Mia Maurer

Grade: 12

Mayfield High School

Instructor: Kari Beery

The Vase

Poetry

The Vase

It started with a budding relationship
Between two tied-together souls
The blossoming between a grandmother and her granddaughter
Starting with the mornings when the young girl was woken early to see the sunrise
Or when the grandma taught the girl the joys of dancing with daisies outside
Or the countless nights' dinner was on the table steaming hot
Their connection was blooming,
From that very moment, the young girl's mother was nowhere to be found.
Since then she'd tell her
¨My precious flower,
I'll always be around¨

But the grandmother knew,
That that wouldn't always be true
'cause the hourglass was running out of sand.
So soon after she took plaster,
And made a pretty polished piece of pottery by hand.

The vase, overflowing with peonies, wisteria, and tulips
Filled the living room with Grandma's warmth and grace
The young girl
a golden petal plucked from the sun
A green stem rooted in the world
Tied together to the turned clay of vibrant hue
Her new independence challenging her worldview

Soon there would be a new budding relationship
between two lonely souls
The blossoming between a girl and her lover
A connection rediscovered
Tangled by the intertwined stems
Of her grandmother's end

A boy hovers around her,
Like a bee to a flower.
Wooing her with bouquets
sunlight into her shade
His vase chipped and jagged
But he was still a shoulder to cry on
When days were ragged

¨Oh you're going to the store,
Let me come too.
How I just can't stand to be away from you.
You don't look too well
Should we stay in tonight?
You don't want people to think you're not doing alright
My darling daisy,
Your falling off the wagon
The way your feeling is not valid¨
Those simple phrases,
That slipped right off the tongue
Just like that bee,
They stung and they stung

You see, she was his darling daisy
That he was proud to have picked
And he pressed her petals in order to keep her perfect
Oh how he would show,
Show her off to all his friends
His prized perfect flower,
And he was the vase she was stuck in

And in these times of pain,
When her petals were pierced
And her leaves would tear
She'd turn to her grandma's vase for care
Hands folder to the potted cross
Wrapped in her grandma's presence even when lost
But she never did find her way
Because even after his worst days,
of gaslighting, games, and craze.
she let her boyfriend stay

Arguments and hurtful remarks
darkened her leaves
thorns pierced deeper and deeper
until her skin would bleed
The flowery girl that was once as gold as honey
And just as sweet to the eyes
Was rotting at her core,
The brittle petals breaking all the time

The budding relationship between a grandmother and her young
Was fading away
The flowers in the vase were never shown the time of day.
These two tied-together souls,
Deprived of nurture and tenderness
We're losing themselves
And their connection

The vase now watches the girl face harsh measures
Instead of enjoying life's simple pleasures
Because that budding relationship,
Between those two outcasts
turned toxic,
And the girl realized it at last

With a backpack slung over her shoulder
And her precious vase in hand
With the strength, her grandma taught her,
Her lost angelic friend.
She began on her way,
When she thought her boyfriend was gone for the day

But the boy had his suspensions,
So he laid in wait
Ready to pounce on the young girl as if she was prey
When she walked out the door,
He pushed her right back in,
And right then the end would begin.

His hand held her throat,
And pushed her back against the wall
She clawed at his eyes,
Hoping that would lead to his downfall.
It loosened his grip,
So she took the chance to slip away.
She ran towards the door,
Praying she'd escape the betray

But when freedom reached her fingertips
And the doorknob was in hand
He grabbed her ankle
And made her body collapse
In one last desperate attempt to prove his dominance
He snatched the vase from the girl's hands
And in a quick flick,
Broke it on her head.

The shattered pieces of pottery
Laid all over the floor
The blood staining the pieces,
The vase is no more.

The young girl
Now made into her very own vase
An urn where she'd be trapped until the world's final days
But at least in the end,
The vault where she'd stay
Is the one beside where her grandma is displayed

The two tied-together souls,
Together at last.
Relationship in full bloom on heaven's grass.

Kingstown's Killings

Short Story

Kingstown's Killings

Annamarie Giovanni, August 5th, 2018.
The thorn-ridden shrubs pierce my legs as I hurry through his backyard, drawing blood to the surface of my skin. Like a maze, The never-ending woods he calls home seems to have no exit. "One foot in front of the other, you can make it, you can make it." I mumble to myself, in hopes that it'll give my tireless feet a boost of motivation. But, I could still hear this nameless man getting closer and closer to me by the sounds of his steps. He's bigger, he's faster, he's stronger, and doesn't have the pulsing aches spreading from a crowbar wound on the back of his skull. The deceitful predator, who hides in these very woods, will pounce on its prey. Killing me.

Jessica Miller, August 18th, 2018.
He came to my doorstep, white roses in his hand and a sparkly smile spread ear to ear. Khakis and a button-up, buttoned a little too high. He's shifting his weight from foot to foot, as he fusts with his glasses. His curly brown hair covers one of the lenses, always delightfully messy. His lips touched mine, softly, quickly, hesitantly as he pushes past me to the kitchen table to set down our food. Fleming steakhouse always gets me my favorite! I start to set the food onto plates, as he poured me a glass of champagne. "Cheers to us babe!" I say taking my first sip. "Cheeeeers to u-" My body collapses to the ground, slurring my words as my vision turned blurry. My beloved, rushed over to help me. Or, no. No. How could he, no! He- My arms stayed glued to the floor, as my legs are tied to the ground with unimaginable weight. My eyes roll back in my head as I see my last sight, my love holding a blood-covered steak knife. I realized at the first swing of that knife, that my man was never mine, but just a monster hunting me.

Samantha Sarasoda, September 1st, 2018
"You'll be a beautiful bride!" keeps playing on repeat in my head. All I can think about is my fiance whispering this in my ear while we lay in bed. A beautiful bride, A beautiful bride, a beautiful life thrown away the moment he started sneaking out every night. Every Morning, his boots are covered in drying mud from his nightly outings. He's so foolish to think I haven't followed his tracks, through the path in the trees and over the fence, to our neighbor's front steps. But, I just don't know how to leave him yet.
"You only asked to buy me a drink, I'm Sor-'' He cut me off before I could apologize for my ill-timed rant about my failing love life.
"No, don't apologize. I know what it's like to have a lot of demons on your mind." He had a charming smile when he spoke, the type that middle school girls daydreamed about when they were in class. But, his eyes were serious, controlled, holding onto every word I said. The same way my fiance looked at me, the night we met.
He kept feeding me drinks, as we threw darts at the worn-down board in this run-down bar. Then, just like that, I was hanging on a stranger's arm for the rest of the night. And heading to his place to crash. Little did I know, I'd be closing my eyes for their final rest.

Jackson Harrison, September 3rd, 2018 @9:54 PM
"You think that I would do that! That I would kill her! Look, I cheated on her, I know what I did was fucked on so many levels. But, I love Sammy. And I would never, could never, hurt her." The officers glared across from me as if they could see me picking her apart. I closed my eyes hoping that when I opened them, this would all be just a dream. But instead, when I opened them, I still see the haunting pictures of her dismembered, bloody body as they lay in front of me. She was torn to shreds by a monster, left for vultures to prey on her. "I love her, please. I loved her."

Neil Dunn, Chief of Police, September 3rd, 2018 @10:13 PM
"He couldn't have done this, he shows too much remorse and his mistress confirmed his alibi. There are also alibis for all the other victims. He's a scumbag, but he's not a killer." I glanced at my lead detective, his face was pale and his eyes were red. Probably a mixture of the lack of sleep and his newly increased levels of fear. "Chief, we have an uh a serial killer on our hands, and uh no- no suspects."
"I know, we need to alert the media before this gets out. Call a press conference."
I walked to the podium, the victims' bloody images pushed up against the edge of my brain. Watching the sea of cameras start to roll, I begin to explain the dark details nagging me. "Annamarie Giovanni, Jessica Miller, and Samantha Sarasoda were victims of what we believe…"

Megan Smith, September 3rd @10:15 PM
¨That's just horrible" I say as I power off the tv. "Good thing I have you to protect me!" I say, wrapping my arms around my boyfriend's chest, and laying my head on his back to plant a kiss. Luke stayed still, staring at the black screen in front of him. "Babe, are you ok?" I spin myself around him to look at him, still holding him in my embrace. "Babe?" His eyes were blank as he stared at himself in the tv's reflection. His breaths came out in heavy bursts as if only at the last second he remembered to breathe causing a push to finally leave his lungs. "Babe!" He shook from his trance, snapping back into reality. "Meg uh I'm- gonna go do work uh in my shed. Don't bother me." His hostile tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But, His feet carried him quickly out the back door. Before I could say anything, he was heading to his hideaway.
I followed him there, letting each step I take to decide if I should open the doors I am not allowed to enter into. Something is clearly upsetting him, and what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't provide a shoulder to cry on? I opened the door, without knocking, so he couldn't push me away. "Luke babe, I just came to-" My muscles tensed, leaving me frozen in my tracks. There's blood smeared on his workbench, on his tools, on knives, and on pictures of the three girls I think I saw on tv, dead. He was staring at me, with his blank eyes and a rope in hand. "Hm. Meg, My meg. I told you to never ever come. in. here." He interchanged the rope between his crackled hands, flaunting it. "You should have listened" He smiled a deranged smile, with the same blank dead eyes I saw in the house just moments before. "Then, maybe just maybe, would I have let you live."

Neil Dunn, Chief of Police, September 3rd @10:53 PM
"I need men searching the house, the perimeter of the land, and surrounding the shed now!" The swirling blue and red lights and shrieking alarm coming from the street didn't shift my focus. I kept my eyes locked on the shed door and my finger over my gun's trigger. Ready to enter a monster's lair. "Nobody shoots until we find Megan Smith! She is our only priority!" The 911 call plays an ongoing loop in my mind. Repeatedly sending chills down my spine, every time I hear the glass-shattering scream from that sweet innocent girl. I couldn't help but let my mind run with the different ideas of what happened to her. I had SWAT stay close behind me, ready for whatever is to come. My foot made its way through the dirty white shed door, thinking that I was ready for the worse. It's not often that your stomach churns on the job after working it for over two decades. But the horrors that I saw behind that door, will haunt me for the rest of my life.