Minnetonka High School Issue 2: spring 2020
MUSE Magazine Spring 2020 Editor: Scott Sorensen Advised by Stuart Pease All works featured are original contributions from Minnetonka High School students. To get updates and eventually submit to MUSE for a future edition, enter the course code DQP4-HQCV-537VG. To become part of the editor team, contact stuart.pease@mtka.org for more information.
CONTENTS
Poetry and Prose Kylie Gifford Michaela Tabor Scott Sorensen Chloe Burris-Waight Brianna Kasbohm Ruby Martin Visual Art Odelia Brandel Hollie Graber Isabel Ligthart Sophie Pederson Kayla Stevenson Nicholas Wyatt Andrew Wilcox
Page(s) 4-7 8-10 11-14 15-18 19-21 22-25 26-29 30-31 32-37 38-42 43-48 49 50-52
Sophomore
My Little Cheetah Cub Playing around having fun, there is time for that since you are young. Hunting for a meal is always dangerous, you need to be cautious, lever and courageous. Finding love may not be easy, but once you do it could work out neatly. Then you might have a cub of your own, by then you should see, how much you have grown. So now my little Cheetah cub, you know how life can be. It will take you to places good and bad, but always for a good reason in the end.
Kylie Gifford
Saving Cheetahs (Volume 1) Cheetahs, Disappearing at a rate too fast, if nothing is done just a thing of the past. Nothing in nature can they not outrun, but the speeding bullet of a poachers gun. The sound of a rifle, is without a doubt frightful. Then in the blink of an eye, this beautiful creature has just now died. How do people not feel guilty, killing a creature of such pure beauty? These animals need our help, this I am certain about. If you want this world to change, you need to speak up and start to engage.
Saving Cheetahs (Volume 2) Cheetahs, Disappearing at a rate too fast, if nothing is done just a thing of the past. Natural habitats diminishing, along with getting shot. . . People believe both are to our benefit, I believe they are not. We rarely hear how endangered they are, Or maybe. . . we don't pay attention. And If you look hard enough, You can see their strong affection. Now think. . . in the blink of eye, this exquisite creature has just now died. How do people not feel guilty, killing a creature of such pure beauty? These animals need our help, this I am certain about. If you want this world to change, you need to speak up and start to engage.
In shuttered breaths, I swallow my pain. Thinking of all I have been through, the suffering, the loss, the agony and pain. And through it all, somehow, somehow I keep myself together. Family and friends all figuring things out for the better. And I hope one day, I will tire of this sadness, that has recently left a void. And every day, deep inside I still feel it there. Hoping someday I notice that void going elsewhere.
1:42 hey hi what are you doing out here what does it look like come inside no why not i don't want to we need to sleep then go to bed im not leaving you here why why do you think i don't see a problem you're at the end of a dock in the middle of the lake and its 1:42 am okay so come inside no then i'm staying here suit yourself please stop crying im trying
Senior
Michaela Tabor
2:01 you ruined it i know forever i know well im sorry i know i made a mistake i know i made you cry yeah it's not okay no i suppose not talk to me leave me alone please about what anything you ruined it i know
2:17 are you feeling any better i guess please come inside okay thank you im still mad you have every reason to be i know i love you i love you too im glad youre safe why wouldnt i be i dont know well i am you are
I watch a calm, quiet smile unfurl across your face, Like I’m a long lost memory And you’re remembering my name Letter by letter. Your eyes bore inquisitively into mine As you find songs to sing again, Dreams to chase, Love to fall back into. And when you’re satisfied That you’ve heard every last beat My heart every sounded, Your eyes fall closed As you revel in a lifetime of love stories. I brush the hair out of your eyes While you wrap up your dreaming, And you fall out of sleep Back into my arms. Your eyes glitter playfully before mine, And you decide you’re ready To be my next love story.
Scott Sorensen
You sit quietly As I rattle off my speech, Rehearsed and crisp As the t-shirt stretched across my shoulders. You take note of the spectacle That frames my Hopelessly flailing lips, How my brain shuts down but my words Keep coming, Mouth evading mind, Future evading fear. I can’t stop talking, Can’t listen to the static in the air And the echoes of a solemn heartbeat Growing weaker By the minute. Your eyes cut right to the little boy, Sleepless behind the white noise in his head, And you halt my empty monologue. “It’s okay,” You say. “I haven’t slept in a while Either.”
A stranded life on a speeding train And the nausea of watching a world spin On your tabletop. Come here my solemn child, The time for fear has passed. It's time to let your heart beat freely Once again. Expert lies and a freshmen spirit, Stranded and confused in a place Where you can't call out your own name. Lies that fill your mouth and steal your breath To leave you choking on the empty city You've filled with specters. Reunited lips that tear at the seams And leave a lover to drive home Whole again but torn to shreds. The aimlessness of freedom And the rain that rolls down your nose As you swat another wasted hour Off your shoulder. Come in, my lost child. The time for freedom has passed. It's time to savor the embrace of your chains Once again.
I recognize the taste of your words, The lingering hopefulness That shapes your mouth More than the syllables ever could. I know what it sounds like To be in love for the first time, The way that the world opens with her eyes And closes in her slumber, That desperate duality of hope That she brings everywhere she goes. You fondle each sound carefully, Your lips grazing the surface of passion But never bold enough to wield it. So you scream your lungs raw And watch the mountaintops shiver At the sound of your delicate, desperate Love, Just begging them to break. And they do. Sitting among the ashes of Your first romance, Your lips tremble and a tear cascades silently Off your chin. As you close your eyes and croak out this love’s epilogue, You know that you’ll never utter a word the same way Ever again.
The move wasn't something she was happy about simply because she liked their quiet home shrouded in the dense forest. The silence was something she welcomed wholeheartedly it was almost comforting. But she could no longer experience that bliss for her father had been forced to transfer to another company. She wasn't angry she was sad because the home she grew up in was no longer her own. To make it even worse, she was going to go to public school for the first time in her life. Thinking of the big high school that awaited her caused anxiety to swell in her gut, and bile to rise in her throat. When she'd accepted her fate she didn't expect anything to come of it, well anything bad at least. But she was so wrong the group of boys she had befriended called her name everyday treating her as one of their own. All her free time was spent with them, running around town causing mayhem and chaos. It was the most fun she had had in a long time and she never wanted in to end. But she knew that there was no way their friendships were going to last because it was based on a lie. So she took all that she could from the small moments with them. When they first started hugging her she'd always wiggle out of whoever's arms and they'd protest immediately claiming it was 'bro affection' but she weaseled her way out of the conversations by saying she didn't like physical affection. But that just translated to them calling her nice names, complimenting her when she managed to hit the ball at the batting league. Even though that no she wasn't a boy it still felt good to be complimented with such blatant care. The talk of girls was something she always dreaded because they'd list the things they didn't like about a girl and she'd sit there in silence thinking about how she didn't have those things and how she'd be a perfect fit. Which would then cause her to blush and she'd have to write it off as thinking whatever girl they were talking about is really hot. Eventually they cuaght onto the fact that she never said anything when they talked about girls so they asked millions of questions about what kind of girl she liked. She didn't know what to say or who to describe but she decided she'd talk about the boy she had liked when she was a kid in daycare. Every time she described him the boys would always cheer and yell to 'go get her tiger!' It'd make her face blaze red and her heart race feeling so included. Everyday they'd be with her following her around bringing her to classes, teasing her when she wouldn't be able to carry her textbooks. They'd call her a nerd when she'd study for the test in two days but it was always lighthearted and loving. She found herself falling deeper into the grasp of their friendship wanting it to never end. 'Pat!' They'd always scream for her while she walked down the hall drawing everyone's attention; the girls' jealous eyes following their movements when they'd sling an arm over her shoulder.
Chloe Burris-Waight
Then it all came crashing down; she was invited to a football game at one of the guys' houses, she agreed, albeit reluctantly. When she rang the doorbell she was greeted with a hoard of shirtless boys dragging her in for bro hugs. They brought her to the couch where the game had already started, she didn't know a thing about football but she cheered and awed when they did. It seemed to be working because they got even friendlier with her, more pats on her shoulder and far more physical contact. Time flew incredibly fast and before she knew it they were bringing her to the backyard to the pool trying to get her to take her shirt off to swim. Her heart was in her stomach beating faster than a racecar and she could feel the tears building. The boys didn't notice her inner turmoil and they tried to take the shirt forcibly off her. She tried to get away from their prying hands pushing back but it was the wrong move. Her arms stretched out and the shirt slid over her head, she stopped moving breathing harshly, they all just stared. Tears built in her eyes, her mouth opening but no words coming out. "What the f-" she didn't listen to the rest of what he was saying before she ran off, scaling the backyard fence. She ran and ran until she couldn't breathe anymore and her legs were sore, sobs wracked her chest and she fell to the grass. It was a sunny day but the tears streaming down her face didn't match the moods of the screaming children running about. For all she knew the sky was cloudy thunder sounding to each tear that leaked. She had thought everything would've been easy after general introductions but she could feel it building. The dread of what she was doing and how if they ever found out everything would be over for her. She had lied, not a white lie but a lie entangled in webs upon webs. When her name was first called out and the first pronoun was used she didn't say anything. Her heart ached just thinking about it and a sob escaped from the depths of her throat. Her arms crossed over her chest trying to conceal her bra from any prying eyes while she cried. After a while she dragged herself up from off the grass, sniffling, making her way home. When she arrived the house was dark, no one was home, there was no shoulder to cry on. She brought herself upstairs to her room, pulling her pants off before sliding into bed, silent tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. Slowly she drifted off to sleep dreaming of how good things used to be. The beeping of her alarm woke her up the next morning, groaning she got out of bed, going to the bathroom. Her eyes were bloodshot, rimmed red, sadness flooded her core and before she could let herself get sucked in she pulled out her makeup bag. It was all old stuff but she knew with a little concealer she'd look good as new. Lightly she applied it checking to see if it was visible before stopping herself. There was no one to hide her true self from anymore so there was no point, her lip trembled and she pushed herself away from the bathroom counter going back to her room.
"Pat! Hurry up you've got 5 minutes!" her mother screeched from the bottom of the stars. She picked up random articles of clothing off her bedroom floor throwing them on. Grabbing her backpack she sped down the stairs walking to her mother waiting for her at the front door. She gave her a shy smile before making her way out the door to the car. The drive to school was dreadful. She couldn't stop thinking about how everyone at school probably knew that she'd lied and they were probably calling her a slut for tricking the boys like that. Her eyes welled up again but she forced the moisture back hugging her backpack close to her chest. As they pulled up to the school she gave her mom a small hug and kiss on the cheek before opening the door and slipping out. Heart thundering in her chest, she kept her head down, making her way to her locker avoiding all the 'hi's' that came her way. Quickly she opened her locker depositing all the things she didn't need grabbing her history textbook, slamming it shut. As the door closed she realized there were multiple people standing beside her. Looking up she felt bile rise in her throat, they were all there just staring her down. They looked even more embarrassed than she was at that moment. "Hey." One of them uttered and she choked on her spit as she realized she was crying. One stretched out an arm with his fingers wrapped about the handle, she took it from his hand looking inside. There sat her shirt and more tears flowed, she sobbed knowing it was truly over and she had lost the best thing she'd ever had in her life. "I'm so so-. I'm sor- Please don't tell- I'm so-." Between sobs she attempted to apologize but one of them put their hand up before she could go any further. "It's cool man er I mean girl? Or woman? I don't know." He was clearly embarrassed his face was bright red and he was rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Like I think we should've figured it out ya know?" Another boy spoke up while the others nodded along with him. "You were not like a normal dude. We thought you were just gay or something but this uh makes more sense." The main boy smiled clearly trying to reassure her. "How can you be so calm about this? You should be beating me up! I lied to you!" She was so distraught because they were handling it so easily while she was in shambles. "Well you were still our friend before any of this. So like it doesn't really matter?" Her heart sped up and she couldn't help but speak. "So does that mean-" She had a hopeful smile on her face. "Yeah dude football night is still on." He smiled and pulled her into a hug, the others joined in squeezing her.
"Just don't lie again yeah?" He smashed her against his chest, before lightly kissing the top of her head. "Okay I promise." Her smile was smothered in their group hug and their laughter reverberated throughout the hall. All was well once again, maybe this year won't be so bad after all.
Brianna Kasbohm
A City of Flowers Every Saturday, my mother and I headed into the city of Bostre. The filthy streets swarmed with screeching cars that splashed the puddles of muddy rainwater onto the split sidewalks. Endless amounts of rain had fallen from the suppressive gloom above hours ago, but the ominous clouds remained. Everything was grey and colorless, except the small dandelions that grew in between the cracks and crevasses of the sidewalks, springing up from the earthly darkness below and blooming in the middle of the bustling city. Even if they were regarded as an insignificant weed, their vibrant gold petals were the only color to be found within the entire city. I wondered how they managed to appear so untouched after getting squished by the truly blind every day, who were too self centered to even acknowledge their glowing existence. Nobody ever gave these flowers attention, so why were they still growing here? Since I never enjoyed following my mother around the city, I would sit on the same park bench all by my lonesome, waiting and waiting while my mother hastily checked off every box on the lengthy shopping list. But as I approached the park bench, someone was already sitting there. I could have found another bench, but it was my bench. Yet, I said nothing to the old man who quietly sat there. I just stood expectantly in place, waiting for him to open his eyes and see me in front of him. The old man's golden retriever perked up and tilted its head at me and in response, I did the same. Abruptly, "Can I help you?" Spoke the old man in an amicable manner while not flinching a muscle, nor peering opening his ancient eyes. Spooked, I immediately replied, "Yes Sir." With slight hesitation, "May I sit with you?" "Why not, I could use the company and Tucker is very friendly." I swiftly and awkwardly plopped myself upon the bench while Tucker playfully trotted towards me, wagging his fluffy tail and panting in a cheerful manner, causing his slobber to spill over my right leg. No matter, I scratched his soft ears for a long while before he went to rest at his owner's feet once again, probably bored with me. I noticed that the bench was decorated with thousands of tiny raindrops. I intriguingly smeared my fingers through them, connecting their defined edges to form a mirror of water; a glass surface that reflected the gloom above. Then, I suddenly smelled something. An appetizing mass of steam swarmed around me, causing my taste buds to tingle with excitement. I noticed a bowl of steaming hot chili, gripped firmly by the old man's bony fingers. "How's the soup? It smells good."
After a moment, a warm smile spread across his wrinkled, discolored face before he spoke in a gruff voice, "Your company certainly makes it more flavorful." The plastic spoon smoothly danced through the soup while he licked his lips with a satisfying slurp. The old man ate the savory soup with glee, occasionally grunting and humming at the explosive flavor which I could only imagine. I didn't understand the delight found in a simple appetizer, but I patiently waited for him to sip every last inviting drop. The bowl came to rest in his lap while he released a pleased sigh, content with the delectable meal. Moments later the old man thoughtfully inquired, "My boy, may I ask you something?" With childish curiosity, "What?" "Can you describe the day to me?" Simply and without much consideration, "It's dim." After a short pause, "Alright, it's dim, but that cannot be all there is. If your eyes could speak, what would they say?" For several moments I did nothing but intently stare at the old man with a puzzled look. He remained in the same position, facing forward with his eyes held tight. After careful consideration I began, "The emerald grass is shining from all the dew drops on them. The sun appears silver from behind all of the gloom. Yet, the surrounding clouds are always changing, forming into different patterns and faces." The old man raised his thick, bushy eyebrows, lifting his wrinkled forehead before he gave a small hum of content in response. This made me ponder aloud, "Why do you close your eyes?" The old man's smile faded immediately. Simply, "I choose to keep them closed. After all, I cannot gain much with them open." With a stirring melancholy, "For instance, I cannot taste the savoriness of this soup with my eyes. I cannot feel the gentle breeze against my skin nor hear your voice merely with my eyes. My eyes cannot feel, my eyes cannot touch nor taste nor hear." With difficulty, "Yet, I cherish these senses, for they are all I have left.' Without another word, the old man then shakily rose his stiff form and slowly began walking away with Tucker dutifully following alongside him. With a sorrowful expression, my head sank while a pitiful feeling arose in my stomach. The realization hit me hard. When I had the courage to open my eyes, I noticed a single dandelion beside my foot. The stem gently swayed back and forth as my fingers brushed along the miniscule, vibrant yellow petals. I released a heavy sigh and looked upon the emptiness of the bench before peering towards the flower once again. The dandelion would remain as it was: neglected and unseen, with its value buried deep beneath the deteriorating sidewalks where not even the eyes could speak.
Dance of the Dead Man It was a cold night in late December when "The Very Thought of You" echoed through the spacious museum halls. While firmly gripping the staircase railing, I ascended towards the second floor with intent on satisfying my irrepressible curiosity. The melodious song wandered within every dark corner of the museum, inflaming my imagination with arising concerns of what else lurked beyond the creeping shadows. In the historical artifacts section upon the center pillar, an old record player was displayed, carrying the nostalgic voice of Al Bolly. But beyond the many display cases, I saw the lanky figure of a fashionably dressed man, gracefully dancing to the hypnotic tune. I remained paralyzed beneath the exhibit entrance, utterly baffled, while observing the plantasmal man's haunting expression with his thin lips curling upwards into a horrifying, deranged smile. The man leisurely drifted about his dimly lit dance floor with complete disregard to my presence, as if trapped in a far off existence of lulled into a sweet dream, not even the dead could escape. The effortless sweeping of his feet, expressed through pronounced strides, emphasized the man's slender arms that majestically swayed about his frail form uncontrollably, as if he were Death's dancing puppet. The Very Thought of You gradually began to play faster and faster, provoking the man's movements to become more sharp and distorting. As the music intensified, so did the abnormal dance of the man. Suddenly, the ear splitting sound of bones cracking and joints snapping abruptly brought the smiling man crashing to the floor with a pronounced thud. The Very Thought of You ended with the mere screeching of the cartridge on the record and the dead man's white eyes ceaselessly staring into the darkness with the darkness ceaselessly staring back.
Ruby Martin
I remember we were lying in the green grass of summer in my backyard, looking up at the stars. Wondering about their mysteries and untold secrets. Even though we were already 10 years old and knew what stars were, I imagined what else they could be. I remember you were being the realist you always were and hurling a bunch of facts about stars at me. "There are more stars than grains of sand on earth." you said, picking at the blades of grass. "Also, a star's lifetime depends on their mass. Larger stars tend to burn out quicker so they only last a few million years. While smaller stars can live on more than 10 billion years." “So do you think that stars have actual lives?” I ask, looking at you with a curious look on my face. You look at me and say “Yes. Stars have lives. They’re born in a nebula, they live, they die and become nebulas again. But some stars become white dwarfs. Unless the become a supernova. Then they either become a black hole or a neutron star.” “So technically stars live forever?” I ask, cutting you off before you can keep adding to your list of star facts. You pause for a moment, brushing your dark brown hair out of your face. “Yes, they do. After stars die, the nebula they leave behind can make new stars. So in a way, stars do live forever.” “Do you think that when people die their spirits fly to a star and live there forever?” “What do you mean?” “Like when people die, their bodies get buried or whatever but their souls, instead of going to heaven or the other place, they fly to a star. So that whenever someone who loves them wants to see them they can just look up and find their star.” You have a thoughtful look on your face as you look up. “I always like to think that if something ever happened to my dad when he’s deployed I can look up at the night sky and find his star.” I continue. You look at me and give me a small smile. “That’s actually a pretty cool thought. After all there are probably more stars than the amount of people that ever lived.” We lay there for a while. Looking at the stars, listening to the summer bugs, smelling Mr. Dan’s barbecued hamburgers, feeling the spiky yet softness of the grass
Freshman
we laid on. I remember feeling perfect. Looking up at the stars with my best friend in silence. I loved doing that. “When I go up to the stars, will you be able to find me?” You ask. I smile. “I’ll know which star is yours. I’ll just know it.” We kept looking up at the beautiful sparkling lights in the sky. I didn’t think that I’d ever need to look for your star because you’d always be with me. I thought that you’d never leave. I never thought that our time on the same earth would end sooner than anyone could think. Gone This was the best. Dad was home 2 months earlier than he said he’d be. Jonas was finally free to do something besides dance practice. Lewie passed his driving test after 3 failures. We were watching our all time favorite movie, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. Snacking on our favorite homemade snack mixture which consisted of spicy potato chips, cheese crackers, and M&M’s. Lewie’s occasional burps made everything even funnier. The only thing that would make this better would be if you were here with us. Since you don't have a phone, I emailed you a picture of us, with a message wishing you were here. Dad looked over my shoulder at my email to you and asked, “So how’s Sophia doing?” I shrugged. “I think she’s doing pretty good…..” But then I thought about our latest phone call. Your family was screaming at each other in the background. “You know…...maybe we should surprise Sophia and her family in Seattle sometime……” Dad suggested as a smile creeped up onto his face. I smiled back. “That would be great.” I hadn’t seen you at all since I moved the summer after 6th grade. We FaceTimed on our parents’ laptops a few times, but that
honestly wasn’t the same as being WITH you. As in being in the same state, same city, same building, same room with you. You have always been special to me. You were that one friend who always stayed by my side and was there for me when I needed you. You were the first person who I felt like I could share anything with without being judged. You were the only person who I felt truly safe and happy with. I don’t know why it wasn’t someone else like another friend or family member. I just know that there is some sort of magical force that made us destined for each other. Then Dad’s cell phone rang. He usually leaves his phone where it won’t bother him when he’s spending time with his family. Especially after he’s been deployed for a long time. “I wonder who that could be….” He mumbled as he walked over to the table near the TV. “Oh, it’s Yan Yu who’s calling.” I really hoped it was you who had finally called me back. “Hi Yan Yu! Yes, it’s me! I just came back from being deployed.” Dad greeted cheerfully into the phone. “How’s everything with you guys?” The room was instantly silent. I could hear your mom’s quiet and serious voice. Usually she was serious, but she wasn’t deathly quiet. Dad was silent for a very long moment. “Oh no…..I’m…...I’m so sorry…..I just can’t believe that.” His voice was shaky when he said this. “When did this happen?” Jonas had this scared and sad look on his face, like he knew what was going on. Lewie was asleep. Dad was walking out of the room. This must’ve been really serious. After about 5 minutes I decided to walk in on his conversation. I needed to know what was going on. I walked into the guest room where Dad was sitting completely still and in shock. He had hung up the phone too. “Dad, what’s going on?” “Analise,” Dad said with a scary shake in his voice. “Yeah?” "Sophia Rodriguez....." "She what, Dad?"
"Sophia died." This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. You were gone. “All right kids, let’s find a friend to work on our space projects with!” Our 4th grade teacher Mrs. Rupert announced. I had just moved to Seattle and didn’t have any friends. I slouched in my chair, hoping no one would stare at the lonely new kid in the corner. Your friends had already formed their own groups and had decided to exclude you. You were standing awkwardly by your table, waiting for someone to come up to you. I got up and walked over to you. “Hi! I’m Analise. I just moved here from Bar Harbor Maine…..Oh wait, I bet you know that already….” “Yeah, I’m Sophia. Sophia G. R. There’s another Sophia Rodriguez in this class. It’s weird.” “I’m weird.” I say, with a slight smile. “So am I.” You smile back. We stood there in silence for a few seconds then you bring up our science project. “How would you like to do a project on stars? They’re so cool. Balls of gas burning millions of miles away.” This is how we become the best of friends and made the coolest 4th grade science project in history. Or at least the coolest one in the class. To be fair, ours glowed in the dark and had A LOT of cool lights. It was the luckiest day of my life and I didn’t know it yet.
Odelia Brandel
Hollie Graber
Ishbel Ligthart
Isabel Ligthart
Sophie Pederson
Kayla Stevenson
Nicholas Wyatt
Andrew Wilcox