by Daniel Carmona
Born in a middle class family wasn't my choice, You see, with this status in life, we have no voice, You don't even hear us, when we make noise. So tell me, is it my fault? Is it my fault that I don't have money for college? Those rich kids do, but they don't even acknowledge. Money shouldn't be stopping me from getting my knowledge. So tell me, is it my fault? My son will also be stuck in a middle class, because my father was too. The rich kids don't have to worry, they have a grandfather to got to. Their life is set, they will be provided with a million or two. So tell me, is it my fault? You see, Middle class here is poverty elsewhere. Countries like India, Africa are destined to go nowhere Because for them, just like us, life is not fair. So tell me, is it their fault? Walking down my white neighborhood, they all stare at me, It's because I'm not a white man, can’t you see? Because in society, there is no word call equality. So tell me is it my fault? You are scared of immigrants, I'm scared of your mentality For once, try facing their everyday reality Stop with this social stratification, let's live in unity So we can all say it together: It's not our fault. Daniel is a nice, understanding, and humble person. He likes to meet new people. He will be attending Raritan Valley Community College in the Fall.
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A performance poem by
Bobo Au-Yeung, Ashley, Megan Baab Bobo: Columbine, April 20, 1999. Ashley: Sandy Hook, December 14, 2012. Megan: Parkland, February 14, 2018. Bobo: Two months before, I told my mother, “I’m not shy anymore.” And I wonder, Why, now, two months after I said those words Can somebody answer? Answer this question of why I had to leave with a herd Of 14 other people, Two of whom caused this mess. I faded away like a weak maple tree, Chopped down because there was less land Than wanted by greedy hands at 11:20. Ashley: “Bye mom, Bye dad, I LOVE YOU!” Skipping to my bus, Ready to see my friends. 9:30am, the doors locked. Shots fired “don’t scream” “Mom, Dad?” Kids crying, 20 friends dead, 6-7 years old. 6 teachers, protecting my and others lives. “POP” one last shot, he was dead. Firehouse is where we went, Parents crying, Kids crying. “MOM, DAD I so scared.” “Its okay honey.” Megan: Valentine’s Day. A day where love is celebrated And shared between family and friends. Where we hold our loved ones close And appreciate the bonds we share. So why was this day filled with so much hate? Gunshots fired, Sending everyone into a panic. Questions speed through our heads, Will my friends be safe? Will I be safe? For some, unfortunately, The answer was no. STOP! Bobo: We ask for peace in this world, But we can’t have it if this keeps happening. Ashley: We are losing lives, Not knowing when we are next. Megan: We should not have to fear going to school, Our families shouldn’t have to worry whenever we leave. This has to end. Megan is very creative and enjoys producing multiple forms of art. She writes, draws, and plays piano. She enjoys contributing to Epiphany and helping out with it as much as she can. Bobo is self-described as "a Taurus-- pretty stubborn and not the most mature; pretty indecisive about a lot of things." She is also pretty determined when she makes up her mind. She likes asking looping, confusing questions and baking cookies. Ashley is a student in Ms. Barbour's Poetry Today class. She likes math. [This assignment was originally written for a Performance Poetry Assignment in the Poetry Today Elective.] by Jac SLB
I watch through the glass of the room as Agent Caste circles around the suspect. I pick up the nilla file and do a quick skim through the basics. It’s a female. Age twenty-five. Caucasian. Shoulder length brown hair. Brown eyes. Curved scar over left eye. Accused of defacing government property and murder. No liable evidence. Name....unknown. “Hey,” I call to the technician, “let me hear them.” He rolls in his chair and presses a red button and suddenly I can hear everything they’re saying in the room. Caste tosses a group of photos onto the table. They slide to the front of the suspect who glances at them once before looking unamused. “You are in every single one of these photos. Now, it can’t be a coincidence because these date back to the 18th century.” Caste barks. The suspect nodded and made no motion to say anything. They simply examined the handcuff that tied them to the chair. They’re up to something. I can feel it, but I can’t tell what. “I’d like to know exactly who you are,” Caste said . He leaned on the table with his palms flat on the table. His eyes bore into the suspect waiting for them to crack under the glare. The suspect seemed unfazed by the pressure and yawned. They rattled the handcuff a bit before stopping. I stared at the handcuff to check if it was loose but it was as tight as it could be. “Answer me!” Caste yelled. He seemed as if he was getting restless. He’s never this jumpy. Something caught my attention above him and I waited for it to happen again. “Did you see that?” I muttered. I look at the technician. “See what?” He asked with his mouth full of food. I purse my lips and shake my head. It might’ve just been a figment of my imagination. My nerves are just--. The light! It’s just the light. It’s flickering. I look at Caste and can’t believe my eyes. He’s sweating like crazy! His jacket lay on the floor and his shirt has four unbuttoned buttons. On his blue shirt, you can see sweat stains trail down his back and his armpits. Someone needs to check on him. The handcuff starts jingling again. “Caste? Caste!” I yell out to him, forgetting that he can’t hear me. I get ready to open the door and held him when someone held on to me. “Get off! I need to help Caste!” I yell to whoever touched me. I try to open the door but a hand rests on it. “Let me do it,” a gruff male voice says behind him. I grip the door handle as hard as I can until my knuckles turn white. “Let someone stronger go inside in case it’s serious.” My head darts into his direction and I stare into Agent Heines’ eyes. “You better get your hand off of me before I put a bullet in it,” I hissed. Heines just gripped onto it harder and harder. I wince at the pain and I let go of the doorknob. I try not to cry out from the pain and restrain myself from taking out my gun. “See, you’re not strong enough,” Heines smirked. Before pushing me aside and going into the room with Caste. I watch through the window and watch the light flicker even more. The jingling comes back and grit my teeth. “Caste, what’s happening to you?” Heines said after taking two steps back. Caste glanced at Heines before collapsing onto the table. He tried his best to hold himself up when he started violently shaking. I freeze. “Medic! We need a medic for Caste!” The technician yells as he runs out the room. I try to say something but nothing comes out as I watch Caste. I stare at the suspect and notice how intently they’re staring at Caste. Jingle, jingle, jingle, snap! My eyes widen and I run to the door. I twist and pull and push the door frantically but it doesn’t budge. I hear pounding on the door from the inside. “Open the door! What are you doing?!?” I hear Heines yell from the inside. A constant thump sounds from the other side as if he’s trying to break the door down. I back up from the door and pull out my gun. I aim in carefully at the door lock. “It’s no use,” I hear in my head. It’s a voice that I never heard before. I look through the window to see what’s happening and I almost drop my gun in shock. Caste is unconscious on the floor and Heines is sweating and shaking violently. He is standing but barely and the suspect, remains in their chair unbothered by everything. At that moment, it feels as if everything goes in slow motion. It feels as if I can hear everything. Multiple footsteps pound towards me. A maniacal laugh that’s not from inside my head sounds. I suck in a breath and the voice sounds just as I pull the trigger with shaky hands. It’s from the suspect. “Lights out.” Pull the trigger. Everything goes black. Jac is a freshman at Franklin High School. She is an active member of Epiphany. Memorable Girl
by Emir M. Nunez Memorable girl with eyes like pearls and a head that's covered in a forest of curls her gazing eyes make one feel as if they are relaxing- after meeting her the presence of any other is taxing when you hear her voice, it sounds heavenly not all the time, necessarily when she needs it to be her voice is weaponry the sounds her voice can project are similar to relics never let her feel threatened because her attitude is splenetic And never forget; her volumes hit harder than psychedelics Emir is a senior at FHS. He is a member of the track team. In his free time, he plays video games, reads, and writes. He is self-described as optimistic. He will be attending Raritan Valley Community College in the Fall. a palindrome poem by Khaliel Powell
Palindrome I don't want summer If summer won't consist of Car meets with the boys Cook outs on the weekends Weekdays on the court Movie nights with my girl Late night drives for my self Is it to much to ask for Late night drives for my self Movie night with my girl Weekdays on the court Cook outs on the weekends Car meets with the boys If summer won¹t consist of I don't want summer Khaliel is a senior at Franklin High School. a performance poem written by Preciosa Rojas, JW, and ATP
Love (Preciosa) Love “Hey love” A word so simple So respectful and gentle A word that hurts That makes your whole heart half. From love what do you get What do you see What story do you think of Where is love Where did it take me? Close your eyes Say it with me Where do you go? ... (J) Love Where did it take me I’m on the court “That's tough” The court greets me every time Love Love is the smooth way My feet dance on the court The way the ball dribbles Back to my fingertips Love is The ball, the shot, the court Close your eyes Say it with me Where do you go? ... (A) Love Where did it take? I’m in bed Lost in the notes The rhymes, the rhythm, the beat Love Lost in the drawing On the canvas like paper with some shade and color Love resides between Headphones and a pencil Love is my way Of getting away Close your eyes Now say it with me Where do you go? Preciosa is a Senior at FHS. She enjoys being creative in her free time. a performance poem co-written by ReYana M. and Lance G.
Boomerang You’re like the morning chill. -Unforgiving and harsh. But I miss you when you’re gone. -And when you’re gone I remember, How I hated when you were here. -I think I want it back But who knows… -Could be peer persuasion -“You’re so annoying” “Ya was mad cute” -”I hate your attitude” “Ya were goals” -”I never wanna see you again” “Ya can work it out” But if it were to happen, -If we could work it out, I wouldn’t mind -You’ll always be mine. Keep it on the low, -Ignore the noise Help US grow -But its your choice You were a friend -A beautiful person You were a razor -You cut into my soul I guess i’m scarred -Just don’t be scared Love -Is a strong word Like a boomerang -I guess I can go again Lance is a Senior at FHS. When asked to describe himself, he responded that he is very thoughtful-- his thoughts are always full of specific, yet random, things. ReYana is a Senior at FHS. She enjoys spending time with her friends. Chapter 1
by Joseph F. Timothy Norque was rarely confused. He was a world-renowned detective who had solved an unnatural amount of cases. People called it luck when he solved 50 and called it genius at 300. The last time he was confused, Norque started to turn back time with his impeccable memory, was when he was at the age of five. He had lost his favorite toy. He at one moment had it and the next didn’t. He cried for days upon weeks because he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t a very good memory. However, on that day Norque told himself that he would lose anything again. From that day on he would never succumb to confusion. Yet, here it was again. The pit in his stomach. The pain in his brain. No, this feeling wasn’t very welcome. Before Norque laid a corpse. Beaten and battered, almost to a pulp. No officer around him could stand to look it for more than 5 seconds. “I’m going to be sick.” One moaned. Truly it was a horrific scene. What confused Norque was not the body, but all the things that surrounded it. Footprints the size of a hound rested on the sidewalk. Witnesses around the murder claimed they heard a loud roar at 3am. What Norque was dealing with was abnormal. There was something unnatural at work, something inhuman. Norque decided that it would be best to ponder in his office. He looked over photos and accounts but couldn’t make sense of it. What the photos displayed was an attack that required tremendous strength. Yet there was no trace of weapons at the scene. Accounts state that they heard horrendous roars and terrible stomping. However no one even caught a glimpse of the scene. This case was an anomaly onto itself. At 7am Norque decided to take a break, he needed fresh air from his stuffy office. His head thumped and thumped as he sat inside the diner. “Excuse me sir, what will you be having?” The waitress asked, interrupting his train of thought. As he rubbed his temple he ordered, “A dark roast, 5 sugars, no cream.” *ruuuummmmble* Norque considered his stomach, “And a stack of buttermilk pancakes.” It was 9am when he left the diner. Rejuvenated he walked back towards his office. He could feel the morning winter breeze brush his skin. He pushed into the main entrance. “Clear your head?” The secretary asked. “Of course, Janice, of course.” Norque replied. But when he entered his office once more. The wave of worrying confusion hit him once more. Truly this was the mystery of the century. Joseph F. is a freshman at FHS. He is a self-described "lover of comics and competent writer." He enjoys creating comic books in his free time. [This was written for the Intro to Drama course offered at FHS.]
--- *DING* You have a message... By J.Z.S. Scene 1: [Scene opens up on a split stage. On one end there is a teen, Hazel Burns; on the other end, dimmer room, there is a visibly older man, Ted Brundy. Hazel is on cell phone, Ted is hunched over a laptop; when a notification dings on Hazels phone.] [Hazel] to herself OMG! That hot guy added me back, on Insta. Maybe I should text him… No! Hazel! He’ll think your desperate! Let me just put a picture on my story that says hit me up… Yeah! Good job Hazel… [Notification dings on Teds laptop] [Ted] Good, fresh meat. Calls someone on phone. Hey, yeah is Ben there? Put him on the phone...now dumbass! Yeah, Ben I found another one. Light skinned, curly hair, tall. Perfect for the buyer in Tokyo. Or wait was it the one in Japan who wanted a stripper? Well whatever she seems easy. I’ll have her to you by the end of the week. No I cannot get her by tomorrow, do I look like UPS? Forget it, you’ll have her whenever I get her. Bye. Reads out loud Hit me up? Don't mind if I do Hazel. Licks lips seductively [Hazel] He texted back! Looks at phone reading messages out loud: Hey, I think you're really pretty. Shrieks, He think I’m pretty! Wow! [Ted] mimicking Hazel I think your hot. Wanna be my boyfriend? Heart emoji. In his normal voice Cute kid, even though she’s kinda stupid. But this just makes my job that much easier... Scene 2: [Someone holds up a sign that reads:SEVERAL MESSAGES LATER] [The Burns family is sitting down for dinner. Hazel is busy texting “Cameron”(ted) under the table.] [Elijah]Who are you talking to? [Hazel] I'm texting, Dad. [Elijah] Who? [Hazel] My friend Cameron from Piscataway. He's a junior and plays volleyball for his high school. [Elijah] Ooh, a junior. Well, he's obviously a very smart kid. Pause LOL. Laugh out loud. Right? [Hazel] thumbs up.Nice one, Dad. [Elijah] confused PWOMS? [Hazel] "Parent watching over my shoulder." [Elijah] pointing And what is that? [Hazel] "Laughing my ass off. Me too." yanks phone out of his hand [Elijah] No, wait. [Hazel] Dad, can you go talk to Mom about mortgage payments or something. [Elijah] All right… [Emilia] Hey, honey? No phones at the table, please. [Hazel] Sorry. Tyrone, will you take a picture of me? [Tyrone] Hey, what did Mom just say? [Hazel] I was just gonna send a photo to Cameron, but okay, forget it. [Tyrone] So, seriously, what's this guy's deal? [Hazel] Well, he's smart. And funny. His brother's being recruited by UC Berkeley for football and that's where he wants to go, but for volleyball. [Tyrone] Oh, right. The girl's sport. What do his parents do? [Hazel] His mom teaches kids with autism and his dad works for ESPN. [Tyrone] I don't know, sis. Sounds like he's got too much going for him. You sure he isn’t a robot? [Hazel] Shut up! Mom can I be excused? [Emilia] Sure hon, go ahead. Scene 3: [Someone holds up another sign:SEVERAL MORE TEXTS LATER] [Hazel is sitting in her room, as her brother stands at the door eavesdropping.] [Hazel] anxiously clutching her cell phone Come on. Cameron. Where are you? [Notification dings on her phone] [Hazel] About time. Hi, Cameron. Ding (reads) I have something I have to tell you. [Hazel]What? Ding (reads) I'm really 20. Sophomore at UC Berkeley. [Hazel] shook What? Twenty? Ding (reads) I didn’t want you to think I was too old or whatever. Do you hate me? [Hazel] hesitates No, it’s cool. I still like you. I guess it was nice of you to try and make me feel comfortable. Ding (reads) Got to go. Ur awesome Hazel. Love you. Smiles. [Door slams] [Hazel] jumpy Wh-What are you doing? [Tyrone] yells I knew it! I knew there was something wrong about that guy! What do you even see in him? [Hazel] It's none of your business… leave me alone. [Tyrone] worried Hazel… you’re only 16. That’s illegal. [Hazel] whispering That’s only if we have sex, and it isn’t like he’s forcing me to do anything. [Tyrone] whispering fiercely You’ve never even met him in person. [Hazel] angrelily Whatever.. [Tyrone] What'd you think about him being older? [Hazel] At first I thought he was 16, okay? And then, all of a sudden he's 20 and I'm like, what? And then we kept talking and I was, like, what's the big deal? But...He gets me, you know? He's not judgmental. He's encouraging. And despite my age difference he still loves me. And he thinks I'm beautiful. [Tyrone] What do you think about him lying about his age? [Hazel] You know, Cameron said that when you connect like we did when you find that soul mate that's the only thing to think about. Don't you believe that when two people are in love nothing else matters? [Tyrone] I can understand how you think you feel, Hazel. But, there are reasons why girls your age and men his aren't supposed to be together. [Hazel] Whatever. He loves me. I know he does. [Tyrone] I’m telling mom and dad. [Hazel] No! Then they won’t let me meet him on Friday! [Tyrone] So your meeting up with him in two days? [Hazel] Yeah… [Tyrone] Where? [Hazel] He said he’d be at that club on Hamilton Street. [Tyrone] But you’re a minor. [Hazel] He said he knew a guy who could get him and me in. Don’t worry I wasn’t planning on drinking anything. Giggles [Tyrone] Fine I won’t tell anyone...walks away from Hazel, mumbling Except for Mom and Dad. Scene 4: [Elijah] So your sister is planning to meet this stranger at a club? [Emilia] And you let her go? [Tyrone] NO! Your not getting it, you need to find out what's going on. You need to call the police or the CSI or even the FBI. [Emilia] Alright, I’ll call Detective Turner. Maybe he can help us understand what Hazel has gotten herself into. [One hour later] [Emilia] Thank you so much Detective Turner, for coming to help us. [Det. Turner] No problems. So from what you explained to me over the phone, I figured that Hazel is talking to an older man on social media? Waits for them to nod. O.k then let's get to work on finding this online predator. They all look confused… [Det. Turner] Oh, sorry the term online predator means a sexual predator who uses chat rooms, instant messaging, or social networking sites for the purpose of flirting with and meeting others for illicit sexual experiences. This seems to be the situation your daughters in. [Emilia] So now what? [Elijah] But what does this man want with my baby girl? [Det. Turner] Probably better to not mention it… [Emilia] gasps Oh, my poor baby. [Det. Turner] It’s alright, I’ll figure it out. So she was using instagram to contact this man? Ok then there are two ways to find him. We could either track him through his I.P. address, or we could just follow Hazel to their meeting place, and catch him red handed in the act. [Elijah] Alright we’ll be ready. [The next day] Scene 5: [Hazel] typing on the phone Cameron? Where have you been? Ding (reads) Around… Ding (reads) are we still on for today? Smiles, texting Of course babe. I can’t wait to meet you! Ding (reads) so… does anyone know about us? Texting No why? Ding (reads) No reason can’t wait to hold you in my arms. [One hour later] [In this closing scene, the lights dim and everything is done wordlessly. Dramatic music plays in the background. Ted attempts to kidnap Hazel, but Tyrone intercepts him, giving Detective Turner time to handcuff Ted to a pole.] [Hazel sits on a bench, anxiously waiting for Cameron (Ted) to show up to the meeting place. The family is hiding in different places on the stage, Det. Turner is holding a walkie talkie, waiting for backup. Ted walks up behind Hazel, sitting down in the creepiest way possible.] [Ted] Hazel? Is that you? [Hazel] distant Yeah. Who are you? [Ted] It’s me Cameron. [Hazel] shook No---No! [Ted] holding onto either shoulder, preventing Hazel from pulling away. Hey, you. God, I can't believe it's really you. Look at you. You're gorgeous. [Hazel] Is this a joke? [Ted] What? No it’s me Cameron. What wrong? [Hazel] You’re not 20… [Ted] Oh. Well, hey. Don't get upset. Hazel, please. Just give me a chance to explain. It's me, Cameron. I'm sorry, I, but-- Okay, all right. You're right. I just couldn't think of a way to tell you. You have to believe me. Hazel, please. Please? Don't get upset. You're killing me here. Hazel? It's still me. Okay? Forget the age thing. All that stuff that we talked about? All the things that we shared? It's me. Cameron. I'm sitting right here next to you. [Hazel] Why do you keep lying to me? [Ted] Because of this. I was, I was afraid that you wouldn't be mature enough to understand. Hazel, when you connect with someone the way that we connected when you find a soulmate the way that we found each other then nothing else matters. I thought you were old enough to understand that. I mean, you made me think you could handle this, Hazel. I mean, this is ridiculous. I mean, it's me, Cameron. The same guy that you've been talking to every day and every night for the last two months. I love you. Hazel. And I don't get why age has to change that. Can we just walk a bit? Huh? Talk a little bit more. Just for a couple of minutes before I have my long drive back to the airport? Come on. Just-- I was just looking forward to seeing you so much. I thought we were friends at least, Hazel. This remind you of anything? I was just thinking that. Your year abroad in London. All these American students come in. I saw this girl. Love at first sight. And I ended up here with you. [Hazel] O.k., let’s go. Holds out hand, unsure of whether or not what was happening was ok. [Family and Det. come out. Ted tries to run, but Tyron trips him up, giving Det. Turner enough time to capture him. Movie dramatic music plays in the background. Everyone exits the stage, except for Hazel.] [Hazel’s Monologue]I got lucky. I had people who loved her enough to get help. Some girls aren’t so lucky; take Kayleigh Haywood, 15, was raped and killed by landscape gardener Stephen Beadman in November 2015 after being bombarded with messages on Facebook and other social media sites for around two weeks by 28-year-old Luke Harlow. That could have been me. I could have been found dead in an apartment, or behind a bar too drugged and too drunk to defend myself. But it didn’t happen like that. The man who tried to kidnap me, the person I thought was Cameron, was arrested, and I got the phycological help I needed. Because not only did Ted invade my heart, but he became my breath, my life, my everything. He convinced me, made me think that without him I was nothing. That I was ugly. That I wasn’t worth anything. But now I understand. So learn from what I did wrong and don’t make the same mistakes I did. Watch out, the internet can hurt you just as much as it can help. [END] J.Z.S., or Johany, is a 9th grader at FHS. She is an aspiring author currently working on short stories, poems, and a novel. Her love for works expands towards all types of literature, but especially classic novels. Mor Vincit Omnia~Death Always Wins
by Nia A. Death is a black void A striking, piercing, unavoidable hole That sucks us in eventually Here I am running, running faster Running harder as if Death won’t catch up to me Because it always does My cheeks flush red with fatigue My legs grow weary So I try I try every way to outsmart death Hiding in the shadows Fighting with the unholy darkness But Death spans across land and sea It’s shadows far greater than me Death has more fight left in it Knocking me out with its piercing blows Left swing Right swing Uppercut I cannot maintain the fight But I don’t give up easily Wounds oozing black and blue, throbbing in pain I try to fight But Death laughs and overpowers me And that’s how every fight with Death has gone down No one ever wins You just grow to accept it And heal those fighting wounds in the next life Nia is a Junior at Franklin High School. She enjoys reading, writing, and acting. Nia plans to pursue television or film writing when she gets older. |
About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
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