Avhs WRITERS BLOC LITERARY MAGAZINE

(2014-2015)

Produced by the lit mag team

WRITE SING

EXPRESS

PLAY

“Who were you before the world told you what you were not?”” ― Bryant McGill

The Writers Bloc club at Amador Valley High School is a place where people can freely express themselves, whether it be through

writing, singing, dancing, or more. Writers Bloc serves as an outlet for the many variations of

expression that exist throughout the world. Although self-expression traditionally is limited to

art, music, or sports, self-expression can be anything that gives one hope, motivation,

enlightenment, or identity.

Produced by Julie Chew and Jasmine Yamanaka

Illustration by Alison Ou

Special thanks to Mr.Scherer, our friend and advisor

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. Oh Sailor by Emma Lii….............................................................1

2. Dragon Hunter by Lacey Hicks…............................................2-6

3. The Eyes by Michelle Christman….........................................7-8

4. The Magical Wait by Jasmine Yamanaka............................9-10

5. True Oppression by Alice Holtzclaw …...................................11

6. Funny by Julie Chew….............................................................12

7. Alive by Mikki Lim….................................................................13

8. Like An Ant by Jasmine Yamanaka....................................14-15

Oh Sailor

By Emma Lii

I fell in love with a boy

Who built boats with sticks and

Loved the sound of the waves.

I knew

You were born for greatness.

I learned to toughen up,

To wear my jaw down chewing barley,

To pretend to be in control,

To smooth the calluses on your hands and

To love your hearty laugh.

Always wanted you to look at my eyes

But all you saw were oceans

And

You would never find them because

They could only flow without your presence.

(I learned to toughen up.)

When you leave, you make sure I am docked at the port.

Oh sailor,

Why is it that when my boat comes into view

You sail farther into the horizon?

The Dragon Hunter

By Lacey Hicks

“We must send someone to kill that dragon. It’s eating our

cattle!” shouted a man.

I stepped away from the door, my long, blond hair falling

down my back. I have blue eyes that my parents say are as big as

small stones. I have very pale skin that is almost always bright red

from the enormous sun in the sky. And my violet dress goes all the

way past my nobly knees.

I knew that a young man would soon leave the camp. The

Hunters sent a man at least once a year to go kill an annoying

dragon. The man was almost always victorious. But sometimes

they never returned. The Hunters would call a Gathering

tomorrow and announce the “lucky” person who would be going

on the quest. The man who went on the quest would have to climb

Purple Mountains and enter Dragon Caves. There the man would

slay the dragon, and take its tooth.

But that was tomorrow. I had no worries about it today.

I awoke the next morning to the blow of a conch horn. I

got up and walked to the Gathering. I knew that my father would

not send me. He was the leader of the Hunters and it was his

decision who would leave. Even though it was a great honor, he

knew I was too weak to kill a dragon.

I got to the Gathering, and my father began to speak, “As

you all know, there has been a dragon taking our cattle. I have

decided to send someone to slay it. I have decided to send my

daughter, Skylar! Skylar, please step forward.”

I couldn’t believe it, I wouldn’t believe it! Me the weak,

blond- haired and blue eyed, peaceful girl, sent on a quest over the

Purple Mountains to kill a dragon?

“Skylar, please step forward,” repeated my father as if he

was far away.

I stepped forward as if in a daze.

“This is your champion!” called my father gesturing at me.

But I didn’t hear him, I was already thinking about how soon I

would die.

After I said good-bye to my parents, I began my journey

along the dirt trail that led to the Purple Mountains.

I walked, wondering how I could ever bring honor to the

family.

A couple of days later, I was climbing the Purple

Mountains when I saw a burst of flames coming from about a mile

ahead. I stopped in my tracks and almost fell off the mountain! I

hurriedly regained my balance, my heart pounding. I couldn’t

believe I was this close to the dragons! I didn’t know what to do if I

came face to face with one. Would I shoot it, stab it, or reason

with it? Then I heard a sound. It was kind of in between a roar and

a meow.

“Rrrow,” I heard it again.

Then the thing came over the top of the mountain and it

was a … dragon?

“Rrrow,” it said again.

I laughed. This thing was a dragon? Dragons were

supposed to be large and ferocious. This one was small and didn’t

look very dangerous. Actually, it kind of looked like a large chicken

with scales. Has this been what the Hunters and the rest of us have

been scared of all our lives?

I stuck out my hand and the little dragon came right up

and licked it. This thing couldn’t be dangerous. It was sooo cute! I

just couldn’t kill it.

“Hey fella,” I said. “Do you have any parents?”

I didn’t expect an answer, but the dragon seemed to nod

like he understood me.Then he stuck his little head in the direction

of Dragon Caves.

“Do you understand me?” I asked.

It seemed like he nodded again. And again he jerked his

head in the direction of Dragon Caves.

“Do you want to go there?”

This time, instead of waiting for me to catch on, he just

walked in that direction. I didn’t know if I should follow. He turned

his head and looked at me with his big silver eyes. I got up and

trudged after him.

As we walked (and stumbled) along the mountain side, I

began thinking of a name for this little dragon. I couldn’t keep

calling him little dragon.

“I know,” I said out loud. “I’ll call you Bob!”

The little dragon didn’t even look around.

“Okay, not Bob, how about George?”

It went on like this for an hour or so, waiting for the little

guy to make an inclination that I was even talking.

“How about Smokey?” I asked.

The little dragon stopped and looked around, as if

wondering who said that.

“Smokey,” I said again.

The little dragon came running over to me.

“Then Smokey it is.”

About an hour later, my stomach made a noise that didn’t

please me. I was hungry and I had run out of food. I looked around

and saw a bush. I walked towards it and Smokey came running

over.

BLUEBERRIES!

I plucked a few and graciously chewed them. To my

surprise, Norbert plucked a few also and popped them into his

mouth.

“You like berries?” I asked.

Smokey nodded.

“But I thought you ate cows,” I said.

Smokey had begun walking again, and I followed. I was still

in shock with my discovery that I didn’t notice we had made it to

Dragon Caves. I looked around and couldn’t believe what I was

seeing. Dragon Caves was a valley surrounded by the Purple

Mountains. In the Purple Mountains were little caves that each

had a dragon inhabiting it. It was so beautiful with the blue sky and

white clouds up above, and a highly vegetated valley below.

Shining streams, and trees laden with fruit down in the valley. And

the dragons. They were everywhere. Flying, playing, sleeping. It

would’ve been the most glorious thing I’d ever seen if not for the

enormous green dragon flying right at me.

“Rrroar!” cried the dragon.

I took a few steps backward. I stumbled, and fell.

The huge dragon swooped towards me. I closed my eyes,

and then I heard a sound like the cooing of doves. I opened my

eyes and saw the huge dragon next to Smokey. And they were

nuzzling each other! I stood up and cautiously walked over to

Smokey.

“Is this your mother?” I asked. He answered with a nod of

his head.

Smokey’s mother seemed to like me. At least she didn’t kill

me. Smokey and I ate, slept, and played for the next couple of

days.

It had been about fifteen days since I left my family when I

heard the sound of a conch horn. Immediately, there was a roar

from Smokey’s mother and she plucked Smokey and me off the

ground. She flew towards her cave. As we flew, I had a clear view

of the Hunters climbing the mountain. I couldn’t believe it! My

family was actually coming to look for me! But then I saw what

they were holding, and my heart dropped. They all had spears and

arrows. Two of them were even pushing a cannon!

Smokey’s mother landed, with a loud thump, on the floor

of the cave. I immediately got out and started heading towards the

Hunters. Smokey followed me.

I turned around and saw him. “Smokey, you can’t come

with me,” I said. “The Hunters, they’ll kill you.”

He followed me, and his mother followed him. It must

have been a strange sight as we walked up to the Hunters.

My father was in the front of the group. “Skylar, are you all

right?” he asked. “Are those, did those dragons hurt you?”

“No father. The dragons are my friends. We had it all

wrong. Dragons don’t eat humans, they don’t even eat cows. I

think babies just play with them for fun. They only eat berries and

plants.”

“How can this be true?” asked another Hunter. “The

dragons have killed us for centuries.”

“I think they were just doing it to protect themselves,” I answered,

directing my speech to all the Hunters now. “Please father, they’re

peaceful.”

My father looked from me, to Smokey and his mother, to

the Hunters behind him.

“Very well,” he finally said, turning back to me, “We will

live in peace with the dragons as long as they do the same for us. I

do not wish to slay such beautiful and peaceful creatures. Please,

Skylar, tell them that all we have done was purely for protection.”

“I will father. Thank you.”

The Eyes

By Michelle Christman

If you're reading this, I'm probably already dead. I want

this to be a warning to anyone reading this...

I noticed it about three months ago. The lights outside my

window. I was sitting at my desk, dragging through an hour of

history homework, when I caught it out of the corner of my eyes. A

pair of white lights, in the inky black of the night. First I made

nothing of it. I just assumed they were headlights from the nearby

freeway. But, as time dragged on...the lights didn't move...they

didn't flicker out...they didn't go...I looked out the window. The

lights...were persistent...and they didn't once flicker. They were

the only light in the night...and they felt...like eyes...watching me.

I didn't sleep very well that night...

Over the next few months, more and more things started

happening. Cars would slowly drive by our house...and mysterious

letters and packages containing nothing would show up at our

door! I feel like I'm being watched and followed, everyday! This

may sound crazy...but I do legitimately think someone...or

something...is stalking me...

My parents have called the police about the letters and

packages. The cops just said it was probably an error at post

office...but something deliberate is happening. At first, I wanted to

get to the bottom of it. Now I'm not so sure...

The scariest is the lights. They've been watching me every

night. There's no exception to the rule. When I went on an

overnight stay at my grandparents' house, the lights followed.

When I called my parents upstairs to see the lights, they couldn't

see them. But I could...

Am I losing my mind?

I have no choice, I have to run. I'll pack my stuff, and leave

soon. I'll leave, when they, or it, are least expecting him. I don't

know where I'm going, I don't know what'll happen...just know...if

you experience what I've been experiencing...run...run...run...

If you see my name on the news, you know what happened.

Sincerely,

Rowan Andrew Ridley

----

NEWS: 17 year old Rowan Ridley still missing after three weeks of

searching. The young man disappeared on the night of April 14th,

2015. His family and friends report him as acting "paranoid and

distracted" in the weeks before his disappearance. No body has

been discovered.

The Magical Wait

By Jasmine Yamanaka

He waits at the lonely bench secluded from the rest of the

fair. The sky is a piercing sapphire color with hints of yellow and

red from the hiding sun. The lights from the carnival rides light up

the air, and the endless rows of corn dog and barbecue stands

blend neon lights with the warm, hazy air. He continues to wait

there for at least an hour, his gaze divided between his cell phone

and the stream of couples in nighttime traffic, but all the while,

alone, with no one but himself and his expectations.

I sit at a bench directly opposite from him and can't help

but stare at his nervous glances. His feet are stomping, and he

holds roses in his hands. He's a stranger and he’s alone, but love

emanates from him more than any couple I see around. As I get a

peak of his anxious face scanning the crowd through the gaps of

random passersby, I'm taken back to a time when I was once like

him. A hopeless young romantic lost in the eyes of another

individual. A young, inexperienced girl with no knowledge of her

future or her life, the girl who made decisions that meandered

within the hypocritical winds of youth and curiosity. I remember

how those everlasting minutes before seeing that special person

felt. In that small sacred moment, we can feel their love and

romance strongly as though they are there next to us, yet at the

same time, uncertainty and anticipation leads our minds to

imagine all of the possibilities, a million times and over again.

Magic, is what it feels. A magical moment where imagination is the

closest it will ever be to reality.

I look up from the warm, cement ground, and see the

once occupied bench is vacant. I stand up and look around for the

boy, but he is nowhere to be seen. I sit myself back on the bench

as boys and girls, men and women interlocking their fingers pass

me by second by second. As my senses doze off to the hazy

summer twilight, blood red petals are swept to the tips of my

shoes. Surrounded by an atmosphere of romance and adventure, I

realize that, just like the boy with roses in his hands, I am waiting

as well. I don't know for whom I am waiting for, or when they will

come, but they will come one day. Maybe I will even be sitting at

this same bench with my heart beating and hands shaking, waiting

for that special someone to arrive.

True Oppression

By Alice Holtzclaw

We march to the beat of another's drum

We dance to the music of other souls

We talk in the language of someone else's tongue

Yet we call ourselves individuals

We claim to be unique

When everything has already been done

We ask ourselves what makes us different

But no one will respond

Once we begin to accept

The people who break the path of tradition

We will begin to see the potential

That so many people keep locked away in fear

Populations survive on diversity

How is it that we have not died out

When all our society does is banish

Those who threaten the blanket of ignorance

True oppression is not in the abuse

Though bruises and scars bring attention

It is the state of mind to which

Everyone is forced to obey

Funny

By Julie Chew

It's funny how the world works.

I once met an old man working

Behind the counters he looked at me

“How are you?” he asks and smiles

“Good,” I say quietly

In my arms I gather

My coffee, clothes, and makeup

How long it would take

For him to save up

To buy what I've spent

In a split of second

His month's collection

Gone like a cent

I go home

Something he struggles to have

Do I really deserve it

More so than that man?

Alive

By Mikki Lim

i don't know what I want, the dark or the light

the light gives me comfort

the dark gives me fright

but the dark is unhealthy

it swallows me whole

while light provides friends

and gives me some hope

the truth is: i honestly don't really care

as long as i'm living

because what else is there?

Like An Ant

By Jasmine Yamanaka

A hazy Saturday afternoon spent alone.

There’s this place that I go to, when I feel like getting away. It’s my

own secret little place, like a second bedroom for me, but it’s

actually only in my backyard. I rest myself at this spot, at the

corner of my lawn, nestled between the blueberry bushes. My

hands are empty, and my feet are bare and already stained by

mud. Today, I look at the ants crawling up the fence, never

stopping to take a rest. It looked as though they were always

looking for something, but never had the time to live.

Sometimes, it takes a while for it to happen. The more

stressed or busy I am, the harder it is for my mind to be taken

away. However, even in the most stressful of days, it always

arrives.

And it starts with the music.

Gradually, I hear crickets playing their melody, singing

faintly to themselves and each other. And then comes the guitar,

soft, deep, playing along with the grass that sways in the wind,

dancing to the melody. The backdrop begins the song, setting the

mood, then the birds join in and sing with their sweet, light pitched

voices. Every now and then, you can hear the sound of the

glistening pool water, as one droplet integrates into a million other

fallen droplets, and blends into one uniform body of nothingness.

All of these songs grow louder, and louder, until

everything is playing into my ear and filling my brain, the song of

my world that is far from here. In this world, the sun shines down

directly onto my face as though to caress only my face and no one

else. I can look into her lonely, golden eyes and smile, not having

to be afraid of becoming blind. Her heat surrounds me, but is

neutralized by the wind that passes me by every few seconds. The

music continues, and time stretches into an undefined eternity. It

is here that I determine that this is living. This is the life without

unnecessary worries and reliance on technology. This, I think as I

breathe for the first time in weeks, is living. How nice does it feel

to experience the world in its entirety, as opposed to an image of a

deceptive screen. How nice does it feel to experience...

RRRRRRRING...RRRRRRRRING...RRRRRRRRING…

My eyes remain open but I see another world. I see the

ants again, still running around desperately as they were before,

and still searching for something that doesn't exist. I no longer

hear the music, nor does the sun shine only for me. Nature is no

longer my friend, for I am back in that world.

I reach into my pockets and take out my phone. I could

never escape for long.

“Hello?”

As I walk away from that beautiful, dreamy world, and

leave it once again for the never-ending call of modern technology,

I, in ways that are hard to understand, am also leaving reality.