Masked

Painting by Shruti Doshi

Dancing With A Porcelain Doll

Never be afraid
Never run
Never hide
my enemy becomes myself and hides deep inside,
my mind was going to explode from this image I’d created,
my thick outer shell and mental walls had slowly faded
But there she was, standing there despite all odds.
Who knew a girl could have stood against my mental walls.
Which seemed like armies and armies who were loaded to the max
my guns,
my shields
my arrows
my tanks
She only smiled.

She walked with such grace
That could melt a single bullet
She smiled with such beauty that the arrows could never reach
She talked with such kindness that even the soldiers couldn’t defeat, they all fell before her
And no matter how many defences and walls I could possibly set up they would all just crumble by her feet. Like a raven with a broken wing.
No matter her flaws that I could never seem to find she was perfect
Although she couldn’t see.

She was blinded by hatred
Not for others,
Not for her friends
Not even for the stupidity in this world
But for herself

She hated the way she looked
How her hair was always straight and looked simple and bleak
How her teeth were always crooked and her smile looked pretty stupid
And how her laugh sounded like wailing monkeys

I always wondered where she got that phrase from
But all I needed to know was that it wasn’t true
None of it was

She laughed like an angel singing the prettiest melody,
She sung with such emotion that even the demons that surrounded her fell away
Like her voice was the most powerful weapon
and it was
but she didn’t use it.

And the second her song ended
The mirrors would come back
and she broke down
Tearing at her face screaming why she couldn’t look like the other girls.
She gunned herself down, surrounding herself with darkness and yet she didn’t make a sound.
The truth shielded behind her smile
She acted like everything was fine and hid her true emotions with a simple laugh
if only you could see that her laugh actually meant so much more.
She treated her skin like paper and imprisoned her voice.
She trapped her emotions and forgot what made her unique
She forgot what made us human
She forgot what made us different

She hid herself in darkness
and threw herself to the ground
cutting herself off from humanity
hoping she would be the one to burn
Hoping that her ashes would just get blown away
Like a faint memory that you didn’t even realize was there, she hoped you’d forgot.

And without realizing the pain she would cause she tried to disappear
But stopped,
because she finally managed to realize
That I was there

I saw her with the scissors in her hands surrounded by strings
of her guitar which played the songs and memories of her life
I was there
She knew a single snip could end it all yet she still stood there unfazed
I was there
She felt alone but that soon changed because she finally figured out that
I was there
She didn’t see me but I didn’t have to utter a single word either for her to know
I was there

She stopped
because she knew I was there

And I was there because she only smiled.
She looked past all my flaws
and faced my armies,
courageously taking them on
She repaired me.
Far after my battle cry’s were sung
She stood there at the edge of my boundaries
Unfazed by the shattered glass all around me
I was broken
Nothing but a pointless girl that couldn’t function
Yet she only smiled
Picking up the shards
she pieced them together
not caring whether it would cut her and leave a scar
She told me it was worth it

So I was there
standing in front of her mirror and we faced it together
Like two old friends that knew each other forever

I told her to smile.
I told her that I would never leave her
not even after the last strings of her guitar were strung.

-Ayisha Spaan

Locked In Elastics

    I’m shaken awake, and my first thought is the social tonight. How on Earth am I going to survive when I’ll be surrounded by the richest, coolest people there are in Riverbank High? Not to mention the morning at school and at the breakfast table with my sister, Ava. We used to be the closest of sisters until we moved here, and I started sharing this plain white, IKEA-furnished room with my brother. Now, I can just see her walking past while Stacey sets her sidekicks loose on me, making sure I have two purple bruises on each cheek, to match my usual hairband. Nobody has a ponytail at school, and I’m reminded of it every day, but ever since I was eleven years old, I just can’t bring myself to let it loose in front of everyone for them to see my blonde-brown waves. Ava couldn’t be more jealous of my hair, she has straight, oily dirty-blonde hair, and not much of it. So it’s only at night when I go to bed that I let my hair breathe.

I quickly snatch up the comb from the vanity and pull my hair up in a ponytail, the plain purple band strained so much it’s almost broken. I climb into my pair of light-blue Reebok running shoes, a white, loose shirt, and shorts, and stand in front of the mirror. It doesn’t get better than this. Simple is much better and much more comfortable than my sister’s high heels and short skirts. I stand in front of my brother’s bed and stare at his beautiful face, still young and innocent. I lean down, the ends of my hair falling onto his face, and kiss him on his plump rosy cheeks.

“Adriana, Nils, wake up!” My wandering mind is snapped to my room and to the next step in my routine: dressing Nils. By the time I have my grumpy brother in my arms, my mom is already calling us down again. It always takes forever to dress Nils, because he has too much fun annoying me by pretending he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying.
“One arm, good, the other arm now,” He smirks and leaves his chubby arm lying limply to his side.

“You haven’t given me my morning quote.” He crosses his arm over his chest. Oh right, he loves these. Every morning I find a new quote, and he doesn’t understand a single word of it but two years ago when Grandpa died, I said these made you stronger.
“Okay, I found a good one. ‘Never change who you are because someone has a problem with it.’” I whisper it into his ear like a secret.
He stares at me, and his young, honey-brown eyes dig into my soul, seeing what I mean. For some reason, he has this habit of staring into people’s eyes when he thinks what they’re saying is important. And every morning, he looks into my eyes and whispers that I’m the best sister, better than Ava. In other words, every morning he makes my day and breaks my heart.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better brother too.” I wink, and he smiles from ear to ear, splitting his chubby radiant face in two.
“Come on, I’ll bring you along to the beach tomorrow if you listen and don’t pipe a word about it, okay?” At this, he gives me a knowing look and nods, at which I pick him up and carry him to the kitchen.

“There you are.” My mom exclaims as she greets our theatrical morning entry. “Your sister told me you were going to the social, your first Freshman social, congratulations. I’m so proud. I heard there are going to be so many people there.” At this, I try to put on an excited face, but it must turn into a very unattractive grimace because she adds “And you need to let those beautiful curls down.”
At this, I grab my hair. No way. “I like myself with my hair up, and I’m not as warm, it must be really hot in there,” I emphasize how hot it will be, fanning myself with my hand. She tut-tuts and shakes her head in disapproval but lets me be, turning her attention to the burning toast. Ava gives me a scowl and whispers.
“Since when does Horsehead ‘like herself’? Huh?” I turn my head away so she doesn’t notice how red I turn and ram her ribs, which she returns.

“Have a nice day, girls. Curfew is 10 PM.” She kisses us goodbye and we hear a loud honk from outside. The bus. I quickly grab my bag but Ava takes her time, taking picking up her sweater, checking inside her bag, looking at herself in the mirror. What a self-absorbed jerk she’s become.

The bus ride is painful, because no matter how much I try to ignore Ava’s constant assaults, I keep having to stare at my feet because my hands shake too much to hold a book. If only there was one nice person who wasn’t too experienced in the art of being invisible, maybe I’d actually have a friend that those two bullies, Ava and Stacey, couldn’t get to. But no, these people have all been at Riverbank Junior High too long to remember what it’s like to have a friend like Adriana Wells who will only bring trouble and her sister to your life.

I remember yesterday’s little beach excursion. I do this about two times a week, and sometimes I bring Nils along. I remember how I ran down these exact streets. I plunge into yesterday, living it like now. The sun wasn’t out yet, but nevertheless, the remnants of a full moon were surrounded by the light-blue start of a beautiful spring day. I opted for the grass next to the sidewalk, and the smell of spring grass and fresh dirt filled my nostrils, mingled with the salty smell of the sea. The buildings are blocks of white, light blue, and grey cutting the roads to defined lines. The streets were eerily quiet, yet morning is the only time of day when the songbirds can be heard, and when you spot squirrels scurrying around on trees, busying themselves with spring work.

The bus arrives at school, and my mind is abruptly snapped back to the present. I’m jostled in all directions as Ava hurries to her Sophomore gang. I walk through the bus bay and up the many stairs to the Grade 7 hallway. As soon as I walk through the door, I freeze. Stacey Meyer locks eyes with me and nods to her friends. Her pack of wolverines, Anna and Lydia, both look at me and smirk. I was right, no matter how much my mom thinks this is going to make me fit in, she’s wrong. I don’t fit in with any crowd. Even with my best friend last year, I was just a sidekick. There was her without me but I didn’t even exist without her. I’d much rather be teased by these idiots all day.

I walk to my locker, pretending not to have noticed them staring right at me. Of course, I have a bottom locker, so I squat down and fling my bag to the floor. Just as I click my old lock open, I hear Stacey’s trademark pink shoes clicking on the ground.
“Hey, Adriana.” It sounds like a drawl, a high-pitched cackle. All of a sudden, a dozen people have come to watch. That’s exactly what she wants, though, to humiliate me, so I keep quiet, making my hands move to take my books out of my bag.

“So, I heard you were coming to the social tonight.” At this, I stand up. I can’t stand this for another day. She’s been doing this all year, and it’s December. Next she’s going to trip me, exactly what she usually does. Everyone’s too afraid of her to stand up out of the crowd. Even with Ava, she doesn’t want trouble with her own friends. Except for me, I have absolutely nothing to lose.
“I hope you’re not gonna keep that hair in a ponytail, are you now?” her North Carolina South American accent piercing my ears.
“As a matter of fact, I am.” I stand up. Just as I predicted, Anna sticks her foot out just as I make a step, and I fall on my face.
“Oops, I’m sorry.” She giggles that fake small laugh that sounds like she has a cat strangling her throat.

“Leave her alone, now.” We all jump. There he is, Alexandre Mason, also known as Ava’s ultimate crush. He stares down at my face and reaches out to take my hand. I feel my feet rising off the ground as electricity courses through our fingertips.

“Thanks.” I murmur, just as I’m brushing off non-existent dust and staring at my sneakers.
“No problem, anytime.” And he winks. He winked at me. Now, everyone is staring, even the teachers, as Alexandre Mason, the coolest person in school, holds my shoulder and stays a second too long, making me lift my head and stare into his eyes. I can’t wrench myself away. I’m glued to his deep blue eyes, freckles, strong jaw, and red hair. He’s much taller than me, and I have to look up.

Then, the worse thing that could happen obviously happens. “Adriana, what are you doing.” Ava stomps over, red and screaming. Ava looks at me with dark, furious eyes, and we all jump, Alexandre’s blonde eyebrows furrowing.
“How dare you. It’s an embarrassment to the Wells family” I am left speechless, mouth agape. She takes my elbow and pushes me into the alcove between the lockers and the wall. My heart pounds and tears start welling in my eyes.

“What on Earth were you thinking? Do you know how much you’re a disgrace to this family?”
“You’re the disgrace, Ava, Grandpa would be ashamed,” I whisper this, staring at the frilly crop top she’s been wearing recently.

She goes quiet. I look up at her face, and to my surprise, tears streak her makeup covered face.
“When we moved, I knew he would die soon. I knew.” She stands there, leaning on the wall above my head, limp.
“When he looked at me, I saw how he was no longer desperate, Adriana.” We are down to whispers now. This is the closest we’ve been for two years. The first time she’s spoken to me without making fun of me or teasing.
“He was ready, but we weren’t. He would’ve wanted us to stay together, and I tried.” I’m angry. So angry. How could she, leave me, when we were so close? Leave me when I needed her most when she was jealous but I did nothing.
“I was jealous, Adriana. He gave you that book, and I got nothing. He didn’t trust me, and I know why. I betrayed you.” She’s wiping away tears now, sobbing into my shoulder. I catch Stacey staring, and I remark that everyone’s eyes are glued to us. To the unexpected sister-to-sister reunion.

“I’m sorry too. I tried everything to embarrass you, at first. Then I gave up. I forgive you.” We look at each other for a moment too long. She looks at me, measuring how far she can push this conversation, and reaches behind me, setting her hand on the purple hairband holding my hair in the ever-lasting pony-tail.
“I miss seeing your beautiful hair down, you know. Grandpa loved it.” Beautiful? That’s new but welcome. I’m overtaken by an irresistible want to be free from this purple hairband, free from my own prison.
“Take it out.” She looks at me, confused and surprised. “Take it out and throw the elastic in the bin. Please?” She takes it out and slowly walks over to the school bin and lets it go in the bin. I feel my curls fall on my shoulders. I’m free.

- Valentine Shlefier

Through the Window

I sit down and look through my window
Out into the darkness

Everything is cloaked in
the silence of the night

Once my eyes adjust,
I can just make out shapes
Rectangles and circles
Squares and triangles

My world doesn’t have these things
All my world has is a blank empty space
My life is filled with nobody but me
A never ending prison

Nobody knows where I am
Nobody will ever know who I am

Through the window
A light
breaks through
A beautiful and pure light
Not a lot at first
Just enough

Just enough for the world to be bathed
in a soft, sleepy, grey light
Just enough for all these shapes to be
identified into actual objects

Houses, cars, dogs
Everything I have ever dreamed of
My world doesn’t have these things
All my world has is a blank, empty space

I am all alone in my life
Nobody to talk to
Nobody lives in my life
Nobody but me

Through the window, I see
Things are starting to move
Lights are turned on
Doors are opened

I sometimes like to imagine what it would be like
to go through the window
To live in that happy life
To have no worries or troubles

There is noise now
Gentle and quiet
Perfect harmony
Those noises are what shapes their reality

The kids shout goodbye as they leave for school
Adults start up their cars
All of this is perfectly normal
They would never dream of it being any different

What is it like to live in that world?
I will never know

For I am trapped in this prison of my world
Day after Day
Year after Year
Until the day I die

I will forever
look through the window
at this happy,
peaceful world

I will forever dream
of living in such a place
Which I will never reach
from the prison that is my life
- Isabel Chapman