Untitled - Michael Fonseca

Life was different with no parents.


Everything was so plain- black, and white.

There was no day. It was always night.

Always so gloomy and always so dark.

With no one to take care of him, where does he start?

The mother and father he had always loved

Just vanished and gone, and now way up above.

Where the Light Goes - Kathleen Bechtold

Shot - Elaine Rosales

I didn't know where I was or what I was doing there. All I saw were a few people. Who they were or where I had seen them was beyond me. It didn't matter. It all happened so fast. One minute I was in that bright, sunny room; feeling relaxed and comfortable. The next thing I know, I'm running for my life. there might have been more, but there was one that was after me. I see his face. It's a mustached, angry, contorted face that freezes every fiber of my being. As I run through the maze of hallways in that strange, unfamiliar building, a sickening, loud popping sound fills the air along with the blood-curdling shrieks of death and despair of which harmonizes with the cacophony of breaking glass; speeding bullets whizzing by and hitting anything they may encounter whether it's me, a window, or a wall. I turn a few more corners until I finally stumble into another room where the other people are hiding. For a split second, I think I've lost my attacker, but my heart continues to race. Two seconds later, shouts of anger resound throughout that room, barking orders that everyone drop to the floor. I do so for the sake of the strange notion that my life can be spared. As I lay on that wooden floor on my side, I pray that my attacker won't kill me as a terrible, impending fear swallows me whole. Every cell in my body freezes and tingles. Every breath that I take is shaky and slow; the oxygen trying to be of comfort to my pounding heart with no avail. I feel an eternity pass in a suspenseful silence, broken by the ravenous killer's heavy boots dragging and thudding on the polished wooden floor. I am among the many bodies strewn and scattered around the floor that could very well end up being my deathbed, as I lay there I silently pray with everything I still could have in me. "Oh God, please help me! Don't let me get killed! God, please! Help me! Don't let me be killed!" over and over again. I raise my eyes and see my Bible. I have no idea of how it got there, but I'm grateful to see it. With trembling hands, I quickly reach for it and pull out a piece of paper that I find under the thick black cover. In the same horrified state, I quickly take the paper and open it seeing something on it, but not knowing what; not being able to see it or understand it since my mind is racing with my heart, which feels like it's going to explode at any moment. I smash the paper and hold it as I squeeze my eyes shut and keep praying the prayer that has now become a chant that, I hope, still has the power to save my life. As I take a deep breath, I open my eyes and look up above me; ultimately regretting it when I do. Like a wolf approaching its helpless prey, my killer approaches me with the same slow, heavy footsteps; shooting his other helpless victims as he comes. I take a quick breath and hold it. For some odd reason, the killer reaches over me and shoots the person lying below me. I let out another shaky breath that ends up being my last. My killer slowly turns his head towards me and raises his weapon as I continue to pray daring not to look at the gun, but knowing the terrible reality that it's there. Suddenly, a loud pop shatters the silence, making me jump. I feel as if a small stone has hit hte side of my neck. A cool wetness washes over me; soaking my neck and running down my body. I feel no pain as darkness slowly begins to cover my eyes until I'm unable to see anything anymore. When I wake up, I find myself in the same room. From a higher point of view, I can see myself lying in the same position on the same polished wood floor; dead. There's nothing around me but my Bible and a crimson pool of blood continually pouring out of a small, but gaping hole in the same spot on my neck. A terrible cry breaks the silence as my friends gather around my dead body in shock and in grief; their pained faces flashing across my eyes until everything turns black; this time, for good. And that's when I woke up.