Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Liana's Choice
Liana's Choice
By: Laura Schneider
I can feel my breath going away. My heart is thumping wildly in my chest, on the verge of exploding. My fists are clenched so tightly that I can’t move my hands anymore, even though they’re still trembling. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to close my eyes. But I can’t. I’m forced to watch.
I’m forced to watch my uncle die.
Immediately, I run over to him. He’s lying in agony on the ground, with his eyes half closed and his breath heaving. The tears haven’t even come out yet, but they’re about to. It’s not just because he’s in this much pain. It’s because he, my uncle, the only family I have left in the world, is dying right in front of me.
I can't watch. I can't, I can't, I can't.
Carrie is right beside me, tugging on my arm. “Come on, Liana. We have to go.”
“No!” I cry. She tugs on me again. I try to pry her off of me, but she’s a lot stronger than I am, so it doesn’t work.
“We have to go, Liana. Now.”
“I’m not going! We can’t leave him!”
I don’t look at Carrie, even though I really want to. I want her to see the conviction in my eyes. I want her to see how much I want to get us all out of this alive. I want her to see how desperate I am to save this man who loves both of us with all of his heart.
Suddenly, I hear a little sniffle. I finally look up at Carrie. She looks just as desperate as I am to save him, but devastated that we’re stuck in the middle here. “We don’t have a choice, sweetie.”
Despite his weakened state, my uncle looks up at me, squeezes my hand, and smiles. “Liana...please...go.”
“I can’t, Uncle Richard.” The tears are coming down really hard now.
“You...h-have to, s-sweetie. I need…” he coughs, looking strained. “I need you and...C-Carrie to l-leave so...y-you can be s-safe. I-I n-need you and C-Carrie to be safe.”
“But you need to be with us, too.” I protest. I can’t leave him here to die. I just can’t. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself ever again if I did.
Uncle Richard doesn’t even seem to care that my hot tears are falling all over him right now, because he squeezes my hand even harder and sits up a little. I wrap my arm around his back to keep him supported, and he looks directly into my eyes.
“Please, honey. Please. I-I’m...begging you. P-please g-go with Carrie. D-do it...do it for me. Do it for me...my sweet little girl. I love you.”
I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. “I love you too, Uncle Richard.”
Suddenly, there’s another explosion. Then the booming, shouting, and pattering of feet on the floor above us. There’s no denying it now.
“They’re coming.” Carrie breaths, almost reading my thoughts. “Liana, we really, seriously have to leave. Now.”
Looking down at the suffering man in my arms, I’m left with an overwhelming choice. Do I drag him along, keeping him alive but risk all of us getting kidnapped?
Or do I save myself and leave him there to die?
Hammerhead
“Basically, a tool is an object that enables you to take advantage of the laws of physics and mechanics in such a way that you can seriously injure yourself,” I explained, groaning in pain. Why I had even considered helping Jack out with ‘fixing’ his water problem? I just knew it would end like this. I sighed. Why would you even need a hammer?
“Well, now you’ve made me feel bad,” Jack fake pouted, tossing me an icepack. I snatched it from the air before it would fly away. I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t mean to drop the hammer; blame the laws of… Whatever you just said,” Jack explained. I groaned. Of course Jack wouldn’t know what I just said.
“You should feel bad; you’re the one who just dropped a hammer on my head,” I snapped. I gingerly placed the ice on the swelling, yellow lump being born on my head. Jack just laughed. I shot daggers at him through my eyes. “This is not funny, Jack!”
“Maybe not to you,” he laughed, tears streaming out of his eyes. I groaned. “Oh, shut it.” That was the final straw; my patience was normally very, very thin- and circumstance made it about half its normal size.
“JACK BROWN!” I shrieked; I could literally imagine steam flying out of my ears.
“JILL TERRY!” Jack shouted through his laughter. I winced as I stood, the world spinning a little.
“I will hurt you,” I threatened, my voice sounding like my five year old sister’s- also known as: very, very high.
“How, with a hammer, Hammerhead?” Jack laughed. For some reason, this was hilarious to him. My god. Boys, I tell you. Jack was doubling over, laughing as if his life depended on it; when it was actually the thing that was oh-so slowly taking it away from him.
“No.” Jack gave me a very confused glance. “Say ‘hello’ to Patricia and Jasmine,” I grinned through clenched teeth.
“Who are-?”
“My lovely fists,” I said in a sickly sweet tone. “Say ‘bye-bye’.”
“Wait, wha-?” And then he was running. Well, he was running because I was running, and I was running because he was running and… Well, this was just our friendship.
“Jack!” I shrieked. “Where the heck are ya’?”
Silence. God, Jack.
“Jack?!” I asked, spinning around a few times. “Jack? Where are-?”
“BOO!”
I screamed- a high pitched scream; one that would make an opera singer feel shameful.
“Oh my god, Jack!” I shrieked, slapping him. I slapped him some more before saying, “Not. Funny!”
“Maybe not to you,” he said in a sing-song voice. Patricia and Jasmine introduced themselves to Jack. I’m sure they were great friends.
____________________________________________________________________
I hate ambulances; really hate them... Now I hate them even more!
“Jack and Jill went to the roof, to try to fix that water; Jack’s hammer fell down, broke Jill’s crown; and Jack was punched soon after,” Jack laughed in a sing-song voice. I grimaced.
“How long did that take you?” I asked.
“Not long,” Jack smirked, somehow ‘proud’ of his ‘accomplishment’.
“Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh huh.” Jack smirked.
“Huh,” was my brilliant response. But, hey, I was pretty flabbergasted!
“Uh huh.” Enter Patricia and Jasmine. “Wait, Jill!” Whoops, too late, Jack.
And that, my friends, is how both of us- Jack and Jill- ended up in the E.R. with mild concussions and a mutual hatred for hammers. But it wasn’t my fault. Jack dropped the hammer, after all.
Life Will Not Last Forever
Life Will Not Last Forever
Justin Rocha
6/29/15
I’m sitting in my room
Check notifications on my phone
This leads to inevitable doom
While I think I am sitting on a throne
Life is not balled up paper
Crumpled up and thrown away
It should be enjoyed in nature
Not just going out on a school day
Get off your phone
Open your eyes
Get out of this zone
Let yourself aprise
You don’t know how long life will be
Cherish every day
Go to college get a degree
Go outside and play
The average lifespan is 71 years
Treat today like treasure
It not as much time as it appears
Life will not last forever
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