CHHS's Literary Magazine
By Dakota Sloop, '22
It was late, and Mina sat out on her front lawn, enjoying the cold night breeze on her face, a stark contrast to the still air of the humid days that crept on and on. Beside her was a childhood friend, and their idle talk proved to be a great distraction from the looming threat of school, which was just days away now. She flopped down onto the grass, sighing heavily as she glared up at the stars, blowing her hair out of her face. Alex turned his head to look down at her. “You know, you won’t know anyone there, and I’ll be lonely here without you. You don’t have to—“ So much for a distraction. She put up a hand, blindly searching for his face, and managing to put a finger on his lips without looking. “Shh. For the millionth time, I’ve wanted to study abroad ever since I was a kid. Plus, you’ll be fine. You have my phone number, and plenty of other friends.” He brushed her hand off. “Yeah, but my other friends aren’t you. I don’t want to make up new inside jokes, and wait years and years for a new history to finally be built up, so I was thinking that maybe--” “Nope. I’m going, and you can’t change my mind.” She crossed her arms. “Can you at least let me make my point?” She shook her head. “Can we just enjoy the last bit of time we have together?” He sighed, pausing and leaving the two in brief but blissful silence. “... Fine.” Another half hour or so was spent gazing at the sky, swapping old memories and jokes, crickets chirping during the kind of comfortable silences you only get with the oldest of friends. However, before long, it was nearing midnight, and Mina had to be up early. She rolled over in the grass. “Hey. I’m going in now, you should probably go get some rest soon. You better not let me being gone ruin your sleep schedule.” He nodded. “Like I had one to begin with.” She didn’t even bother to muffle her laugh. If she woke the neighbors up, that was their problem. “Fair point.” She got up, waving over her shoulder as she started to walk off. “Wait a second.” He stood, too, brushing grass and dirt from his usually pristine pants. Walking over, he offered a fist. Mina grinned, and the two did the secret handshake that had taken so long to memorize back in second grade--almost every recess of the second quarter. She pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you.” “You don’t have to, you know.” She pulled back from the hug, enough to look him in the eye. “I really want to do this, so yes, I do.” “There are other options, though.” “No, there really aren’t.” She turned, waving one last time. “I’ll call you tomorrow, when the flight lands.” Alex sighed heavily. “I’ll talk to you then. Bye, Mina.” “Bye, Alex!” She went inside, got in bed, and before she knew it, the night had passed, and it was time to go to the airport. Once she got through the heavy traffic, and the equally headache-inducing process of getting into the actual airport, she stood with her bag, a bit overwhelmed by all the people bustling around her. Someone ran into her, almost knocking her over. “Jesus, watch where you’re going!” To her alarm, the mysterious person hugged her tightly. “What the--” “Mina, it’s me!” The person hugging her stepped back. “Wh--Alex? What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?” The boy smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “... Not anymore, no.” “You mean you got fired just so you could drive all the way down here to say goodbye again? Alex, c’mon, you could’ve just come over to my house before I left. I love you and all, no romo intended, but that’s just stupid.” “About that. Two things.” She tilted her head, as the two started walking towards some chairs. “Hmm?” “Well, first of all, Sofia stopped by my house earlier, when she couldn’t get into yours. She told me to say that she overslept.” Mina chuckled. “Typical Sofia.” “Yeah.” Alex smiled back, sitting down next to her. “Oh, right.” He reached into one of his luggage bags. “Because she couldn’t give it to you in person, here’s her goodbye gifts.” He handed over a pink envelope, a box of chocolates, and a tissue paper rose. Mina carefully opened the envelope, a grin spreading across her face as she pulled out the card, covered in glitter, obnoxious neon, and cardstock hearts glued all over. ‘HAPPY FOURTH BIRTHDAY!!!’, it had once proudly announced, before Sofia got her hands on it. It now read, ‘HAPPY exchange year!!!’, the new writing written a line above the old, which had been covered with glitter glue. The shiny four was sharpied the color of the German flag, and now had googly eyes, along with a small folded piece of paper. Inside, it said that ‘me + you = heart’. Not a heart drawn in place of the word, just the word, written out. Opening the card, she saw that every inch was covered in familiar cursive, this time in a glittery green gel pen. She closed it again, making a mental note to read it when she was alone on the plane. Alex glanced over at the card. “Wow, you guys are still doing that most obnoxious card challenge?” Mina nodded. “You know it.” “It’s been, what, years now?” “Yep! Since our one month anniversary, back in freshman year.” Alex blinked. “Jeez. That’s dedication.” Mina shrugged. “Well, if we ever stopped, then we’d have to pick a winner. And neither of us want to lose.” He laughed. “Then what’s the point?” “Hey, it’s fun! Plus, it’s not something a ton of couples do. It’s our thing.” “So… Does that mean it’s unironic now?” “Maybe it does.” She crossed her arms, forcing a glare onto her face. He copied her, looking her in the eye. It took only seconds before they both dissolved into laughter at how weird the other’s expression was. “God, I hate you.” “Aww, thanks.” Mina focused her gaze back on Sofia’s gifts, eyes landing on the box of chocolates. “Oh, my god.” “What is it?” “I’m dating the world’s most lovable idiot. Look at this.” She gestured towards the candy. “I do not want to deal with getting this through security.” “Oh, yeah, yikes. It was annoying enough the first time, and I don’t think they even spotted it.” “God, I love her, but… Wow.” “Yeah. So… What are you going to do?” “You mean, what are we going to do?” “Huh?” “I can’t eat the whole thing fast enough by myself, duh.” “But it was a gift from--” “If you care that much, you can buy both of us something small later. Come on, we need to hurry, before I have to get on the plane.” She opened the box, handing Alex a peanut butter one. “Also, I’m pretty sure she knew we’d share, because I hate this kind, and they’re your favorite.” “Oh. You’re right.” A few chocolates in, Mina remembered what Alex had said initially. “Hey, didn’t you say you had two things to tell me about earlier?” “Oh! Right! I almost forgot.” “Hmm?” “I’m coming with you to Germany.” Mina blinked, pinching her arm without even thinking about it. “Ow.” Alex snorted. “Did you really have to check if you were awake or not? Mina, oh my god. You can’t taste food in dreams, you didn’t even need to—“ “You’re doing what?!” “I’m going to take an exchange year, in Germany, too. We could even be roommates, if you want.” “Of course, but—Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” “I tried to, but you kept thinking I was talking you out of going.” Mina felt the twinge of guilt. “Oh. Sorry I kept cutting you off.” He waved a hand. “No, you’re good. I should’ve started my sentences more clearly.” “I just… Are you sure about doing this?” Alex nodded. “Of course I am. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe, but I also wanted to make sure I could speak the language, so I’d been thinking about England. But…” “You also know German because you picked the class so we could have more together,” Mina finished. “That, and needing the language credits, but yeah. I can probably speak enough German to go to stores, and I’m sure someone will be able to translate if I really need it.” “I mean, I can.” “Exactly! So that’s not an issue. Other than that? My grades are good enough, my parents agreed as long as I’ll try to mail them kinder eggs, and I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to change my mind at this point.” Mina leaned over, and hugged him tightly. “God, this is going to be the best year school year ever.” Conversation slowed, before turning to small talk. Despite the vast difference in location, it didn’t take long before the inside jokes and old memories of lying in the yard last night returned, continuing into the lines after they stood up to go towards where their flight would be, commenting on odd luggage and outfits, trying to guess destinations, and eventually inventing a sort of traveler’s bingo. As Alex tried to justify the soccer mom he’d possibly spotted, Mina, while debating just as intensely as him, could barely believe how lucky she was to have such a good friend. Especially as they finally boarded the plane, she just kept dwelling on how lucky she was to have him by her side. Not that she would have admitted to it out loud, but if she was to be entirely honest with herself? She had been terrified of doing all of this alone. Sofia, while she would’ve loved to travel with her, was too busy trying to ace all her AP classes, which she was extremely successful at. That success was something Sofia didn’t care to risk, because she was on track for some really good scholarships. Alex, however, had high grades and all, but also had money set aside for college since he was a baby, paid for by wealthy grandparents. He had no reason to worry about a little stumble in grades while he adjusted. Plus, despite being one of the most charismatic people she’d ever met, he had trouble making close friends, and a strong attachment to consistency in life. Which, she realized, meant her friendship was the absolute strongest piece of that consistency, even above living in an entire country. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly once more. “I’m so glad you’re my best friend.” “I’m so happy I know you, too.” As the plane landed, Mina was incredibly excited to start this new chapter of her life. She was excited for new adventures, and excited to be in new places. She was excited to meet new people, try different foods, and have new experiences. Most of all, though, she was excited to do all of it with her best friend, Alex, by her side.
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By Aojea Mon Dong, '19
“Raphael! Can you get me my files?” “Yeah, on it!” Raphael grabs a small towel and dries off his dusted hands. He claps his hands dry then drops off the towel on table as he walks away from counter. Leaving the kitchen for a momentary trip, Raphael walks down the hall to the last door at the end. He peeks inside then enters the office. After a quick look around, Raphael grabs a file folder with a quiet cheer to himself. He tucks the folder underneath his arm and leaves the office. “Got it,” Raphael calls out. He steps into the doorway of the kitchen and waves the file folder with a smile. He walks up to Lincoln to hand over what his older cousin needs. “Thanks man,” Lincoln says. He takes the offering. “So you ready for tonight?” Lincoln says as he flips through papers. At a drop of a hat, Raphael becomes exasperated as he thinks about later today. He crosses his arms, “Was a reminder really necessary?” “Duh. Of course. ” “Jesus, you give me heartburn.” “The only person who gives you heartburn is Harri-” “Shut the hell up!” Raphael hisses after slapping the folder shut in Lincoln’s hands. He releases his grip with a warning clear in his eyes. Lincoln yanks his hands and rubs at them with mock hurt in his eyes. “He’s not in here right now, he’s up front.” Lincoln grabs an edge of paper peeking out from the folder and slides it out. He takes out a pen from the pocket of his apron and looks up, “Calm down you baby. You better leave those feelings in a suitcase and packed away for you blind date.” Raphael breathes out from his nostrils slowly. He stares at his cousin. Lincoln stares back. It’s a staring contest. Minutes pass by as they look at each other, a familiar habit from younger years rising back up to the surface. “Hey Lincoln!” Raphael breaks away first. Lincoln smiles in triumph. “What’s up Harrison?” The aforementioned man is by the doorway connected to the storefront. He beckons Lincoln over with a gesture. He spots Raphael a second later and a big smile appears on his lips. Harrison gives a friendly wave to him and Raphael awkwardly acknowledges him back, caught off guard by the surprise. Before Lincoln goes back to the storefront, he leans in close and pats the younger man on the back. “Remember, you’re off the clock early today, ‘kay?” Lincoln says, not really expecting an answer since he walks off immediately afterwards. Raphael chews on the insides of his cheek. He shakes his head. He goes back to his original spot in front of the flour. Raphael briefly wets his hand with water then applies the flour to his palms. He grabs the ball of dough he left on the cutting board. Raphael goes back to working on the supposed crepe he was about to make earlier. Raphael looks down at the mess lying on the board. He doesn’t know how to make a crepe. Raphael turns around to lean against the countertop but nearly shrieks in terror. “My god Harry! Don’t do that!” Raphael wheezes out as he clutches at his apron. Harry laughs at his reaction, the edges of his eyes crinkling happily. The surprise melts away into warmth as Raphael watches Harry laugh in delight. The other man shakes his head, laughter dying down and Raphael already misses his cute crinkles. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Harry says with an apologetic smile. He nods at the board behind Raphael. “I caught up front for a bit but I’m here now. You look like you’re having some trouble.” Raphael crosses his arms and slides over for Harry. “Hah… yeah, a little,” Raphael says with a tinge of embarrassment. “Don’t worry, it’s all fine! I’ll help you out,” Harry assures. “You sure you really want me to be your lil’ baking assistant? Johnny’s a pretty good choice….” Harry shoots Raphael a look, “Of course I do. You need someone to shadow at the bakery regardless so easy peasy, we’re partners.” Harry gently nudges him, “Besides, I always wanted an intern to help me out.” “Intern? Wow. Thanks,” Raphael shakes his head with mock hurt. “Lighten up. Ralphie. You’ll be fine under my wing.” Harry points to the cup of mixed yolks, “Pass it over, please.” Raphael reaches out and grabs onto the cup. He goes to offer it but for some reason life wanted to spit in his face so his stupid fingers accidentally lets go of the cup and it hits the table. The yolks end up flying and splattering on Harry like a spray of yellow ocean waves. Raphael is mortified. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry Harry! Let me go get the towels!” Raphael speeds away, flustered. He grabs a roll of paper towels from a countertop and comes back to dirty employee. He rips the towels apart and hands them to Harry with warmth burning in his cheeks. “Ralphie, it’s fine,” Harry reaches out and grabs his hand with his own. He squeezes Raphael’s hand with a bright smile then lets go. “This is no problem, you’re good.” “But still! I’m so sorry, let me make this up to you!” Raphael shakes the towels. Harry takes the towels from him and begins to wipe away at the yolks. “No really, it’s fine.” “No. I insist.” Harry raises his eyebrows at Raphael. He relents a second later and goes back to wiping, “If you really want.” Raphael nods in earnest. He hands over more paper towels when Harry holds out his hand. Raphael stares at the stains littering his apron, clothing and even skin. Raphael’s face starts to warm again so he looks away. He busies himself by cleaning up the rest of the eggs that are spilled on the counter. Raphael hears footsteps coming in from the doorway and looks up to see Lincoln. “Hm? Something happening here?” Lincoln says. He moves over to them and his eyebrows raise in surprise when he takes in the sight of a disheveled Harry. He spares a glance at Raphael. Harry smiles and shrugs nonchalantly, “I dropped eggs on myself.” “Oh damn,” Lincoln tsks. Raphael knows that Lincoln barely believes what Harry said. “Well it works in your favor since I came by to tell you that your shift has ended for the day. You can go home now.” Harry nods in confirmation, “Thanks Lincoln, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Take care, man.” He turns to Raphael with a soft smile, “I’ll see you later, don’t get too hung up by this.” The employee wipes off his hands. He pats Raphael on the shoulder and leaves the kitchen. When the room is empty save for the cousins, Lincoln claps his hands. His cousin turns to Raphael with a knowing look. “You did it.” “Yeah… I don’t know why he tried to cover it up.” Lincoln squishes Raphael’s face, “Because he likes you!” He sings in a childish voice. Lincoln begins to move around, squishing his cheeks as he dances in place. Raphael decides not to humor him and stays quiet. Raphael thinks back to Harry. He’s curious as to why the man’s shift ended early. Despite his curiosity, Raphael packs his thoughts away. It’s Harry’s own business anyways. Raphael hopes he didn’t mess up whatever plans he had for the rest of the evening. “Hey.” Raphael is shaken from his trance by Lincoln. When Raphael focuses his eyes back on Lincoln, the older cousin squeezes his face again. “Stop worrying about him. You didn’t do anything bad. He’s gonna be fine.” “I mean, I hope so.” A sudden wave of embarrassment washes over him again. Raphael shuts his eyes close, “God damnit, I’m so embarrassed. Ooohhh my god.” “You whiny baby, chill out. You’re done for the day too for your date so let’s move it. Feel guilty some other time.” Lincoln grabs Raphael on the shoulder and maneuvers him out the kitchen. The duo move down the halls and out the back of the store. They step out into the chilly parking lot. Lincoln walks them to where his car is parked and lets go Raphael. The cousins get inside the car, both sighing in relief when the chill of the wind no longer hits them. Lincoln starts the car, reverses from his spot and drives off from the bakery. “I think you’re ready now!” Lincoln says as he steps away from Raphael. “Get ready to get on the field, tiger!” Raphael looks in the full length mirror. He pats himself down absentmindedly, thoughts already running off to Harry. Smoothing down the denim jacket, Raphael wonders how Harry’s doing. The two of them have known each other for a while now. It wasn’t love on first sight. It was more like a sudden explosion that happened seemingly out of nowhere. Harry said something funny that had him doubling over in laughter then Harry smiled at him, reminiscent of the sun itself. In just one moment, Raphael felt himself gravitate to Harry like the earth. He hasn’t been able to leave his orbit ever since. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful or not for this blind date Lincoln set up for him. Raphael glances at Lincoln. Lincoln meets his eyes and smiles, softer. He rubs his shoulder in encouragement. Raphael doesn’t miss the quick knowing look that flashes lightning quick in Lincoln’s eyes. Raphael looks back at the mirror again, he gets the feeling he’ll know soon enough. “Ready as I could ever be,” Raphael mutters after enough mental preparation. Lincoln throws an arm around his shoulders. “Alright then, let’s go.” Lincoln parks in front of a cozy little cafe. He leans back from the wheel and flashes a thumbs up at Raphael. “Remember, call me if anything happens!” Lincoln says. “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Raphael nods away his cousin’s worry. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leaves the passenger seat. He waves goodbye to the car before turning back and walking towards the cafe with a mix of emotions trailing after him. Pulling open the glass door, Raphael is greeted with the warmth of the store. After going up to the cashier to order a latte, Raphael goes to sit where Lincoln told him. He cozies up in the corner booth, sinking in the black pillows of the booth. Raphael waits nervously after taking a seat and starts to fiddle with his phone. Minutes pass by and an employee comes by to hand the ordered drink over. Raphael accepts it graciously, cradling the cup in his hands. He takes some sips to calm himself down from the nervous energy building in his bones. “Hey, Ralphie.” Raphael looks up with a shock. Harry greets him with the same smile that always sends his heart racing. He’s dressed up all nicely and warm for the weather. The other man takes the seat across from him with his own drink. “Lincoln is quite the matchmaker, isn’t he?” “What, what? You’re my date?” Raphael asks. “Yep. I, uh, hope you’re not too disappointed!” “No, no, never!” He reassures way too quickly. His face blushes instantly. Raphael internally cringes at his response and tries again. “Uh, I mean. No… you’re a pretty good choice.” Raphael is completely embarrassed. He said that way too quickly and he just had to repeat himself afterwards. He’s digging his own grave in front of Harry. Harry smiles, his eyes curling into cute crescents. He leans on to his elbow, “I’m glad to hear that.” He reaches out and taps the table on Raphael’s side. “Since you wanted to make it up for me so much earlier, how about you try to enjoy this date with me?” Raphael can only nod silently to Harry’s request. The two of them are outside of the store, their date officially finished for the night. It might be a little biased but Raphael thinks he had an amazing time with Harry. It was great. Harry is charming, so very charming. Everything felt so natural after the initial phase of embarrassment. Despite the chilly night, Raphael is warmer than he could ever be. Harry coughs into his fist to get Raphael’s attention. He turns towards Harry with a curious look. “Can I kiss you?” Harry asks almost… nervously? Raphael goes wide eyed. He short circuits on the spot. When Harry pats him on the arm is when Raphael returns back to his body. “Um, yeah. Sure, I, uh, cool. Yeah,” Raphael tries not to die on the spot. Harry had the dignity to laugh at his nervous reaction. Harry steps closer and leans in. He lays a hand onto Raphael’s upper arm as he nears. A gentle press of their lips happens and it feels like a chorus of angels are singing inside Raphael’s mind. Harry pulls away and smiles oh so warmly. They wave each other goodbyes as Harry leaves the parking lot while Lincoln pulls up at the same time. Raphael opens the passenger door in a daze and slides in. “How was it?” Lincoln asks with a teasing tone. “I want a second date,” Raphael breathes out dreamily. Lincoln laughs in delight. By Phoebe Kim, '20
Did you ever notice that people look sad in their cars? I’ve noticed since I was five. Where is the smile on a lone person? Why do people look sad when they think no one can see? When did I become the answers to these questions? I notice myself in the car now, Unfeeling. Not smiling. Not gleeful. Where is the five year old in me to call me out? Did she grow up? Why? Why don’t people play anymore? Why did I stop playing? Why? Why is there uncertainty as you get older? Why do I wish I was young again when I wanted to grow up? Why? Why do people ask questions that no one can answer? By Luna Murphy, '20
Dear bad boys what is it that makes you bad? What makes you call the silent kid in the back a Fag Little do you know his mom is home struggling with depression that is slowly seeping into his Sister who refuses to leave the house You treat them like dirt in fear of what you are becoming The victims will forever wonder if they'd done something But it’s all because of the image The image of what is cool and accepted Where did the good guys go The ones that said please and thank you Or even just a simple hello The ones that stood by you through the divorce and the hardest days High school molded you like clay They took something pure with much potential and shaped you into what they thought people would like Then laid you out to harden and dry But you’ll crack eventually it’s inevitable Us girls don’t swoon when you whistle at us like a owner trying to get there dog to come to them What makes you think being treated like a animal is what a girl wants in a relationship I am not your bitch When did you become so close minded You text me and say you love me The next you said you made love to me to your buddies The boys pat you on the back and congratulate you while the girls stare reminiscing in the horrific thing I did Now they see me as the bad girl But not the one that gets praised for being bad But the one that is so disgusting you refuse to even look at her because it’s sad Instead you keep the rumors going without a second thought if it was true or not I should never of said I loved you It was the way you fooled my young heart Maybe instead of a bad boy you’re a hustler on the street playing games You convince me it’s simple and easy with nothing to it Then you trick me leaving me with nothing but shame and an empty heart Tell me is it so hard to say I look beautiful or even nice? You say you compliment me all the time but a slap on the ass and a sour ” you look sexy lemme Hit that” does not make me feel beautiful What have you become This bad boy image should not have overcome the good guy you used to be I don’t know why I stayed Maybe it was because I was afraid Of what you might say to others Or because deep down I know someday you will change Why do you care what the world thinks of you anyways What happened to it just being us When we would walk the dusty and crowded halls entrapped by all the noise yet somehow you still listened to me You stopped that You said women don't deserve to be listened to because the upper class lacrosse mvp was preaching it at practice Well what happened to my preachings The ones where I said everyone should be equal and have the same rights The ones where no one should have to put up a fight to feel comfortable and happy in their own skin no matter the gender or color I think that in society we care more about what others think of us rather than the ones who really do care about us. And I get it It's hard to brush off what people think about you But if we can try to be accepting of one another then maybe the bad boy image with feather away And you will no longer feel like a lump of hardened clay. I miss you I know the good guy in you wants to come out Society just needs to take away that self doubt. This is my goodbye letter I decided it’s time I stop giving in to the bad boys. But when you decide to be kind again and make the right choice then i’d love for you to send me a letter Yours truly, You made me stronger By Elizabeth Ekstrand, '21
What has to give? This I ask myself as I meet varying sets of eyes Theirs, my favorite eyes, full of passionate distraction The worn-down, sympathetic eyes of my colleagues and my bosses And, of course, the merciless orbs of those sitting up high in black, leather chairs I fight to deceive myself into thinking they understand though they’ve never seen my students get out of hand, physically, mentally, socially, emotionally... What has to give? I already asked myself, figuring I knew the answer Big bucks, for one. The awe and appreciation of the masses. Gleaming, polished workplaces and sleep lasting all morning. To me, none of this weighed a pound compared to the vast reward of shaping this nation’s youth. Engraved on the predominant wall of my mind is a noun beginning with excel The word that I fight for each day with five different groups I am told this one word separates the masters of my profession from the inadequate We are left to become sanitized duplicates Often, it is not a what, so much as a who. Who has to give? This I ask myself as a screen emerges in my mind: “set pressure.” Do I keep it at one hundred percent? The ones I must run after might give me a breath, But others will be up at 2 AM polishing their work Convinced I am the difference between life and death. Do I set it to fifty percent? Will most of them declare their effort spent? How to demonstrate I legitimately care when all we see in each other is wear and tear? Who has to give? All these school years of striving for the ideal Then I was instructed to keep it real, That personality should only come long after- after I prove that my students’ scores can stay high What has to give, In this free country, where those who train the future face the greatest number of chains? What has to give When my lips, which to them hold riches, no longer produce sound when I say three words: “you’ll be fine?” What has to give? The moment I begin to carry out the quest of the leather chairs, my students’ eyes glaze over. When I talk to them, attempt to gain back the light, their dull eyes immediately forgive me. “It’s okay. This is the reality of getting into a good college and finding a good job.” Teeth-gritting, uninspiring work does hold a significant role in this world. I am proud to say that they are learning about reality. That I am teaching them perseverance. They must learn the hard lessons as well. But is the rat-race reality, or a very realistic illusion? Leather chairs, You do not know my students. You have no inkling of what real twenty-first century skills are. I am not a proponent of school choice the way you see it, but please, let us have some autonomy, some understanding. Would you buy the same food for every meal? I will replace the engraving in my mind. stamp out those letters that mean absolutely nothing without the letters that will replace them. Carved out, painstakingly, but differently for every state every town every school every student. E… d… u… c... By Jacob Januchowski, '21
Why do we have dreams? Is it a sign, are they real? Is it something that you wished would have happened, but didn't? Is it something, once loved, but now a distant memory? It's a life that we always wished to live. Dreams leave us alone anid sad by showing us love and happiness by the people you always wished loved you. Dreams aren't real, they only show you what you want, but can't have. DREAMS KILL DREAMS! By Andres Angeles-Paredes, '20
Two figures ran through the blank halls of a government department. They had just entered the lobby nearing the entrance, when suddenly, an alarm rang that echoed throughout the building. “Caution!” A man spoke on the intercom system. “Two rebel numbers have just escaped imprisonment, Ford-5862 and Scarlett-3401. They are armed and dangerous! All available guards converge on the exits!” Instantly, two armored men stationed at the doors began to fire at them with electric pistols. The figures evaded the shots and fired back with their own weapons. They fled through the exit doors, returning once again to the maze of hallways that they called their life. One of the rebels was a young woman with short striking red hair. Known as Scarlett-3401, she had always been skeptical of the world she lived in. She never seemed to adjust to the endless white corridors of the Aftercode, the surveillance filled environment that identified civilians by numbers and repressed those that differed from what was standard. Where an unseen government ruled over a uniform working class that lived in colorless complexes and worked in dull establishments. Scarlett knew there was something beyond this mundane world. She didn’t know what it was, but she was determined to find out. The person running with her was known as Ford-5862, a dark haired friend of Scarlett that shared her opposition to their restrictive world. They had devised a plan just hours earlier that they believed would lead them to the truth. In an obscure area of the enclosed Aftercode was a hallway that no one was permitted to enter. Narrow and fenced off, it was unknown to many. At the end of this hall was a mysterious yellow door that no one ever entered or came out of. It seemed to be permanently shut, and it was a striking contrast to the blank scenery of the Aftercode. To Scarlett and Ford, this was something they needed to uncover if they were to discover what was being hidden. They had agreed to investigate the area and get past the door, if possible, but they were arrested for suspicious behavior before they could carry out their plan. Now breaking free from their imprisonment, they were ready to escape from the Aftercode, their true prison. The domed cameras on the ceilings watched their every move. The gaze was unavoidable, but their priority was to evade the guards. They fled through blank corridor after blank corridor aimlessly until they stopped to catch their breath. “What’s the plan?” asked Ford between breaths. “We go to the door,” Scarlett replied. “I think it’s safe to say we’re past the point of no return.” Heavy footsteps echoed from behind them, so they continued the chase. “There’s no way we can lose them,” Ford said. “They’ll know where we’re going.” Scarlett knew this and tried to come up with a solution, but she couldn’t think. Suddenly, a whistle blew off in the distance. Scarlett realized it must be 8:00, the time when citizens were due for work. “Follow me,” she said to Ford, “I have an idea.” Ford understood what she was talking about. As they ran, the halls began to fill with more and more people. Eventually they reached a large open space that was packed with citizens going to their jobs. A sea of civilians dressed in deep blue outfits were going in every direction and bumping into each other. This has got have to slow them down, Scarlett thought. They began pushing through the tight crowd when they heard shouting come from behind them. Scarlett turned and saw a group of guards yelling at them. One of them aimed his gun and tried to shoot Ford. He missed and hit the wall on the opposite side, making the rush hour worse. Everyone began to scatter around in panic. Scarlett and Ford made it to an exit hall and fled the wild crowd, leaving the group of guards to deal with the situation. Monitors lined along the walls flashed photographs of Ford and Scarlett and speakers broadcasted warnings. They just kept running being careful not to make a wrong turn. The corridors soon became empty and quiet. Finally, they reached a narrow hallway blocked by a gate. Scarlett blasted an opening with her pistol and entered with Ford. No cameras could be seen, and most of the lights had gone out. They turned left and saw the yellow door. The duo both went up to the metal door and used all the strength they had until it broke open. It was even darker inside, but there was a red light in the distance. The rebels looked at each other and then walked through the doorway with no knowledge of what was to come next. The dark passage led into a red-lit room surrounded by pipes and machinery, something Scarlett and Ford weren’t too familiar with. There was a low ambience that rumbled around them. On one end was a door labeled ‘Command Chambers.’ They entered it and continued to explore what they hoped was an escape route. Dividing hallways connected rooms filled with computers, wires, and empty storage boxes. The lights were dim and everything felt empty. “What was this place?” Ford asked. “I’m not sure. It looks like a network of monitoring stations although it looks like no one’s been here in a long time.” They continued through more abandoned rooms and passageways until a screeching noise disturbed the silence. A man’s voice began to speak from an old intercom system. “Scarlett? Ford?” The rebels recognized the voice as a government official who had interrogated them. Static interrupted his words. “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t leave. You don’t know anywhere to go. Please stay where it’s safe…” The broadcast faded away. We’ve got to be going somewhere, Scarlett thought. There has to be something greater than the Aftercode. If they weren’t hiding something, what would all this secrecy be for? Scarlett and Ford continued traveling through the new industrial maze, uncertain of what was to come. Their determination remained strong despite their fear of the unknown. They reached staircases and more lifeless areas. It didn’t seem to end, but it was vastly different from what they grew up with. Eventually, they encountered a door labeled Air Shaft. Air shaft? Scarlett thought. It must lead somewhere. They opened it and were blasted with immense forces of wind that caught them off balance. The air shaft was a massive vertical tunnel with a pitch black top and bottom. Warm strong winds flowed heavily from the top, producing a harsh noise of rushing air. A railed ledge surrounded the tunnel, and a ladder led to another ledge farther up. “Where do you think it leads to?” Ford shouted against the raging winds. Scarlett shrugged. “Freedom, hopefully. Looks like we don’t have much of a choice.” Scarlett began to climb the ladder and Ford followed behind. They were halfway to the second ledge when they heard shouting from below. Scarlett looked down and saw the group of guards from before, pointing at them and barking commands at each other. One was already pursuing them on the ladder. I thought we were safe. Scarlett told Ford to climb faster. One of the guards took his pistol and began to shoot upon the escapists. The wind made it difficult to aim properly, but the shots were making it close. Please, no. We’ve come so far. “Keep going Scarlett!” Ford shouted. “Make it up–” A carefully aimed shot punctured Ford in his shoulder. Scarlett looked down at her wounded companion. Before she could do anything to help, he fell backwards into the abyss with terror in his eyes and was gone. Scarlett kept climbing although tears were already falling from her face. The guards continued to fire, and the one on the ladder was approaching fast. Once she made it to the top ledge, she aimed her weapon and fired at the group with all her fury. Sparks exploded across the railings and walls. Some guards fell down the pit as well. She didn’t stop until all her pursuers were dead. Scarlett left the air tunnel through a door on the ledge and ran through the halls. She wasn’t sure if another dispatch had been sent for her. She faced a dead end but then saw an air vent on the side of the wall. She climbed through it and exited into a winding staircase. Being sure that they couldn’t follow her tracks, she stopped and knelt down. I promise I will escape Ford. I will find the truth no matter how I get there. After a moment, she began to climb the staircase. She traversed through more grey stairs and faded corridors. Some rooms she entered reminded her of the government department she was imprisoned in. No matter what path she took, Scarlett always seemed to find a way to progress through the maze-like network. As she continued through the empty halls, however, she realized she was advancing upwards. She kept finding more stairs, and she even felt a slight incline in the corridors. How far am I above the Aftercode? Is there anything else above me? Am I trapped? What if there’s nothing for me to discover? Her brief panic was interrupted by another echoing screech. The old intercoms transmitted garbled noises. “Do you see what your rebelliousness has cost you, Scarlett?” It was the same government official from before. “You are all alone now. Your illegal decisions have led you nowhere. The guards can’t find you anymore, so you need to return right now.” Scarlett wasn’t listening. She had entered into a large hallway that sloped noticeably upwards. All the separate pathways seemed to lead up it. At the end was a red metal door, outlined by a bright light on the other side. Is this what I’ve been fighting for? Did I make it? She began to approach the door. “Just what do you think you’re doing Scarlett? Listen to me. Come back to the Aftercode.” Scarlett could hear his uncertainty. “This is your last chance. You don’t know where you’re going…” The voice faded away, this time for good. She stood in front of a faded exit sign that hung on the metal door. The sight wasn’t unfamiliar, but for some reason, she felt a strong inclination to go to the other side. No longer a part of the Aftercode. No more plans. Nothing to lose. The truth has to be worth the effort. She shot open the locked door and fled through it, entering into long wide tunnel with an almost blinding light at the end. Scarlett exited the tunnel and paused for a moment. She had never been in such an open space. She stood on the edge of a huge cliff overlooking a wide field in a mountainous location. Bending down, she ran her fingers over the ground. It was coarse and rough to the touch, different from the cold tiled floors that she was accustomed to. She noticed that the intense light was all coming from one source far away in the far distance. She also recognized the massive ceiling although it didn’t feel like a ceiling. It was endless, bright, and colored a beautiful light blue. It can’t be real. Scarlett thought. I feel so free. The air is so fresh and warm. She turned to the tunnel that led back into her former home. No more lies. They must learn the truth that there’s so much more to life than that enclosed prison. They need to believe in freedom and their own identity. I made it, Ford. Now others will make it too. She began to walk around and explore the new world. As she walked along the side of the cliff, the source of light in the distance began to lower. The expansive ceiling started to change color from a light blue to a deep pink. The source of light also changed its bright color into a warm orange-red. It was a sight so unimaginable to Scarlett that she stared at it for a long time. By Andres Angeles-Paredes, '20
January 20th The celebrations in our little town began right when sunlight was visible on the desert horizon. Preparations for the festivities have been going for nearly a week, and almost every citizen was participating to help. Banners decorated the small buildings and hung across the narrow streets. Everyone was especially eager for Reminiscence Day this year. If I remember correctly, this is the 50th anniversary. All the markets have decided to display themes and images of remembrance. The Research Facility is holding an exhibition for the public. Old newspapers and film clips will be a part of the presentation, detailing the fateful events of the First Day. That day when the strength of society crumbled. When a strong nation became plagued by its own forces. At this point, it’s only a vague memory to me, but I was alive then. I can faintly remember the fresh air turning into a dark haze, sirens invading the sounds of peace, and the sky blazing with fire as the first day of devastation begun. Cities turned into ash heaps, and our thriving government propelled into ruin. Wastelands soon became commonplace for the handful of survivors that managed to endure the anarchy. Alone in an unfamiliar world, we tried to seek any remnants of society, yet our search was hopeless. It would’ve ended that way if we were not discovered by the being that had descended from above to guide us in rebuilding our lives. While we were fearful at the time, nowadays no one would come close to forgetting the almighty Orb that saved us from destruction and brought us prosperity. It, too, will be recognized today as the public will be allowed to enter the Chamber of Control in the center of town and view the spectacle of the black sphere that governs our community. It may not respond to the citizens when they arrive, but it will be praised immensely and with much gratitude. January 21st Reminiscence Day continued all throughout the night. Bonfires in the streets lit up the dark blue sky and cheers could be heard from every block. While the holiday was established for the mourning and remembrance of the First Day, it also serves to be a celebratory motivator. I gave a mayoral address saying that even through merciless devastation, we have survived and our determination will continue to lead us forward to a hopeful future. It received ebullient applause from the crowd. The Chamber of Control held almost a majority of the town in anticipation to see the Orb. While the building is forbidden to all except qualified officials, an exception is always made on Reminiscence Day. Everyone of every age viewed the obsidian entity, hovering a few feet above the ground in its dim cell. As expected, it wasn’t active to the public, yet it's comforting presence could be felt. I remember a young child looking at the sphere with wonder and questioning whether it was from this planet. Maybe the next few generations will crack the mystery. Then again, it may be a puzzle that will be left unsolved. Even with my direct communications, I know no more about it than when it first arrived. However, it’s reassuring to know that the town doesn’t seem to be disturbed by the being. They have all simply accepted it and learned to abide its commands. Aside from cleaning up the celebration items, the day was calm throughout. Nothing to report from the Orb. January 25th It’s always interesting to address it alone within its cell. It seems to look upon you without eyes and judges its decisions silently. Talking to it is like speaking to a soundproof wall. Your words get no response, but they’re absorbed without an echo. While it’s an unusual feeling, there’s somehow a sense of resolve and peace that emanates from the sphere as if it’s confident in what it chooses to do. For some issues that are brought up, the Orb takes time to make a decision. For others, it responds immediately. The words appear always in green text on the sphere’s glistening surface, indicating the final choice that it has made. The being has an unusual aura that can be felt throughout the town and compels us to follow its wishes. It’s not against our will, but it’s also not in anyone’s favor to go against what the Orb requests. February 2nd In all my years as Mayor, I can’t remember a more tense and shocking week than this last one. I scarcely have enough time to be describing it now. The Chamber of Control has been my residence and the residence of countless other personnel for the past few days. It all began on the 26th when we received a video transmission from one of our neighboring cities. The town’s leader accused us of trespassing in an attempt to incite conflict in their city. She explained that a group of young adults of our own had attacked and injured three citizens. After a brief skirmish, they were taken under custody. The leader reminded us of our peace agreement, which had now been broken, to leave one another alone. Threatening to kill the trespassers if any violent response was made, she told us to mend the truce. In deep confusion, everyone at the Chamber scrambled for answers. As it turns out, a small class of individuals left town under the cover of night. It seems that they had ventured in the wrong direction and were found on the property of our neighbors. Never having faced a hostage situation to this extent before, I immediately consulted the Orb. The time it took to respond may have been the longest it has ever taken. I had to leave its cell and manage delivering this news to the public. Nearly 15 hours had passed before it answered in its green words: “Deliver a statement of apology and request that the prisoners be released. Assure the city that this will never happen again. If they refuse, do nothing.” That last part didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t willing to lose some loyal citizens to a conflict of this kind, no matter how reckless they were. For a moment, I had lost the Orb’s sense of security, but I quickly reassured myself. After carefully following the directions, three gripping days passed with no word from the city. Finally on the 30th, we got another transmission. Although seemingly frustrated, the leader agreed to a deal. If the prisoners were to be returned, we had to pay a tribute of supplies and uphold the agreement of privacy thereafter. The exchange would take place on the 3rd of February, and it would occur with no weapons of any kind. I didn’t trust this. It’s hard for me to believe that a city, which has made it clear that it wishes to remain isolated, is willing to return trespassers peacefully without any serious consequences on our part. Along with this, we have no significant knowledge about that city to accurately judge their behavior. For all we know, the exchange may be a ruse for an execution of the hostages, or even worse, an invasion of our town. It was unsettling to say the least. I decided to inform the Orb of the deal in the hopes that it would have a better solution. After another lengthy wait, it gave me an answer that only worsened my fears. “Follow the leader” I stared at the projected text on the shining exterior, my stunned face looking back at me. I asked the Orb if this truly was the best approach. I expressed my worries and how unsafe the whole situation was. The words vanished for a moment, but then reappeared in the same exact format. “Follow the leader.” I tried again and again to explain how vulnerable our town was to this unknown threat. I told it that in moments like these, we needed the guidance of an all-powerful being. We needed a resolute decision from the almighty Orb. However, each time, it only repeated that one phrase in green letters. “Follow the leader.” For the first time in my life, I felt like I could not rely on the Orb. Its aura of comfort and protection had disappeared and was replaced by emotionless plain words that served no help at all. Whether or not the Orb had simply misjudged the information was beyond me. What mattered was that I had to do what I felt was best. My duty is to enact the orders of the supreme entity, but above all, keep my town safe. If that means that we must take every precaution necessary, then so be it. Tomorrow, a selected team and I will go out to the established meeting area. I’ve decided that I will brief them beforehand of the danger at hand and entrust them all with firearms. In my eyes, this situation constitutes the use of these weapons. We do not want to ignite conflict, but we will be ready in the event that it occurs. February 3rd Tragedy has struck. Absolute tragedy. The team and I traveled outside our town’s limits to the destination of the exchange. The heat was especially intense that day even though the sky was clouded. The requested supplies were carried along in a small truck that would transport the hostages back to town once they were returned. Nearly all of us contained a firearm of some kind concealed in our clothing. We positioned ourselves behind a large dune, laying on our stomachs and looking out onto a flat empty area. Soon enough, we saw some figures emerging from the haze on the other side of the plain. Four men and women, dressed in what appeared to be military clothing, brought five others who were tied up and blindfolded. Among the four troopers was the woman who had sent the transmissions. She addressed us to deliver the supplies. Two of our men tentatively volunteered to carry the crates of material over. Two people from the opposite side did the same, bringing the five hostages with them. Nearing the middle, they abruptly came to a halt and pushed the captives to the ground. The men with the supplies stopped as well in fear. Watching from our elevated position, I carefully moved my hand to my revolver. The desert plain began to look like a deadly arena for combative games. I wasn’t far off. One of the troopers, a man of dark complexion, placed himself right beside the blindfolded individuals. He stared in our direction and then reached into his military vest. Anticipating the worst, I withdrew my pistol, but then I heard a deafening shot that echoed through the air. I dropped my head out of shock and heard screams from the hostages, but when I looked up, none of them were harmed. Instead, the man next to them was lying still on the ground, a bleeding wound in his chest. I turned to my right, and I saw someone from our side holding a rifle that was aimed down at the exchange area. They had a frozen expression of alarm and dismay. There was a brief pause, and everything seemed to go quiet for a second before the other trooper approached the prisoners. He grabbed two of them, and the supply men began a sprint towards him. From this point forward, everything was chaos. I can barely recall running down the dune to help with the fight. There was another gunshot, and I saw the man with the two captives drop lifelessly. Somehow through the struggle, we attained all the hostages and raced back to the truck. When I looked back, the remaining troopers were attending to their casualties instead of giving chase. We quickly helped our rescued civilians on the transport and hurried to town. Upon making it home, we received cheers and applause. As the hostages were taken to a recovery center, I managed to slip away to the Chamber of Control. I didn’t want to see anybody, especially not the cursed object that lives there. I just needed some quiet for I was shaken by the whole incident. It wasn’t the violence or intensity that had moved me. It was a detail that I may have been the only one to notice. Amid the mayhem, I saw the body of the man who had been shot first. The hand he had used to reach into his vest was now outstretched by his side. In that hand was not a gun or weapon of any kind, but instead a piece of paper filled with handwritten paragraphs. The document’s title “Treaty of Seclusion” was stained with his blood. February 9th My attempt to be a thoughtful leader is turning everything into ruin. The guilt from that initial day has stayed with me ever since, knowing that I am the cause of the madness that’s afflicted us. We are on the verge of conflict. The public is scared and confused by the limited information they’re getting, but they don’t need to know everything that’s going on. We, officials, just need to deal with the situation first. Once it’s all over we’ll assure them they’re safe. Threats keep coming nonstop from the other town, however. They mention over and over our wasted chance at peace. Even when I’m by myself I hear those messages. I can’t stop seeing that treaty. The many tries that I’ve made to communicate with the Orb have been fruitless. Nothing emanates from it anymore, not even an unnerving or distressing feeling. Its cell is filled with cold emptiness. I’ve pleaded and begged. I don’t know if it can hear me or if it has gone dormant. I can only hope this silence is temporary. February 22nd I have failed my town. Every other week our town is bombarded by canons. Gunfire can be heard in the distance as our armies fight against the coalition of neighboring cities. Protests of citizens demanding peace fill the streets. Fire never ceases to burn here. Distant memories of the First Day now haunt me as the world returns to that state of destruction. I’ve left public addresses to my peers. I can’t face my citizens anymore. I wonder if they’ve noticed my absence. Now, I spend most of my time in the Orb’s cell even though it appears to me that it’s reign is over. With this demise, society has fallen again. If only I could go back and listen to it properly. I could fix the mess that’s devastating the remnants of humanity. I could have been a far better leader than the one I am now. When I look into the spherical mirror, there’s a judge that was never meant to rule. I can see the final words reflected back at me. They weren’t there before, yet now they’re permanent and fixed. I’m not sure if they’re real, but it doesn’t matter. I suppose it’s my retribution. Forgive me, almighty Orb. Forgive me. By Andres Angeles-Paredes, '20
So peaceful you are when you stand there still The thoughts of your mind rolling like a hill Our conversations feeling so endless Talking with you never seems like a mess How I hope and wish to take you with me Yet our time runs out like a melody I cherish the moments when I see you Your warm presence making me feel less blue With your sparkling eyes and radiant hair We will find time together anywhere Whether watching a sunset’s orange glow Or enjoying the breeze in a meadow By Annabel Fernandez
“Hello?" I whispered into the dark room. No response. I slipped inside, as subtly as possible. A witch's house was already cause for consternation, a mysterious one was too much. A candle was lit. It made little difference, but now, I could see the shape of a woman in a cloak approaching me. She paused to examine me, holding the candle so close to my head I thought that my hair would catch fire. "What do you want?" she croaked. From what I could see, I made out an elderly woman, smaller than myself, wearing an austere facial expression. I mumbled my answer. "A what?" "A love potion,” I muttered nervously. “Why would you need one of those?” She asked in an unpleasant tone. “To make someone fall in love with me. You see, back in my town, everyone's getting married, having children. Except for me. Try as I might, no man will succumb to my feminine wiles, despite my dire need for company.” I hoped she would accept my answer. She looked at me intensely. “Very well.” She said finally. “But you will have to repay me.” “Of course. How much?” I reached for my wallet. “I have no desire for money. You will repay me with two months assistance. And you will get your product after your labor. Come back tomorrow at eight o’clock sharp.” She commanded. I headed back home, dreaming of a brighter future. The next day I returned. When I entered, I encountered a much brighter lit room, cured of its sepulchral atmosphere for the night before. However, the old woman was not the only person there. Sedentary in the corner reading a book, there was a beautiful girl my age, one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen. She had ebony hair and bright hazel eyes, wearing a red dress and a thin, translucent cape over her shoulders. I stared at her until she looked up at me. “Grandmother, who is this?” She asked. “Odessa, meet Alexandria,” said the witch, somehow knowing my name. “She will be working for me for the next couple of months.” The elderly woman gave me a list. “I need you to collect these plants.” I skimmed down the list. “Ma’am, I don't recognize any of these.” She gave a disappointed grunt. “Odessa, you have been sitting around for hours. Go out and assist her with her hunt.” Odessa did not protest, and did as told. We walked in silence. “You're working for my grandmother for two months? I pity you.” And she was silent the rest of the day. And the first week. After the first couple of weeks, my task had been upped from grocery shopping in the woods to potion maker. Cooking had never been a skill of mine, and this required even more finesse. Half the time I couldn't even manage to light the fire. At some point, Odessa stopped chuckling at my failings and came over to help me. “Like this,” she said, lighting the match on her first strike. “Also, you're supposed to use the salt, not the sugar,” she handed the correct substance to me. Her help made my assignments much more efficient, and I enjoyed her company. One day I came to the place covered in streamers. “It’s Oddie’s birthday!” Said the witch, her demeanor completely changed. “We’re taking a break today. How about you and her her head out to get a cake, and I’ll finish putting up all the decorations!” I didn't know where she would put more decorations. Odessa, as usual, was devoid of enthusiasm, but in a new dress. And so we followed the witch’s instructions and headed to town. “She still thinks I’m seven.” “I think it’s sweet. My grandma was never this all-out. Of course, she had to deal with seven of us, so she was always a little tired.” I giggled. Odessa looked down. “I’m the only family she has left.” The conversation became an awkward silence until we arrived to the bakery. “Let me guess,” I said, looking at her clothes, “you like red velvet!” She giggled. “No, but I do like strawberry. Which is still kinda red.” “Debatable.” I replied. “Are you ready to get your party on?” “No.” “Not even for cake and presents?” I nudged her. “Okay, maybe I could muster enthusiasm for cake and presents.” She gave a small smile. I was glad she was warming up to me. Finally, I had reached my final day. Odessa and I spent the day on the standard chores, until the evening came. The witch gave us nets and instructed us to go the river to fish. The sunset was upon us and the river looked like a stream of embers. I held my net in the water and gazed us at the citrine sky. Unfortunately, I didn’t watch my footing and fell into the river headfirst. The water was freezing. “Good job,” Odessa guffawed. Her features were softly illuminated in the remaining sunlight. “Hey now, help me out!” I spat out the dregs of dirty river water. Fishes tickled my legs. “Alright, alright.” Odessa held her arms out and I grabbed her hands. “On the count of three. One, two, three, and up you go!” She pulled me out, and we both fell on top of each other. The sunset reflected off her eyes, and I doubted I was in need of a love potion anymore. |
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