Categories
Resist

Syria

A family sits around the table, quietly munching on small plates of food. The woman makes faces at her young baby in his bassinet and the man teases his toddlers. Laughter and love fill the house. 

But one rich and privileged man can destroy this house. He can turn this loving family to bits of ash. He can make hundreds of civilians be gone in a second. 

The missles that have been launched on the warring country of Syria will do not one bit of good. Solving violence with more violence will never work. Ending warfare with more weapons is ludicrous. 

President Trump has launched a vicious attack. He claimed that he is showing compassion toward the Syrian children who were killed last week. But what about the Syrian children who are alive and living in Syria? What about their parents and older siblings and family members? What about their homes and toys and lives that we are obliterating?

This attack is uncalled for. We are murdering innocent civilians in an attempt to end a war by starting a new battle. 

Categories
Poems

Noises

This hollow house

Is filled with noises
Left and right

My ears tingle 

Creaks from the stairs

Moans from the washer

The wind and rain

Whipping at the windows

The tree branches

Scratching at the front door

The voices on the television 

Colorful and excited

The songs streaming from my phone

And bouncing around my head

The bed gives a little “thoomph!”

As I shift from my side to my back

This house is full of noises

If we could only listen close

To what appears to be 

Utter silence

Categories
Bits and Pieces

Spring Break

Beads of sweat drip down my face as I stare down the rim. One more shot, I tell myself. Just one more and then I’ll go home. But I don’t. I shoot, over and over again. Swish! Clunk! Air ball. My shoes squeak the gym floor and my shirt is drenched. I tighten my ponytail, brushing wisps of hair out of my eyes. My hand goes up, past my nose, and I flick my wrist just so. The ball is a part of me. Swish. I rebound, I run, I shoot again. Panting and gasping for air, I curse the owners of Wakefield gym. No AC, none at all. I shoot and run and sweat. My body begs for mercy, but my brain begs for perfection, and my heart begs for basketball. The court is mine. My shoes slip on my own salty sweat and my fingers are red. The blood pounds through my hands and to my head. Any normal person would stop. But my water bottle sits, lonely, in my bag while I push through the throbbing in my head. My finger collapses in on itself, jammed, but I play on. My spring break will be a cycle of run, sweat, rebound, shoot, and swish.

And I will love every minute of it…

But first I have to get there.

Categories
Kiley's Stories

The Recluse

The house creaked and moaned from the gusts of wind. The hinges squeaked rapidly as the door rocked back an forth. In the dark and disturbing shadows there was a figure. We had heard of a recluse in these parts and hoped he or she could help us. Carefully, we called out to the figure, begging for shelter from the stormy heavens. The sky was black except for the shining silver moon directly above us. We shivered, pleading for the figure to come into the light. And so it did. With a roar like a lion, the figure raced toward us. The moon shone upon the hideous face of an old woman. her eyes were alight with rage as the wolves howled in the distance. We turned and ran, up the steepening hill and toward the horizon. We ran crying and screaming, praying that the woman would leave us be. Then we stopped. The woods around us were unfamiliar. Pine trees loomed over us and shadows danced across our eyeballs. We shivered as the temperature plummeted. Thunder cracked in our ears and lightning lit up the midnight sky. It had been hours since we had last seen civilization, and now we would forever be swallowed by the trees and the storm.

The old woman sat in her wooden shack and laughed. She laughed as the sun rose and the rain stopped. She laughed for years and years, for no one would ever know about the children lost in the deep dark woods, and no one would ever know what–or who– had really killed them.

Categories
Bits and Pieces

My Mind

My mind is a rollercoaster of crazy. My train of thought has stops in Bookville, Fandomland, and Basketballia. My dreams are filled with creepy crawlies, my thoughts are mixed in a blender of insanity. My brain twinkles with delight and fright and mischief and fun and torture. My words spill out twisting and turning as they fall into your ears. My mind is an endless landscape of snow and desert, rain and shine, mountains and plains. My mind is loud. So are my voices… can’t you hear them?

Categories
Poems

The Cold

She bites at my nose
She courses through my veins
She cradles my ears
She fills my ears
She nips at my toes
She swirls around
She closes in on my throat
She dances in the shadows
She pounces on me
She stops my heart
She is the cold
And she is bitter

Categories
Resist

International Women’s Day

Today is International Woman’s Day. It is not a day to mock or protest or scoff at. Today is a day to appreciate the impact women have on our society. Today feminists gather all over the world. Together they chant, “A day without a woman is a day without me.” Someone asked me why this, of all things, was the slogan they chose. They chant this because a day without women would be horrible. Women are such an enormous part of our society, and a day without their impact is something no one wants to see. 

Today someone asked me, “When is international men’s day?” I said, every day. Every single day. Men are respected and seen as equals every day, and they always have been. Women have had to earn their place in this world. Women have seen everywhere and everything to earn something as human as respect. 

Women across the planet are beaten, raped, bullied, tortured, and even killed because of their gender. There are people out there who believe that women are weaker, dumber, and less than men. We are living in the twenty-first century, and horrors like these still face us. 

Women and men all over the world are striking because women will no longer be ignored. Women will no longer be silent. We must speak up, rise up, and stand up against the evil misogynistic humans that live among us. Women, people of color, members of the LGBTQ community, and men must join together now. Now we must fight the racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and xenophobia that face us. 

International Women’s Day exsists to honor the women who have been pushed to the side and hidden in the shadows. Women will be hidden no more. Women will be silent no more. Today we join hands as humans to appreciate how women have so incredibly affected our world. 

Categories
Poems

The Girl with the Infinite Smile

Her face is rounded
The color of silky caramel
Her eyes widen, as does her smile
She lights up the room with one grin
Even in this dark car
Her eyes shimmer
Ever so slightly
And her lips quiver
Because she can’t help but smile
It is simply her nature
The girl with the infinite smile
No one will ever know
What is breaking her

Categories
Bits and Pieces

Writer

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of becoming a writer. Along the way I’ve had people tell me that someday I’ll be a famous author, amazing the world with my words. 

But now I look at myself, and I look at the words and world around me. And I am not a writer. 

To be a writer I have to write. Yes, I write poems here and there. Yes, I have published a book. Yes, I have posted pieces on websites and written things for school. But I don’t write. 

A writer writes things every day, a writer works to find the words whenever possible. I don’t write enough to consider myself a writer. 

But I’d like to change that. So I have a plan. I’ve tried it before and failed, but this time I believe I can succeed. I want to write once a day, every day, for an entire year. I now have the grit, determination, passion, focus, and dedication to see this goal through. I’m ready. 

So a year from now on March 1, 2018, I will be writing so frequently that it is habit. And this habit will not be a nuisance. This will not be a task that I force myself to complete every day. I want to find the strength inside myself to write, really write, and to enjoy it. 

I love writing. Now, I want to love being a writer. 

Day one… check. 

Categories
Resist

Global Warming

It is seventy-five degrees today. It is February in northern Virginia. Global warming is real, and it is affecting each and every one of us every single day. Our planet needs our help to protect it. Our planet has been hurt by humankind, over and over again. We are the reason that this planet is in trouble. Shouldn’t we reach out to help it?

But to do that we need a voice. We need a leader. In a time like this, of environmental crisis, we need a president. We need someone to lead us in repairing the damage we have done to this world. We need agencies and companies devoted to helping the environment. 

But the president we have now has shut these programs down. The president we have now believes that global warming is a hoax. The president we have now is a man full of hatred and awful thoughts. 

Global warming is real. I’m fourteen and standing face to face with it. It’s time for our president to face the truth.