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Dalat High School Literary Magazine 2011-2012
Copyright 2012 ACAPSTIAM A Dalat International School Publication Contact us at ACAPSTIAM@gmail.com
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The ACAPSTIAM Team

Jacqueline Ashkin
Editor-in-Chief
Sam Yeo Jim Choi

Heads of Short Stories
Ji Hoon Mun Shawn Kim

Heads of Poetry
River Tabor
Art Manager
Joseph Kim Chan Hee Park

Heads of Advertisement
David Stengele
Teacher Advisor
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to all who contributed the literary magazine! Thank you to the members of ACAPSTIAM who were with us first semester Sarah Uzzle, Winnie Tan, Ben Unruh, and Jordan Strong. Also, thank you to all the students who unknowingly contributed their artwork to this years magazine, as well as Joseph Stoltzfus, who gave us our cover art on almost no notice.
Table of Contents
Preface Poetry Short Stories Non-Fiction 7 9 63 95
Preface
Five very different students sat in Dalat International Schools Room 28, united in their love for writing. As they excitedly reviewed each others work, they nagged their supervisor, Mr. David Stengele, with one simple question: Why did Dalat not have a high school literary magazine? How come middle school could do it and high school couldnt? What was stopping the development of a high school literary magazine?
All these legitimate inquiries would eventually lead to something. At the dawn of the new school year, Mr. Stengele announced the start of an x-block dedicated to creating the very literary magazine that had been discussed so many months ago.
Amalgamating a team of would-be authors, ACAPSTIAM was thrown into development. Of course, the literary magazine was not the ACAPSTIAM we know today it did not even have a name! Over the last school year, two dedicated teams of students worked (very hard) to inspire the student body and convince them to submit their work.
It is their passion for creative writing that has left us with a magazine full of potential. ACAPSTIAM still has a long way to go we are still only in our fledgling stages. My hope 7|ACAPSTIAM2011 -2012
is that the students to come after me will also see the great importance of creative writing in their lives. Creative writing is an outlet akin to none an art form with no limitations or boundaries, simply left to be molded by its maker. Our God is a creative God; He encourages us to use the media He has fashioned to create, inspire and express ourselves for His glory.
These pages are the fruit of a years labor. Without further ado, welcome to ACAPSTIAM! May you enjoy the words to follow mine.
Jacqueline Ashkin
Editor-in-Chief
POETRY
The Princess
Mischievous little Pixie eyes Peek out from beneath the Coverlet. Jump out, My little butterfly friend, A sweet little fairy until the end. Sing your song, Tell your tale, Mesmerize us, Beloved imp. And when all is done, When youre all through, Let that splash of gold fall across the bed, The suns captive rays Caught by your very head. Its glory and hue Trapped in the golden little whimsy curls Of my precious little whimsy girl.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Wending the Way

Wending the way through that Waning Glass Living all days til the very last There is nothing half so wondrous nor so sweet As a path not yet trodden nor yet beat And living life in plainest prose Is like a closed, un-blossomed rose A could-have-been or would-have-been But uncertain just how to begin
And so it grows, but neer to thrive And no one knows, how much alive It could have been or would have been If not Ignorant just how to begin
Grasping sun and straining far Gazing toward Heaven and brightening star And red petals, frenzied, trembling still And hope to strain enough until Their curves unfurl and open wide So that their depths might reach outside And reaching so, exposed and bare The roses beauty shines out rare
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Never would it have been so seen If not for Inspirations gleam And all can see what it has been For, knowing not how to begin Does not halt a rose from stunning bloom Blooming full til it finds the tomb Wending its way through that Waning Glass Living always til the very last Emma Anne Lane (12)
Hate
Hate is like a plague That destroys your heart, Taking over every good feeling Without any healing. But all you need to stop this infection Is a little rain, love and correction; Then the sun will come out for a while, And you can go to bed with a smile.
Jessie Brandon (9)
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Penelope
My steps quickened. I looked behind me and did not see That terrible thing that sought to devour me. The rugged floor of cobblestones teased me at every step. My steps quickened. My breathing grew louder; mist blew into my cold white face An alleyway I came upon, I once again attempted to elude my pursuer The darkness shrouded me and I plunged into the blackness, My steps halted. I heard a small soft whisper, You can run but do not dare hide My blood turned to ice and coldness suffused my limbs, I willed my feet to move but they mocked me, Now the slow, deliberate footsteps came forward, My steps hastened, I ran blindly into the mist, eyes blurred with the fear that clenched my heart In my haste I fell, tripped by the uneven ground, Blood splattered the stone that my face discovered, The smell of death lingered in my nostrils. I knew I could run no longer. My last choice was to embrace the evil that lurked in my shadow. I slowly turned my head to see that thing that approached. 13 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Out of the abyss it came, head held high and tail wagging. A puppy. I at once remembered the saying: Conscience makes cowards of us all. Jordan Strong (12)
The Tempest
Waiting, vaguely apprehensive. Clouds gather, winds pick up. Were trapped in the most poignant melancholy, Until the wind lifts up our spirits, and the rain washes clean our souls And, enveloped in euphoria, We become the storm. Aaron Bengs (9)
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To the Great Farfoozle Fair!

Scalooping through the florest Sweet Slumkin skipped along Picking up petunias Tooting a cheerful song
She came upon a berpslpat Which gave a shiny glare She picked it up and played it strong And gave the joobuggies a scare They fluttered out of the sploof trees And shot up to the skies
When, what do you know, Slumpkin saw something That caught her eye Falumkilump was strolling along in sock jacket and velvet tie!
Now where did you get your costume, for the Farfoozle fair? I got it from my cousin, 15 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
The one and only, clair! Oh! Take me to you cousin, my dear Falumkilump! I want to get a slick suit, To play the jelly bomb jump!
To my cousin, off we go! So you may win the game, Youll win the goldbell flower, Along with fortune and fame!
Scalooping through the florest The friends went skipping along Picking up petunias Tooting a cheerful song
To the house of old Eclaire, The two friends finally came They got a slick suit costume To play the jelly bomb game
They whoozled up to the giant green hill To finally stop and stare At the tents and open lights below Of the great Farfoozle Fair! Joseph Stoltzfus (9) 16 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Bones
They say that a dead man tells no tales, but they are wrong. It is the dead man's tales that say the most, his words that speak the loudest, his life forever immortal -ized by a mindless people. Because after the rain, after the storm, after the world has quit, we are left with just that, a dead man's tales.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Ode to AC-Or Lack Thereof

The air is still, the light is gone, The sun burns down upon the lawn, And in the class we sit and sigh, As we think of cooler days gone by.
Oh how I hate when the power stills, It significantly lowers electricity bills, But alas! In our class we slowly die. Please, turn it on! We desperately cry
I thought when Dalat got its own power station Wed not have the same issues as the rest of the nation, But it seems I was wrong, since alas, we are sitting, In English, where I wrote a poem that seemed only fitting. Brittany Hurlbut (10)
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Hide-and-Seek
Patience is an immature thing, Always playing hide-and-seek with me. When needed most, she flees To her newest peeking spot.
Or is it that she knows- too wellThat I am difficult to handle? Nevertheless, when found, Patience is troublesome to follow, Her rules much like those of a strict mother.
Patience does not allow me to be impetuous With Self Control by her side. Patience is an immature thing In my thoughts anyway. Hayli Mayo (9)
Baptism of Conformity
The cold water rushes over your body. You get lost trying to find the holiness in this event A culture betrayed Love abandoned all to fit in. Your books burned as heretics 19 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Your music deemed blasphemous Eloquent language replaced By Terse Choppy Sentences Your clothes destroyed Ones deemed holy put on. You rise out of the water Baptized in the new generation Void of life Void of sacredness Iconoclast Nobody (10)
Summer Days
I remember those long and happy days Where in the summer we used to play Then came the day when I had to let go The clouds seemed darker than they had ever been The birds did not sing and the sun did not shine
As I wave goodbye to you, my love The plane lifts up into the sky and disappears into blackness The ravens caw in laughter at me Making my life miserable as it can be
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The days following the day you left have never been the same Without you, life is dreary It was so unfair how the world was happier than me But you were never theredid you feel the same as I?
Some days are better, some days are worse The best times are when I think of you When I remember those days we played in the sun When we were together in the plum tree I knew I was dreaming and I wish I would never wake. Joshua Weisner (9)
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Nature or Civilization
Once again We are born from a seed of nature and into the green masses We walk as We attempt To leave this rabid place Because Nature is amazing Is a lie Technology is amazing. Here we realize Civilization Brings a feeling of sanctity which will not be found in Nature Within the boundaries of the city We return to reason and faith without the distractions Of the woods But with the carefree demeanor We must realize, it all has to be given up
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Natures gift of legs Is to be given up for a bike which is traded in for Technologys sleek car Which will all be worth it one day. Spend time to enjoy the beauty of nature Its regrettable Follow the river of technology to civility Because Nature, Without it, you will become one with Civilization We have to make a choice Nature or Civilization It all resides in us And we will be forever lost if we do not reverse our thinking Winnie Tan (12)
Man
Man is kind, but man is cruel Man is smart, but man is a fool Man will live and man will die Man will laugh and man will cry Man thinks through, but man is rash Man will make, but man will smash Man will dream, his dreams they fly
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Like birds that soar high in the sky But when dreams fail life crashes down Like burned buildings, theyre ashes now Man is blind, yet man can see His God is one, but also three Man cannot, but man can be Man is you, and man is me Jonathan Chandra (9)
My Beloved Stalker
I know you facebook me all the time. Liking all 1,067 of my pictures Was not very subtle of you. But thats ok. And I do see you every time you Leave another love note in my locker, But thats ok too. It was interesting to learn The number of hairs on my head And my average resting heart rate per minute Between 9 pm and 2 am on Friday nights. Yes
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Also, Its funny that you just Happen to be at every movie that I see In the seat next to me. With my favorite drink. And it was so thoughtful of you to give me a present for my birthday You know The life sized cardboard cutout of Yourself in your usual gothic attire? And I couldnt help but notice That you redecorated your locker With pictures of me. And the shirt you wore to our lock-in The one with my face and 2getha 4eva on it Was out of this world But my mom does wonder why Im married to you on facebook. She claims I tell her nothing Now, I dont want to sound ungrateful For that iPad you got me for Christmas, But I just have one last request
Please sign this restraining order! Jackie Ashkin (10) and Sarah Uzzle (12)
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Dance
Hear the beat, feel the beat, That is how you dance, Dancers breaking, DJs spinning. Stepping and tripping, Freezing and ripping, Match the beat you dance. Audiences screaming, Fans booing, Hip Hop winning - breakdance beat it. Posing and remixing Take it down, you got this. Hear the beat, feel the beat, That is how you dance. David Beak (9)
Judgement
How can you miss something You never really had? I dont know how, 26 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
But I do know that its possible. Why? Because I feel it now. I dont want this life. I dont want this place. I cant move, I cant breathe In this box.
Im sure this is not what Life is about. Ive heard stories, actually.
Space. Food. Shelter.
Love. Abstract concepts To one such as myself. You treat me like Im stupid. You treat me with Fear, Anger, Disrespect. 27 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
You treat me like you treat Everyone else. And yet you wonder At your state in life.
I am not surprised, Let me tell you this. All the money in the world It wont save you. It cant.
So leave. Leave while you still can. Jackie Ashkin (10)
Taste of Life
His life is a cup of caramel macchiato Sweet but somehow the bitterness annoys him. Her life is like a medicine pill Bitter but somehow heals her body. Our life is a bland cup of coffee We try to make it as sweet as possible. Eun Hyo Chang (10) 28 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
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The Survival Game

Level one. Master the secret words of the Karate mouth.
Level two. Master the magical instrument that lures the enemy away.
Level three. Master the formulas which wields the world.
Level four. Dodge the monstrous looking vege-man and the hard stone rice he throws.
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Level five. Meditate in silence till you get the message from the Boss in time in a box. Level six. Solve the mystery of the evil drug by classifying compounds and properties.
Level seven. Escape the dangerous and popping papers that you will be tortured with when you get one.
Level eight. Master all the ancient tongues that were once forgotten for a long time.
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The masters of A to H is in control.
This finally ends with scars mended.
This Is the survival game you play every day. Hee Ra Chang (9)
True Friends
True Friends are hard to find But if I ever found one It would be like this: A friend who makes me smile Who loves my boisterous style A friend who doesnt pretend 32 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Whod always be there in the end A friend whod catch me when I fall Wipes my face whenever I bawl A friend whos so honest and true Someone who knows me through and through A friend who doesnt need dramas and fights Who pulls me aside whenever somethings not right A friend whos by my side on bad times And always my partner in my latest crimes A friend who joins me in my rollercoaster life Hanging on in the ups and downs But I guess to find one Ill have to be one Then that shall I be I just hope it wont cost a fee Cindy Chiem (9)
Christmas Day
Watch The snowflakes 33 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Softly falling (softly-softly) It means that winter is upon usHear the..

(Ding Dong!)
..and children..
(Yay!)
..Sleigh bells.. As they celebrate the day of Christmas
..calling!
.. In There is a SPARK of winter..The (But the cold cant get to us)Air.
And its cozy in our homes(Hear the fire roar!)
.. Ive often marveled to seeHow much Joy this season brings!
If the world lived in unity? Lucia Combrink (9)
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Someone to Trust
If you have someone to love you, then who will be against you? If you have someone to rely on, then who will deny you? If you have someone to trust, then it must, be true. If you have someone to lean on, then whats to be afraid of the devils deadly duel? Gods love is gold, never does it rust God makes himself present, like the jewels and the gifts. Obey him, honor him, respect him, we must, for Gods presence and love are everlasting. Claudia Droegsler (9)
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Bacon
The farmers raise the pigs from birth Then go to the smokehouse and take 'em The pigs break out and take control And turn farmers into bacon Kimberly Horton
Home
Humid air and palm trees, Cold-breath clouds and evergreens, Homes in different places, Still with the same things.
My sister sings in an off-key tune, Mother looks out the window and watches the moon, Father is reading his favorite book, Mewell, I'm hiding; you'll have to look.
A houseit can be bought or sold, But a home is a place that no matter how old, Or quirky or silly or falling apart, Is just a dear place that you hold in your heart.
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Kimberly Horton
Edward
Sparkling mascara dripping down your face, Your Sparkle body wash is a disgrace; Youre driving Bella to the mines, When you wear lipstick that really shines. Edward, would you give it up, And stop trying to sparkle with girls make up? Kimberly Horton
Judging The World

Band geeks Nerd Freaks Popular and Rude
Boy-chasers World-haters ADHD too
There are so many biases and stereotypes amiss Why can't we all be one big group 37 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
called "People who Exist?" Kimberly Horton
Emma
Emma, Emma, Im in a dilemma You seem so young and pretty in the cinema But you turned out to be one grumpy grandma
Emma, Emma, youre like the big bad wolf So I guess you can meet me on the roof You huff and puff till my heart falls down I tried to resist but you seem to insist
Come and take me away on your quid ditch Even though I know you are a witch But its okay, I can switch Until then I hope you say goodbye to Mitch
Cast a spell, set everything free Take my hand and come with me As I promise, this is the night you will want to see So probably I will take you to the sea
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I am of the age of seventeen Young and mighty I have been Handsome and gorgeous like youve never seen But why do you have to be so mean? Joseph Kim and Dwayne Lourdes (12)
Imagination
The sand dreams of the ocean. The ocean dreams of the sun. The sun dreams of the moon. The moon dreams of the cloud. The cloud dreams of the sky. Daniel Kim (10)
The Boy and the West Wind

A boy went wandering through a velvet wood And there, met the West Wind. They romped together and chased the weather But at last the West Wind said it must leave, For its own tempest brewed in the North Seas. The boy wept and sighed and wondered why His friend would go.
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Life is a bitter play, the Wind whispered, Two ActsHello and Goodbye! No! The boy cried. Not so! As if, by saying thus, it could not be. Without reply the wind whirled away.
And the boy was young and believed himself, But the years peeled past and petals wilted; And Time, the fleeting shadow, crept upon him Until he was no longer a boy --Instead, a man with a pretty wife Three boys of his own --And then, a girl A girl who cried only once, A thin, wistful wail which seemed to say Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
They buried her under the willow tree In white, spidery lace and a chain to match Her golden curls; More years fell to the waiting dust and gathered Around the grave of little fragile Ruth And every now and again, The boy-turned-man heard a ghostly laugh Which seemed to goad Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
One by one he watched them die, 40 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
His three boys-turned-men: The first, brave and strong, Became the froth of sea foam after a shipwreck; The middle, fierce and cold, Fell by the swift stroke of a sword; And the third, weak and tender, Dwindled as a stream trickles into a brook Slow and long and painful, Wheezing gently until his last breath which said, Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
The boy-turned-old-man Tried to ignore it, to forget it And for a while he did, pretending memories were As patterns of embroidery: insubstantial, ephemeral Until his lovely wife Small and dark and smiling Caught a clutching fever That raged for days with the fury Of the West Wind. She struggled and wept for The boy-turned-old-man stayed strangely silent As she tossed and turned under the spectator moon. In the end the fever tore the sweet life from her lips Echoing, cackling, Two ActsHello and Goodbye.
An old man went wandering through a velvet wood And there, reacquainted himself with the West Wind. 41 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
My old friend, said the Wind with a breezy grin; Or foe, answered the old man. He sat and thought as the Wind tormented him, Always always Two ActsHello and Goodbye! No! the old man cried, Not so! And by saying thus he knew it had not been. Oh? arched the wind with a dry cough, indeed? They parted ways, enemies; for the West Wind does not know love Nor does the old man know the ways of the Wind. Two Acts, it whispers still, Hello and Goodbye The old man does not listen, For he knows that it is not so. Emma Anne Lane (12)
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Just How Much Does He Care?

When you wake in the morning, Do you know why its so adorning? How the colors of the earth, Was first given birth, Do you remember Gods grace, And how our lives were laced, With continued blessings, And surprising happenings? It was God, who put us together, Including space, light and the weather, The only one who never forgets, When we do wrong He never regrets,
Before you and I were even born, He snuck U in the name of his son, Hed like to know what you would do today, If you would just take the time to pray. Jamie Ooi (9)
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Our Nature
Till death we live, This life we strive, And in life we find That peace and love Do not abide. We are blind and will not cease To make our war on peace. Give others pains, All for our own gain, Hatred and greed rule. We are truly cruel. Is all hope lost? When we ignore the cross, Only by the greatest sacrifice May we gain perfect life.
Matthew Shafer (9)
Rapture from the Raven

I gazed at the ominous bust, Now overshadowed with the dark form of the Raven above the door. 44 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
The ominous refrain, with numbing pain, did echo throughout my soul; The thought that my life was all reverberated harshly throughout my core; The weight of these oppressive thoughts I weakly bore.
My lifes tenure was at its end; My wearied head would soon lower into the darkness I deplore; A desperate cry for meaning rose from within. My sleepless eyes descried a weathered tome the understanding of which I long ago forswore; Seizing up this book of antiquity, I undertook a desperate chore.
Out of the pitted caverns of my mind came a strange recalling of hope; Through the Old and the New my mind began to pour In wonder, My darting eyes soon found what I had recalled before: A message that spoke of Forevermore.
A Hope of eternity penetrated my dark depths; Seeing what must be done, I cried to the One who I had dismissed as simply lore. Admitting myself as a creature of sin, I asked to remove this foul Raven within.
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My mournful words were followed by a sudden knocking at the door . . . Seeing resemblance to the event just had, I sauntered to it with sullen prospect of something more.
To my great relief and surprise, not a shadow was seen by my solemn eyes. Then, with a sudden gust, a white flash flitted upon the bust, atop the shining door. It deposed the black Raven from his high perch, who fell as from a birch. I looked and saw: the radiant white formed a dove of war. Into my heart, His kindly gaze now bore.
My voice a tremor, issuing forth from the pit of my mouth, I beseeched the dove if He be my answer. Opening its softly curved beak, its clear voice began to speak: I have come to seal what you were granted in your appeal, He began to assure. Orphan you were, now son you are, softly whispering, Forevermore.
My eyes dropping to where the Raven lay, I put forth my doubt of ever again seeing Eleanor. Doth this dark menace speak any word of truth? The doves reply, Only that that resonates in your fallen core.
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Yet, fear not, for with the Grace of my Master, I come to restore. Now understanding the profound word of this radiant bird, I remembered the Word I had always chosen to ignore; I realized my hope had come whilst my heart became numb. Yet I knew the shadow of the Raven must go before I could be free of the emptiness I would no longer endure.
Casting my eyes upward to the Bringer of Peace, I begged of Him to remove the dark bird I did deplore. With a fearsome spreading of its wings, the dove put the Raven to flight. As the carrion devil fled my abode, I felt my spirit soar. And now I am safe, said I. Then came the refrain, Forevermore. Joel Shafer
The Chains of Darkness

The chains held me back, Weight of them heavy on my wrists. I can hear the screams of others behind me. I slowly weaken, But I cannot give up now. I can see the light near,
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But yet so far away. I struggle to break free from these chains That are holding me back from freedom, Freedom that I long for. The sound of a whip comes from behind, Unexpected pain came quick. I yelled out in pain! It feels of a thousand nails pounding into my body, into my soul. It was too much. I fell Into darkness. Not knowing when or what my body will hit. It felt as if I would never land, A darkness without end. Hard, cold, sharp rocks suddenly came Hitting them hard, Pain swallows my body up like water. I feel a dark, heavy, shadow lay upon me, But yet nothing was there. The light in front starts to fade. I feel as if I cannot make it. Then darkness envelops me. Consuming everything I am, Making me something I'm not. The pressure becomes too much I slowly begin to die. A cold, long, lonely death.
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I hear death, sorrow, guilt, shame ringing in my ears. I wished it would go away! I call out for freedom, For salvation, For a savior! But nothing, Just pain. Tears envelop my eyes. I feel alone, I dont know what to do. Suddenly silence. The screams fade, My tears become dry, I feel peace. The light ahead becomes brighter. I see a man standing. Not a man in darkness, But a man who is golden. A brighter gold then anything I have seen before. I suddenly feel the strength I need, The strength to break free of the chains. I stand up, Ignoring the pain I run to the light. I run to the man, The man who is golden. I run harder than I have before, He embraces me with open arms.
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His arms surround me, Making me warm. I wished to never let go, To stay in that embrace of love. I felt safe. Worried that I would fall back into darkness, I look back. To my relief, the darkness slowly disappears. Then I look at the man, The tall, golden man. He smiled, A smile that filled me with a warm happiness. I then took the hand he held out and looked ahead, To the light And he led me to safety. Away from the darkness that I don't need to fear anymore, For I have Him Katie Stevens (12)
Winners Glory
Beep! Beep! The whistle blows The crowd explodes For victory is the final rose.
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All blood sweat tears have been for cheers Leaving without any fear.
A medal is placed across the neck In memory of their splendid success And forever they remember That they were a team member Of that winning team, in that December.
The noise has ceased All from the west to eat A big celebration of a fattening feast. Must they never forget, That they all played their best And until next year, theyll be a threat. Juliet Suen (9)
Shouts of Silence
Hush, hark! The larks sing The rhythm of the wind chimes ring The patter of soft paws run The whisper of autumn beneath the sun 51 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Hear! The splashing of water The children laughing and girls chatter The song of joyful praise And the hymn of thankful days
But many a time, life consists Not of cheerful craze or glorious feasts Often we race through the whirlwind of life Oblivious to the worlds crying strife
Hush, listen to the wailing babe She hasn't had a meal for days The man shedding tears ruined by his loved one The woman in rags cradling her dead son
Sometimes all it takes is just an ear To listen to a heartcry's deepest tear To step down from the hype of the crowned And to share the burden of one sad frown
So open my ears to the things unheard That I may be a blessing to those suffered For if I may save a life by care sincere Then my life would be worthwhile here Charissa Tan (12)
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Strangers, Again
Once lost in a multitude of unfamiliar faces, Strangers, walking at disconnected paces, Now bonded together, running in harmony, To love and be loved, so unconditionally.
Half of my heart wants to leave the nest, Explore every corner, from the east to the west, Leave the past, the mistakes, the scars, Start over again, with a clear sky of stars.
To run the diving board like one without care, Spreading your wings, ready to trust the air, Often it takes the risk of suffocating defeat To remember the taste of air, in your lungs so sweet.
The other half of my heart fears of leaving behind Relationships built and memories entwined, Mistakes forgiven and scars healed, Love expressed and closed hearts unsealed.
But as spring flowers bud and autumn leaves fall There always comes a time to bid farewell, As an aged breathes his last, a new life will be borne, As the night passes, soon will come the break of dawn. 53 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Theres always this great interchange of state To try new things, to let go of the old estate, But the constellations of the sky will stay the same, So too, my heart, with you will remain.
Amidst the crowded multitude years past, If paths cross and I see your face, at last, I pray to find our friendship retained, And us not strangers, once again. Charissa Tan (12)
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Inspiration
For a spell I had no inspiration ... Not the sun, that brought every morning, Not the stars, that twinkle every clear night, Not the questions of life, Nor the answers through time...
Not the dispute of religion, Not even the beauty of nature, Not so much as light of day, Or the darkness of night...
The battle between good and evil, Was not enough Not the victory already had, Nor the glory to come...
I had no inspiration... . . . Then I thought of you . . . Ben Unruh (12)
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Addiction
Stand on the edge Of a paper-cut, The crevice of a books jagged Leaf Which slid too quickly Across the memory, Forever leaving a scar, A reminder of the feeling Of that fleeting inspiration That swiftly moves on. It crackles, Loudly, Vexing the senses, Maddening the sanity Like the stiff, Dry-bone leaves of Winter and Fall, Trampled beneath the feet Of a writer, A dreamer, A lyric-tamer, Who thinks of nothing but The paper-cut The paper-cut,
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The paper-cut of the mind, That aching, Biting, Gnawing longing To pick up a quill or pen And bleed ink Across the Page.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
That Single Tear

Standing oer her Watching feelings turn her Waywardgoing towards, Broken beaten paths Far, O far from him
Standing streaming sorrow Draining dry the empty eye Lost the glue that held them to Breathing broken borrowed breaths
Lost his path, lost in wrath Falling through, lost anew What to do, for him whose heart Beats, beats like a crystal chandelier 58 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Crashing to the ground, so far below Into a billion trillion tiny stars Each and all, shedding a single tear Ben Unruh (12)
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Human nature does not suffice, The two innate sides that breathe, One contained and one maintained.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Have you met your other side? One kills, jeers, and interferes, One smiles, laughs, and reconciles.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Who are you tonight? Jennifer Yook (9)
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Passing Through
Just passing through, meandering along, trudging down the wearisome path that stretches before the bare feet. Does the well-beaten sand flutter out of the seconds, the minutes, the hours of countless days, only here to make the hourglass turn? Is it stone, un-moving and stubborn to the last, a tree with deep, dark roots in the ground. Perhaps only those who have
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already walked their life's road can say. But the living can't fathom what the dead have seen, for the departed never speak of their travels.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
Piano String
The treble of a piano strings Tension, Slowly stretching Out, Unwinding strand By strand By Strand. Let it snap, Break, Thunder to the
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Ground, A crashing cacophony Against our ears. The broken music, Once called a dream, Cast away, Into the night, Thrown off the ledge Of a Song.
Sarah Uzzle (12)
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SHORT STORIES
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A Death in the Family

The sharp backhanded slap spun me around and sent me stumbling back into the wall, cracking my head painfully. I scrambled away, back from my father. His face was red and I knew for a fact he was drunk right now, why else would a dad slap his sixteen year old daughter? My cheek burned red and throbbed painfully as I scuttled away from him.
William! Mom called from the other side of the room as she crossed her arms. She held her head high and her back was stiff but I could see she was trembling. Run she mouthed to me as my father turned on her like an angry bull. And I ran straight for the door and down the steps. I nearly crashed into Nate on my way out but just managed to avoid him and skid to a halt. He caught me around the shoulders looking worried. All it took was one word to make his hazel eyes go wide, Dad. He nodded and gave me a little shove to keep running and headed towards the house with a determined look on his calm face. I was no coward but I knew better than to stick around for this. I just kept running out into the forest. I tripped over a branch and went down, landing on my elbows. I sat up slowly, cheek pounding and examined my elbows. They were scraped up but not bleeding, and my
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cheek I'll bet has a bright red mark. I could feel a little bit of blood where some skin had been torn away too. I bit my lip and blinked back tears, I was a big girl now and didn't have to cry. Instead I stood up and changed directions and kept moving steadily through the forest ignoring my throbbing cheek and scraped elbows. The sound of chopping grew louder the further I went. James would be working today and so that was where I headed. I skirted around the peacekeepers suppressing an involuntary shudder and flitted through the trees. I spotted James and paused, leaning against a tree to watch him at work, a tiny sliver of a smile on my lips. I still thought he was the most handsome person ever. He had his grey eyes shaded because of the wood chips that skittered off everywhere with each swing. I'm a little ashamed to admit how much I liked watching him work, but I'm only human.
"James?" I called softly as a more violent throb brought me back to the present. He paused and glanced towards where I was with an odd look on his face. He wouldn't be able to see me and my call had been soft, it would have been hard to hear over the sound of chopping. "Carie?" He asked curiously, cocking his head a little bit. I cleared my throat and spoke up after swallowing hard "Ya, over here."
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James set his ax down and walked over to me with a curious expression. "Hey what's up?" he asked with a small smile. "I just need a little company for a bit." I replied softly trying to keep my usual upbeat tone. James saw through my pathetic attempt at a chipper tone easily, of course. "Come on Carie, what's wrong?" He asked with a little sigh putting an arm around my shoulders to take us into the woods away from the other people. He'd probably get into trouble for leaving his job right now but I really needed someone to be with for a little bit. I sniffed slightly and instead of answering I stopped and placed his hand against my cheek so he could feel the blood and the throbbing. "Who did this?" he asked, voice hard though his calloused palm against my cheek was gentle. "I fell..." I muttered softly. It was my normal excuse for these occurrences though I'm sure James saw through them but my pride kept me from saying what was really going on. That and I know deep down, somehow I still loved my father. I remembered when he used to be there for me and we'd had fun together. I remember those days and try hope he'll change someday...
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James just nodded instead of pushing me for an answer. We'd gotten into a few fights over this before but I always refused to tell no matter what he said. Finally he'd given up on it and I was grateful for that. James just pulled me into a hug as I pressed my hands against me face, screwing my eyes up to keep back the tears. I still hate crying, I always have. But my shoulders shook a little bit with the emotion. I'd already cried over my dad to many times, and I wasn't going to right now. I just stayed in James' embrace enjoying the warmth from his body heat till I relaxed again and pulled away with a sad smile.
"Thanks." I murmured to him softly wishing I could have just stayed wrapped up like that but as I was constantly reminding myself we were best friends and nothing more. 67 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
"You're welcome, is your cheek okay?" James asked touching my cheek again with his fingertips. I nodded a bit, the throbbing was starting to fade and I could no longer feel the blood running down my face. "Ya I think so. Would you walk home with me? I don't want to go alone..." "Of course I will Carie, come on." He replied beginning to walk with me again back towards my house this time. We walked together in silence just listening to the twittering of birds and the sounds of the forest. When you're best friends there's not such a need for idle chatter to fill the silence, all you need is companionship.
We made our way out of the forest and across the road to my house. Everything was silent, deathly so it seemed to me as we walked. We reached my house and the door opened for me to see my father being escorted out by two peace keepers. I shifted away from them instinctively, closer to James watching them silently as they passed.
There was blood running down one side of my father's head and it looked like he had been clubbed and knocked out for a few moments. The peace keepers as always were cold and silent keeping a tight grip on my father's arms as they marched him grimly down the road. "James you'd better go home." I said firmly trying not to let my voice tremble. I bit my lip and looked at him, I didn't want
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him to see the wreckage I was sure lay just through the door frame. "No I'm staying with you Carie." he replied stubbornly. "Go back James. You can't stay." I replied in a more confident voice giving him a gentle shove in the other direction. He took a step back but still looked reluctant to leave so I pushed him again a little harder this time though still very gentle. "Leave." He frowned at me and turned on his heel and left, back stiff. I'm sure I upset James but I didn't want him to know what was going on, my pride kept me from it. That's really all I have left in the world right now and I'm determined to keep it intact. As soon as he was around the corner I tore up the steps and through the door only to stop open-mouthed in the middle of our small living room. Everything was a mess, things were splintered and broken, it looked like a feather pillow had ripped open and the white feathers were everywhere. In the center of the room was a body covered by a white sheet and my twin kneeling next to it.
My lower lip trembled as I walked slowly to where my twin knelt and stopped staring at the bright white sheet. Nate looked up at me and I could see his face was glistening with tears, but it was bruised as well and there was a cut on his forehead. He was in far worse shape than I was.
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"He killed her." Nate whispered standing up shakily. His voice turned hard and hateful. "He killed mom." I was numb with shock and horror at the raw feeling that ripped through my chest. Mom was dead! She was gone from this life. It didn't seem like it could be real at all. Mom couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. The raw pain sent my body into trembled and tears spilled down my cheek as I shook my head with disbelief.
"No." I whispered quietly stepping into my twin's outstretched arms. Mom was dead, but what hurt the worst was that dad had killed her. I sobbed into my twin's shoulder hugging him tight. Nate was all the family I had left now, my father I would disown. He meant nothing to me now. All those fun times could never override what he had just done, they couldn't cover it up. The small amount of good could never be enough to cover over all the bad things he did.
It would just be me and Nate now, and we would survive on our own! We would make and I knew James would be there to help us out whenever we needed it. I was determined not to waste what my mom had given Nate and I. We would go on but I can guarantee we would never be the same. Anonymous
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Monoculture
Trees cant feel! I hear you cry. So you grab a trunk and start to climb. Or you take a chainsaw to my side. You dont care if I fall over, or if you step on me. Im just an inanimate object to you, nothing more. I am no good to you if I do not bear fruit, or if I cannot make rubber. I am no good to you if I am in the way of some construction. Navethat is what people are. Not realizing that by ridding themselves of me, replacing me with more of them, they arent really helping anybody. But money speaks louder than trees. And so Im left here in my silence.
Its a hard life in this neck of the woods, being treated the way I am. Theres so little left anymore many have been forced into the dreaded palm plantations including myself. I know Im not welcome to wander here, but I have no choice. You did not give me one. You simply burnt down my only home in favor of this. This nothingness, row after row of palms. An ugly plant, really. But its worth more to you than anything I could do, anything I could be. Im not shy. Im just wary of what I know is my own death.
Everyone fears me. I do not understand. I cannot help what I am that I have dark scales and unblinking eyes. That I am venomous. I never asked for this life; I just took what I was given, and now I have to make the best of it. Forever, I am to be judged based on what I am, not who I am. You may not know it when you are wandering through this sterile forest, but I can hear you. And I understand every word you say. So 71 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
hypocritical, you humans are. You complain of being judged by race or age or religion, but you are not afraid to judge me. Why is that? Are you so ignorant in your terror? I really should just go by the book, do everything the way you say I do; get you out of this place that was never really yours to begin with. Valued. But never for who you are. Always for what you have. To anybody else what I have is a useless piece of cartilage, but to a human, it is worth more than gold. Ridiculous; absolutely insane. And you call yourselves the smartest creatures to ever grace the earth with your presence. I used to have so many kin, thousands upon thousands! Now, I am lucky if I see one of my kind. But everywhere I look, I see traces of you. Footprints here, traps there. I am more careful than most, but that does not mean I am invincible. One of these days, I will fall for one of your clever traps, and I will die. Maybe, when I am dead, and all the kind is gone, you will be sorry. Maybebut I doubt it.
Im sorry Im an inconvenience to you. I didnt realize that living wasnt a priority in your book. I kill so I can survive. You kill because it is fun. There is a vast difference. But you are stupid in your killing; you enjoy it far too much. You overlook innocent details, and when the tide suddenly turns against you, it is everyone elses fault. Sometimes I would like to try killing you the way you killed my mother. Or capturing you the way you captured my first cubs. But I dont think youd like that too much. Ive heard that some of my kind has tried itand every single one I heard go down with the shot of a gun. Too dangerous, are we? I dont think you realize how bad your own medicine tastes. 72 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
I can blend in with my surroundings, unlike you. You dont like me for that, I suppose. Being able to hide myself, its not advantageous for you. Especially if you step on me. I mean, I really do try to avoid you. Its not like I cant sense you coming. Try to walk quietly; then, maybe, everything that is forced to survive in this dead world wont run away, and you can see the truth of what you did in their eyes. That is, if you do look at their eyes and see truth. You probably only look at their skin, or their teeth, and think of how much money you could make. This greed, its unsustainable. Be careful where you tread.
Face to face. Palm to palm. Were so similar. Yet so different. You refuse to see what is the same, only to highlight what makes us different. I feel just as much as you do. And when you look at me like that, like Im something to be owned, and not something to be loved. It breaks my heart. But then I see what youve done to my home, I realize that that is normal for you. That I should not expect love from a fellow creature, only destruction. And when love comes, I guess Ill cherish it all the more, because thats all I have left now. No thanks to you.
Camouflage seems kind of pointless in this world youve created. So straight, upright. My clouded coat is for endless brush, of every color and of every shade. Notthis. I dont know what to make of it, really. A measured space between each tree. Roads at intervals, workers scheduled only for certain times of the day. If something goes wrong, you dont know what to do. You are so comfortable with routine. All symmetrical and orderly. Its almost amusing. Planting these 73 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
trees, though, isnt helping the environment. This is making it just like every other place on earth youve created. Singing. I love to sing. Im sure you love to hear me sing. Or at least, the ones who came in the boats with the big cameras and dreamy eyes did. I dont see them anymore; all I see are palms. As far as the eye can see. Nothing else. Simply palms. And the new people here? Theyre not nearly as friendly. Why cant you ever seem to agree on anything? Always fighting about this or that. Always ruining, then feeling remorse. But you cant fix what youve destroyed like you can fix a table or a chair. Its not that simple, what you messed with. My calls, as they echo through the empty forest, seem to haunt you now more than ever. Ill hope it stays that way long after I am no longer here. Jackie Ashkin (10)
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Life as It Is
Every day feels the same: same posture, same smile, and seemingly the same crowd. The texture of my hands, face, lips, and even eyes reflects the light from the spotlights that surround me. Well, sometimes I do change my posture but against my will. She enters my window every other day, strips the clothes off me, making me embarrassed for at least five to ten minutes. I have to tell you, I never get used to standing there stark naked. Then she would finally stuff my legs into another pair of jeans or shorts, and if my luck hangs on to me, I can get a T-shirt and a jacket. My feet though always feel empty because the shop does not sell any shoes. If you come to think of it, it looks pretty dumb to wear a perfect outfit without any shoes. Sometimes she twists my joints quite carefully, putting me in a position she likes. But other days she mangles my arms and legs with such force, that I know for sure that she has had a fight with her infantile boyfriend.
Well, I wasnt the only one who was sitting in a certain position on the window. There were quite a lot of same mes with me. They have the same eye color, the same facial expression and even the same shape of nose as I do! Its rather quite unusual to stay in a place where there are a lot of things that look just like you. Since they were there, I tried to talk to them but they didnt seem to hear me. There wasnt any reply from them. I figured that I was the only dummy who could think and see. And that was quite 75 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
something, very extraordinary and unusual. But at the same time, I felt I was specially made. Man, that feels good! The moment of pleasure usually doesnt last long. Its mostly because I have to stand inside a window for the rest of my life until its time to be recycled. Its really scary to think that I dont have a lot of time left in my life. I try to enjoy every minute of it, I really do, but it doesnt look like its working that much. As you may have guessed, today was as any normal day. Well, that was what I thought it would be. I stupidly glared at the people walking around. I saw a shopaholic with hundreds of bags on each hand, smiling happily as she walked past my window. Shes always like that; I got used to it. And, of course, theres the woman who comes to the window of our store and goes back without buying anything. I guessed she was a cheapskate or just plain poor. It didnt really matter anyway. I also saw the teenage kids, about sixteen or seventeen years old, going to a movie with their dates. I felt quite jealous looking at young people dating while I get to be a stupid dummy. It just wasnt fair I got used to the pain somehow.
Can you imagine what I can see, when standing in the window, not even blinking my eyes? Hundreds of little crimes! They dont even know that I can actually see things. Its rather quite ironic if you come to think of it. Pickpocketing and shoplifting happens on a regular basis, but people dont even notice these crimes. But Im just a dummy who cant even talk. The only thing I can do is just sit there and watch it happen. This is always uncomfortable when you cant tell something that you desperately want to say. Wouldnt it drive you insane? It certainly does to m.
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Steven Kwon (10)
An excerpt from Diary of a Dragon Ryder:

The two doors were pushed open by our leader and we all filled in quietly afraid of what we would find and yet filled with anticipation and excitement. The room was filled with a gentle humming noise and there were at least fifty eggs if not more of all different colors nestled carefully in cloth on pedestals all through the room. It seemed almost to elaborate and awesome to be real, so dramatic! But it was, and the inexplicable joy and awe I felt welled up as I set eyes on the room before me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in and just stared at the glittering eggs. I'm certain the look on my face was totally ridiculous.
Sir Carlyle chuckled at all of us and I'm sure he agreed with my thought about the looks on our faces. He was probably used to this, but I didn't know that I could ever get used to something like this. It was to astounding! "Listen up now boys." Sir Carlyle called to us and we all turned instantly to him to listen to what he had to say. My fingers itched to lay a hand on one of the gleaming eggs to find out which one was mine to take care of until it hatched. Somewhere out there was an egg with a dragonlett inside that would bond with me. I was so excited! 77 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
"Now one of these eggs will choose you, trust me you'll know which one it is when you find it. If one doesn't choose, well I guess you're out of luck. Now be very careful with the eggs, while they won't break if you do drop them it's just better to keep the eggs as safe as possible. And please no screaming if you can help it. Now off you go." The boys and I paused for a moment just to take in the sight and then one by one we all began to move through the room stopping near eggs not quite sure what was supposed to happen or how we would know which one was meant for
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us.
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I passed between the nestled eggs wondering how I would know; I paused near a dark green egg and then moved on threading my way through the room. I glanced around myself feeling worried once again that none of these eggs were right for me and then I saw it. The egg was a glorious silver color that seemed to shine in the soft light. Darker grey-blue veins crossed the egg making it look almost like ice. I walked towards it, my feet seeming to move of their own will and stopped in front of the bright egg. Slowly, almost afraid to touch it, I reached out. The egg seemed to pulse as my fingertips slid over it until my whole palm rested over the cool shell. I could feel jolts of power tingling through my arm and down through me. I let my eyes drift shut and settled my other hand over the egg as well and everything seemed to fade away.
I'm not sure if this was a dream or not but here's what happened when my eyes slid shut. Blinding white light covered me and as it began to fade I stepped forward out of the white light. I stepped out into bright green grass on the top of a hill with an amazing view of the valley. Ahead of me I could see a man with a pure white dragonlett sitting on his shoulder.
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I felt extra weight sitting on my shoulders and looked down at myself. I was no longer dressed in my simple breeches and loose brown shirt. Now I had on silver plated armor, not full armor but my shoulders, arms, and chest were all protected. I felt a little top heavy but at the same time it felt natural. My hair was also grown out long and done up in a braid down my back. There was a short sword slung over my shoulder and another resting at my hip. It was the strangest thing because it felt perfectly natural even though I knew I had never worn armor before and I had never had a sword either. I still had my silver egg in my arms though and that was comforting.
Once I was over the initial shock of wearing armor and finding myself in this strange place I looked around. There was the man, still just standing staring down the valley, and nearby was a white tree with bright red flowers in full bloom. I blinked and walked forward slowly wondering what on earth was going on here. What was this place and why was I here? I stopped behind him and waited for a few moments to see if he would do anything.
"Hello?" I asked in a quiet voice when nothing happened. "Isn't the view lovely from here?" He asked me as he turned around to face me. My first impression of the man was that he was nothing special, just an ordinary person like me. And yet he radiated power and authority. When I met his eyes, oh he had the most amazing eyes! I can't even begin to describe it. Just try to imagine the most amazing and beautiful thing you've ever seen... and then multiply it by one thousand... and you still wouldn't even be close. The color of his eyes was so vivid and bright, a blueish-green color that I felt I had 81 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
never even seen before. His eyes showed compassion and yet they were fierce and protective at the same time. I would have stayed there, standing open mouthed just enraptured for goodness knows how long. "Welcome Nicoli." His voice was a light tenor and yet it had a rich tone, it started me and I looked away blushing at my rudeness. What was going through my mind though was how on earth does this man know my name!? He chuckled lightly at me and smiled. "We've met before Nicoli, you know me. It has been some time since we've spoken though. You'll remember me in the time to come. My Father is pleased with you Nicoli and has set a great path before you, though the journey will not be easy. You will do great things in life Nicoli if you trust in Him." I stared at the man totally confused, who on earth was he? What was he talking about; I had never met him much less spoken to him! His pure white dragon fluttered over and landed lightly on my egg, wings spread out for balance. The egg let out a deep thrum and the white dragonlett cocked its head and stared up at me with its glittering pale green eyes. I stared back at it not at all sure what was going on here, in fact (though I never admit this anywhere but the safety of my journal) I was downright scared! This was seriously frightening me. The white dragonlett stayed there for a few moments longer
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staring at me and then snorted and flew back to his companion, setting on the man's shoulder. "I believe, Nicoli, it is time for you to depart from here now. Take care of yourself; trust in my Father to guide you." Ciera Nash (10)
Half a Life-I awoke; an explosion of light shattered my vision; I felt painpain like no other. Every fibre in my body screamed; the pain, violent and vengeful, ripped and tore at my flesh; my whole being was racked by a fervent rush of emotions. I threw my head back, gasping for air, and spluttered a desperate cry, but only spittle escaped my mouth; my screams lay lost in the depths of my throat.
Hes awake. I writhed. My whole body shuddered and I tried to focus my eyes on my surroundings, but to no availeverything was a blurred, blinding force of searing light. Hello? Where was I? My breaths-- now nothing but feeble exertions--seemed to wisp away into nothing. I fumbled, pushed, pulled, kicked, tossed and turned; I was pinned to a 83 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
bed with heavy covers suffocating me on all sides. I felt trapped, like an animal stuck in a cage: alone, confused and desperate. Hello? Hello? Hello, can you hear me? Still clawing at the covers, I again tried to scream. I wrenched my mouth open and bared my teeth-wolf-like, the sinews of my neck standing taut and strained, my head shaking violently. Yet, again, the dry walls of my mouth, sticky and arid, let not me scream. Get the Doctor! A sharp violent stab suddenly penetrated my right arm. There, that should sort him out, growled a deep sonorous voice. After several seconds my violent seething began to lessen and, at last, my eyes began to focus on that lying around me. Above me, a mans face stared. The man didnt look particularly unkind, but nor he did he look the most kindred of spirits. He looked at me, his eyes set under bushy eyebrows, with a look of professional concern rolling his face into an almost comical picture of pity.
Hmm, how are we feeling now? Boomed the man as his eyes surveyed my well-being. I grunted. 84 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
Well-enough, I see, said he, narrowing his eyes. Do you have any questions? Im Dr. Jones; I can help you. The same old Doctor with the same old fake smile, thought I, and thus shut my eyes, being of the belief that the Doctor would leave me be. The Doctor cleared his throat, and I heard his footsteps retreat into the distance. Wait! I shouted, a sudden horror flooding my whole body. His heavy thudding footsteps grew nearer. My family? whispered I. For a second he just stood, as if in deep contemplation. And then, looking past me and shaking his head, replied, Gone. His face crumpled as he told me, and he whispered under his breath Im so, so sorry. For a moment I just stared back at him: incredulous. Gone? My family? I said. My children? The Doctor just looked at me, sighed and shook his head. My house? I pleaded. Gone replied he. My job... my life? 85 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
His eyes suddenly narrowed, and for a second he looked confused. Wait, said he. You dont understand, do you? You dont know what you did! Where is my family, where is my life? cried I, ignoring his question, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He fixed his eyes on me, a look of hate and disgust suddenly consuming his features. Gone.Gone, gone, gone! He was shouting now, a ferocious anger ripping at his once forced pleasant and amiable features. Ittheyeverythingis all gone! I looked back at him, shocked by the sudden outburst. You just dont understand, do you? said he, a look of outright revulsion curdling his features. But my life? I replied. What about my life, my family, my possessions? You never had a life, sneered he. You had dreams, oh yes, you had dreams, the most fantastic and wonderful dreams, dreams, in many ways, more incredible than those of the thousands of people lying beside you. But you were lazy; you never did anything with your life! With each word he spoke, his face turned a darker, more painful, shade of red. I didnt know what to say; I racked my brain; what had I done with my life? In all honesty, I couldnt remember doing anything memorable or anything to be proud of. 86 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
As if reading my thoughts, he looked aside and muttered, Of course you dont remember anything! What have you done thats memorable? His face flew around to look at me, and he began laughinga harsh, coarse laughter that never reached his eyes. A deep bitter remorse began to froth in the pit of my stomach, my lips quivered, and my eyes began to glaze over. What had I done? I let out a long, pitiful moan; my life seemed to play before my eyes, every missed opportunity, every wasted hour, each played before me as if I were watching a sick funeral march. I could bear it no more. I wrenched my mind from my thoughts, and looked helplessly at the man before me.
The Doctor was staring back at me. He was no longer smiling, but nor did he seem angry; his countenance was thoughtful. I took a deep breath. But Ive already lived half my life; what have I left to live? As soon as I said this, the Doctors eyebrows lifted and he allowed himself a chuckle. No. No, no, no. You havent lived at all! His eyes twinkled and he grabbed my arm; I could feel his hand trembling excitedly as he said these words: Life isnt about how many years you live, he paused, life is about how you spend the years you live. The Doctor stood up, held my gaze for a couple of seconds, smiled--an honest smile--and then walked away. Karl Reeves (12) 87 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
School
I woke up nervous but excited. It was my first day at this school, well-known as the best school in this whole town. I put on my new school uniform. A white blouse and a pleated skirt neatly fit me, and for once my Mom didnt have to hear a regular complaint about an ugly school uniform 88 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
that I used to wear before. I jumped on my new bicycle, said goodbye to my Mom and Sparky, my favorite setter, and rolled away. The morning was bright and calm, and all I thought about was the new school, new friends, and the fun I was going to have with them. The closer I got, the harder my heart was throbbing in my chest. The school building was surrounded by a beautiful green garden. Large trees and colorful flowers were dancing in the wind. The sky was clear blue, and clouds were fluffy white like cotton. All the students were sitting on benches, chatting with excitement. Everyone seemed to be friendly. Most of the students were hard-working pupils with straight As. The school appeared too perfect for me. The large school yard was slowly getting crowded with chattering students who exchanged the latest news, rumors, and gossips. The kids stood in small groups: some of them giggling, the others leafing through their textbooks in an attempt to memorize the facts they were supposed to learn at home. Most of the girls were proudly displaying their latest fashionable shoes, bags, and skirts and blouses while the boys kept struggling in the toughest competition of trying to determine who had the most expensive electronic gadget. I chained my bicycle and tried to look confident but friendly. After walking through the school yard for a few minutes, I realized that the place was somewhat different from what I had expected. Instead of smiling and trying to look friendly, they were staring at me as if I was wearing my uniform the other way round or was their sworn enemy. My heart sank. I felt that all my dreams about the new school were to remain as dreams, and I would have to see the same arrogance and pretence that I ran away from when I decided to change the school. The hostility in the eyes of the students
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made me feel miserable and lonely. The tingling of the tears that were about to well into my eyes was getting stronger with every step I took. I rushed to the building, desperately trying to calm down. I kept walking through the empty hallway alone. The bell rang and I reluctantly went to my first class. Again, the students, my classmates, just stared at me. There were a few seats left, but whenever I tried to sit, they wouldnt let me. Their eyes told me, Dont you even think about it! I finally found an empty seat that nobody seemed to claim, but it was so far at the back of the class that I could hardly see the teachers face. The worse thing was that there was absolutely no one I could talk to or had a bit of support from to get through this miserable day somehow. I kept glancing at my watch as if I could speed up those seemingly interminable classes and get back home. That afternoon, I finished my homework really fast like a machine and decided to play Frisbee with Sparky. I wanted to erase from my memory everything that had happened this morning. The kids rejection was so powerful that it filled me with such disappointment that I couldnt even remember what I learned during the lessons. As I was playing with my dog in my own little garden at the back of my large house, I felt like someone was stalking me or staring at me. It appeared that the entire town pretended to be friendly only to prove otherwise. The next day, I decided to give it another try. I was riding my bicycle and praying that everything would be different from yesterday. I tried to be confident again. And God did answer my prayer right away. Everybody was looking at me nicely and smiled at me. I was confused about their behavior. In the classroom, some of them even greeted me in
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such a friendly way. A pretty looking girl, Fabienne, who had acted as a real snob yesterday, walked across the classroom and handed me an invitation card to her birthday. I knew that something was not quite right. They were so different from yesterday. I just couldnt believe it. Just as I started to think that the kids had accepted me, Fabienne said, When you come to my birthday party, please bring your dog to my house! It is going to be fun! I gasped. Thats who was staring at me and my great house yesterday while I was playing with Sparky! She had told everybody that my family was very rich. My big secret was out. I felt devastated and extremely angry because they liked me because I was rich, not because they saw a new friend in me. I was so disappointed. I could not study or go to this frustrating, miserable, and pretentious school. I ran out of the classroom and sprinted straight home. I couldnt figure out how I was going to explain to my Mom why I was back from school so early. I had to go back. That day, I told my parents about everything. We all decided that I should try another school where the kids were from simple families. I said goodbye to my fresh, colorful, and beautiful garden and my comfortable room which was as big as the large baseball field. I said to my dog, You are lucky that you dont have any heart-breaking problems. I sighed and sat down for a while, thinking of why I had even tried to come to this school. I ended up crying, looking out the window with sorrow. Kelly Shim (10)
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Dreaming
Alithel awoke with a start as she fell out of her large four poster bed. She landed on the floor with a groan of pain; shed been having a nightmare again. Ali had been having the same recurring nightmare for the past five days. She would find herself standing in her bedroom, and nothing was amiss. She would walk over to her mirror and stare into it and the reflection of her room would change, and not just her room but Alis reflection would change too. She would become a mass of darkness in the middle of a blank red page out of which two eyes would stare. One was green and the other was blue. Then the two eyes would separate into two people but the outline and features would be shadowy. Each had a sword in handthat much was clear, and they would begin to duel each other. Then Ali would wake up just before she saw who won. Ali moved from her position on her hands and knees to a sitting position. She looked around her room to reassure herself everything was still there, and it was just as she had left it last night when she went to bed. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Stupid nightmare! she muttered as she stood and glanced at her bed. Her covers were strewn all over the place, and twisted up because of her tossing and turning. She sighed and tried to straighten up her covers but then gave up after a few minutes. The maids would get it. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress made of blue silk that matched her eyes. She slipped it on and then walked over to her mirror. She looked in the mirror every morning so she could face her fears. She washed her face, toweled it dry, and
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then looked up into the mirror. She stared for a second and then screamed. A maid came running into the room to see what was wrong. Ali didnt scream about nothing, as her sister did. Whats wrong, miss? the maid asked as she burst into the room. Ali looked away; she didnt want anyone to see. Nothing, its nothing, go away, Callie, Ali told her maid in a low voice that meant dont argue with me. The maid curtsied and left the room without a backward glance. It was best not to argue with Ali when she wanted something. Ali turned and stared at her reflection in the mirror. There was no way what she was seeing wasnt real. Unless she was having one of those dreams where you think youve just woken up but youre really still dreaming. This was very similar to her nightmare. Perhaps she was still dreaming then? Yes, that had to be; there was no way this could suddenly be real. It just wasnt possible. Was it? Ali shook her head. If she was dreaming it was time to wake up. Everyone knew that if you pinched yourself in a dream you would wake up. She pinched her arm; nothing happenedwell, nothing except that it hurt. So Im not dreaming then, my eye is sea green, not sea blue now, Ali murmured. This was weird, like really weird. Who heard of someone whose eyes randomly change on their sixteenth birthday? Talk about odd. Okay, um, lets see what to do now? Is there any way I can disguise this? I mean what the heck happened, this is like my dream, and those were my eyes staring at me. What is going on here? Ali asked no one in particular. She
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was taking this pretty well considering her eye had changed colors overnight. Im just going to have to deal with it, I guess, I dont think theres anything I can do. Is there? I could wear ano, I look horrible in those things. Bad idea. I dont think theres anything else I can really do. I guess Im just going to have to grin and bear it, she told herself as she continued to look into the mirror. Ali sighed and picked up her brush, determined to go on as if everything was perfectly normal. Nothing was wrong and nothing had changed. She brushed out her short dark brown hair with quick strokes and left it as it was. She sighed; it was time to go see what her parents thought about her new eye color. Ciera Nash (10)
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NON FICTION
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Coming to Dalat
My footsteps were heavy. I didnt want to leave Korea and all my friends behind; however, the plane heading back to Malaysia was waiting for me. I carried my luggage again and began walking closer to the airport. My eyes were filled with tears and I had to bid farewell to the loved ones. My mom laid her hand on my right hand, held tight, and said We had great times in Korea and unforgettable memories will remain in our hearts. So dont worry, the same thing will happen in Malaysia too. Her words encouraged my broken heart and I was able to fight my fears back. As soon as I got on the airplane and sat on my seat, I was exhausted and immediately my eyes closed.
When I opened my eyes, I couldnt see anything vividly, but I noticed that the plane had already arrived in Malaysia and my parents were getting ready to leave. I rapidly packed my things and got out of the plane. New surroundings, languages, and people caught my eyes. Although I lived in Malaysia for many years, it still felt like a new place to me after I had gone back to Korea for a year. The tour bus brought us to the Paradise Hotel. At first, my family and I didnt realize that the hotel we were staying at was just beside Dalat International School. The next day, we met Mr. Holden and he kindly explained everything as we were looking around the school together. I also met Mr. Tyas. I remember him asking me a question, but since my English wasnt as good as it was before, I couldnt understand him. What an embarrassing moment! Later, we met Mrs. Roberts
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and she informed us that I can start attending school next week. So I began to get ready for school. Finally it was my first day of school in Grade 7. Sarah Hofmaan was my buddy. She was very helpful and kind. She explained to me where the bathroom was, where the cafeteria is, and which room I need to go for each class. I wanted to talk and interact with my other classmates, but I was very shy and I wasnt confident in my English, so I was afraid to make mistakes. My C Block was Band. I met new people and began to learn how to play the trumpet. Asha was one of the classmates. She was a Korean too, so she spoke Korean and made me feel comfortable. From that day onwards, Asha was like my big sister and she always helped me when I needed help.
Asha was one of the most influential people I know; she was very important to me, and had an impact on my life. She comforted me when I was feeling sad, encouraged me when I was feeling down, helped me with my English and other studies when I needed help, went out with me to Gurney when I was feeling lonely; and the best of all, she aided me to have a closer relationship with God. I learned many things from her and I was greatly affected by her attitudes towards me.
This experience persuaded me to do the same thing what Asha did to me to the new students in Dalat. So when I transitioned into high school, I welcomed most of the new students in my grade, and made them feel comfortable. I realized that even a small act of kindness or a word that touches somebodys heart can change ones life. So I should 97 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
be more careful of what I say to the others and keep reminding myself that even a small act of kindness can totally change that persons life. Just even a one word or an act could kill someone or save a persons life. Therefore, I should always think carefully before I say something to my friends, my family, and others . I also need to be careful about how I behave in front of people. Grace Kim (11)
Reverse Psychology: The Versatile Artillery

What if I asked you not to read this essay? I don't think reverse psychology counts here even if you did continue reading (and no, Im not testing you in any sense or way, so please continue wading through the rest of it). But what if I were to tell you that this essay is about to be the most spectacular piece of work you have ever encountered in your academic career? Does this still qualify should it even work as reverse psychology, if you were to throw it in the garbage bin (again, please dont) as you approach the terminal of this sentence? Reverse psychology may be one of the most intriguing, yet frustrating, concepts to master and identify, since the applications are virtually limitless; and, of course, if done right, one may soon find herself (and to 98 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2
maintain political correctness himself but mostly, the former, as a surfeit of scientifically proven studies has shown that the female species is naturally more manipulative) always receiving the newest ten-thousand-dollar bag from her naive, piteous, truly ill-fated oh daddy (and if he were to hesitate she would only have to respond, But daddy, I have the cramps!). Objectivity is almost impossible to be obtained regarding this topic; therefore I will attempt to define the concept of reverse psychology through two interweaving classifications but please allow me to remind you that, as enthralling and insightful as this essay may seem to be, you really dont have to continue (yes, please continue). The two categories are organized according to their separate motives: first, the Please-allow-me-to-take-aretest-or-just-watch-me-cry scenario; and second, the Youreally-dont-have-to-pay-for-me (also my personal favorite) scenario one can certainly see traces of manipulation, persuasion, and self-glorifying tendencies within both of them. First, the Please-allow-me-to-take-a-retest-or-justwatch-me-cry (or watch-me-die if the perpetrator is truly desperate) works rather simply. Imagine yourself still sitting in a dreaded classroom, beside a dreaded friend of yours who has a dreaded personality. She (or he but mostly she) loathes the terrible red ink that carves out the shape of a letter F on the top of her test and she desperately needs a retest because she cant afford to fail this class right before she sends her transcript off to Stanford University; but, unsurprisingly, her teacher wont reconsider his decision. Its as if someone has just turned the lights off in the classroom the world suddenly becomes darker than charcoal, and the
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only candle of hope has just been blown out by her ruthless teacher. She then, as if just witnessing a fifty-ton semi-truck landing on her fuzzy puppy, weeps and moans and bawls. The teacher is now genuinely concerned; he isnt sure what to do or how to react and watching a young damsel in distress (now you understand why I chose a girl) and opting not to help is against his morals. But, as quickly as they have cascaded, the tears disappear, leaving no trace whatsoever on her blushed countenance as she utters these words, Fine, I dont need this grade anymore. She ambles off into the distance as though she has just won the Oscar, while her teacher still tries to ascertain some meaning behind her actions which is also when the fiery guilt finally strikes him hard in his chest, pounding it fervently, burning him from inside out. Fine, Sarah Come meet me tomorrow after school for a retest. Devious? Check. Does it work? Oh, yes. The second case, entitled You-really-dont-have-topay-for-me, may not be so uncommon as you may either be the victim or the perpetrator (you dont have to admit it) at least once in your lifetime. Though it does not always guarantee success, this method certainly has the ability to save you a couple bucks from time to time. Now, imagine your last Starbucks session with an old acquaintance of yours whom you havent met in years. After hours of tedious catching-up and gratuitous small talk, you two finally decide to return to your separate ways; but you realize that you forgot to bring your wallet (or youre just feeling excessively stingy on that particular day); and your innate Chinese tendencies are telling you that your friend would always snatch the bill away before you do, never failing to ask to pay for you. Now youre faced with a moral dilemma, but you have just made the choice as quickly as it emerged.
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You start off by asking to pay for the bill, but he refuses vehemently; and after 10 minutes of futile babbling (but, of course, monumental for you), you finally muster up the courage to give up. And you score. Devious? Certainly. Does it work? Without a doubt. Hopefully, the naive, piteous, ill-fated father would be able to read my essay and garner some common sense back into his pre-frontal cortex before his daughter articulates those lethal words. After all, reverse psychology, though useful at times in attaining ones goals, can be one of the deadliest weapons too; therefore please make sure never to use it with caution. Jeffrey Hsiao (12)
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The Tacit Rules of Love

Disclaimer: this article is written for pure entertainment and informative purposes. It contains no ill intent against the school, the administration, and the student body.
In a high school containing fewer than two hundred people, it is almost inevitable, even if you truly desired to not let it enter your innocent ears, to overhear rumors that follow the same old, banal format: Oh so-and-so is dating so-and-so, but he is such a jerk! To newcomers, our schools dating life, or any kind of interaction between the female sex and the male sex, may seem too hyped up, too overrateda fashion craze that never seems to fail to cause a social ruckus among nosy individuals; to others (for example, yours truly), however, it is their sole means of vicarious lifestyle that provides them with their daily necessary dosage of thrill, for Facebook just doesnt seem to satiate. Having attended this school for more than eight years, it is my duty, and my honor, to report on the dating life, as comical and superfluous as it may appear, of our school. Unsurprisingly, the efficient administrators have not let this issue slip by their watch; they have dedicated an
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entire section in the student handbook, as provided in the following: Dalat International School encourages wholesome relationships between boys and girls. Public displays of affection, including handholding during school hours, are not allowed. The only appropriate physical expression in dating relationships at Dalat is holding hands. (2012 Student Handbook 34) If even the administration is concerned about the dating life of the student body that they have devoted half-apage explaining the rules, we can only imagine how fascinating and riveting it would appear to students. The sad (maybe not so sad for some) truth is: yes, dating, no matter how much effort is exerted to prevent it, is oftentimes heavily scrutinized by students; and it will always be the spectacle of the crowd and the topic of discussion at school. I heard the senior is going for that freshman girl! (irony alert) or Yeah, I heard their parents wont allow it and maybe even at times, They violated the three-second rule! For clarifications sake, the unspoken regulation of the three-second rule dictates that no male and female student will be allowed to embrace each other for more than three seconds; the punishment, of course, is not to be discussed too (but I would personally be more than alacritous to sacrifice my own reputation to test it out). But, wait a second; before we so willingly deem the school as a tyrannical dictatorial regime, or one that consists of a curious bunch of inquisitive individuals, we have to recognize all the things that we have been taking for granted all along.
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What makes our school so blessedly unique is that people genuinely care for each other, as we live in such a close, intimate community. Putting all the thrill aside, in no way would anyone engross himself in anothers life if a sincere, earnest thoughtfulness and empathy for one another were absent. Moreover, the administration only hopes for the best for the student body; even though their ways may seem a bit peculiar, it is the only effective method to ensure the welfare and safety of students, while still maintaining the traditional Christian take and stance on dating. Therefore, my precious underclassmen, save yourself some trouble by not dating. But if youre as courageous and blinded by love as I once was (or am), then go for it, have fun, read the handbook thrice before asking her out, and stop complaining about the circulating rumors (you probably like the attention anyway). Jeffrey Hsiao (12)
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Dalat High School Literary Magazine 2011-2012

Copyright 2012 ACAPSTIAM A Dalat International School Publication Contact us at ACAPSTIAM@gmail.com

The ACAPSTIAM Team

Sam Yeo Jim Choi

Ji Hoon Mun Shawn Kim

Joseph Kim Chan Hee Park

Sarah Uzzle (12)

Wending the Way

Jessie Brandon (9)

To the Great Farfoozle Fair!

Sarah Uzzle (12)

Ode to AC-Or Lack Thereof

Space. Food. Shelter.

So leave. Leave while you still can. Jackie Ashkin (10)

The Survival Game

Level three. Master the formulas which wields the world.

The masters of A to H is in control.

This finally ends with scars mended.

Softly falling (softly-softly) It means that winter is upon usHear the..

..Sleigh bells.. As they celebrate the day of Christmas

.. In There is a SPARK of winter..The (But the cold cant get to us)Air.

And its cozy in our homes(Hear the fire roar!)

.. Ive often marveled to seeHow much Joy this season brings!

If the world lived in unity? Lucia Combrink (9)

Judging The World

Boy-chasers World-haters ADHD too

called "People who Exist?" Kimberly Horton

The Boy and the West Wind

One by one he watched them die, 40 | A C A P S T I A M 2 0 1 1 - 2 0 1 2

Just How Much Does He Care?

Matthew Shafer (9)

Rapture from the Raven

The Chains of Darkness

I had no inspiration... . . . Then I thought of you . . . Ben Unruh (12)

Sarah Uzzle (12)

That Single Tear

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Sarah Uzzle (12)

Sarah Uzzle (12)

A Death in the Family

Steven Kwon (10)

An excerpt from Diary of a Dragon Ryder:

Reverse Psychology: The Versatile Artillery

The Tacit Rules of Love

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