It was early, and no one was outside for her to run into.

The beating of her feet grew to match her steady heartbeat, like the earth itself was urging her to continue. The pounding of her lime green running shoes sent vibrations up Reese's spine and she felt herself pushing harder and harder off the ground.

Reese felt like she was flying. She pulled her hoodie off, and held a sleeve in each hand. Curving her back, she let her head fall back. The sweatshirt flew out behind her like wings. This was the only time Reese really felt free. The only time she truly felt alive. The only time she was allowed to be herself.

"Reese!" A voice cried out from the sidewalk on the other side of the asphalt road. She pulled her arms in and wrapped the sweatshirt around herself. It grew cold, and the wind suddenly didn't feel like it was carrying her into the sky. It felt like it was weighing her down, pushing her into the sidewalk and keeping her from taking off. She kept running. She knew the voice, and it was one she'd never wanted to hear again.

She paused, only for a second, to grab the small purple backpack that was bursting at the seams. It had been stored in a crevice in the sidewalk for weeks now, packed with clothes and food. Everything a girl could need to leave home forever.

"Go away!" She screamed. Her voice sounded weak and squeaky. The small and breathy sound did- n't sound like her. Reese usually stood up to him, but today she felt guilty.

Dailey 49

The voice boomed again. His gruff, ringing voice echoed in the early morning air, "Get back here, Reese!"

Suddenly, the golden October trees didn't seem so soothing. They seemed like a cage, trapping her in as he walked closer. She was reluctantly slowing, stopping as if walking through wet cement. The pounding that she had felt in her feet was not welcome in her heart now, as she felt the blood pounding in her head like an evil grandfather clock. Reese's head whipped right and left. She looked at the huge lake behind her.

"Stupid! Stupid brat!" He slapped her. "You thought you could run away? This is your home!" He hit her again. She put her arms up to shield her face from the intense blows. He kept hitting her. She let out a quiet cry of pain and suddenly, she didn't feel sharp jabs of pain coming at her face. She cautiously pulled her hands down. He was standing there with an icy glare in his eye and a malicious smirk on his face. He reached for her arm and opened his mouth to speak.

Suddenly, Reese could move again. On instinct, she recoiled a little and pulled her arm out of his grasp. She started to run again, and she felt his hand brush her backpack. It somehow felt heavier than before. She took off sprinting, the wind whistling past her.

"Get back here!" He screeched in a raucous yell. She kept running. She was faster than him, with his stubbly beard and loose shirt hiding the dark soul beneath. The pack that she'd grabbed in a reckless attempt to run away slid up and down Reese's back as she sprinted away from him.

But she was tired. She felt burning in her legs and she took a small pause to shake them out. And in that moment, he was on her. He grabbed her shirt collar and restrained her from running away. She felt his breath on her face as he leaned in to yell.

"I'm your father and this is your home. Come home." He reached out to grab Reese's hand, and she made a quick, careless decision. She shrugged out of his grasp and took off. She felt burning in her lungs and legs, but she pushed on. He was tired too. She ran into the trees, weaving in and out. She heard him calling, but she ignored it. She heard his heavy footsteps behind him, and she pushed on further and faster than ever before. Dailey 50

She heard his footsteps fade and slow until they stopped.

Daddy, I'm sorry, she thought. Mom’s not coming back, and neither am I.

Katherine Dailey, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 7

Artwork: Charli Fillmore, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade Dailey 51

Through my Eyes

"We will love you forever, no matter what" they said, then why is it that I seem to have done something wrong.

I thought that the ring and the white dress meant love for ever. Now forever doesn't seem that long.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Going to sleep with crying and fighting is what I got used to hearing.

Those long weekends at amusement parks used to be fun but now family time is slowly disappearing.

I wouldn't be surprised if the police officers memorized our names or the sound of my crying at night when they would barge in.

Even at age 5 I could feel the distance between them. It felt like they were on opposite sides of the wall of Berlin.

Gianna Duddy, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 8

The time between Melinda Alice granting her wish, and her wish being granted, was agonizing.

Though, the erratic beating of his heart, and his slow and calmed breathing, seemed to ease her discomfort. Gregory’s arms were wound tightly around her body, and hers were loosely thrown around his torso.

Her parents had no right to speak of her that way. Even if she acts like a spoiled brat and treats everyone like they are lower than herself. They raised her, they are her parents, and parents should never speak of their child that way. I want better for her than I had for myself. I had parents that one day vanished into thin air, and left me in the dust. It seemed that I was no more than a burden to them. I do not want that for Melinda Alice, it was a deep baritone voice that she heard in her head instead of her own. Her eyes widened and she whipped her head to look at Gregory. It was his thoughts that she heard.

When she realized this, her heart ached for the boy holding her, who was no less heartbroken than herself.

Melinda Alice looked at him with saddened eyes and whispered, “You will no longer be left in the dust. You’ve got me now.” His hazel eyes widened in shock, and glazed over with tears. He did not expect her to hear his thoughts, much less give him that response. Gregory gave her sad smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You have no idea how much that means to me. You’re not as bad as everyone thinks,” he whispered back. Melinda Alice felt a pang in her chest, from that last statement. She felt awful because everyone thought of her as this mean and cruel person. She didn’t do that on purpose, she just was trying to earn some attention from her stuck-up parents. All they ever did was worry about her brother, Troy.

The Golden Boy.

When she was six years old, her brother went off to college and her parents were stuck with her.

Instead of showing her the affection they showed her brother, her parents pushed her into the shadows.

All they worried about was getting her to be as good as Troy, instead of letting Melinda Alice be her

own person. She sat up to get a better look at Gregory, and she noticed a stray tear run down his face.

Dugenio 53

She reached up and brushed the tear softly. At her touch, his eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a shuttered sigh.

“Tell me what happened,” Melinda Alice coaxed. After hearing her words, Gregory’s body stiffened.

He hated this. He hated being vulnerable, but he needed to let this out.

“When I was four years old, my parents up and left. I had no idea why. The four years before, my mom used to cradle me in her arms and sing me to sleep. She would lay with me until I fell asleep when I had a nightmare. My dad, he would play ball with me outside, and take me out on the lake that was near our house.

Then all of that was gone. I was handed to my aunt by my mother, and she said to take good care of me. They walked out of the front door with two bags in each of their hands, and that was the last I saw of them. From that point forward, my Aunt Gail took care of me like I was her own son. But I got into a lot of trouble. I hung out with the wrong people at the wrong place at the wrong time. We got busted by the cops, and Aunt Gail sent me to a boarding school out here. I don’t remember the first night. I just woke up in the forest, and everything was bigger than me. I later learned that I had been turned into a snail. A prophecy was told to me.

Three wishes are all she gets. A girl with long brown hair, and deep green eyes. She will fall and she will rise.

The path she chooses is the path that will free you. Guide her to her greater glory and you will be rewarded.

When I saw you walking to school this morning, I knew it was you. I knew you were the one I had to help. But you didn’t look like you needed help. You looked perfectly okay,” Gregory gushed. It felt as if the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders.

Melinda Alice knew what she had to do. She had to free him. She knew that her well-being was not important at this point. What mattered to her was Gregory being freed from the curse that he was given. The pain in his eyes when he talked about his Aunt Gail, made her heart swell. He loved her so much, and it sounded like she loved him too.

“I have my last wish.” Gregory looked at her with a pained expression, but listened nonetheless. “I wish for all of my wishes to be undone, and for you to be free of this curse,” Melinda Alice spoke with confidence. She knew she chose the right path in her life. Now, Gregory got to return to his previous life that he seemed to longingly ache for.

Dugenio 54

Now Melinda Alice knew what she had to do when she got back to school. Apologize to

everyone she hurt with her words and actions. she also knew that she had to march downstairs,

and show her parents who the real Melinda Alice was.

“Thank you, Melinda Alice. I will be forever grateful to you, and when you need me, I’ll

be there. You can do amazing things if you put your mind to it. But for now, I need to pay a visit

to my Aunt Gail,” Gregory vowed. He knew that whatever reason it was, he would be there for

Melinda Alice if she needed.

Sometimes, all anyone needs is a little magic.

Jaden Dugenio, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Dugenio 55

You Could Be My Music

You could be my music,

I’d take you everywhere I go.

You could be the melody,

I would hum the tone.

Teach me good life lessons

That I wouldn’t learn with ease,

But because you know my heart so well,

You can set the key.

You cause different emotions:

Minor, Major, flat,

But surely we’ll make up again, and life will bring me back.

Alonna Gliksman, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Judge to jury speech:

My fellow jurors, on a winter day, Mr. Hossack was axed and killed in a horrible way. No person should have to go through this and the murderer should not get away with it. Now, months later, we might see justice. Some think Mrs. Hossack, the spouse of Mr. Hossack is the murderer. But, in order for this case to be a fair one, we must only look at the evidence provided. Only facts will prosper in any case. If any of the evidence can relate to reasonable doubt, you must not consider it as a fact. “Facts are stubborn things” said John Adams and it plays true today and will always in the American Judicial

System. Facts do not go away, they keep being discovered until the end of time. Friendships do not matter, nor do connections in a case, only facts. In order to protect Mrs. Hossack from being misjudged by the American people who can be mislead, I must say these rules.

What rules may you ask? Rules that are fair, rules that are just, and rules that are reasonable to both sides. My jury, if you believe that Mrs. Hossack had a plausible motive in the crime to kill an innocent and undefining proof that she committed it, you must return a verdict of murder. Be fair in your response, be just in your actions, and be objective to both sides.

Both sides have formed their opinions, their reasons, and their best guess of what happened that night. Now, you must decide what it is. Guilty of murder, or is the murderer still out there. Possibly even in this courtroom. That is what is so great about our judicial system. It gives the people the chance to say what is right or what is wrong.

I warn you that peoples lives are at stake. Be careful of what decisions you make.Those decisions affect people more than anyone can imagine.

Gooding 57

We have formed this judicial system so that everyone can be brought to justice. Let us see how it will work in this case. To Mrs. Hossack, this is a jury of your peers. For your sake, I hope they see the best in you so that everyone else can see it.

Court dismissed, awaiting verdict.

Dylan Gooding, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Artwork: Natalia Jimenez, 13 Alexander Batch Intermediate School Somerset County 7th Grade 58

It was nearly midnight.

Sheets of rain pounded on the hood of my car so hard that I’m surprised there were no dents left behind. My brother’s fatal research laid strewn across the coffee stained floor of his old Jeep. Everything was caving in on me as I sped onwards through the rain. Memories flashed through my mind. Times long past, when he was alive, laughing and joking. The hot tears that were held back for so long finally were released. They streamed down my cheeks burning my skin, but I didn’t stop. These tears encompassed all that I had lost, all of my suffering and it wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. The forestry lining the road was caving in on me. The trees were crashing down on top of me and they didn’t stop. Why wouldn’t they stop?

The darkness wrapped its shadowy tentacles around my car and I wasn’t moving forward at all. The world around me was moving backwards. I made a sharp turn, the world came to a halt in one area and began to move faster in another. Random objects flew from out of nowhere, crashing into the window to my right, just to fall off again, helpless in comparison to the forces controlling them.

Why? That was my question. The question that haunted me every day and every night. Why my mom? Why my brother? They had lives to live, people to love. Why?

I eased a shaky foot onto the brake. I slowed down. I stopped. Mother Nature gathered up all of her pieces and stacked them on top of each other, neat and orderly and good. I could breathe again. It was forced breathing, breaths that stung, that hurt, but I was finally breathing.

I could breathe because I understood the awful, ugly truth. I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream so loud that no one would be able to ignore it or just come up and squash me like an annoying, insignificant fly because guess what universe? I’m not done yet!

I’ve decided it now. If I go out, I go out big. I glanced at the glove compartment. I won’t let the one who destroyed my family get away. Not again. Never again. I thought about that glove compartment. I have it registered. I know how to use it. Heck, I’m an amazing shot. But will I do this? This? Even if it is for my mother, the woman who made everything okay with the smile in her eyes. For Donny, the brother who gave

Hegadorn 59

his life for the one that was unable to defend itself. But should I go that far? It’s already loaded, it’s easy.

Very easy; but not now. I can decide later.

The world came back into focus. I shifted my gaze to the mess of papers carpeting the floor.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, and scrambled frantically around the car, gathering sheet after sheet of letters, quotes and facts, all collected by Donny. Each and every page I collected was another piece of the puzzle, another way to make sure that this murderer will be locked away in jail for the rest of his disgusting life. This was my hope. This research was the key to everything.

I flipped through each page, simultaneously planning, calculating, checking and double-checking that every single page was there. Every page was a part of my brothers legacy, even if it wasn’t a pertinent part of the evidence, or proof of this immortal sin.

Then I saw her. The bird. Her beak glowed bright yellow against the sea. Her feathers were ruffled at the back of her head, as if she’d just woken up, and for the first time in ages, I felt something warm inside me.

He died for you, I told her picture, I’m gonna go make sure he didn’t die in vain. I flipped the page. Two words stood out, printed in crisp, black ink; Greene Cosmetics.

` That is what everything adds up to. Richard Greene’s eco-friendly cosmetic company, with a base here in North Carolina. These are the people who killed my brother because of his research. The people who tried to force my “accidental” death for inheriting his research. I need to confront them before they target me again, before they ruin someone else’s family, and before they wipe the rest of those beautiful creatures off the face of the Earth. One day, I want to see those little ruffled feathers in person.

Richard Greene’s office is a three hour drive away.

Can I even make it another three hours?

If Greene is smart enough to keep his “Green” business open or this long, he’s up tonight, in his office, deleting files, putting the nice big bow on this neat little package of innocence he’s put together. He’s getting rid of anything at all that ties him to Donny, creating an alibi. He’s ensuring his safety, and the murder

Hegadorn 60

of the rest of these tiny inhabitants of Earth.

But what he doesn’t know is that I still have the research, the leverage.

I wonder how far his pure greed will take him. How much will you fight Mr. Greene? Will he

fight to kill me? Will he just let me live in agony, seeing him slither his way out of this trap?

What will it be Mr. Greene? However he fights, I will fight harder. I will fight with the brilliant

wit of my mother, the strength of my brother, and my own fearless determination. I have nothing

to lose Mr. Greene, so nothing you can do will beat me down more than you already have.

Remember, every time you have, I’ve found the power to stand up again.

Before I set off, I emailed a copy of the research to detective Johnson, with a concise, four

word warning; I’m going after him.

See that Mr. Greene? Either way, you are done for.

With that, I drove onwards, to whatever the end may bring.

Amanda Hegadorn, age 12 Branchburg Central Middle School Branchburg Township

Hegadorn 61

Excerpt: My thoughts on prejudice

Haile Selassie once wrote “We must become bigger than what we have been: more courageous, greater in spirit, larger in outlook. We must become members of a new race, overcoming petty prejudice, owing our ultimate allegiance not to nations but to our fellow men within the human community.” I believe that this is a goal people all over the world should strive for, instead of fighting each other because of our differences, we should just accept them.

December 6, 2014

Love, that’s all people want, to be loved, to feel love. Now I'm not some ditzy teenager who thinks everyone is just going to hold hands and sing Kumbayah. However, I think if people decided to love rather than hate, maybe the world won't be such a bad place.

January 27, 2015

Equality, from the Latin word aequalis means, the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities. I think people forget what this word truly means. They can say it and write it, but do they ever really mean it? I mean Thomas Jefferson wrote that all men are created equal. Now, I know that this was back in 1776, however he wrote this in the Declaration of

Independence, the document that lead us to be a free country. Now, I wonder what Mr. Jefferson would think of how equal men are. I wonder what he would think of the Eric Garner case, or

Matthew Shepard who was murdered because of his sexuality in 1998. I wonder.

Tamara Jones,13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

It has been three days since the disappearance. Three days since she disappeared and my life turned upside down. Three days of police and detectives and lawyers and social workers trying to figure out what to do with me. Today was the day when they decided where I would go for however long it would take them to figure this out. To find her. To find my mother.

Sitting on his bed in his two bedroom Manhattan apartment, Ben realized that he might not be home for a long time. A week, a month, maybe ever. He would be staying with his aunt and uncle, whom he met only once when he was five and barely remembered. According to a kind woman he had met just the day before, there was a boy his age, and a girl who was seven, five years younger than Ben. They lived on a small farm less than two hours outside the city. Being his closest relatives, both in distance from the city and relation, they were the first to be contacted after the incident.

Regina, the woman from the day before, rapped suddenly on the bedroom door. “Five minutes,” she called.

“Okay,” Ben muttered. He pulled his red and black backpack from under his bed, and laid it on his bed next to the gray suitcase he had packed the night before. The bag was full of his favorite books, two fresh black and white composition notebooks he bought earlier in the week, a twelve piece set of pens he had received for his birthday in June, and some other items he had tossed in at the last second. Ben was scheduled to leave with Regina on the 10:15 train from Penn Station. It was an hour long ride to his aunt's stop, then a fifteen drive to their farm.

Ben reluctantly followed Regina down five sets of stairs, dragging his suitcase along behind him.

Thud. Thud. Outside on the street, everything looked dreary. The sky was overcast and the cement buildings seemed to reflect the gray. Regina hailed a taxi, and soon a yellow Crown Vic was idling by the curb. Ben slid across the smooth, ice cold backseat of the cab, his suitcase next to him and his backpack balanced between his black and white Nikes on the floor. Brakes screeched and horns blared as the cab driver maneuvered the car through the crowded streets.

Legacki 63

Finally the cab slowed to a stop in front of Penn Station. Ben glanced at his watch. 10:20. He hurriedly swung the door open and pulled his bags out behind him. Regina quickly paid the cab driver and rushed past

Ben to the doors. She shoved a ticket into his hand and managed to find an entrance with no line. They sped down the stairs and into the ninth platform stairwell. Beneath them, Ben could hear the soft rumble of an on- coming train. He pulled his suitcase over the edge of another stair. Thud. Thud. Regina’s high heels clicked in his wake. Click, click. Thud, thud. The smooth cement of the platform was comforting when the pair reached the bottom of the stairs. At the same moment, twin headlights penetrated the darkness at the end of the tunnel.

The soft rumble grew louder until it was a roar that filled Ben’s ears and pounded his eardrums. Then suddenly, it stopped. The train’s doors slid open, and four conductors stepped out, all wearing identical uniforms. Relieved, Ben followed Regina onto the train. He walked to the window seat, stashed his suitcase above his head, and collapsed on the cushioned blue seat. He pulled his iPod from his pocket, and pushed in his earbuds, blocking out the world. Leaning back, Ben nearly forgot everything - the disappearance, the farm, even the fact that he was surrounded by strangers, and wouldn’t know anyone he would be living with.

He must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing Ben knew, Regina was unloading his belongings from the rack above his head and an announcement was being made over the intercom the called for anyone getting off at the Greensboro Township station. Dazed, Ben dragged himself out of the seat and slung his backpack onto his back. The pair climbed off the train and Regina led the way to a beat-up old minivan that seemed to mock Ben, even more than the rundown station had, or the barn and silo he had seen from the window of the train. A woman who looked vaguely familiar and Ben could only assume was his aunt climbed from the passenger seat, a mountain of blonde hair piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun. The driver’s door opened and out emerged a tall man wearing a plaid button-up shirt, faded jeans, and brown work boots. The woman enveloped Ben in a hug. “You do remember me, don’t you Honey? Your Aunt Beatrice?”

Ben smiled and nodded meekly. He only had one memory of Aunt Beatrice, at a family party when he was four. It had been the last party before his dad left, and he preferred to not think about it.

Legacki

“How’s it going, buddy?” Uncle Edward asked. Without waiting for a response, he took Ben’s

suitcase from Regina and loaded it into the backseat of the car. He invited Ben to take a seat, and there Ben

waited while the adults talked exchanged very official-looking forms.

Twenty minutes later, Ben was staring out the window of the minivan and into some strange cross

between paradise and an alien planet. Leafy green trees towered on either side of the road, half hiding

mismatched houses. There were developments with huge, modern houses, all variations of beige and gray,

then small, one floor houses with colorful paint and gardens out front.

The van slowed as they neared a farm. Two fenced-in fields surrounded the large white house, which

had a curved, gray-shingled roof, and a little cupola on top. Everything about it, from the gravel driveway to

the stream that cut through the property, was about as far away from the busy city lifestyle Ben was used to,

but it was his new home.

Erin Legacki, 12 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 7th Grade

Legacki 65

Blazing Fury

The fire blazes with fury as it is fueled with branches, it crackles and roars as if beasts were trapped in the flames awaiting to be released, The smoke billows into the night sky polluting the crisp and bitter air. The roar dies down as the flame sputters out it’s last flame, the darkness consuming it.

Taylor Luger, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Artwork: Amy D. Nunez, 16 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

A Troubled Way of Thinking

....The doctor had handed us guidelines about my concussion, which were actually helpful despite the fact that I had already sustained two other ones. To my great delight, the doctor was allowing me to perform light forms of exercise, and he told me I could dribble the ball up and down the field. Though I was not able to go full out, it was better than nothing, and

So naturally, the first opportunity I got, I jogged outside with my size- five purple adidas ball. As I trotted down the freshly cut blanket of green, brown, and white I consider a second

What is wrong with me? a voice inside scolded. Finally, you’re getting back into soccer, that’s what you wanted, and now something feels wrong? Seriously?

As I crouched on the soccer ball which lay by my feet, I was overcome by the epiphany that nothing had changed. I was not taking the necessary precautions to make sure that such an occurrence never happened again. For all this time, I believed in the travesty that soccer would be a part of my life forever, when it was so easily robbed from me time after time. Why is it that people choose to ignore the truth when they are perfectly capable of understanding? I thought.

I am not invincible.

I realized at that moment that for all the time since my concussion, I had been so wrapped up in being allowed to play, I never truly listened to what others were saying. My health was supposed to carry me through my entire life, It was vital, necessary, needed. Why was I so willing to overlook that? No doubt I wanted to keep playing soccer, but I knew change would have presented itself.

Shaking my head, I picked up the ball with my hands, and sweating already in the hot- summer sun, I ran all the way home. Since it was Sunday, my parents were both home, relaxing by the veranda in my backyard as they enjoyed cups of warm coffee. My sisters who were diving into the pool (something I could not do with my concussion), splashed on, oblivious to the important conversation about to take place.

Marshak 67

“Hey Mom, Dad, can we talk?” I asked as I sat in the unoccupied lounge chair.

“Yes, actually, because we do need to have a conversation about this,” my dad declared.

“Ok, well, I know you both are worried about me playing soccer after I recover even though the doctor said I could. I was just wondering what I can do to stay safe. There is no way I’m not going to play soccer, but

I don’t want to keep getting hurt.” As we talked and came up with ideas so I could prevent myself from getting seriously injured again, I knew in that moment that my parents did truly have the best intentions for me even when it seemed like they did not.

***********

Every day that week, I practiced soccer lightly. My sanity was restored, and eventually, I was cleared from my third concussion.

“You may be cleared Sami, but you’re only cleared by me if you can promise that you’ll do everything you can so this doesn’t happen again,” demanded my mom, standing next to me with her arms crossed.

However, there was a twinkle in her eye, and I thanked God that there was someone in my life who cared about me that much.

“I promise, Mom. Love you,” I announced as I wrapped my arms around her.

My eighth grade school year was rapidly approaching, and even though I would only be allowed to play on my travel team as opposed to the school team and my travel team, I had deduced it was a miracle I could play at all.

Currently, it is November of 2014 where I had obtained my concussion in August. After having a successful soccer season filled with improvement and fun, I had not gotten injured once. Sometimes, it just takes everything to go wrong for things to turn around for the better. Though that period in my short life thus far was a very stressful one indeed, I had people around me who loved me and good fortune on my side. Now,

I have a new appreciation for being an abled person, and I truly believe that my concussion was meant to teach me to be grateful for all the beautiful aspects of life that can be so easily overlooked.

Sami Marshak, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th grade 68

The butterflies in my stomach might as well have been playing a full blown rock concert. Every gymnast knows the feeling. Getting ready for beam and dreading the sick feeling that you get while waiting to present to the judge. Especially when it’s the state competition, which is the most important meet of the year. One of the worst tortures in gymnastics is that wait while the judge scores the person before you. I stand as still as a statue and hope that they don’t see me trembling on the inside. She looks at her list of victims and I hear her voice, old with age, say my name.

“Gabriella.” She raises her hand, signaling me that I can begin. But I don’t want to. I shakily present to her, a million thoughts rushing through my head like Niagara Falls. As I mount the beam, my legs feel like the lead in my pencil. Like they will snap at any moment. Meanwhile, the butterfly rock concert is still going on, making this whole process harder. As I near the end of my routine, I get slightly more confident, but I’m still terrified out of my mind. I go to do my dismount and all of the sudden, everything is in slow motion. I feel my feet start lose their grasp and in my panic I manage to fall off. I hadn’t fallen all season and that realization makes my heart start to pound. Ladies and gentlemen, the world’s perfect example of Murphy’s Law. The second dismount was actually landed, so I finished the routine with a forced smile.

One thing that has always been apparent to me is that a gymnast, no matter how hard she tries, will never be able to hide their emotions after any event. Of course, being a gymnast, I fall into that category.

This means that the “I want to cry” face was visible to all of my teammates. I saw my coach look at me with pity as he said,

“Its okay. It was one bad routine.” Even though he knows that it won’t help at all. Even though he knows that it was not just one bad routine. I had just picked the worst time of my, so far, tiny gymnastics life to mess up. It feels just great.

Regardless, the rest of the meet finished in a bit of a blur. I got an 8.45 on vault, not my best either,

and an 8.2 on floor. I asked my team mates to keep my bars score a secret if it was lower than an eight.

Nawrath 69

Let’s just say they haven’t told me yet. When the butterflies simmered down and I could finally regain some focus, I concentrated on the awards. I couldn’t remember the score I was given on beam. I think I was trying not to pay attention so what happened next came as a shock.

“And in third place on beam, with a score of 8.9, Gabriella from Healthquest

Gymnastics.”

My mouth dropped open. I sat there for a moment, contemplating what to do. They must have meant someone else because a fall would have meant losing half of a point and there is no way my score would have been a 9.4 without the fall. But it was weird because all of my teammates started cheering for the other girl named Gabriella. They must have been because it was not me. We established that. But even so, they were patting me on the back, telling me to go up and I was shell shocked. I slowly stood up and ran to the fourth place spot, still doubting the whole thing. She handed me the medal, even though it wasn’t for me because there was another Gabriella from a different gym. We all presented and I walked back to our gym’s spot on the floor with an astonished expression. I looked over to Amanda hoping she would tell me who I should give it to,

“Coach Amanda, why did they give me fourth place? I fell on beam today.”

“You did your dismount again.” She explained. “They don’t take off a full five tenths if you do it again and can land it. You landed it.”

I resisted a smirk. If only I had remembered that, I wouldn’t have looked like such a fool walking up there.

Now that the meet season was over, we all had less stress on us. Those next few weeks after States were tough in the gym. We were working on the next level and learning the new routines. I came out of practice sweating and sore but it was okay with me because soon it won’t be as bad. Hard days are the best because that’s when champions are made. Gabby Douglas said that and to be honest, I couldn’t agree more.

Gabriella Nawrath, 12 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 7 70

Three Wishes

The slimy snail’s goo leaked onto the sidewalk; glittering like a diamond in the early morning sun.

The star rose in the vast expanse of sky like a freshly cracked egg yolk; growing brighter with each passing second.

Melinda Alice gingerly inched her matte black ballet flats away from the pebbly petunia shell of the snail. The disgusted grimace on her pale face distorted her fair features into those of a villain.

Within seconds, the lowly snail transformed into a tall, willowy woman. Golden hair flowed past her shoulders like rich milk into morning coffee. Her skin was white as fresh fallen snow on Christmas morning.

However, the most prominent traits were her glinting green eyes, that appeared to have a secret of their own.

They shone like emeralds buried deep among the rubble and rubbish of an old abandoned mine. The laughing eyes peered mischievously back at Melinda Alices’, which were a mirror replica.

Melinda Alice sharply sucked in a gulp of air. What was standing before her was not a crafty mollusk; but herself.

“What’s going on?” Melinda Alice whispered through her perfectly white, gritted teeth. They gleamed like a solitary ray of light on an otherwise bleak and dismal day.

Of course, she turned first to her greatest friend to help her find the answer; logic. Evidently it was soon obvious that that would result in nothing but a headache. There was clearly no logical explanation for this occurrence; which was quite formidable for Melinda Alice to swallow. She sought to logic to help her leap every obstacle she had ever had to hurdle; through which she had always triumphed. Yet, in this instance Melinda Alice was completely and utterly lost. As the time machine did not yet exist; although she planned on changing that, she had no clue what had caused this to take place. She knew that herself but ten years older apparating out of thin air could not be simply explained away with a mouthful of impressive vocabulary and numbers. Although how she wished for that to be the case!

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

Melinda Alice instantly wished she could grab the words out of the air and shove them back into her

O’Neill 71 mouth. She was having a conversation with herself; and she always had a snide remark ready and loaded to shoot someone down hard to the ground. Her face was visually flawed with agony as she waited for the linguistic pain that was sure to come. Instead, a voice both softer and less glaring than her own cascaded from the older woman’s mouth. It was so copious and cloying; it could be mistaken for a melody.

“It’s pretty shocking, huh?” The Older Melinda asked her minor match.

Then, an event took place that changed history. For the first time since she could speak; Melinda Alice was rendered speechless. Previously, she would have had a malicious comment ready for response, but the preceding developments had left her without any meaningful thought or insight.

Nevertheless, Melinda Alice attained her poise once again, and regained her perpetual tone of prestige.

“What exactly are you doing here?” she questioned, her bewilderment masked by a tangible air of supremacy. She was treating her own self like a mere serf in the presence of a bejeweled ruler.

“I am here because in the future, ten years from now, Earth is taken over by a vile man named Maverick. He started off as the President of the United States, but by using all of our and our allies’ resources; he has taken over the world.”

“That’s great, but how does it affect me?” Melinda Alice was back in business. The sneers, jeers, and sarcasm now rolled freely from her tongue like dollars from a millionaire’s wallet. She nonchalantly examined her French-manicured nails; displaying just how little she cared.

“That’s just it; you’re the only person who can save us. You have the power to change- and save- the future. Nobody else is as fierce, and, well, as callous as you. You’re the only one who has the hostile disposition necessary to decimate Maverick. Without you; Earth will become a realm of slavery, poverty, and death.”

Melinda Alice did not have to contemplate her alternatives for long. If she chose not to annihilate the dictator, how could she be world-renowned inventor in such a repressed world? How could she innovate science and the way people lived forever? She would be doing all future generations a favor.

“Okay.” she simply said with a shrug of her narrow shoulders.

O’Neill 72

Her counterpart did not seem to be expecting a contrasting reply. She briskly began to saunter away from her past self, much to the younger girl’s puzzlement.

Sage O’Neill, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 8

Artwork: Melanie Remache, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 11th Grade

Whatever it Takes

“Christina I need you to tell me everything that happened when you walked into your apartment,” the lady Paullina asked me at the counter.

“ I am a student at New York University so I had just gotten home from my morning classes and he was lying on the floor so I walked over to him. His stomach was not moving. He wasn’t breathing. I lifted him up and put him in the car and he started to breathe again like ten minutes before we got here,” I responded almost in tears. I couldn’t happen to ask, “Why did this happen to Tucker? Is it something I did?”

“Christina, you did nothing wrong. Tucker is up at C.T. now, would you like to join me?” Paullina asked with her hand out to mine. I nodded my head and walked with her to the room. It was up three flights of stairs and to the right of the supply closet. I saw him lying there on the pillow with his beautiful black and white fur ready to enter the machine. I could tell that he was scared because his crystal blue eyes were closed tightly. The pillow started to move into the machine to take the x-ray of his brain and his abdomen. I went back to the night room that I will stay in after my dog has had surgery. Paullina came into the room and said to me “The results have come in Christina. Your dog, he has a heart murmur. I am not allowed to state anymore information without the doctor speaking to you first. I am very sorry.”

“May I have a different room? I’m sorry but in this room only I can sleep here and I would really wish to have Tucker next to me after his surgery,” I asked politely.

“Of course you can. I will show you to a new room. Follow me please,” she responded as kindly followed her out the door.

With my purse in one hand and Tuckers leash in another I questioned Paullina, “Do you think my dog will be okay?”

“Definately. In my opinion and everyone elses, we have the best dog cardiothoracic surgeon anyone could find. Tucker will be great” her response had given me relief. She had shown me to the big room with a glass wall, wooden door and a curtain. “This is where you will be staying. Over to the right is the bed for

Tucker. Your bed is the one to the left. You also have a closet and bathroom for personal items.” 74

“Thank you Paullina. When will Tucker be back to this room?”

“The scan room is not to far from here so it should be ten to fifteen minutes. The doctor will be with you shortly to answer any questions you may have about Tucker.” I thanked her again as she walked out the door. I put my luggage on top of my bed and started to empty anything without clothes and transfer the item to the bathroom. A tall man had entered the room. I couldn’t see his face because he was putting his clipboard on the table by the door. He turned around to say something when he looked up at me.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi.”

Alexis Taylor, 13 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County Grade 8

I wake up to find you have come for a visit; I can’t help but make a fuss!

But no matter how much a whine and complain, I know it won’t make you leave any faster. I tried picking on you, make you want to go away and never return, show you who’s in charge. I try to push you to your breaking point, but its no use- it never is.

When its time to go to school, I beg my mom to come up with something, some way to get you to leave me alone. She only chuckles when I try to convince her how humiliated I would be should you accompany me to my classes

“Don’t worry sweetie, this too shall pass.”

How stupid.

At school I feel like everyone is staring at me, like I’m not the girl they thought I was or something because your visit is unexpected.

But they don’t say anything; they don’t want to be rude to my little “guest”.

I wake up the next day with my pesky little sister hovering over me.

“It’s gone,” she informs me.

I sigh a breath of relief… but only to know in the back of my mind to know you’ll be returning soon anyway.

The name of this poem is Zit.

Jade Zaleski, 14 Branchburg Central Middle School Somerset County 8th grade 76

Hillsborough high school

Spring Has Sprung

In spring, the flowers bloom in all delight and cultivate the awesome land they share. The dawn of day captures winter's dark night and out they come, the bear, the fox, the hare.

It radiates to all throughout the land. It spreads it's warmth to Earth's majestic life. It turns the grey, boring to green and grand. Eradicates winter with angry strife.

Yet still, somehow it makes a peace and calm, the weather slows and stops, a quiet peace. The flowers sprout from snow, a boom like bombs, erupting from the cold grounds crack and crease.

The spring has sprung in all it's majesty, it's colors dot the hills elaborately.

Michael Atlas, 14 Hillsborough High School Somerset County Grade 9

The Sun and the Blind Eye

When I stand at the top of the hill overlooking the town in the valley below, I can feel the chilly wind bite at my skin. The blood rushes forth to counteract the cold on my checks, inadvertently making them glow with rosy vitality. I can stand high over the landscape and feel it sing as it wakes with the break of dawn. Now it is a song of winter. It is a kind of singing that you don't really hear-- you feel it inside of you, manifesting itself in the life threads of your very soul. It takes you gently and lets you touch what it touches, so that you can see it all without truly seeing it. In the spring it will be a different song. Winter will have kept it, yet it will have waited, ever patient, to fill the land with warmth again. The sun's warmth cascades from the heavens to gently kiss the Earth. It pours itself over my body, inspiring a sensation of calming apricity in spite of the chilling breeze. Long ago, I had often longed to see the sun, that which warms my life and my spirit each day and fills me with glowing vitality. I had been told that "it is bright" and that "it is round", but that it is also "too far away to touch". I knew what round was (I'd felt it before), but bright was just a word-- I did not think it was possible for me understand without the gift of sight.

Years ago, in the midst of a humid winter morning much like this one, I heard a voice call to me as I stood on the hill, feeling the wind. I did not turn to speak, but simply listened. "Lo, man of unseeing eyes," spoke a woman, her voice harsh and beautiful in my ear. "You see naught, yet perhaps deserve sight more than many a man or woman residing in the town." I turned and spoke to her. "Good lady, you or I have no true place deciding who is worthy of what. My eyes may not view as much as most, but I can always see right from wrong. That is enough for me." "That, righteous gentleman, is why I say that you deserve to see more than naught. If you prove to me your generosity, I will bestow upon you True Sight, the ability to see whatever you please." "It does sound like a wonderful gift, good Lady. May I see the sun, if I am to earn this True Sight?" "You may see whatever you wish with True Sight," she said, "and I will give it to you if you complete for me a trial of generosity." "What, good Lady," said I, "would you have of me, a poor, blind man?" Bizzoco 78

"Go to the town and buy me a single piece of white silk," she said. "I will remain here in wait for you." I returned to my home at the foot of the hill and retrieved my leather pouch: in it were three gold coins. "I will buy the silk with a gold coin," I said, "and still have two to pay the tolls to enter and leave." Taking the pouch, I walked upon the dirt path to the town in the valley. The journey took an hour or so, but I knew the road and did not find myself lost. At the gates, I paid the entrance toll and went to find the silk vendor; as I walked, I was stopped by a beggar. "Please, sir, alms for a poor beggar such as myself." The man touched my arm, his hands frail and weak. I felt pity for him, but I had only enough to spare for the one piece of white silk. "But I can not, friend. For I need my gold coin to buy a piece of silk, so that I may have True Sight," said I. "But, sir, I am in great need of sustenance," said the unfortunate man, "and will likely starve if l do not eat today. Please have mercy on a poor beggar, sir. I do not wish to die." My heart softened for the man; I gave him the gold coin, for which he thanked me heartily. I paid the toll to leave and returned along the dirt road to my home. "Have you returned with my white silk?" asked the woman as I approached the hill once more. "I have not, good Lady," I answered glumly, "for I gave away the gold for it to a beggar on the road." "Then, kind gentleman, you have passed my test. In giving up your gold and a gift of True Sight for the sake of a starving beggar, you have proven your generosity. Tomorrow, when you wake, you shall have True Sight." I heard her voice no more after she spoke that final time, and have come to believe that perhaps she was an angel. When I slept that night, I tossed and turned in anticipation, wanting so badly to see the sun for the very first time. At the break of day, I threw off my covers, dressed, and rushed out the front door, opening my arms to the dawn. But, nothing had changed! I rubbed my eyes and furrowed my brow, but saw nothing more than I'd ever seen, any other morning. In agony, I fell to my knees and wept. The morning was cold and melancholy. "Good sir," I heard a familiar voice say from somewhere beyond my door, "Why do you cry?" "I have given all my money up to see the sun, my friend," I said to the beggar as he passed by my house on the road. "I woke up this morning in such excited expectancy, but now find myself still blind. I must not have True Sight." Bizzoco Bizzoco 79

"But sir," said the beggar knowingly, "even if you are still blind, you may still have been given True Sight. It comes not from the eyes on the face, but the eye of the mind." He began to walk away down the dusty path, and I thought about his words. Slowly, I turned my face upwards once more. I closed my eyes slowly and focused on True Sight, letting my imagination paint in vivid color. In my mind's eye, I saw the rising sun as it shone across my skin and warmed me inside and out. It was round and bright, and framed perfectly against the blue of the sky.

Kevin Bizzoco Hillsborough High School Somerset County Grade 12

The Princess and the Poison

The sunlight stabs my eyes, and I cringe. Villagers going about their daily routine give me strange glances as they walk by. One man rides by on his horse, and I pull on the reins that droop down. The horse whinnies, and I look up at the man who gives me a look of disrespect, until he realizes I am the princess. "Princess," the man sputters, awestruck to see my face in the flesh. "I need to borrow your steed." I run my hand along the horse's neck to sooth it. "What for, if I may ask?" The man dismounts his horse and hands me the reins. I look over my shoulder and see the guards. There is no time for me to reply. I leap into the saddle, place the sword on my lap, stuff the scroll in my corset, take the reins, and coax the horse into a canter. The guards shrink into specs behind me as I leave the safety of the fortress. The Pitchwood Forest nears closer to me, and I begin to second guess my actions. Tendrils of fog reach out at me. I yank on the reins and the horse rears up. I anchor myself to the saddle with my thighs and grip the reins so hard my knuckles turn a hot white. My horse snorts and neighs with resistance; it does not want to venture into those woods, and I don't blame it. The guards run through the vacant field of grass behind me, their weapons unsheathed. My horse is still resistant, but I force it forward into the Pitchwood Forest where my ingredients lay hidden in the folds of the darkness. My horse hurtles over fallen trees and bramble with the grace of a gazelle. The guards stand helplessly on the border of the Pitchwood Forest. I grin; I'm braver than the Queen's Guard who are some of the most elite soldiers of the three realms. My horse suddenly rears up and I fall to the side, landing on my back. My sword goes flying. The breath escapes my lungs, and I struggle for air, gasping like a fish out of water. My horse brings its head down towards me and nudges me to my feet with its long face. I smile at my horse. It's almost like it knows I am the princess. "It's not your fault." I stroke the horse's forelock until I hear a twig snap in the vegetation behind me. I scramble to pick up my sword that lays at me feet. I whirl around and point the blade of the sword at my supposed enemy. When I get a good look at my stalker, I see a man with short, stark Ciccarelli 81

white hair and piercing blue eyes staring back at me. He slowly steps backwards. "Whoa, I'm not here to harm you, princess," claims the man. I inhale deeply and notice the man has a quiver of arrows strung over his back and a yew bow clasped in his hand. "How do you know who I am?" The man gives me a meek smile. "I may live amongst these trees, but I am no fool." I slowly begin to bring down my sword. This man is no threat. "What is your name?" "Hadrian," the man answers stepping towards me. "What is an innocent princess like you doing in such a horrid environment?" "The queen has been poisoned." I scramble in my corset for the scroll and pull out the withered paper. "I am searching for these three ingredients." I hold the scroll out to Hadrian. "Do you know where I can find any of these?" Hadrian slings his bow over his back and takes my scroll, taking a glimpse at the ingredients. "A wolfs heart, banshee blood .. . dragon tears." Hadrian looks up at me, a blend of surprise and fear glazing his eyes. "What wrong?" Hadrian is silent for a moment. "Dragon tears; I have never heard of such a thing." I close my eyes in defeat and sigh. My horse nudges my back, almost like it can sense my sadness. "Will you help me find those ingredients?, I will need your assistance. You know these woods better than I do." Hadrian steps away from my horse. "Yes, I will help you, but only for something in return." I clench my teeth. I knew Hadrian would not endure this adventure with me without something in return. "What do you want?" A sly grin paints itself to Hadrian's chiseled face. "5 Emerald Shekels." "Emerald Shekels is a fortune!" I exclaim, startling the horse. Emerald Shekels get their name from the hue they possess; emerald green. The are high in value as they are the scales of mermaids harvested from the depths of the Serpent Sea to the north. "Then I guess you won't receive my help," sneers Hadrian and he begins to walk away. For a moment, I ponder the thought of completing the journey on my own, but I would not survive one night; I need Hadrian. I twirl the ends of my onyx black hair that tickles the

Ciccarelli 82

fabric just above my waist. "Hadrian, stop. I'll pay your fee."

Sydney Ciccarelli, 15 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 9th Grade

Ciccarelli 83

The Beautiful Pain

It is in my heart, it is in the air I feel it everyday, every moment all around, everywhere

its not something from which you can run Nor something from which you can hide It is forgotten and unwanted by none

and It can bring laughter and It can bring happiness it is often sought after

but it can also bring pain it can bring you to tears that crash to the ground like the rain

it can hurt inside as it twists and chums it cannot be set aside

The most beautiful thing it can bring warmth to our hearts until you feel its sting

it is what hurts most of all it can break the strongest of men even bringing them to fall

It is the beautiful pain as it breaks and mends leaving a long lasting stain

it is in the air and all around im sure it is in my bones, deep in my heart and everyday, every moment, it aches, for her

Brandon Evers, 18 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 12th Grade

The Endless Night

Pitch Black. The pitch black of the backs of her eyelids burns into her memory; familiar and ominous. Her hazel eyes fly open- Wide and the blackness persists. The colors drain from her eyes like dripping paint until the world is just an endless night. She tries to see- with all her might.

Pitch Black. Images disappear from her memory like forgotten thoughts A Sound. An unfamiliar sound pounds at her eardrums like a siren Alarmed, she stumbles and falls like an infant learning to walk Distant mumbles form the words "Darling, Darling" and all she can see is a room of that voice.

Pitch Black. She melts onto you for support Pitch Black. She is tom from you and reunited in a warm embrace Pitch Black. Her fingers trace your temples, and she smiles And for a moment the world is bright, But even when her eyes are open, she cannot see the Light.

Janelle Herbert, 17 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 12th Grade

Moment

The light left as easily as it came almost like turning off a light switch and the darkness took over to her it seemed as if a door was closing but it wasn't a life preserver was being thrown

The door creaked close she scooted towards the one and only window a small boxy basement window as she held onto the latch and yanked it open hope flew through the small opening hmmha he chuckled coming closer as he reached up to the tile ceiling to pull the slim white string

These next few seconds were imperative and she didn't intend to waste them.

Yank The glow of the fluorescent bulb lit up the room making her absence known

Megan Hollasch, 15 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 9th Grade

To Where'd They go that Pesky Human Race?

My flower bloomed with hints of silver specks. I leapt through fields of wheat, and sang with glee. The petals blooming fast, and seen complex. My ears can hear the buzzing from the bee.

The sun is shining bright on my young face. I feel the wind and hear it call my name. To where'd they go that pesky human race? It's weirdly quiet would you say a shame?

I am not used to being with the bees. I am not used to being by myself. I am not used to being without trees. I am not used to being by myself.

My world's been turned around and tied in knots. My mind is lost In my own sea of thoughts.

Olivia Johnsen, Hillsborough High School, Somerset County, Grade 9

My Piano by Rishona Kumar

Once more my fingers brush against the keys Once more my eyes shut then, I am released Chords flutter around me like a light breeze My heart crowded with music becomes pleased

A doll appears, offers her hand so small And so we dance away our agonies My passion seen in this tangible doll Our smiles bleed harmonious melodies

Once more my fingers firmly bang the keys Detonating fifty-two sounds, nothing Silence. This, I won't be able to seize The doll's breaking, the chords diminishing

I should have realized nothing I love lasts Now only remembrance which lies in pasts

Rishona Kumar, 15 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 10th Grade

A Man in the Dark We are standing, facing each other. White eyes, in the blackness of the dark

My hands in restraint, my feet unable to be maneuvered My heart's beat getting more stagnant. Small footsteps dwelling in the dark

No light, no vision A dead sun I weep, I moan, I beg. But, no light.

I imagine, the grass, the sun the life. I can only imagine, nothing more, for I am bound to the chains of death.

When the entrance creeks open I see the little light. The light from up above, the light from the people who put me here.

An ancient incense in the darkness. I see nothing, only a glimpse of the bars in front. But, I hear. I hear the footsteps, I hear the water tapping the cold rugged ground.

I am a man from punishment. I am a man of darkness. I am a man alone .... I am a man alone. Zain Moin Hillsborough High School Somerset County 9th Grade 89

Untitled i spend too many nights picking at yesterday’s scars, knowing damn well they won’t heal until i let them be; the only thing I am certain of is the darkness that saturates my room, and the shards of past memories that impale my chest a window sits ajar, welcoMing the sky’s ever so intent greetings; but I gave up yelling at the stars years ago, when they never muttered a feeble response. and maybe we See the same reflection and maybe I’m just hoping but maybe your pieces were eaSier to pick up than mine i taped pictures of you to every wall of my mind; your eYes fragile with hope like a limp rose, and that Obscure smile as fake as your promises. they reminded me of my constant fear, but i feel time has caUsed that to fade away, and i am no longer afraid, and I’d do anything to see you again;

Jake Naroden, 15 Hillsborough High School Somerset County Grade 9

"A Blood Tinted Rose"

A blood tinted rose Near a frozen stream, Arrive in the path Of my shattered dreams.

Listless from agita, It crumbles and wilts. Craving nourishment, It sags and it silts.

Saddened by rebukes from The thorns it encloses. Screams all its secrets It refuse to disclose.

The little vexations Made it a mockery. Everything taunting it For all its debaucheries.

The flower slowly dies, From each crass phrase. Coalescing with dirt, Its joy set ablaze.

Stutee Patel, 14 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 9th Grade

I ran into the car and waited for Erik and Mommy to join me. They said we'd be going to play in a field of wheat. I asked them why not just the playground like usual.

"Joey, we go to the playground pretty often, I thought it would be nice to change it up a bit by trying out this distant, remote, unsupervised field of grain. Doesn't that sound like fun?" I don't know what half of Mommy's words meant, but it sounds fun! Besides, the park was becoming boring- Same old slides, same old swing set, same old teeter totter- It was exciting to think about the new equipment I could use at the field! I hoped there weren't any scary orange flamingos ...

When Erik entered the car, I asked him, "Erik, are you gonna play space robot wizards with me when we get there?" Space robot wizards was my favorite game to play with Erik. Even though he was older than me, running around with pretend laser-blasters and pretend wizard powers as we dueled was fun for both of us!

"Actually, Joe, I don't really feel so good. Would it be alright if I lay down and rested for a bit after we arrive?" At that, Mommy entered the car. Ha, our car. Sometimes my friends look at it and ask me why we have a pile of metal in our driveway.

"Why is there a big pile of scrap metal in your driveway, Joe?"

"I don't see any crap metal ... What's a crap metal, Georgey?"

"Not crap- scrap, with an s. And it's that thing with rusty tires under it!"

"Oh, that's our car."

"THAT'S a car? I would've never known."

Vrabel 92

I don't know what George meant by it, but I guess our car also looks like this stuff called

crap metal. I wonder what that is. I'd usc this thing called "Googlc" to find out, but Mommy says

we're too poor to have a computer. I don't know what a computer is, or how it has anything to do

with google. All I know is that most of my friends have little shiny things called tablets that let

them google and play games and all sorts of cool stuff. Maybe we're too poor for that too ...

Mommy got it the car, and began to battle it, as usual. Everytime we wanted to go

somewhere, Mommy had to fight with the car to get it to turn on. Some of my friends say it

needs a mechanic; some say it needs a crap yard. Wait, maybe that's where you find crap metal!

I'll have to write these questions down so I can ask my friends to Google them for me later.

As Mommy struggled and struggled to get the car's engine to start, she finally won, as

usual. Then, we started going all the way out toward the fields of wheat. I wonder what'll be

there? New friends? New slides? New swings? It was all new to me, I've never seen a field of

wheat before.

We were driving for a long time, and Erik said he felt hot and sick. Not long after

Mommy said we were there. I certainly didn 't see anything. There was nothing but short yellow

trees all around us, barring the road that brought us here. I asked Erik if he was ok enough to

play space robot wizards, and he quickly replied by puking. I didn't see that coming. Mommy

took him out of the car and told me not to move as she cleaned it up. Then Mommy told Erik to

lay down over there by the wheat.

"Mommy, what's wheat?"

"Joe, don't you see all the tall golden grass surrounding us?"

Vrabel Vrabel 93

"Oh, you mean the short yellow trees? I see them, Why? And wherc's all the playground equipment?"

"Joe, well, we're not at a-" She was interrupted by Erik falling down. I told her that he does that when we play when I shot him. I told her it was called playing dead. She didn't listen, and ran over to his side. I didn't move, like she asked me to. Then she said we had to go. I tried to ask why, but she was in an agitable mood and immediately rejected the sound coming out of my mouth before I could even form a single word.

As we got back into our crap metal, I asked her why she's leaving without Erik. Mommy started to cry. It was the first time l saw her cry. I hope it's the last, because it made me cry too. As we left without my brother, I had a funny feeling that that was the last time I'd see him. Mommy said through her tears that I was right.

When we got home, Mommy went into her room and closed the door. She told me to stay quiet so she could rest, but all I heard coming from her room was crying. I stayed quiet in my bedroom anyway, playing with the few toys I had. I knew I was poor, and it bothered me alot. Because it was late, I decided to try to go to bed. Mommy was still crying. I wonder if shell stop i hope so in case the orange flamingos coming for us mommy said scare them off for me theres nothing scarricr than orange flamingos just nothing i wonder if thats what erik is now nothing well i hope hes not nothing but if he is nothing than itll be sad because i love him im really tired I wonder if well ever play space robot wiz ...

I woke up the next morning surprisingly tired. Maybe I had another orange flamingo nightmare.

Mommy was on the phone with someone. I thought of how Erik said she used to talk to daddy on the phone. I miss Erik. Mommy just hung up now. She told me to go put on black clothes. I wonder why.

Tyler Vrabel, 15 Hillsborough High School Somerset County 9th Grade

Hillsborough middle School

The World’s Favorite Game

The ball is passed up and down Now to the right, now left He shoots the ball real high Then the keeper makes an incredible dive

The keeper punts the ball into the sky It soars up, up and up until it is extraordinarily high A player jumps up and heads the ball He watches his teammate receive it as he falls

There are 10 more seconds on the clock The crowd is about to burst into a berserk flock The player is fouled and given one last shot He kicks the ball and it soars through the air and lands on the dot

It’s a miracle, he scores The crowd roars He trots to the corner And celebrates his goal

Simon Angelo, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Miracle at the New Meadowlands

On one crisp winter day, Towards the end of the season, The Giants were demolishing the Eagles It was like the Eagles were David and the Giants were Goliath And the Giants just kept on scoring.

But out of nowhere Brent Celek miraculously catches the ball, Then dodges a tackle, And runs in for the touchdown.

Soon thereafter, The Eagles are in the red zone now down by only 7, And with stellar stance in the pocket. Vick stays tranquil in the pocket, And heaves the ball to Maclin who scores.

The crowd is in shock. Merrill Reese is babbling about No Medals for Valor. And on 3rd down Manning is sacked. Matt Dodge punts the ball, And it’s a knuckler.

Jackson muffs the punt, Then picks it up as meticulously as he possibly can, Then dodges defenders and runs down the sideline. He runs along the goal line and steps in which means. The Eagles Win, the Eagles Win!

It has been a long time since that occasion And the game was as exhilarating as any other. Eagles’ fans remember it as the greatest game in history, While Giants fans remember it as the one that got away.

Patrick Carew, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

Jupiter

The ground is dull, boring, and bland The air bears no breeze, dust, or sand The sky is full of a cloudy scene Never has another setting been so serene

A massive storm lights up the sky The serenity’s ending is nigh The winds pick up with a horrible shriek The noise is too loud to hear myself speak

The sky flashes with purple and blue When it will stop, I have no clue The ground is suddenly torn from its place The whirlwinds easily swing it like a mace

Suddenly the clouds part in the sky The lightning stops and the winds die The peace begins to settle in The cycle of the storm again begins

Thomas Cavagnaro, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

My Brother, My Gift

Ever since I was born, There was someone special by my side. He was someone I adore, Who is always there to guide me.

Though we fight, We share many laughs. In my mind, our memories are bright, Without him, my heart feels as if it’s been broken in half.

My brother left for college, I thought I would be okay. But, the second he waved goodbye, My eyes filled with tears.

I knew this day would come, But, I never thought it would upset me, Now that I have experienced it, I know the truth.

My dear brother, teach me To be the person that you are. You’re a knight in shining armor, And you’re my bright shining star.

Now, what makes a brother? It’s quite difficult to say. Except he is the reason, Why my sun shines every day.

Oh, how much I miss you, But, I’ll be okay. The memories are buried in my heart forever, And there, they will stay.

Asha Chandaka, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th grade

Ming Undercover

“Good morning Ming, what do you want for breakfast?” my mom greeted me with a smile. “Good morning mom, I’ll have cereal, thank you” I replied. My mom started to pour the milk when she got interrupted by my dad. “Elizabeth did you hear?” my dad asked. “About what?” she replied. “Come here” my dad said. I asked what was going on but I got no response. I couldn't hear them but I heard something about “...we have to get out…" My mom came back to the table looking worried. “What’s up?” I asked. My mom replied “When you're done eating go up and pack a bag. The Nazis are getting close and we need to get you to protection. Dad knows this family that is willing to take you and pretend that you’re a part of their family." “What about you and dad?” I asked. “We'll be fine, we're going to lay low somewhere else" my mom said. I finished my cereal and went to pack my bags. I packed clothes and my special teddy bear that my parents gave to me. I zipped up my bag and walked to my parents. They too had bags. We started on our way. After a couple of hours we ended up at a giant house. “Ming this is where you will be staying for a while” my day said as he knocked on the door. A big muscular guy answered the door followed by a beautiful lady. “This is Mr. Clyde and Mrs. Vera” my dad said. “You must be Ming" Mr. Clyde said to me. I replied with a frightened face “Yes that would me.” “No need to be afraid. This is the Murphys, they will be taking care of you while the Nazis are searching here" my dad explained. “But I look nothing like them and don't even know them” I replied. “I know but they will give you a makeover to look like them and they will teach you to act like them. Just try your best to be part of their family and don't worry about us, we’ll be fine" my dad said. He handed me my bag and pushed me in. I greeted them and told them my name. They walked me up to my room which was bigger than my whole house. I was amazed. “Thank you for making me part of your family and not hating Jews like Hitler" I said thankfully. “We are glad to help. How old are you?” “I am 12.” “Great we have a son who is 12 also, his name is Hank. I think you two will get along well” he told me. “Get settled in and in the morning we will give you a makeover. They showed me were the shower was how to work it. I took a long shower. When I got out and changed. I opened my door and walked down the grand staircase. I felt like I was in a castle. “What do like to eat for dinner?” Vera asked. “Anything works I’m not a picky eater." “Great I am making steak with French fries!” Vera said happily. “I love steak but I haven't been able to eat it since we aren’t that wealthy. Can I ask you a question? Mrs.Vera”

Clark 99

“Go ahead Ming." “What am I going to do if my parents don't make it?" She paused for a while. “We would be glad to take you but your parents are in good hands. Don't worry everything will be ok" I helped Vera make dinner. When it was done and all eaten I started to clean up. “You don't have clean up. Go up and a get a good night rest” Vera explained. “Ok, good night Mr. and Mrs. Murphy." “Good night Ming and Hank will be here in the morning for you to meet" Clyde said. I walked up the stairs to my giant room. I laid down in my king size bed and yawned to sleep. Cock-a-doodle-doo! My eyes opened, my vision was blurry was cleared up in a couple of seconds. It was 6:32 am, and the sun was just rising. I got of bed and got dressed leg by leg, arm by arm. My door creaked as I opened it. “You’re an early riser I see,” Vera whispered, “May I get you something to eat or drink?” “If you have orange juice that would lovely, thank you.”

Vera got my drink took me outside. “Hank and Clyde will be home shortly, they are getting stuff for your makeover." Vera was really nice and tried to make me feel as much as part as this family as possible. I peered across their open two acre lot with a giant pool. “Is that salt or chlorine?” I asked. “It is chlorine, come take a closer look" we walked up to it, it was spectacular. “I've never seen a pool this big." “I love it, do you know how to swim?” Vera asked. “Yes, why?” I asked “We can take a little swim, you can wear one of Hank’s bathing suits" “Thank you but I brought my own" I sprinted up the staircase and jumped out of my clothes and into my bathing suit and back to the pool as fast as a clock ticks. Vear came down shortly after me. “Before you jump in come meet Hank.” “Ok I will be glad to meet Hank" I as much as I was excited to go swimming, I would not pass an opportunity to make a new friend. “Hank this Ming, Ming this is Hank” Clyde introduced us. We greeted each other and talked a little. “I see you were going to go swimming, do you mind if I jump in too?” Hank asked. “No not at all" I replied. Hank ran off to his room to get changed. “The Nazis can show up whenever so we need to get you looking like Hank before you jump in" Clyde told me. “Ok" I replied. I sat down, I was kind of scared but I tried not to show it. They started to play with my hair. When they were done my hair was a color of Hank’s hair. “Luckily you have the same color eyes as us. We bought you some clothes like those we buy Hank. If the Nazis come, pretend to be in our family. If they ask you what you name is you say Ming Murphy" Vear said. “I don't think I can do it, I don't know your family that well." “You will be ok. Just do anything that they ask and don't give in." “Ok, I will do my best" “Go swim - Hank is waiting for you” “Ok" I went over to the pool and did my famous front flip side dive into the pool right after Hank did a double front flip into the pool. The pool felt amazing at a scary time like it was. Vera came in shortly after Clark 100

us. Clyde couldn't just watch so he did a giant cannonball that sent every under water. I came up with a giant smile on it until I heard a loud thump on the door. The smile quickly disintegrated. “Who’s that?” I asked. “I don't know, I will go see” Clyde replied. “Do you think it could be them” I asked Vera. “If it is just do as we practiced, keep swimming.” I dove under water and swam to Hank who was on the other side of the pool. “Hank, Ming over here please” Vera called us. We swam over under the water coming up to two giant men with guns. “What are your names” a soldier said. “I am Ming Murphy.” “And I am Hank Murphy.” “Were going to take a look around for any stow away Jews that you might be hiding" a soldier commanded. They spent a couple of hours searching the place --stopping every few minutes to interview us. After about three hours they left leaving a giant red X on the house. “You did great Ming" Vera said. Hours passed and it was time for bed. At 1 am I heard the loud thumping again. I jumped out of bed and ran into Clyde and Vera’s room. Hank was in there too. Clyde got out of bed and went to the door but as he was walking down the stairs the door swung wide open and soldiers came flying in. Half came upstairs and half stayed downstairs. They barged into the room we were all in. “Why are you all in here?” the soldier asked. “When you barged into our house you scared them so they came to me to see what was happening" Vera responded. “What’s that mean?” the soldier said. “It means that you have some guts to come in and scare my kids like that" Vera responded in a ragged voice. “BOOOOM!” the soldier shot Vera right in the head. “MOOOOOM!” Hank shouted and jumped on her. I didn't want to give myself up so I did the same. “What was that?” Clyde shouted from downstairs. He came sprinting up stair to see his wife dead. He dropped to his knees and started to cry. Then I thought what if the same thing happened to my dad or mom. The soldiers moved out and house went silent. There wasn't a sound for about an hour. Until then was another loud thumping on the door. This time they didn't break it down. Clyde answered the door and two medics came in with a stretcher. They went upstairs and took Vera’s body away. “Why would they do that?” Hank asked. “Because they are mean, mean people" Hours went on and before we knew it, it was a new day. “I am so sorry for your loss" “It’s ok there is nothing you could have done." Once again there was a loud thump on the door. “What now” Clyde yelled. He walked to the door and answered it, but there was no one there he looked all around until he saw the paper at his feet. “NO WAY!” Clyde yelled. “What?” Hank asked Clark Clark 101

“The war is over the Americans took over the Germans" he replied. We got up and cheered. “So when are my parents coming back?” I asked “I don't know, sometime today." While he was saying that there was a knock on the door. Clyde came to the door and standing there was my mom. “Ming it is for you." “MOM” I sprinted to her and gave her a great big hug. “I’m so happy to see you Ming" “Where’s dad?” I asked. She paused for a second. “He died trying save me. A German soldier found us and he had me a gun point but your dad charged at him, the soldier shot him you dad knocked the gun out of his hand so I picked it up and shot the soldier" I paused for a second and just now there I realized how Hank and Clyde felt when Vera died. “Mom can I talk to you outside?” “Yeah sure what’s up” she asked. “Vera got shot by a German soldier” her mouth dropped and she did not know what to say. She opened the door and said her sorrys. “You guys are welcome to stay with us if you want” Clyde said nicely. My mom took on that offer. A couple years went passed and Hank and I had gotten closer than ever. My mom and Clyde had gotten married. Our two families got united as one after a terrible war was fought and two of our loved ones were killed.

Kyle Clark, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 7th Grade

102

The Darkness Creeps In

It fills you with sadness It eats at your soul Its concept is madness And its heart is cold coal

It comes without warning Or even a sign You wait for its arrival However, it’s never on time

It creeps in like a ghost in the night Or a bug who is cold Everyone tells you that you’ll be alright But that saying gets old

When it knocks on your door You know that it’s time You say your farewells For one last time

It takes away your soul And your very last breath That’s its life goal Because it’s Death

Corinne Consentino, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

103

The 2011 New York Giants Season

2011 was a memorable year for the New York Giants Starting off as underdogs and ending as World Champions The chatter started when Eli Manning claimed he was elite Like a shuttlecock in a badminton game, that statement was shot down

Their 6-2 start was no walk in the park Ending a six game losing streak against the Eagles Defying all odds by defeating the New England Patriots They never skipped a beat

Then they began to suffer defeat Like a monsoon storm, it came out of nowhere Criticism blowing around like wind on a cool, crisp winter night Bringing them to a state of discouragement

Coughlin rallied the troops Trumping the Jets once and the Cowboys twice Victor Cruz’ 99 yard touchdown guaranteed That the Giants would clinch the NFC East

The playoffs were when they got hot Creaming the 5th seed Atlanta Falcons and the top seed Green Bay Packers They secured a Super Bowl berth by finishing the 49ers off The prognosticators were caught by surprise

They would wipe the floor with the Patriots again This time in the Super Bowl, by a score of 21-17 Happiness erupted all across the New York area In the end, they won it all!

Nikhil Damle, 13 years Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

104

A Heroic Canine

“Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.” Being in that war is like having no treats. Hi, my name is Tykster, and what I heard is the German army being sent out to kill innocent, Jewish people. “Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.” The year was 1933, the year World War II started. Luckily for me, I was a dog, so I had nothing to do with this, or at least I thought I didn’t. “Go out and kill the Jews, for they are Germany's ills!” The person who said that was Adolf Hitler. Hitler was the Chancellor of Germany, and he HATES Jews. He thinks the Jews are the reason why Ger- many lost World War 1. That day Hitler vowed to himself that when he became the chancellor, he would get rid of the Jews for good. He even wrote a book about it. At first, everyone thought he was joking. But as soon as a president called Paul Von Hindenburg made him Chancellor, let’s just say that president must be bad at making choices. I don’t even know how he became a president if he made that choice. Anyway, now Hitler leads an army of people called Nazis. These people agreed with everything Hitler thought and decided to help him. Once this happened, most of the Jews got killed. So at that point, the Jews were either hiding or dying, but none of this concerned me. My house was in the middle of nowhere across a mud puddle, but it was better than nothing. As soon as I opened the door, I see a mouse eating my food. The mouse said “Hi.” I shouted at him “What do you think you’re doing here, this is my house, so GET OUT, NOW!!!” He ran for his life. One thing that I hate is people who get in my house when I’m not there. It’s really annoying having to get unexpected visitors. I have a very limited supply of food, so when I get a new supply of food, I don’t want anyone to take the supply I have in my house. I like living alone in my filth, which is why my house is a dump in the first place, which is the perfect place for no one to find my house. Except for my friends. Once I dealt with that mouse problem, I heard footsteps walking toward me. “Great, who’s here now” I wondered. Once I opened the door, saw a man, a woman, and a little girl who looks desperate for help. “Hey look, there’s a dog here” the girl said. If these three people look desperate, then they’re probably Jews. The man looked like he was getting impatient and said, “Is there an adult in this house, or is the house empty?” I was about to tell him that only I live here, but he wouldn’t understand me. So I decided to let them in and closed the door, but I was getting ready to kick them out with my very small dog feet. After I closed my door, the little girl followed me around my house. “Hi, my name is Adina, what’s your name” she said. I managed to get passed her and got myself some food. The woman was looking to see if there was any food and water, but that food and water was MINE! The man was helping the woman, and the little girl who called herself Adina is STILL following me around. These people are so annoying. I was getting extremely mad knowing the fact that these people went in my house. If these people are Jews hiding here, they got another thing coming to them. The man said “We will hide here until its safe.” This is ridiculous, they’re not allowed to just walk into my home. I tried barking at them, but that didn’t do anything. Then the man broke my bark shelf. Dooley 105

At this point, I was getting so mad, I shouted “Everyone stop and get out of my house, NOW!!!” When I said that, they couldn’t understand me and was getting a little scared. I guess it’s because I was barking at them. After a while I started getting tired and let them stay, they wouldn’t know what I was trying to say if I told them to get out anyway. After a while, I heard something. It’s Hitler. He was saying something that sounded important. I tried to tell the family, “Hitler’s out there, you need to hear this.” Luckily, the family knew that I was trying to tell them something. So when it was quiet enough, we all got to hear what Hitler is talking about. Hitler said, “The Jews have no right to be in Germany, or on this planet. I don’t care how long it takes to annihilate all the Jews. Luckily, I have a plan. This plan is the Final Solution of destroying the Jews. Then I will get back at them for making us lose World War l.” Well that was interesting. “Hi, it’s me again, Adina” she went on, “Your collar says that your name is Tykster. That’s a weird name for a dog.” The man introduced himself to me and said, “Hi, my name is Aaron, and my wife is named Adena, and were Jews.” I said “My name is Tykster and why are you in my house.” Aaron looked at me and said to Adena, “Is that dog trying to say something?” It was killing me with the fact that they didn’t know what I was trying to say. Then I heard Adina asking her dad “Why are we hiding again?’ Aaron told her “Well, that one day,” Aaron says, “Everything looked like a normal day for us, but then, we looked out our window and saw German soldiers come marching to our doors, with a new Chancellor called Adolf Hitler. He said that he wants all the German soldiers and these people called Nazis to kill all the Jews here. Knowing this, we managed to escape, but we saw so many of our people get killed. Other Jews managed to escape like we did, but we knew they would come looking for us and start a war. So we decided to hide away and survive until this war ended, but we don’t know how long that is going to take. Anyway, we’re running out of hiding places and needed to stay here so the Nazis don’t find us” Great, now there are two reasons why I can’t kick these people out of my house. This kinda stinks for me. Then Aaron asks Adena “Is this dog a hunting dog.” I barked “Yes.” They must’ve thought I was listening, and took me outside to see if I am a hunting dog. In less than 5 seconds, I got them food. So now every day, I got food for me AND the family. I really hope they don’t hide at my place for long, because I was kinda getting sick of them already. About seven years later, year 1940, not much stuff has changed, except everyone is just older. So far the Jewish family has survived in my house by eating and drinking the stuff I find for them. Luckily they don’t ask where I got it from because believe me, they would not want to know where their food is coming from. Sadly, the Nazis were getting close to finding my house lately, so they might find out that I was hiding a Jewish family and kill them. Then they might even kill me. I had to make sure they didn’t find that out, but hopefully, they don’t find out that the dump of mud, wood, and bunch of broken tree branches are house. As the Nazis were talking near my house yesterday, it sounded like there aren’t that many Jews left. I didn’t really care about that though. All I cared was that it’s getting very risky staying at my house. Two days ago, one of the Nazis were millimeters away from kicking down my door. This could cause a problem for the family, but more importantly, it could cause a problem for me. Dooley 106

The next day, I heard Hitler trying to punch my door down shouting, “Open the door NOW!” I had to wake up Aaron, Adena and Adina so we can get out of here. I shouted “WAKE UP OR WE’LL DIE!!!” That woke them up right away when they heard me bark. Then I pointed them a way out. In my back wall, there was a hole that led to a safety room I keep for emergencies. We all went under there and closed the hole right before Hitler shot my door down. He sounded really mad when he saw there was no one was in my house. Then he said “Hey, Nazis, to make sure no Jews are hiding here, destroy this garbage house until it turns into rubble.” After a couple of minutes, I decided to go up to see my house. When I went up to see if they were gone, I saw nothing but two jars of water and only one piece of wood. At that moment I was like a bomb ready to ignite my fuse until it blows, but eventually, I started to calm down. Then I went back down and told the Aa- ron, Adena, and Adina “It’s still not safe to go out, Hitler hit my house with the Nazis until there was nothing.” They didn’t understand a word I said, so I just nodded telling them that everything was fine. After I did that, Aaron said “We need to get out of here and hide somewhere else or we’ll be found” I kinda felt bad for them that they knew it was their fault that my house was destroyed. So barked at them saying “Maybe I can help you with that. I have a friend who owes me three favors, and maybe he will let you stay at his place until this war is over” After I said that, they suggested that I was trying to tell them something and that they should follow me. Then we heard this sound. “Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.” So we all got out of the hole and went to my friends, but one thing I didn’t tell them is that myfriend lives very far away from me… But I was sure they’d figure it out. About two years later, we were almost at my friends place, and it looked like Aaron was getting tired of this. While we were walking, we kept hearing Nazis and had to hide. But the only thing that was bugging me, was what me and the family heard Hitler say nine, almost ten years ago. He said he had a plan which is the final solution of destroying all of the Jews. But I had more important things to do than worry about that, like finding my friend’s house. Then Adena said, “It’s turning dark, we need to go somewhere safe to sleep.” “How about over there” Adina said. It was a tree with a lot of leafs on the top covering some kind of light. We all went up there and found some kind of camp with a light in it. No one was home, so we decided to camp there until morning. When everyone was sleeping, I was half asleep. And I heard something. They were Nazis, and they were saying something. I decided to go in a little closer so I can hear what they’re saying. One of the Nazis said, “Do you think Hitler’s Final Solution is going to work.” The other one said, “It did work. It already worked.” It sounded like Hitler’s plan worked. But what was the plan. Then I heard another Nazis ask “What was the Final Solution again?” The other Nazis replied, “It was a plan that Hitler started a year ago. The plan had four killing groups called the Einsatzgruppen. Each groups had commando units. In the first two days, about 30,000-35,000 Jews were already killed. And by the end, which was this year, the Einsatzgruppen killed more than 1.3 million Jews” After I heard that, I told myself, “We need to move.” I went back up the tree and tried to wake Aaron, Adena, and Adina up, but they wouldn’t budge. Dooley Dooley 107

“Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.” There was that noise again. Then I heard someone say “Hey, there’s a light over here, I’m gonna go check it out.” When he said that, I realized that I forgot to turn off the light. I was starting to freak out at that point. Quickly, I turned off the light, covered the camp up with leaves, and went straight to a branch on the tree to go to sleep. Once I did all that, I heard the Nazis say “Never mind, there's nothing here” The next day was a new year, year 1943. We all woke up and I didn’t tell them what I heard last night. I thought it might freak them out. Eventually, we finally got to my friend’s house. The family knocked on the door. As soon as it opened, my friend looked at me for five seconds. Then he barked at me and said “This better be good.” When he let us in, I told him about what happened over the years and that my house got destroyed. While we were talking, it looked like the family was a little shocked not knowing that my friend was a dog too, not knowing what we were saying, but they got over that fact. After I was done talking with him he looked confused. He said he understood, but I was not sure he knew why I brought the family with me. Once I told him that he still owes me three favors, and that I was using one of them to let the family stay there until the war is over, and another to let me stay there, then it looked like he understood. He told me “Fine, but they better not stay here for long.” I told him “They probably won’t be here for long.” Two years later, year 1945,, on the day April 30th, it sounded like the war is almost over, and that Final solution Hitler was talking about ended. Eventually, the family found out that the war was over and that it was safe for them to go outside back to their home. That explained a lot for me. Because when the war ended, I saw no kaos, no Nazis, and I could finally see the sun again. The only thing that was missing for me was a place to live. It was time for me to leave. But right when I was heading out, Rocky told me “Are you OK, you look kinda sad. Are you still bummed out about your house” I nodded. Then he said “Hey, you still have one more favor, how about you use that favor to stay with me for as long as you want” That made me feel better. Beside, my house wasn’t gonna get repaired anyway, and I did need a place to live. So I stayed. Everything was sort of back to normal. And I never heard this sound again. “Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.”

Nick Dooley, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 7th Grade

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The Holocaust Survivors

Hello I’m a Jew named Jonathan Porter. I was a survivor of Kristallnacht. Later I was put into a concentration camp. I was transported to Flossenburg Concentration camp north of Munich, and south of Frankfurt and Berlin, Germany. I was a 12 year old boy taken away from my family at the time. I had six siblings including me and my two brothers and three Sisters. There is me, Jonathan, Demetrius is 14 years old, and Gary is 15 years old. Those are all the boys. The girl’s side of the house is Mindy at the age of 12, Helma at the age of 17, and Kathleen at the age of 9. My family is known as the Porters. We lived right outside of Berlin more in the suburbs. But we were shipped all over Germany to different types of concentration camps because we were Jewish of course. Me and my family are originally from the U.S. but moved to Germany. After the war was started and I had foster parents because -- well, you will find out why.

Sometime before the War... “Ding! Ding!” my mother signaled that dinner was ready and we boys and girls needed to come and eat our dinner. “What is for dinner tonight mother?” I said in an exhausted voice from playing with my friends all day. “We’ve got pasta tonight. Got it straight from the market today” all of a sudden it was like a stampede of children boys and girls came running in saying. “I'm so hungry Mom -- is it almost ready!” all the children cried. “Yes it is almost ready -- everybody sit down and get a plate. You can dish it out yourself on the table” mother said to all of the six kids that were at the table. The pasta was gone in a split. “Now you boys and girls go and do the math problems on the board upstairs in the attic” mother instructed. Me and my sisters and brothers were homeschooled in an apartment off the main street of our loud and noisy town. Constantly I would hear cars speeding by and honks and even sometimes like really loud sounds and I thought they were gun shots or something. Me and my family were not the richest people in the world but we still had food on the table at least and were not starving ourselves. But then, my dad had moved out on us when I was four but some of my older brothers, when they were like my age, and had to go through that. My older brothers work at the outdoor fish market because our mother is at the house all day depressed because our family is poor. I was out in the backyard watering the plants. Mother asked me to do it since she thought I was being smart and not listening to her. “Crank! Crank! Crank!” a giant tank rolling up the hill. “Mom why is there a tank rolling down the street!” I said to mother. “Get into the house quick -- go downstairs and hide with your sisters. I’m going to find your brothers at their jobs at the market -- stay here” my mother said panicking out the door. Hours went by and me and my sisters did not see my mother or two other brothers until around 2:00am knocking on door. “Let us in the Germans are destroying our town burning stuff and shattering thousands of glass windows looking for Jews” my brother Demetrius had said panicking.

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I opened the door and led them to the basement where we were all were laying down and sleeping quietly so the Germans would not capture us just because we were Jews. All we heard all night was shattering glass windows and Germans separating families. Babies crying and mothers get separated from their children. “Mother, Mother, wake up a German police officer is at the door. What should I say?” Gary said whispering. “They are asking if we know any Jewish families or are we Jewish? They will send us to concentration camps what should I do?” Gary said. “I and all of us will come and tell them to get out of our house and never come back!” mother said out loud and very angry. “They will just separate us and send us to different places!” Gary whispered. “Do you have a better idea than that? They will figure out sooner or later we have to turn ourselves in children I’m sorry. We will be killed in those concentration camps but we may see each other again” mom said tearing up. We as a family walked up the stairs. There were the German soldiers we told them we were Jewish and they took us away and put blindfolds on us. We did not get to say good bye and we never saw each other again but me and my brothers were put on the same train and my sisters and my mom were sent in the opposite direction to another concentration camp. “Brothers, we are on the same train!” we all shouted. “What are we going to do we are going to do get killed?” I said. “I’m suffocating in here” Gary said. There were about a hundred people in this small car on the train and you did not know anyone but your siblings and if you were lucky your whole family. “Aus dem Zug Warenkorb!” the soldier said in German. I did not understand what he had said. Me and my brothers just looked at everyone else and followed them so we did not get into any trouble. “This is going to be the concentration camp you will be in for a while. It is called Flossenburg Concentration camp. You will be executed here and maybe lucky. If you try to escape you will hunted down and killed automatically” the German general said trying to say it in English as clear as he could. The General had opened the gates and let us to wooden rooms with blankets to sleep with and that was it. “Why are you crying Jonathan” Demetrius and Gary said to me. “I’m sure we will see our sisters and mom again in the future please don’t cry-- we are not trying to too.” “Ok, ok I’ll try” I had said. “Gary and Jonathan go to sleep so we don’t have to worry. Sleep through the night and see what happens” Demetrius said. “Aufwachen! Aufwachen!” said German soldiers banging on the wood walls of the cabins holding 100 people.

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The German General spoken English said “Line up! Line up! Those fifty people to the left go into the room on the east side of concentration camp and the rest of you go back to where you slept.” He pointed at people as he spoke. Me and my brother Demetrius stayed together and Gary was sent to the other side of the concentration camp. “Your brother is so dead” the old man had said quietly. “Why do you think that” I had said. “Those fifty people are going to be put into a chamber and gassed that is poisonous which will kill your brother” the old man said. “Oh my god. I lost another! Why god! Why! Why to me -- why can't he survive!” I screamed. “It is ok calm down” Demetrius said with his hands shaking and crying at the same time. “I have a plan we have to get out of this concentration camp. I know how at night we will have to dodge out the guard but not a lot because the wall is like four feet tall and there is not a lot of them because I checked last night looking between the pieces of wood.” “I guess so…” I said still tearing up. It got close to night time and I was getting ready for the escape half scared that I was going to be put in a chamber and gassed up. “It is sunset and pitch black out. Let’s go” Demetrius said quietly. I opened the door quietly but heard a loud creek. I worried that the guards had heard us but they did not. “Go. Go. Go run to the small wall over there right in front of us” Demetrius whispered. He had come with me and got to the spot with me. “We are at the gate --now we need to get the guard distracted without him seeing us. Oh almost forgot – I told that old man to watch us while we go and distract the guard” Demetrius said. All the sudden I heard a big “Bang!” from the cabin. All the soldiers ran to the cabin and we walked right out of the concentration camp and then ran as fast as we could till we could not breathe. “Ok now we have to figure out how to get to a shelter nearby” I said to Demetrious catching my own breath. “Oh I know there is the U.S embassy like two miles from here in the suburbs and where we live” Demetrius said. “Ok good. We better move fast before the German soldiers realize we are not there.” It took us about two hours to walk to the embassy and get into the building “We are finally here!” I had said to Demetrious. The American soldiers just automatically let us in when we said we escaped the concentration south of the embassy. “We are safe know Jonathan there is nothing to worry about…”

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Me and Demetrius were shipped off to a foster home after the war and were there for the next couple of years and lived very happily from that point and had been adopted by a German couple. We lived with our foster parents until we went off to college so someone could take care of us but these foster parents were not nice to me and Demetrious. We just did chores for them so they didn’t have to do them. But it was ok for a couple years because me and Demetrious went off to college and got away from them. I did not like them because they reminded me that my parents were dead. Me and my brother went to the University of Hamburg Northwest of Berlin but pretty close to home -- driving distance to Berlin’s suburbs area. Me Jonathan and Demetrious pretty much stayed together our whole lives staying very close and went back the concentration camps that my sisters and mom were sent to so we could remember them better and we went to the concentration camp that we were sent to, to honor Gary our other brother that was killed there. I still get nightmares about leaving my sisters and mother and one brother. Just the name of the camp Flossenburg freaks me out but I know one thing -- I’m a Holocaust survivor.

Mike Fox, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 7th Grade

Artwork: Shefkije Berisha, 13 Alexander Batcho Intermediate School Somerset County 7th Grade

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Mom

The one who should love me the most, Is the one who treats me the worst. Her, who I should trust, Is always making a fuss. A fuss because she wants forgiveness, But honestly, she deserves much less.

A girls bond with her mom should be bulletproof, But, lately her actions have thrown me off the roof. She has torn out my heart, And ripped me apart.

I’m so thankful for my daddy; he acts like a clown, He always cheers me up when I am down. He is here for me when I need it, But my mother is not here, not one bit.

All of my friends have great mothers by their side, But thinking of her makes me mad, I just want to hide. It’s so painful, I try to forget, But because of everything you have done, forgiveness is something she will never get.

Don’t get me wrong I do miss my mom, But now it is time for me to just move on. I know she is angry because I lost all respect, Honestly though, what does she expect?

So mom if you see this, it’s a final goodbye, You and you only, know why.

Victoria Franco, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

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My Japanese American Internment?

It was all over radio and newspapers. The bombing of Pearl Harbor, “1,800 Dead and Still Count- ing!”. My parents were worried, I didn't know why. Maybe because the Japanese bombed the harbor and we were Japanese. I didn't really care. All I thought about was that I had school tomorrow.

“Dinner,” my mom yelled. I ran as fast as I could. When I saw what she made, it made me disappointed. It was chicken with Brussel sprouts with rice pudding for dessert.

“But mom, I'm not hungry -- I don't want to eat,” I begged.

Mom replied with an angry tone, “You better start eating healthy mister or you’ll end up fat like your father!” I got mad to, and sat down looking at my plate.

“Darling!” my dad yelled. Mom ran upstairs as fast as a cheetah. But she wasn't the only fast one. I immediately called my dog.

“Max,” I whispered. His little ears pricked up and he ran over jumping up and down. He was a York- shire terrier that weighed only a few pounds. “Shhh,” I whispered. I look upstairs and saw no one was coming. I pushed my food off my plate and put the cup of rice pudding on the ground. Max was excited to eat real food. He never eats his own food. Then I heard mom and dad coming down. I held my fork and knife in my hands and put the spoon in the empty pudding cup. I smiled and said, “That was the best dinner ever mom.”

“You have better saved some for me son,” my dad said.

“Harold. You know that you're overweight so you're only getting half of what you normally get,” Mom said angrily. Dad was about to yell back but he knew she was right. He sat down while mom put his plate on the table. “It’s time for bed sweetie,” mom said trying to be nice. I sighed and went to bed.

Before I knew it, it was morning. I was starving. I rubbed my eyes to see my mom standing there, looking real mad. I got nervous immediately.

“Yesterday night Max threw up chicken, Brussel sprouts and rice pudding! Do you care to explain!” mom yelled at the top of her voice.

“I...um… he got it off the ta-” I tried to lie.

“Don't give me that! I took the food off the table right after your dad finished! You're not getting anything to eat until lunch at school, and you're going to have to use your allowance to Grodzki

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buy it!” Mom was furious. Then she turned around and stormed off down stairs. So much for a good morning. I brushed my teeth and packed my book bag. I waited for about ten minutes for the bus. When I saw it coming down the road it wasn’t getting any slower. It just drove by my house.

“Wait for me,” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Running and running, I was starting to lose my breath. I ran until the next stop. I saw that the bus stopped there but not at my stop. When I got to the bus, the bus driver almost closed the door on my book bag. The bus driver didn't even say hi.

As I was about to sit in my seat my friend Johnnie said “This seat it taken.”

“But I always sit here,” I replied, but I knew he wasn’t going to give up the seat so I just sat on his hand. No one was looking or talking to me. The rest of the school day was like this. When I raised my hand the teacher didn't call on me, during recess nobody would let me play with them. This was weird.

When I got home from school there was this huge green military truck in front of our house. As I opened the door I saw two American soldiers talking with my parents. “Mom what’s going on?”

My mom looked over the soldier’s shoulder and replied “Get upstairs now.”

“But mom—” I tried to argue.

“I said now!” she shouted back. I ran upstairs and stopped at the top trying to eavesdrop on them. I couldn't make it out but I didn't dare go closer. My room was small with a desk, and a bed with drawers to keep my cloths in on the side. I looked out the window at the green truck.

“What could they want?” I thought. Then I saw them walking out with our belonging. I ran downstairs and said “Why are they taking our stuff?”

My mom replied angrily “Get back upstairs now or ill spank you with a belt.”

“But their taking out stuff,” I trying to look innocent but that never works, so I just went back to the window. Watching them back and forth up the driveway with our stuff loading it into the truck. I realized that it was only the Japanese paintings and decorations that we had. After a half an hour of watching them the soldiers got in the truck and drove away.

“You can come down now!” my mom yelled up the stairs.

I immediately asked, “Why did they take our stuff?”

My dad answered, “The military wants to make sure that we aren't spies for the Japanese.”

“Was that why no one liked me at school, are we actually spies?” I thought but the more I questioned myself the more confused I got.

I sat down and listened to the radio I heard the radio man say “….There are over 2,000 deaths Grodzki so far Grodzki 115 from the Pearl Harbor bombing. Please wait one moment… We just got new reports that there are about 2,500 dead from the bombing, stay tuned to hear what the President Harry S. Truman has to say about the bombing. Will we join the war or will we keep out of Germany’s business?”

The rest of the day kind of just went by. I couldn't stop thinking about the soldiers that came to our house. I felt like I was going insane.

The next morning when I got to school four kids were waiting for me. “Lookie here -- we got ourselves a Japanese bomber,” one of them said.

“What are you going to bomb next, Washington D.C?” The next boy spat at me. The boys laughed at me and circled around me. I got nervous, and then one of them threw a punch at my back. Another One of them threw big rocks at my face. As I fell to the ground I could feel tears going down my face but it was really blood. I saw people and teachers just walking past me.

“Everyone stop!” I saw a Japanese teacher standing in front of the boys. “This is unacceptable! The four of you are going to get suspended for at least two weeks!” She was furious. The teacher helped me up and took me to the nurse’s office.

I could barely hear the nurse say, “He should go home immediately -- I don't want someone like him around.” I felt depressed; no one wanted me around, no one except my parents care about me.

“Is this what It feels like, being a Jew in Germany?” I thought. All I wanted was for the war to end and I wanted to be treated like a human again or maybe I was overthinking it. When I got home feeling light headed I said to my mom, “Some kids beat me up at school.”

“I'm going to have a word with their parents if they don't say their sorry tomorrow!” her motherly instincts kicked in after hearing that. She picked up the phone and called the school right away. I could hear her yelling at the phone saying, “If those kids don't apologize to my son tomorrow I’m going to beat them up myself!” When she hung up the phone she slammed it onto the table.

Markus Grodzki, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 7th Grade

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Are we living or are we dying?

Do we do the extraordinary, To continue our denying, Of a candle that’s burning out?

Do we want to be unique, To prove that we exist, In this opaque mist?

Do we celebrate youth, To prevent the crying, Of the demise that approaches?

Do we make the most out of every moment, So that there is no regret, When the end is met?

Did we try to find time, To try to fulfill the selfish need, Of overcoming time’s deed?

Do we mourn the dead, To avoid the awful dread, That we might be next?

Do we try to write our book, To change the outlook, Of a fate that meant to be?

Do we try to create inventions, To paint a massive canvas, Of a legacy that lasts forever?

Are we living or are we dying? Do we know the truth, Of this daunting question, That can never be truly answered?

Shreya Kelshikar, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th grade

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Vacations

I travel north and see the bright red claws on my dinner plate. I hear the motor of jet skis as they race like airplanes.. I smell the sizzling campfire as I roast crispy marshmallows. I taste Anna Belle’s Cake Batter Ice Cream as it melts in my mouth. I feel the wind blowing on my face as I hold on to the tube. That’s when I know I am in Maine.

I travel south and see large green quills on trees. I hear the high pitch call of seagulls. I smell the salty air. I taste my Mickey Mouse shaped waffles. I feel the warm sun beaming on my face as I lie down and chillax. That’s when I know I am in Florida.

I travel east and see tall buildings. I hear taxis honking their horns, I smell the stale, boiled hot dogs. I taste the chocolate samples at the M and M store. I feel the crowd as I walk on the sidewalk. That’s when I know I am in New York.

I travel west and see a second floor balcony with white columns. I hear the barking of the yellow lab. I smell the green freshly cut grass. I taste the tortellini. I feel the comfort of my Tempur-Pedic bed. That’s when I know I am home.

Corinne Leoni, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

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Winter Wonderland

Snow flurries lazily floating in the air. Boisterous shouts of children are heard from Here and there. Snowballs soar through the sky like cannonballs.

A snowman is built, that looks as if Olaf Stepped out of Frozen, and onto My front lawn.

At home, the kettle whistles like a train horn. Mom prepares delectable hot chocolate for the family. The rest of us are curled up on the couch Watching Grease.

The kids barrel in from outside. Their cheeks are crimson, like a rose. Mom hands the kids hot chocolate. The boiling concoction warms their insides As they sip on the beverage.

They then join the rest of us In the family room, sitting down In front of the crackling fire in order to Get warmed up. Days like this make me love the winter time.

Brooke McCormick, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

119

A Day without Warning

A normal day in New York No one knows what’s in store A city full of people Going on with daily lives

The Twin Towers pierce the sky Many planes zoom by Two are lower than the others Not an accident, an attack

Smoke, fire, and crumbling Screams and shouts filled the air Pain heartache and sadness A day never forgotten

A stamp on United States history Innocent people never to return A blanket of silence over the country Pride shaken but never lost 9/11 will be remembered forever

Mara Murphy, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

120

DARKEST HOUR CHAPTER 01: LIGHT

It’s dark. I can’t see a thing, though I was still able to move and I feel myself breathing. “Where am I? Who am I? What am I?” These questions kept on popping up in my head as I stood here in darkness. Until, I finally saw a shed of light in the distance. I followed it until I found an unknown alien-like creature sitting in a throne.

I remember that day; the day I met Razor. He’s a great man; He fought for his city and took care of me when we first met. I was just a slave to that alien creature until Razor came and saved me from there to his safe hideout with those two friends of his, Sniper and Snipe. They always did seem alike -- like twins. Though it seemed like they could never understand a word I ever said or thought, I always understood them loud and clear.

Though Sniper and Snipe left on another journey and left me in the care of Razor, he always told me stories his dad, Damon. I’d always tag along with Razor when he’d go on a journey even though I wasn’t a fighter at all. Yet, the creatures Razor would fight back never seemed to attack me; instead, they’d try to take me away from Razor. Though Razor always found a way to get me away from their grasps. We went on many adventures, we’d even run across Sniper and Snipe.

Although, many weeks have passed since we’ve last seen them. And now that that alien creature is gone, the town rejoiced in its defeat. Yet, the next morning, I woke up ready to take on the day with Razor… but he wasn’t anywhere in the house. I, being as patient as I was, decided to wait for his return in case he was out. He always did say “I’ll be back in 30 minutes” before he’d leave the house, and he always came on time. However, an hour already went by and he was still gone.

“Maybe he’s at the beach, he always did like relaxing over there” I thought.

I remember he always told me “When I’m alone, stay away from the beach.” Although, in this situation I didn’t think he would mind me just going off to look for him. So I grabbed my backpack, sketch pad, pencil and left the house.

I got to the beach near the house, but he wasn’t in our usual spot. I began to feel a little worried knowing that this wasn’t like him to leave me alone for this long. To calm myself down I opened my sketch pad to draw a little, until I found a sticky note written from Razor.

It said

Rodriguez 121

“Dear Light, I’m sorry for alarming you but I needed to head off to the forest really quick. I didn’t want to wake you up so I left this note here so you’d know to stay home and that I’ll probably arrive home in 30 minutes. If I don’t arrive in time, stay inside and lock the house. -Razor” He never sounds this worried, but I didn’t want to hesitate. Razor was wise and always knew what to do and what was coming, and if it sounded this serious, than it had to be. I headed towards the house but before I could even reach the sidewalk to our house, I heard a scream coming from a distance. Someone was running this way while these two creatures chased them with big weapons. Everyone started to panic and run away! I made a run for the door when I was stopped by one of those creatures. I stood there still not making eye contact until I heard him say “What are you doing? Attack!”

I replied to the creature asking “Wait, What’s going on?”

“Oh I see, you were part of the Saber Division.” He told me. I was surprised

to see he actually knew what I said. Razor, Sniper, nor anyone knew what I’d say.

“Saber Division?” I asked him while he replied “Come with us, There’s a lot you need to be caught up on.” After he said that, he made a loud screeching noise and the other creature ran away from the town.

The one creature grabbed my arm and made me follow him out of the town. We were walking through the forest when he finally spoke, “Listen, the Saber Division fell apart after an evil man known as Saber didn’t keep his half of a deal with our King. So we had to attack him. However, he was able to trap some of our soldiers into a brainwash and seeing how you didn’t attack them, we believe you were brainwashed.” I felt pretty scared to think about the chances about me being brainwashed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll deal with this problem soon enough.” Yet, after he finished saying those words, one of the creatures was shot in the head!

“EVASIVE MANEUVERS!” He yelled. I looked around in panic until I realized Sniper was shooting them from above in a nearby hill. Strange however, he was always with his little brother Snipe; where was he? But I didn’t have time to think, gunshots and blaster noises were coming from every direction, I had to act fast! I noticed Sniper looked at me for one second before I saw him get shot on the arm. I realized he wasn’t gonna make it unless he had help, I ran in his direction to help!

As I ran I heard the creatures saying “HEY! WHERE’S HE GOING! Don’t worry, he’s gonna get the medicine he deserves” After that, I heard a gunshot…

Ronald (ROD) Rodriguez, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

122

11 Years Old

She was eleven years old, Looking into the mirror she hated what she saw. A blindfold of society, Unrealistic standards that left her with awe.

Mom and Dad fighting, She covered her ears. That she could hide from, But not the demons and fears. They made homes inside her head, 11 years old they were leaving her for dead.

She had pain she thought she could finally stop. Not with Band-Aids but with the help of knives and pills. Drowning memories that lived inside her head. She needed someone, Anyone who could save her from the monsters under her bed,

At thirteen she tried one last time. But when she went to say goodbye that night to her newly made friends, There was a hello the next morning.

Words hurt more than sticks and stones, I know because I’ve seen it, Felt it in my own bones. A life is too precious and too special to lose, 11 years old is too young to get bruised.

14 years old she can proudly say she is one year clean, One more year still alive. No longer blinded by the rules of society, Because of two strangers who became her friends for a little while. Every life is worth saving so do not turn a nose, 11 years old when she was first overexposed.

Jillian Romito Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

123

Hats

Hats. hats, they’re all that Capacious as the sun, or miniature as rats. Green, blue, red, or yellow Hats look marvelous on any fellow.

Hats for sports, or just to decorate, Hats are worn on any date. Winter, summer, or rainy fall, Hats make any time superb as a ball.

Hats are fluffy, fuzzy, fabulous, fun, Magic hats are excellent for everyone. Cheese hats, visors, and even sombreros, From Wisconsin, to Florida, and down in Mexico.

Keeps you frigid and absent from the sun, Keeps you sweltering when there is none. Sit and recline in your hat shade, Watch as the sun will vanish and fade.

Hats can be worn through day or night, Hats can be astonishing through a fight. Hats, hats I’ve tried them all. Hats, hats, are glorious and that is all.

Stephen Trampe, 13 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

124

Goodbye Michael

Michael was so young. He carried around so much joy. Michael was always smiling. He was full of life and joy.

If he was still here, I’d tell him not. If he was still here, he would have thought. If he was still here, he’d come to church. If he was still here, I’d tell him not to search.

If he was still here, there’d be smiles piled high. If he was still here, I’d stay by his side. If he was still here, there would be no pain. If he was still here, I’d ask him to explain.

Now that he’s gone, I’ve cried a river. Now that he’s gone, there’s no message to deliver. Now that he’s gone, his family’s hurt deep. Now that he’s gone, all his mom does is weep.

Now that he’s gone, everything has changed. Now that he’s gone, a funeral was arranged. Now that he’s gone, I wonder “what if’. Now that he’s gone, he won’t have another jiff.

Since he isn’t here, I can’t say “Hi”. The last thing I said, it was “Goodbye”. There’s nothing to do, except shed a tear. So goodbye, Michael, I wish you were still here.

Karli Villano, 14 Hillsborough Middle School Somerset County 8th Grade

125

Manville high school

Insomnia You're lying in your bed Flooded with thoughts that press against your closed eyes. You wonder about that comment you made about a co workers outfit and about your teacher's face when you admitted you didn't do your homework You suddenly become interested in the meaning of life and question the existence of aliens. You think and think until you see the sun climb toward the ceiling you spent the night staring at.

You trudge through the day, constantly refilling your coffee mug. Your body does every task like a computer, while your mind convinces you every keyboard is a pillow "I'll sleep tonight" you say to yourself, unsure if the sleep will ever come.

Jamier Bailey, 17 Manville High School Somerset County 12th Grade

126

Two Men in a Bar

There are two men in a bar, one of them is human, the other is not. The nonhuman isn't anything particular, but merely a being, like any, with his own unique characteristics. He isn't some ancient deity or some extraterrestrial mutant, but he is not human, and so he cannot sympathize with the human for what is about to take place. The human, a man dressed all in black, and the nonhuman sit in a bar in Nowhere. The nonhuman is a drifter, the man a native of Nowhere. The bar, empty except for the human, the nonhuman, and the bartender, is a dive. The human orders a whiskey, the nonhuman water. After getting their drinks and paying him, the bartender disappears into the backroom behind the bar, not remerging until the sirens come, after the two men-although one cannot be a man, because he is anything but- left. The two men drink their drinks and do not talk. Both of their eyes are transfixed on the T.V. above the bar, showing a reporter dressed in a bullet-proof vest and screaming into a microphone. "It's chaos here in Pul-i-Alam. Riots have turned into violent insurrections that threaten the city unless the police control them. It's getting very dangerous here, everyone. From Pul-i-Am, I'm a Ken Kennedy Kenson, Chanel 13- back to you." The man in black laughs aloud and his nonhuman companion looks at him blankly, wondering why the human would laugh at such a thing. "Another country goes up in flames," the man says. "Indeed. Such a tragedy," the nonhuman says back, disappointment in his voice. "That's three now," the man says back, lifting the glass of whiskey up to his mouth and tilting it down his throat. "Why do you hate them so much?" the nonhuman finds himself asking. The man laughs, shaking his head. "Savages, all of them. As long as two people are alive in this world, one of them's going to want the other dead for some reason or another. It's typical, and it's tedious, but worst than that it's repetitive." "Not always," the nonhuman points out. The man laughs again, harder this time. "It was Greeks, then it was Romans. It was France, then it was the English. It was the Nazis, then it was the Americans. Civilization is imperfect and built on lies and murder. Every ideal is born through deceit." "I suppose that is one way to look at," the nonhuman says. Chachowski

127

"It is the only way to look at it” the man corrects him. A woman enters, her blonde hair flowing like the ocean's tide. She is a woman from the man's past, and he knows it just as much as she does. They are in a town where they both live, and a town where they both went to a bar on the same night, and a town where they both loved each other for one night that seemed like an eternity ago. The nonhuman knows this, even if the man thinks he doesn't. The man tries to hide his face, his head leaning over his glass. The woman spots him regardless, and she meekly says, "Hey." The nonhuman watches, not interfering with business that is not his to interfere in. The woman walks up to the bar and comes in between the two "men," and looks at the man without looking over her shoulder at the anything-but-man. "You said you'd call." "I said a lot of things I didn't mean," the man says coldly, sipping at his whiskey. Coincidence is what brought the woman and man together on that one night in the town they both lived. Coincidence is what made the woman decide she needed a margarita to calm her nerves after the day she had had. Coincidence is that the man was there also. But it was not coincidence that caused the woman's palm to slap the man in the face. No, because I'm afraid that was merely bad luck for all parties, the man, the woman, the nonhuman, and the bartender who had to call the police in the backroom. The man, whiskey spilling from his mouth from the slap and leaking onto his crimson tie, stands up. He reaches inside his jacket, and he pulls out the only thing inside his jacket, which, coincidentally, was a small gun. The man points it at the woman. The woman sees it, but she does not seem afraid. She begins to back away, and the man's gun follows her steps. The nonhuman is the only one to speak, uttering a soft word, "Don' t." The nonhuman has tried, but he has failed. His human companion pulls the trigger to his gun, and the woman receives a small piece of metal flying through her chest and landing in the heart that had once loved the man. The woman dies like an angel, her body landing delicately on the ground. The man looks over her, his arm and the gun he's holding dropping downward and now pointing at the ground. His eyes are emotionless, and he feels nothing. The nonhuman looks over the scene. His eyes are speaking for him with horror and despair. Somewhere behind the bar he knows the bartender is calling the police. "She was in love, and only wanted another to love her," the nonhuman says, still looking at the woman, though she is no longer a woman any more than he is a human. Chachowski 128

"Sure," the man says, unconvinced. "She was in love. Yet she died like anything." The man fixes his eyes on the nonhuman. "You were righteous five minutes ago when we were watching the news, and a minute later you watch me kill a woman without even blinking. You could have stopped me. You could have done a million different things, but you didn't." He shakes his head, each wag of his hair afterwards a punch to the nonhuman. "You really don't give a damn about human beings, do you?" The nonhuman looks from the man to the woman, his eyes never blinking. "You could have not pulled the trigger. You could have let her live. I am not a god; I do not control free will." The nonhuman looks up, eyes filled with sadness. "If man chooses to sin, why should I care to stop them?"

Richard Chachowski, 16 Manville High School Somerset County l0th Grade

129

A Private Affair

"You know, this is the type of stuff that's going to land us in jail," Kendall hissed, clenching her jaw as I scoffed. "I'm sorry, do you think this is a game, Ryan? We just broke into someone's apartment!" I rolled my eyes and slipped past her to close the door she had left gaping open. The hallway light pooling in a thick stripe across the floor disappeared as I quietly nudged the door shut. I winced as the very clear click of the lock setting in place rattled. "Look, we didn't break in," I took a few cautious steps forward and ventured into the now very dim spacious area. "This is your sister's place. My best friend's place. We're all very close here, does that make you feel better?" Without waiting for a response, I slid past her towards the kitchen counter. Kendall huffed, her footsteps heavy with purpose behind me. I clenched my jaw but didn't say anything as I snagged a small stack of mail that was sitting near a basket of slightly bruised apples. "No," she said flatly. "Keri doesn't know we're here, never gave us permission to snoop around, and we picked the lock. So yeah, I think that qualifies as breaking in." "Look, do you want to find out or not?" I rolled my shoulders and looked her in the eye. "You and I both know that something has been up with her. Keri never acts this secretive. She can't keep a secret from us for two days, let alone six months." As Kendall exhaled loudly, a couple dark curls floated up around her forehead. "Yeah, but she's twenty-three-years old. She's a big girl. I don't want to pry, you know? Whatever it is, if she needed help, she'd ask for it. Maybe we're making a big deal out of nothing." I sighed, dropping her gaze and turning back to the pile of mail. Her stare was boring on the back of my head, but I didn't bother to turn around. That would just be an invitation for another attempted guilt trip. "I know what I'm doing," I said emotionlessly. Kendall didn't reply, and for a minute I thought she was going to leave. After a few seconds, she moved besides me, peering over my shoulder and squinting at the envelop in my hands. "Wait wait wait," she whispered, stopping me from flipping to the next one. "Why is that going out to Las Vegas?" Ciuksza

130

I paused mid-flip and slowly turned it back over. Kendall was right. "What the hell?" I muttered, shaking the thick envelope slightly. "It feels thick. Almost like it's filled with ... Money?" A tense silence descended over the room, creating an unsettled lump in the pit of my stomach. "We live in Miami ... " Kendall stated quietly. I nodded absentmindedly, staring down at the potential code-cracker that rested in my hands. This could be the key that opened everything Keri had been trying to hide from us the past half of a year. I was on the verge of an epiphany, when the distinct sound of a jiggling doorknob yanked me from my trance. My head snapped up. I met Kendall's stare, her wide brown eyes stretched so far that I could see the white around her irises. "Go go go," I hissed. My jerk made her jump slightly before stumbling forwards. We heard voices behind the door, rising and falling in conversation as we scrambled to hide. On the other side of the room, I spotted the futon that Keri spared for overnight guests. As I pushed away the thought of why the couch was out in the first place, I fell to my knees and dove under its sloppily strewn blanket and sagging mattress. I dragged Kendall down with me. Her thin body structure slid almost effortlessly between the mattress and the hardwood floor, while I struggled to wedge under my shoulders. Breathing heavily, I finally was able to wiggle up next to her just as the lights over head flicked on. I froze, and Kendall shot me a worried glance. Her voluminous hair was being pushed down by the dip in the mattress, making it gather around her face in a fluffy mess of curls. I attempted to regulate my breathing and crept forwards even more, so I had a clear view of the apartment. Keri and Jake were standing right in front of me. She was wearing a tight black halter top that showed off more of her smooth, pale skin than either of us were used to seeing, which made the dangly cherry on her glittery belly ring seem that much more eye-catching. Her red pumps clicked across the floor and moved across the room. She paused in front of the dresser. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth out of habit; a new rush of anxiousness coursed through me. I held my breath for fear of being heard. Her brother Jake always did have weird talents, such as an uncanny ability to sniff out a fake dollar bill at first glance or sense a cheese sandwich from a mile away. It wouldn't surprise me if he could detect people lurking in his Ciuksza

131

sister's apartment. "I don't get paid enough for this," Keri sighed. Paid for what? That envelope was only feet from my reach--what could possibly be held in its neatly packaged confines? Would we get caught (or with Jake in the room, killed) before we ever found out?

Amy Ciuksza, 15 Manville High School Somerset County 9th Grade

Artwork: Julie Chandara, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade 132

"No"

So a guy in a bar has obviously downed a few He walks up to a girl and offers to buy her a drink She says, "No" He spits at her feet and tells her, “Bitch, you're too fat anyways."

A girl walks home with her head hung low to minimize any attention from strangers She hears a man "compliment" her ass and ask her to come closer She says, “No" She walks faster, her fist clenched with keys between her fingers and 911 already dialed He doesn't stop He grabs her from behind and places the barrel of gun to her head "You are mine," he growls He pulls her into an alley and forces her open So he can "conquer" her body She screams at him to stop He stops her cries by jamming his tongue down her throat

A 14 year old girl, just a freshman, is asked by a senior to flash her breasts for $20 She says, "No" He grabs her shirt and pulls it down Smirking he says, "You're flat chested anyways"

A 16 year old girl The daughter of a mother and father Sits on a hospital gurney 1 0 hours into the painful process of labor All because someone decided that their satisfaction was more important than her peace of mind Or her sense of security

An 18 year old girl sits at a desk in the back of class The teacher calls her into the hall She points out that the girls' shoulders are visible She says, "Boys being boys will get distracted" So the 18 year old is forced to cover up

Why should our education be paused to cover up bare shoulders? Why is a boys education more important than a girls confidence and her own education? Why are their "needs" more important than our peace of mind?

Hidalgo-Cruz

133

Why doesn't "no" mean "NO" anymore?

If a girl wears a short dress, she is "asking for it" If a girl wears a tank top, she is "asking for it" If a girl has a low cut shirt, she is "asking for it"

When we don't carry around pepper spray, we don't take "necessary precautions" When we don't take self-defense classes, we "make ourselves vulnerable" How about instead of teaching women to protect themselves from men, we teach men to respect women?

When she says "no" it means "NO"

Tamara Hidalgo-Cruz, 14 Manville High School Somerset County 9th Grade

134

Life Without Time

The ancient door splintered my hand as I yanked it open in a haste taxed causing my arms to scream and my legs to shake. The water dripping through the tunnels echoed through my ears as I silently trudged through the mice-infested wooden halls. They would never understand my desire to break the life binding rules. My uniform stuck to my sweat-soaked chest and my ann brand ached as I had gotten it renewed one week ago. It has the word Mancipium snaked just under my elbow on my forearm. I turned several corners before checking with my map to be sure that I already knew these tunnels by heart. Thoughts flashed before my eyes as if I'm in two completely different dimensions at once. Today marks the tricentennial anniversary of the end of the former world. Long ago, when people first inhabited the earth, they had decided to put a measurement on nature as a further excuse for their inadequacy as a species. People were enslaved by the very phenomenon they had illustriously and ignorantly invented to prove their own existence. Time, was the label plastered on their mistakes and blunders, and it had been blamed for their deficiencies as human beings. People destroyed their natural resources and the natural orders of their insufficient society. Of the 12 billion people who inhabited the earth, only fifty survived the nuclear apocalypse. No one knows the background of the fifty, the circumstances of their survival, or the true elaborate details about the fate of humanity; and no one is allowed to ask. Time had been completely eliminated in my world. A person's life is measured by the services he or she offers to nature and the world leaders in power as opposed to measuring it by the ticks of a secondhand within a miniscule circle. According to my map, there were six miles of these dark passageways, which sneaked and sloped up the forbidden mountain. I was told as a child by my educator that these vast tunnels were created by past humans who searched for rare nothings in the ground. I have yet to discover the matter which they had considered significant enough to complete such monstrous travesties, tearing into the ground as if it was owned. “Mines," I had whispered under my breath. I averted my thoughts to last night, when my life changed completely. Celebrations had been ignited by lights that shot up in the violet skies and awakened all those who fell prisoner to the noise of their streaks.

Hvizdak 135

Trudging through the dark woods, I regretted remaining at my station for longer than the rest of the Dependants, or citizens. My station migrates each year to a different section of the reserves occupied by humans, and we tend to the wildlife, restore plants, grow food for the main section of the district, and feed the endangered animals. Humans numbers have grown to about ten thousand, as we have limited the number of people allowed to live on earth to work in respects to our leader's wishes. I peered up at the interwoven branches of the trees standing around me, and I happened to notice a small black figure shuffling behind the large Redwoods. The figure was carrying a satchel strictly reserved for the Private Facilities-forbidden grounds for all Dependants, no matter their station. I quietly gasped when I saw the twinkle of the silver lettering labeling the level of confidentiality of its contents. Thief! Before I knew it I was already hitting him over the head with the nearest fallen branch available to me, leaving the figure unconscious. I had, for once, impressed myself, despite the fact that I belong to the weakest station known to the human district. I knelt down and examined the satchel's contents out of sheer curiosity. I had a difficult time distinguishing the differences between the melting of the ice cold moon against the violet sky and the feeling of my tears melting onto my iron-hot cheeks that autumn night. I found myself flipping through the sinful pages of the plans, rules and documentation stolen from our leaders and leaning against the uninviting bark of a Redwood after I had removed myself from the unconscious stranger. My heart had disintegrated into millions of drops of blood that soon turned to acid, burning through the pit of my empty stomach. My entire being, along with thousands of others, were a part of an elaborate scheme designed by the fifty that had survived the apocalypse. They had been brainwashing the Dependants since birth to trick them with the illusion that they were working for their own human race. In the satchel, there was a small Latin booklet that contained the keys unlocking the language and small translations, and at that moment, I peered at my brand, which clawed at my frail arms. My finger traced the small bumps and indentations of the printed ink on the book's pages, craving for the translation of the word I had been forbidden to know since I had first seen it scared into my flesh. Slave, it read, and that was when I took this satchel, shoved its papers and booklets inside, retrieved a tea-stained map from its grasps, and ran because my life depended on it.

Hvizdak 136

After rounding the last comer of the vast tunnels, I had approached a locked safe buried inside a wall. Using the sequence of numbers on the back of my map, I had managed to unlock its thick metal doors with a sudden confidence and reassurance not discovered in me beforehand. Dangling on its delicate, tinted chains, the last known clock ticked, and at that very moment, I knew that the echoes of its seconds would beat into my sweat-drenched palm, allowing me to communicate the sinful truths to my people and cause the next great revolution.

Michaela Hvizdak, 15 Manville High School Somerset County 10th Grade

Hvizdak 137

Old School

I sit back and ponder, on the wonder of fools trying to fatten their pockets. Make sure you look far so ain't hard to knock it. The feds have their own plan leave us currency chasing. Hard times are hot so I need a fan for these worrying faces. I learned the rhymes of struggle from the one and only 2pac. So it ain't fine when people say the music's provac- -ative, because he tried to give the truth. Unlike these new rappers who only speak of their new found loot. But I had respect for Biggie on the song "Gimme the Loot" Cause I too used his rhymes sometimes acting as if they were mine. Yo but the album I studied was the Illmatic. It was the crack and I was the addict. Also, Aquemini cause the flow was impeccable. The project was not low but rather a spectacle. l suggest you take a listen. Cause you don't know what you're missing. Who can forget the mad Big L? When making a gem, it was on the shelves. Playing the Big Picture all around school. Walking around thinking I was really cool. But my favorite being All Eyez on Me. Cause I really got to see. Pac's own magnum opus. Which just open All the doors for these cats. Sorry, Dark Man X, I meant to say dogs. They jumping on tracks like they're frogs. Like Jordan with their mad hops, don't know when to stop.

Kunjurnon 138

Legends and legends with all their fame. For the work they put into The Game. 50 Cent made Get Rich Tryin. All the gems keep on shining. Poke around the hip-hop archives. You'll see where all the classics lie. Remember what Pac said “What more can I say" "I wouldn't be here today" "If the old school didn't pave the way."

Snehel Kunjurnon, 15 Manville High School Somerset County 9th Grade

Kunjurnon 139

Cold winds blew outside the window. Waning moonlight did little to help a solitary candle illuminate two figures. Then, there was the sound of liquid sorrow hitting the wooden table. It was not the first, nor the last tear; each one falling from the eyes of a young girl. Sitting across from her was a man with grey hair like a upside birds nest and a face like a melting candle. The of the man's attention was on the window to avoid causing any discomfort to the young girl. Eventually her sobs were now stilled more than the second before. With only his face expressing any care to her emotions, the man spoke. An Irish accent heavily diluted by anglophone assimilation filled the room, even dimming the sounds of the storm outside. ”What happened after the crash Ms. Silver?" the man said after a long period of time. Mattie did not seem to move a muscle. Every few seconds Mattie would sob, but that's all that you heard from her. Finally, she sniffled and turned timid eyes on her companion . “I remember cold winds, cold winds all the time. I felt cold without Ethan in my arms. I remember hearing a breath that I was sure couldn't be mine; it was the breath of a wounded creature, a dying person. Then I knew for sure. I knew it when he called for me, saying my name with such agony that I could not resist going to him," Mattie mumbled. 'The pain was terrible for me, seeing him laying on his side in the snow; his limbs spread out with his left leg and right arm bent seventy degrees, in the wrong directions. I called his name, but then he seemed to struggle in a fit of anxiety that I had never witnessed in him before. Then I realized he could not see me; he was faced away from me. Rushing to his side to check his pulse, heart-beat, and how much he breathed in, I knew there was nothing I could do for him. There was no hope, and there would never be Ethan in my life again. The man smiled but held a annoyed expression in his eyes. Mattie realized she was wasting time on her own emotions rather than the events. Just as soon as her realization came across so did a new emotion; resolution. She wanted Ethan's final seconds to be recorded with as much love as she could put into words. It would be her gift to Ethan.Mattie continued with her lamenting tale. "Ethan turned to look at me; his eyes were filled with such pain that I cannot describe. He said in a ragged voice." "Mattie. Are you alright? My arm is broken, I can feel it, and my leg feels like fire from hell. This cannot be heaven, there is way too much pain. Yet it cannot be hell because an angel like you cannot be in hell."

LeVay 140

"So I am dying." Ethan began to get quiet. His eyes turning to the sky; he seemed to shut down momentarily as if the world had some new grace to it, one which could only be seen in deaths paralytic grip. I continued with our conversation to keep him going "Ethan I'm okay and you're going to be okay. I can get you to a doctor. We are not that far out where this is no safety, I'm sure we are close to safety." But Ethan was silent; his eyes were not moving from the sky. The wind howled like flutes. The tree branches seemed to be thrown together, creating sound like string instruments. The very earth had lamented the passing of a man who had given her so much even though he himself had very little. The night felt never-ending, but at the same time, she wanted it to be longer or better yet to have never had occurred. When the night did end, the dawn heralded the arrival of a group of men. They were passing by on their way, curiously enough, to the very village which Ethan and I had sought to escape. I had fallen asleep, my head upon my late lover's chest. I was too sleepy to shed more tears and words of sorrow, but as a man came to help me to the wagon, I broke away from his weak grip. I stumbled a few feet before falling to the ground. "And Ethan; Ethan too," I said with such a timid tone it could have been an inquiry. It was an underlying demanding tone that made some of the men shake their heads in pity. Two younger men lifted the body and brought it to the wagon. I was horrified to find that the body did not go limp, whether from post-death paralysis or from freezing during the night. I forced myself to concentrate on Ethan's face, not wanting to again witness the sight of his body in its grotesque pose. Another tear drop hit the table, glistening in the candle light. "And is that it, Ms.Silver? Is that all?'' the man asked, moving his glasses up his nose as he did several times before. Mattie replied saying, "No, no it isn't. I have more I could tell, but can't. These memories will always haunt me. I cannot go on. I am sorry." The man looked at his watch and out the window as he waited for Mattie, just making sure she had nothing left to say. The storm had stopped. He finally replied, "Its alright. I believe it is time I went. I will contact you tomorrow morning. Farewell Ms. Silver." "Wait." The man paused with his hand on the door knob. "How did you know Ethan?"

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The man whispered something almost inaudible before he left the room. His words rang through Mattie's head before it managed to hit her mind. She gasped as she remembered the man saying those last words. "He once called me papa."

Carley LeVay, 15 Manville High School Somerset County 10th Grade

Artwork: Aimee Sarboukh, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade 142

Lost

We're bumper to bumper. You look ahead, to the red light glowing with purpose. Your hand reaches for the glove compartment, Searching but you forgot the map. Our only option is to take another route.

Ashley Michalski, 16 Manville High School Somerset County 10th Grade

143

Companionship

I could see him walking around the corner of the street, looking down as if everything had disappeared. I could no longer see him, but I knew where he was going since he takes the same path every day. Except this day he was carrying a big wooden container filled with many things. Though I did know what he was doing with it I approached him. I had seen him walking around school but never had the chance to talk with him. He appeared confused and lost, so I asked him if we could walk together. I learned his name and where he lived so I offered him to come and play baseball with my friends and I later in the day. He smiled, and we parted ways, not knowing or meeting would be a blessing in disguise. We soon meet together with everyone in the field. Without knowing how my new friend would perform, I put him on first base. Impressively, he was better than we thought judging from his physical features. We continued meeting up as much as we could until my friends were his friends and encouraged him to join the highs school baseball team. I could see a change in him, he was a shadow of his former self. No longer would he keep his head down as he wandered through the town or walked to school. I sometimes wonder what made him behave that way and what he was doing the day I met him. After a long game, one day he approached me and asked me to take a walk with him. He began to stutter as he spoke to me. We went the same way we did the day I met him. He asked me if I had known why he was carrying the container. He said that he was cleaning out his locker and everything he owned in school because he was never going to return to school and didn't want his parents to come and clean out his stuff. I thought about this for a second. He was going to commit suicide. It was startling to think that everything would have ended for him if I had not spoken to him on that afternoon and invited him. It is unbelievable that one action can change everything for someone. Even a smile, a nod, or an invitation to a game. But none of that matters now because it was time for our biggest baseball game and we had to hit it out of the park.

German Munguia, 15 Manville High School Somerset County 9th Grade 144

A Rainbow Fading Away

I’ll never forget the first time he spoke to me. As I walked home in the rain, he stopped his car, asked me if I was alright or if I needed a ride. I'd seen him a lot of times before but that time felt different, as if the rain whispered to him to stop the car to finally talk to me. His eyes were shining like the reflection of the sun in a puddle as they looked into mine, even so, nervous like a rainbow fading away I said, "No, thank you, I'm fine."

Dana Sisakova, 17 Manville High School Somerset County 12th Grade

145

As I wander to your place for dinner

I can certainly comb my hair and yes, fine, I will shave my face. I will make myself look like I care and you can bet I'll keep the grace.

It's odd to think you can make me bathe, or control the urge to tip my seat. You know damn well you can make me behave and you know damn well you've got me beat

But who will I be when you say you're content? And how exactly will he be dressed? That monster you intend to invent— at least your mother might be impressed.

Whoever I will be, I think we both know, it won't be me.

Zach Spencer, 17 Manville High School Somerset County 11th Grade

146

Wait, That Isn't My Name

The gentle caressing of bodies cloaked in soft blankets, heats up the room. Oh, how I wish her soft ruby lips were gliding across my pale cheek to my mouth, with my fingertips stroking the sides ofher face. Hushed giggles and swishing movements under comforters fill this quiet room. I change channels on the TV to watch my favorite show, turn up the volume until the voices are faint, but audible. The glass screen glows with my favorite actress, on an episode I've already seen. The noises coming from the bed are now suppressed. At least now I'm not alone with my guilty thoughts.

Emily Walker, 18 Manville High School Somerset County 12th Grade

147

Assimilate

Chop off your rough tongue, take a cleaver to your ornate traditions, burn the stories of your ancestors, forget your language, embrace amnesia Adapt, adapt, adapt. Down a bottle of bleach, scorch the speech of your soul. Suffocate any thoughts that sneak up in a culture unlike your neighbor's. Bite on the inside of your cheeks, taste the rich iron on your tongue, grind down your milky white gates, feel the calcium wither away. Keep your mouth shut, out of fear that what voice finally escapes, will be anything but assimilation.

Your words will trickle out, accented by the echoes of generations of your people. In your broken syntax rings the hardships of your parents. Go on this way, speaking like ice cracking with the dawn of spring. The years will pass, the quaking of your spine will not.

The thoughts will come naturally in a language once foreign to you. You will look at the mirror and curse the generations before you. You will plead to the heavens, wish upon a star, make desperate attempts at demanding to be anything but who you are. You will reject your parents, embarrassed by their inability to reach normalcy. You will fail to understand their natural stubbornness, why they haven't broken in the shoes of Americanism. You will want to force change, you will push and thrust, and their rough tongues will whip back. You will grow weary and withdrawn before you come to understand, you are a child of split cultures. Your parents were the children of a foundation cemented with sticks and mud. Their souls are a mine of diamonds and gems. You will come to learn that broken English is another way of diminishing their once rich authenticity, they stand with pride, speak with Jove, and the only thing broken about them is the culture that shames their foreignism. You will glorify the dexterity in your parents' voices, their three tongues held in one mouth.

Victoria Wanjohi Manville High School Somerset County 11th Grade 148

Purnell SCHOOL

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

Men who forget to eat in moderation create a rhetorical uprising of confused thoughts, Questions unanswered, A man with breast bigger than my own is not required to wear a bra like a women in society, The potbelly pig snort laughs and remains interested while looking upon man with the firm roundness of his stomach as if he were pregnant, It is acceptable for a man to be shirtless, Questions unanswered, The process of a progress creates hard workers that need recess, Sometimes it is hard to express the leveled chance of success, It is a gamble, Either know what you are talking about or have pointless ramble, Elder women in the past chant with their men Free At Last, Yet equality is something still that lacks, It is a gamble, How was Trayvon Martin suppose to know he was not going home that night, It was a gamble, How was Eric Garner suppose to know that was the last time he was going to see his kids and wife, It was a gamble, You win some and you lose some, Life constantly taking life, Since the beginning of time there has been Male and Female, However votes are not required because if one asked for an opinion then one could give, Matthew Shepard judged by his sexuality and not by the good in his deeds, Standing ovation brought to the knee, . Life constantly taking life, Ignorance is what travels through the world, Money and power makes the world spin, Silent lack of understanding creates a sense of false pride in which one must not be caught unaware, In which one must KNOW it all and speech that false knowledge, However the vanity creates stupidity and ultimately is the equivalent of awkward silence and angry stares, Ignorance is what travels through the world, Too far too grown too caught up, Too far to give up now, Society has grown too much to give in now, In the race for equality we have caught up, The issue now is will we be able to pass to get to first place, Gardner 149

Game of cat and mouse, Run and chase, Turn around too quick injustice is knocking you in the face, You sit there dumbfounded thinking about those in the world pointlessly wounded, Trying to catch your breath without smelling the ' coercion and death', Just think how much the world has change, Obama has stated once, Yes We Can, And we will with the will that our past so powerfully urged through to us from the tunnel of time, Only with a few modifications, Do to the fact EVERYONE now can get their education from any situation migrated without hesitation, Within their own free will of course,

Deijah Gardner, 16 Purnell School Somerset County 11th Grade

150

When you left, did you tear the heart I plastered on my sleeve and take it with you? So that when asked about my love, I would be forced to say, "I don't love like you." Because that day you were kind enough to leave behind a few remnants of my heart threaded between the stitches of my sweater As if to say, "You can still love, but not this way." Sometimes I wonder if I could rewire the orbits in your eyes To make them see me for the first time again. But even so: You can wash your eyes with acid And through blotchy kaleidoscope lenses Still recognize the stain of my red lipstick.

……...

In kindergarten, I tried to trace a heart onto a sheet of bright green foam paper. Many times, My pencil would get caught in the elasticity of the material And the jerk of my hand created a break in the line. When I cut out my shape, my inexperience with scissors Led to jagged borders around my heart. Yet, when I marched up to my teacher, I displayed my creation with pride, saying, "Want to see my heart? This is what it looks like!" She stared and said, "Oh no, sweetie, hearts aren't green! Go try again!" I went back to the arts and crafts station, Only to find all of the red and pink paper were gone. I settled on taking a white piece and a pack of crayons. Though I had not yet learned how to draw, I just picked up the red and pink crayons And drew half of my heart in red, The other half in pink. This time, I approached my classmate, and said, With a little less confidence, "This is my heart. Do you like it?" She wrinkled up her nose And responded with, "Why is it like that? Hearts are only one color. You should know that." She reached behind her

Jarvis 151

And showed me hers. "This is what your heart should look like." I looked at the smooth curves that held insides Of one color, uninterrupted. I went back to my desk and threw my artwork down. I looked at the spiked shark teeth That surrounded my first heart And the blend of colors in my second heart, And I tore up these attempts, Resorting to printing out a picture instead.

Julia Jarvis, 18 Purnell School Somerset County 12th Grade

152

All Eyez on me

Ignorance is bliss apparently until, it's faced with a question of facts

Many people may not have known that black people were not the only slaves

There were white, Hispanic, European, Asian, and middle eastern slaves too

But we don't really hear much about them because apparently people have forgotten

When I was growing up I was called many name because I was never considered full black

We tease our Africans because they know their history and native language

And we tease our mixed kids because they can't "pick a side"

Many children still go through their lives with racist people saying they don't want them here

Now everyone think how would you feel if you were in their shoes

How would you feel?

Now everyone think of a word that you might of said or been called that offends a race as a Whole

Now think of something you said or were called that offend a religion as a whole

Now stop

"My president is black, in fact he's half-white, so even in a racist mind he's half right" as said by Jay-z Racism is fueled by ignorance and hatred

Racism is still here today flowing like a waterfall into the river we call our nation

We say that the USA is a big pot of diversity we act like there still isn't hate

This country was built on the back of other people that weren't European and didn't come here by choice or people that were already here that had their land taken away anyway Many people think that the races that keep dwelling on the past should just stop because that was the past but how can we just turn our backs on our history

On the struggles that mine and your may or may not have gone through?

How is that understandable? Nia Lewis, 14 Purnell School Somerset County 9th Grade 153

I like being better.

It is softer. Edges curved and I glide. The world is less harsh. I am no longer a serrated knife. Everyday afraid, of the next person I will obliterate. Other peoples words are no longer weapons . Because I know I am better. Not the very best, but better

A yes or a no, no longer sends my head spinning Because I've grown quite fond of maybe . It is soft.

Embracing the sunlight, My glassy eyes begin to melt into tears . I thought I would never stop. They said crying is healing, I said crying is weak Disgusted by my vulnerability.

I used to be a piece of glass. People watched me from a distance. Always afraid to get too close. Tip toeing around me . carefull! get to close i could shatter.

The phrase 'It's a healing process' used to sound like a death sentence. But now I see that it's just them saying to be patient. Lexi McDonald, 16 When each day is not as hard as the last, Purnell School I know Somerset County I am no longer a serrated knife. 11th Grade 154

Stable Instability

It is as if l am a scared to be the person that i am meant to be

That some how If i were to allow myself to grow into a functioning person the kind Who remembers to go to bed Who remembers to live and To breath and to continue on

If i were to do that I am just giving in.

To a form of submission that makes me shiver

Normalcy scares me

Ordinary makes me want to run.

The action of doing what you are supposed to do That is just ridiculous. in the ordinariness of life is something i fear to be struck with the life i which most people just go about living.

If i where to live a life like that i might just drown myself in the bowl of my soy milk drowned cereal to have to get up everyday, to go to school and everyday see the same friends McDonald 155 have the same conversations normal people do

Not worth living, if you ask me.

I thrive on all my instabilities It is a bit exhausting at times. But I want to live like

Lexi McDonald, 16 Purnell School Somerset County 11th Grade

Artwork: Michella Wayne, 17 Bound Brook High School Somerset County 12th Grade 156

Never ever forget

When I got up from my dream I saw something gold on my bed I jumped down from my bed and the new day was beginning I ate breakfast with my friend and everything look normally I ate bread and drunk soup and tried to use a wonderful mood to start a new day Everything was normal Everything was perfect And we all couldn't imagine how special and terrible that day was

2 We had classes like normal We did everything like natural I tried to pay attention towhat teachers say And tried to be a wonderful student in that day Everyday I told to myselfToday is a new day You must behave perfectAnd in that day I said those sentences to myself too But how?How can I behave as a lovely girl and a nice studentln that year I was ten years old

3 After we ate lunch we went to a swimming pool by school bus I am good at swimming And we all felt happy to have swimming class We changed clothes and jumped in the swimming pool We swam in the water and we all feel happy and relax At 14:28:04 Everything in there just kept going on

Tian 157

Some people smiled Some people swam Some people talked But we all didn't know There was a big event happened At that moment in another city Some people died Some people cried Some people yelled

4 We came back to school after we finished We all felt tired and we all slept deeply on the bus I didn't know what happened But I heard something happened from my teacher After dinner we watched TV and watched the news There is a earthquake in Wenchuan…... Big news about the earthquake on the TV We all stopped what we were doing in that time We all stared at it

5 At that time We were scared At that time We cannot believe the truth At that time We wanted to know more I was just ten years old The earthquake let me feel the world is dangerous I was really worried Maybe one day There will be an earthquake where I live And maybe one night as I sleep next morning I'm in the heaven After the earthquake happened Many people died Many children lose their parents Many parents lose their children Forever Jessica (Yunuo) Tian, 16 I will never forget Purnell School what happened in that day Somerset County

11th Grade 158

SOMERSET COUNTY CULTURAL & HERITAGE COMMISSION

Robert Bouwman, President Tom Buckingham, Vice President Ann Osterdale Rosenblum, Secretary Phyllis Fittipaldi, Treasurer Donald N. Esposito Mark A. Else Phyllis Konen H. Kels Swan Kathy Faulks

Patricia McGarry, SCC&HC Manager Thomas R. D’Amico, AICP/PP, Historic Sites Coordinator Kaitlin Bundy, Programs Coordinator Cathy Bunting, Administrative Assistant

SOMERSET COUNTY BOARD OF CHOSEN FREEHOLDERS

Mark Caliguire, Freeholder Director Patricia L. Walsh, Freeholder Deputy Director Peter S. Palmer, Freeholder Patrick Scaglione, Freeholder Brian D. Levine, Freeholder

Patricia A. Walsh, Freeholder Liaison to the Cultural & Heritage Commission

Kaitlin Bundy, Somerset County Teen Arts Coordinator

This program is made possible in part by funds from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.

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