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The Savvy Salamander is a literary electronic magazine published annually by the South Carolina Virtual Charter School. Art and literature contained herein is created solely by South Carolina Virtual Charter School students, grades 9-12. Title Origination: DaAsia Johnson Cover Design: Chandni Amin Artists Note: "Leviathan Dreams" is a graphic art file. Picmonkey was used as editing software, and the background original picture was from http://photos.murphyz.co.uk/Other/ Around-and-About/i-qgGVSfL/2/XL/_-16-XL.jpg and the figures (the creatures in the sky, the creature with the teacup, the lady) were drawn by Keith Thompson and edited into the picture by me. Advisors: Susan Brewer, Lisa Staley, and Melissa DAnnunzio Head of School: Dr. Cherry Daniel Director, Secondary Administration: Dr. Phil Flynn Special Acknowledgements: Melissa DeWalk for her IT expertise in creating the High School Blog page and linking this publication, and Michelle Patterson for distributing this electronic art magazine to students via kmail.

2013

Author Table of Contents

Digital/Graphic Art Jasmine DaValle..14 Marissa A. Page...26 Chandni Arwen Amin....32, 56 Rachel Parris Fuhrman....26 James Dallas Porter.....43 Drawing Joy Elizabeth Neil.....10, 49 Rachel Parris Fuhrman......19, 25 Hawwa K. Muhammad...29 Painting Jasmine DaValle..5, 17 Rachel Parris Fuhrman....7, 35 Marissa A. Wagstaff......16, 18 Ashley Marie Ash Barfield.....23 Hawwa K. Muhammad........37 Joy Elizabeth Neil.....13, 54 Photography Hawwa K. Muhammad..11, 45 Jasmine Breanne Lane...12, 33 Carmen Cromer.....15, 24 Chandni Arwen Amin....15, 54 Andrew Andy Faile........22, 47 Rachel Parris Fuhrman....25 Stephen Cromer,........27, 47 Aubrey Rose Rucker......28, 41 Josephine Rae Shreve......36 Marissa A. Page.......37 Izabella Schrandt.......40, 40 Beth Freeman.....52, 53 Poetry Chandni Arwen Amin..4, 34 Stephen Cromer.....6 Emma Sherer.......13 James Dallas Porter...14, 42 Elisha A. Smith....16 Kristena Elizabeth Luna....17, 36 Jordan T. Tesch.......................24 Blake Robert Wombat Wommack.....28, 29 Carmen Cromer...46 Rachel Parris Fuhrman..48, 50 Sculpture Rachel Parris Fuhrman......51, 51 Short Story Emma Sherer........8-10 Kristena Elizabeth Luna....20-22 and 30-32 Chandni Arwen Amin.....38-39 and 55 Hawwa K. Muhammad..44-45
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MaDneSS!
by Chandni Arwen Amin Why, hello there. How do you do? They say Im quite mad. Are you mad, too? This madness is quite lonely, And with each passing day, I find myself lonelier and lonelier, Im getting madder, they say. You say you want to leave? Oh, I dont see why you do! This madness is much more fun Ever since we became two! HEE HEE, HA HA, What a laugh! What a laugh! You couldnt leave if you tried! You couldnt find your way back! Because Im not lonely anymore, This madness has two, For one has joined me, Andyou guessed itthats you! So join me here at the table, Bring a teacup or two, Well become quite MAD together, Well be MAD through and THROUGH!

Authors Note: This piece was somewhat influenced by the Mad Hatter and the whole idea of Wonderland, but it was also influenced by true insanity. In most cases, one cannot come back to sanity after losing it, and it's the same for most people who went to Wonderland.
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Drop by Jasmine DaValle

Choice
by Stephen Cromer

Shall I go? Shall I stay? The Russians are coming Their cannons boom like thunder in the distance The barren wasteland of snow whispers cold and hard Promising nothing but torture and misery If I stay They will come If I go I must resolve that I will make it With each step, cold pierces my foot like a knife Every few minutes I hear boom! Boom! Growing louder, ever louder BOOM! BOOM! We are nothing more than a mob of corpses We run and run Till we cannot run any longer Yet we run more We know if we stop the guards wont let us start again Finally Camp beckons We see the towering chimneys billowing death Yet, we keep running and running What choice do we have?

Authors Note: This poem is told from the perspective of Elie Weisel in his novel about the Holocaust, Night.
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Quirky Still Life by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

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An Unexpected Adventure
by Emma Sherer He was tall, and he was blonde, and he was muscled. Plus, he was on the football team. Quarterback. The girls were all over him, naturally. Who wouldn't be? Talented, smart, and (most importantly), goodlooking. On the other hand, there was...me. Short. Pale. Dark. Looked like I hadn't slept in months. And in a wheelchair. The kids at school probably never would've guessed we knew each other, much less that we were related. I don't think he intentionally kept me in the background or anything. He just didn't think. I thought too much. That's what Mum said. I thought about everything. I thought about everything, from the vast, endlessness of the universe and space to the dimples on a baby's finger. I bought maps of the seven seas and all the land in between and carefully crafted a model ship. I called it the Zephyr. Every day for months I added something new; a cannon or a sail or a new cabin. It was huge. It sat up on top of my dresser, which was short and wide so I could reach the top of it from my wheelchair. Pretty soon I was finished with the ship itself, but there were crew members to be made. I made cabin boys, the first mate, the second mate, the bo'son and all the ship's crew. Finally, I made a little figurine that was the captain. Me. With a straight back and legs and a healthy tan. I put my name on his cap - Rene. It looked well, I thought. I made Gerald the admiral. People say that the admiral is really the one calling the shots, because he owns the ship. But the way I figure it is this: Everyone looks at the admiral because he's rich and he owns everything. But the person who's really important is the captain, because without him, the ship wouldn't go anywhere. Besides, captains get to have all the fun of actually commanding a ship. It's sort of like kings and princes. Kings look important, but princes get to have all the fun. I tried my best to apply this to my own life, but I wasn't having any fun. Gerald didn't just look important, like an admiral or a king; he was important, and he got to have fun. I wasn't the prince; I was the scullion, or the cabin boy. You'd think that after someone was in a terrible accident, people would pay more attention to them. Well, I suppose they did pay attention to me, for a bit. But then it became normal; my having a wheelchair and never being able to walk again. To them it became normal, at any rate. I never truly got used to it. We were going to be on the track team together, Gerald and I. But then everything went wrong, and now he's the popular quarterback and I'm the introverted bookworm, huddled by myself in the back of the classroom, hoping for and dreading the notice of others. Today, I could tell Gerald had something on his mind. He rushed home from school he never rides in our wheelchair-oriented minivan and threw his backpack on the ground in our room, saying, Kelsey Reccord's been trying to ask me out again. I snorted. Tell her no. Up front. I don't want to break her heart. Gerald pulled out a banana and began to eat it. I looked away, disgusted. I hated bananas. Yeah, right. More likely you don't wanna hurt your ego when she finds out what you're really like. Hey! Gerald exclaimed around a mouthful of banana. Not true. I grinned. Is so. Is not! Is too. Gerald sobered suddenly, cutting our playful banter short. Hey, Rene, he started, then paused. I was thinking, he began again, maybe you'd like to go somewhere for the holidays. Get away from this dump of a town.
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My eyes lit up. Really? Really. Gerald threw his half-eaten banana in the trash. I wished I could make that throw. Just just you and me? Gerald's eyes slid away from mine. Well... Not your football buddies. My eyes narrowed. I won't go anywhere with them. No! Gerald has changed his mind from my reaction, I can tell. No, bro. Just you and me, duh. He got up and crossed the room. Ruffling my hair, he said, I just wanna spend time with you, you miserable excuse for a younger brother. Jerk. Idiot. A hug would have been awkward with me sitting down, so he just clasped my hand for a second before giving me a fist bump. Pack up! We'll be leaving tomorrow. He left, slamming the door behind him and making my ship shake slightly. The captain fell flat on his face and I wheeled over to check for damage. There wasn't any. I picked up the admiral with Gerald written on his cap and placed him on the poop deck along with the captain. I leaned my elbows on the armrests of my wheelchair and put my first fingers on my lips. Then I wheeled over to the door and went out into the hall. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a strange sight. A man I'd never seen before stood in the kitchen, thumping on the walls while speaking quite rapidly. His discourse appeared to be directed at an extremely slender man with bushy eyebrows which could not conceal alert, intense blue eyes. The slender man looked slightly annoyed and was addressing everything the other man said with an irritated I know before trying to say something else. He didn't seem to be succeeding in saying whatever it was he wanted to communicate, however. Um, hello. I said at length. The man hitting the walls whirled around, surveying me with eyes that were as intense as the other man's but in an entirely different way. His were a lighter blue, almost hazel, and had a look of compassion in them, whereas the other man's where dark blue and sparkled with a harsh, defensive sort of light. The man thumping on the walls instantly made me think of the word craggy. Hello! He responded, grinning widely and briefly, and then went on with his examination of my kitchen walls. The man with the harsh eyes gave me a once over and then directed his gaze at the ceiling, digging both hands in his overcoat pockets. Brother's on the football team. Accident occurred in a car. Mother and father overly protective. Jealous of brother. Who are you and what are you doing in my house? At first I had thought that maybe they were some of Gerald's friends, but now I was certain that couldn't be the case. I'm Peter. The craggy man grinned congenially and held out a large hand, which I, wheeling over, shook. Reginald Willoughby, the world's only. The slender man held out a hand that was as pale as a lily, and just as soft. What are you doing in my house? I repeated. Ah, yes. The man who gave his name to be Peter rubbed his hands together, leaning forward slightly. His eyes sparkled. There's something talking in your walls. It's absolutely fantastic! Talking? I'm telling you, Reginald Willoughby said with intensely calm irritation, there's a perfectly normal explanation for this. Yes. Peter said, with a disconcerting grin. And really, Reggie, aliens aren't quite as crazy as you seem to think.
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Aliens? I could almost believe that, from the way you're acting, Reginald retorted. Reggie, he muttered, pressing his hands to his lips and looking at the ceiling. I was not only confused; I was frustrated. Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I think it's time you left. There's a door. I'd appreciate it if you'd use it. We'll all be using it soon enough. Peter informed me, and somehow I got the feeling the unspoken ending of that sentence was at the same time. As in, going to the same place. I doubt it. I replied. Those words triggered a result I never could have dreamed was possible.

Untitled by Joy Elizabeth Neil Artists Note: The drawing of "The Girl" depicts an actress, Lucy Hale. She's Aria off the popular show "Pretty Little Liars." 10

Untitled by Hawwa K. Muhammad

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Sunset on a Day at Sea by Jasmin Breanne Lane

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The Moon Over France

by Emma Sherer It was a silent night And the moon over France Shone with a pale light I walked and walked and I walked alone I couldn't say what I was about Walking those streets of cobblestone But it was a silent night When the moon shone over France With a light so bright

Untitled by Joy Elizabeth Neil

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Beautiful Eyes (Smile That Shines)

by James Dallas Porter (Verse 1) I was sitting home one day Thinking of what you might say Youre the one my heart would find Couldnt get you off my mind (Verse 2) And you shine just like the stars Even when were near or far I could stare in your eyes so deep Like a never ending sea (Pre-chorus) Forever I could look at you Cause your eyes are so pretty and blue (Chorus) Oh your beautiful eyes Theyre as bright as the skies That Im soarin in Wanna find you again Oh your beautiful soul Heaven wants you to go I want you to be mine Let your smile shine (Verse 3) When I saw you over there And our eyes locked in a stare And the moment felt so right When I saw you in the light (Pre-chorus) (Chorus x3) (Ending) Let your smile shine (Ending x2) Attitude by Jasmine DaValle

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Amber Waves by Carmen Cromer

From Winter Hats To Spring Trees by Chandni Arwen Amin Artists Note: This is a photograph that I spontaneously took on a walk when my hat flew off my head and landed in a tree branch. I thought, Thats not a bad picture, so I snapped it.
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Fear
by Elisha A. Smith Fear itself We battle fear everyday. Ravenously feeding on courage and will. What if dream became reality you say, But put it off for another day. When the day comes that you try again, Fear gangs up with temptation, his friend Raucously hacking at you Too hard, give up, give in.

River and Rocks by Marissa A. Wagstaff

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Princess by Jasmine DaValle

Real Love
by Kristena Elizabeth Luna People wrap flattery into a box And Tie it with a bow Its the desperate ones Who cling to the scrapes The smart ones guard their hearts So that when the day comes And steals it away

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Toby by Marissa A. Wagstaff

Artists Note: I painted both of my pictures with chalk pastels, my favorite medium. My picture,"Toby" is a portrait of my dog, whom we adopted last year.
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Gerbil by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

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Abandoned Angel
by Kristena Elizabeth Luna April slowly walked down the empty side walk. Houses with broken windows and fire singed walls loomed one either side of her. The yards were overgrown with weeds and crab grass, showing no one has lived here in years. Shadows danced around her as the autumn wind blew through leafless tree branches. April cautiously gazed into each window as she walked by hoping desperately that she really was the only one walking about the deserted neighborhood. On any other day, April would be in bed sleeping peacefully instead of wandering the abandoned parts of Redmere in the middle of the night. Though April grew up in Redmere, her parents would never let her walk the streets alone. She was always forced to bring one of them or her friend from childhood - Cam. They were more concerned that she couldnt take care of herself though they were hardly ever home. Her mother worked as a fashion model and her father was a director for movies. They only lived in Redmere because her grandfather left them a house that was already paid off. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. He dug it out and pressed talk. So did you find anything? Or anyone? Cams voice asked. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. No, April sighed in defeat and relief. I hate to say I told you so Then dont. April cut him off. She came two miles into the abandoned neighborhood because there were rumors at her school about how people had seen a ghost and each person whod gone to this neighborhood went straight to the hospital afterwards. Though neither Cam nor April believed in ghosts, they did think something had to be out there or it was all some kind of sick prank. Can we go now? I dont want to be here any longer than I have to and I want go to the movies like we told our parents we would do, remember? Not to mention that we arent supposed to be here in the first place because this entire area was tapped off for demolition. Plus, Im kind of bored sitting in this car alone with nothing going on whats so ever. Cam whined. Fine. Come pick me up then, April muttered. Too bad there wasnt enough excitement tonight. I would have loved to kick some butt tonight. April, did it occur to you that you cant physically attack a ghost? Cam pointed out. Im not talking about any stupid ghosts. Didnt people say that there was some kind monster here living underground? Yeah. That story died tonight too along with the ghost story and the story about and ax murder that wanders the area. Those are just stories April. Every town has its myths and folk tales. Cam said softly as if talking to a child. Just bring the car around and stop April stopped midsentence as a soft hissing noise reached her ears. April? April, are you still there? Cam asked. I hear something, April reported, Sounds likehairspray? Hairspray? What are you talking about? Im going to check it out. April followed the noise to the side of one of the houses. Cam kept on screaming in her ear not to go over there. Something about a gas leak, she wasnt paying attention. When she got to the corner of the building she slowly poked her head out. A guy with chocolate brown hair and wearing a brown leather Jacket, dark blue pants, and black combat boots stood with his back to her. He held out a bottle of spray paint aiming it at the wall of the next building as he continued working on a picture of what looked like the ocean and a pile of sharp rocks jutting out of the water. A blood red sun was half way engulfed by the water. Wow, the word slipped from her mouth quietly. Immediately, the guy spun around. Dog tags swung with him bouncing off his chest twice before resting on their chains. A white mask usually worn by doctors covered half his face. He dropped his spray can and instantly took off the other way. Wait, April called after him. She ran after him. April, whats going on? Cam asked in her ear. Who are you talking to? Come back! April shouted, Im noting going to hurt you, I just want to talk. The guy turned a corner Man hes fast she panted. April followed after him a minute later and almost smacked into a brick wall. The alley was empty of any living being or animal. Whered he go? she gasped trying to catch her breath. Running wasnt her favorite activity.
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Wheres who? What are you talking about? Cam snapped impatiently. There was this guy whowas just spray painting theside of one of thehouses. The painting was beautiful. Heheard me and ran away. She panted. After catching her breath. Its weird though, I couldve sworn that I didnt make that much noise. It wasnt even loud enough for you to hear. Where are you? Im coming to pick you up now. April glanced around behind her. Nothing seemed familiar. She couldnt even make out the way she had come. I dont know. Hey I just thought of something. I remember this trick Ive been working on. I think I can find a way to track him down. April, thats not important right now. You just said you were lost. Why is finding this guy so important when you should be thinking about getting back to the car? Cam snapped. Cant you just track the phone or something? Youre a smart guy, you can figure it out. You dont have any regard for your own life do you? Fine Ill see what I can do, Cam muttered and hung up. April shoved the phone back into her pocket and sat cross legged right where she stood. She placed both hands on the ground and concentrated as hard as she could. A pale red light formed from her hands, and just by thinking about it, the light dispersed from her hand and moved away from her like a ripple in a puddle. It passed over trash, the walls of building and small breathing creatures hidden under furniture. April could feel everything the energy she sent out passed over, and thats how she found him. It hadnt even been two minutes when it passed over a rapidly breathing large, creature nine feet above her head. She immediately jumped up and looked to the roof of the building next to her. Sure enough, he was perched on the ledge of the building watching her intently. The mask still covered his face. Howd you get up there? April asked confused. There werent any ladders she could see and it was impossible to scale a wall that high up. He didnt answer her. Instead, he got up and turned away running along the side of the roof to get away. April ran on the ground, her eyes trained on him. He came to the ledge and jumped. April sent up a lasso of red energy catching his foot and yanking it back to bring him down. He slammed into two trash cans and then hit the ground. By the time she got to him, he laid on the ground covered in trash, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. I think you broke a few ribs, he muttered trying to get up. April focused on his energy. His body lit up with a pale red light and she used it to force him against the wall spreading his arms out so she could see them. He struggled against her hold but could barely move. Look, I wasnt trying to hurt you. I just want to talk, April told him. You sure have a funny way of showing it. He snapped. For every second his stayed on the wall like a butterfly in a case, he harder he struggled. If you really want to talk, can you at least let me down? Are you going to behave and not run away? April asked eyeing him suspiciously. Im not a child you know, he replied annoyed. April released his hold and he fell at her feet. He removed his white mask and tossed it to the ground. Wow, April thought to herself, Hes hot. Whats your name? she asked Tony. And who are you? He replied. Im April. What are you doing here? This place is off limits to the public. Its set for demolition. April said extending her hand to help him up. He just waved it away and climbed to his feet. I could ask you the same question then. I have more of an excuse since I didnt know that. Tony pointed out. How do you not know that? Its all over the news. April pointed out. First, I justmoved here four weeks ago. Second, I dont watch TV. And third, how can you say this place is off limits if people have been wandering around here? Tony asked folding his arms across his chest. So youre the one whos been attacking the other teenagers, Aprils eyes widened has the realization hit her. Anyone would get hurt wandering inside unstable buildings in the middle of the night. He mumbled. So what are you doing here then? April repeated her first question more forcefully. Iumlive here, he answered turning his back on her. What? No you dont. This place was caught fire six years ago and has been abandoned ever since. No one lives here unless youre a ghost! she practically shouted out of excitement. I was right, there is a ghost here. She thought trying to restrain herself from jumping up and down. Tony knocked on her head with his fist three times. Im not a ghost, he said, I really live here. Temporarily of course but I cant really afford a hotel room every time I go to a new town. New town? How old are you? April asked curiously. Fifteen.
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Do your parents know that you travel like this or are you a run-away? April asked. His eyes flew from her to the ground. I dont really have parents, he answered softly. Oh, April instinctively covered her mouth. Im so sorry. I wasnt thinking. My parents arent dead. At least, not that I know of, he laughed weakly, I just had an accident when I was a kid and I dont really remember them. Anyway, if youre not a ghost, then howd you get way up there on the roof? Howd you make those red lights move like that? Tony asked leaning against the wall as April tried to think up and explanation. She decided to go with the truth. I can manipulate energy. She allowed the energy to engulf her hand to let Tony see. Tony just watched not making a sound. His dark brown eyes gave nothing away. You dont seem too surprised. Not everyone can do things like this you know. Maybe not do that, but Ive seen weirder things. Tony replied as he peeled off his leather jacket. A pair of large brown wings unfolded from his back. He stretched them out and then let them fall again. April took a step back. Are you an angel? She gaped reaching a hand forward to touch it. You dont know how many people have asked me that, he laughed. Suddenly, a two blinding lights filled the alley. A door slammed shut and the silhouette of a figure hopped came running in her direction. Ive finally found you, Cam said as he sped walked to her side. I saw the guy you were with. Who was he? Your ghost? April turned to introduce him, but Tony was no longer there. He disappeared again? she growled searching the roofs of all the houses then, more tired she said, Lets just go home now. Im really tired. TO BE CONTINUED...

That Aint Honey by Andrew Andy Faile

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Abstract of Wonder by Ashley Marie Ash Barfield Artists Note: This is an abstract piece that is very different from the rest because its the first time that I used paint to color my abstract art. I have people ask me, What is it? all the time. I tell them, Its whatever you see! I hope you enjoy!

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Cold Common Courtesy

by Jordan T. Tesch

A moment of possibility. A glance pregnant with potential. The potential of recognition, The realization of a familiarity. Will those foreign glances liquefy from the stiffness of simple courtesy, To the fluidity of shared recognition? Will the cold, hard eyes turn to shining faces? To shining smiles, smiles of genuine friendship? Initial surprise, maybe, then streams of warm, animated wordsCurrents of smiling greetings. But no. No fluidity. No streams. No warmth, no recognition. The stiffness remains. Just the cold, common courtesy of strangers. A smile of plastic and a nod. Its over.

Kevin by Carmen Cromer

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Dillon by Rachael Parris Fuhrman

Intensity by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

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Spring by Rachael Parris Fuhrman

Fishing by Marissa A. Page

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By Dawns Early Light by Stephen Cromer

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New by Aubrey Rose Rucker

Faith
by Blake Robert Wombat Wommack It is what many people dont understand It is what many people consider unnecessary It is what our Savior still believed in when others didnt It is what drives the devil out of our bodies and makes us pure again It is what took away my misery and brought me happiness It is what I wont let anyone take away from me It is what saved me from the darkness and brought me to the light It is my Faith

Authors Note: The nickname Wombat has been passed down in my family for many years, starting with my grandfather.
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Temptation
by Blake Robert Wombat Wommack It is the thing I fight every day of my life It is the Devils most powerful creation It is the thing that is responsible for the deaths of the innocent It is the thing that without Christ giving his life you would lose every time It is an evil you cannot see, only think It is you against it in a never ending battle of good versus evil It is Gods mortal enemy It is Temptation

I Have A Dream by Hawwa K. Muhammad

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Lost Memories
by Kristena Elizabeth Luna Tony shivered as he sat by a dumpster behind some building in the pouring rain. He looked wildly around trying to remember where he was and how he got there, but got nothing. His clothes were soaked through and his brown hair was matted to his head. His left shoulder hurt and felt heavy; he couldnt feel the rest of the arm below that point. Cautiously, Tony glanced down at his hands and jumped to his feet in horror and confusion. His right arm was completely normal except for a long and painfully deep cut along the palm. His left hand, however, was gone; replaced with a robotic limb. Tony couldnt move it well and when he tried, a stabbing pain erupted from his shoulder causing him to cry out and bring himself back down to his knees. He leaned up against the wall again and looked around, this time taking every detail ad reviewing every fact he knew. He sat in an ally way probably somewhere in the middle of night. There was only one way out of the alley and that led into the streets. Honking, screeching tires, and voices told him he had to be in a city. The only thing he knew about himself was his name and he figured that out from the dog tags hanging around his neck. Where am I? he whispered pulling the hood of his sweat shirt over his head with his good arm. His head pounded and the world seemed to spin a little. He just wanted to go home; wherever that was. Dont give me that crap kid. I want that money now, a booming voice snarled impatiently. Tony glanced up in time to see four boys enter the alley. Three of them were clustered together hovering over fourth kid who tried backing away from them. Their features were hard to see in the darkness. The first boy in the lead of the group snatched a dark glass bottle from one of his friends and smashed it against the wall. He pointed the jagged end at the boy he faced. Its mine. Back off, the younger boy snapped as he held his back pack away from them. The leader sighed and backhanded the kid. The boy spun around and landed face forward into the ground. The other two burst out in laughter like it was some comedy show. Tonys eyes widened in shock. Why are they picking on another person, especially a kid? He thought climbing weakly to his feet. Give me the money now, the leader ordered menacingly. Is it really worth your life? I was about to ask you the same thing. Tony said planting himself between the boy and the group. What? Whered you come from? The second taller and thinner boy gaped as if he were some kind of monster. Cool it Sam. Its just another idiot. I told you not to drink so much," the leader snapped. Sorry, Mike. Sam replied almost shamefully. Mike turned back to Tony. Move out of the way if you dont want to get hurt. That brat owes us money and we intend to collect. Hes lying. I dont owe them anything, the kid protested from behind him. He got up to a sitting position and wiped blood from his mouth. Shut up, Mike roared silencing everyone. And you get out of the way, now. Tony remained where he was signaling he wasnt going anywhere. So you wanna play hero do ya? Mikes eyes scanned him with mild interest and then he reeled his arm back with the glass bottle. Fine but dont say I didnt warn ya. He swung down. Tony caught his wrist with his food hand and squeezed; completely surprised when he heard a sickening snap. Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go, let go! Mike screamed dropping the bottle which shattered around their feet. Tony resisted from covering his ears as they began to ring. It sounded like he was screaming into a megaphone. Let go of him Freak, Sam cried swinging a fist. Tony pulled Mike in front of his body allowing Mike to take the punch to his face. He released Mike, who dropped to the ground and didnt move, rounded back and kicked Sam in the gut. Sam doubled over and gasped for breath. Hey! a man yelled into the alley, Whats going on in here? the two beaten boys along with their terrified and speechless companion scrambled out before the man could do anything. The boy followed them out but disappeared in a different direction leaving Tony and this new guy alone. Before Tony could reply, a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over him. The alley seemed to tilt sideways and the ground eagerly rushed up to meet him. The man ran forward and caught him before he hit the ground. Tonys entire body felt hot.
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Youre burning up. I need to get you to a hospital, the mans voice sounded miles away. Can you walk? He helped up to his feet and was practically carried to the mans car. He opened the back door and laid him down on the seats. After the man climbed in, cool air blew from above on to his face. It felt good. His vision seemed to slowly fade to black before he lay motionless on the seats. Carter Hale sped down the empty road towards the Emergency room. Hed heard the fighting from his car where he had been working on a latest sketch. Every so often he checked his mirror to see the boy. The moment he realized the boy was unconscious, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. Please dont be dead, please dont be dead, he mumbled as he got out of the car and opened up the back door. He checked the boys breathe and found it irregular and slightly faint but still alive. He made sure all air vents were pointed at him. That sweat shirt isnt helping much either. He muttered. Carter pushed the boy to a sitting position and gently peeled off the sweater. Something snapped and clang to the ground but Carter wasnt too concerned about that. Just when it was off, Carter jumped back in shock. Long brown wings spilled out from the sweater and folded over the seats touching the ground. What the heck is this? He gaped. He touched the soft feathers and the pulled back. Those cant be real. Theyre not real. Theyre not real. He is just some Sci-Fi fanatic from a convention in town. He has to be. He told himself gently. He lifted the boy back up to a sitting position. Two long holes were cut into the tshirt allowing the wings to be out of the shirt. Carter didnt see anything that would strap them to the boys body. He grabbed one of the wings and tugged. The boy let out a pitiful groan. They are real. What do I do? Cant call the police. Theyll think Im crazy. Could I still take him to the hospital? What would happen after that? he muttered to himself as he leaned against the side of his car. A truck pulled up beside him and the passenger window rolled down. A young girl with long wavy red hair poked her head out the window. Is everything okay here? Are you in any trouble? she asked. No. Everything is under control. No problems here, he lied planting on the biggest fake smile he could manage. You sure? she asked again, concern growing in her round green eyes. Positive. He answered. The window rolled up and the truck pulled away. Carter pulled out his cellphone and dialed in the first number he could think of. Hello? an elderly sounding woman answered. Hey Grandma, its me. Oh Carter. How are you sweetie? Things could be slightly better than how they are. Carter sighed. Whats wrong Sweetie? she asked soothingly. I just found this kid who is very how do I put itfreaky. There was a long pause. What do you mean by freaky? she asked. I mean hes got wings Grandma, Carter replied. Grandma let out a hysterical laugh. Carter lowered his head and sighed in frustration. This isnt funny, Grandma. Of course it isnt. Did you stop by a bar or something? she giggled. Do you want me to bring him over? Do you really need proof? Sure, bring him over sweetie. Ill have a nice meal ready for you when you get here. Grandma hung up the phone still laughing. Carter closed the door and hopped back into the drivers seat. He sped down the road; not too worried about any police since this the back-roads. They hardly ever watched the area here because nothing ever happened. He pulled the car into a drive way of a two story house. Glancing around to make sure the streets were empty, he hopped out of the car and opened up the back door. He scooped up the boy and let the wings drag behind them as he carried him into the house. His grandmother waited for him in the kitchen holding a plate of chicken and peas. Oh so youre finally here and soaked too. Go upstairs and Grandma was cut off as she saw that Carter had brought in someone. Who is that? She asked. The boy I told you about over the phone. Where do you want me to put him? Carter asked. On the couch. Good Lord, she dropped the plate sending food scattering over the floor. He does have wings. And hes very sick. I need help right now. Carter placed the boy on the couch and took off his shoes and socks. Grandma disappeared into another room and came back carrying blankets and extra clothes.

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Take those wet clothes off him and put these on. She said shoving the clothes to him. You want me to undress this kid? In the living room? Carter asked disbelieving. Dont worry. Ill go to my room. Just get him out of those wet clothes. They arent helping him right now. She turned and head back to her bedroom. Carter rolled his eyes and carefully took off each piece of the boys clothing a quickly replaced it with the PJs his grandmother provided. The shirt was the hardest to work with. Eventually he had to cut the shirt off to remove it and then create two new holes in the new shirt he had with him and then struggled to put it on him. In the end, he finally just gave up and left him shirtless. Grandma you can come back now. Carter called throwing the blanket over the boys body. Immediately, Grandma went to the kitchen and soaked a rag. She walked over to the side of the couch and placed the rag on the boy head. He needs to rest for now. Lets leave him alone and Its your dinner time by the way. She lead Carter away to the dining room table. TO BE CONTINUED

Imagine by Chandni Arwen Amin

Artists Note: Believe it or not, this is something rather random that I did when I was bored. It was also when I was trying to think up a name and a sort of graphic design for the writing group I'm starting.
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Main St. Dillon by Jasmin Breanne Lane

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Music Notes
by Chandni Arwen Amin

Her heart beats a different beat, A beat of a song, He heard tilts right and left, She lip-syncs along.

Headphones covering her ears, Fingers moving over strings, The only thing she hears, Is the joy only music can bring.

She smiles a smile, She laughs a laugh, She walks the whole mile, And all the way back.

And shes F A L L I N G For the music, For the band thats up her street, In love with every single note, From the musicians shell never meet.

But shes happy. Shes blithe. Shes going on her way.

Shes walking on the path of life, Letting her music P L A Y

Authors Note: I didn't really think about this poem when I wrote it because I was in one of my writing moods (which come very frequently, I might add). It's basically a way for me to show just how much I love music-after all, I play trumpet and guitar and never leave the house without my iPod, so it's pretty hard NOT to love music for me. And this was just a way of showing it.
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A Symbol of Love by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

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Where Im From
by Kristena Elizabeth Luna I am from books From fairytale stories to creating my own I am from grass stained jeans And muddy shoes I am from the willow tree in our backyard Its branches dangling lazily to touch the ground

I am from home cooking From taco Thursdays and beans I am from Pete and Lisa From the know-it-alls and talk-a-lots From be quiet to go play outside

I am from Sunday morning services From singing with the Choir And having pizza afterwards I am from Grandma and Grandpa Luna From sitting around and listening to childhood stories To final farewells after grandpa passed away Look in my closet and under my bed Youll find notebooks and albums With stories and pictures of days from the passed And blank passes for days yet to come

Untitled by Josephine Rae Shreve

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Small Flowers by Marissa A. Page

Imagine by Hawwa K. Muhammad

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An Act of Rebellion
by Chandni Arwen Amin Authors Note: Begin to play Survival (the five minute version by Muse) where it says Music began to play. All the televisions in the country of Olevry were on, and tuned to the same channel. They were playing the required program for that eveninga direct message from the president on the latest concerns and issues of that country. The president was a portly, short man, with unusually red skin and a mustache that seemed extremely unruly. He barely had any hair, and his eyebrows were turning grey, even though his hair was still black. He had fat little fingers, and his clothes barely fit him; no, in fact, he was stretching them so much to the point that they looked as if they were to burst any second. He coughed and wheezed as he continued to read off the paper he was holding. And last but not least, the president smiled a fake smile, as though he had told a horrid joke but still expected everyone to laugh, remember to keep your eye out for that wanted criminal, the Black Cat. Full name Lexia Terrin, height five feet six inches, white skin colour, green eyes, short black hair, slender. Very slippery. Shell most likely be in hiding. After all, she would be afraid for breaking the colour and music lawswearing anything but white is forbidden and playing music is forbidden, both for good reason. He smiled again. Shes a coward, like all the rest. Simply an enemy of the state to be wiped out All the televisions went blank. The citizens looked at each other. It was a glitch, of course. The government seemed to be having a lot of those on their broadcasts of late. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed by. Their screens were all, still, black. Then a picture appeared. It was of a stage in a very large and empty theatre that had clearly been abandoned years before. Yet it seemed as though someone had cleaned it up; as though it had regained some of its regality and beauty. Large, red velvet curtains covered the stage, yet there was a little bit of its rich oaken floor peeking out. The chairs were obviously well-cushioned, and the floor was carpeted. All of the previous programs audience could tell it was once a well-known theatre where the stars had used to come many, many times. Music began to play. Beautiful, harmonious music with violins and the piano. All the watchers of the show were overwhelmed by a feeling of lust. They had never heard such beautiful sound. Was this what was called music? And the colours of the theatre. So beautiful. They made their eyes feel satisfied, the sort of satisfied feeling one gets after having a nice meal, and they, the audience, they had never felt this way in their lives! The curtains pulled back slowly, and the theatre darkened, and the stage was lit up by spotlights And then there was a girl. She was of average height, but was no average beauty; no, she was extraordinary. Her midnight black hair was cut short, and her dancing green eyes twinkled as if she was definitely up to no good and knew it. Her skin was an almost snow-white, and her figure was slender, so slender it seemed she would be able to slip through anything. She was dressed in a short black dress that was trimmed in gold. Her fingernails were printed fiery colours, and looked so real that she could have been lit on fire right there and then. Her heeled shoes were also fiery oranges, golds, and reds. The citizens, although apart, all gave an involuntary gasp in unison. And, unexpectedly, she brought out a duffel bag that was filled with somethings. She took out all those somethings, lining them up neatly in a row. Spray paint cans. She turned to the unseen camera, bowing to the viewers with a catlike smile. The girl took a can into each hand, a silver one in the left, a white one in the right. She turned around to face the plain black backdrop of the stage that was behind her. She unwrapped a green lollipop and popped it into her mouth, rolling it around as she contemplated her canvas, absentmindedly gently waving her hands to the music playing in the background
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And then it halted suddenly, and her hands paused where they were, and the music took on just the piano and someones voice. Then a drum, and the beat of the piano changed. Oh, and the colour! She was pressing the nozzle of the spray paint cans, starting out slowing with a simple white, and then suddenly, the viewers didnt know how, she had different colours in her hands, a whole prism of light and colour and sounds all at her fingertips. It was different from anything they had ever seen before. And so she painted. At first she made a painting of buildings. And as the painting took form and shape, the citizens realized it was the capitol of their city. And so she painted every building and alleyway, her hands moving without hesitation or stop, moving along with the music. And then she had different colours in her hands yet again, an fiery orange, and a brilliant red, and a shining gold. She painted fire. Flames licked the sides of the buildings, burning them down, and the citizens were horrified. Who would do such a thing as burn a city? Much less the capitol of all places? And then she made ashes. Ashes of the city, the ruined homes, the once-glorious buildings. Ashes of the people and things that had inhabited the city, ashes, ashes, ashes. All black and grey, and they littered the ground like corpses on a battlefield. And she built a new city. A different city a city full of life. Colour was everywhere, people were different, they smiled, talked, looked different, acted different, were different. They were different people, beings, they were humans, and they looked the part, not like a suppressed race that lived on the surface of a once-beautiful planet. As she finished the final touches on her new city, the viewers could hear the theatre doors burst open, and troops filed in. They finally realized who this unknown daring girl was. The Black Cat. She turned away, dropping the cans, the troops pointing guns at her and shouting orders to the others. They tried to shoot the speakers but to no avail; the speakers themselves were shot, but the music continued relentlessly, and they were hopelessly confused, so they focused their attention on the Black Cat only. But the Black Cat was not just standing anymore. Up until the moment the troops tried to seize her, she had done nothing. But when that first guard reached for her arm, she wasnt so still anymore. She was a blur. She seemed to be in all the places at once, she was nothing like they had ever seen. She wielded no weapons yet she had all; it was her against an army, but it was like a thousand armies against the troops. She was merciless, striking them down one after another, ceaselessly fighting down until the last one standing. The last one, at his wits end, his mind long gone, fired against orders at her, rattling round after round from his gun. The others had, too, but they had never had a chance. The last one fell. And as he did, the Black Cat took her time stepping over the unconscious troops, walking over to the screen until her face was right in front of the camera. She said four words, loud and clear, for all of Olevry to hear. She knew all would hear, even the president, every single one of them. She smiled a cold, determined smile. This is a rebellion. And then she was gone.

Authors Note: For this short story, I used one of my favorite characters amongst those that I've created--the Black Cat, also known as Lexia Terrin. At the time, I was playing the song mentioned in the story on repeat, and, again, was in one of my writing moods. I had been wanting to write this story for a while, and so I did. I hope it's alright--I tried to do the main idea justice and keep the story's length to match the song's where it says "music begins to play."
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Pikachu by Izabella Schrandt

Lizard by Izabella Schrandt

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Untitled by Aubrey Rose Rucker

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The Unwritten Poem

by James Dallas Porter

The unwritten poem is from you to me The words on the page came up as empty Many lines are written, but the words are few Still many words are heard from you

With this unwritten poem is the beginning and end This poem repeats again and again. Though many words are spoken, none are said Many words are written, but none are read

Though every word here may not come to pass, The unwritten poem will forever last With many words used, there's none left to say Except your poem is different, in its own special way

In everything that you are, and everything that you do, You show who you are, and you show that it's you I made this poem for you all to see There's an unwritten poem for you, and for me

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Untitled by James Dallas Porter

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My Trip to Anchorage Alaska!

by Hawwa K. Muhammad I hung up the phone, jumped in bed, and went to sleep with great thoughts in my head. The next morning I woke up feeling elation yet nervousness all over my body. Today was the day I had waited for. It was the day that I was going to fly for the first time in my life. I had never even been to an airport before. I threw the covers off of me and ran to change my clothes. There was no time to waste. It took me thirty minutes to eat breakfast, get dressed and sit my packed bags at the door. At 8:30 A.M. my sister and her husband pulled up in front of my house. They were ready to take me to the airport. I hugged and kissed my mom. Next, I put my arms around my other sister Zay. She looked rather sad to see me go. Zay and I were pretty close. I knew she didnt want me to leave so I squeezed her really tight and said dont worry; Ill call you every day! Waving goodbye and dragging my bags behind me, I excitedly walked to the car with my brother-inlaw. As the car skid off the gravel driveway, I felt my eyes swell with tears. I knew that even though I wouldnt be gone long, I was really going to miss my family. It took us two hours to get to the airport. I didnt really mind because I slept the whole way. At the airport, we parked the car, offloaded the bags, and hurried inside. As my bags were being weighed, I had a short conversation with the lady behind the desk. She expressed that she always wanted to go to Alaska, especially Anchorage. This was my destination. My older sister lived there and I was on my way to be her babysitter for the next two months. I had only two bags, one being a carry-on and the other a full suitcase costing twenty-five dollars, an affordable price for me. It was time to board the plane. I proudly took my bag and walked to the scanner. I was so eager at that moment that I grabbed my bags and headed to the gate; forgetting to hug my sister and her husband or even to wave goodbye. After five minutes of waiting the zone numbers were announced. It was time to board the plane. I jumped up and quickly got in line. My number was 16A so I had the window seat. I was elated. I arrived in Phoenix after four hours of flying. That was where I had my one hour layover. As I stepped off the plane I looked around at the commodious airport. It was very huge, noisy and busy. It was definitely much bigger than the one in Charlotte N.C., but I wasnt complaining. My layover was short. There was just enough time to grab something to eat and get to the next gate where I would board the plane to Alaska. Burger King was in sight so I joined that line and was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of used oil and unhealthy food. Reluctantly I bought myself some large fries and a glass of sweet tea. The fries tasted oil soaked. I instantly dumped them into the trash and gulped down my extra sweet tea. The flight attendant was announcing the flight number. It was time for me to board the plane. I found my gate, called my mom and told her exactly where I was. Since I was travelling alone it was important to stay in close contact with her. Once again I got in line. The lady in front of me was screaming at the flight attendant. She was yelling because there was no room on the plane for her carry on and she had to check in to her destination. I heard her yell; I HAVE ALL MY BREAKABLES IN HERE YOU IDIOT! DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF CARRY ON? she exclaimed. When she realized the flight attendant was ignoring her, she rolled her eyes and stomped on the plane. I was next; the flight attendant put a sticker on my carry-on. I guess it meant my bag also had to be checked to my destination. I didnt really mind. Less for me to carry, I said, as I boarded the plane. I sat down. Again I had a window seat.Yay! I screamed. The captain said we had some last minute boarders, so I waited as they joined us. Little did I know that one of those boarders would be sitting right next to me. A girl, who looked as old as I was, came to my aisle. She was wearing a blue T-shirt, tie-die gray skinnies, and some dirty black and white chucks. She also had a bag slung across her. As soon as she sat next to me I smelled something. When I realized that the extraneous smell was coming from her I sighed; because I knew I would smell it the whole way to Alaska. Oh My God! I exclaimed. I then contorted my body in a way that I was facing the window with my head buried in my arms. She smelled like she had been running for days. My poor nose was being tortured. My arms were so tightly wrapped around my head that I began to feel like I was suffocating. How long do I have to sit like this? I was thinking. When I finally realized I couldnt breathe anymore. I sat up and reached in my purse for some spearmint gum. As I began to chew, the minty smell of my gum filled my nose and I thought, why didnt I try this before? Soon the gum taste began to fade, so I took the gum out of my mouth and put it back into the wrapper.
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Shortly after that I began to doze off. Soon I was sleeping. I dont know how long I slept for, but when I woke up I heard the captain announce, we will be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts. Yes! I shouted as I buckled my belt. To buy time I decided to stare out the window. I opened the shade and I saw what seemed to be the most amazing thing in the world. I glared at the mountains with snowy tips and saw the sun setting below me. We landed. I unbuckled my seatbelt and jumped up. I was moving quickly because I was extremely excited to see my sisters who I hadnt seen in over a year. At the baggage claiming I began looking for my bags. I realized I was in the wrong claiming area so I went to another one. My bags were literally right there. As I grabbed the larger suitcase I almost fell to the ground, forgetting it weighed exactly 60lbs. When I gazed around the airport I noticed both of my older sisters heading my way, while excitedly waving their hands in the air. Screaming in excitement and pulling my bags behind me, I ran toward them. We hugged with great emotion for a long time, and squeezed each other tightly. As we walked away together, they both still had their arms around me. I smiled thinking about the great experience I had while flying for the first time alone.

Untitled by Hawwa K. Muhammad

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Spirits of America
by Carmen Cromer America is Individualism To those with one dream America is Independence To those who see her gleam America is Innovation Always becoming new America is Tomorrow Always remaining true America is Compassion To those who weep America is Knowledge To those who seek America is Discovery Always sparking new thought America is Adventure Always exploring more than not America is Self-Reliance To those who say they can America is Freedom To that young man America is Pioneering Always opening up America is Heritage Always winning her golden cup America is the spirit within Turned outward from our inside America's ideals are a guiding light That shall never die.

Authors Note: Inspired by the Spirits of America statues in Walt Disney World's American Adventure.
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View From the Mile High Swinging Bridge by Andrew Andy Faile

Mountain Majesty by Stephen Cromer

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The One Thing We Know

by Rachael Parris Fuhrman These last couple weeks Have been pretty rough. The fighting, the jealousy, And the breakup were tough.

But through all of it, Our friendship remained. This friendship's forever Pure, can't be stained.

You'll be there for me, And I'll be there for you. It's not even a question, We both know it's true.

You know when you're hurt, I'll be there to care. And times when your happy, Your joy I will share.

In the back of my mind A dream'll be there through time, Of having your love again And your lips upon mine.

And whether that happen Or whether it not, I'll be falling for you Til in your arms I'm caught.

The one thing I do know Til time comes to an end, Is no matter what happens, You'll be my best friend.
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Untitled by Joy Elizabeth Neil

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Climbing the Tree

by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

Well friend, let me tell you, My life's been no easy tree to climb. It's had thorns, And splinters, And places where there's nothing to hold on. Slipping. But I keep climbing. Pulling myself up, One branch at a time, My eye on the flowers up top. When I get there this'll allBe worth it. So friend, please listen. You may loose your footing, But hold on tight. Find the strength to hold on Till you get to the light. I'm nearing the top, And the view's just fine, Though this life's been no easy tree to climb.

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Valentines Cake Pops by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

Monster Cookie Sculpture by Rachel Parris Fuhrman

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Noise by Beth Freeman

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Where by Beth Freeman

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Untitled by Joy Elizabeth Neil

The Beatles by Chandni Arwen Amin Artists Note: I took this photograph when my family put on the Beatles first record after getting all of the albums for Christmas. It was a very special moment for me, so I decided to capture the moment by taking a photograph.
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The Girl Named Horse

by Chandni Arwen Amin Horse. My nickname is jeeringly chanted by Max and his friends. He nicknamed me that in seventh gradeeven now, in my senior year of high school, it still follows me. An ugly nickname for ugly legs and an awkward girl. I shake those thoughts out of my head as I line up for the race. Max Stevens is the only one lining up next to me. Will I win or lose? He smirks at my nervousness. Will I win or lose? Please let me win, I whisper to no one. Please. But I know that there is no hope of my winning. Because Max is the only person who has beat me before, and he will beat me again. I think the crowd knows it too. But then again, every year, they cheer for only one person. A shot rings out right before I see Max fling dirt into my eyes as he bolts from his starting position. My eyes sting with pain, but I still get up and start running. Soon, I can see again, and see that even though I am actually not too far behind Max, he is already halfway around the track once. Even knowing that I will lose, I run, like a bad routine. I am starting to draw even with him, and we are nearing the middle mark of the second lap. And, like a routine every year, he elbows me twice, hard, in the stomach and chest. I double over, gasping for breath. My vision blurs. This is always where I quit. Where I end the race. I can hear the whispers through the crowd as Max reaches the mark again to begin his final lap. But suddenly an unknown flame of anger rises up in me. And I start running. Hes a quarter finished with his last lap now, but I keep running. The crowd is dead silent. All I hear is my raging heartbeat, the rhythm of my feet, as I miraculously draw even with him. And now there is a roaring in my ears, and I can dimly hear the repetition of one wordHorse. Is it in my head? I keep running, and I draw past him as we go for the last quarter of the last lap, the roaring getting louder. His face is red now and he struggles furiously to keep up, but is failing miserably. Adrenaline is coursing through me, and I run like I never have before, throwing my heart and soul into this one last race. I finish at what seems like a mile ahead of Max Stevens. Now the roaring becomes clearer. HORSE! The crowd is chanting. HORSE! HORSE! HORSE! I am suddenly swept off my feet by the crowd that is carrying me up and away from the track. And suddenly my nickname is made a shining emblem. I am not that awkward, shy girl who is always made fun of. I am that girl who runs like the wind. I am Horse.

Authors Note: The Girl Named Horse was written for an online story contest. Id been bullied in the past, but Ive become a stronger, more outgoing person, and this story represents the feeling I get when I realize that those bullies cant hurt me anymore.
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Leviathan Dreams by Chandni Arwen Amin

Artists Note: The title of this piece is a bit of a play on words. Since "leviathan" means "huge" in another language, "Leviathan Dreams" can actually be translated to "Huge Dreams." Not only does the title and piece imply that imaginations can inspire "huge dreams," but the funny thing is that the characters I edited in are from a book series called "Leviathan". Haha, see it now?
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