Maspeth Echoes presents: Maspeth Upside Down
Have you ever wondered about the existance of other worlds? Jarring utopias, dystopias, fascinating alternate
universes, post-apocolyptic societies, strange planets with unfamiliar creatures? Inspired by the upside down,
a dark and shadowy world that exists behind the walls of our own in the popular show, “The Stranger Things,”
we wanted to create worlds of our own. We put pen to paper to create our own alternate universes through lan-
guage, exploring many worlds of possibilities. Read what’s inside to see how students in Maspeth High School
see the real and imagined worlds around them.
Brianna M. Lee
Editor In Cheif:
Ms. Verma and Mr. Coleman
Cover made by Camryn Adjoha
Artwork by Asadbek
War Cry The Upside Down
By Natalie Cinnamo By Reigne Pedane
The sun was just about to rise, but I could
already hear the faint sound of birds chirping. I need- A cold and dark place
ed to have a breather and really think about how to Where monsters belong
escape this war. When I was about half way through A plane out of phase
my morning stroll, a Sergeant screamed over the loud Where everything is wrong
speaker saying, “Get down, get down! They are at- Filled with death and decay,
tacking!” As soon as I heard his frantic cry, I instantly The dark echoes of the mind
dropped to the ground. I lifted my head slightly and Easily, it can lead you astray
saw a little sparrow placed between barbed wire. Sud- For in there, are the strangest of things you can
denly a series of gunshots fired and I faced my head find;
against the earth. Gravel and dirt bounced around One born with the gift of a curse
me as my ears rang like never before. I slowly glanced Trapped all alone
back up at the barbed wire fence... to see a vacant hole Parallel to our universe
of where the sparrow once stood. A reflection of our own
Imprisoned inside and cannot escape
Only one person can find her and bring her home
Away from this ghost town,
The Upside Down.
Brianna M. Lee
No one hears you. No one sees you. No one even knows that you’re there. You watch as the lives of
your loved ones go. Then,you watch it crash.
You watch them scream in horror when they find your cold body on the floor. You feel so close, yet
your body is numb. No matter how hard you scream, your words are nothing but a pin-drop in a
hailstorm. Nothing seems real anymore, could you be dreaming? You search desperately for answers.
Seconds turn into hours, time feels as though it doesn’t exist. You walk endlessly through your house.
Everything is the same, yet it feels so different. You feel so close to your answer, yet so far. How did you
“Go back” You hear him whisper.“ You are such a pretty girl, too bad you let the world ruin you” he
chuckled. His voice was close but he was nowhere to be found. Tortuous black vines grew from the
floor and lifted you off your feet by your throat. A man appeared in front of you, so close you could see
every single wrinkle he owned. He looked like every man you have ever known, yet no one at all.
“You let them take the gleam from your eyes, the pep in your step. ”You groaned to get away from the
powerful grip that held your throat.
“Now let me show you pain.” Everything went black. Your eyes focus on the darkness, you hear your
loved ones coughing, and soft murmurs begin. Before you know it, you see your greatest fear...them.
By Anita Baculima
The girl gasped for air. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, her heart beating faster than the
speed of light itself. After a few attempts to calm herself down, she finally gets up. Her eyes adjust to
the slight darkness of the room as she scans her surroundings.
The blinds from three large windows were open but the lights were off. The gleam from the
sun allowed her to identify numerous objects.
It was a classroom. Papers littered the room and desks were spread out in a seemingly random or-
der. The whiteboard had a math equation half written down as if the teacher abruptly left the room
with no intent of return. Dazed and confused from the strangeness of it all, the girl walks around
for further investigation.
Despite the hundreds of papers around, not a single one mentions a date or even a name.
Her eyebrows furrow as she goes through each stack, going faster as the yearning to know more
The only thing that appears on each sheet is the number 89. The more the girl thought
about it, the more times she noticed the number 89 appearing.
It was seemingly everywhere: a small corner on a desk, drawn on the windows, on an empty
plastic water bottle.
The temperature of the room drops. The girl winces by the sudden change and the hair on
the back of her neck stands. Goosebumps appear on almost every inch of her arms. Knowing that
there was nothing else to look for, the girl leaves the room and paces through the hallways.
It was horrible. All the other doors were chipped at the ends and the lockers were left open
and some closed. The words Maspeth High School caught her attention. She shuffled over to the
locker in anticipation, hoping for any vital piece of information. Something that could shed light on
all the confusion she felt.
But there was nothing. Nothing else.
Then it hit her. What was her name? Her eyes widened in distress as she rattled her brain for a
name. Any name. Specifically her own. Alas, it was useless. The only thing that she knew was that
The Girl With Three Legs
By Kirsten Kaufer
When night falls, she comes. Her quick movements are as silent as a pin drop in a hailstorm.
She’s coming, and she’s bloodthirsty. Flesh is all she is hungry for. Flesh is what keeps her
signature quality; her abnormally mutated third leg. From the top, she is a beautiful girl with
a ravishing body and alluring face, but on the bottom she has gray legs, and a third attached
to the left leg filled with human prey of those she feasts on. Morning, she rests, stalking her
prey. This time, she’s made her decision. The perfect specimen has been acquired. This time,
she’s coming for you.
By Gabriela Wojnar
When she took a deep breath and let it back out again, she noticed that a puff of cold air was let
out. The air traveled in front of her for so long until her own eyes couldn’t spot it anymore, so she let
another puff of breath out and focused on that one until it was time to breathe out the next puff. This
confused her; the room wasn’t as cold as she thought it would be. She, closing her eyes, tried remem-
bering who she was. She tried looking for a mirror to see her appearance. Alas, nothing came up. She
was completely lost, and all she could focus on was the visible puffs of air that she let out every time
that she took a breath.
After about what seemed like ten minutes to her, she notices that her puffs started getting larger,
filling up the room she was in. She was a pretty small girl, so she must have wondered where those
extra puffs of air were coming from. She thought, maybe if I looked behind me? Which is exactly what
she did. And again, nothing.
Until she turned back around....
The Cost of Frost Snowflakes
By Tristen Czapp Ciani Quinones
The woods were always a place of spite, until Snowflakes, like people, are here one second and
you saw something that gave you a fright. A shadow gone the next.
that followed you home, in order to force you to roam. Each made up of the same things, yet somehow
There is no safe place from its grasp, until it finally has made different.
a clasp. You begin to tire, as you see the creature ap-
proach like fire. All you could do was blackout. Before
the chance was given to shout. As soon as you awake, Trying so hard to be unique that they all blend into
you begin to shake. The world has become dark as the unfeeling, and delicate mass,
night, Nothing but trees in your sight. How did you Something hard and cruel that can beat a beast into
arrive? How will you survive? Your grip clenches tight. submission,
Maybe you should run with all your might. There is no
point to fight. Your heart begins to ache, with a pain
that has sealed your fate. Here in the land where no one And still be a cushion for angels so warm.
can hear your sound. Isn’t there no place better, than Their sharp and jagged individuality binds together
the upside down. and makes a smooth and slippery slope into some-
thing much darker, much more suffocating,
The bitter, the biting, the unbriddled rage of the
blizzard held up on little miniscule flakes of de-
pravity and light.
Till You Are No Longer
By Lubaba Chowdhury
She can feel the pain-
Ponding at her bones, ripping through her muscles,
And clawing through her skin;
Wanting - daring - to break free.
She wanted to let it out, but she was scared.
Scared that it might try to hurt others, because you see, the pain inside her is a living thing.
It feeds on the disappointed looks and talks her parents bestow upon her who
Always remember to compare her to the People.
Who are the people?
She does not know, but according to her parents, she was doing worse, and is continuing to be less than
The pain was crying.
It wanting to wrap it’s arms around her, hold her tight till the only sound left was a faint heartbeat.
Whose? She did not know.
The pain wanted to engulfing every thought that existed in her mind, till her mind was numb, till she
could not feel, till she was-
Sometimes when the happy thoughts danced, pain liked to peak a look at them.
Pain was the itch, the constant feeling of forgetfulness, that always liked to remind her.
-We have much more to do
We do not have much time till you are no longer,
till you cannot breath.
We have much more to do
Till you are no longer
The pain wanted to take a knife and stab those people who tried to hurt her.
She was weak, naive and delicate. Friendly’ was bestowed upon her as a nickname, but it might as well be
A Day in Maspeth High School
By Trisha Dungca
I wake up, and I have this gut feeling, this gut feeling that won’t go away.
On my way to Maspeth High School, all I think about is the dark gloomy day.
I get my books and everyone is dressed down, why is the day turning out this way
When I arrive to my class I have the urge to use the bathroom
The lights begin to flicker, what is going on?
Then I go to was my hands, yet the water is all gone.
I go back to class and wait till first period ends, but then I begin to wonder why the bell still has not rang.
We hear a big bang from out of the blue, turns out the whole orchestra room, the instruments got damaged
from it all falling to the floor.
But yet no one was there,
Yet I still wonder where all the students are,
The bells still have not rung, nothing is working.
We all begin to think how wierd this day is turning out...
by Anthony Villacreses
I live between the parallel planes of
The embodiment between two worlds.
Such worlds that causes humanity to
But not the other.
See one world with its beauties, trea-
sures, and origins.
But not the other.
I can see both worlds at ease.
Dark light shimmers in an abyss of
darkness that receives
White light in selective moments.
Such bright white light burrows against
and cradles into my heart.
Such burning passion I feel!
I begin to conjure the Beautiful Dark-
how I see fit;
Contemplating between life and death
And soon choosing both.
I create and I destroy.
I give power and I take power.
I keep one and I discard the other.
But I am
I am far inferior
And no where near
But a writer can dream right?