ina Special Thanks to:

Ms. Flores, advisor & Ms. Flores’s Critical Analysis Class (Period 5)! Idea Magazine 2013 Staff:

Editor-In-Chief General Members

Edward Ou Adam Chen JiaCheng Xian Managing Editor Edwin Tan Linda Ly Michelle Wang

Proofreading Editor Haoxin Hu

Celina Chang Emma Chou

Emily Lui President Elaine Cheung Sharon Tang Lydia Xie Vice President Gary Huang Rachel Tang Tiffany Szeto Treasurer Tiffany Lin Jimmy Tran Cecilia Mak Secretary Helen Wang Tevin Bui Mary Zhu

Tin Lee

Vinh Lu

Front Cover art by Xiu Wu “The Phoenix”

Back Cover art by Alisha Mah “You are Not Alone”

In Loving Memory of Esther Suen

“This magazine is dedicated to our fellow Aztec, Esther Suen. High school is a place where students work with one another. Whether it is in the classroom, the gym, or the crowded hallways, each individual contributes to a unified whole - to the Mark Keppel society. It is in this Mark Keppel High School that we have the opportunity to learn about the miracles of friendship. The Idea Magazine Staff gives it’s thanks to all those who generously contributed to this magazine. We hope you enjoy the outstanding works of art and literature.” -Celina Chang

A bright smile, a chipper face to brighten our days, and everyone's little ball of sunshine. Your intention, to bring sweet, simple joy. You were a girl who never gave up, and never backed down A resilient soul who never failed to rise from the ashes While your physical presence is no longer with us You will live on forever, in our memories and in our hearts Your friendship cherished and missed, the memories you've given us, never forgotten We all miss you to the moon and back, and then some and we all feel blessed to have had privilege to know you Rest in peace fellow Aztec Know your legacy will remain intact, forever and always. -Adam Elkharbotly

Editor’s Note:

Thank you everyone for submitting your artworks, poems, short stories, and photographs! This year’s submissions were all very amazing and fun to read. We are very grateful for allowing us to display your talented works for everyone to see. We can tell that every submission took a great amount of effort and you guys poured your heart into it. Special thanks Ms. Flores for being an amazing AP English and Critical Analysis teacher! Again, thank you so much everyone!

- Edward Ou and Linda Ly

Waking Up is the Hardest Part

by Reyna King

Diploma in hand, Sweaty palm and a firm shake, Obligatory cheers, And a fluttering stomachache.

I sit back down,

Obscured by myriad names and faces, To close my eyes and reflect, On memories with those adjacent.

The summer air is bittersweet,

With a paltry hint of floral. Flashes, moments captured, To reminisce tomorrow.

People I know, Become, people I knew. To my friends, my enemies: I bid you, adieu.

For it is time to go home, Where you patiently await. My love, my best friend, My perpetual running mate.

You engulf me with warmth, Soothing away my sorrow. But it still saddens me, friend, For I leave you tomorrow.

The yellow sun emerges. Bags packed, I take to the sky. As I step foot into my dorm, I whisper my final goodbye. Artwork by Cindy Hu Black night pervades the horizon, I lay awake, a single tear shed. For in this new life I have, I long only for you, my home-bound bed.

To Rise E arly morning wake up S wimming in a blue sea of people Touching lives with prayer Hiking for nature’s beauty Enthusing genuine wholesomeness Reverence

Seeing reassurance in departure Unifying a broken community Exhibiting the strength to move forward Now a golden Phoenix soaring from ashes - Elaine Cheung

Begin Again

Sunset, Sunrise The sky is filled with clouds of sighs “Mythical Phoenix” by Mary Zhu A sunflower bright and best Withered away from the rest The entire field mourned with drips of dew A day only ends so it can begin with a new -Karen Ha

Beautiful Smile Every day you turn around My whole day brightens up When the sky is still dark Your face lights up the room The wonderful gift of your smile Gives me hope and happiness The sound of your laugh Is like a sweet melody I always long to see your smile When the clouds roll in my life When I see your smile brightening up the world I wonder if you know how beautiful you really are

-Megan Lee

Artwork by Edwin Ew Jong

“They work day by day, side by side next to each other. They work through sweat, tears, and millions of bruises. Yet, they end up with victories, smiles, and just goodness. They rely on each other. They yell at each other. They laugh at each other. They support each other. Together, they form a bond, a bond called friendship. And even when, humiliating times come, where they suffer loss after loss, in the end, it doesn’t matter who has the ball. We rise above the ashes, like a phoenix, and keep our head up for the next day.” - Stacie Lee

Artwork by Vivy Li

Lost By: Eman Al-alami

There's only so much you can do With the weight on your side What defines my difference, as simple as a letter in my name I was grown in the colors of red, white and blue What there should be and who I should be What happens to the other part of me?

Was I split in half where one part was left alone The other for other to feed and control? Who is there to follow, when all of society is headed for the same tree? Who’s lost? Society or me? Everyone believes one, another are hallucinating It isn't about blaming one another But it's to step up and fight for a right

We're all on our own, but the only way to know where to go is to question every step on a road What's not known is worth knowing Don't let the love of life clutter in your mind Be free and control your life

“Sail to Unity” by Victor Lau

The Wind The wind is blowing coldly Maybe because we are empty The beloved have left us in a shock Only time can help hearts unlock Wind will blow The wind is blowing coldly the rain and snow Is it the start of rain so boldly for coming months will show Each drop is a tear of sadness a sunshine not ever known. May we hope this is not madness -Oscar Bucio The wind is blowing coldly

Our eyes are watching slowly The tissues glued to our eyes Have excused our tears to dry The wind is finally at peace - Winny Ton

"Miracles May" by Emma Luu

"Dogs" by Janice Hong

WHERE Each day the sun sets Where are you right now? In its place, the moon rises My friend, are you having fun? I will come join you. And so it will be -Reanna Liaw - Tiffany Chen

Colors by: Eman Al-alami Transform from one another White to purple Red to pink Blue to green It's happening in a world unseen The sun's everlasting painting I'll capture the moment forever, With a click, the light drew the memory for all time

There's colors that transcend day and night Or the time of year, Day in a life What you see is for yourself What I see isn't for me Rather, all of you

Photograph taken by Kaci Kobayashi

I have peers of six best friends Tight as family

Share secrets Heart to heart conversations Umbrella Friendship is a word for strength It was a particularly rainy day They are good listeners Each drip of rain washed me away Life mentors Drowning in darkness with no one there Good companies I felt like living in an endless nightmare Close sisters As I walked, I can see the light right before me Excellent advisors Then a hand holding an umbrella was all I could see Nice comforters I never thought someone would care Friendship is a word for strength But I guess some people are always going to be there

Friendship is a small thing -Karen Ha But the meaning behind it is far more Treasure it Appreciate it Never forget it

By: Michelle Huang

Artwork by Selin Louie Artwork by Oscar Bucio

Friend Whenever you feel troubled Whenever you feel down Don’t you worry, I’ll be there To turn around your frown

Whenever you no longer feel strong It seems like you can no longer hold on Don’t you cry, I’ll be there To catch you when you fall

When things just won’t go right And you need a shoulder to cry on Wipe your tears and call me up “Earthly Phoenix” by Mary Zhu I’ll come running to your side

Always remember you got a friend I’ll be there for you any day I’ll always love you my good friend Today, Tomorrow, forever and always

- Lisa Dip life after life

death is merely when one has lost his way and found an unlocked door that opens to both his past and future.

the present cannot enter.

once the door closes, life has just begun. - Anonymous

“Sun Phoenix” by Karen Ho “A girl's best friend is not always a diamond” Jacquelyn Luong

The Cat Cycle Take your time to choose Let it roam around like the animal it is Walk in the dirty alley Or let it become the person he's forced to be Find the clean cat Either way, this is no winning situation Help him out Take him home Also, the cat must make the final decision He is in constant search for the friend Have the cat mold with you Meaning that he will always prefer the dirty Play with you alley Sleep with you Rotting with a human doesn't seem ideal Eat with you However, the cycle will repeat Now you're friends The cat will still look for a friend Everything feels good It doesn't matter if it's the same person But there is only one problem.... Or the same cat The cat can't stay with you The cat cycle is never ending And it can't stay at home -Anonymous It must walk in the alley again

Trapped in Misery

Shall I compare myself to misery? “Phoenix” (inspired by Fahrenheit 451 by Ray For I have been through many sufferings. Bradbury and the Book of Ecclesiastes from the Bible)

The disappointments in my history, Phoenix, Has brought me to tell thee the happenings. Tell me of your purple-red and gold I always thought he was like Hercules, and why you rise up from the ashes, Both strong and brave as anyone could be, New, reborn, and resurrected from the Protecting me from harmful injuries, fiery flames; Our family’s loved patriarch was he.

Until one chilly summer afternoon, Tell me of the hope you bring, He was found sleeping next to gravely oh shining light, the rising sun; Death,

With the corners of his lips in maroon, Lead me to the river where the tree of And sucked cleanly away was his warm life takes root, breath. and let me eat of its life-giving fruit

and touch its healing leaves;

Shall he be someone thou will always love? For to everything there is a season, For he will always be with me above. to everything a time;

A time to break down, and a time to -Anonymous build up, a time to keep silence and a time to

speak;

Friends There is nothing new under the sun.

The ones that love you are your friends

On whom you can always depend - Margaret Yu

That when all others leave

You had better believe

That they will be there til the end

- Thomas Chan Our Hands

Lonely, dark days

Young, bright nights

Your hands reach out

While mine follow forth

Each day our hands Does their own tasks But when all is done They reunite into one

Yours thick with work And mine thin with school But in the end Our hands reaches home

Twenty-four hours a day, Seven days a week Our hands speak to each other Through silent words of speech

Darling and Babe Has gone through the day Under Friday Night lights, Artwork by Veronica Lopez Our hands will meet

- Lewen Ma

“Esther Suen” (above) “Winged” (below) By Kimberly Au It is everywhere,

It can change a person,

It can make you happy,

It can make you sad,

It can last a lifetime,

It is what makes us special,

It shapes into who we are today,

Friendship.

- Kyler Lee

Drawing by Josephine Young

Photo by Sharon Tang

Drawing by

Josephine Young (Top)

Drawing by Jessica Lu (Left) When you feel broken inside, Torn to a million pieces, Burned and smoldered into nothing Lost but dust, Circling around the new facts, Look deep within Into the heavens. going nowhere, stopped in these tracks. Search your soul So lost now, don’t know where to go. Scan the sky For the warm star that is always Asking why…? And losing hope. there. Rewinding time to visit you, Spun from the deepest wishes, Woven from the darkest pain, how much you meant to me, I wish you knew. And mastered from the truest Holding on, but reality takes me back, passions, Search for the shining beacon of light, to a world now turned gray and black. Hope. Trying to find my way through the sorrows and - Andrew Chou grieves Embedded at every corner and across the street.

A dim light, gleams so far away,

almost too small to even faze.

My feet already step towards it,

but my heart cannot yet commit.

Though still skeptical, I pick up my pace

because I know I’m headed the right way.

- Tiffany Tsou

Drawing by Amanda Thai

"Highschool Girls Worry" by Kimberly Au

Ropes

The ends are tied, Unlike a cliff,

Causing a bond between the two There is no broken edge.

And connecting with each other. It is a never-ending path up

Forming knots, Towards comfort and happiness. difficult to untangle, This is our friendship.

Are filled with struggles -Teresa tan

Intertwined with each other.

It is sturdy, ready to be climbed,

To reach an endless point. Poem of Friendship

By Connie Zheng

Starting out as strangers Then getting into dangers The two become close But will turn into foes

Through the ups and downs And watching the other breakdown Begins a new bond That is newly spawned

When all else fails Soon comes the betrayal Both will depart And will forever drift apart

Photo taken by Evelyn Yau (Above) Photo taken by Michael Vieyra (Left)

The Oceans of Life

Swimming. When I look through the crowds of our school. Love, laughter, joy, indifference, frustration, happiness Hatred, loneliness, solitude. Who is true to themselves?

Friendship The same. Friends are people who love you no In a local pet store Looking through the glass matter what Glimmering, shimmering fish

Remember you when no one else They are just like people, these fish seems to care They are all swimming, trying to stay alive, trying to get ahead. Inherently cares about your well- Goldfish. They all look the same, they are all orange and scaly being but if you look closely you can see Endlessly show their consideration Each one is actually different. Together. and support

Never talk behind your back Some fish are beautiful, brilliant, shining Don’t care what you wear or look You say to yourself, “I would like to be that one” Others are only half breathing like Hanging on to the strands of life that God has given them. They are all tired of swimming Someone who you can trust throughout your life Day after day -Lisa Fong They never stop They have to keep swimming Never give up -Taylor Kim Friends For Eternity You whisper something in my ear

Oh what's that tell me much much louder I look at you Before I know it, you're shushing me And smile in my head Hoping your momma didn't hear it Laughing out loud All over again I can't imagine my life without you For the millionth time You're something do special Over the smallest things And something so true All I know is you were there for me * I can't imagine my life without you You're something do special Time flies by And something so true Moving so fast I can count on you Chorus: To make it last

You make everything complete * You mean so much to me And my day just gets better Friends for eternity Everytime that we meet Yeah we're crazy together Connie Bahng But through it all * Repeat Chorus I don't regret one thing cause I know We were destined to be Friends for eternity

Photos taken by Paul Lin (Left) and Kathy Fong (Above) True Friends

True friends are one in a million.

True friends have stories to share.

True friends know the path to happiness, and they walk with you all the way there.

True friends are lives overlapping.

True friends share laughter and tears. True friends bring emotions so deep that the trust keeps growing over the years.

- Kristin Masada

Drawing by Christine Lee “Trapped in Misery” Progressing Life Once a hyper-energetic young toddler, Shall I compare myself to misery? For I have been through many sufferings. Playing on the sandy playground,

The disappointments in my history, Meeting other youthful strangers,

Has brought me to tell thee the happenings. Building a sense of confidence,

Developing a bond,

I always thought he was like Hercules, Enjoying every single day.

Both strong and brave as anyone could be, Now, a slow, tired student,

Protecting me from harmful injuries, Seeking no more for new bonds, Fading of the memories, Our family’s loved patriarch was he. Feeling a sense of loss with time and with youth,

Enjoying only Sunday, Until one chilly summer afternoon, A day of rest, He was found sleeping next to gravely Death, A day of bonding, With the corners of his lips in maroon, A day of resurrection. And sucked cleanly away was his warm breath. So far in life,

Constantly learning new concepts and teachings. Shall he be someone thou will always love? Onesimus Chan For he will always be with me above.

~Anonymous

Photos Taken by Tina Wu Friendship

Friends are people who love you no matter what

Remember you when no one else seems to care

Inherently cares about your well-being

Endlessly show their consideration and support

Never talk behind your back

Don’t care what you wear or look like

Someone who you can trust throughout your life

-Lisa Fong

Photo Taken by Gabirel Hatem

Change Is Sometimes for the Best Over the years we have changed so much. We are exact opposites; Yet, we manage to stay together. People see our differences and wonder “how can they be friends”. They do not understand the bond we share. This bond, built on trust and love, grows stronger with every adversity we face. With this bond we are inseparable. As time goes on and people go their separate ways, We will remain friends until the end. We will continue to change, But it is our very differences that make our friendship work.

Aurora Dolorfino

“Nature's joy” by Megan Lee

"We're All in This Together" by Leanna Rongavilla

“Flowers of Friendship” by Helen Wang A friendship is an unparalleled bond, an unmatched love, a mutual respect between individuals.

A friend is someone who will get you that extra roll of toilet paper while you’re sitting on the toilet, someone who will catch a fish out of the water if you want sushi.

A friend is someone who has your back at all times, someone who will take off their pants and give them to you so you don't look stupid in your underwear.

A friend is someone who will help you look for your shadow in the dark, someone who will help you find that rock you threw in the ocean.

A friend is someone who will tell you that:

A boy can love his pop, a pig can love his slop. A man can love a woman to the end. But when all is said and done, there is no better love than one. It's the love between a person and their friend - Garrison Wong

The "Ware" & Tear of basketball -Eric Vodicska

Forget-Me-Not

He is who created you

You had many friendships

Definitely more than two

Giving helpful tips

So very bright

Swam like a superstar

Full of delight

So very nice you are

Then the fall came

Tears were shed

This was an unfair game

Only a little bump on your head

This is not the end, Esther Suen

We will see you once again

Jessica Do

Photo Taken by Sandy Hong Cave by:Eman Al-alami

I wish to stay in my own cave, hear the Minds echoes of only myself playing, yelling, my by: Eman Al-alami mind evoking the air, to bring creatures in the place. It's all in your mind My mind creating he creatures, the scene.. it makes you confess to anther's life I don’t want to hear the others around me we must have lost the road somehow might have broke the hermits shell To be inspired by what comes around me, to keep growing into something bigger and What answer to your question? bigger It's all wheels within wheels. The hurricane wined, wants to control and you can't see what's beneath the other. take me... thinks its own higher being Are you walking in your silly season? I'll draw pictures with the rocks or my own I lost the book with the chaotic stories, pictures, that imagines only in a few minds, blood, at least therefore it's got a soul What if all the minds came across the same idea of its own together? No one got the right to tell when enough is Would they seize the moment, enough or fight for whose the first who thought it? using the though, for it to spiral on and on. Let's all create a phenomenal

Dear Friend, and special friendships too

You cannot fathom I know now I won't be seeing you the love I had for you. each and everyday You always gave compassion Through all the years of hardship to everyone you knew we always found a way You heart was full of kindness You wished to travel the world your soul was filled with peace and always wished you could fly Your faith could not be shaken Never one day your light will never cease did I wish you would die. Your joy flowed like a fountain God took you to His mansion refreshing everyday. what rejoicing there must be so clean, so pure, so simple when He took away your cancer like rain that falls in May and He set your spirit free. Your smile was like the sunshine -Carrie Couch as fresh as any flower A heart as big as Texas as steady as a tower You praised God for each hour for each and everyday You lived life to its fullness and took the time to pray So many acts of kindness you spread throughout the year A hug was always waiting for those that you held dear. Unending love for family

Painting by Cecilia Mak

Photos Taken by Alec Hirang Short Story by Angel Gunawan & Priscilla Hong

She walked into the dreary gray building and hesitantly entered the lounge room. The young girl’s defiant face peered at the boy, who was sitting on one of the comfortable velvet chair in the back room, waiting for her. The boy was too deep in thought to notice the girl walking in front of him. He felt exhausted when he thought about the tutoring session because of her short temper. He hated her. He hated the phony ‘hi’ she would say everyday and her annoying smile that she sneered at him all the time. She glared at him as she set her books on the table. The boy glanced at her as he finally noticed her, then he stood up and walked to her. The girl was filled with immense hatred as she remembered the times he kept yelling at her when she couldn’t understand Calculus. No matter how much he tried to explain limits to her, she could not grasp the concept, which ignited fights and arguments between them. She couldn't understand why some graphs has asymptotes but still had a limit, while he didn’t understand why he couldn’t explain limits to her. He once remarked that the fights between them would never end as graphs with vertical asymptotes would never touch each other. “ Nathan, I don’t think I’ll even pass chapter 1 in this book. The test is next week. You have to help me get through limits.” “ It’s not my fault you’re so dumb,” he blatantly replied, smirking. She slammed the table,” Nathan Wang! What kind of tutor are you?!!” “ The kind of tutor who only respects smart people.” “ What do you mean? I am smart!” She glared at him. “ Just continue from yesterday.” Suddenly, a girl with make-up loaded on her face peeped in through the door. She ran to Nathan and squealed in a very sassy voice,” Nathan! I love your shirt color! It illuminates your beauty! This is why we are always childhood buddies! We always match each other; looks, color, brains, everything! Too bad we’re aren’t together. People would have admired us.” “ I don’t like being admired. And besides, I’d be the one worsening the looks if we were in a relationship.” “True... True... Oh! What are you doing here Jesslyn?” she sneered. “ I’m here getting tutored, Jessica. What are you doing here?” Jesslyn rolled her eyes. Just then one of Jesslyn’s friend walked in, “ Hey, hey, hey, Jesslyn! Where has the time gone by? I’ve got flowers just for you!” He jumped in front of the door and walked toward Jesslyn with pure joy and pride. Nathan drank water to prepare for the next equation. Shocked by the flowers, the boy prepared to give to Jesslyn, Nathan accidentally spit his water on the flowers. “ What in the world? For this girl? Wow Jason, you have a bad taste of women!” “ Oh my God! My flowers! What do you think you’re doing spitting on my flowers? Dude, she’s just a childhood friend okay? You don’t have to treat her so bad,” Jason cried. “It’s okay. He’s always been like that to me. I’m used to it,” Jesslyn commented to calm him down. “ Let’s go to the Beach yeah?” Jason suddenly exclaimed. Nathan felt a pang of jealousy. “ She can’t go to the beach, she needs to study.” Jesslyn groaned,” I need to clear my head. Just come too and tutor me there!” “ Yeah Nathan! I need a tan anyways!” Jessica chittered. “ Fine, let’s go,” Nathan sighed. ------“ Wow! The water is so clear!” Jesslyn gasped, “ Let’s go in to play!” “ Uh, I’ll stay on the shore,” Nathan refused and sat on the sand. “ No! Nathan you have to go in the water with me ! It will be way more fun than splashing in the water with these ugly losers,” Jessica complained. “ You are so superficial!” Jesslyn shouted, “ Jason and I will just play.” Jessica dragged Nathan into the water, “ Let’s go deeper!” “No, no, no... “ Nathan struggled against Jessica but the more he fought her the further the current pushed him. The water was high over his head now and couldn’t break the surface. The water pushed him under, and he felt himself sinking slowly. He was trying to raise his arms and grab on to something but it was useless. Jessica swam over to where Jesslyn and Jason were. “ Wait, where’s Nathan?” Jesslyn exclaimed. “ Oh, he’s just caught in the current over there. He’ll get himself back up again, there’s nothing to worry about,” Jessica said carelessly. “ Well, did you know he can’t swim?” Jesslyn cried. “ Oh, oops! Go save him!” Jessica shrugged. Without hesitating, Jesslyn ran as fast as she could towards the ocean. Her heart pounded by her worry for Nathan’s life. She was so afraid she wasn’t going to make it. All those mean things she had said to him meant nothing at all. His life and his presence was all it mattered. As she nearly reached the water, she saw his body sinking slowly. Jesslyn swam towards him and caught his arm. Slowly, she led and dragged to him to the sand. She gasped and breathed heavily. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is everything okay?” Jesslyn asked anxiously.. “Yeah. I thought you had Jason. You shouldn’t have saved me.” “Shhhh. Look at the horizon. It’s so pretty isn’t it? Finally we get to meet,” Jesslyn smiled. “ What do you mean?” “ I just remembered. The only way the infinite graphs of limits can meet is if has a horizontal asymptote.” Nathan looked at her and chuckled.”Now you understand the concept?!” She grinned and laughed. “ I understand because you’re the only one that keeps trying to help me. Our relationship was what we needed to solve. And finally, we get to meet.”

Moral of the story: A friendship doesn’t always have to start out great and pretenses do not build a friendship. What feeds friendship is endurance, care, and mutual trust. In addition, don’t judge a person by appearance, but by the inner qualities the person possess.

Artwork by Slyvia Thong

“Bleeding Color into Tomorrow” by Annette Cai

She was six when she died the first time.

She didn’t remember much of it—only the blinding light, and the explosion, and the split moment of pain. Then, it numbed, and everything was dark—pitch-black—and eerily quiet, as if time had paused and the world had stopped spinning. She woke up a ghost, a creature with a deep chasm in her chest, going through the mundane motions of a human being. She was void of feelings and void of life, living it as if it were a cup of insipid coffee, letting it stay bland and colorless. She was a lonely soul floating amongst crowds of laughing people loving and hating, smiling and crying, living and dying. And she didn’t belong—she knew she didn’t belong—for she was dead, for she couldn’t live. She couldn’t feel, she couldn’t love, and she couldn’t hate. She did not know how it felt to smile and how it felt to cry—she could barely remember how it felt to live. She could only remember the hushed whispers and judging eyes from the back of the classroom, and the rough brushes from those walking past her, not sparing her another glance, not paying her any attention, acting as if she didn’t exist—as if she wasn’t human.

And she could only hang her head and stare at the tiny cracks in the grey pavement, watching them blur in her sight. She didn’t exist. Not in the eyes of those that were living. She was a ghost, a mere apparition in the room that could be ignored and forgotten. A black and white shadow hiding in a long abandoned corner in a world of color.

Then, when six years passed—or maybe five, for time meant nothing to a dead person—and she was a young adult with the weary eyes of an old woman, he walked up to her. He stretched out his hand, eyes warm and homely. And when she didn’t respond, he bestowed upon her one of those unfamiliarly genuine smiles and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. He picked up her schoolbooks and her burdens, his soft voice drenching the quiet, comforting words that floated between the two of them, promising her of tomorrow and of living. The spring breeze was cool, with hints of warmth and happiness, and as she watched him walk away, she felt something drop into the empty crevasse in her chest, the place where her heart should’ve been. And for the first time since she was six, she felt something tug at the side of her lips, and it was when she walking to the house she called home, hugging her books to her chest, that she finally tasted the essence of life again.

She woke up a teenage girl lost in the colorful world of whirlwind feelings and unfamiliar pulls at her heartstrings.

She lived life simply, taking in the lightest, palest hues of all colors, not daring to wish for more, for she was afraid that she was coveting something that wasn’t hers. She was afraid that one day, she would be punished, having everything she was finally seeing ripped from her grasp and having her barely mended heart torn out of her chest. It was a heart mended with much duct tape and stitches and patches, and it was easily overwhelmed by the tumultuous waves of human feelings. But for once in her existence, she felt that it was a necessity. Every day, as she lay in her bed counting the stars outside her window that peaked in through the gap of her curtains, she would add another piece to her heart, slowly filling up the empty void.

She wasn’t a ghost anymore. She stopped floating past people, barely tickling their lives with her presence. She had descended into the lives of a boy and a girl, and she became a part of them, occupying her own chamber in their hearts. She filled up their minds with trivia about herself, like her favorite color, and how she liked classical music on guitar, and how she couldn’t stomach coffee in the morning. Likewise, they showered her life with brilliant smiles that lit up her pale world. Friendship was sweet. She was happy.

She was happy, because it had been a long time since she’d lived. Living was refreshing, each day different from the last as a rainbow of feelings sped into her life and skidded to a stop in her heart.

But living was also hard. It was like a speeding train with old, rusty brakes, hurtling towards a light that was a mere vision of the subconscious. It raced against time, and she often found herself drifting along the line of life and death. She would wake up at two in the morning, having fallen asleep on last night’s homework, and for a disconcerting moment, she would forget whether or not she was living. For a terrifying and awfully prolonged second, the emptiness of death would seep back into her, and she could almost feel a hand grabbing at her heart, threatening to rip it away from her. But the moment would pass, because she would remember him and she would remember her, and she would remember that she was still alive. She knew that the living never live forever and that there will come a time when Death would loom ahead. He would be wearing the visage of an old friend, but waiting with a sneer under the mask, ready to take away one’s existence and one’s everything.

She was eighteen when she died for the second time. It was sudden and unexpected, but it was nothing like the explosion she had experienced when she was younger. It was more of a slow burn, a building fire. It was like a slow- acting poison, ebbing through her body in minutes that felt like years. And at the last second, right before it was going to shut down all her organs, the pain would escalate and crash into her, stealing her breath away as she tries to gasp for air for the last time.

It was different this time. She didn’t disappear; she was too engraved in her friends’ lives to disperse completely. So she tried to keep smiling for them, tried to pretend that she was still living. But they knew she was dying, or perhaps already dead, and something within them withered away as well. With each forced smile and false lie, something broke off on that brittle bond that held the three of them together, and a little bit of vibrance faded from the colors painting her world. The wait for the inevitable end seemed almost too long and much too suffocating. She didn’t suffer alone, because they were drowning with her, but that didn’t make the pain any less. Instead, it seemed to intensify it, making the burn a thousand times more poisonous, a thousand times more deadly.

Then, one day, he left.

She knew he was going to leave, because everyone leaves in the end. Everyone boards the last train that takes them into the horizon, and no one ever looks back. No one stays forever, because staying takes patience and tears, and sometimes, leaving was the easiest choice. But he didn’t leave because he wanted to, but because he had to, and she remembered the sad, dismal smile he had granted her as he gripped her hand for the last time. It was reminiscent of the first time he had smiled at her, but nowhere near as bright, nowhere near as happy, and nowhere near as innocent. Maybe all of them had learned a little more about living and staying.

The last time she saw her was when they sent him off. It was a somber affair with many farewells and many tears. Crumpled tissues and flower petals littered the floor as the two of them trudged through the small garden. It was a silent goodbye between the two as they held each other. Countless words were left unspoken but known, and as she pulled away, she knew somewhere in her broken heart that the lingering warmth she felt would soon become a timeworn photograph of old memories. As she watched her walk away, she felt the weak tape holding the pieces of her life together fall off, and her heart crumbled to pieces again. That was the moment the poison had spread completely, eating away every tissue of her feelings. The last spurt of air never entered her lungs, and she fell through the arch of life and death again, watching the monochromatic world around her collapse. She closed her eyes as she let go.

Death was harder this time, because she had already experienced the pleasures of life, and she yearned for it, despite the harsh, cold winters that came with it. But she couldn’t do anything about it, because living was hard, and she couldn’t do it alone. Yet, she was very much alone, just like the first time, and she accepted that. She busied herself with the trivial matters of the living, playing make-believe and fooling others into thinking that she was alive. No one ever saw the invisible tears that dripped from her chin whenever it was too hard watching others live and wanting so much to live like them. Bounded by the chains of death and a tired, shattered heart, she could only cradle the pain like a fragile vial.

But one day, someone noticed.

Someone noticed that she wasn’t living, that she was broken, that the strings that once held her together had snapped. Someone noticed her fake smiles and the tears that were so often shed and hid. Someone noticed the pain that plagued her like the shadow when the sun was directly overhead.

He tried to fix her. With slow, unsteady hands, he carefully applied glue to the broken pieces that made up her heart, and stuck them together. It was a clumsy piece of work, painted carnelian to mask the millions of tiny cracks, but it didn’t matter. It was the amount of care he put into piecing her back together that perhaps touched God himself, and He decided to let a drop of life drip back into her.

And then, suddenly, the world was bursting with color.

“Capture” by Cindy Hu escape from this meaningless reality and I have found it in the form of the world The Journey of Darkness of fantasy, explored through movies, by Anonymous novels, etc. Those worlds seem to have meaning in them. Prologue Greetings, reader. I am known as the Mage of Darkness. The final battle is Year 4 approaching and the fate of humanity Somehow, a few people actually rests upon its outcome. Listen to my approached me in hopes of getting to story…..before we run out of time. know me better. They were not afraid of me. Also, they have unique powers too. We are actually friends now. The pain Year 1 within me……it has decreased to a From as far back as I could remember, I minor burn. I feel happier. have had the power to control darkness. Unfortunately, a side-effect causes me to continuously emit an aura of despair. Year 5 That, combined with my social It seems magic is not merely contained awkwardness, caused people to avoid within fantasy. It is real. Forces of evil me, leaving me in solitude. My parents have arrived. My friends and I have provided me with the basic needs for stepped forward to face this threat. survival, but did not interact with me often. I feel lonely…..so terribly lonely. Year 6 A friend of mine was killed by another Year 2 one of my friends. I don’t believe it. My time in solitude allowed me ample How could this have happened? Are time to think about various things, the bonds of friendships really so fragile? Are foremost being the purpose of my people innately evil? He won’t get away existence. What is the meaning of life? with this…..I will make sure of that. Why do I exist? From what I can see, life is quite systematic and plain. People go to school to obtain the knowledge that is the basis for work. Later on in life, they Year 7 work, make money, eat, and sleep. Is I spared my friend’s life. I found out that that all there is to life? Do we exist only my traitorous friend killed my other for such material pleasures? I refuse to friend for revenge since my other friend believe so. Currently, I see no meaning stole his money. However, I also found in life. out that my other friend stole his money to feed his poor family since my traitorous friend refused to loan him Year 3 money. I see…...within this world exists It is quite difficult living without seeing a cycle of hatred. Bad conditions lead to the purpose of it. I need a form of ill intent, which begets hatred. That hatred, in turn, breeds more hatred. My as I have hope, they will never truly be goal…..is to break this cycle of hatred gone. Besides, they aren’t dead in the and bring peace to this world. first place. They continue to live on within my heart. Our memories together…..our friendship……they are Year 8 eternally carved onto my soul. They will Almost all of my friends…..dead. They continue to be with me as I walk met their end in the face of the forces of towards the future. Now then, it is time evil. However, their sacrifices will not be for the final battle. I will show in vain. Their accomplishments have them…..the true power of darkness. helped our allied forces against the enemy forces. Though I am sad, I shall move on in life. After all, they would Epilogue not want me to remain like this. I am Suffice to say, we won. The forces of evil sure that we will meet again. I don’t were vanquished. After uniting together have any concrete evidence, but I have to face a common evil, the various hope. Hope that there is an afterlife. countries in the world have signed That hope is what drives me to move on permanent alliance treaties with each in life and to move past sorrow. As long other. The world is finally at peace.

“In Search of Everything Lost” by Chaney Tse

Tuesday – ______, 20__

Two madeleines and a nice cup of Pu’er tea, Jonathan Aberman’s daily afternoon refreshment. If Jonathan Aberman had been an avid reader, he would’ve noticed something uncannily Proustian about his choice of snack. But Jon wasn’t an avid reader, and chances were he would’ve never noticed even if he were acquainted with Proust’s writings. There were other things of greater concern for a middle-class postman in his mid-thirties than the stuffy manuscripts, numbering in the thousands of pages, of some century-old French novelist who hid the fact he preferred the company of counts to that of countesses.

Of course, even these other “things of greater concern” would seem trivial to another man with the most pedestrian of middle-class lifestyles. For what could be exciting in the life of a man who delivered papers and parcels a few days a week, went to church once a week, and spent the rest of his time sharing a house with a wife who had the rebelliousness of a caged tiger? Few other wives like Sheeba decided to keep their surname, especially one as ridiculous as Bathman.

For a man with such a mundane life, it would be apparent that Jon found social release in his work. Besides his slight meal of tea and sponge cake, the only other time when Jon ever found some sort of comfort or emotional excitation was in his profession, driving from street to street and walking from door to door, hoping that the inhabitants were indeed in the house so that he could begin some piddling conversation about the trend of milk prices or about personal wine preferences to momentarily add some pathetic colour into his life.

And so, on this Tuesday morning, when Jon was feeling particularly moody and pensive, the Pu’er lover got into his vehicle, threw aside his rusty crowbar and set of parcels into the passenger seat, and drove off to start his daily routine, hoping to bring a little intensity through conversation with that snooty simpleton David Shepard.

Daily mail routes always began with Mr. David Shepard. Few people liked him, just because he happened to be the only one in town making a salary over a hundred grand per year, and growing, doing who knows what with his business deals. Ambition ruled his life, and there was no doubt that he’d kill a nun if it meant making a grand more a year. Yet even given his womanizing tendencies, he got on surprisingly well with Jon, even to the point that Jon might be considered the closest thing David had to a friend, not counting the women David frequented with his one-night stands.

When Jon arrived at David’s house, it was the same exchange of greetings, same discussion over milk and wine, same mannerisms in general. As usual, the radio was playing in the background. It was Carly Simon this time, always a favorite of David’s, though Jon abhorred her singing, and her lyrics didn’t help either.

“… Well you’re where you should be all the time … And when you’re not you’re with some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend, wife of a close friend, and … You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you …” and *click*.

Jon turned down the radio before the song went any further. He never had a thing for overly critical songs, and if he were Nixon, Ms. Simon would make his Enemies List just for making that song. Thus, he parted, and left Mr. Shepard to his own devices while he continued on with his ennui-filled mail route.

Wednesday – ______, 20__

No mailing today. Despite that worthless creed about rain and sleet and all that other excrement, Jon decided to take the day off. Perhaps replacing a normal day of boredom with a different sort of boredom would do something with his life. But everything was still same old, same old. His chatty, nagging, retaliatory wife still existed, and even his afternoon sponge cake and tea meal did little to please him. Only thing out of the ordinary was that Sheeba gave him a box of Earl Grey, apparently a gift from Mr. Shepard when Sheeba had bumped into him the night before. Ironic that Jon couldn’t talk to David, but his wife did. But even though he liked Shepard as a decent acquaintance, Jon hated Earl Grey …

∞ – _____∞______∞_, __∞__ (Ad Infinitum)

He found himself standing on white ground, surrounded by a light white fog. The only thing that cut through this purity was the blood trickling from his nose and from the left side of his forehead. The taste of rust from where he had been hit on the left side of his mouth still lingered, even though his corporeal self was a distance from him that could not be measured in manmade units.

He tried to remember what had happened, but the occurrence of events was too quick to recall. One second, he went outside to gather his newspaper and business letters, and the next, he felt a metallic *clunk* as something firm and metallic hit the back of his head. Within two minutes, he found himself surrounded by white. Whoever hit him and for what reason, he had almost no clue, although recollections of his past transgressions intimated something sinister …

A staircase opened in front of him, itself white and heading upwards rather than downwards, as he had originally thought it would. At last, this was the fulfillment of his life, the completion of all aspirations! For what could be better than eternal existence in a state of bliss and felicity with the Big Guy up there? And so he took his first step, never looking back, with a massive smile on his face.

… White stairs and fog soon turn shades of sanguinary crimson and ruby, and though his walk continues, the massive smile on David Shepard’s face becomes an everlasting frown …

Sunday – ______, 20__

No leads, no weapon, no suspect, nothing at all. No one saw what happened, and it seemed that no one would ever know.

Church lasted two hours more than usual, perfect timing to place the funeral on the most sensible day of the week. And as snooty and womanizing as David was, the churchgoers didn’t leave before the funeral. However, it was probably not so much because of their pity for him, but rather because a decent amount of his assets had been placed towards funding the funeral luncheon afterwards.

To start the luncheon, in the hope that a bit of divine aid would help reveal the perpetrator, the priest reiterated a warning mentioned ever since the beginning of the Common Era: “Woe to the man who betrays his fellow man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.” He threw in a term from the Aeneid, “Perge sequar,” at the end, and thus began the luncheon, ceremoniously dipping bread pieces in a plate of olive oil and passing them to the meal attendees. Jon got a piece first, for he perhaps knew David best. Again, if Jon were an avid reader, he’d recognize the Latin phrase as meaning “Advance, I follow.”

Back from church, Jon was in no mood to talk, and Sheeba, though typically critical and talkative towards him, oddly seemed to have lost her flapping gums with an equally pensive mood. Jon had quite a bit from the lunch; even so, he determined to have his tea and madeleines.

There was no Pu’er left, strangely enough, so Jon had to resort to using that dreaded Earl Grey that David gave Sheeba. The brew was not the dark brown color of Pu’er. It rather resembled a dark brandy or cognac, drinks all too sinister in Jon’s view. He dipped one of the sponge cakes halfway into the steaming drink, and unlike with the Pu’er, which turned the soaked cake a darker goldenrod, the cake dipped in Earl Grey turned a rosy, almost crimson, color. The color definitely didn’t settle well with Jon, but he still took a bite of the madeleine.

The sounds of head hitting concrete and metal crushing bone; the tastes of metallic rust and flowing, warm blood; and the smell of the lawn grass covered in dew that soon mingled with blood all came rushing back in an instant, and for just an instant. Suddenly, the phrase “Perge sequar” escaped from his lips, a gentle, yet audible, whisper.

Surprisingly, the Earl Grey wasn’t that bad. And so Jon kept on eating and drinking, as if nothing had happened or deterred his mind.

… Meanwhile, in that other Place that Jon does not yet know, but would in due time, the everlasting frown becomes a crimson and ruby smirk, its last ever utterance being:

“Perge sequar, indeed …”

Artwork by Cindy Hu

“Complete Strangers”

A Personal Account by Edric Truong

“Capture”Complete by strangersCindy Hu were what we were. I was with my own hiking group at Eaton Canyon on the same day, just about 10 minutes behind them. The moment a helicopter descended from the Figure Drawing by Cindy Hu sky was when I sensed that something was wrong. We later passed by a young man near the side of a steep cliff bleeding profusely from the side of his head as a woman suppressed the bleeding with a crimson-stained white towel. Perhaps it was due to the bystander effect or it was the belief that we could do no more than what the woman was doing to help him is why we continued on past him without stopping. I thought he was the only one and that he was “going to be fine.” I was completely wrong. Later after our trip a female hiker casually stated “someone died.” Inquiring more into detail, we learned that it was a girl. “Just a girl,” I thought. It's easier to ignore death if one does not know the identity of the deceased. It was my own punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when I returned home, safe and sound, to stare at my Facebook feed for what seemed to be an eternity. Like the waves of air sent out by the chopper hovering above us that March morning, her departure created a wave of emotion that shocked everyone who didn't know her and paralyzed everyone who did know her. Perhaps we all took her presence for granted, but I wouldn't know personally because, to her, I am, and always will be, a complete stranger.

“Shutter” by Cindy Hu