Room 18 Issue 4 (Online)

7/31/2019 Room 18 Issue 4 (Online)

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Achievers 09Lorem Ispum School

LETTERS + STROKES

ROOM EIGHTEEN

ASIA ALSTON - ELLIE COHEN - QUADAJA HERRIOTTSIENNA LASTER - TRSEAT LAWRENCE - KAT PATRONG

BARRETT SMITH - MALIA WILLIAMS-HAYNES

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The future aint what it used to be.-yogi berra

KHAT PATRONG -2

KHAT PATRONG - 4

ASIA ALSTON - 5

TRSEAT LAWRENCE - 6

QUADAJA HERRIOT- 7

SIENNA LASTER - 8BARRETT SMITH - 9

TRSEAT LAWRENCE - 10

KHAT PATRONG - 11

ZOE GATTI - 12

ASIA ALSTON - 13


ELLIE COHEN - 16

BARRETT SMITH - 18

MALIA WILLIAMS-HAYNES - 19

BARRETT SMITH - 20

SIENNA LASTER - 22

ELLIE COHEN - 23

SIENNA LASTER - 24

SIENNA LASTER - 26

QUADAJA HERRIOT - 27


COVER ART: ZOE GATTI

ROOM EIGHTEEN - ISSUE Iv

CONTENTS

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He attempted to plant a kiss on her rightcheek. Her eyes looked distant and he didnot recognise the skirt she wore. Im fine, but I have something to say she said, looking at him for the first time. Her lipsmoved, but the words dismantled themse

lves in front of him, he spent the entire time trying to comprehend what it was shesaid. When she was finished, he got up without a word and left her there. His footsteps softer than her sniffling.

That night, he looked up at the ceiling, at theglow in the dark stars his father had put up when he was younger. He thought about the time he and his friends saw a prostitute pull atthe hem of her skirt as she stepped into the back of a police cruiser. Then he thought of her, as he knew her a t-shirt and jeans type of

girl; a year younger than him, and yet she knew so much more.

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5

BREATHE BABY,BREATHE

Her blood was thick, deep like thecoils of her hair, her roots buried deepdown into the dirt. She lay theremotionless. Mr. Man stood theremotionless. His black knucklesmarked with the sweetness of hersmile. He wiped it clean off for the

third time this week.

Shed been in too good of amood Monday, and he had had a badday at work. Wednesday, she broke aglass while washing dishes. Andtoday, she spent too much time

folding clothes. To him, this meantdisrespect and a man who does notdemand respect, does not deserve it.So he hit her. Collapsed on the living room

floor, she managed to whisper, Icant breathe.

He frowned, positioning his

fist to strike her again.Bitch, hows that my

problem? He grabbed a towel,wiped off his knuckles, and tossedit at her. Clean this shit up beforeI get back.

Ending her stream ofconsciousness, her thoughts wereof him and how the man she usedto love still managed to take herbreath away whenever he left.

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RELIGIONS CURE

The way I see it, the humanbody is so beautiful, it couldnt havebeen made by accident, thats howhe tells you youre wrong to questionif theres a higher being. A seventeen-

year-old boy, with an infatuation for

the breasts and lower backside of awoman, has solved the agnosticsconfusion. His hypothesis wouldsuffice you too, if you were ateenager, like himself, flushed withoveractive hormones. The boy isntquite grown up; he doesnt

understand the way the world works.He hasnt had enough time to dissectand consider the spiritual world. Hedoesnt know what youve beenthrough. Hes oblivious to the factthat you were once certain of Godsexistence, but there came a time

when you had no one to turn to andGod himself was disregarding yourmessages, hitting the ignore button

when you called. All those moments,you were stranded in disasterbecause, for whatever reason, youlived a difficult life. Then one daysomething clicked; you came to aconclusion: Either God doesnt care,or he isnt real. The question of

which will haunt you, perhaps, untilthe day you die. Though sadly, yourea pessimist and youre almost certain

beauty can be an accident.7

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SIENNA LASTER

AT ITS WORST (a love story)

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TRSEAT LAWRENCES

ISRAELITES

Sunday dresses for church hang color coordinated in

her closet; she says her prayers every night.

Head lies gently on a silk pillow,

tonight she will know how freedom feels.

The devil kissed her cheek after every tuck in, herfingers became the Israelites.

She recited in her head,I just wanna see what it feels like.

Her thighs parted ways like the red sea,splash, holy water trickled down her legs.

A tear falls slowly off the side of her face. This must bethe promised land. This must be what God feels like.

But among you there must not be evena hint of sexual immortality, or of anykind of impurity, or of greed, because

these are improper for Gods holypeople (Ephesians 5:3)


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BRUISED PEACHES

He kicks at an empty beans can with old blue Converse. His tattered windbreaker jacket covers up the t-shirt he wore yesterday. He doesnt know why he goes to school, when all he really learns is a teachers sympathy isnt worth two shits and laughter can burn him

on the spot, down to his beat up shoes.

He looks up at the world with the same eyes as his mothers, the only difference being that she always looksdown. When he bends to tie his shoe, he rememberswhat his father once told him, In a world full of applesauce, dont ask for peaches. And as the wind blew,he imagined he was a part of it -the wind- and all thatwould be left, would be his blue shoes.

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ASIA ALSTON

HE SAID - SHE SAID (THE MASTER)

He said: Its been a while.

She said: Since what?

He said: Since I seen you and it took you forever to call.

She said: I was scared.

He said: What is there to be scared of?

She said: Its scary how history repeats itself, isnt it?

He said: I miss you.

She said: Listen.

He said: I am.

She said: Do you picture yourself the slave or the master?

He said: What?

She said: Answer the question.

He said: The Master, of course.

She said: Right.

He said: Huh?

She said: What do you see me as?

He said: The masters wife.

She said: The real slave.

He said nothing.


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Expectation is the root of all heartaches. William Shakespeare

He Says: Its been a year and five months.

She Says:Yes, and Ive enjoyed every moment.He Says: Space is necessary in every relationship.

She Says: I guess bullshit is too.

He Says: I dont want to see you hurt.

She Says: Explain the tears on my face.

He Says: I have to do this for me.

She Says: What happened to us?

He Says: This isnt for me to talk to other people.

She Says: Explain that tweet last night.

He Says: Its just Twitter.

She Says: I guess this is were the bullshit comes in.

He Says: I dont want you to hate me.

She Says: But hate is my last resort

He Says: Im sorry, Im only seventeen.

She Says: Didnt you know that one year and five months ago?

He Says: Bay, you dont understand.

She Says:With hate in the picture, I never will. Just promise

youll never replace me.He Says: That was never even a choice.

She Says:Was it my fault?

He Says: No, just right now, I need to be selfish.

TR SEAT N. LAWRENCE

HE SAID-SHE SAID

S(HES) BR(OK)EN


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She Says: So youre never coming back?

He Says: I never planned to leave.

She Says: Fuck, youre confusing me.

He Says:Youre always in my heart.

She Says: Yeah, but for how long?

He Says: Forever.She Says: Dont do this.

He Says: I have to do this, for me.True story.

___________________________

And As Usual,

Promises become bullshit

Forever is figurative

Tears become a habit

heartache becomes your best friend

And thinking of memories is a nightly ritual

I just wish you knew, but deep down in the pit of my heart Iknow,

You never will.


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ELLIE COHENWE DONT TALK

(AND ITS MY FAULT)


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BARRETT SMITH

ADAGIO

Her son kicks on the brakes of her wheelchair. Where is she?It is familiar. A dusty piano. She protests, I cant.

Just try, Ill go make your sandwich.She wills her hands to move. Shakily, they rise. And fall. The

keys are thick. Thicker than her fingers. The music is in front of her.How did that happen? She hears a D-flat. Her fingers are moving. Unfamiliarly quickly.

In the next room, a man and his sister toast bread and fix tuna with celery. The sister sways to the Music of the Night, influenced by years of dance. The man tries not to let his sister see his smile.

When was the last time shes played like this? She asksHe ignores her question; She cant even walk to the toiletThe music stops.

A man appears beside her. He is anxious. Her shaky hand is raised. She cant pick up the page. How did it turn? She looks up.

That was beautiful momRaised, is a familiar question:Who are you?

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Hello. She said, breathing heavily down thephone.

Where you been girl? the voice on the other endsaid, Ive been calling you and your mother and neither ofyou have been answering the phone.

It was true, they hadnt talked in weeks. She hadcalled him a couple times but only got his voicemail.

I. Called. You. Back. Dad. She said in staccato.His routine happened often enough and she was tired of it.

She mouthed his response, even before he said it.No you didnt, I wouldve seen if you called.She had a response she had prepared hours ago,

and though she told him that she had called yesterday, aswell as earlier in the day, she was not sure how much of ithe heard between his continual complaints that she did notlove him.

I came all the way across town on the Metro, andwalked to your house to come see you, and you cant evengive me a call? he said. She knew it was his attempt tomake her feel a sense a guilt, yet despite the knowledge ofthis, it continued to work every time.

But I have called. She repeated, but still it fell onears distracted by their own words and what it was theywanted to hear.

Im coming to see you this weekend so dont makeplans. he said.Okay, she said, knowing she might hear from him

next Friday, or even later.Alright, bye.Bye. she replied and hit end on her cell phone.

She scrolled through the menu, for her list of recent calls,and called Wendi back. It went to voicemail.

Hey Wendi, she said, just calling to confirm thatI can make the sleepover this weekend...

MALIA WILLIAMS-HAYNES

VOICE MALE

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When you're standing on the green/yellow line platform at GalleryPlace, waiting to make your transfer, do you notice how tensepeople get? They start to put away their valuables and glancearound. Or when you get on the orange/blue line train and youfeel like everyone else is classier than you, you can't help butnotice the judgmental side glances, as if you're some sort of slag ordrug dealer. And how many times have I heard people runninghalf an hour late say "I'll just blame it on the red line." The metrolines aren't just one area, one people, they each stretch across the

whole city, but somehow connotations are universal on thesetrains.

BARRETT SMITH

MAPS

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Times are always changing, and with them people want the lawsto change. Naturally, there is resistance to these changes;

protests are met with counter protests, arguments with debates,reason with reason. This is how our democratic republic issupposed to work, America at it's best. However, more thanoften, change is halted because "God didn't want it this way" or

because "this isn't what the bible said" but is this really a validreason to interfere with someones personal search for life,liberty and the pursuit of happiness? Live your life the way you

want, obey what you want and listen to whoever's God you thinkwill condemn you, but when it comes to law, "no religious Testshall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or publicTrust under the United States" (1) and "Congress shall make nolaw respecting an establishment of religion." (2)------1(Article VI US Constitution)2 (Amendment I Us Constitution) 21


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It was cold enough outside to see your own breath, but that was never the reason why he shook. Hed always been a shy, nervous man, with the kind of stutter that made you turn to whoever was nearest to you and whisper poor man. He sat at the kitchen table with his girlfriend as they unwrapped presents, brushed pine needles off of the brightly colored paper and exchanged a kiss after every gift, every meaningful material objectgiven. And finally, the time had come. He announced that h-h-he had o-o-one m-more g-g-gift, and then he got up and walked over to her side.

He got down on one knee, then fumbled in his pocket for the box. He pulled it out, shaking and very nearly hyperventilating. And then he askedthe question to his feet, not at all like it looked in the movies, because hecouldn't look up, because of the piercing what if that came with it. It was silent, then she opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, although her voice came out before she had time to think, and she said, softly, Im only twenty-four. And then he stopped shaking. He just stared

at the floor as he had before, except now it was this odd, emotionless stupor, his feeling completely void of emotion. He should feel horrified, embarrassed, as he thought he would. He just didnt feel at all, and he felt as if he wasnt even in his own body anymore, as if he were in a dream, this perculiar, floaty, but awfully heavy feeling. He didnt look up to see her pity, and how much she wished she could take it back and mean it, hisremaining fixed to the flooring and the opening between two wood pane

ls. Hed become a part of history, joined the long list of rejected suitors that had passed through the ages. Hed read about them, seen their circumstance in movies. Each reacting differently but always with anger. . Some would head to a bar with a friend and theyd drink and drink and drink until they put their heads down on the bar table, their secrets spillingout of their mouth along with drool. But he didnt have a friend like thatto go out with, nor did he know of any good bars, because hed never bee

n much of a drinker, nor had he ever conformed to the comfortable norm that movies were made to imitate. So, for the benefit of them both, hegot up off the floor, closed the box, and walked out the door without even taking his jacket, and then walked aimlessly through the snowy streetsof New York to make his own clich.

ELLIE COHEN

THE PROPOSAL


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sienna lasterFORTUNE COOKIE POEM


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*on the phone with a friend*

She said: Hes starting to ask about a father.She said: What do you tell him?She said: I just tell him his father is a hero and hes busy saving lives.She said: And what does he say?She said: Nothing, he just turns away and stares at the wall, like hes w

aiting for the truth.She said: And what do you do?She said: I do the same.She said: Why?She said: Theres nothing else for me to do, all I can do is just wait.She said: Have you heard from his father?She said: No, he hasn't responded to any of the letters Ive sent. Its be

en months, many months, almost a year since Ive heard from him.She said: Have you at least heard from any of his friends?She said: No.She said: Do you think...She said: I know, but I wish I didnt.

sienna laster

HE SAID - SHE SAID (MONTHS)

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QUADAJA HERRIOTT

INNOCENCE TERMINATION

She spotted the signs of suppressed excitement and new life. The

idea was abstract in her nine-year-old mind, but she understood the needto conceal her curiosity. It was meant to be a surprise, the good kind.Although, when the time came, the words broke through a gate of tightlocked lips and sprung upon her young mother. She refused to accept anyadditions to her life. Her brother, six years younger, was enough. Inexplaining to her parent the lack of desire for anything recent, it was asthough she had to create a whole new set of words to get her point across.The typical reasons, the ones shed heard on T.V. programs and the ones

shed gotten from eavesdropping on her mothers conversations withoverly optimistic girlfriends, werent the real reasons she said no,although, she did say it. Firmly. And her part-time father was to blamefor exposing her to the world far too soon and sleeping with her mothersbest friend and forcing her to keep quiet without even saying a word.And her mothers love for her, a love that could put out the fire in hell,and tame the devil himself, was proved. And she got rid of it, the spawnshe was carrying, that troubled her first born soit was terminated. But

the child said no to the wrong person. She said no to the woman whowould give anything for her, she said no to the woman who would fight tolive with just a fraction of her heart left, for her. The other unborn iswhom the child wanted out of the picture because it would be harder to fitin her fantasy of a truly united family.


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ROOM 18 - ISSUE #4- DECEMBER 2011PRODUCED BY THE LITERARY MEDIA & COMMUNICATIONS DEPARTMENT

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Room 18 Issue 4 (Online)