Dancing Girl by Gabrielle Smith
It’s Been Six Years Momma by Autumn Gray
Autumn Gray
It’s Been Six Years Momma
Six years since the circle of life took its course, taking the only real love I’ve ever known, like a dream replaced with inevitability, she vanished, why didn’t she fight harder, then I could have braced for impact. Time passed, my selfish needs took me away from what I thought would last forever, now I’m sick, not the same, convincing the hecklers inside my head that it’s only a joke, blaming divinity, because I’m the victim, she left me, I have no one, I love her, I miss her, my mother gone too soon.
The Wind by Stephanie Eberly
Stephanie Eberly
The Wind
I walked along a beaten path. The sun’s rays peeked through the tall trees lining the path. Shadows danced around as colorful leaves swayed in the breeze. The wind plucked a handful of leaves and gracefully laid them on the ground near me. It quietly whispered in my ear as it flew past. I watched in wonder at the power, yet grace, of such an amazing force. Petals caught in the wind’s grasp whirled around me. They gently brushed my face, making me break into a smile. I followed the stream of petals. They sped up, asking me to join them. My legs moved faster, faster, until I broke into a run. The wind in my hair, the earth beneath my feet, and the joy in my heart made me feel free. I was led around a bend and through a wall of vines. I burst through the plants. Birds singing, crickets chirping, and the sun’s warm rays met me on the other side. I caught my breath. The beauty of nature filled every corner. The wind played with the petals. It twirled them through the air; in circles, around trees, in all different directions. It finally placed them on the ground and settled for a moment. I rested beneath an apple tree, the warmth of the sun causing my eyes to close. I heard a tiny whisper in my ear saying, “even though you can’t see me, I am still here,” before falling into a peaceful sleep.
Power Struggle by Hannah Kastelein
Hannah Kastelein
Power Struggle
Thirteen years of isolation, thirteen years of learning.
Thirteen years of mother, brother. Thirteen years of yearning.
Springfield Middle, here I come! Boarding the bus for the first time.
Giggling, smiling, looking friendly, eager for approval.
The bus smells of rotten cheese and pubescent boys who forgot deodorant for the first day.
Hot, sweaty bodies packed three or four to a seat.
Different music I’ve never heard before. It scares me.
A blue sign greets me at the door with the odor of more cheese…
How do these girls get their hair like that? What are they wearing on their face?
First day of volleyball tryouts. People will like you now.
Suiting up in tiny spandex, fancy shoes… Where are the shorts?
Tall girl, just like me! Maybe she will be my friend. Beautiful curly hair, mine is huge and limp.
Is she making fun of me, or should I laugh, too? I feel her glare burn into my head all day.
She’s good. I’m good, too. I make the team. But wait… who didn’t?
The pretty girl who’s best friends with the tall girl. Nobody likes me now.
Freak, Weirdo, Ugly, Gross. I’m shunned.
Everywhere I turn I see the backs of everyone else. Lunch alone. Free time alone.
Partner work. Alone.
Time goes by.
Sophomore year of high school, I’m still living in her shadow.
Pretending to get by, pretending not to be hurt. Pretending to like her.
No longer volleyball, it’s in basketball she intimidates.
Coaches see my potential. That feels good.
One day, it’s no longer a game. It’s me and her, one-on-one. Proving on the court who’s the best.
Everyone stops. I feel anger, real anger. I’m no longer afraid. This is what I’ve wanted.
I feel her push me and punch me from behind, like so many other times.
I push back.
The ball is between us. I see her eyes, full of something I haven’t seen before.
We’re on the floor, I have the ball, she can’t have it. I will no longer let her take what is mine.
Her arms are wrapped in mine, fighting for the ball, fighting for me.
I twist and turn. She’s lost; I’ve won!
But wait, she jumps on top of me, knocking the wind from me.
I realize I’m bigger, I’m stronger. And she is gone.
Lifting myself and her up in the air, dropping her back on the floor with a thud and a groan…
It’s my turn to feel power.
Twenty minutes of sweat for three years of struggle.
Everyone’s mouths hang open in shock and awe. Respect is mine.
Hannah Kastelein stands above. Hannah Kastelein is her own.