Bloomington High School North, Nikean, 2018, Page 126

Description:	FATHER LOST, by Tania LunaHis tired eyes once shined with pride and arrogance, his words laced with superiority and knowledge notanyone would know. His days were packed with a tight schedule, being the center of longing stares and asurroundment of excitable women. No time for anyone but himself and his job. Now, he reaches his hands to hisunshaven jaw, to his red-rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks.Washed out, devoid of life, alone.He reacheto his lips, the liquid sliding down his throat. In the distance, there is harmonious humming and gentlemurmuring. If he strains himself enough, he can hear a womans voice, calming and velvety, reassure a child. Henever got the chance to hold his.Cars zip by in front of him, he watches with dazed eyes and barely any physical reaction.I used to be someone, he murmurs to the empty air around him. I used to be someones father.Tired, used up, done with.He leans his head back against the sturdy brick wall and relishes in the pain it brings him. Pain is the only feelingthat seems to work on him anymore. He blinks slowly, blearily gazing at the fast food drive-thru sign, in neonletters, across the street. His stomach rumbles, his fingers twitch at the thought of holding any sort of food that day.He ignores the sensation and closes his eyes once more, pretending the background noise is a part of the setlist thatused to play as he entered rooms. His mind begins to drift once again.Applause, cheering, screaming.A dud, a failure, forgotten.HOW CAN YOU BE SMILING? by Braden MarksberryRays of light coming from the barred window indicated that it was finally dawn.His feet had grown numb from the cold, and his rear was sore from sitting on the cobblestone. He breathed in deeply and opened hiseyes slowly so he could look at the shackles around his hands. There was no sigh or groan to show his remorse - only silence filled the dimchamber. He slowly looked up at the other inmate. The man was sitting looking down at his shackles...and grinning slightly. He was wearinga torn brown vest and old dress pants that were now mere rags.How can you be smiling? the boy asked. Theyll be here soon you know...The man on the other side of the ceil looked up from his shackles, What was that?How can you be smiling? he repeated.The smiling man looked around the walls of the cobblestone cell. He seemed to be in his forties and possessed a large wad of lightbrown hair accompanied with rather beautiful green eyes. He had a small stubby beard and a light scar that started at his eyebrow andwent down to his shoulder blade. A large bump on his head was reminiscent of a recent beating.Rays of light coming from the barred window indicated that it was finally dawn. The two men, attached to opposite walls by chainsmerely stared blankly at each other.Whats your name? the smiling man inquired.Daniel.Well, Daniel, he began, I suppose I was merely enjoying the temperature; the morning light. You know how it is, dont you?Daniel paused, not understanding, and after a moment and muttered, Arent you scared?The man also took a moment, and after a second said, Yes. Why wouldnt I be?The two sat in silence. Through the whole night, Daniel had paid no attention to his cellmate across from him, but now that the lightwas shining through the window he could make out the mans face and figure...he could see the smile.How old are you? the man asked, interrupting his thoughts.Nineteen. CONTINUEDI126
Source:	http://cdm17129.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/hs-bloomnorth/id/8725
Collection:	Bloomington High School North

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