Short Stories Poetry Essays Artwork
Oneida High School
Volume 5, Issue 4
A L A R M
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Our intention is to be a representation of the Oneida High School community. With that said, we would like to solicit submissions from outside our Creative Writing class as well. We are looking for original poetry, fiction, non-fiction, essays, and artwork that you are willing to share with the OHS community. Anonymous submissions will neither be accepted nor published. Works submitted are subject to editing for space and content. The staff reserves the right to not publish submissions as well.
Alarm volume V, issue 4
ALARM, the literary magazine of Oneida High School, is published by the students of Oneida High School. Submissions from the student body are encouraged. Please see Mr. Kirkpatrick in Room 112, Mr. Kramer in Room 120, or the student editor if interested in submitting your original writing or artwork.
staff
Editor: Sonia Wilson Contributing Writers & Artists: Kathryn Brown Mya Cordell Elizabeth Griffiths Spencer Kirk Hannah Mendillo Josh Schmidtka Elena Sandejas Gia Torrey Andrew Watters Sonia Wilson Staff Advisors: Mr. Kirkpatrick Mr. Kramer Cover Photo: "Red Pop" by Elena Sandejas
We would like to take the opportunity to welcome you to our fifth volume of ALARM. We invite you to share and create right along with us. So who are we? We are a collection and, hopefully, a reflection: a collection of voices, spirits, writers, sharers, surprises, wallflowers, athletes, dreamers, wanderers, naysayers, visionaries, punks, nerds, loners, jocks, gamers, artists, leaders, followers, geeks, heroes, victims, gladiators, jokers, truth-tellers, thespians, outsiders, emos, rockers, preps, mean girls, wannabees, skaters, musicians, adventurers, and homebodies. But mostly, we are you, and you are us. As you read through our current issue, maybe you'll recognize yourself in the following pages.
I believe that everyone has a purpose, which is to say something important and good to give to the world, no matter how big or small. I suppose that my purpose has been spring-loaded, lying in wait - a powder keg. A bright firework that has lit itself within me. And it waits. The world has gained and lost and shifted itself around me, The perfect opportunity forming. Patience is a skill; it’s mastered, which is to say that I have the advantage over time. Those without faith that their era is on its way, will never live to see it. The boring, overlooking, and unsuspecting world has no eyes on the promise of the future in my veins. A brighter time is forming. A golden time will come. I’ll be there. Wait.
Wait
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Who We Are
Listening to music is one of my favorite hobbies, which is to say I want to choose what to listen to rather than hear everything that others have to say Sometimes I have trouble falling asleep at night, which is to say my mind is always racing with thoughts I always get my nails painted a basic color which is to say I’d rather blend in than stand out and get attention
Hannah Mendillo
Kathryn Brown
Blend
Gia Torrey
Photo by Elena Sandejas
I was just thinking about a time when I continually put myself down and never picked myself back up, which is to say that I once had a very bad year in which I had a lot of self-doubt. I needed a pick-me-up, and I found one in the most peculiar of places, which is to say that, at the turn of the year, a special video came out that introduced me to the potential of positivity. I then experienced one of the best intervals of time in my young life, full of self-love, friendship, and Chaos of the Good Kind, which is to say Positive Mental Attitude is the best advice I have ever received.
Sometimes I feel bad for creating such dark and dismal situations for my poor characters who don't have a choice in the matter, which is to say, I'm never going to change my ways... And other times I feel as though there are special instances that demand I write happiness, which is to say, give me a second, something will get sad, don't worry... It's not my fault I have a tendency to write more sadness than I do joy, which is to say, sadness is easier to write, and frankly, where's the fun in “and they all lived happily ever after?"
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Writing
PMA
Sometimes I speak my mind while others think it best to stay quiet Which is to say I’ve always been honest While others hide behind quiet walls built from lies Sometimes I get strange looks but my mouth continues to form the words people are too scared to hear Which is to say I’m anything but a conformist I don’t believe in filtering my words Because some things need to be said Which is to say sometimes I’ll be the only one to say them Sometimes my friend tells me I scare people Which is to say that may be true But at least my words don’t leave room for games I’ll be as straightforward as they come Because life’s too short to be censored Which is to say sometimes I’ll hurt feelings Which isn’t very new for anyone I’ll just say things to your face that others only say behind closed doors Which is to say that I’m just me
The Truth
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What are you?
Sonia Wilson
The question “What are you?” is laughable! What am I? I can only be myself! I can only speak what I would speak, which is to say, anything I want. The way I move is the way only I would move, with my head held high, at a “too-fast” pace. The collage of things I like are what I would like, which is to say, to sing, to dance, to run. I am bits and pieces of the world around me - segments of the world that I’ve collected. There is nothing else on this earth that is the same as I am, which is to say the complexity of me is what makes me “me.” No one word to define “me” exists, And frankly, I like it that way.
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In a world like today’s, you’d think it’s difficult to see the brighter side of things. To some it is- it was to me in the days of Yesterday, but today it isn’t. Yesterday, winter dried my skin and froze my room. Today, the cold has no chance against the warm memories around me. Cozy, enclosed in fuzzy warmth, I tuck myself away in the time of winter. The flushed, red faces and deep, playful footprints hang in the space between Yesterday and Today. In the days of Yesterday, springtime scattered slush and brought newly awoken chaos back to life. Today, springtime awakens new possibilities and forms new, clean life. The smell of cool rain, the sound of carelessly trampled leaves, and echoes of laughter ring in the space between Yesterday and Today. Yesterday, summers scorched me while the prolonged boredom ate away at my mind.
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Today, summers are full of promise and healthy, unorganized laze. Grass - summer grass, grass greener than any other grass - messes around in the breeze. Arctic water, sweat, dried mud, and rough play dye the space between Yesterday and Today. Autumn always brought the sensation of “the end.” School days replaced my lazy days as deadlines and anxiety crept towards me. Today, the crunch of leaves returns, the flushed faces resurface, and the promise of Tomorrow’s grass is certain. The days of Yesterday are gone, The days of Today are here, The space between is bright, The space following is to be better than before.
Today
Photo by Matthew Henry, from Burst.
You hear many stories about what goes on in high school: kids being thrown against lockers, their books being thrown across the floor or being spit on and so forth. But what many people don’t talk about is how to overcome things or how to react when something happens to you. That’s what life is about, how you react to certain situations. Freshman year of high school I got a carton of milk mixed with some things dumped over me in the cafeteria in front of everyone, and I slipped in it before I even knew what was going on. Many people asked how I came to school the next day and how I could deal with everyone talking about me and posting the video all over social media, I gave them one word...CONFIDENCE!! You can't do anything in life without feeling confident in yourself or being yourself. I just minded my own business and knew I had some pretty cool people who had my back. I knew that if I had reacted or retaliated it was what she would want me to do, but Mr. Gallagher told me I am so much better than that and I needed to rise above and just leave it in the past, so that's exactly what I did. If you face a tough situation or an embarrassing one, take a deep breath and just don't react how everyone wants you to. Have confidence and rise above because how you react to situations is how good or bad they turn out.
Bad Hair Day
It was the summer of 2017 when I learned that I still needed my momma. You see, it was a beautiful bright sunny day when I decided to make a life-changing decision. I was really bored with my friend, so ya know I came up with the brilliant idea to dye my hair. We then went to Wally World, and I told her to pick out whatever hair color would match my outfit the best. We then went home and did a full send, which included a bit of boolin’ and non-instructional reading. About 20 minutes later I smelled something ripe…I looked at my friend as she was laughing and asked her if she just bleached my head. As a matter of fact, she did. I quickly told her to ¨bang those gears and get out of the goat house.¨ I then proceeded to get in the shower and rinse out that ripe smell of burnt hair. After I got out, I noticed my hair was orange. I showed my mom and she told me that I looked hideous. It was 5 days before my sophomore year of high school. The next day we went to my mom’s friend who is a hairdresser and spent 6 hours while she fixed my hair, and this, folks, is my story of the time I full sent and turned my hair orange.
Bang those gears: move fast and get out Boolin: chillen Goat house: friend's house name Send it: just go for it
Milk
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Mya's Life Lessons with a Hint of Vocab
Josh Schmidtka
Imagine. A very strange tourist attraction. A rock, just a little rock, not so small that it fits in your pocket but just big enough that it fits in your backpack. This rock is brown with white, yellow, and blue. It pretty much is every single color that is in existence. It just depends on the angle that you look at it. One second it could be a light red with a pearlescent of green or a bright pink with a blue tint. It's just all about perspective and the way you look at it. Everyone is different and has their own viewpoints and thoughts of what they're seeing at that particular second of their life. The tourists were so attracted to this rock that they all started fighting each other for it. It was so shiny and colorful that it was worth almost 1 million dollars. Rock - 1, Humanity - 0.
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The man Morpheus stood in the empty snow-covered street, a single breeze blew but the wind did not bother him. He stood in the street with an open black trench coat revealing a dark grey dress shirt. And worn blue jeans with small holes in the knees which were barely noticeable from a distance away. An old grandmother carrying a paper bag of groceries and two middle-aged lawyers, passed by Morpheus catching the strong scent of old books that lingered in the air. Morpheus stood barefoot in the street, his flesh was white as the fresh snow and eyes were black. Standing in front of him a person would see a miniature version of the Milky Way in his eyes. His blond hair was beginning to be covered with snow from the cloudless grey sky. As cars passed, Morpheus’ pale face varied as it changed for each person who was looking at him. As the last car left the street, and no one was in sight. Morpheus snapped his fingers, vanishing into thin air without any trace of him left on the street. The only proof that the strange figure was even there was the small pile of white-pink sand, and when the wind blew the sand was lifted into the air. Leaving behind the strong smell of old books where Morpheus once stood in the street. .
Spencer Kirk
Short Stories
Morpheus
Strange Attraction
Elizabeth Griffiths
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The One About the Dragon
Alex had been walking for what felt like days, but it had only really been a few hours. His legs felt like lead and at the rate he was going, he would never make it in time. The wind seemed to be screaming at him as he made the slow ascent up the mountain, the wind whipping snow in his face, causing him to blink every few seconds and catching against his clothes. He lost his footing for a second and he fell on his face. If his cheeks weren’t already frozen stiff, he would’ve cast a spell or drank a few potions that he had on him to warm him up at the very least, but he knew once it expired it would be so much colder. Clutching his hood closer, he slowly looked around for a cave. There was one a while back but he didn’t want to lose progress. Walking out in this storm was bad enough. It’s bound to start hailing soon. If I can’t even handle this, I definitely can’t handle that. Was it always this hard? I don’t remember it being so difficult last time and the weather then was bad too, and I had twice as much gear. In a spurt of adrenaline, he started running toward the cave. With how strong the wind was, it was more like fast walking. He’d be able to rest there anyway. He was exhausted by the time he made it, practically collapsing once he was in an area where he wouldn’t be snowed on. He took a second to catch his breath before looking around. The air there was so thin and dry that it was a wonder that he hadn’t already suffocated. He dug into his coat and took out a potion that would make him warmer. Somewhere in the cave, there was a soft padding sound but he didn’t worry about it. It was probably just the storm outside. Alex could already feel his eyelids drooping as he dug into his bag for a blanket. He fell asleep soon after that but was rudely awakened by something small walking on his side. He jumped awake and grabbed his staff, prepared to fight whatever it was that was in here with him. He tilted his head when he didn’t see anything before yelping when he saw a young snow dragon appear out of nowhere. It almost looked like it was glowing in the dim light, their scales were sparkling and they jumped in excitement when they saw him up, running towards Alex at full speed. He frowned and moved quickly to the side.
Photo provided by Andrew Watters
Andrew Watters
My Big Brother
This story is about my older brother. His name was Connor. I don’t really talk about him, but when I do, I get emotional so just bare with me. This is one of my mom’s favorite stories. We used to live on a street called Dominick Street, and a biker bar was down the block. Every time the bikers would drive up to the bar, Connor would start laughing hysterically. Since he was legally blind, his hearing was extremely sensitive. The vibration of the motorcycle would make him giggle like nothing else. He would get so excited that he would start yelling and shaking his bells like crazy. It was almost like crazy. It was like he was in a band or something.
Even if he didn’t look too dangerous, the spike on his head certainly could do some damage. If anything, the dragon just reminded him of a little puppy. “What’re you doing here little one?” Alex asked softly, crouching down and slowly picking the young dragon up. It yipped and kept on trying to run around. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, where’s your mama?” Alex looked around and frowned more, starting to gather his things again. If she was here, he didn’t want to be around to meet her. He knew from experience that that never goes well. The dragon kept on trying to play, taking the blanket into its mouth before hopping into his bag. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t in a hurry. The dragon jumped up into his arms right as there was an ear-splitting shriek through the cave, the walls reflecting the sound and making it louder, his ears ringing from the noise after. Way to go, Alex, you did it again, he thought to himself before jumping out of the cave entrance, not realizing he still had the baby dragon with him.
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“Enough with the dramatics, Thea!” If I had a nickel for every time someone has said that to me, well let’s just say I’d be able to pay for college. With that being said, I know I am over dramatic about some things, but I don’t think this is one of them. You see, it all started when Daniel Walker told everyone in sixth grade that I was ugly enough to turn someone into stone. Well, six years later I still hold a grudge! Call me crazy or dramatic, but honestly, that still sits with me. Because whenever someone says they like my long auburn hair, I picture them seeing Medusa’s snakes instead of the wild curls. Whenever someone looks at my forest green eyes, I picture them turning into stone. When someone compliments me, well let’s just say that sentence runs through my head even after six years. Yes, I know I’m being dramatic, but those are the things that stick with me over time. Now, that does not mean that I really think anyone besides my brother sees me as Medusa, but for the longest time, I couldn’t believe someone when they complimented me. Now I know, I know that the way my mouth curves is cute and not sinisterly ugly. I know that my fresh and clean body spray doesn’t stun people with repulsiveness. I know that my laughter sounds more like bells than it ever did demonic. I know I’m not Medusa nor am I ugly enough to turn someone into stone. I know that the deep hatred that I have for Daniel Walker is the only ugly thing about me. But there’s still moments of doubt. I wonder if my porcelain skin is too pale or if my nose is too big or too narrow. In reality, my auburn hair is long with mostly tamed curls, my forest green eyes glint when I’m angry but sparkle when I’m happy. My nose is narrow but not too big. My mouth slowly transforms into a smile whenever I think of anything remotely funny. My Fresh and Clean body mist can be found on my wrist on most days. I’m not evil or ugly. Just a little average and unquestionably overdramatic.
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Thea
someone when they complimented me. Now I know, I know that the way my mouth curves is cute and not sinisterly ugly. I know that my Fresh and Clean body spray doesn’t stun people with repulsiveness. I know that my laughter sounds more like bells than it ever did demonic. I know I’m not Medusa nor am I ugly enough to turn someone into stone. I know that the deep hatred that I have for Daniel Walker is the only ugly thing about me. But there’s still moments of doubt. I wonder if my porcelain skin is too pale or if my nose is too big or too narrow. In reality, my auburn hair is long with mostly tamed curls, my forest green eyes glint when I’m angry but sparkle when I’m happy. My nose is narrow but not too big. My mouth slowly transforms into a smile whenever I think of anything remotely funny. My Fresh and Clean body mist can be found on my wrist on most days. I’m not evil or ugly. Just a little average and unquestionably overdramatic.
Parting Shots by Elena Sandejas
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