Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity a different way. My brother, Jimmy, is 15 dwelled on it much since then either. What and reminds me of how I was two years I have taken from that time is knowledge, earlier. My sister, Brianna, is 10 and it is acceptance, and strength. Knowledge of always fun to dress her up and do her hair what I may have to deal with in the future, when she is excited for a special event. acceptance that there will always be Last, is my smallest brother, Sammy. He is hardships, and strength go on when I feel just about the cutest five-year-old there is. stranded. In fact, currently, he is missing all his front As corny as these things sound, I teeth and smiles to show everyone. He has think you can agree they are less corny the highest spirits of anyone I know. He is than a cliché. What I gained wasn’t a strong and rambunctious. He can physically reason or way to explain life. It was and mentally tolerate a lot of pain and something for me. Every time you are Megan Woodward pressure for a kindergartner. Unfortunately, forced to experience one of those “life- 2 Round Rings he didn’t gain these attributes by living a changing” events, don’t look for a way to simple life. explain it or dwell on the reason. Don’t look By Candace Mallory When I was in 8th grade, Sammy for a cliché out there, so you feel someone was diagnosed with a very severe case understands what you’re going through. They are the only ones that fit us. We are of pneumonia. But, that doesn’t matter. Find something in it for you. I promise it will the only ones who wear them. Two round When someone you love is threatened with be a great deal more rewarding. rings with words engraved and meaning something like their life, the reason doesn’t behind them. Two who mean the same matter; it’s getting rid of the threat that thing, but not for the same person. Two consumes your mind. The story of the tests smooth sides polished to shine. From the and results and constant advising of the church we exchange them, but they were doctors doesn’t matter either. It is a mere given to each other before hand. blur in my mind anyway. Those are the Their meaning is scared. They send a things you tend to remember, even though message to everyone who sees. They you don’t need to. are put on and taken off and taken to the The one detail I will share is how jewlers and cleaned to sparkle. This is how my brother fought. My mom stayed in the they glisten. hospital with him night and day. Seeing him Let two become one, they’d forget all of the lying in that hospital bed, with my mother past, each growing stronger in love. Love, weeping next to him, was unbearable. He love. Love surrounds them. They join. was so small for his age, and the huge Untitled white sheets seemed to engulf his helpless By Anonymous body. He had tubes coming out from his arms and chest, and he was always sound It’s remarkable how a few days can asleep with the exhaustion of crying for so shape the rest of your month, or how a few many grueling hours. His lungs were full of months can shape the rest of your year, liquid as a symptom of the pneumonia. He or how a few years can shape the rest of had to endure two surgeries to fully relieve your life. Just when you believe you have his lungs. a hold on what’s going on around you, it What I am describing in a few slips through your fingers. It seems like the sentences actually took weeks of sorrow, harder you squeeze the more likely it is pain, and concern. That’s another thing to leak from your grasp. There’s all those about life: a horrific, long, agonizing event Megan Woodward clichés about life, made by people trying can be summed up in a couple sentences Voting to understand it. “Life’s never fair,” “Life is after it’s over, but no one really knows it in By Matthew Axberg like a box of chocolates,” “When life gives your eyes. No one knows the whole story, you lemons, make lemonade,” and “Live and sometimes it is best left that way. I don’t want to vote and let live.” However, these aren’t always Now, all my brother has to account for his I can’t, I won’t, true for everyone. Not everyone has an experience walking at the edge of life, is a voting is lame unfair life, not everyone has an assorted few deep scars and the yearly checkup. all I feel is shame. life of chocolates, not everyone can make At the age of 17, I’m sure most People ask me why I don’t vote lemonade when the lemons are too sour, teenagers have experienced a death or I say cause I don’t, and not everyone let’s others live. It’s quite near death experience in their family. I know I have that right a surprise how many different ways life can I’m sure they all can sum it up in a few maybe someday I might. be lived and described. I do not argue with sentences while living a whole different I think most of the people that run anyone on their view of life, but this is mine. life in their minds when they think about it. just do it for fun, I have always had a satisfying And I’m sure most of them have moved on, it’s hard to be a chooser life, so I won’t waste time explaining my but have also remembered what they felt when everyone’s a loser. childhood. That isn’t what this is about. they had to. After every new occurrence People run for the crowd That is my first thought on life. I think in life, people come up with new ways shout things real loud, sometimes it is good to concentrate on the of viewing time. That’s how clichés are listeners are so numb bad things that happen. Just long enough formed. My brother’s sickness didn’t give they believe anything, even if it’s dumb. to learn a lesson. After that, it is best to me a new outlook on life. I love my little Oh well. What can I do? move on and heal. In this case the “bad brother and am thankful to still have him. those who see it my way are few, thing” involved my youngest brother. I I probably haven’t changed the way I live some people just want fame am the oldest sibling of four. I appreciate since he was sick. I don’t think I have even care or not care it’s all the same. every one of them. They all affect me in

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Knucks Around For the Eye that Cannot See Their What Matters to Me By Zach Trepanier Pain By Anonymous Aced a test By Andrew Sisulak What matters to me? Kissed a chick I don’t know, Knucks around bro Emblems What matters to you? Cause that’s just sick They bring desire, Man against man, That’s what matters to me. Don’t give me skin Carve each other, Do you think for yourself? Just give me a pound By the rigid blade, Or ask for help? Skin’s so last year To be a Father, Is a lie a big deal? Knucks around The admiration, The beast surfaces, Or can you shrug it off? When you’re kickin So material, What matters to me? At N64 As others die, Why do you ask? Pass around the rock As others are exiled, Am I being judged by my reply? Cause that’s knucks galore As others suffer, I sleep in this warmth, Does it matter to you? What matters to me? Rolled a strike Yet I am chilled Does it matter if I don’t try? Hole in one By the inhumanity Knucks around bro And ignorance Cause that’s a job well done Of my kin

So when you see something sweet Don’t be a clown Stick out the fist And knucks around The Boy by the River By Natalie Wasilczuk

Soft, sweet scents flutter through the air. They tell a story. The wintery cold defeated, and the sun shines bright, backed by sky like a robin’s egg. And the girl walks the field through flowers and grass that tickle her legs and dance under her bare feet. Her tears will help them grow. And she looks so calm to the boy by the river, but her heart is racing, and her fingers intertwined in nervous motions, and the thoughts fill her mind, and why did he die? And she walks to the river, she’s almost there, and her heart is still racing, and her soft feet are bare, and the boy is still watching behind the long vines of an old, weathered willow, and whistles a sigh. The springtime sun mocks her mourning, Britnee Brauer Voting Through Life her loss, and its rays meet her tears, and Black Platinum Mask By Shelby Brehmer they shine. And the boy sees her cry. He By Andrew Sisulak feels the same loss, but she doesn’t know Voting at just eighteen, he’s there, and the river stole his heart, and It covers my face, Not knowing what to do, it sinks in despair. And the girl’s wet eyes Saving them from the terror, glare at the river right there, and she sits And without a clue. An alteration of identity, on the brink where her love’s heart sinks. Inhibiting my judgment, When going to the poles, And the boy leaves his hideout, he’s crying Under the crown, You go with very little knows, inside now, he sits by her side, by the love To which I follow, Cause they don’t want to know. of his life, the tears fill his eyes, and why For I die without, did he die? Yet I am already dead I’ll watch campaigns, And all speeches, LET ME IN Slay me, But it might not make a difference. By Matthew Axberg Take this away, Let no immortal diminish humanity When I turn eighteen, He ran across the lawn. The door was Guard beauty for the beautiful souls, I’ll watch politics with glee, And repulsive for the tainted, locked. He had a look of furious anger on So I pick the best for the Presidency. his face. He looked around him to make With eternal prayer, sure no one was watching. He broke the Every candidate has to make their point, window silently. He ran upstairs to the I live, Without any fence sitting, Cursed, master bedroom. He opened the door and So we will see how voting goes. rushed inside to the private bathroom. Under oath to the Devil 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled By Shelley Grosch Rage By Anonymous The Librarian It is the warm smile of one you love, By Natalie Wasilczuk Sharing memories with an old friend. Suppress it, It is laughing so hard, Control it, It’s been a year now. One full year That your sides begin to hurt Hide it, since I started working at the Silver Crest And forgetting why something so stupid Force it, Public Library. The automatic doors part Could make you laugh so hard. Love it, for me, and I walk into the small building. That matters. I HATE IT One year… A year ago at this time, I stepped It is a girls’ night in, Rage through the same doors, embarrassed Complete with sappy movies and junk food. of the only job I could acquire. But it’s Popcorn and chocolate. Monitor it, temporary, and I won’t be here long, I It is warm sand Play with it, thought. And now it’s been a year. That squishes between your toes, Bottle it, A father and her two small children And somehow gets into your bologna Channel it, walk in wearing puffy winter jackets, sandwich, Lost control of it, gloves, hats, and boots, leaving wet, slushy But you don’t care because that matters. footprints in their wakes. The young boy Rage runs to the children’s section. It is the unbearable excitement “Dad, look at this!” he says, holding You feel on Christmas Eve. Imply it, up a book about monster trucks. It is being 6-years-old again Refine it, “Shh! This is a library!” I whisper- And spinning enough Deny it, shout across the room. I hate those words, That you cannot help but fall down Supply it, hate I’m the one the kids glare at, but it And get back up just to do it again. Define it, must be said. And maybe I should keep an That matters. eye on them…. Rage The books are out of order again, It is letting it all go, placed carelessly on the shelves, Fs and These inhibitions, Violent excitement Qs in the same section. Stein next to And dancing as if nobody can see. Throbbing desire, McKarthy and Smith next to Paverell… It is the overpowering stink of new paints extreme suffering, Smith, like the one I know. Knew. She On a new canvas. never called me back, hasn’t sent an email It is a fresh start, a beginning, Rage since Katie’s baby pictures. I wonder what That matters. her life is like. Is she rich, successful, married? Or is she a single mother working The little things matter in a library, just getting by? No, no…she In this life where we grow up so fast wouldn’t end up like me, not in a million And reward seems to come so slowly, years. Carly always worked hard and even If ever. if she slacked a little, her good luck carried But never forget the things that matter: her through. But why won’t she call if she’s Friends, gratitude, love, family, life, living the life she’s always dreamed of? compassion. “Daddy, can I get all of these?” the That matters. small girl says in a painfully high voice. She sits in a pile of twenty books. “No, no, honey, pick out three and put the rest back, please.” The little girl screws up her face as if making the decision of the century. After three seconds of careful consideration, she grabs Rainbow Fish, a Clifford book, and a book about ballerinas. She starts replacing books to the shelf, but sees her father’s turned back and sneakily shoves the remaining books under a nearby armchair. Great, thanks. The girl runs to her father and shows him the books she picked out. “Those look great, Katie,” he says and takes the books. Katie…and then I see it. The girl’s bright blue eyes staring into her father’s face. My Carly’s bright blue eyes staring into that man’s face with my Carly’s hair and hardly-noticeable freckles. I approach the man warily, nervous excitement building up inside of me. Hope fills me, but my bubble bursts when I talk to him and find out the news. No wonder she never called me. Britnee Brauer 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Trapped in Elevator agreement. I watch from above By Candace Mallory “Hey, me too!” said Pumbaa looking at Like a movie scene himself shrink. “I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m “Oh dear, wrong tea,” said the White I wish someone could tell me late,” said the White Rabbit from Alice in Rabbit. What I should be looking for Wonderland, as he raced into the elevator. Now everyone was six inches tall. Something that makes my days “Oh Bruzer look, a cute little white bunny,” “How are we going to get out of here? This Not a blur anymore said Ell Woods. can’t be good for my clothes,” said Ell. The White Rabbit and Pumbaa looked at The White Rabbit looked at his watch and each other, smiled and slipped down at the jumped. “Oh dear, I’m late, I’m late, I’m crack in between the elevator doors. late!” Music The shinny elevator doors open on the next By Natalie Wasilczuk floor and Pumbaa came charging into the elevator. “Well, hello there,” said Pumbaa. softly floating silver reaches my soul and “Whoever said brown was the new black, is nothing else could ever, seriously disturbed,” said Ell. ever compare to this mist, this aura, this fog that helps me see, The elevator comes to a jolting stop. and I’ve been so foolish, and forgive me, “Oh no! I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, and please sing sweet notes to soothe my I’m late.” remorse, “Hakuna Matata,” said Pumbaa as he so we can hear this soft silver floating smiled. through the air together, “I object!”said Ell. and loose ourselves to the rhythm we “Hakuna Matata, it means no worries,” said choose Pumbaa as he started to hum. and the melody will kiss the floating mist Andrew Lindenberg “Well, I suppose I’ll have some tea then. and the music won’t end, not a music like Anyone care to join?” said the White Rabbit this as he pulled out a wooden table, four A Detailed Study of Seasoned wooden chairs, a white table cloth, and a American blue and white tea set. By Anna Quint “Bruzer and I would love some,” said Ell to the rabbit. “Look Bruzer, a cute little chair When it comes time to wade in water, and cup for you!” The kin choose to stay with the Sire. “I would love some grub. Got any worms?” To left or right follows the daughter. said Pumbaa as he licked his lips. Divided by invisible wire. “No, just bisquets.” When they finished drinking the warm The families wade under the boat, tea, they started to get a tingling feeling Where worms look real and bobbers don’t throughout their bodies. float. “Um, like what is going on? I think I’m Trusting the man in the dark black coat, shrinking,” said Ell and Bruzer barked in Hooks lurk in water, better not choke.

A tasty grub wiggled, squirmed, fought; The trout has not eaten for some time. Fisherman smiles, the fish is caught. Money is law, killing is no crime.

With schools of a hundred or greater, Megan Woodward The lone trout can change it to the same. A Blur The suits will just account him later, By Zach Trepanier Just as they did before to the grain.

My days are a blur The boat with the most trout underneath They all seem the same Sells its banquet to the fleshy sphere. Nothing ever changes Trout are displayed as deserving wreath, Life is one boring game Or unworthy to receive a tear.

Played by billions Another She Picked from the Garden But no one knows how to play By Natalie Wasilczuk Such a stupid game But we play everyday After the rose had cut both hands Commitment waned and cut its growth, No rules no directions But still he justified crude talk; Nothing to help us out And summer interest, morning walks No handbook that says Saw tension growing, hopes fell low. What life is all about Problems reflect a potential to slow Between differing sides that could have Britnee Brauer But the days keep floating by been close, And who knows what they mean And cut the rose of yesterday’s growth. 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled Broken These flowers’ strong roots, they can By Anonymous By Zach Trepanier handle the rain.

Why did the sun lose its brightness? You were the stem of my rose, Broken inside Why did that star leave the day? The trunk of my tree, Ripped by the seams Why is the rain too heavy, too much? Until I took my axe, Hallowed like a pumpkin Why can’t it just go away? And chopped you down. Buckled at the knees I put you in a pile, The trees cast big, black shadows. And walked far away. It’s over, it’s done The trees with their big, green leaves. The rain poured that day, It’s finished, it’s through The trees, take the life; the trees take the The sun didn’t shine that day. The words sting my ears day. I gathered myself, Cause I know I lost you Those tall, leafy trees stole the sun away. And poured into bed. I laid pondering the thought, Broken on the inside Why can’t those trees take some of the You’re really gone, Broken like a toy rain? You’re not coming back. Thrown out the window Why won’t they stop giving too much I was petrified you’d leave, Now I’m crying like a boy shade? But you never did. Why can’t they share the light of the day? So the day I picked up my axe, But I never really had you Why can’t the big trees just go away? Everything broke. So why do I care You are the sun. Why am I broken The clouds overhead let go their wet I am the rain. This just isn’t fair weight. I’m sorry. I learned to love They gave it away to some flowers one Something I never really had day. One Fallen Bird It should have been clear And the moisture they handled drowned By Alex Wank That this would end up bad soft-colored petals That prayed for the end of a cold disarray. Hopelessness is the dark night. You The sky black as coal. The clouds glowing By Anonymous Why have the clouds dropped their ember falls. No sound can be heard over burdens? the silence. The sky ripped open. A shape You’re the reason I’m alive Why did they selfishly leave? descends. The figure, hopes and dreams, The reason I still breathe Why have they traded their darkness for revealing itself to the world. A grand bird You’re the one who saved me white? glides. Light shines from the feathers, So why’d you have to leave? Why burden small flowers, not trees? majestic against the darkness. The places this creature flies - unlimited. The visions You laughed to make me happy Music of beauty never ending. It flies with all. For You cried when I was weak By Natalie Wasilczuk all. Within all. It spreads wings. The span You’re the reason I’m alive. immense, free. It soars above towers, The reason I still breathe. softly floating silver reaches my soul and above imagination. nothing else could ever, And it is destroyed. Distance didn’t stop the love ever compare to this mist, this aura, this fog Into the glass. The cadaver holding Doubt fades with those three words that helps me see, thousands of possibilities. Now nothing. You’re the one who saved me. and I’ve been so foolish, and forgive me, The heart breaks. So why’d you have to leave? and please sing sweet notes to soothe my The bird dies. No tear is shed. remorse, You killed my fear of friendship so we can hear this soft silver floating And made higher feelings peak, through the air together, You’re the reason I’m alive. and lose ourselves to the rhythm we The reason I still breathe choose and the melody will kiss the floating mist I was a fool for leaving and the music won’t end, not a music like Because you are all I need. this You’re the one who saved me. So why’d you have to leave? Untitled By Anonymous Fear takes hold when you leave me Out of loneliness I sleep, rose pedals fall You’re the reason I’m alive. down to the grass So why do I still weep? like fall leaves in autumn Storm rose, By Natalie Wasilczuk the perfect flower so beautiful and true The flowers shine bright, though the sun until those never came. pedals fall off They feed off the rain like a life needs some then you’re back to just being ordinary pain. poor rose, And deep, heavy floods aren’t their right to never had a chance. Valerie VanTussi complain. 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled remember the times, when life was young. Walking into the room By Karly Pearson But this is now, which scares you the most. The cold hard stares break you down inside You think of the things you wanted to You walk across that stage as they call accomplish, and realize that this is the time What was supposed to be done? your name, to be them. Stand behind someone or shine in your Showing that you have had the guts to do own light? what it takes. You have so much to say, but decide to Fight for what you believe and know is right It’s something very special, and so much wait for you never know what in the future a So you turn away acting as if you don’t care well earned, it has been twelve waited waits. years for this to come. So you bite your tongue and show that Questions run through you mind Everyone cheers as they see you smile smile. As you walk across the painted squares but behind that smile you hide away All you can do is wait. What does it matter to them? trying not to show what it really feels like Apparently everything, they are done being to walk across that stage alone. You look over the stage to the other side your friend to see your friends waiting for their name You’re friends flash you a returning smile to be called, so they can take the same How could everyone already know? through these four years they have learned journey and meet you on the other side. It was one simple fight about you. That continued throughout the night They have learned how to read you inside You watch each friend as they cross that You sit somewhere that no questions are and out. stage, reaching for their diplomas and asked They have learned what you try to hide. saying their goodbyes. They have learned your emotions and your Each of their eyes are truly thankful Old friends are revisited fears you hold, and they can see your pain and become a little teary when they turn to Maybe the ones who had been forgotten in the fake emotions you show, walk away. And to realize they are glad that you are That’s hidden behind that fooling mask. back They know you are scared of this stage These years have been easy. A true friend always picks up your slack and don’t want to leave them behind These years have been the best. but you continue to walk across that stage These years have been hard. Life will soon go on alone. These years have been the worst. The present will soon become the past New drama will grace our school which You shake the hands with the familiar proud You always wanted to leave it behind, won’t last faces, as you take that piece of paper and but you never knew just how it would feel So you wait patiently until life returns hear congratulations. when you could. Its been a long journey that seems to have And now you wish you could walk back The walls at school always talk been cut short, when it feels like you were over that stage and do it all backwards. People are whiling to exclude just building tents and forts. While others are really to except Now, somehow, you’re here and received Mix it Up The most important thing you need for this paper, that says you are no longer part By Brianne Becker yourself is respect of this school- family. It’s Monday and everyone already knows You finish your walk across that stage and Of the drama that filled the weekend before

Andrew Lindenburg 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled Untitled By Anonymous By Anonymous you look into the reflection I’ll slam my car of that broken glass into a tree but is it really broken? he says your liberty is absent. as he takes for you are now innertwined in a mess one more drink a mess of hatred of that sweet alcohol. directed to only one person. it’s your fault, he mutters. you look into the reflection could it be true? you’re going to do you see what others see? believe him he tells you you’re beautiful, aren’t you? of course you are. but he’s deceited you before. love is something you look into the reflection so rare the glass is no longer broken you say. you get a look at what you’ve become. i need him to survive. nothing. he’s my everything he treats you terribly you don’t mind By Michelle Manthey Untitled because he’s yours. By Grace Collura The Warehouse Six Billion Lonely Stars By Alex Wank The sunglasses are dusted off By Natalie Wasilczuk No more parking in the school lots There’s an old warehouse in D.C. The warm weathers here They are not the only ones who feel filled with hundreds of boxes. Inside one lies Hanging out on your friends pier that way. I am not the only one who feels a dusty orange recorder. Pressing the play Yeah these are the good times this way. Six billion lonely stars that could button yields two minutes of static, followed When everything feels fine shine so bright and warm your heart. Six by a frantic man’s voice. New memories to be made billion who do not feel needed, but they “Roswell… July… Don’t have to worry about grades are. Six billion stars scattered in the sky to 1947... 509th Bomb Staying up real late fill a void. From wherever we are, we can Group…. Some Yeah, everything feels great see them, but no one appreciates their giant disc falling Endless parties and new embarrassing pics company. from the sky.” Don’t have to worry about how fast the They send their light into the night. That’s when clock ticks They come out and go away and hide the bullet will Funny moments which you’ll never forget during the hectic day and shine at the Taking chances you’ll never regret empty world at night when few care to enter your head. Tanning outside feeling that warm sun notice how they are so incredibly bright. Yeah, everything’s way more fun This is how they shine. Let no one ignore The Storm Consoles So cheers to an endless time their light, they’d all lose their lives, each By Natalie Wasilczuk Drinking smoothies with a lime so secluded and far away. Shine, shine, or Yeah, it’s all because of one season you’ll run out of time. They cry. The rain cries lonely tears for me. Which makes me happier for a reason When I am too scared or too lonely It shares despondent misery. And that’s all because of.....summer to keep shining, when I am a small light Without a face, but with a voice, and everyone else is so bright, then it is Reflecting feelings for my choice. I remember the stars. When no one else can see we’re all the same. Six billion Luck The lightning in its majesty, who shine together. Six billion who don’t By Alex Wank Strikes fiercely without empathy, disappear when it’s dark. Six billion whose And leaves me pouting, wet and cold, purpose is to give the world light. Six billion The man walked into the airport. Wishing I’d done what my heart told. lonely stars who shine so bright. He strode past the checkpoints, grinning eagerly. The thunder drowns my rhythmic sobs Today he was signing the contract – And understands my poor façade, becoming a millionaire. But when will come that joyful day As he waltzed through the terminal a When I can throw my mask away? mother was interrupted by her son, thus spilling her coffee on the man’s chest. He raced to the bathroom, missing his plane: Flight 175, September 11th.

Valerie VanTussi 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity I am from my mom With her caring all the while.

I am from the land Where the dreams are born bright. I am from the one That makes everything right.

I am just one soul Only this I do fear. But I am from the hope That love is all here.

The Boy by the River By Natalie Wasilczuk

Soft, sweet scents flutter through the air. They tell a story. The wintery cold defeated, and the sun shines bright, Kelsey Allard backed by sky like a robin’s egg. And the girl walks the field through flowers and Campfire “Yeah, that was stupid,” Billy agreed. grass that tickle her legs and dance under By Alex Wank “I have a better one.” her bare feet. Her tears will help them So the night went, the boys telling grow. And she looks so calm to the boy by It was a dark and damp night. The chilling tales and laughing at hooked the river, but her heart is racing, and her deep woods were silent except for the maniacs. It was decided later in the night fingers intertwined in nervous motions, and crackling of flames and the occasional to sleep, and the boys each went to their the thoughts fill her mind, and why did he animal. The woods were black also, save for separate sleeping bags. die? the glowing embers, dancing in the clearing About an hour passed and Mike And she walks to the river, she’s near the center of the woods. Around the spoke up. almost there, and her heart is still racing, glowing blaze sat four friends: Billy, Dan, “Ted, are you asleep?” and her soft feet are bare, and the boy is Ted, and Mike. They were having a bonfire “Yes, Mike.” still watching behind the long vines of an - discussing school, girls, games, girls, evil “That story you told tonight, was that old, weathered willow, and whistles a sigh. teachers, and girls. Finally, as they were real?” The springtime sun mocks her mourning, getting tired, they decided to tell ghost “Real?” her loss, and its rays meet her tears, and stories. Ted was the quickest, practically “Yeah, I mean it. It sounds possible. they shine. And the boy sees her cry. He jumping up to tell his story. I know how lame this sounds, but it won’t feels the same loss, but she doesn’t know “I have one. It’s about something stay out of my mind.” he’s there, and the river stole his heart, and I heard about the other week. It’s about Ted was silent for a moment. “You it sinks in despair. And the girl’s wet eyes aliens.” The children groaned, having heard couldn’t let it go,” he spoke, sadly. glare at the river right there, and she sits so many tales about these space invaders. “What?” Mike asked, fully awake on the brink where her love’s heart sinks. “This is a scary one! I swear,” insisted Ted. now. And the boy leaves his hideout, he’s crying “What makes it so scary?” his friend “I’m sorry, Mike. I really didn’t mean inside now, he sits by her side, by the love Mike asked. for it to go this way.” of his life, the tears fill his eyes, and why “Nothing much, except for the fact Before Mike could respond or wake did he die? that it’s real.” The boys stared at Ted for a up the other boys, he felt something slimy few seconds until his friend Dan spoke up. move across his neck. “Well… Let’s hear it.” Don’t Let Go “Ok. Last month during the meteor By Zach Trepanier shower, a visitor made his way down to Earth, Dream Awake unseen. These aliens are not the peaceful By Alex Wank Baby look inside yourself type, they have long tentacles, which they And tell me what you see clamp onto a human with, and take that I am not from the Garden Does it all seem fuzzy person’s form. The alien then lives in it’s Where Judgment was passed. When you find yourself thinking of me host’s body, transforming other humans into I am not from the Fires slaves. The creepy thing is that you can’t tell Where the Fallen was cast. Think of how you told me who has been changed, because they act That you love me uncontrollably normal until their new master calls. This is I am not from the sane Let yourself be taken away how they pass among us unnoticed. Soon, Nor the screwed up. Let yourself be free these aliens are going to show themselves, I am from my home and then they will take over the world. There The place I grew up. Don’t try to tie your heart down will be no way to stop them, because there Don’t deny yourself of what you feel will be no trust left. It will be pure anarchy I am from the Koontz Baby don’t let go of me and the world will fall.” To the Shan and the Flynn. Of something that’s so real There was a chilling silence. The I am from the chair sounds of the fire were gone, as were those That I was rocked in. of the forest. It was shattered when Dan spoke. I am from my dad “That wasn’t scary.” Always making me smile.

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Family A Quest By Andy Dix By Aaron Gnas

I am from an age group that may or may The strong, the wise, the blessed not enjoy Old Skool Rap, A holy tradition you could say. From Run DMC with JMJ (Jam Master Jay) Creation after creation with them roaming around everywhere in Nothing but the same people, new faces Adidas. Not in our case. Deep within the eyes of our Father, a I am from an average house where family hidden truth is found. rushes in and out. Only those born with strength and power On the weekends you can count on father can be handed this insignia and son getting full of grease in the garage. For within the Kingdom of God, we are the The dogs are active and protective when chosen. someone arrives to visit. We learn by our surroundings; I am from a rock that is hard to crack. We perceive God himself; I am stubborn, strong willed, and know There is no sky limiting us; what I want to do. Arrogance you might say. I am an individual that is always around to help a friend who needs some stability. However, flawlessness comes at a price; Where there’s truth, there’s no seeker, I am from a family that enjoys viewing cars Where there’s talent, there’s no audience, from our past. Where there’s accomplishment, there’s no As a family we enjoy car shows and cruisin’ impact. Mallory Zimmermann around in them. We do not know our purpose. Our love for cars goes back to grandpa But we do know that we are selected for a Where I’m From who became interested in cars when he reason, By Candace Mallory was a teen. A reason we may never find. Not one person in my family likes the I’m from babysitters and late nights waiting morning. We enjoy our late afternoons and Let the journey continue… for my mom, evenings, when all the action comes about. I’m from vacuuming apartment stairways, to When we have to be up early, we are all at help keep a lower rent. each other’s throats yelling and arguing. My Name From charcoal kokopellies dancing along It seems as though nothing ever gets done. By Andrew Sisulak the walls, From being told at a young age that it’s I’m from running through a cold sprinkler, to important to believe in myself. Scrape these blasted craters from my keep from getting warm. I need to always be confident, never give mask, up, and be patient. So I may be the guy to that girl, I’m from the family gathered around the These values don’t happen overnight. And give me one more chance, Christmas tree, and stuffing our faces with This helped me with baseball and other So I may change what I like not, little wieners. sports. And find the cure for the lost, I’m from Jennifer and Andy, oh and Jack’s too, I am from a christiann family that follows all Take the blindfold off, From yelling and laughter, all filled with the holidays. So I may see what exists love. However, we do not go to church to Break the mask, I’m from puking every holiday, not exactly practice. So I may open these clumsy lips sure why. Although the parents do on Mondays. Crush these shackles, So I may act I’m from “it’s only funny the first time” and I am from Wisconsin with nationalities Sing to my soul, “be sure your homework is done.” of American Indian, Puerto Rican, and So I may wake to her desires From the dusty Catholic bible which my German. step-dad turned to new, With chocolate torte and pumpkin pie on And when I shatter, I’m from “up nort” in the middle of the state the mind for dessert. Who will retrieve the broken pieces, Chocolate and chunky hopel-popel. From my god-father doing a burn out Will I be able to notice another, From the father who left me when I was across Goodhope Ave. If she ever comes, two, The biker we were joking with to street race Or am I destined to be alone The one who now says he loves me, and who never took off to catch up. always thought of me too. From then on all I ever wanted to do is The body, Andy… go fast!! He is there to show me how to The mind, Andrew… be safe when going fast and when its The soul... appropriate. Issac I am an Wisconsinite through and through. Although I travel throughout the United States the badger state will always be my home!

Jon Gill

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity facts from now on, okay now? I don’t know how many times I tell you to study the artists diligently.” She shook her head softly. “That’ll teach me to hire another wannabe.” Delilah froze. Her arms had hurt for she swore her blood ran ice cold, causing everything in her body to cease. The visitors stared at her tensely, almost embarrassed for her. She choked before continuing on. Pushing through the day was hard when everything was always frazzled. “A famous piece and personally, one of my favorites, is ‘Starry Starry Night’ by Vincent Van Gogh,” she said. Delilah always said that was her favorite piece, but was it really? In the thick swirls of paint and the luminous, blobby stars that reached out in points like the white caps of waves, she wasn’t sure she found the painting terribly appealing anymore. She had lost interest in a painting that had become so Brad Gundrum much a part of popular society. This wasn’t The Great Escape against the cool, soft paper that was taped giving Delilah much hope, but each day By Kayla Herrera to the wall. Red, orange, pink; then another she continued to give her tours at the art dash of red and added some blue to the museum. Each day she glorified “Starry The sun rose, vibrant ribbons of pink, milieu to promote the idea that twilight was Starry Night” by Vincent Van Gogh, and purple, orange, and the blue tone of the not long gone. each day she grew more weary of it. lingering presence of the night expanding in She stood back to scrutinize her work Delilah had a boyfriend. It was delightful the sky. A few seagulls perched themselves and pressed her filthy hand under her how they met. She was sitting in the upon the corner of a building, squawking chin, ignoring the fact there was paint on park reading the latest Stephen King to one another and cocking their heads it. Something was absent; something just novel when she noticed a guy chasing to one side as if determining the strange wasn’t right. Her lips formed a small “O” a couple runaway sheets of paper. He occurrences of the awakening day. Indeed, as she grabbed the smallest paint brush looked ridiculous in his crisp, striped shirt Chicago was arising from its pleasant she had and dabbed it into the black and dress pants, bent over and wobbling sleep. paint. She began to draw the outline of a towards the papers. She effortlessly Delilah was similar to the seagulls, seagull, tracing its bulbous head several snatched the papers up and handed them for she sat upon her window glancing times before realizing a seagull is not what to the guy. His hair was milk chocolate- down at the city below from her mediocre she wanted to draw. Instead, she added a colored, long, and a tad bit curly. The ends apartment. Sure, these seagulls and pair of legs, arms, and wings to the head. bowed around his eyes and flipped out Delilah both had this position in common: Draping down the back of the flying human at the tips. His eyes were a radiant green an interest in watching the city slowly wake was the same long, auburn hair that hung and mirrored the sun, making them appear up. But there was an extreme difference, as from her own head. almost golden. He smiled gawkily as he well. The seagulls were free to extend their Delilah worked at an art museum, giving grasped the papers. wings and fly to wherever they pleased, hourly tours of the Pollock, Van Gogh, and “Thanks.” He grinned. whereas Delilah was stuck in this muddled African art exhibits. This wasn’t her dream “No problem,” she replied. Things were apartment with mottled chinaware and profession and she knew it, even as she incredible at first. Fiery passion met with zealous artwork. She hugged an orange felt the headpiece tucked around her ear bouts of love. That was until he got sick of pillow against her chest and watched as the securely, the microphone amplifying her her disorderly apartment, always something seagulls bobbed their heads and took off gruff voice. Her manager was a decorous, covered in paint. And how he hated those in flight towards the rising sun. Someday, nit-picky woman in her late forties, paint-covered tennis shoes. Why couldn’t Delilah, too, would fly away. surveying every blunder Delilah seemed to she find just one day to look proper? There Using the sunrise as inspiration, she make. As soon as she slipped up a word or was always paint somewhere on her body grabbed her paintbrush and gathered confused a fact, her manager was sure to whether it be inside her ears or on the the paints that sat in the corner on a hurry over and publicly debase her in front back of her arms. That was the point when shelf. Delilah and sleep did not associate of the entire crowd. her beau, Ben, started coming home late with each other. They were strangers in “Now, Delilah, I do not believe that from work; when all of the fiery passion different worlds, for Delilah Bessner did not he actually grew up in the middle of the had sizzled to its final spark it died out sleep. She believed there were too many rainforest. I do believe he was first placed soundlessly. opportunities in her life to just lie down and in a foster home near the rainforest and Delilah did not desire her life, not at all. squander valuable hours. then adopted by a South African family What was there to embrace? The only thing She tucked a lock of her ginger hair thereafter. Right?” she said. Everyone she managed to hold onto was her artistic behind her ear before slipping on a pair stared perplexedly at Delilah, taking in flair and yet, even that seemed to drive of latex gloves. Before her stood a vacant her flaws and waiting for the approval, the people away. She wanted to be content canvas; it was just as intimidating as a agreement, that she had been wrong. and liberated. There was also another blank stare from an unknown stranger, “Ah sure, yes I guess I forgot that. obstacle in the way of this aspiration: her tempting her to bring upon something Right…” She itched her neck nervously mother. She was the reason Deliah had inconceivable and beyond her natural where her fingernails dug into a dried blob only moved an hour away from home. It talent. This blank canvas wouldn’t stand of paint. Luckily, it had been hidden behind had always been thought out that Delilah desolate for very long. her braid. Her manager smiled in triumph. would go to the school her father had She scribbled feverishly with the brush “You just have to remember those graduated from. 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity As she grew older, her mind contemplated street.” Delilah began to play with the of a colossal bird. Just like in the movies, the ideas of different schools. What if she magnets on her fridge. This conversation maybe she’d get a soft landing on the attended this enormous university and was growing old, rapidly. awning of a vendor. discovered a place on her own rather than “Place down the street? Isn’t there one She turned around to face her embarking on a mission that has already in your apartment building? Do you have a apartment. Bono was now standing up been accomplished? Than exploring a friend who can go with you? You shouldn’t on his four, stubby legs, his head cocked place that has already been uncovered? be walking there alone. Women are in frustration. Her colorful paintings Her mind wavered and she fell into the vulnerable nowadays.” adorned her apartment walls, portraying hands of her parents, choosing to attend “The one here is broken. Look, Mom, I recollections of her dreams and desires. the university they had attended. No, got to go. I’m baking cookies and they’re These were her sentimental feelings on college there wasn’t bad, wasn’t terrible at going to burn if I don’t get off and if I try to paper, yet now she wanted to see some all. College had been the best years of her get them out with the phone, I’ll prolly burn of them in action. The only way to test this life; after that, everything seemed to fall into my arm off,” Delilah said as she stared at was to receive the rush; take the leap. this mundane pit. She began questioning the bare, cool oven across the room. So she turned back around and instead her decisions. Perhaps she should’ve “Oh, well okay then. Dad and I miss of looking down, she faced straight ahead attended college somewhere else? After you. I’ll call you later, bye.” Delilah set the towards the sun dipping below Lake reading all of those college books at the phone down and for some odd reason, it Michigan. Her wild, golden-brown hair now library, she had definitely learned that felt as if the receiver weighed at least one seemed to have turned a sizzling red in college was supposed to be an innovative hundred pounds. Her mother still treated the sun and her freckles were darker than experience. Instead, college was just like her like she was sixteen: young, stupid, and usual. Her eyes scanned the area in front getting back together with old friends and a know-it-all. This is not how Delilah had of her in search for any protruding objects, staying someplace proverbial. This wasn’t depicted her life at twenty-three years of but there were none. Yes, this was it. Her Delilah. She hankered for new places and age. This is not how things were supposed trembling hands grasped the ledge as experiences; and meeting new people. to turn out. she stood herself up, never once looking After all, it was how she was brought up. She raced to the window of her down at the traffic. She inhaled deeply and The phone rang and she stared down apartment and now faced a setting sun. exhaled at the same pace. And with one at the caller ID, knowing it was her mother. On the corner of the building sat a stout simple step, she walked off of the ledge of She called every Sunday to check in with seagull, looking her up and down with her apartment window. Her stomach rose Delilah. its beady eyes, taking in the resonating up to her throat and for a minute she felt “Hey how’s it going?” she asked her disappointment from her quivering frame. like she couldn’t breathe. Her hair whipped mother. Delilah wanted to be free. around her head sadistically and her “Good, good. So how’s everything with She slowly inched her way to the ledge eyes began to water, but then something you? You doing alright? How’s Bono?” and peered down. A bustling street was astounding happened. There were trivial, Delilah stared over at her French bulldog, below her, a plethora of dashing blurs and tickly sensations on the back of her Bono, who was fast asleep on his doggy intermingled colors. She could feel the shoulder blades. Out of nowhere, a pair bed. He snorted and itched his nose summer breeze tickle the microscopic hairs of brawny, feathery wings sprouted from unconsciously. on the back of her neck, almost alluring her her back. They instantaneously caught the “He’s fine, Mom. Everything’s fine.” into sliding forward. She couldn’t handle wind and stopped her falling. She flapped There was nothing worse than the nagging the monotony of her job or the chronic them gradually at first and pushed herself of her mother. All throughout her teen mistreatment from her boyfriend anymore. upward. Bono watched her as she flew past years, she thought she would be able to Her mother was still holding her down from her apartment window and towards the escape it once she moved out of the house. living her own life and it seemed there roof. Upon the corner sat the same, chubby Luckily, most of it dissipated. That is, until was nothing left in this tedious life. She seagull, taking in this new sight. Delilah she began to receive the weekly phone wanted to do something impulsive for once; grinned and with one great exhale, she calls from her. something crazy and unthinkable. Who swooped down like a vengeful hawk and “You getting your laundry done alright?” knows what would happen after she slid soared into the blinding light of the sunset, she asked. from this ledge? A plane could fly by and The fat seagull following closely behind. “Yes, I go to the little place down the catch her or she could land on the back

Kalli Kruger 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup

A Detailed Study of A SeasonedA collection of creativity beat as one. My Learned Lesson American Then, in a split moment, we kiss. By Anna Quint By David Haddix

This kiss is gentle, but full of energy, When it comes time to wade in water, There I was, passing cars like they It feels like a sweet summer’s day. were standing still on I-94. Cars in the The kin choose to stay with the Sire. At this moment there is nothing that words To left or right follows the daughter. fast lane had to move over to let me by. I could say. had my Valentine One radar detector and Divided by invisible wire. My love for you flourishes within my soul. thought I would never get caught with such The families wade under the boat, a dependable device, which told me how I whisper “I love you” into your ear, many types of radar it was sensing, what Where worms look real and bobbers don’t But I still feel this power of love, which is so float. direction they were coming from, and what strong. kind of radar or laser was detected. Trusting the man in the dark black coat, I wish I could show you how I feel, Hooks lurk in water, better not choke. Suddenly, the Valentine One started But it’s so hard nothing could explain it, beeping. I slammed the brakes and slowed Not even those three very special words. A tasty grub wiggled, squirmed, fought; to the speed limit. My friend and I figured The trout has not eaten for some time. See into my Soul the radar had originated on the other side of Fisherman smiles, the fish is caught. By Kevin A. Manthey the freeway, so I resumed speeding. While Money is law, killing is no crime. passing another group of cars, I noticed a If you could see into me, into my soul, car was keeping up with me. I assumed he With schools of a hundred or greater, What would you see? was either mad or he was a police officer. The lone trout can change it to the same. Well, what would you see? I casually moved over one lane, but he The suits will just account him later, Would you see the real me, or would you followed my every move. Looking in the Just as they did before to the grain. see, mirror, I saw red and blue lights. I felt sick Would you see a reflection of how you see to my stomach. The boat with the most trout underneath yourself? “Do you know how fast you were Sells its banquet to the fleshy sphere. going?” the officer asked. Trout are displayed as deserving wreath, If you looked into yourself, into your soul, “Eighty?” I lied. Or unworthy to receive a tear. What would you see? “I originally clocked you at 91, but as Would you see how you really are, I followed, I saw you reach 107. Were you More than Words trying to lose me?” the officer said. By Amanda Mendyk Or would you see how you would look from my eyes? “No sir. That was not my intention.” Well, which is it? Tell me now. At this point, I was helpless. I was done My heart starts to race. driving for a while. I had my driver’s license The temptation within me is ready to If you could see how I view you, only two weeks and already got a six-point explode. ticket for $280.50. I see you standing before me. What would you do to change my mind? If so, who’s it for, you or me? When I told my parents, they were Either way, you’re just the same. not as upset as I thought they would be. I look into your eye and smile. All I heard was, “We’re so disappointed in This fluttering feeling of contentment Why, you ask? How can I tell? you.” They said I had to pay the ticket and overwhelms me. enroll in a traffic safety school to get three You smile back. Well, if you do it just for me, It means that you want to change for points back. yourself. In the next four weeks, I woke up You hold my hand and gaze into my eyes. on Saturday mornings to go to traffic safety We start to get closer and feel our hearts If it’s just for you, the need to change, you really can’t. school. I typically worked from 3:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. to pay for the ticket. My court appearance was embarrassing; the judge reprimanded me longer than the drunk drivers. My face turned red while I was humiliated in front of the judge and the drunks. If one breaks the law, one has to live with the consequences. As a sixteen year old, I thought bad things only happened to others, but nothing would happen to me. This incident proved me wrong. It is easy to get caught breaking the law. Now I am responsible and will not make the same mistake. People make errors, but they are worthwhile if one learns from them. I am a better driver and smart enough not to put myself in situations where I could get into trouble. If I do something wrong, I will admit to it. I am not going to be the person denying something I did.

Kalli Krueger 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Rage By Anomymous Shapeshifter, Angel Emotion By Andrew Sisulak By Anonymous Suppress it, Control it, You see the face I reveal, but the emotion’s just a lie I could be anything you want me to, You understand embarrassment, but I don’t see it in Hide it, But it wouldn’t be true, your eyes. Force it, Deceiving my essence, You can see the emptiness I try so hard to cloak Love it, Slaying my dignity, behind my pride. I HATE IT Taking the form of what you truly desire, You can feel the loneliness I try so hard to hide Acting like I’m good enough just makes my love a lie Rage But it’s already here, Surrounded by mentality, wishing my pain would In front of you, simply die. Monitor it, And you’ve already taken its soul, Play with it, Thrashing it, Bottle it, Bruising it, Channel it, Rotting it Lost control of it, You understand, Rage Now I may return the act, As you so lovingly imposed upon mine, Catch a Falling Star Imply it, But I am not so cruel, By Natalie Wasilczuk Refine it, For you are human, Deny it, Just let me be your guy… the night we met I caught a star Supply it, (I crossed my yard to catch this star) Define it, And into the clouds I will carry you, it twinkled, hidden, soft and sweet On the wings you did reveal, I hoped no one else would see Rage Through the trials you took me through the next night, too, I caught a star Violent excitement (I crossed the street, it wasn’t far) Throbbing desire, Color of Water By Andrew Sisulak it joined its partner, pure and kind extreme suffering, these stars were warm; these stars were mine Rage Feel the warmth in the rain, As it falls, listen to each drop, as week by week they left the sky For they tell stories, (I chased the stars that fell from high) Tales of angles, and the Divinity What Have You Found and each one filled my room with light The beat as they hit the ground they gave me hopeful dreams at night By Alex Wank Explodes into colors Only your heart can see Flowers bloom now every night I catch a star (I cross the world to where they are) And rain falls down The tool of the mighty, I take my time to travel far The world changes The poison to the forgotten, I cannot live without my stars What have you found? These souls have the power to change, With every fall from the heavens, People wander They come to deliver us messages Time flies by The heart aches And as a flood they shall bury us, The children cry In an eternal love More powerful than the sword Life on the cold green hills of hell What have you found? And with more conviction than the judge Lies all around By Anonymous What can we believe in? Where will it begin? Nothing but sunshine Don’t need to hold my hand The birds in the air I’m fine The fish in the sea You’re the one casting the shadow cross How many lies have you told me? the land What have you found? Nothing but sunshine Smiling at the irony I hope it was kind to you No will left to exist Life can sometimes seem so blue Nothing but sunshine I never forgot what you said that day But when the sickness do come, The words I thought you couldn’t say A hoard of greed will flood the sea, And the pure of heart will run. What have you found? Nothing but sunshine Pain all around The rays pierce through the grey What did your future bring? The sun will set and all will see What have you found without me? The light early the next day. Without me. Kelsey Allard

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup When I Look At The WorldA collectionoccasionally he would see of some ofcre them ativity By Alex Wank stop and glimpse the truth of the world. Yet scene. Red rose petals drifted lazily in the none became like him. They would always breeze, beauty and happiness as far as he The sky was black as coals, with immediately return to their fantasy world. could see. The ground was covered with a fiery sun casting absolutely no light in The memory turning into a nightmare. green grass, which swayed in dance with the desolate wasteland. Dust was thrown He lived here for years, in this the gentle wind. savagely in the wind. Over the ground, dreadful place, wishing for release each Life was everywhere, animals the gloom and horror of this place was day. frolicking in the field and birds flying above. unnerving. The ground was aflame, embers And, like every other day in those But what caught the man’s eye was the girl glowing, flames licking the sky. many years, release never came. in the center of the meadow. Nothing was alive, only pawns and But this story has a happy ending. She was beautiful, with gorgeous robots wandering monotonously through One day, seemingly normal in this silky russet hair which dangled playfully these badlands. They believed they were awful existence, as the flames licked his over her amazingly large and deep brown free, except they were merely tools, living horribly scarred skin, a door appeared. eyes. She stood, revealing herself. She in a fantasy world. It was made of solid wood, with was built like a goddess, enough to make Yet one of them suddenly stopped. a golden knob. The man walked over any man crazy and to make every woman And saw the truth. to it and studied the thing because it jealous. He screamed, the flames searing his was strange, to say the least. It wasn’t She walked over to him and he flesh, thick black smoke billowing down his connected to anything, just standing upright hugged her. Her stunning scent entering throat, cutting off his voice. He attempted to in the middle of a patch of flames. And it his nostrils, the bond between them cry, but his tears were dried. His hair began wasn’t burning. unbreakable, having been coated with love to burn; his skin pink and bleeding pus. He walked over the embers and and pure joy. He wished for death, for release reached the door. Around it, the flames had “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, from this terrible place, yet death didn’t retreated, as if the door had some power her voice reminding him of musical notes come here. over them. He slowly stretched his charred and merriment. Over time the flames no longer hand to the door and grasped the handle. She kissed him, their lips erupting in bothered him, for they had burned off all of The handle was cold, a feeling he hadn’t passion. his nerve endings. Other things took the job felt in many years. Bliss. of disturbing him. The loneliness ate away But as he grasped the handle On that day, his view of the world at him, until he believed he no longer had a something else happened. His blistered changed. heart. He also stopped screaming because and burned right hand was clean, the skin Thanks to her. the fires took from him his voice. back with no sign of damage. On that day my view of the world He could see others walking. He He laughed, the sound reverberating changed. could even reach out to them, yet they around the wasteland. His eyes widened Thanks to you. never felt him. in shock, for he realized what he had just While he could no longer join done. He had laughed. them in their blissful existence, he could “I’m alive!” he shouted jubilantly. influence their world by tales of the truth. The man turned the handle in his grip, the door opening silently. Rethinking the Past He couldn’t tell of this reality, for his By Lily Grace voice was gone, but he could still write. Once the door was opened the man He would scratch out the truth on anything peered inside. I sit here crying on my bed he could find and stuff it into the others’ And saw the truth. Horrible thoughts run through my head. pockets or wherever it would stay on their The sky was pure blue, with Her cackling voice yells loud and clear, person. beautiful white clouds dotting the heavens, “You stupid brat, get over here” He knew it worked because a yellow sun casting its glorious glow upon the earth, a colorful rainbow framing the My own mother, how can this be? Though she’s estranged herself from me. She called me ugly, fat and dumb, The thought of her just makes me numb. Like a thousand waves crashing on sand My cuts run deeper with each reprimand The bindings loosen, the ropes start to break As pain and hurt I can no longer take. She lied to me, knowing the truth. I believed them all right through my youth. I was naïve, I was so blind To think that I controlled my mind. She reinvented my entire past So she’d direct the blame I cast On Dad for never being there When really he was everywhere. Now every memory I thought Was mine, really gets me distraught. It’s hard to think she has a heart, When she tore my world, my life apart.

Val VanTussi

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Then It Was Over It gives me hope, The Recital By Alex Wank It puts a great smirk on my face, By Lily Grace Yet you call me jerk, Then it was over And I respond, As I look out across the crowd Everything had disappeared With the slightest bowing of my head, They’re staring back at me. Not one thing left standing So our eyes do not meet, They judge me if I say a word Just as we all feared For if you knew, By what they see and what they’ve heard. Nobody listened If you could tell, Most of these lies, the things they say No one had cared That for one instant I wish we’d be together, Spread like wildfire through fields of hay, To them the world meant nothing The earth would quake, And then a low, dark, buzzing hum. And no one seemed to notice it Fires would rain down, My body, mind, and soul go numb. Our hearts to beat as one, Anticipation’s on the sea of faces staring Because it’s too late And wings would emerge, back at me. Everything is over now Because you’re my darlin’ little angel Upon the stage I stand and wait, just It’s too late! wanting to be free. Nothing is there no more One small dim light shines from above The life is gone I’m prepared to do something I love. And I couldn’t even say goodbye As tension fills the air like smoke Then you’re gone I cannot breathe, I just might choke. The music cuts the silence, I tried so hard to steer us from this Like butter with a knife I saw it coming And as I glide across the floor You didn’t see it The butterflies take flight. But now that means nothing I soar to the music, shun all their doubts, Everything is erased Put my soul in the dance; let my heart All that we knew come out, Now I’m standing here For this is my life, it’s just too much fun Alone through and through At the end of the music, I bow, then I’m done. Because it’s too late Everything is over now It’s too late! Nothing is there any more Acuestense: It’s Time to Wake up The life is gone By Andrew Sisulak And I couldn’t even say goodbye Then you’re gone Apologies are for the weak, Actions for the humble, Peer Into a Duo And truth for the robust, By Andrew Sisulak Me? I’m for you, Michelle Manthey Brothers and sisters, Don’t call me Hero, I couldn’t see the hope, I’d say I’d save your lives, There’d be no reason but greed But when the guns at your head, My Promise So keep your eyes open, I don’t know, By Lily Grace Your minds alert, For I have not been there, And throw your fists down, As words are words, If I could even think of one, Lift up your arms, Break they shall, I’d write a poem for you. And embrace your brethren, As a pane of glass I’d say how much I love your laugh, Heathen and Jew, Smashing to the ground And all the things you do. Muslim and Christian, From the rooftops I love the way you look at me, Buddhist and Satanist, The way you hold my hand, Mend races and religions, Don’t call me Genius, How you never say goodbye just once, Slay the intolerance, the impedance of your For what I do on paper, And you don’t like just one band. soul, May not be real, You never know just what to do For it is the only one you get, And what I say, Or what to say, that’s fine. And I wish to wish no harm upon you Just might all be a lie, The only thing I care about But as I am on my back, Is knowing that you’re mine! In this tomb of cloth, And mine is what you’ll always be .:Conversations;. I must think of you, Until the end of time, Kelsey Allard And what matters most, Through being healthy as can be In our hearts, Or greener than a lime. Why am i so quiet? Separated by my ignorance So are you sure, my darling Why isn’t she trying You want me to be your bride? I want to scream in her face Don’t call me Lover, I swear to god had you said no Can you even see me? For my acts, I think I would’ve died… No eye contact when I walk by My intentions, Well, since I’ve got you trying I just want to give up My feelings, I’ll take this chance to say Why do i feel this way, I cannot express to your face, That I love you forevermore Have I pushed her away And chaos it comes out, And then another day. Why cant i just say...... And your essence, We need to talk It’s what I look for, 2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled A luminous glow appears in the dark To Thine Muse By Natalie Wasilczuk Coming out from the wood By Alex Wank “Who goes there?” I bark I’m feeling alright, My question being good Are we growing closer? but I can’t ignore Or are we drifting apart? the feelings I felt A figure moves neatly Do you regret I called you? when you slammed that door; “My name is Vicky.” Or were we right from the start? and it wasn’t on me, She spoke sweetly but still I feel My vision beginning to trick me I took you out to dinner, you broke that heart And then you stole my heart. when you pressed in the seal. Gorgeous brown eyes I took you back to my house, And I cannot tell Awash in the glow Impaled by Cupid’s dart. if I’m happy or sad, Beauty telling no lies because seeing you lonely My heart about to blow Yes, I fell in love with you, is like seeing you dead. Looking deep inside your eyes. And I’m scared that my dream “I love you,” I mutter How I fell in love with you, could maybe turn real, She emits light from her smile Leaving behind old lies. and my terrified heart “From when I met you,” I stutter thinks you’ve lost your appeal Her hair fluttering all the while I never thought I could love, because it breaks when you frown, But now you’ve changed my mind. but these tears are denied She takes my hand I never want to leave you, dear, because no one should cry And kisses my lips Your love for me too kind. for two others’ goodbye. The lights erupts in the land Making my life bliss I never thought I’d say this, Taking it Back But I need you in my life. By Lily Grace Dry Eyes I know it’s early to say this, But I want you as my wife. My insides are churning, I’m falling apart By Natalie Wasilczuk Because you don’t understand the pain in You’re as free as any human, my heart. Lonely eyes and a half-hearted smile; More beautiful than most. Since you just won’t listen, I can’t make you I can only hope you’ll feel better tomorrow, Your perfection everlasting, see Because nothing hurts more than your half- Your character to toast. What’s deepening this riff between you and concealed frown. me. You hold in the tears because dry eyes I love you, my Vicky, I wish I could tell you, wish you could hear can’t drown. The sweetest girl of all. The heart-wrenching sound of each I love you, my Vicky, dropping tear Fill your eyes, if it helps, My heart took the fall. But you refuse to listen, deny me the To clean out the sadness. chance Make room for the stars, You are the best thing to ever happen, To explain what I feel, pull you out of your Please see what could be ours. To this old bum named Wank. trance. You’ve given me the gift of love, In your own little world, you can do nothing And your cries will soothe you, dry eyes, For which I need to thank. wrong And your tears can bring you back, And yet here I have cried much too hard, Because once you let it all out, love, And now I need to hug you, much too long. You’re free to take some back. Kiss you, my dear. I’m now kicking you out of my heart and my I want to hold and love you, soul Pray with me that tomorrow’s not broken, Until the morning’s here. I’m getting my life back under my control. And nothing will empty the words I have spoken. And sing me a tune that will give me some faith, Wright Night With the stars in your eyes and the smile By Alex Wank on your face.

Entrancing oddities dance up above Tell me words, if you can, Within the desolate deep That will bring back the stars, Calling out that of my beloved That will cure the pain, A name that hope can’t keep And spark a new flame.

No clouds within this empty sky And the words you let out, dry eyes, The moon behind the light Will extinguish all your fears, Tonight there are no stars that fly Because once the old fire dies, love, Only the darkness known as night A new one will mist your tears.

Movement causes me to turn A wave beyond the trees The ground is covered by tall ferns Which brings me to my knees Karly Pearson

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Love Never Dies on the last of my time.” rumpled brown hair. He was clean-shaven, By Alex Wank “Don’t say that, darling. You look just with a sculpted chin and bony features. as you did on our first date.” To say he was pale would have been “I’ll always love you,” Eleanor cooed. “Smooth-talker,” Eleanor giggled, an understatement. He was white as paper, “I’ll love you forever,” Michael becoming a teenager once more. his face and hands glowed in the darkness. replied, his heart swelling as he gazed into “Better warn your parents about me, “I won’t let you take her,” Michael the soft eyes of his bride. He had been miss,” Michael teased, kissing her cheek. spoke, his voice devoid of fear. taught the secrets of love from this woman “You’ll never let time bring you down, “I admire what you’re doing, I really and, even more, she had given him the gift will you?” Eleanor smiled. “That’s why I do,” the pale man spoke, closing the car’s of pure bliss for the past sixty-four years love you.” door. “But it’s just her time. There’s nothing that they had been married. “And I love you,” Michael replied. I can do.” True, from time to time they argued, “Forever?” “You can get in that car and go back as all couples do, yet the bonds of their “Forever.” where you came from,” Michael growled, love were unbreakable. They met when “Good. Now, where was I?” lifting the rifle. Michael was a senior in high school, in their “Your grandfather had died and no “You really think that’ll do anything?” small southern Illinois town, on a double one could come because of the storm.” The man asked. “Besides, I can’t go back date. Eleanor had been the other bloke’s “Oh yes. So you see, my father’s without her.” girl, but that didn’t last. Michael became her bedroom was right next to his father’s “Take me instead,” Michael spoke, close friend and eventually the two began room. In the middle of the night he woke setting his rifle down. dating. When Michael began being paid to the sound outside. The sound of an “You?” The man asked, surprised. enough in his factory job to start a family, engine.” “But you’re not due for ten years.” he proposed to Eleanor. “Stop right there,” Michael “Then just divide my time, give her They were married within two interrupted. “A car? Those weren’t invented half. Leave us alone for five years.” months and have been living happily yet!” “It doesn’t work that way.” together since. Michael, being the “My point exactly. But my father “So what can I do?” hardworking man that he was, made his could describe it perfectly because he “Let me take her.” way to eventually owning the factory, saw it out the window. It was a large black “I won’t do that.” retiring two years before with enough object, with two beams of light coming from “There’s no other way.” money saved away to live the rest of their the front. As he stared, a door opened and “There has to be.” days peacefully. The couple had a child, a pale man in a black suit with a bowler hat “I’m sorry,” the man spoke, the one boy, who was now grown and the head stepped out.” sorrow in his voice speaking truth. of his own family, with two beautiful girls. “That was him?” Michael asked, Michael closed his eyes, his decision While everything was fine, within unable to hide his wonder. made. the past year they had begun to discuss “Yes, I’m sure of it. The man got out “Take me too.” their mortality. Eleanor had come to the of the car and looked directly at my father. “What?” conclusion that, due to her heart problems, He grinned at him and that was the end of “You have to take her. I’m coming she would reach the other side before her the story.” with.” love. Michael disagreed, telling her that “That was the end?” “You know,” the pale man replied, they would die together, in their sleep. Yet “The next thing my father knew it nodding, “that can work.” still, he knew, as the doctors reminded him, was morning. His father was gone. The “Then do it.” he was in perfect health while Eleanor’s only proof of his story was some strange The car’s engine started up. was slowly deteriorating. tracks in the road.” “I’ll always love you,” Michael “How do you think he’ll come for “Strange.” whispered, grabbing Eleanor’s hand, as me?” Eleanor asked, wonder on her face. “But true,” Eleanor insisted. they sat together in the backseat. “I wouldn’t be able to say,” Michael “I believe you, love,” Michael replied, “I’ll love you forever,” she replied, replied, knowing exactly to whom she was kissing her again. kissing him, as the car’s taillights referring. “But I bet he’ll greet you as a All was well for the next month, but disappeared into the night. gentleman.” then Eleanor’s health began to fail at an “My father told me that when he was alarming rate. She had been right, her time a boy, he met him.” was soon up. Sweet Camping Trip “Really?” Michael asked, shocked. It was a warm June night when she By Melissa Sikora “You’ve never told me that before.” passed away, peacefully, in her sleep. “Oh? I’m sure I have.” Eleanor Michael woke when he could no longer feel “Look at the Milky Way.” blinked, rubbing her head at the same time. her soft heart beat. There was a terrible “It’s just Dots in the sky.” “I’m positive I have. You remember that silence when he came to the dreaded “You’re such an Airhead.” my grandfather died when my father was conclusion, yet then it was suddenly broke. “Well at least I’m not a Nerd!” fifteen?” By a low rumbling noise, reminiscent “Go in the tent and get a Hershey’s Bar. “Now that you’ve told me before.” of an engine. We’ll make s’mores.” “Well, when he passed away, my Michael was up immediately, out the “Oops! I dropped it.” father was in the room. Holding his hand, front door in seconds with his rifle in hand. “Butterfingers!” in fact. It was in the middle of a snowstorm, Sure enough, there, snaking its way down “Hey! Look in the lake. There’s Swedish so no one could come for the body that the long dusty driveway, was a large black Fish.” night. They had to close the bedroom door car. The headlights gleamed in the warm “Let’s go for a Fun Dip with them.” and wait until morning.” night, illuminating the old man and his “It was much different than when we weapon. The car pulled in near the house grew up,” Michael acknowledged. and the engine turned off, along with the “It’s a different time now,” Eleanor lights. The door opened and he stepped replied. out. “Please, dear, we’re not that old.” He was tall and lanky, dressed in “You might not be, but I’m running a black suit. He wore a bowler hat over

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity My Promise below his mouth, which was now stretched Release your inhibitions, By Lily Grace into a smile that clearly showed his pointed, Awaken to your sense of ordered chaos, yet blindingly white teeth. His eyes glowed Let your feet paint the canvas with your If I could even think of one, yellow while his black hair was slicked individuality, I’d write a poem for you. back. I’d say how much I love your laugh, “I can see why you come here, And scream the lyrics of the suffering, And all the things you do. Daniel Moore. It’s wonderful.” How had he As you have drank from the fountain of I love the way you look at me, known my name? “Yes, it’s perfect out here. luck, The way you hold my hand, You can just sit down, relax, and then the And received its blessing, How you never say goodbye just once, blood...” He looked right into my eyes, and it You don’t know their pain, And you don’t like just one band. was unnerving, yet I didn’t look away. “…the Yet you sleep in my wake, You never know just what to do glorious blood…” The intensity in his eyes Or what to say, that’s fine. built, and I felt as if he was looking directly Believe in yourself, The only think I care about inside my soul. “…will flow!” He finished As he would want, Is knowing that you’re mine! finally breaking the gaze, his arms reaching As you are more powerful than you believe And mine is what you’ll always be towards the sky. As he yelled the clouds You can do it, Until the end of time, broke open, releasing gallons of blood upon You are that which is the leash Through being healthy as can be the field. He laughed all the while it poured Or greener than a lime. upon us, until I was deep inside a river of And I plead you, So are you sure, my darling blood. But I could still hear him. O beautiful people, You want me to be your bride? “I shall see you soon, Daniel.” As he Take a drink from His Chalice, I swear to god had you said no spoke my name everything went black. The one o so holy, I think I would’ve died… I awoke in a cold sweat, the dream Thought to be lost, Well, since I’ve got you trying still vivid behind my eyes. But has been ever-present I’ll take this chance to say This dream had been repeating for Whenever his Sacrifice given, That I love you forevermore several days, yet this time was different. I And you have received, And then another day. could feel something warm in my clenched How could you be so blind, fist. I slowly opened my hand, sending a Dream shockwave though my very core. I care not who you are, By Alex Wank There, in the center of my palm, lay Just that you may share the cadaver of a dead dove. What he desires most, Solace. Comfort. As I lay on the You shall not preach, grass, basking in the warm summer breeze, Fall from your pedestal, the beauty of nature loomed around me. You who preach but do not act, The tall, majestic oaks swayed slowly in the A Detailed Study of Seasoned American Bigot, I call you, wind, dancing to the cricket’s violin serenade. By Anna Quint Though I am not Judge The fluffy clouds crept through the blue sky, I merely wash his feet natural theater for anyone who would care When it comes time to wade in water, to look. In the clearing of which I lay, I felt The kin choose to stay with the Sire. Untitled at ease. I had no problems, no obstacles in To left or right follows the daughter. By Mallory Zimmermen my path. The comforting calls of birds gave Divided by invisible wire. the days their own soundtracks, never the How do you start to say something same. Here my mind was blank, true peace The families wade under the boat, that cannot be said, something that is was felt. Then everything changed. Where worms look real and bobbers don’t unpronounceable? The warm breeze blew ice, chilling float. my very core. I shivered, as the white clouds Trusting the man in the dark black coat, These things around me, in me, myself blocked the sun, turning the sky to an eerie Hooks lurk in water, better not choke. included, make no sense. There is no darkness. The calls of birds and nature semblance of logic left for me, just writhing ceased almost at once, sending the area A tasty grub wiggled, squirmed, fought; madness in bright colors—RED, YELLOW, into an unnatural silence. I slowly stood, my The trout has not eaten for some time. GREEN, ORANGE. Things so bright and unreal, knees creaking. The long grass around me Fisherman smiles, the fish is caught. so basic they make me think of a child’s was dead, yellow where it had been green Money is law, killing is no crime. drawings; dark triangles pressed against a seconds before. The trees were all now flat blue sky. These colors are vulgar, they burning, each leaf ablaze, giving the clouds With schools of a hundred or greater, are madness. above a reddish tint. The smell of fresh The lone trout can change it to the same. oxygen was replaced by that of burning The suits will just account him later, Nothing strings days together, much less embers. Just as they did before to the grain. events. There’s no regulation, no sense, no As I watched the redness seemed to straight lines to map the universe in all this build in the clouds, until the clouds seemed The boat with the most trout underneath fallout. Time is bent and elastic; in some to be overflowing. As the first droplet landed Sells its banquet to the fleshy sphere. places it stretches thin and strained like on my hand, I saw it closer. It was a deep red Trout are displayed as deserving wreath, tights on a fat woman’s calf, and in some it color and had a strange metallic smell. The Or unworthy to receive a tear. was sandwiched over on itself and melted sky was raining blood, yet it was sporadic, in the middle. The world has gone mad, not raining more than a few drops at a time. Andrew Sisulak and I have gone with it. “Delightful, isn’t it?” The words were Voice to the Silent filled with maniacal glee and originated There’s a chasm in my mind, and if I look directly behind me. I turned around slowly, Dance to the music, into it, I can see the universe. and sure enough, there stood the man who The poetry of life, had just spoken. He was about six feet tall, For you have been fools, one hundred and thirty pounds. He wore a Withering your lives away as clones, black suit and a red tie, which seemed to Kept up inside, strangely fit our location. His face was thin, his2007-2008 nose short and sharp. He had a goatee Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Sirius Problems descended, covering him in its billowy Heart-Shaped Box By Alex Wank folds. At once the cloud rose, the only evidence of the doctor being his shoes, He thinks he loves her, but he can no longer be sure. The way it seemed, he Some may call me crazy. sitting in the center of my driveway, was going to make her his, seal her away They may be right. I slowly closed the door, shivering, forever in his heart-shaped box. But now My name is Eric. I’m not comfortable and went back to my room. he can’t see the spark in her, now he giving out my last name. It’s nothing “He should have listened,” I questions his actions and wonders why he against you; I just don’t want my full name muttered, staring out the window at the changed tactic. She had been a new love, in the public eye. fluffy white clouds. not like the others. But now… What I will reveal; however, is that I You see, it was generally hard for him to am fifteen years old. I’m a relatively normal Midnight Suns think, and he supposes this kept the ones kid, or at least I once was. By Alex Wank he loved away from him before; somehow, Before they came. the failing leaked out of his brain and I don’t remember a time before The bright red meteor streaked across stained his face, making him unappealing. them, when the Fear wasn’t living inside the pale blue sky, a long white tail swaying He has great ideas sometimes (fathoms, me. But my parents seem to remember, behind it in the empty space. As it entered the atmosphere, debris he is fond of calling them), but most of the which they constantly tell me of. Now, don’t of all sizes began to break off the enormous time his brain seems to be spinning on its get me wrong here, the only change was asteroid, accompanying the rock to the own axis, tumbling away from his body. inside me. The world is the same, a dark earth. Lucid thoughts are like bolts of electricity, place, but I will no longer go outside. One hundred miles to the ground the waking up his entire body and making him Okay, that’s a lie. I’ll go outside, but flame grew larger and the meteor began active—he smiles now as he pictures it, never when I can see them, the clouds. to glow from the heat. Looking up from the bolts of mental electricity shooting through Those menacing fiends lazily drifting ground, an average eye could make out the his body, spreading life and color. It’s above, it sickens me. I have no doubt that shape, falling towards Earth. easy to imagine this because he’s having you find me strange for fearing clouds but Fifty miles. The shape looked larger a lucid period. These sometimes last for if you have seen what I have, you would now, from this height seeming the size of hours, sometimes days. He equates it, dread them too. a basketball. One could only guess how immense it was, it’s size incomprehensible. now, as waking from a sleep devoid of It was early in the Fear, soon after Even from here, its heat could be felt on the dreams, mind and body refreshed and the I realized the clouds for what they were. ground. stony stretch of life’s road ahead suddenly I would tremble at the very sight of a One mile. The shape utterly gigantic bursting with possibility. And of course he cloud and scream if my parents forced in size, easily larger than a football field, and is busy as a beaver, working and thinking me outside. At the end of their rope, my it was falling directly over a dense forest. because the thoughts push at the sides of parents brought in the child psychologists. Boom. his skull and he is sometimes certain he After ten failed, my parents hired one man The explosion was unlike anything the earth will explode. He doesn’t know what would named Dr. Neville Holden to speak with had ever seen. It sent rocks, dirt, trees, and happen, should he explode; all his life his me. other rubble sprawling at least one hundred brain seemed useless as a shriveled raisin Dr. Holden was different, to say kilometers away. Any creatures doomed (except, of course, for these bright periods). the least. He had written an essay enough to be under it were destroyed instantly. The crash sent out a shock wave, He can never decide if his fundamental which rocked the science world and tearing up vegetation and anything in its uselessness would result in a great rush had appeared on the cover of People path for several miles. of compressed air, or if these moments tell magazine, where they described him as a If there were any creature, any creature yet of a deeper, wetter mass in the cave of his “modern Aristotle crossed with Einstein.” alive, they would have seen the great rock head, resulting in an explosion to make a It went directly to his head. glow an eerie yellow light. The blaze radiated horror-movie buff proud. His ego the size of the sun, it was evil, sending out visions of destruction and no surprise when his anger surfaced during horror that the world had not yet seen. Still, he sighs, there must be work done, our first session, when I reluctantly told him Almost as soon as the flash appeared, it and then he must do a lot of thinking about about the clouds. disappeared, in its place a newly formed what he had gone and done. “Absurd!’ He shouted, his moustache crevice in the rock face. bouncing above his lips. “Clouds are As the sky began to return to normal, the few small animals that had survived the crash Just as he rises from the seat, his legs nothing to fear!” crept out of their holes to stare at the rock. crumble and he falls back again with a To prove his point, he grabbed me A new thing had begun to happen – through sudden huff of air. His eyes roll, surprised, by the wrist and dragged me to the door. the fissure, smoke and other gas flowed to stare at the ceiling, searching for some “Please, no,” I pleaded, but he through. Another light, this one radiating entity, or just a strand of belief. He has continued. He clutched the handle of the from within the meteor, glowed blue. As the always believed in signs and he takes this door and, throwing it open, turned back to small animals watched, a figure began to one to mean that the thinking must be done me. exit through the crack. now. Biting at the tail of this thought came “There is nothing to be afraid of, It was about five feet tall, standing another, a gut-ripping fear. If the thinking Eric,” he told me – the sniveling child at upright. It held itself up with two legs, is to be done, does that mean he is going his feet. “Stay here and you shall see.” He using another two arms for balance. The to slip back into another blank period? He released his grip on my wrist and strode creature was soon followed by another, and then another, hundreds of them eventually fears this time, fears becoming simple and outside, standing in the middle of my emerging. placid, unable to think or react. He fears the driveway. “You see? It is perfectly safe.” Very soon these creatures gained hibernation his brain takes. But most of all, My eyes widened as I spotted the power in this small planet, eventually he fears the emotion. These hibernations cloud hovering above him. becoming the leaders. are when he falls in love again, when he “Please come back in,” I whispered, What of the creatures? Therein lays vies for the heart and soul of another pretty barely able to speak. the frightening truth. lady (though he knows now it is generous “Not until you admit that all of this is The creatures are humans. calling these girls ladies). This is when the nonsense!” He shrieked. We are the creatures. dangerous flow of emotions opens up, and Without warning, the cloud

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity he cannot possibly think into the future. He runners to their upward ends. and first touches her shoulder, then takes supposes, now musing in the rocking chair, her hand. Her dull eyes do not even roll that this is when the vicious cycle starts. Slowly he becomes aware of this, and towards him. He is still smiling, numbed by He loves these women (these girls), he slows down. His mind is coming out of joy and passion to her state. He pulls her can’t let them go when his mind is so far the cloud of emotion; he forces himself to up, though her feet do not move well, and gone from the rest of them, and they are, stop rocking so vigorously, though being leads her outside to visit the girls. at the time, equally attuned to him (he has, still makes him nervous. He calms himself on some subconscious level, developed down as best he can, and tilts his head like To him, she is an angel of a completely the skill to pull the weak, previously injured a dog, listening to the quiet of the house. different dimension, too strange by this ones from the herd, like some carnivorous She is here, he knows where he left her, reality’s standards to be accepted. To her, animal). and she will not leave unless he goes with he is a vague shape, a guiding hand, a her, but she is silent and it bothers him a voice she cannot understand. And when his mind comes back to him, great deal. Together, they are backlit by the afternoon he knows that he must keep them from sun as they shuffle into the woods. running from him; he must stop their fear, But no…how has he come to second- the only way possible. guess his hard work and careful planning, he wonders? Is he merely troubled by The Treasures of My Name But now, he isn’t so sure of what he has the break from habit? He supposes so, it By Annie Losinke done. This is not in the norm; it is, in fact, had always bothered him in the past, and almost frighteningly strange. Is this girl he never met trouble through doing what I am Anna-banana, the sun coming out different? He cannot decide. Too many became comfortable. Now his mind cannot tomorrow. I have the sweet inside music thoughts press against the confines of his accept this change, and it has made him of the orphan girl, but I never had the skull, strangling his vein of consciousness worrisome and nervous. loneliness she did in life. The feeling in the and jumbling up the important thoughts What is done is done, and it will be for the pit of your stomach when you know it will tucked deep down somewhere. She better. He knows it, he feels it, and he tries be a party of one. No, my family’s loving seems, to him, to be different; the way her to push the nervousness away. He doesn’t arms are always around me. They teach skin lit up in the sun, the way her hand want to doubt any longer, it gets him me never to give up on what I believe in. ghosted over his face like butterflies— nowhere, and he will only be this lucid for delicate and flighty—the way she did not so long. While it still does not feel entirely My grandmother was the one they named shun the assumption of his shriveled-raison comfortable with him, it creates this strange me after. Anna. Over time it softened brain. He could not dare to do to her what itching, grating sensation in the back of into Annie. I’m told I have my grandma’s he did to the others, he had to preserve his mind, he knows that he can try to learn intellect and her positive view of things in her in simple innocent beauty, lock her in a to enjoy it. She is, after all, truly his now; life. heart-shaped box to which only he had the he has taken her and re-written her in a key, only he could draw her out and enjoy language only he can translate, a language She was Anna Augusta. I am more simple, her again. The others, he muses, were that speaks to no heart but his. He smiles Anna Katherine. It can sound a bit stuffy, superficial beauties with no substance. warmly, handsomely, at this thought. but I enjoy the formal ring of it too. The They were lovely, yes, and he loved them, importance those words carry. yes, but he could not keep them, and so he He has a vague thought of what will had to take them away. happen when he becomes simple again. A name can consist of only a few letters but Usually, by that time, he has taken the hold so much more hidden meaning and He was so sure of this girl, so sure she was previous love and filed her away so she underlying secrets. Like a buried treasure. the one. He believes in signs and believes could never leave him and would always in the one— the single soul custom-fitted remain close to his heart, and re-entered by some higher force to fit right in against bitter society in search of the one. His your soul. And that, he thought, was here. digression from the habit has nullified this But now he second-guesses himself, course of action, and he can only remain something he tries so hard not to do. This here with her, though he is not sure of what has not turned out as he had first imagined. will result. The beautiful butterfly hands venture to his face no more. The gentle voice does Now he rises, smiling still, mostly at ease not speak; it seems trapped in her chest, with his future path. His mind is alight with unable to escape. The eyes are the worst— possibility; he plans to take her, before where compassion and intelligence had it gets dark and the mosquitoes become filled deep romance-dark eyes, there is heavy, to see the other girls, in their beds nothing. Now, he almost wishes for her to with limestone headboards and root have mind enough to hate him. mattresses. He wants to show her she is special, and fancy she still understands Suddenly he leans forward, head cradled (he briefly entertains the thought that she in cupped palms and elbows perched on is too special now, and transcends their knees. His voice escapes him in a helpless axis of reality, making her incapable of scream of indecision, to which there is no understanding anything but his presence, answer. He feels he cannot possible fill up and this thought makes him shiver with that horrible void, that void he created, and joy). it smothers him alive. What if he only halted her, not preserved her? What if his good He opens a door with aging, whiney hinges intentions led him down the path to Hell? and steps into the darkened kitchen. Fear constricts his chest and chokes off the She waits for him at the table, eyes vacant, Megan Woodwards second scream. He is rocking dramatically arms curled defensively to her chest. She in the chair, riding the smooth curved makes no sound when he approaches her

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity The Gas Station of Doom No possessions…. and crawl under. By the end of the day it’s By Annie Losinske just me against me. But by morning, the We are united, pointless but very dramatic heart stabbing- Morgan Wesley and her daughter Paige As such, real competition starts all over again until were on their way home from a four day stay I am linked with all, I remember I’m competing myself for the at Aunt Peggy’s house in Moylan, Indiana. Our pain, attention of the one I love. It’s me against The drive home was bound to be a long and Our joy, me... fighting for attention. treacherous one. Paige was not one to sit Our life, still and this ride home was about six hours. All one, Morgan was just praying that everything would Queen Bee go well. They set out at about 9:30 AM after I did not believe, Mallory Zimmermen approximately twenty minutes of goodbyes. I was artificial, It was one of those hot sticky days when the Style mattered, It was a low noise that caught her ear. morning dew seems to linger long past its But what is Something quiet and menacing in the distance. welcome. Morgan could tell that this was going That which is molded from shadows to turn out to be a long day. The streets were empty. They spanned below After about two hours in the car, and So I profess, the steel trees of a concrete jungle at precise about eighteen rounds of “I Spy”, Paige had Stand strong, right angles to each other. Every so often had enough. For the past two hours all they As one, a large pileup would clog the road and she had seen was plains, tall grass, and a few cows. Souls together, would turn back. There was no way to become This was surely not enough to keep a six-year- Arms linked, confusedly lost there, just horribly misplaced old busy. Then the dreaded words came, All equal in the seemingly endless white noise of past “Mommy, I need to go potty.” And no earth shall move under your feet destruction. Morgan had not seen a building for the last forty-five minutes or so. She knew this The days of fighting for pride were over. The could not be a good sign. Oddly enough, within days of fighting for life had yet to start. five minutes, she spotted an old 7-Eleven. She quickly signaled and pulled in. The windows The low noise came again. It sounded distinctly had a musky yellow tint and the gas pumps like a growl but she dismissed it. There were looked like they hadn’t been used in decades. no animals here. Even the sky-rat pigeons had Morgan thought it will have to do. When they blown the coop during the last weeks. Perhaps walk in, the only person there is a boy, about a door with un-oiled hinges groaned into the twenty four, sitting behind the counter. The silence. Perhaps... boy has thick glasses and a sweaty forehead. Morgan asks where the restroom is. Perhaps her lonely footsteps were waking the “Head to ‘da back, first door on ‘da dead. right.” “Paige, you head back there and I’m But that was silly-talk. She was the only one to going to get us some snacks.” see the dead grey of the future nobody wanted Paige nods her head in agreement and Karly Pearson to realize. What would the dead want to wake for? There was nothing left... shuffles to the back of the store. Morgan begins Untitled to ponder the assortment of candy bars. Anonymous After about seven minutes, Morgan A line from a movie occurred to her then. You are a lord among insects. Indeed, she appeared begins to get a little worried. So, she wanders Everyday, I feel like I’m in a hard to be. A Queen among the dead; the highest toward the bathroom door. She knocks twice competition for love against all these being for miles around; with her throne of but gets no response. She jiggles door handle people. A competition for attention, which twisted metal and crown of glass shards. and it opens easily. Morgan stands in shock in my mind demonstrates love. I’m always for a moment. There is no bathroom. The so afraid that he loves her more than me, They were all dead now. Every. Last. One. door leads out into the back lot of the store. that he would rather laugh with her than be The heaviness of the thought weighed on her She yells for Paige, but is interrupted by the with me, that he would rather spend time although it all seemed very unreal. Just another sound of a car starting up. She peers around with her than with me. Does he even see horror movie in high definition, VERY high the corner and sees Paige inside this strange all of this that he is putting me through by definition. truck while it is speeding away. She had always choosing to hang out with her over me? heard stories of kidnapping. People would I put myself in a competition, and try to The woman watched the low cloud of oily leave their children carelessly when there are in beat her at everything for his attention. black smoke rise in the distance. Why she, unfamiliar situations. She had always secretly I put myself in a competition to win his out of millions, had been spared to wander pledged to herself that this would not happen to heart like a pathetic game. I put myself inside America’s giant shrapnel wound was a her. She sees now that she should have made in a competition against her to try and question for the heavens. She really didn’t care. that promise a little louder. show how much I love him. By the end of It was enough that she had to sleep in the dead the race, I figure out that it was just me The Link silence, much less wonder why. Why was a all along, competing against myself, and By Andrew Sisulak stupid question to ask when there was nobody worrying about losing the whole time, when to answer. I should have been thinking about how to I am but one part of the System, win his heart and not about losing my own I did not choose this, Something crashed with the light, chime-like useless competition. I realize that the only But somehow I am free, rain of glass. Her head snapped sharply towards person I’m competing against is myself the sound. Bright blue eyes widened. A hank of And the only person I’m making it hard for We have no choices, matted, unwashed hair hung down in front of is myself. There is no competition; it’s just No brains, them. She didn’t bother pushing it away as she the obstacles I’m making myself jump over No bodies, bolted down the next street.

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity off to one side like listening dogs. Help Another low growling noise. Most definitely By Alex Wank closer. Her feet flew over the upset wrinkles The woman knew they were zombies. They didn’t look like Hollywood zombies, not in of cement. The street was broken and jagged. The soldier ducked behind the door. Bullets the least bit. They were pale of flesh and gone The toe of her sneaker caught on a chunk of instantly ravaged the walls. He had been of mind, yes...but they looked too intelligent rubble and soon the actions of her body and caught off guard; his best friend killed the to be hunting flesh and brains. At least...not feet switched places. She was flying, falling, day before by a roadside bomb. The soldier her flesh and brains. She stood with her fear landing, crashing. Her palms scraped along the heard a shrill cry and peeked into the room. draining, horribly embarrassed because she was uneven ground. Soon they would be oily with Dead Iraqi’s lay with a man standing over certain she’d just wet herself. With a sick bit of blood, but that was a far way from her panicked them. The man saluted the soldier and compassion she noticed that some appeared to mind. For a moment she felt almost mouse-like, vanished. small and cowering in a hostile world of secret be holding hands. fearful wonders. Strike Three They watched her without a glimmer in their Rachel Kellicute She twisted around to scan her surroundings lifeless eyes (or lack thereof), and she saw her frantically. Silence and desolation. No apparent place in this new old world. The end of the battle had come. It was threat. No walking dead, no vengeful beings, one on one, and I was in control. I planned no little green men in tinfoil suits. The woman Queen bee. Queen of the damned. With throne to do it in three shots. I let the first two stood slowly, shaking and nearly weeping with of twisted metal and crown of broken glass. explode, both times slicing the edge of emotional strain. She simultaneously scolded Lord among insects. my anticipated target. One more would do herself for paranoia and comforted herself it. The final shot was flawless. It was the as best she could. A low crackling of fire She looked over their heads (apparently even perfect victory. comforted her as the white noise of radio static zombies needed one because there appeared sometimes did. She crossed her arms below her to be no decapitated creatures around) at the The End breasts and cupped her elbows. She stepped destruction of the city. They turned, slowly at Rachel Kellicut forward to leave and— first, and soon they were all looking towards the hazy horizon. Smoke filled the streets. My eyes stung and —Cold hands gripped her throat and pulled her cried tears of irritation that seemed to be backwards. She fell into a pulse-less mass of The woman swallowed the lump that had risen infinite. Blackened faces huddled together growling flesh, feeling the ripping as her hot high into her throat (her constricted neck sang in corners. Bodies sprawled along street blood rushed down her chest— in pain as she did) and stepped into their ranks. corners. Occasional screams could be heard, but no one took any notice. Building —Her eyes shot open. For a moment all was It was only right. burned and crumbled with each agonizing dark and comfortless. Slowly the grayness of step I took. It was the end of the world. the new old world drifted in and shot through They were dead people... in fuzzy images. A garbage can overturned and dented on one side. A newspaper fluttering in That wanted a place in a dead world. the listless breeze. Her palms throbbed lowly, as did her neck. She looked down at the raw red scrapes and felt a stab of sick déjà vu. She told herself her neck was roasting in slow, warm pain from sleeping on the cold ground in a heap. She told herself she fell and knocked herself out. She told herself there were going to be others, alive others. She told herself she was not alone in this ongoing nightmare of threadbare sanity.

All in all, she told herself a lot of things.

Slowly, the confused woman, now shaking John Gill anew, let her bruised fingertips brush the flesh Megan Woodward of her neck. Her throat was puffed horribly with swelling, probably covered in dark bruises to boot. Her heart caught in her windpipe and made it hard to breath.

She rose up shakily onto her feet. She was at a dead-end of wrecked cars and tumbled brick. Slowly the woman turned, afraid to twist her head too far in case it should bother the thick tube of swelled flesh that collared her throat.

They stood dim and silent in the grey day. They stared with their glazed white marbles of eyes. Even those missing one or both of the aforementioned orbs still watched her through wide dark sockets. They made a solid semicircle around her. She screamed harshly, but they remained impassive. Some cocked their heads Megan Woodward Michelle Manthey

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity Untitled Rachel Kellicut

I clench the crimson rose in my bare hand. I don’t even flinch as the thorns dig deep into my flesh. Looking down I realize my hand matches the deep red color of the rose petals. Over time the cuts will turn into scars. Each scar taking away one that lies on my heart.

Brad Gundrum Michelle Manthey

Britnee Brauer

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity

Eclectic Soup Announces Winners

Eclectic Soup, AHS Literary Magazine, would like to thank everyone who has submitted their pieces of creativity over the 2007-2008 school year. Listed are the winners from this year: Cover: 1st Maggie Knoebel 2nd Kendall Koepke 3rd Amanda Kuehn 4th Niki Fischer Story: 1st Alex Wank 2nd Lily Grace Art: 1st Andrew Lindenberg 2nd Kelsy Allard Photo: 1st Megan Woodward 2nd Britnee Brauer Poem: 1st Elliot Jungbluth 2nd Matt Axberg A special thanks also to the Editors Michelle Manthey, Mallory Zimmermann and Natalie Wasilczuk.

Writers Artist

Candace Mallory Megan Woodward Matthew Axberg Britnee Brauer Zach Trepanier Andrew Lindenberg Natalie Wasilczuk Valerie Van Tussi Andrew Sisulak Michelle Manthey Shelby Brehmer Kelsey Allard Shelley Grosch Mallory Zimmermann Anna Quint Joh Gill Brad Gundrum Alex Wank Kalli Kruger Karly Pearson Karly Pearson Brianne Becke Grace Collura Andy Dix Elliot Junbluth Aaron Gnas Kayla Herrea Amanda Mendyk Kevin A. Manthey David Haddix Lily Grace Kelsey Allard Melissa Sikora Annie Losinske

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity

2007-2008 Eclectic Soup A collection of creativity

2007-2008