HOW TO RULE
by BRANDON
Although the sword can instill fear in any man or child, the pen can make the strongest nation tremble and cower. Like an infant fresh out of a mother’s womb. What that means is just because you dictate with an iron fist, your actions you have are full of bliss, and just because you raise your hand, all may not tremble with fear. Sketching your thoughts to reach further than a redwood, deliver words that trickle throughout the stream of your blood and embed themselves in your heart. As a leader, as an elder, you have the obligation to rule as I am. Generous, kind, loving, instead of being a brute or a tyrant that causes as much destruction inside of his own state haven as opposed to oppressing the oppressors of the ones you love most.
PYRONORMAL VANISHTIVITY
by KYLA
Stan sat in the driver’s seat, clutching the rapidly deteriorating steering wheel, in front of the only two-story house on Hill Street. Stan loved to set houses on fire, the blazing glory of bright golden flames hitting the skyline. He was one of those pyromaniacs, who would look forward to the action of eliminating someone else’s valuables.
In the leather seats of the minivan he sat. He grinned sinisterly to himself as a young brunette walked casually by. This flame-broiled pyromaniac was looking for a match, but in this case, her name was Isabelle. She also happened to be the young brunette who walked by a few minutes ago.
She turned to unlock her black Dodge Neon when Stan stepped out of his minivan nervously. He walked up to the young brunette, glancing at her with his midnight neon eyes. She glanced up at him curiously with eyes as blue as the Atlantic Ocean. Isabelle had natural hot pink lips, light caramel skin, and a raging, yet calm, fire in her deep blue eyes.
“It’s a little chilly out here, isn’t it?” Stan asked.
Isabelle nodded as the frustration of not being able to unlock her car impaled her.
“Do you need a ride?” Stan asked.
Isabelle turned to him, shivering before she answered, “Sure”.
He opened the vehicle door for her before he got in himself. They drove in an awkward silence that lasted amongst the watch’s time.
“Where to?” Stan asked.
“The in-town suite on the left,” she replied.
He pulled into the gravel parking lot and parked. She still did not move, nor look at him.
“Here we are,” Stan said.
“This isn’t it. I was looking for the one in West Virginia,” she stated.
So he pulled out and drove along the road once more. Isabelle tensed as the sound of police sirens caught the drift of the wind. Fog blinded the windshield as darkness sunk in on the chariot couple.
From in front of them the sound of tornado sirens drowned out the sound of the police sirens. The couple kept on the road as they neared the town of Silent Hill in West Virginia. Suddenly, the couple themselves vanished. And the only sound that cracked the silence was the barking of dogs.
THE FOG
by PAULA
I ain’t done much of this before
Being a kid and all, not much
Experience.
But, I got a whole life to live
In front of me.
Taking the path less traveled is no
Option
Because I’m not going to be a mere
Shadow of someone else.
I’m gonna make my own footprints,
Make my own memories.
If I expect to be anything other
Than a splash of paint on
My canvas.
If I expect to make it in this world,
I gotta be the best.
So when the world puts it
To the test
I’m gonna give it my all.
Forget being afraid to fall.
Cause ain’t no one gonna push
Me down.
I’ll crash to one knee
But my head will never hit the
Ground.
I’m higher than the statue of
Liberty
But I don’t got my head in
The clouds.
I’m looking straight into the
Eyes of my future
And I’m not backing down.
And I’m not rapping.
These gangsters out here trapping
Through the night while I’m
Getting my rest.
Ain’t nothing wrong with doing what
You gotta do
To make a life.
You gotta take care of your own
And, I sure as hell ain’t grown
I don’t know shit bout payin’ bills.
Getting over hills life throws at me
If I had lemons I’d pass ‘em
Back.
Fuck Lemonade.
It’s the sugar I’m lacking.
But just because I don’t know
What being jumped on feels like,
Don’t mean I don’t
Know the struggle.
Snuggle up to my teddy bear
When I hear gunshots outside.
3 a.m. and I can’t sleep cause
Every day’s another fight.
Taken away my right
To marry.
Join the military
Just cause I’ve learned to love
Myself and the others in my life.
Trying to cope with addiction
Both family members and mine.
Finding time to finish school, church,
Friends, making a chance in this world for myself.
I’m trying to hard to be a good
Daughter, friend, sister.
I’m learning to adore myself
And, someday, I hope it’ll all
Turn out fine
The way the rhymes do in
Fairytales. I don’t want to be
A princess, just a girl with dreams,
Goals, a drive to make sure
No more friends get
Shot in the back and killed.
Running from a man who knew
No mercy.
Bullets fly faster – the pleas of
Forgiveness, apparently.
Who says I don’t know pain?
Rejection? Self-loathing?
Who says I haven’t known
Heartache and trouble? Depression
And sacrifice?
Poverty and restless nights?
Don’t judge me based on where I do
Or don’t come from.
Judge me based on my aspirations,
Interests, choices. Choices I liked.
Not choices that were a paradox
In themselves.
Because you don’t always have
Freedom in your choices.
Hear our voices when we
Rise from our grieving ashes
Begging for a cause.
Hear out begs for change when
We grasp that contrary to
Popular belief,
Not all hope is lost.
Hear our hopes and dreams
That getting the hell out
Of here is worth the cost
That we’re gonna make a life
Worth writing down someday
That we’ll be remembered
Through the fog.
INNOCENCE
by KENYETTA
She plays and runs in the field…
Her feet bare kicking in the mud…
She has no care or worries…
She’s innocent with her
Blue yes, blonde hair, short legs,
And small feet.
She can do no wrong and her
Imagination is running wild
And free, protecting her from
Evil and wrong. She so naïve
And she barely understands
What goes on around.
She spins herself around until
She is dizzy, until she plotz
To the ground and look up to
The big blue sky with a smile
As big as a watermelon wedge as
She lays in the rich beautiful
Grass.
ECONOMY
by KENYETTA
Piled up bills on the table the fridge is empty not much Furniture cause the spots where it used to be are just Dust bunnies. He just sits alone Crying in his 32 year old body Remembering the good times He had with his ex-wife and three children – two girls and one Son. But then he starts to remember the pain she left behind when she went back to New York City to live with her sister. He takes a sip of his coffee with his cigarette in the other hand wishing if only he could just been able to support his Family like he used. But he has no Job and with no job he can’t maintain to keep nice things. He Goes to bed he lays there in shame Oh how he wish he had his life Back instead of struggling to find A nice paying job. Then, by his side his family would still be.
WHO WE ARE
Exclusive Ink is Shortridge High School's dynamic creative writing group. This is the place for our work to glow.WHAT WE DO
We write poems, short stories, essays, and whatever us inspires us. We share our work aloud and support each other.WHY WE WRITE
Because it's freedom. Because it's fun.