Old Sport Literary Magazine July issue

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Old Sportliterarymagazine

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July 2012

People. . .

Old SportFaculty AdviserLindsay Green

Student Editors (the Old Sports)Briena WilliamsGabriella FisherMya Johnson

Samuel StanderferSamuel StanderferBrittany BrownFernanda SchaeferMariah SchaeferJulie TianMegan WolterNina HopkinsAndrew LeeAndrew LeeTara IbrahimNiya VanEatonJonah PeoplesIshy Sunny Singh

Cover ArtLindsay Green

Published byPublished byCentennial High School English Department

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13 Haikus Andrew A Lee A weird word: Haiku The "hai" part sounds like "hello" The "ku" is just strange I am a gangster But I secretly love art. What am I to do? This is a free flow- -ing Haiku. I am going To end soon.. Like now. I hate haikus I hate them with a passion They are restrictive Haiku haiku hai- Ku haiku haiku haiku Haiku haiku hai- Creativity It's like a.. Um.. I got this! Hmm.. Er... I give up. huckleberry finn Helped Jim escape slavery But is quite racist Job: babysitter I sit on top of babies I hope I get paid Wikipedia Anyone can edit it But I still trust it I love coffee You make bad mornings good ones I'll die without you I'm misunderstood I want them to understand So I keep writing

13 Haikus cont. Andrew A Lee I'm Amelia Earhart Adventurous daring soul I'm so far gone Haikus are easy So much from five, seven, five I am now finished

~~~~~~~~~ Romance Brie Williams His fingers slide between mine as he pulled my hand to his lips. With the feeling of his breath hot against my skin everything melted away. My head lay against his chest and my eyes drifted closed, all the while his heart drummed out a lullaby. And in that moment, I knew I was safe. He had me cloaked with the impenetrable force that was his love; Nothing mattered except for the rhythm of his heart and the feel of his body against mine and the heat of his breath. In that moment we were free; free from the worry that plagued our minds. Free from the fear of what tomorrow would bring. Free from the doubt of our pledge for forever. Free to love as openly and strongly as we ever could, for our hearts to yearn for each other until the break free of the prison in which they are kept. Simply free.

A Secret Love Brie Williams I sat on the step, my eyelids felt heavy and the events of the day had just been exhausting. I strained my ears to hear the butler calling the taxi. I hated sitting there, my thoughts swimming around my head. I walked slowly down the gravel driveway, the rocks crackling beneath my loafers. I had my eyes focused on a rock, bigger than the other, when I heard my name. It took a second to register, but I knew that voice better than my own; Gatsby. My eyes darted to the bushes where he was standing. The thing I think I remember the most was how he seemed to glow in that silly pink suit of his, the light from the moon danced around him. He was beautiful, in the sort that he was so mysterious to me. That’s when I remembered where we were and a confused look must have flashed through my face for Gatsby answered my unspoken question. “I-I just wanted to make sure everything around here was okay.” His eyes shifted up to Daisy’s window. “Did you see the woman?” He wouldn’t look at me directly but I knew what he was getting at. “It was Daisy, wasn’t it?” My voice was barely audible. He nodded and finally brought his eyes to mine. He seemed to choke over his next words, as if he couldn’t say them fast enough. “I’ll take the blame of course! I mean, Daisy was flustered and wanted a drive to calm down. And out of nowhere the woman runs into the street. At first Daisy turned away into the other lane but turned back. I told her she was probably killed on impact, better to deal with the shock all at once.” “She was ripped open.” The words I spoke didn’t seem real, and I questioned whether I even spoke them. The Gatsby answered my thoughts. He winced, genuinely affected. “Please don’t tell me Old Sport.” I nodded in response and began to finish my way down the path, he followed behind slowly, kind of like a lost puppy. I sat on the curb, looking down the street for the cab. “I really didn’t mean for it to happen old sport.” “I know.” I tried to make my voice reassuring but was unsuccessful. “Nick?” “Yes, Gatsby?” “You’re my best friend.” A smirk danced across my face and our eyes met, his full of mystery, and hope, and a sort of intensity that words can do no justice. “I’ve only ever had one other friend like you old sport.” “Gatsby, you’re my best friend too.” With that he sat down on the curb beside me. Having him closer seemed to calm my nerves, I wasn’t ready to go home, I wanted the cab to break down, so I could spend more time beside him. “Growing up my parents were farmers, unsuccessfully of course.” As soon he said this I knew I was hearing things no one else Gatsby surrounded himself with knew. “I grew up James Gatz of North Dakota, poor and friendless. And at seventeen on Lake Superior, I met Dan Cody, and Jay Gatsby was born.” His eyes sparkled with the mention of Dan Cody. “Even though Dan was my best friend, I-I just feel differently around you. And I know I’ve have only had a few-“ I placed my hand on top of his and smiled, and he smiled at me dumbfounded.

A Secret Love cont. Brie Williams “Gatsby, I feel the same way.” I couldn’t hold back how happy it made me to know our feelings were shared. His eyes outshone the moon now and I interlaced our fingers. “I- I love you Nick.” You could hear how nervous he was. He chewed softly on his bottom lip, the nerves getting to him. I moved my right hand and placed it softly on his cheek. Our breath fell in unison and the space between us slowly became less and less imposing. “Excuse me?” We both jumped to hear the cab driver above us. Realizing what this must have looked like we quickly jumped up and dusted off our trousers. I climbed in the car, sliding across the brown leather, with Gatsby following suit. “What about Daisy?” Gatsby’s voice was a whisper in my ear and having his breath against my neck made my stomach flutter. “She’ll be fine.” A storm of jealously built up in my stomach and I couldn’t help but be angry over how she treated him. She didn’t deserve his love or his worry. For the rest of the ride I watched his fingers pick at the white stitching of the seat, unable to shake his worry. The cab pulled to a stop at the end of my driveway, and Gatsby and I climbed out. He paid the driver and stood beside me watching the car pull away and disappear down the road. As soon as the taillights disappeared Gatsby’s hand slipped in mine. I smiled and we walked up to my house slowly soaking in the light from the moon. When we got to the door he turned to face me, his smile magnificent, making it impossible not to smile back. My right hand slid up his arm and to his neck as I pulled his face closer, slowly closing the distance. His lips brushed against mine and electricity seemed to pulse through my veins. I pulled my lips away slightly. “I love you too Gatsby.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper but I knew he heard me. He closed the gap between us again and pressed his lips against mine. I pulled away slowly and no words could do justice to how beautiful he looked at that exact moment. A long moment passed where I just stared, at everything really, the hint of a smile that played across his face. “Are you alright?” His voice was playful and brought me back. At that I fumbled through my trouser pocket, searching for the keys. I pulled them from my pocket and unlocked the door, motioning for him to enter ahead of me. He reached about clumsily, searching for the light. Once I flipped it on we walked towards the sitting room. Gatsby slipped out of his jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. Purple circles rung his eyes and I could tell he was exhausted from the day’s events. It was hard to imagine that just earlier his car had ripped Myrtle to pieces, shredding every strand of life that had sewn her together. “You want anything to drink?” I called as I made my way to the kitchen. “Just a glass of water please, I’ve had nothing since the hotel.” The scene from earlier played through my head. It seems now that Gatsby was confused as to how he felt at the time. I thought of how he confessed his love for Daisy, and now me. Did he really love Daisy? The question buzzed around my head as I pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. I took a sip and handed him the glass. It must have been obvious my mind was clouded for Gatsby knew right away. He motioned

A Secret Love cont. Brie Williams for me to sit beside him on the couch. Once I sat down my body felt like it was held there by weights, every movement took so much energy. “Gatsby, I think you should go away for a while.” When I said this he set down the water and turned to look at me, his eyes felt like they were piercing my soul. He looked genuinely hurt, like a little kid who just got scolded by his mother. “Nick? I-I can’t leave you now, I’ve waited for this day since I met you. You- You are my happiness, when you smile, flowers bloom. The stars are dim compared to your eyes, and without you to brighten my day- I wouldn’t want to even imagine a world without you now.” His eyes became glossy and I had never seen Gatsby show weakness like this. I ripped my heart in two. “I’ll go with you.” I grabbed his hand with mine and kissed it. “I couldn’t bear for you to leave without me.” I smiled and let my head fall back against the cool leather cushion of the couch. I pulled Gatsby so he was sitting back and he slid his head to my chest. I remember my fingers curling into his hair for what seemed like hours before his breather became heavy and small snores escaped. I remember think of how I wanted this moment to stretch a lifetime, and then my eyelids got heavy and I joined Gatsby in sleep. I awoke to his lips brushing against my jaw, startled and still clinging to sleep I jumped away. Unsure of where I was I looked around and thoughts of last night flooded my head. I couldn’t believe that what had happened really occurred. When I locked eyes with Gatsby his eyes held sorrow. The beginning of dawn snuck through the curtains and a yawn escaped before he spoke. “I’m sorry old sport. I didn’t mean to wake you.” His eyes were pleading for forgiveness and I answered him by pressing my lips against the soft flesh of his cheek. I stood and extended my hand, offering him help up. He took it and followed me down the hall to my room. I opened the curtain and across the bay Daisy’s house sat menacingly. At the end of the dock the light no longer burned casting green shadows over the water. I closed the curtains quickly hoping for Gatsby not to see, I couldn’t bear to see him upset. He fell back onto the bed and stretched across it, while he kicked off his loafers. “Where do you want to go?” I stood at the foot of the bed and smiled down at him. He chuckled and pulled me down onto the bed beside him. “Absolutely nowhere.” His grin was bigger than I’d ever seen it and I couldn’t help but smiling just as big. “You know we have to go somewhere.” And then an idea struck me and Gatsby could tell because his eyes scrutinized my face. “Take me home,” I grinned even wider as I spoke, “ to North Dakota.” I could tell this caught him off guard. “Would it make you happy? To go there?” I nodded to respond and he leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. “Then we shall go.” He rolled over and stood up beside the bed. He looked down at me and I couldn’t tell if he was actually serious. Then that smirk appeared. “Well, get packing.” He chuckled and pulled me up off the bed. I packed lightly and quickly and followed him to next door, so he could retrieve his things. When we walked into his room we were hit with the smell of stale air and

A Secret Love cont. Brie Williams he grabbed a suitcase from under the bed. I scanned the room and found his beautiful satin shirts littering the floor from when Daisy began crying. Jealousy stabbed through my stomach and anger bubbled in my throat. I couldn’t understand how she could care so little for a man who would have given her anything she desired. I felt Gatsby’s hand slide onto my shoulder and he spun me to face him slowly. He looked happier than I ever remembered seeing him. He slipped his hand into mine. “Are you ready?” “I’ve never been more ready for anything else.” I pulled our hands up to my mouth and kissed the back of his softly. He lead me through his house and outside where a taxi waited. He pulled his hand out of mine as soon as we stepped through the door his hand jerked free of mine. It made my heart heavy but I understood, this was unacceptable in public, with the eyes constantly peeking from shadows. I followed him into the car and he spat instructions at the driver. “Train station.” He was curt. Anyone could hear by his tone he was anxious. The whole ride there his eyes scanned outside his window. I couldn’t figure out and haven’t been able to, even today, what was bothering him. So much had happened within the last twenty-four hours and anything was a possibility. When we arrived at the train station I got out of the car while Gatsby fished through his pocket for money to pay the driver. I wandered down the sidewalk and when Gatsby caught up he was chewing on his bottom lip and I could no longer contain my questioning. “What’s the matter?” He looked as if he were just pulled back to reality. “Just nervous I guess. I haven’t spoken to my parents since I was seventeen. “ Even though Gatsby was older than me, he felt so innocent and fragile in the moment and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. “It’ll be fine; I’ll be there with you. I’ll protect you from any kind of hurt. I promise.” I smiled to reinforce what I just spoke. “I know, and I for you.” He grabbed my bag from my hand and led us toward the train. I leaned closer towards him, my mouth inches from his mouth. “I love you James Gatz, with all of my heart.” With the sound of that he smiled, every sign of nerves disappeared and he looked into my eyes. “I love you too Nick Carraway.” His voice was sweet like honey and I could never and will never be happier than I was at that moment.

A Final Gatsby Meridian Ruby After all this time, it’s the ticking that reminds me of him most. The grandfather clock stopped at half past three. The slowing pendulum did not peak Gatsby’s interest. He was obviously a mess; pacing back and forth. He was not the Gatsby I knew. He had left a hasty message on my porch, asking me to come over as soon as I could. I took my time trying to rid myself of the memories of the day. At first I tried to draw myself a bath and wash the fear away, but the lingering thought of Gatsby alone kept swimming in my head. After a few moments I abandoned the idea that I would return to normal anytime soon. I made my way to his house. The usual lush lawn had been touched by the angel of decay. The rose bushes near the gate had completely withered away into oblivion. The metal itself looked as if it had aged several years in just a few hours; rust was slowly creeping over the glistening bars. My eyes were immediately drawn to the pool. Leaves from the surrounding trees had made a scab over the water, leaving only a few precious spaces clear of debris. I stepped over the dying roses and made my way down the stone pathway towards his doorway. I knocked twice when Gatsby opened the door. He had bags under his eyes, and his award winning smile now seemed forced, as if it pained him to smile at all. His golden hair was just as disheveled as his shirt, which was wrinkled and un-tucked. A small muscle twitch was the only hint of acknowledgement he gave me before he retreated into his home, leaving the door wide open. I will admit at this time I was more than slightly worried, I was in a full scale panic. First Mrs. Wilson, now Gatsby. I was praying for this day to end. The sound of fabric shifting alerted me of his location. He slumped into the sunshine yellow couch making his flesh take on a grayish hue. “What’s wrong?” He opened his ice blue eyes, looking me over with slight disdain. My gut wrenched; something else horrible had to have happened. I raised my eyebrow, trying to hide the stabbing pain in my heart from that damned glare. “What?” He sighed and reached over to pour two glasses of whiskey. Two? It had to have been worse than I thought. “I’m tired, old sport.” He tipped his head back and let the liquid slide down his throat. He looked over at me with the expression of a broken man. “I don’t follow.” I ignored the glass he had pushed closer to me. “It’s over. It’s done. She’s…gone.” He poured himself another glass and finished it just as fast as the first. “Who, Myrtle?” I could tell he was slowly slipping from reality, his eyes were already glassed over, the man was not used to alcohol consumption in the least. “D…Daisy” He slurred her name, closing his eyes tightly to hide the tears that had been welling up from the start. “She’s…She’s gone. Up and left.” My eyes drifted past the frozen pendulum and to the window where Daisy’s lights once were. Now only darkness met my gaze. I felt a chuckle find its way out of my throat. Of course

A Final Gatsby cont. Meridian Ruby she would run. She always did, even as a child. She left tears in her wake then as well. Gatsby struggled to get to his feet; I rushed to give him something to grasp. Almost immediately his legs fell out from under him. I helped him regain balance and stumble up the stairs towards his bed. I never realized how heavy a person could be, but once we reached the middle of the landing he was completely gone, so that lesson was to be learned quickly. Once I put him to bed I had trouble maneuvering in the pitch black room. It didn’t even occur to me to wonder how late it was. I made my way down the stairs and into the living room. I was not about to leave him alone again, especially after this. At first, I tried to sleep on the couch in the living room, but the window into the void perturbed me too much, so I moved to a guest room close to Gatsby’s quarters. The quiet of the house was unsettling, but I could still hear a hint of the pendulum swing, bringing breaths of life to the minute hand. It was slowing even more now, but I was alert enough to hear a pin drop. I was too nervous, too upset to let the darkness lull me into a false sense of security. My body was wide awake, every nerve pulsing as one, my mind however, was dead. Too many details to think about. The screech, and the look of paint smeared across the pavement, then that moment when intrigue changed to horror. I recognized a face in the smear, or what had once been a face. The images swam together until I started to drift off to sleep. I awoke with Gatsby standing in the doorway. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days, but then again I’m sure the hangover didn’t help. “ What the hell are you doing?” I yelped with a start. He blushed, it was a shade I had never seen before, and never will again. “I’m sorry, old sport. I was just about to wake you, it’s late.” He chuckled in embarrassment and headed down the stairs. I threw the covers off of me, I realized I hadn’t bothered to get undressed, I was too shaken. I scoffed as I saw my polished shoes slide out from under the comforter. A bang in the kitchen woke me from my slight trance. I rushed downstairs. Gatsby was holding a bowl above his head while he searched under the counter. “What are you doing?” I thought I hadn’t woken up. Gatsby, cooking? He grinned, holding the bowl and a fresh bag of flour. “Breakfast! It seems rude to have a guest over and not take care of them.” “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” I squeaked “Nonsense, old sport. I’m sure I have some plates around here-” “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay too long,.” I needed time to myself, I needed time away from anyone involved in the madness that was yesterday. The look on his face when I denied him was enough to make my heart break. Had I known what the future held, I would have stayed. “No, no. It’s fine. I was thinking I would just go for a swim anyway.” He smiled, trying to hide any expression of disappointment. I pretended I didn’t notice

A Final Gatsby cont. Meridian Ruby and made my way to the door. He waved good bye, then turned to put away the dishes. I grimaced and took a deep breath. The door closed silently behind me, I had only figured out it closed when I heard Gatsby turn the lock. The sound of Gatsby physically closing himself off made me tear up, but I knew I had to get out. It wasn’t Gatsby I was avoiding. Really, it was the fact that he had been there when Daisy sped up. I felt guilty for thinking that Gatsby could have tried to stop it. I spent what felt like eternity arguing with myself about Gatsby’s role. Eventually both sides came to a consensus that I should not have left. Somehow, I didn’t care. I knew it was wrong, that I should run back to him; promise that I would always be with him. I just didn’t have it in me. I made it halfway down the stone path before I turned around. I don’t know what possessed me to, even to this day. Maybe I heard a twig snap. Maybe I really was going to turn back and comfort my friend. I wish maybes mattered. Off in the distance I saw something glimmering in the light. At first I thought it had to be the pool’s sparkling waters. Then I remembered the ugly state of the yard. That was the moment I knew something terrible would happen. I turned on my heel and bolted to the gate. Gatsby was lounging in the only clear section of the pool. He turned his head to the bushes and gave a sad smile to a man in the shadows. I moved closer, trying not to alert the shadowed man that someone else was there. At the time I didn’t know what the glint was. I didn’t know that a simple pull of a trigger could change everything and nothing at the same time. I didn’t know how loud a gunshot was. I didn’t know what a man begging for death out of guilt sounded. I didn’t know what being dead inside yet still alive felt like. I wish I still had the innocence to be able to say these were still mysteries. “I’m so sorry, Wilson. Please forgive me.” a hushed sob echoed through the dead grass. Tears slid down Gatsby’s face. “It’s all my fault…” and then the quiet moan when the realization hit. Life would never be normal again. Gatsby would always have this scar in his mind, it would never fade. In his mind he would always be to blame and nothing anyone said would stop it. He tried drowning out the thoughts in liquor, but that hadn’t worked as well as Dan Cody made him think it would. There was just no other way. “Gatsby!” I screamed as I took off towards the pool. He didn’t acknowledge me, his mind was made up. He sat up on the water mattress and closed his eyes. “Nick, stay away.” He shouted back towards me. Wilson’s aim snapped to my chest. His hands were shaking. He was so consumed with hatred and despair that aiming wouldn’t really matter, he would just try again anyway. “Wilson! It doesn’t have to be like this… you don’t have to…” I pleaded and begged. I was sobbing. “Please don’t do this.” Slowly, Gatsby turned to face me. He gave me the same tired smile. “It’s ok, Nick. It’s going to be alright” “Like hell it will be!” I started towards Wilson, who in return pulled the hammer back. “Wilson, please.” I started to sob, and I hated myself for it. “It’s ok. I want it to be this way.” Gatsby muttered in soothing tones. He looked back at the trembling Wilson. “I deserve it.”

A Final Gatsby cont. Meridian Ruby

The sound from such a tiny thing shouldn’t be able to change so much. Red started to swirl in the water, It reminded me of the dancers at the parties. Slow and graceful, spinning into oblivion. A hollow thunk resonated through the yard at the exact same time as a splash. I saw Gatsby pushed back into the pool, and slowly watched him sink down. I don’t think I could process it, I think that was why I hadn’t reacted faster. Eventually I dove into the pool trying to scoop him into my arms. He was limp when I pulled him to the surface, but I could tell he was still cognizant. I scrambled to the surface, maybe I could save him. The grass crackled under us, I cradled him in my arms, trying to make him respond. His eyes flickered in and out of focus. “Gatsby…” his eyelids opened slowly, as if his lashes were heavy weights. “You’re worth the whole damn bunch of them” I whispered. His mouth twitched into a slight smile. “It’s ok… old sport.” all of his muscles became loose at the exact same time. I knew then that Gatsby was gone; that my maybes didn’t count for anything.

“Emotions to Words” Gabi Fisher I don’t know what to do with these emotions, so I write them down. They flow as words in ink from my pen, but just as the tide rests and the pen stops flowing, another wave hits me, crushing me with it’s weightless burden, and I have no choice but to put pen to page, lest my emotions wash their way through my body, crawling with claws made of my insecurities, through my chest, up my throat, and out my mouth, to force my lips to merge with the noise, and release the scream I try so desperately to keep inside “Remembrance” Gabi Fisher A few names scribbled down on Crumbling stone, a broken Remembrance So many lost their lives, But Time wipes away Their very existence By swiping those who would Remember throughout the centuries, Surrendering them to Death

“I Am Broken” Gabi Fisher I am broken, yet I can’t help But to feel guilt, for what have I gone through compared to those I love? How can I claim to be broken when they still stand before me, eyes pained but backs ever strong? I am a product of my own sins, Clutching my heart in the darkness makes me shatter I am artificially broken, but I know I have no right to be and this breaks me further But I can’t help Knowing the truth: I broke myself “Tomorrow, Today, and Yesterday” Gabi Fisher Tomorrow is the hero That didn’t come until it was Too late It’s the pen That ends the war It’s the call That halts the storm It’s the righteous man reborn Today is the villain That manipulates The population Its corrupt politicians It’s the cry for war Its prejudice and hate Yesterday is the bystander Letting history Slip away It’s the unnecessary battle It’s the mistrial without Reconsideration It’s the government cover-up Tomorrow, Today, and Yesterday Turning lies into truth It’s all just become reality

“My Truth” Gabi Fisher There’s a darkness here, Deep inside of me That burns like the fires of hell Every time my eyes glimpse them And I know it’s unfair, Every one of them is kind, A beautiful person in their own right, But every glance is another blow, Etching this darkness into my soul And I’m so scared, I don’t want this here So I pretend I’m ok, that I don’t feel this way, And my façade is secure But then I see one and again it starts And for a moment, just a moment, It slips and reveals the crack in my heart- The one you could see if you really wanted- But then I regain control, so desperate To keep you from seeing the real me, You would never know- On the surface the darkness doesn’t show But here in the deep it’s all consuming, Can you see it in my eyes? Do my actions betray me? Can you see the darkness in me? ‘Cause I know how despicable I really am Petty jealousy fills and breaks me And in this solitude I’ve never felt so alone But this is supposed to be me confessing to you, So here I go; These things I feel, this pain I endure It’s no one’s fault but my own, this I know So to all of them, I want to say I’m sorry If ever I was cold to you or mean in any way, It’s not because you deserved it, But because I let the darkness grow So if you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, I promise I’ll try to banish my darkness And live in my light

"Champions" Ishy Sunny Singh Champions are not born. Champions are not destined. Champions are not chosen. Champions are forged. Champions do not rest. Champions do not give up. Champions do not let up. Champions stay at it. Champions never complain. Champions never make an excuse. Champions never cry. Champions just do it. Champions do not fear. Champions do not quit. Champions do not lose their self-esteem. Champions keep believing and persevere. I'm a champion, are YOU? “Dead Mind” Mariah Schaefer I am looking straight ahead, Trying to find inspiration. Nothing gets into my head; I am filled with frustration. I am starting to get mad With the lack of cooperation, And I think it might be bad To make another modification. I am thinking about desisting. I have no more hope, But my brain keeps resisting. For the pencil, my fingers grope. Now an idea pops into my head But like many others goes away. I’m starting to think that my mind’s dead; And that’s the way it’s going to stay.

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