365 Days
by Shannon H., Lula, GA
Twelve months remain -
without your face, though its structure
is stenciled in my mind.
Eleven times each day -
your ghost creeps down the hall
leaving hints of your existence.
Ten hours ago -
I heard the gentle tones
echoing in my empty room.
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A Bad Morning
by Angela S., S. Plainfield, NJ
It was a tiresome morning. For some reason, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep. I hopped from my cold bed onto the even colder floor, grabbed my clothes, got dressed, and reached for my purple Party City name tag.
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Brandon's Note
by Lindsay B., New City, NY
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Code 13
by Anonymous ., KY
"Code 13 for carry out. Code 13," squawked the intercom. Another call to help someone. Pushing carts is hard enough, but having to deal with customers is unbearable.
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Holocaust Memories
by Ashley M., Centreville, MI
Approaching the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., I thought it wasn't going to be a big deal. We had visited many museums and I had a typical 14-year-old's reaction to them ... boredom.
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Integrity
by Emily J., Rock Island, IL
Most students make their way through high school working a part-time job and I am no exception. My experience with work, however, is probably a little different from most.
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Life in the Day of a Cursed Freshman
by Liz L., Cape Girardeau, MO
I am cursed. Nobody told me I was but I know it because there is no way a normal teenager could go through what I did on my first day of high school and not be cursed. That's all there is to it!
It started in geometry, first hour.
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More Than Money Collectors
by Catherine C., Qunicy, MA
We are a strong and hardy bunch. We are those who must be polite no matter what kind of fuss you make when you try to pass off coupons for items you didn't buy.
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My Education in Cake Baking
by Kelly S., Quincy, MA
School had been out for two weeks and I had spent my first free days after freshman year sleeping late, talking on the phone and watching soap operas. I was too old for summer camp and too young to drive a car.
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Nine Crooked Months
by Cecilia C., Antioch, CA
It's been nine crooked months since I started outat this crumbling drug store by the muddy river, shaky in its foundation. Anddespite it all, I don't want to leave, but I am. Because for me, nine months wasa year, the time between 16and 17.
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On Finding a Job
by Stephanie M., Norwell, MA
I was 16, and suddenly school had come to an end. The weather was amazing every day, and each night was like Friday, meaning the later I could stay out, the better.
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Pia
by Nicona K., Boulder Creek, CA
On November 8, 2003, I stood with a microphone in one hand and my new partner's leash in the other. Standing in front of a large audience, I tried to gather my thoughts to make my speech.
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Retail
by Laura L., Herndon, VA
To work retail is to learn humility. September 18 marked one full year that I worked at Wilson's Leather as a sales associate. If you walk into my store, I will be waiting to whisk you off in search of the leather coat of your dreams.
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Retirement
by Jordan J., Clarence Center, NY
As I walk through the automatic doors of the independent living community, I enter a pleasant foyer with a fireplace and comfortable couches and chairs. Many of the elderly residents chat and sip coffee.
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Revelation at the Lunch le
by Anonymous ., Hamilton, OH
For a few seconds I put my head down and relax the tension in my shoulders. Maybe I'll forget the test I failed or the college I didn't get into. The scent of mashed potatoes and peanut butter sandwiches fight through the lunch ladies' disinfectant.
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The Man
by Kevin W., Leawood, KS
Holding the stick, he knew the lives of 200 people rested in the movements of his hands.
There are many high-pressure, high-stress jobs out there, and being an airplane pilot is one of them.
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Turquoise Tights
by Christine S., Arlington, VA
It's Monday
Silver shirt
Billowing black skirt
Always black
Her spectrum's slim, anorexic
It's her mood maybe
Owls and stars
Today's Tuesday
Turquoise tights
Tattered ones
Holes allow a peek of her flesh
White legs
Cadaverous almost
But she's not ...
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When The Smoke Cleared
by Laura M., E. Amherst, NY
Smoke from her cigarette curled up around her head. A decrepit fan in the corner of the dusty lounge tossed the smoke to the cobwebbed ceiling, disappearing in the heat.
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Why?
by Christopher G., Shreveport, LA
In this time of trouble we ask, "Why are we in Iraq, why do our soldiers fight, and why do our brothers die?" Everybody seems to have a different answer.
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