There is an alien among us. She has built a wall across her heart, one made of sheets so thick others do not see her. Until they realize— An alien is here, an alien is here—there is the alien. She tries to walk the halls in silence, tries to creep up to classrooms. It works, and the alien is not noticed. * * * Homework. “Damn it,” I mutter to myself quietly. But everyone hears, and they crowd around me. “Are you hurt?” “Is there anything I can do?” “If you need anything, just tell!” I force a smile upon my face. “I’m okay—I just forgot my homework.” A girl whom I have never once noticed in my life walks up to me. In her hand is her homework. * * * This alien—she is an experiment. She is a fake, she is different. And she knows that nobody will try to break down that wall around her. Who can see her first behind those green paper walls? * * * Maybe it’s because I’m rich, because my dad is a millionaire. I know nobody wants to be friends with a nobody. I know that nobody would willingly give their own homework away . . . To a nobody. Who will like me once I grow up? Once I am not different from the rest of them? * * * This alien, she knows that everyone loves that wall. They probe and push and talk. They do not care. She is an experiment, a test to see who can take away that wall first. * * * I walk these halls alone. Nobody comes to me until they realize that it’s her, the girl with the money! Soon enough, I might forget who I am. I might just be the girl with the money. * * * This experiment is gone. This experiment is a nothing. Julia Li, 12Mason, OH Daania Sharifi, 13Gainesville, VA
March 2019
Blurred Love
iPhone 6S Daania Sharifi, 13Gainesville, VA
Some Days
Some days I am a girl. On these days I like to giggle and play with toys. I wear bright blue clothes and shirts with cats on them. When I feel like a girl, my feelings change. I feel kind and happy. I like being a girl. But . . . There is a downside. My heart is bigger than on other days. It becomes too big for my body. This causes my feelings to mix together, and that results in emotional drama. This doesn’t make me want to be a girl. So . . . Some days I am a boy. On these days I like to be silly and play rough. I wear darker clothes, like blue, black, or red. When I’m a boy, I feel like my body fits me better. Sometimes it’s as if God intended me to physically be a boy, but changed his mind at the last second. I like being a boy. But . . . Sometimes I feel like I’m too awkward to be a boy. I’m not a very sporty person, and I don’t like jokes. This causes me to appear abnormal and too “sensitive.” This doesn’t make me want to be a boy. So . . . Some days I am a dragon. On these days I like to stomp through the hallways and growl under my breath. I wear light clothing on these days so, being a Dutch Angel Dragon, my fur doesn’t overheat. When I’m a dragon, I like to use pronouns like it, they, them, and their. But . . . Dragging around invisible wings, horns, and a tail all day gets exhausting really fast. I get agitated, and sometimes chirp swears (or something rude) in my language. Even though no one can understand, it is not a good feeling to be cursing, even if it’s an accident. This doesn’t make me want to be a dragon. So . . . It’s really quite simple. I make another choice . . . to be Olivia, who is currently a dragon (roar!!!). Olivia Cadham, 11Ontario, Canada
