Cen10 Writers Creative Writing @CHS

Snowflake

My uncle

My one and only uncle

I’ll never hear your voice or feel your hug,

Listen to your heartbeat or make you laugh

But I always have you in my thoughts

My one and only uncle

one and only

one and only like a snowflake

delicate snowflakes that are said to all be

different and unique to themselves

but how are we to check every snowflake to see the difference?

And learn every in of the snowflake

We can only assume they’re different

Assuming how humans assume

Consuming how humans consume

Like feeling the feelings then denying feeling those feelings

And feeling ashamed for feeling those feelings that you deny feeling

So why do we say that all snowflakes are different

And not that all snowflakes are similar

Connected by the traits they share

But unique by which the ones they differ

Harbored Silver

I could feel a sturdy hand press against the small of my back, sending shockwaves like fire spreading underneath my skin. His calm breath slow and collected against the even cooler night breeze. The rocking of the boat tipped and turned the already blurry specks of light that made up the skyline of New York’s busy epicenter. I clutched the handrail, ignoring the pocks of goosebumps rising and falling along my skin—not just from the cold.

“I suppose I should retire for the night,” he starts, releasing his hand from me, “I suggest you soon do the same, Cecilia.”

The air is quick to swallow up what was once covered by the heat of his hand, and I am left in shivers, regretting the choice of a backless outfit, “Why so soon?”

“There is unfinished business to attend to.” His response is short and almost practiced.

“What unfinished business?” I turned to face him, leaning against the handrail with all but grace as I realized how cold it against my bare back, then settled for a more demanding pose. The lights of the cabin shining through the doorway obscures his expression as they envelope only his backside.

“Nothing that concerns you, dear, I assure you.” He turned to the side, revealing the soft expression on his face as he watched my endeavor, then went on, “If it so bothers you to know then, by all means, let your curiosity wander, but there is no place for women in politics.” He lifted a glass of sparkling champagne from a nearby table and brought it to his lips to take a sip. If he was at all shocked by how cold it likely had become due to the current temperature outside, he did well to hide it.

“Politics? And what politics could possibly come of a game of cards and gin, Oliver?”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

A grimace twisted my lips as he stepped forward, glass in hand, then he pressed a firm kiss against my forehead. “I will join you by midnight.”

~

The clock ticked menacingly against the wall, mimicking only the rhythmic sway of the boat. All was quiet until a scuffle broke out on deck. Since I was a single level beneath the floor, the steps were rather rampant against the ceiling I slept under, and it kept me from ignoring it any longer.

I gathered up my night skirts and snatched a jacket from the gilded hook on the door. I groggily jammed my feet into my slippers, then shuffled up the stairs and into the night air once again. I was no doubt tired from being disturbed so suddenly, but I was not mistaken when I knew who was doing the scuffling.

‘Oh bother, not again.’

The two men, Oliver and another man I likely saw earlier but paid no mind to, clearly drunk of their minds, were tangled in each other’s arms with fistfuls of hair and coats, trying to pull the other over the handrail and into the chilled water. They mumbled inaudible swears at each other, tussling as the two of them fell to the wooden deck floor.

“Would the two of you cut it out already!?” I rammed between the two of them and separated their clawing hands from each other. A hand flew lazily past my ear, but another grabbed onto my forearm with a hard grip. I jerked around to make eye contact with the owner, only to find Oliver making fully sober eye contact with me.

“Oliver!” was unfortunately the only think I could think to say before another lazy blow landed against my temple. I fell back, but Oliver’s grip held me steady.

“Go downstairs and retrieve the key I stowed in my dresser drawer underneath the Holy Bible,”

The gears in my mind began turning. I had a strange feeling that this was not at all about politics… He paused to land another blow on the man’s face, likely bored from inactivity on Oliver’s part, then continued “Once you have the key, go to the back hallway behind the mirror. There will be a safe embedded in the wall. Unlock it and throw its contents into the bay.”

“But Oliver-”

“Cecilia, just do it!”

Her presence

This planet

This little blue spec is the soul of our life’s

Every war

Culture

Idea

Is made on this tiny blue spec in the infinite universe

When was the last time you admired the clouds?

Felt the grass between your toes? Not those plastic sole shoes you wear

Skin to earth.

What it used to be

Relax your jaw

Let your belly hang out

Breathe in her air like it’s the last breath you’ll ever take

Feel her presence

Feel her pain

Her sky starts to cry as you cut down her trees

Washing what was once your trash into her creeks

Into her rivers

Into her ocean

feed the fish, right?

That’s what you laughed as you through your cup out the window

Feed your mind dude

80% of oxygen in our entire atmosphere comes from that ocean

She provides that water you drink, that food you eat, that crisp air you take advantage of every single day

Yet there are clouds of carbon smog coming from factories like a demon’s breath

Feel her presence

Feel her pain

If Man Were A Monster

If man were a monster, he might as well look that way.

The most beautiful of creatures aren’t always as they seem.

Soft ruby lips might lift to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Long silky fur hides silver claws, dripping with blood of the precious innocent.

An elegant, marvelous creature, seen out of the corner of your eye, could be on its way to tear apart the heart of its next victim.

The most hideous of creatures aren’t always as they seem either.

Dull colors conceal vibrant streaks of bright personality.

Dirty feet distract from happy smiles, eager to help and love

Matted fluff destroys the image that they hope others would see while looking in their deep thoughtful eyes.

Looking at these creatures, it becomes hard to tell which is good and which is evil.

Long years of tedious practice can teach the nastiest of monsters to look pleasant and warm.

Then why, can man not be counted as one of these creatures as well?

He can.

Hidden inside the skin of humans are many evil creatures.

They slowly consume until the human is gone and only the monster is left.

When these creatures are in control, when these monsters take man’s heart, why does it stow away in the skin of a seemingly “okay” person?

You can assume these monsters have no shame, as they repeat their foul actions over, and over again. So why do they hide? If man were a monster, he might as well look that way.

Life

They say life is short but still only a teen it feels like an eternity. I feel trapped in the same day as it repeats itself over and over like a hamster running on it’s wheel.

Hoping each time I wake up it will be a different day. From 1-7, 1-24, 1-365 over and over again. I am growing up though I feel stuck. I see people change but when I come home

to look in the mirror I am still the same.

At night I lay in my bed wondering if I am wasting the time. Wasting my time waiting. I waste my time waiting to finally grow up. will it be worth it. It only costs a life I’ve

built for the past decade and a half. Because when I grow up I will not remember you, I will not remember my friends or the time you made me feel a little bit better on a bad day.

And the things I will remember will just be stories. And the stories I tell will be forgotten days after they are told. Because I am too busy trying to make more stories out of my life.

The day I broke a bone doing something dumb will one day just be “Don’t ever do that or you could break something” or advice on how to deal with pain so my past pain wont become yours.

The only days that these young years matter of which I am living is now. It feels like an eternity but you can’t go on your favorite ride at the amusement park for you are to tall, you don’t wear

the clothes stuffed in the back of your closet for they don’t fit your interest anymore, you cannot go trick or treating now without getting asked “Aren’t you a little to old for that”. Because you are growing up.

Your favorite movie that feels like came out a couple months ago actually came out three years ago. Because like they say time flies. It flies right past you and takes those memories you no longer cherish.

So I will enjoy life now because life IS short.