Chapel Class Devotional Notes: My Sister, My Bride (Song 4:12) (2012-2013)

Question: How am I to relate to young ladies now? And when I wish to pursue marriage?

Personal Perspective
* Home and School

* Stories

What do you already know of sisters and brides?

Original Perspective

• Created good. 
• Dragon in the Garden. 
• Man's Intended Role: Defender, protector, tender. The Bible uses words like "cherish, nourish, provide, bless" for actions a husband should have toward his wife. 
• Examples:
• Abraham: Genesis 18:19 ff. He will teach his children to keep the way of the Lord.
• Samson, David, etc.
• Proverbial Reminders. Bad advice is bad company and corrupts good character. Prov. 4; Prov. 5. Keep strength, honor, wealth, and authority.
• You are building your future today.

Natasha Guaracha, 2012

                                         He That Would Love Life and See Good Days


The theme, he that would love life and see good days, is seen throughout my CWP. This

theme is evident in the heartfelt storyline which depicts the emotions and struggles of a man who

had everything he thought he wanted and in an instant taken away by a disease. Life can be very

chaotic and causes people to lose sight of what matters most, but life’s unforeseen challenges can

cause people to reevaluate their lives and what they want from them.

Devotion for 2011: Toward a Disciplined Imagination

1. Hiking...




Chip Ingram taught us to be R12 or Romans 12 teachers:
12:2 "And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God." This renewal is a purification of the imagination. Notice the discipline.

Imagination by Matthew Gaubatz

Imagination

Jason was an artist. All his life he had cultivated his imagination. He read books.

He wrote poetry. He painted pictures. He explored nature. He dreamed dreams. He daydreamed.

He imagined. He had such great ideas that he aspired to one day. Everything he did was so

original and creative. He wrote brilliant science fiction. He built up incredible worlds of fantasy.

He had the inside scoop of all great civilizations. He reinvigorated great tales of love. He

The Sea I Leave by Jazmine Coleman

The Sea I Leave

Oh my, my how can it be
That someone like me would hate this sea
Why this is so, to you I will tell
Because adventures in these waters have hut like hell

Never is it warm
And never does it warn
Of all the many creatures
With painful features

They sting and bite
With all their might
And when I feel that strong breeze
I completely freeze

Though it is beautiful
It is very deceiving
And for that reason
I must be leaving

I know you had it out for me
But you and me just cannot be
So I will say goodbye
Because if I stay I will surely die

The Mystery of Black Box by Alysa Castillo

The Mystery of Black Box

On a bright summer morning I opened my blinds to let in some sunshine. Just then

I noticed a tall man, a little over weight with dark black hair, wearing an all gray sweat suit

jogging. In my mind I just thought that he was trying to get in shape for the summer season to

impress the ladies, but then I saw something strange. He man the man was wearing fancy shoes

like the kind you would wear with a suit. “How could you jog in dress shoes?” I asked myself.

Pearl's Harbor by Gracie Angelos

Pearl’s Harbor

Has anyone ever tried to convince you to love something that you were scared of?

That’s the story of my life. When my father’s boat was sunk on December 7 my mother

was seven months into her pregnancy with me. There was no turning back; there was no

losing me even though she tried her hardest to; tried her hardest to forget I was a part of

him. I was her first child, the cause of her excitement for years. She couldn’t wait to start

The story of Dr. Kim and Mr. Tamjung Kim by David Kim

The story of Dr. Kim and Mr. Tamjung Kim

I had an important mission, to keep a golden diamond that was the last jewel in the whole world, and give it to the right person. Since I had to secure the gem, I slipped the luxurious gem into my underwear, decorated with different, colorful crystals. Waiting for my destination to Bangbae in Korea,

Renewed by Bethany Cannon

Renewed

Although to a guest there was much noise, all was silent to Haley. Her ears
had grown accustom to the beeping machines, the squeaky wheels, the moaning
patients, the rushing footsteps of nurses, her crying family, and the sounding alarms.

Thank you, Kayla and Sarin!

Thursday

1. Pray: 1 Jn. 1: Walk in the Light

2. M.C. 2004 and 2006

3. T-Party: See Kayla and Sarin's design.

4. Send in
a. Your flash fiction and poem copied into turnitin.com
b. You favorite writing piece from this year to
i. marcusschwager@gmail.com
ii. mustangnewsteam@gmail.com

HW: Study Cards

Kayla's and Last Year's AP Shirt

Thank you, Melody Clark (this is her design)!

We can go with this or design a new one. You will all get quotes; we'll find a few designers, and we'll see what we can come up with.

1. Post a quote to this blog entry (not zazzle).
a. Click "comments"
b. Type in your quote, your title, and your name
c. In profile, you may pick "anonymous"

2. Look over other quotes during the week.
3. Come with ideas to the T-Party on Thursday.

Mary Whitaker

The Silver Prison

The room was quiet, shut off from the rest of the house, muffling the cacophony of

snoring, gunshots, explosions, and obnoxious infomercial hosts. The room was dark, but one

small ray of light pierced the darkness, casting shadows that crawled along the floor and

slithered up the wall; they then crouched on the ceiling to wait eagerly for more of their shadow

kin. More rays collected together, permeating through gauzy curtains. Shadows danced along the

ceiling, greeting each other in the morning haze. I watched this. I was lying in bed, staring at the

ceiling, extremely entertained by the shadow ballet. But my buzzer rang, breaking the silence,

and the shadows jumped and scattered. I was alone.

I stood by my door, dreading the noise that awaited me on the other side. I reached for

the cold door handle and, through my peripherals, I saw a monstrous figure looming to my right

side, extending a cracked and splotched claw towards me. I turned but in front of me was a girl

with atrocious bed-head, looking perplexed and some what frightened. So I walked out of my

room into the noisy world. I did not look back, but behind me I could feel movement, as if the

monster was stepping out of its silvery prison.

Around 4:00, the fog covering the ocean oozed itself over the hill and enveloped the

neighborhood in grey. A girl who was walking home with me saw the fog appear, and

commented on the sudden weather shift.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, “It’s thicker than pea soup”.

“Nice use of cliché”, I said in a semi-sarcastic tone.

She narrowed her eyes at me and then turned, changing face. “I can barely see that stop

sign.” She pointed. In front of her, about 20 feet away, was a stop sign with an Inn n’ Out sticker

slapped on the front, above the white-lettered command. However, we could not see the sign or

the sticker, but we knew it was there from passing it numerous times. The fog was thick, just like

pea soup: murky and dense. The girl’s long arm was disappearing in the murk, her hand replaced

The girl looked at me, hand on her stomach and said, “I’m so hungry! Are you hungry?”

“No, I plan on going home and waiting until dinner to eat.”

She walked ahead of me, into the fog. “Oh, ok… I’ll see you tomorrow at school. I’m

going to go buy a burger. You can come along if you want”.

“That’s ok. I’m going home.”

I watched her disappear into the fog. I was alone, standing isolated from the world in

a small grey room, a silent grey room. Then a deep growl reverberated around me. I turned

full circle, searching for the source, but could only see grey. I yelled into the fog, towards the

invisible girl. “Your stomach is really loud!” There was silence.

I was in my room, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I stood, staring, traveling across

my face, examining every detail: my nose, my eyes, my cheeks, ears, and mouth, all of my

features, plain, neither pretty nor ugly, just plain. I stood there for a millennium, lost in a glassy

world. I did not notice the figure behind my reflection, hiding half of its deformed face. I broke

my stare, and saw her. Her skin was hanging loosely, connected directly to bone by an intricate

web of tendons. Every bone stuck out and when she moved toward me, her bones punctured

the skin like a dagger through leather hide. I turned around to face the being directly. I reached

out my hand and she took it. The fingers were brittle, breakable, and the skin on the hand was

swollen and yellowish. I looked into her thin face, a strangely familiar face and said, “You’re

beautiful”. She smiled. The smile was weak; every face muscle was straining to maintain the

The fog lifted from the hills and light flooded into the room. She began to fade and I was

left standing alone, looking out my window at the rising fog. Light diminished and darkness

encircled my room, stalking its prey. It was dark and I was alone, but not completely alone; I had

her, my monster, my ideal reflection.

Will Cook

A water story


River's flow with melodious grace.

All is still until the leaf picks up pace.

Nothing so melodious as the stream's trickle.

The spoken splash of fish's ever-changing path of fickle.


The ocean picks up with a sound of thunder.

Slamming down everything that used to be under.

Sand crabs send messages to dig down.

While every other creature tries to stay above ground.


The tidal wave forms as the child jumps in.

Was there any madness to the wave that would win?

Chlorinated water killing all creatures.

The once trodden grass hopper had lost all of it's features.

Will Cook

"The lights glared down on the stage"

The lights glared down on the stage. The curtains were anxious to unfold. Everything up to this point had been a preparation for this magical moment. The floor creaked, as he cautiously stepped onto the old wooden floors. So many before him, had made this journey, from back stage to the front of the stage. He laboriously went over his act in his head. One card trick, one bunny in the hat, one joke, and then he would end with a blowup doll. Everything seemed well planned out in his head, but just as he was stuffing his tricks up his sleeves, the curtain was accidently opened so that his entire show was unfolded quicker than anyone would have wanted.

He shook and without a moments notice, everything fell on the floor: the bunny, the folded hat, the doll. He slumped down and began to weep. The audience, slowly agonizing over the embarrassment with him, stood up and began to clap. “I don’t know what to say”, said Charles. “ My whole act is ruined.” The applause pounded until he figured he would have to figure out a way to finish the show.

He ran back stairs and grabbed the only trick he had not done. “But I haven’t practiced this one since I was a kid,” he thought to himself. He knew it was his only hope, so he put the deck of cards into his pocket and plodded himself back on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this next trick would dazzle the minds of young and old alike. What I need is a volunteer. You sir, you with the tall black hat.” As young Chireesius stumbled up the stairs, his chest pounded with anxiety. He had never stood before a crowd before, but he knew there was a first time for everything.

Charles unbuttoned his sleeves, and pulled out the cards. He began to tell the crowd about how the trick would work, but meanwhile Chireesius was too fascinated by the way his heart was beating. He had never heard such a rhythm before. It seemed as if, his heart might as well jump out of his chest at any moment. However, when it came time for him to take the card from Charles’s deck, he carefully selected the card, and put it in his pocket. “No,” said Charles. “Keep the card in your sight at all times.” As little Chireesius slipped the card back out of his pocket, it was evident to Chireesius that he had a deep fascination about how and what Charles was about to do. But even before Charles had time to comprehend the future, the card had magically changed colors and was no longer in Chireesius’s hand.

The audience cheered, and Charles bowed, along with Chireesius. After the show, Charles invited Chireesius back stage and they had a talk about the future that they might be able to have together. However, as Charles was only seven years old, they both saw that it would be difficult for them to pursue a future together. Chireesius was busy with school, and there was no way his mother would allow him to skip school just so they could go on tour. So instead, Chireesius said goodbye to Charles, and Chireesius’s family left.

Charles packed up his bags, and without even desiring payment for this show, made his way to his Ford Model A car. He then drove home across the bumpy cobble stone roads, and before he knew it, he was home. He unlocked the driver’s door, and before he could even step foot outside. He found himself being gagged with a bag over his head. He drifted off, and the next time he awoke was when he felt water being splashed on him. “Get up, you filthy scum.”

With that, Charles stood to his feat, and to his surprise has hit in the back with a chair. After he fell over, they pulled the sheet off and sat him upright. “Is this him boss?” said Bernard. “You idiots,” said the boss, “I was looking for Chireesius, the magistrate’s son, not Charles the magician. How could you be so stupid? I told you several times that this job could not be screwed up. Do you all not understand that my life is at stake? Return him at once.”

(7 months later)

Charles, sat patiently waiting in the magistrates office. “Was this the man, they were looking for? Why had it been so hard for them to find this man? He was nothing more than a common man, but something must be special about him.”

“He is ready to see you Charles”, said his secretary.

“Very Well”, said Charles.

He stood up and walked past the double doors, and saw sitting his with back turned towards Charles appeared to be the magistrate. Bernard turned around and Charles soon became aware, that they had found this man. A huge gash appeared on his right cheek and he saw that he had a patch over one eye. “Have a seat Charles,” said Bernard. “ I have called you hear today, to talk about what took place on July the second of last year.” Do you remember anything of that day at all?”

“Well,” said Charles, “I do believe that that day was the debut of my show in London. It was the day, that my show was ruined and I was forced to pull sympathy from the audience by pulling a boy from the audience.”

“Do you perchance, happen to remember that young boy’s name,” said Bernard.



Charles began to sweat; his brow glistened under the reflection of the fireplace. Was he in trouble for using this child without consent? “Surely this could not be the case,” so he mustered all the strength he had and without warning blurted out. “Chireesius!” said Charles.

The magistrate glared at him with disgust. “Do you have any idea of who that boy is?”

“In fact I do not,” said Charles. All I know is that he wore a tall, black hat and seemed to be nervous with stage fright.”

“Yes that is the child all right!” said Bernard. “We have been searching for that boy, my son, for several months after he was mysteriously taken from our house that night.” “Do you remember if he said anything peculiar to you, as you departed.”

“No, nothing to strange, but now that I think of it, he did happen to wink at me almost as if he was performing a magic trick on me.” Said Charles.

And with that, Bernard stood up and began pacing across the room. Charles noticed the various awards on the wall, and saw just how many pictures of Chireesius, that Bernard had. Some of him, painted by eloquent painters, and others: photographs, longing to be dusted. Charles knew that Chireesius must not have been an ordinary son, and the thought of being able to help this man find his son, soon turned a key in his soul, and he suddenly remember to here details from the conversation from the car which had taken him to where he was kept for a few hours. They said the boy’s powers had manifested themselves over time, and he was now able to do things that were otherwise thought to be impossible. Everyone was trying to lay there hands, on this young boy. “The card!” Thought Charles. “He made the card disappear, but I could never think of how he actually performed this trick. Here I thought I was the magician, and the next thing I know, I’m the one who was getting the joke played on him.”

“Exactly,” said Bernard. “He had special powers that were otherwise not supposed to have existed.

And with that, Charles stood up. “We must find this boy!” He has powers that could be used worldwide. Surely something must be done to find him.

Ahra Jo

Fifteen days of contract with the devil

“Who are you? Why am I here?” said Rosie. There was a man wearing black suits

standing in front of her to stop crying in the graveyard.

“My name is scheduler, who we used to be called the Grim Reaper or the angel of death,”

scheduler continued, “and our job is to take you to the heaven or hell.”

Rosie could not understand what he was saying and her current situation which made her

to frown and give him ugly face. Then she realized that she was in a miserable car accident to

her wedding with her “destiny.” However, she was still puzzled by the situation she is in looking

at her dead body in front her where the accident happened with crying sounds of her parents.

Suddenly, she was moved to a hospital where she was lying on the bed in COMA status. Then

the scheduler explained, “You are not suppose to die today according to my schedule, but like

this unexpected situation, there is an option for you. If you decided to live again, you have to

sign a contract which is to get three “true” tears from the people who cry for you within fifteen

days. If you don’t them within this date, you will have no choice. Would you like to challenge

“Of course, this is so easy for me since I already have more than three because there is

my parents, my three best friends, and my fiancé,” replies Rosie.

“However, the person will not be you, but you will be borrowing someone else’s body in

order to accomplish the contract,” tells the scheduler.

“I will definitely try no matter what in order to live again, because I have to marry with

my destiny fiancé and I’m too young to die,” confirms Rosie.

Scheduler tells her the rules to keep while trying to accomplish the three tears which he

strictly informs, “be home by 12 o’clock, do not make any trouble, earn money by yourself to

use for yourself, and lastly since you are borrowing someone else’s body, you should not ruin

her life and not let her or anyone else know about your existence.” He continues by explaining

the information about her informal body which she will use, “her name is Lizzy, and she does

have part-time job at 1 am to 9 am, that’s what I can tell for now. Now go!” But he stops and

makes last statement by throwing a cell phone, “if you have emergence, then call me, but you

should not make calls for some stupid things. Got it?” Then Rosie nods and he disappears in two

First tear was given by Rosie’s parents when they heard from the doctor that Rosie would

not able to come back to the life unless there is a miracle to happen. Also, the doctors were

suggesting her parents to give up on her since there is no way she could survive this COMA.

Then they were crying for several hours for her that they could not see her alive again since she

was the only child for them. However, they did not give up on her even though, the costs of

hospital is overdraft and leads her father’s company to have financial crisis and management

problems since her father was staying in the hospital taking care of her all the time. As she sees

the ongoing situation, she realizes how important family is to her because family to her was just

like a bank which keeps money for her, and she thought they did not care about her because of

the company. However, they were actually caring about her at the back instead of expressing it

in front of her. Therefore, her first mission was completed and two more “true” tears were left.

“10days and 7 hours left,” notifies the cell phone.

“I better hurry up to get two more “true” tears until it’s too late,” shouts Rosie. So she

went to her fiancé who she thought he had already cried since their wedding and marriage are

delayed. However, when she goes to see him with her soul, she was shocked by the unexpected

scene which was having affair with her best friend, Amy, for six years, and everything was

planned from the beginning by them to steal her father’s wealth and company. Then she retreats

from getting tears from him since there is no he is going to cry out for “true” tears from his heart.

Second “true” tear was from unexpected person Mackenzie, who was Rosie’s just high

school boy friend and best friend with Rosie’ fiancé when they were studying oversea. One of

the rules was to earn money by yourself, which leads her to get a part-time job in Mackenzie’s

restaurant as a server and as Lizzy. As time goes by, Mackenzie falls in love with Lizzy since he

does not know Rosie’s soul is in her and her actions and behaviors are so similar like Rosie that

he confuses himself since he loved her as a secret crush from high school. Being 5 days left till

the deadline, Rosie and Mackenzie were going to shopping for the restaurant, and while they

were walking across the street, a car ran into them. They were transfer to the hospital by the

ambulance but Rosie had a minor injury since Mackenzie was covering her up, but he was in a

major damage. So he was in a vegetative situation, and Rosie had to stay with him since she fell

in love with him. Being two days left, it was miracle that he woke up and was looking her Rosie

for the first thing. Then he cried in front of her after seeing no injuries on her which was

his “true” tears for her. Therefore, the second “true” tear was accomplished.

However, being one day left, there was no way she could accomplish and finish the

challenge that she agreed with the scheduler. On the last day, she wrote a letter to her family, and

friends what happened to her, what she saw during the fifteen days, and what she realized, then

she mailed to her parents before the deadline.

On the D-day, she had no excuse for her challenge and had to follow the rule. On the

other side, her family and friends read the letter together which led them to cry for “true” tears

what they have done to Rosie.

Julianna St. Geme

The Man with Black Eyes

It was a dark, stormy night when I heard a loud clamor coming from my basement. I had

been in my bed for only an hour when the noise shook me from within. Though terrified by the

sounds, I assured myself that the noise was nothing more than a creak in the floor. So I rested my

head back on my pillow and slowly closed my eyes when, suddenly, I heard the noise once more.

However this time, the noise was much louder than before, as if a large animal had somehow

made its home downstairs. I decided I would not be able to sleep another second without the

resolving the problems down under. So with one quick shift, I headed down to the basement, and

with each stair Idescended, my heartbeat grew as loud as the ominous noise. When I reached the

final step and my foot pressed against the cold, hard floor of the basement, the noise suddenly

ceased. For only a mere split second, I was able to let out a brief breath of relief when all of

the sudden I was pulled aside by an unmoving force. I quickly realized that the noise was not a

creaking floorboard, but a large size man threatening to take my soul. His visage was nothing

less than horrifying. He appeared to have a scar on the side of his face, as if he had been slashed

with a knife. His eyes were dark, almost black, and his hair long, dark, and stingy. In a rough

voice, he ordered me upstairs and told me to do everything he said or he would mark my face in

the same way his was. So I followed his grip up the stairs in unhindered fright where he began

tying my arms and feet to a chair. He then proceeded to tell me a story of the death of a young

woman whose name he believed began with a B. He told me she lived alone and one night while

asleep was awoken by noises that lead her to a deeply demented murderer. He told me that this

woman was beat and killed, only to be left with an enormous slash across her face. I assumed

this story was my own. Real or fictional, I knew my fate would be the same as the woman whose

name began with a B. So I closed my eyes in terror as the man pulled out a knife, and just as he

began lifting it towards my face, I opened my eyes and found myself lying in my bed with the

sun glaring through my bedroom window. Apparently my brush with death was nothing more

than a simple nightmare. So I headed downstairs, directly to my front porch where I picked up

the newspaper. As I was walking back inside my house, peaking at the front cover story of the

paper, my heart began to vigorously pound. The cover story was about the murder of a woman

name Becky who was killed in her home last night. However, when I reached my kitchen, still

struck with terror, I saw the most horrifying thing of all: a chair with two ropes aside a large

knife, soaked in cold red blood.

Dominique Roy

Inside my closet…

It was a dark and stormy night. I lay in bed quietly listening to the pitter-patter raindrops

hit my window furiously as if they were anger at this world. I could see the shadows that were

casted in my room by the trees swaying back and forth as the gusty wind pulled them along its

path. I knew that this blizzard was going to be the worst one this year as many grey masses rolled

in and covered every single spot of the beautiful blue sky. I lazily rose from my bed and shuffled

my way to the window. As I was about to reach the window, I heard loud and obnoxious noises

perforating from my closet. For a minute, it sounded as if there was a zoo of chimpanzees in

my closet. As I was about to open the door, I heard human voices and big explosions. I could

hear the clashing of metal tools, the tapping of glass, and the devilish laughs of those humans.

I slowly cracked open the door to find three men dressed in long white coats with long gray

ponytails that went pass their shoulders gathered around the center table.

I could not see what they were doing or what was on the middle table. They seemed to

be “want-a-be” scientists. The one with the weird arch brow and hooked nose grabbed a flask

filled with a bubbling blue substance. He said to the other scientists that “Let’s inject him with

this substance into his bloodstream to see the effect.” The scientist on the far right gave me the

chills. He was this tall, lanky fellow with a massive gray beard that seemed to have specks of

food caught in it. He had this metal filled smile as he had many cavities and was missing his

front two teeth. He looked at the other two with an amused smile as if he was critiquing their

every step. But the only feature that I could not take my eyes off of was this dark speck on his

cheek. Hairs were growing out of it and yellow pus drained out and rolled down his cheek. I was

thoroughly grossed out. As he strolled over to the table closer to the door, where I was residing, I

could feel myself vomit inside. He was a horrible image to stare at.

My curiosity was eager to see what they were experimenting and on who they were

experimenting their madness. All of a sudden, I saw a mushroom shaped cloud hovered over

the scientists and the center table. The smoke filled the every single corner of my closet. My

eyes started to water. I could feel lukewarm tears roll down my cheeks at this powerful chemical

penetrated my eyes. I could feel the thick smoke crawling it’s way down my throat as I started

to cough. I felt light-headed and dizzy. I could feel my hands trembling uncontrollably. My

eyes started to roll back losing any idea of what was happening. I must have fainted and lost

conscious to my surroundings. As I tried to clear my vision and look pass the thick smoke, I had

a weird tingling feeling inside. I knew something was wrong. I struggled to look past the smoke

to the mirror on the wall and all I could see was a brown mass. I could not make out any details.

I realized the scientists were facing me. I stared down at my hands, arms, legs, and face to realize

my entire body was covered in long brown hair. I had a craving for raw meat. What happened?

How did I end up on the table? What was I? How did I become the brown mass?

Dominique Roy

Wonders

I wandered along the coast
Were the waves just a dream
Was the breeze just a memory
A dark speck flew across th horizon
It struggled to keep against the wind
I wondered about the troubles in my life
Was I like the dark speck
Should I fight back against my troubles
And keep moving on.
I stood and stared off into the horizon
Gradually getting pulled into the sea.
I, myself was becoming the dark speck.

Dane Odegaard

"The conflict..."

The conflict that had arisen within Jake confused his perception of reality. He had never experienced this situation before; it was as if two sides, opposing forces, had inhabited his soul and were waging war inside of him. His tendency to do whatever he wanted, to do what he felt like doing regardless of who his actions affected, was repulsed by the young, and seemingly friendless, freshman’s attitude. It was as if this boys soul had attacked Jake’s and unshackled a side of Jake’s self that had lain dormant. His ability to care and discern the feelings of other, rather than just his own feelings, was activated within him. The young freshman had been the target of many of Jake’s snide remarks and teasing character, yet had responded in a completely uncommon fashion. It was not a response of rejection of rejection or hatred, but one that thoroughly confused Jake. It was kindness and love, and he couldn’t understand where such a response had originated from, and why it had caused such inner turmoil. This boys contrary act of love had shattered his view of life. How could such a “nobody”, a person who seemingly had nothing, affect “somebody” like himself. Up till now, he believed that he had everything at his fingertips: he had all the friends he needed, he was popular, and he had a nice car. Yet this young freshman didn’t seem to care about the things that he had. It was almost as if he truly cared for Jake himself. This had been a gradual process: weeks upon weeks of this seemingly unusual behavior. Yet to Jake, it had been an epiphany, like a flash of lightening, or a sudden blow struck by an unknown enemy…..or was it a friend?

Brooke Prinzing

The Reek of Decay

What is that disgusting smell?
The one like steaming sulfurous hell.
I thought perhaps it was the trash,
Or maybe even your festering rash.
But we keep the dumpster far below.
And the poison oak cleared days ago.
Oh what’s that, it’s your lunch?
It’s some eggs, some eggs a bunch?
Well can I please throw them away?
Please don’t bring them another day.
The cursed stench threatens to overpower,
And haunt my dreams to the very last hour.