by Richard


Fall is approaching us, I calmly imagine myself in a forest of many vivid colors, some bright and some dull. Shades of all types of colors, red, green, yellow, orange, all have a interconnection to them that makes all these colors come into harmony. At first glance, without ever experiencing fall, one might describe the colors in fall as chaotic, with no possible way of fitting together nicely. However, I don’t see fall as something disordered, in fact, quite the contrary. I can envision fall as a time of peacefulness, a time of serene environments, and, most importantly, a time of astounding scenery.

Massive trees would stand above us; each one giving off a divine feel of grandeur. They stand like the legs of giants. The leaves would fall like angels gliding down from heaven. Their colors would be the brightest colors you can imagine. Suddenly, my eyes open, bringing me back into the completely different world of summer. Instead, the royal green dominates, and somehow, I’m surrounded by the kingdom of the green. And soon, it seems that every single plant is infected with the vast body of this color. The color itself represents life, as explained from the lush plants and greenery that circles me. The trees burst with existence, from the tree and its healthy bark, to the chipmunks scavenging around near the leaves.

forestEven as I admire nature so immensely, it would be a shame not to mention the beautiful sun, blistering with blinding rays of pure radiance, bouncing off the green kingdom itself. The plants seem to living on their own, living their lives peacefully as nature and its wildlife nurture it. Even with humanity’s worst disasters and destructive power, plants still manage to thrive. When we humans did the first nuclear bomb test, we passed the threshold. Thus, resulting in even more dangerous tests, leading to even more destructive bombs that could take peaceful and bustling cities of beautifully done pieces of architecture to unrecognizable ashes. Afterward, after all of our thirst for complete annihilation, nature doesn’t care. It does not hold grudges for wiping out all its kin and making peaceful rolling hills into barren wastelands of radiation.

Nature doesn’t try to interfere in any sort of way with people, it simply tries to thrive, no matter the circumstances. Even in harsh fallout, nature will somehow, in some way, get back on its feet. On the contrary, some plants may have physical


 attributes that make them so unpleasant, such as self-defense thorns, poison, and overall deadliness; but ifsomeone were to be careful enough, they can be mostly avoided. Except, this is a very minor reason. Plants have always helped humanity by providing materials for us; wood, sticks, stems, but yet we take these materials for granted. Destroying habitats and entire environments for urban and rural construction, cutting down wood for excessive use, and other activities show that we think of plants as a necessity that is always accessible. Their beauty, their usage, everything, these earliest forms of life need to be appreciated, so that way, we can let our future generations see trees.

Short Story: Oblivion – Jay

Oblivion is a collection of stories co-written and edited by the Literature Team

Part 3: JAY

By Faith W. & Eric Z.


“Phyllis? Are you there?” Jay Rodriguez called out into the house. The shuffling of footsteps from the kitchen grew louder and louder, and the door opened to reveal a woman with a beaming smile enveloping her face, wearing an apron over a traditional Mexican dress.

“Hijo! How was school?” The woman said as she dusted her hands on her apron.

“Ah, the usual, nothing interesting.” Jay responded as he dropped his heavy backpack on the ground with a resounding clunk.

Phyllis had known the Rodriguez household ever since they moved into the neighborhood a couple years ago. Before Jay could care for himself alone, Phyllis had offered to care for him when his parents weren’t home. Over time, mother-son love developed between the two, and Jay had grown fond of her like you would a relative.

“I got some fresh mushrooms–They’re pesticide free, non-GMO, additive free, low fat, USDA approved, and grown by local farmers! They were a gift from a local farmer whom I buy from often. They were at my door this morning when I went for a walk, which was strange since they never deliver, even when I call them and ask for a special delivery… Anyway, how was your day Jay?”

Jay was used to Phyllis’s spontaneous rambling and let her go on. “It was fine,” he replied.

“Really? Well that’s great! Do you know what’s not great? Your hair—It’s overgrown and looks like my mushrooms. I can fix that for you easily, I learned this trick from a friend. Do you want me to try it on you? I haven’t exactly honed my hairdressing skills, but it’ll look great on you–you are so handsome no matter what!”

As Phyllis rambled off, Jay’s attention slowly shifted from Phyllis’s chatter to his plans for the rest of the day.

Short Story: Oblivion – Vivianne

Oblivion is a collection of stories co-written and edited by the Literature Team



By Clare H.

“Why is it that when I need to get home, it’s always pitch black and I can’t see any more than ten feet in front of me?”

I heard Em laugh over the phone. “How unlucky you can get is the real question here, Vivianne.”

I sighed, and held my phone out in front me, watching the bluish glow pierce the darkness. “Honestly, I have no clue. Anyway, how’s golf?”

“It’s been pretty good, I guess. I won first place in that tournament about two weeks ago, but it was a smaller competition. Are you almost home?”

I seemed to be in some sort of alley; the streets were unpaved, and there were trash bins and some haphazardly placed electrical lines. A little light filtered through the various buildings, and I could hear the sound of cars rushing on the highway.

“I think I’m really close to the highway. That means I’m sort of close to the apartment.”

Emily sighed. “About time. Are you still sure that you don’t need my parents to come pick you up? I mean, they’re pretty close…”

I smiled. Emily, considerate as always. “No, I’m fine. My apartment is only so far anyway.”

“Okay, but be careful…I guess I’ll talk to you just to make sure get there.”

“Aw, I love you too!”
Emily groaned at my comment.


Short Story: Oblivion – Simon

Oblivion is a collection of stories co-written and edited by the Literature Team


Part 1: SIMON

By Varsha V.


The echo of his footsteps rang through the empty hallway.

He sighed as he steadily walked up the stairs, two at a time. The school was mostly deserted in the morning, but Simon enjoyed that. He wasn’t one to be a crowd lover.

The double doors creaked as he pushed them open, revealing the school’s library and the elderly woman sitting at the back desk.

“Good morning, Mrs. Merriwether, I’m back.”

“Oh, hello, Simon. Back already? Did you finish that book you picked up?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t put it down. Got anything else for me?”

“Why don’t you check this one out?” She said, holding out a book, which could be no less than 4 inches thick with a dark, navy blue cover.

He smiled, glanced at the back and checked it out, not questioning the choice, knowing Mrs. Merriwether had great taste in books.

“Is it okay to ask what the book is about?”

“Hm….well, it’s one of those books where if I tell you what it’s about, I will most likely spoil the entire story, so why don’t you just read it and enjoy.”

Simon let out a hearty laugh. “Okay then. I better get started.”
With final goodbyes, Simon briskly walked out, almost at a jogging pace, as the morning bell rang and school began.

Poem: The Ghosts

By: Nandhini

What lingers in the dark is unknown to most

The inaudible footsteps

The swish of the curtains

As they walk amongst us like great kings of the past

The ghosts,

The ghosts

Are here to haunt


And as one comes upon

The realization

That there is a presence

A presence amongst him

That has come into existence

Without his knowledge

And without his awareness

The ghosts,

The ghosts

Are here to haunt


The sudden stopping and beating of heart

The painful chill shooting up the spine

The signs of fear are too many to count

When one becomes self-conscious and aware

Of the apparitions existing in his peaceful dwelling

To which he knows that there is no telling

When the ghost will strike

Or overwhelm his psych

He realizes that the rumors were true

He realizes that his doubts were true

The ghosts,

The ghosts

are here to haunt

They will not cease until they’ve achieved their goal

Their ultimate last attempt to be

The ghosts,

The ghosts

are here to haunt

For that is their sole and only duty

To which they will follow with no avail