Sunburst

Stories from Mr. Carrazco's Creative Writing Class

HOPE NEVER DIES

By Jose Miguel Rodriguez

You failed! You failed! You failed! My name is Alex and that is what I hear every day in my head. I was a good student through all the school years. I never felt anything for somebody or form a bond. Its not like I was one that every girl wanted to go out with, you know, maybe I didn’t even talk to them? I had this idea to study and study and study, lots of people say that I was to antisocial. Nobody knew me, I did this just because I came of a family that didn’t had that much money. I mean why will I fell in love with somebody if I didn’t have money and work.

So, there I was, a student that study just to give everything to his family and that one girl that will have family with him. I mean, I wasn’t going to have kids at this age, come on, Im not that stupid. Studies where hard, I couldn’t do anything without getting distracted, but my goal, my goal was the only thing that I…. I wanted to accomplish. Maybe you are reading this and saying I am a nerd and I don’t have girlfriend or friends because Im horrible. Maybe you are right? Maybe I am one of those kids that will do everything for somebody and not ask for something in change. What can I say, Life experiences made me this way?

 

Seeing my family struggle by money always… always made me think I should do something. They loved me, I know, they did all this sacrifice for me. In some way I felt bad and just decided to stop doing studies and get to work. I... I remember that day, mom was working hard while I was doing homework, she saw me and said that I didn’t do anything, and I was useless. I saw her, my expression was of horror, she had said YOU FAILED ME. I didn’t know what to do, I put my homework away and stare at nothing but a wall. What did I do wrong? Didn’t I put all my effort? Didn’t I will be late at 12:00 Am just to finish a project? If I cried, you ask? Well, yes, I did, but it wasn’t those cries when your pet dies or when you hurt yourself, it was a cry of failure as if all my family died and I was by myself. What did I do wrong? Cried and asked myself all night. Mom, please tell me, where the fuck did… did I failed!!!? My cry ended, but internally my heart, love, and feeling begin to disappear. I will always put that smile in my face even do, inside my feelings disappeared.

Life is hard you know. I lived with screams and fights of both of my parents for more than 10 years! That I still have in my memory, but… but maybe that’s why I make all the people laugh and create smiles in their face? Maybe that’s the reason I made everyone love to smile, because…. Because I had been all this time sad. I will saw somebody crying and sad; I will jump and try to make him laugh. Why you ask? Well maybe because I had hope that somebody will help me? Yes, that was the reason, I wanted to be saved and happy just the way I did it!! Nobody saw it or notice that since my mom told me this, I began to get more distracted. I was less concentrated, and my grades went down. Nobody noticed, I that moment noticed that… that all this people I helped didn’t even noticed me anymore! Then I saw it, her eyes, her hair, her smile, all this made her perfect.

 

I didn’t care about anything more than her. I wanted her to be my motivation to make my life mean something. From that moment I began to smile more often, to laugh, to fell in love with her. I didn’t care if she didn’t like me or felt the same way as I did, but her smile and her eyes that where protected and look more beautiful behind those round shaped glasses, that was my motivation. Sure, you say, why will you do this? What if she didn’t even like you? Well, she noticed me, she saw me, and I talk to her. Her voice even do I didn’t have anything special her voice made me…. made me love life. The thoughts about suicidal just left my brain and I was up again knowing that if I... I had a future with her I will do anything for her!!

I will…. I will even if I don’t have anybody by my side!! No matter how much I fail or I give up, I… I will try to make her like me and gave her a future. From this moment on I will smile and smile until I can get more of her attention. Maybe I am a failure to others but her… she will not see that on me. Hey don’t laugh!!! I will and I will promise to you to, reader!! I may not be interesting or intelligent but for her I will be everything and do everything!! Yeah, Yeah, I know it sounds kind of dramatic. In the end it doesn’t even matter how it sounds I will just do what I must do in order to be successful. You will look and see me marry to that precious girl. I mean at least I am being a sincerely person. Hey, Hey!!! I am being totally serious, really believe me, well maybe I am not that perfect? Maybe I am too much of a stereotype? Maybe all I have passed in my life really are lessons?! Maybe all this crying… inside of me… made me this person? But im weak and what’s wrong with that?! All my life I have been crying but… but these lessons have made me stronger?

 

You know, I will stop asking questions because I am getting more depressed, and if you are reading this, and you think I am kind of a crybaby? Well I am, but after getting all my

failures off me I am really a nice and strong person. How you ask? Well I have the bravery to write this even do it makes me feel like I am going to be judge. She will read this and maybe notice me? She will see that I made this beautiful (and depressing) story of my life just for her. Yes, I am positive, I will stop being a weirdo and became more of my true person. I mean, is better the ugly truth than a sweet lie. I love her and I say it. Well, maybe I am not that man to tell her personally but…. But I am shy what can I do?

 

The End

 

 

 

No its not the end, my life continues, but it’s the end for a story of my life.

WORLD WAR 3

By: Micheal Boylston

 

 

Part 1: Our home our fight

Time: 1:33 pm

Place: Some were in the USA.

My name is James… James Allen I was apart of a top secret team in the army. But I got captured and I was able to escape. Take a seat and let me tell you how. I was a captain in the army, jump team 3. At the time it was world war three and the people from brazil invaded. We were caught off guard but we still won. It was time for my team to be deployed and when we did there was missiles all around and a whole squad of fighter jets shooting at my team’s dropship before we knew what hit us the plane was going down. Half of my team landed but they were caught in the cross fire and well died. I was still in the plane when it crashed but I lived. But that was the moment that I got captured. Now come back next week and I will tell you how I escaped from there work camp.

By Christopher Clyde

Lights flicker around me as I regain consciousness. The whirs and clangs of heavy machinery drone from behind steel walls. The constricting space that I occupy houses the cot that I’ve been asleep on, with everything one would need for a small bedroom. Every facet of the chamber screams utilitarian, every unfamiliar light or panel appears to have purpose. I cannot recall how I’ve ended up here, nor how long I’ve been here. A bulkhead leads out of my room, giving way as I approach.

The hallways and rooms beyond look lived-in, yet eerily lifeless. The passages are lined with numerous minute details that imply years of use, all bearing traits that mark a decade of habitation. Yet, I sense that I am the only being to have ever stood here. Abandoned would be the wrong word to describe it, rather, unexplored. It’s as if the architecture had come into being as I’ve found it. Even the bedroom that I had awoken from shared this appearance. I fill with questions, but there is no one to ask, no one I could ever ask. As I approach a large, important-looking door, it dawns on me that I already know where I’m going. I don’t have any memory of this place, in fact, I don’t have any memories at all, yet I am drawn to this door.

The bulkhead is enormous, easily double my height and equally wide. Every inch of its surface is scuffed or scratched, with small dents pocking the entire face. It looks even further worn than the rest of the structure. The door is the definition of impenetrable, its edges lined with cogs and hydraulics; locking mechanisms you would find on a vault built to withstand atomics. Despite its many overbearing security features, the door begins to hiss and groan, parting at my touch.

The room beyond is pitch black. Lights flickering on as I approach. The digital sounds of an unfathomable current hum, activating enigmatic machinery. In front of me, at the end of the room, a panel spanning the entire wall turns on. It casts long, hard shadows with its brilliant glow. The display depicts an infinite void. It would be black, were it not alive with a million-billion specks of light. This is not a display, but a window, supplying me with an uninterrupted view of the stars. In front of the viewport is a well cushioned seat, enveloped by a control panel of knobs and dials. I surrender myself to the helm, oozing into the intricate padding that coats its surface. The panel ahead glows.

“The ‘Dacia’ beckons, dominus,” a voice declares from above. The digital undertone of its words betray the attempt at simulating a man. The system calls me master, though I do not recall having claimed propriety. I know not the purpose of the countless buttons and switches before me, but my hands do. They know by instinct how this mammoth machine operates. I grasp the twin joysticks beside me and stare into the beyond. The universe is at my fingertips.

The boy I once knew

By Danielle Rodriguez

I sip my coffee as I walk towards the museum; I jam out to my favorite song clearing away any bad vibes. I feel a presence next to me, so I stop my music and look to the side and to my surprise I meet a pair of dazzling green staring back into my dull brown ones. “Hi, I’m August” wow his name was as perfect as his eyes. A bit skeptical I introduced myself “Hi I’m Jean” I hold out my hand and he shakes it. I notice he has a cup of coffee as well as a book I notice it to be my favorite. “You know it has a good ending” I say while gesturing to the book his eyes sparkle at the mention of it “I do, its my favorite thing besides your eyes” his eyes gaze over my blushing cheeks. I stare at him speechless wondering what to say but before I could muster up a sentence he starts talking again “I have a keen eye for beauty I guess that’s why I introduced myself” he admits I feel my cheeks flush again but this time I’m not at a loss of words. “Wow don’t you have a way with words” I let a small laugh to hide how nervous I was he doesn’t seem real. I stare into his eyes wondering how they could be so vibrant and beautiful. I feel as if I’m falling in love how can one be as perfect as he is? August gazes at me he takes a sip of his coffee when he’s done, he gives me a goofy grin my heart flutters. I feel the butterflies in my stomach explode “I like it when you smile, it’s cute” I look into his eyes once again but this time I feel the adoration he has as he looks a me. When I blink, he’s gone the autumn leaves fade away and I’m back in the dimly lit me museum daydreaming of the boy I once met.

“But I love you,” he said. She didn’t know whether to believe him, well at least this time. If he hadn’t meant anything he’d said before what made her think he’d meant it now? Beside she always wondered what meaning the word “love” had in today’s world. In day to day life she heard people throw it around like it didn’t have a meaning. If only people understood the hurt and heartbreak, we go through. Only then would we realize the love we were showing others all along wasn’t real. Maybe this whole love ordeal wasn’t meant for her.

Excerpt from A Book I’ll Never Write #1 // Love Isn’t Meant for Everyone- Karen Gutierrez

What if love doesn’t exist and we’re all just caught up trying to figure out a way to have someone, so we don’t feel lonely? For some it can be a living fairytale and for others a sad wake up call letting you know to build your guard up protecting your heart from being broken once again. However, she knew what love meant to her. A meaning so special she needed other to know but proceeded to keep to herself. She hoped she wasn’t late to find someone special who would treat her right, who wouldn’t leave her broken and hurt in the end; someone who’s definition of love was similar to hers.

Excerpt from A Book I’ll Never Write #2// Love Isn’t Meant for Everyone- Karen Gutierrez

Poemas de Gustavo Cerati

Recopilados por Carlos Emilio Hultsch Martinez

-Cactus

Cactus suaviza mis yemas con su piel

Tiene cien años, solo florece una vez

En tu nombre, En tu nombre

Y tiene un veneno mas amargo que la hiel

Con solo invocarte voy a convertirlo en miel

En tu nombre, En tu nombre,

Y cuando te busco no hay sitio en donde no estés

Y los médanos, serán témpanos

En el vértigo, de la eternidad

Y los pájaros, serán árboles

En lo idéntico de la soledad

De la soledad

En tu nombre, En tu nombre

Y cuando te busco no hay sitio en donde no estés.

 

Written by: GUSTAVO ADRIAN CERATI

Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, SADAIC LATIN COPYRIGHTS, INC. Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

 

-Sweet Sahumerio.

 

Ella juega en el sillón

Esta descalza

Algo sobrenatural

La desplaza

Tiene forma de espiral

Quien lo sabe

Aguas silenciosas

Cubren su alma

Poesía circular

Pez espada

Puedo verla de perfil

Ondulándose en el mar

Como algas en el mar.

 

Songwriters: Hector Juan Pedro Bosio / Gustavo Adrian Cerati / Carlos Alberto Ficicchia / Mario Daniel Melero

Sweet sahumerio lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Sadaic Latin Copyrights, Inc Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

Christmas road trip

By: Danielle Rodriguez 

“Why are you calling me at 4am?” I say groggy from being awoken up from my slumber. How in the world is she wide awake at this time? I hear her shuffling around her room “Tessa if you don’t answer me, I’m hanging up and going back to bed” I yawn in the mist of speaking.

“Don’t go back to bed you need to pack” did I hear her correctly “Brooke get out of your bed and start packing we are going on a road trip!” I hear her cheery voice through the phone and I don’t know if she joking or not “I’m not joking Brooke now start packing cause I’ll be at your house in 15 mins oh and would you like some coffee sleepy head” wow she is truly insane

“Get me my favorite and I’ll be done in 10 mins” I hear myself say through the phone. I can’t believe her she’s been hinting at this for weeks now I guess she wasn’t joking. I grab my suitcase and stuff as many clothes as I can along with my toiletries and shoes. By the time I finish packing I grab my makeup bag and try to look reasonable I fix my ponytail and I grab my shoes and coat I lock up my house and pray mom and dad won’t be mad when they come back from there trip. As I walk down the driveway, I see Tessa pulling up.

“Wow impressive I didn’t know you woke up before 10” she teases “Come on lets go we have a long drive ahead of us slowpoke” she pops the trunk and I put my suitcase with hers and bring my blanket and pillow with me to the front. As I enter the car it begins to snow as it said it would on the news.

“So, where in the world are, we even going Tessa?” I question but knowing she won’t answer me with a serious answer

“Brooke prepare yourself we are going to the…. North Pole” she says while doing a drum roll on her steering wheel. I knew she wouldn’t answer my question “I’m kidding it’s a surprise I’m kid

napping you for a week and we are gonna go on the most epic road trip of our lives” I bet she had this planned out since we started Christmas break. I grab my coffee and turn up the radio and we continue our drive.

Death Woods

                       By Alexis Bennett

     I knew I couldn’t run anymore. My body was becoming too tired to push on. But I knew that thing, whatever it was, was still full of energy and was not going to stop chasing me any time soon. With that thought resonating through every bone in my body, I ran.

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     The day began just like any other. I woke up promptly at 5:00 a.m. after my – what was now typical - terrifying nightmare. It was just like every time before; I ran from something that was seemingly impossible to escape. Prior to this night, I had never caught a glimpse of the phantom that was following me. Just before I would discover its identity, I’d wake up, always in a cold sweat. This time, however, I got further than I ever had before.

The “dream” was always set in the same place: the old woods a mile behind my house. From afar, there seemed to be nothing to see. Its entrance was enticing and lined with beautiful red roses. It appeared to be inviting and homey. However, I knew that was not the truth, and I was not the only one. In the community, there was often whisperings about what occurred in the thick rows of oaks that filled the old Creek property. Many people had been reported missing after curiously attempting to adventure through what had been deemed, “Death Woods”, and see for themselves just what its corners held. Nobody to date has ever returned.

     I continued reflecting on my nighttime adventures while I ran down the stairs for breakfast. When I reached the kitchen, I noticed my house was empty, which was not unusual. I

was used to being alone. I had no siblings and my father left when I was a baby. So, it was just me and my mom; she went to work at 6 a.m. I turned to the cabinet to grab some bread for my pb & j. As I began to make my sandwich, I thought again about my dream. Running down the path, hearing the thing’s deep, heavy breaths in my ear, coming closer with every second.

Just as I finished that thought, I saw a large, dark figure in my peripheral vision. Feeling a cold breath on my neck, I whipped around and cried out.

     “Who’s there?” I yelled, into what was now an obviously empty room.

     I brushed it off and turned back to where my sandwich was. However, in place of the bread, there was a note. I grabbed it with the tips of my fingers, feeling danger emanating from the paper. I unfolded it slowly, afraid of what its contents would be. All that was written was two bold letters, “D.W.”. I immediately crumpled the note up and threw it in the trash. Pushing it out of my mind, I ran back upstairs to get ready for school.

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    Walking into my first hour, I still couldn’t push the dream out of my head. The fear it ignited inside me hadn’t faded. I was still terrified. I sat down at my desk and looked at the board. It was entirely blank except for two small letters scribbled in the bottom left corner. I looked at them once, then again just to ensure my eyes weren’t playing a trick on me. Unfortunately, they were not. The two letters read the same as the note I found this morning, “D.W.”

     Upon seeing what the letters were, I felt my stomach lurch. I raised my hand and waited for my teacher to call upon me so I could excuse myself. She was busy writing something on the board, so she didn’t notice me.

     Desperate to acquire her attention, I yelled out, “Mrs. Brown, may I please be excused? I don’t feel well.”

She turned away from the board to answer me.

    “Yes, June. You may be excused. Good luck,” she replied as she continued writing.

    Her tone sent chills down my spine and made me want to do nothing more than stay in my seat. Regardless, I stood up and began to exit the room. However, before the door closed completely, I saw what she had been writing on the board. Again, the two letters. This time, though, they were all over the board. It was like I was receiving some sort of signal.

The letters began to flash before my eyes. I closed them tightly and attempted to rub the letters away. When I opened them again, the hallway was not the same as it was before. It was much later now; the stars were out. I was staring into the groves of trees that seemed to have no end. I was at Death Woods. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It made no sense to me how I got here, or what had happened since I left my class.

     I began to look around at my surroundings, trying to find any detail that could explain these outrageous events. I studied the sign that originally informed me of my location. I noticed a little note attached to the bottom of the post. Expecting it to have the same letters inscribed, I grabbed it and hastily opened it.                    However, what I read was not the letters, but something more worrisome. I read it over and over, feeling my heart racing in my chest. All it said was one word, “Run”. I turned around and was greeted by the literal content of my nightmares: my monster. I sprinted through the trees, with the monster on my heels every step of the way.

     Not paying attention to the floor, I tripped over a tree root that was protruding from the ground. Again, I felt the breath of the monster on my neck. Right before I felt its cold hands

wrap around my neck to squeeze every ounce of life out of my body, I realized who the monster was. Death.

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