Opus

Wayland Middle School's Literary Magazine

Chapter 1 by Gracie Corbett

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

The smell of fresh pine wafted through the air.  The sun glittered down playfully, but Idla Forester dashed through the dense forest.  Her breath came out in heavy pants and her heart raced.  Her eyes darted around in each direction, looking for any chance to escape.  The beat of a dragon’s wings followed her closely, getting louder each and every second.  She had already made her way off the dirty path and was now just using her instincts to find her way around.

Idla lept over rocks, roots, and shrubs, dodging everything that got in her path.  Tree branches scratched her pale face, letting blood drip down her shirt.  Her messy blue hair had twigs embedded into each strand.  Her bare feet hit the ground hard each time she stepped.  Pebbles buried themselves into the soles of Idla’s feet.  

The beating of wings was right behind her now, the hot, sticky breath of the dragon was on her back — she did not dare look behind her.  

Idla saw her chance to escape just a few feet in front of her.  A low hanging branch, with a thick Gloomy Spider’s web.  The drops of a sap like substance were                      sparkling like dew in the early morning light.  If I could just make it a few more steps in the right direction…

As she neared the branch, she surged forward, tucking her knees to her chest preparing for impact.  She rolled under the branch and popped back up on the other side, Idla’s head whipping around to look behind her.  The large aquamarine colored creature was advancing on the Gloomy Spider’s web, unaware of the potential trap.  As the dragon closed in on Idla, its fiery cobalt eyes targeted on her.  With one more thrust of its wings, the dragon hurled itself into the spider web getting entangled in it.

Idla let out a guffaw, watching the dragon struggle in the web.  The creature snorted distastefully.  

“There, there Roldan,” Idla said with a smirk.  “It’s not like I haven’t beaten you 20 times already today, oh wait…I did!”

Roldan, now free of the web, gave low a grunt and turned away from Idla.

“Oh come now, don’t pout!  Come on, I’ve got to keep training for the test tomorrow!  I have to get into the Boys’ School of Battle and Academics!  It’s the only school for miles around!  If I don’t get in, I’ll never learn to read and write, nor to fight!  Mumma and Papa would never let me leave the town in search of another school.  They don’t even know I’m doing this, and you know that!  You know I can’t just sit around all day cooking and caring for my siblings, I just can’t!”

Roldan let out a deep groan from his throat, and slowly got up.  He let down an azure wing so Idla could get on his back.  The sun was setting by now, the tall evergreens blocking most of its light.  The trees swayed to and fro ever so slightly.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  

“Come on!  Let’s get another round in before it gets too dark!  Let’s go back to the house and start from the–” Before Idla could finish, Roldan pushed off his hind legs and soared into the air.

Bibliography

  1. Names and meaning: http://www.top-100-baby-names-search.com/medieval-female-names.html

http://www.top-100-baby-names-search.com/medieval-baby-boy-names.html

Theasous.com

Main character: Idla, means battle

Dragon: Roldan, means powerful, mighty

 

 

 

 

Safe Inside by Nadia Calder

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

 

The gray sky seemed to

swallow

up the world

as snowflakes,

just visible

through the thick glass

of my cold window,

cut through the chilled air

like knives.

I watched as even

the trees

seemed to tremble

under their bite.

But safe inside,

under layers and fold

of my bed,

only the tips of my toes

matched their chill.

 

Steam licked my face

like a playful dog

as the scent of

peppermint tea

filled my nose.

The only sounds

reaching

my ears

were my cat’s happy purrs.

 

Books lay forgotten,

for the snow had

captured

our attention in its slick web.

My blanket was a

fluffy white monster

hugging me close,

for we

were teh only signs of life

in this frozen world.

A Royal Screw Up by Kristen Bestavros

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

Remember those pretty, perky, crown-wearing princesses from your youth? I’m sure you have fond memories of Cinderella and Snow White. Maybe you liked Jasmine, or Mulan? Whichever you prefer, I’m here to prove that the million-dollar Disney Princess franchise isn’t as sweet as it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I love the royal teenagers, and I’m probably a little too obsessed with them. Nevertheless, the harsh reality for Disney enthusiasts and 5-year-olds alike is that those 11 royal pains are NOT good role models.

In case you’re not a Disney enthusiast, let me give you a crash course on Princesshood. There are three criteria aspiring princesses must meet. They must be a main character in a Disney animated movie; they must be human; and they must either be born royal, marry royal, or perform an act of heroism. If an aspiring princess meets at least one of these criteria, then her rank depends on the success of her movie. In addition, she cannot be introduced in a sequel. The current princess line-up consists of the following 11 women: Snow White, Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), Ariel, Jasmine, Rapunzel, Merida, Pocahontas, Cinderella, Tiana, Belle, and Mulan. For a short time Anna and Elsa from Frozen were official Disney princesses, but the movie was so successful that Disney made the sisters their own franchise. Out of the 11 princesses, only Mulan gained princesshood through an act of heroism. In fact, they made that rule specifically for her. I mean, saving all of China has to count for something, right? Furthermore, only Merida doesn’t end up with a man at the end of her movie, although Elsa didn’t either, but she isn’t technically a Disney Princess anymore. Now assuming you’ve seen all of these movies, I’ll get on with my argument.

First of all, the Disney Princesses are way too pretty. Not only are they all absolutely gorgeous, they also all wear big fluffy ball gowns and excessive jewelry, save Jasmine, who wears a bikini and pillow pants. Furthermore, they all have long, beautiful hair that somehow never gets tangled, except Rapunzel from Tangled, which is kind of self-explanatory. Can we talk about Ariel for a second? Her hair is beautiful and thick and perfect, even though she’s been living in salt water her whole life and uses a fork as a hairbrush. Her hair should look like a birds nest!

Maybe you don’t see anything wrong with these teenage supermodels. Sorry, role models. I forgot. But what’s wrong with looking good? It’s not doing any harm. It is a fantasy, after all. It’s not real. Surely we all know that.

Of course it’s not real. That’s the problem. Disney can make these women look as real and as fake as they want. They chose to make them absolutely gorgeous. But so what? It’s their choice. It’s not doing any harm.

Here’s the problem. The more you invest yourself in a fantasy, the more difficult it is to discern that fantasy from reality.

This is especially true for young girls. We see photoshopped models in magazines every day, and grown-ups know that it’s just a marketing ploy. No one looks that good. But young people, especially 13-year-olds such as myself, have difficulty figuring out what they’re supposed to look like. We always have instructions for how to add, subtract, even how to talk, but we don’t have instructions for what we should look like. We seek social media and pop culture to sort it out, and it can have some terrible consequences. When we see 11 tall, beautiful, thin, picture-perfect princesses, we subconsciously change ourselves to be like them. Indirectly, this can lead to depression, eating disorders, and other diseases that young people get when they don’t feel perfect.

Furthermore, the same discrepancies can be found when we look at the diversity of the line up. I know this issue has been brought up a lot lately, and I’m not saying that Disney is racist and only makes white princesses. The thing is, back in 1938 when Snow White came out, it was perfectly fine to have all white princesses. But our society is changing, and Disney is struggling to keep up. It’s not easy making big blockbuster films with a diverse set of characters that are also good role models. Although I will say that there are only four women of color in the line-up, plus Moana coming out later this year. My concern is that they aren’t making princesses with mental or physical disabilities. I think Disney should make a princess with a disability and have her perform an act of heroism. This would prove that the disabled community can do things just like anybody else, and that although a disability is a difference, it isn’t a limitation.

While we’re talking about acts of heroism, I have a problem with a few of the princesses acting really stupid. I know what you’re thinking. I’m absolutely crazy. But bear with me, I’ll explain in a second.

Let’s talk about Snow White. On the surface, she’s sweet and kind, and she can cook and clean, and does a bunch of nice stuff. Oh yeah, but she also walks into some random person’s house, eats their dinner, and then falls asleep. That’s not only really stupid, it’s also incredibly rude. What, does she assume that the dwarf’s food was made specifically for her? Also, she falls for the same exact trick three times! Do we want little girls to play dumb just so they can be like Snow White?

But it’s just a movie. And little kids can’t be bothered with little details like that. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the movie. Besides, Snow White is 14, she’s allowed to make a few mistakes.

Yeah. She’s one year older than I, and she eats a poisoned apple from some old hag who fakes a heart attack. Not very smart. And she’s not the only one. Why does Ariel trust some random creepy octopus lady and then sell her voice for a pair of legs? What kind of trade is that, anyway? And Cinderella honestly does nothing but chores the whole movie. Her mice do everything for her, and then her fairy godmother makes her a pretty dress and she goes to the ball. Can’t she do anything herself?

These princesses are role models to little girls worldwide. We can’t let them believe Prince Charming will come and save them every time they need help. Why is Merida the only princess that doesn’t end up with a man? And Mulan the only one who performs an act of heroism? No offense, Snow White, but finding a cottage in the forest is nothing like saving all of China from a homicidal maniac. And Sleeping Beauty? You’ll have to do a lot more than sleep if you want to impress me.

Disney needs new princesses who are determined, independant women who try to better society. They need to paint a new picture of those 11 supermodels, and I mean literally. They redesigned the princesses in 2013, and did an awful job, but they can do it again and make them more realistic and relatable. I have high hopes for Moana. Maybe Mulan will have competition for that act of heroism. Or Merida won’t be the only one who doesn’t end up married. Don’t let me down, Disney. Those 11 royal pains still have a chance.

Alchemy by Maya Baranovsky

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

Alchemy
Maya Baranovsky

I twirl my necklace,
barely aware of the points pressing against my chest.
Exiting the elevator,
my eyes meet hers
as she stares out from the photograph
that’s plastered on the wall.
Her bony arms wrap around her thin legs to keep warm;
Her eyes are full of hope, but also fear and strength.
I don’t know her name. She’s one of many,
and she stares
right in the lens, right at me.

I tear my eyes away
and keep walking.
I hear muffled whispers
shuffling footsteps.
But I walk on,
reading each sign carefully,
searching the bystanders faces
for humanity.
Carefully.
The charm is a pendulum around my neck.

I walk through the glass corridors.
The star burns as I look at
the tattooed forearms,
the mountains of shoes,
the clumps of human hair,
All signs of those stripped of their dignity.
My fingers rub against its edges,
the metal flickering against blackness.
I notice some others do the same,
fiddling with the 6 points that rest over their heart
like a shield,
protecting the ache in their chests.

My feet are cinderblocks,
cementlike and heavy.
I force them to drag on.
My thoughts race
as my eyes swarm over children’s clothes.
I see the hat of a little boy.
I imagine
him wanting another chance
to play with his toys,
to hear his mother’s comforting voice.

My hand finds the charm again.
I lift it, its points now gleaming,
with the weight of stories.

In The Ocean’s Arms by Caroline Lampert

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•16

          When we saw the grey skies approaching the only brave ones that wanted to go were  my cousin Ella, my brother Michael, my dad and me. The other 17 stayed at the rental house. It was a nice day in Martha’s Vineyard until about 2:15. We lived 0.3 miles away from our favorite beach, South beach. As we hopped onto our bikes the rain started to drizzle down getting our towels wet with rain water, not ocean water. Right as we got to the beach we jumped off our bikes and ran up the used to be hot sand which is now dark and wet. My feet sank into the memory foam sand making it harder to walk up every time. My thighs started to burn, and my legs felt like they were on fire. I could hear the waves roaring and smell the sulfur without even seeing the ocean. We finally reached the top and we all stopped. No one, nothing, or anything was at the beach but us. It felt like nothing mattered but that moment. A shiver went up my body when the cold breeze hit my tan skin. The sand was freshly covered with footsteps of strangers that had walked here earlier, but were no longer there, only their footsteps. The sky was a light grey getting darker the closer you got to the horizon. Finally the ocean, the water was a dark navy blue with white foam at the tips of the wave disappearing when it smashed to the sand.

I stood there in silence not knowing what to do or say. Michael darted across the beach towards the ocean and my dad followed. Ella and I were still standing there. My stomach was clenched looking at the size of the waves. The waves have always been really big in Martha’s Vineyard, but this was nothing I’ve ever seen for all of the 12 years I’ve been going. These waves were 5 plus feet taller than my dad and my dad is 6’1. Step by step, I made my way to the ocean, Ella following. Ella and I have never been scared of the ocean but I have never seen us so hesitant in our lives. My body was still and my fist were clenched. My heart was beating faster the more I thought about going in the ocean. Watching my brother get destroyed by the waves scared me, but made me want to go in more.

My dad’s face was tense and looked scared for us. Ella and I finally got up the courage to go in. We held hands and waited for the perfect moment. We ran and dove into the surprisingly warm water. The current was so strong I felt us getting pulled out a little bit at a time. My dad’s arms were constantly in the air telling us to come in closer to shore. Whenever my eyes caught a wave coming my way, butterflies would shoot up into my stomach. I got up from the last wave and the butterflies fell back down, but when I looked up it wasn’t the choppy ocean, it was a wall of navy blue bubbly water. My head peered up as far as it could go. My body started to tremble. I have never seen a bigger wave. I saw the white foam starting to form and the curl of the wave form. My body finally came back to life and I dove as far as I could under the wave. My eyes were squeezed so tight my eyeballs started to ache. The strength from the wave was so strong it dragged not only my foot up but my whole body. I spun in the wave like I was in a washing machine.

When I finally got released from the strength of the wave the tightness in my body was gone, the fear on my face was gone and the pale tint to my skin was gone. A smile appeared on my face and a laugh came out of my mouth and I couldn’t stop it. We all cried with laughter and joy.  Soon I eventually forgot about the fear and just let loose and enjoyed the moment. The hardest part was getting out. The ocean had it’s strong arms around us and wouldn’t let us go. My dad had to come in and grab all of us. We all fell to the sand laughing and just soaking up everything that had happened. We forgot about the fear, the burning sensation in our legs, and the pain in our stomach from laughing so hard.

All that mattered was what was happening right then and there.