Echoes Magazine Final

NONFICTION

BACKGROUND NOISE 1

Cecilia Funk
ECHOES 51

ERINSECTION SECTION

Bryant
Rivera

### ECHOES

DO YOUSECTION SECTION
KNOW FEAR

Casey Majewski

Do you know fear?
Have you ever been forced

To take a deep breath
As your body heated
And you started to feel sick?

Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you ever been on alert

In a place you call home
In a place where love
Kills from the inside out?
Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you ever become nauseous

As the worry ate your insides
And made your mind race
As you waited for a decision?

Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you ever been alone
On the first day of something new
With no one to care for you
To guide and support you?

Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you ever been threatened
With pain as a consequence?

By a lover? A mother?
By a stranger? A rager?

Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you imagined the worst
And watched the idea form

And take shape in real life
With unbelieving eyes?

Do you?

Do you know fear?
Have you been scared of yourself

Because of your own mind
Because of the bad thoughts
Because of what you find there?

Do you really know fearE?CHOES ###

SECTION SECTION

MY STORY quickly accepted but it came with a cost because right before
the application they were waiting over ten years got approved,
I was born. My mom had the choice to take my older sister and

leave me or leave both of us because I was too young to be a

Farhia Mohamed part of the process. My mom decided painfully to leave us both
with her sister and cousin, promising to return when she could.

Our forms were accepted in 2013 and my sister and I came to
My Story: I have a bigger bond with my aunt than most people America that year in August. I was 9 going on 10 and my sister
my age. I tell her everything that happens in my life. Before she was 11 going on 12. When I came, I felt a sense of culture shock.
got the ring, my aunt and her family used to live in Mogadishu, This was so different from where I grew up. I didn’t recognize my
the capital of Somalia. She and all her brothers and sisters lived aunt then, but after a while I opened up to the people around me.
where the battle raged the most. At that time, the civil war in So- After a few years this new world became home. I still remember
malia was at its beginning stage. Because of the chaos the war it to this day, it was on my 8th grade graduation day when my
has caused, there was a curfew and no one was allowed to go aunt gave me her ring. This meant a lot to me. She trusted me with
outside past a certain time. Therefore, all of her family, her uncles, something so special to her. My aunt was given this ring by her
cousins, aunts, and grandfather were gathered in her house. They mother before they left for America in 2006 . In our family, gifts
had all gathered together in one house because her grandfather are given to be passed on. Every mother that could afford gives
was there. It seemed like a normal day but it hadn’t been. That the youngest or the oldest child a form of gold jewelry. It was
day my aunt was playing with her dolls with her cousin when a right of passage; and her mother ended up giving the ring to
about a dozen heavily armed men broke into their home. It was my aunt (the youngest) because of the trauma she experienced
in the afternoon and everyone was taking a nap since they had at a younger age. My aunt had gotten it from her mother with
nothing else to do except my aunt and her cousin, who were love and she gave it to me for the same reason. She was proud
playing on the porch. Everyone came out running once they that I had made it this far and was proud that I had grown as
heard the gunshots. Her father was one of the first people who a person. This ring symbolizes loss, strength, and resilience. This
came out, so the gunmen aimed the shot at him, but it missed ring is my most prized possession as I know whose hands it has
him. But unfortunately the bullet grazed my aunt’s shoulder and been in and what they’ve witnessed. This ring was given for me
another hit her cousin in the forehead. Their neighbors heard the to create memories with and to pass down to the next generation
gunshots and came to their rescue. The neighbors charged at one that time comes. When I look down at this ring, it reminds me
the men, who ran away after they saw that they were fighting of all the obstacles my aunt, my mother, and all of us as a family
against them. Those cowards. There were no hospitals open so have gone through to get to where we are today. It reminds me
she and her cousin were rushed to the clinic, they were treated that even though it took a lot to get here, it was worth it. This ring
for their wounds and since that day she has a scar going across is a part of me now that I never want to lose. It makes me feel
her shoulder, reminding her of that day. Before the encounter, closer to my aunt. I’m glad she gave this ring to me because it is
nobody in her family wanted to leave the country. But after this a priceless gift that is given to one special female born in each
happened, her family decided to move to Ethiopia where they generation of our family and I happened to be that lucky one.
found shelter. They lost everything. Their cars, houses, businesses, When I look down at this ring, it reminds me of how fortunate I am
their livelihood. Everything. They had to start from scratch and to have such a loving family and that I should cherish the moments
start to rebuild. It’s hard to have everything and then moments that I have with them for as long as I can. It reminds me that I will
later have nothing. They became refugees filling out forms to get continue to make new and memorable memories with the mem-
to America. But that was not an easy process. They made a life bers of my family that are to come. This ring gives me self-love as
for themselves while waiting for their application to be accepted, well as it makes me feel connected to something greater. I wear
which would take more than ten years. During that time, my mom this ring for many reasons but the biggest reason is to feel a sense
had my older sister and two years later had me. My aunt lived of connection to my aunt and my family as a whole. Family tradi-
with us and I remember her from my early childhood. They had tions can be anything that is passed down through generations
applied for the form again when my sister was two and it was and this is one tradition I am proud to have received.

54 ECHOES

SECTIEONYESESCTION
ON ME

Josh Abundo

ECHOES ###

MONSTERFICTION
Mackenzie Jones

It was March of 1975 when I accidentally created the mon- warm yellow tips of the complex turned cold blue. My hands were
ster. I only remember that month so clearly because I thought it trembling with fear as I gripped the knob to my apartment and I
would be my last. I promised myself it would be quick, and that I could distinctly hear the shuffling of heavy feet gliding across the
wouldn’t back out. Convincing myself death was like falling in love, floors going back and forth. My mind contemplated whether or not
as I couldn’t stop it and it would happen too quickly for me to real- I should leave right then and there, but I couldn’t escape reality, so
ize. That’s what I repeated to myself as I stood on top of my com- in a split second, I opened the door in a jolt. Almost tripping over
plex with the wind blowing away my inhibitions. Twisting my foot my clumsy feet after the abrupt motion of opening the door on a
in a graceful motion, I prepared for the clouds to carry me down. whim, I began to feel foreign in a place once used as my sanctu-
Before I could, a strong force grabbed my wrist and yanked off the ary. Regaining my balance and brushing off the nonexistent dust
edge of the building. It’s dark warmness sulked around me, and I from my shirt while taking deep breaths to calm my nerves; there
panted heavily with my eyes steady on the ground beneath me. Af- I stood in the spacious room almost inanimate and I could sense
ter that incident, the monsters emptiness followed me around taunt- the evil that was scattered all around me. From the corner of my
ingly. It had been three months, and I couldn’t survive with it around eye, I could pinpoint the shade of yellow that didn’t correlate to the
me anymore, but it wouldn’t let me outside. It screamed through the pleasant shade that had covered the warm sky above just seconds
depths of the night in agony that throbbed my head. It tortured me ago. The fuzzy image inched closer in my peripherals, and I was
and ruined me, but it would never simply end me. It would push me in a state of shock. Heavy breathing followed the movement of the
to the edge, just to pull me right back in its undesired arms. Summer creature and filled the vastness of the room with terror. I could tell
heat didn’t compare to the fire that loomed inside of the monster by the faint thumps coming from the floor that it lingered near me
that burnt me to ashes, but it was the same heat that kept me alive in silence. It took slow sluggish steps towards the small space be-
and warm in times of cold despair. As much as I hated it, a sick tween us that suffocated my sanity. The feeling of icy air that once
part of me needed it. It was May of 1975 when I completely lost flowed throughout my body was now scorching with intensity and
it. As much as I relied on it and allowed it to save me, I needed to I didn’t think I could take it anymore. A poignant hand forcefully
escape. It was this morning when I decided to finally flee from the grabbed my shoulder and spun me around 180 degrees. I was
stuffy apartment that sheltered my hopeless soul. I ran, and I ran, now face to face with the monster that not so long ago inflicted
and I ran as far away from the monster as I could feel free. No pain in my hopeless heart that desperately solicited acceptance.
matter how far I ran, I still felt its heavy presence gnawing on the Its mouth was slightly open and it plastered a dumbfounded look
tips of my fingers and swarming in the depths of my veins. I couldn’t across its face as its eyebrows were raised in inquiry. My heart had
escape it. I felt a disappointing sorrow for it. It was afternoon when been beating so loud and rapidly I swear the rest of the city could
I decided to run back to it as the sun followed me. Frigid air swept hear my anticipation and confusion. Shifting the focus of my eyes
through openings of my loose shirt as I stood outside the complex I to look into the deathly eyes of the monster, I froze with dismay.
used to call my home. The sky above was painted saffron yellow as Tears guarded the waterline of its sulky eyes; those ocean eyes
the burning sun peeked through the tip of the building and illuminat- that reminded me of someone I once knew. All of my agony that
ed the door that contained the monster I attempted to nurture with was hidden deep within myself had escaped and latched onto this
pity. Serene feelings in the outside surroundings felt welcoming, un- helpless creature. I realized that I didn’t end up creating a monster,
like the nature that stood behind the door in front of me. Suddenly, I had exposed the suffering corrupt soul that poisoned my life and
a cloud must’ve covered the bright sun because soon enough the stared back at me through the shattered mirror.

56 ECHOES

FICTION

CAGE Jakob Novara

ECHOES 57

NONFICTION

A WILD SIDE OF
MY OWN

Camilla Rivera

I could feel the scorching rays of the summer sun press frown, something every toad always wears. I slowly dragged
against my back as I ran through the golden grass of my front myself, and all the weight of my legs, back to the patch of dirt
yard. My sister was running in front of me, and both of us were that I found the toad walking across, and as I went to put the
laughing quite hard. I could feel the pressure of my fading toad down, I felt the reflected heat bounce off of the dirt, and
breath building up inside of my chest, but I kept running. In my it hit me hard in the face. I immediately covered my eyes with
extended hand was a small bronze toad with parched skin. my toad-less left hand, and slowly peaked out to re-evaluate
“Put him back! It’s so gross!``yelled my sister. But I did not my decision of leaving the toad under that scorching sun. I
want to. I ran and ran, chasing after her, with this small toad took my left hand, and covered the toad to give it shade, a
gripping firmly onto my hand. I chased my sister, eventually, all break from the sun. It still stared back at me blankly. I can see
the way back into the house, where she ran inside, slammed the ovular pupils of the small creature, and the extensive lines
the glass sliding door shut, and locked it. This left both of us that run across its iris. The toad stared at me...blankly. I placed
rosy cheeked and panting heavily. We stared at each other my finger on it’s head, and gently tickled the toad, wondering
through the glass sliding door for some time, as she watched what it was thinking. I had never wanted to keep an animal as
me watch the toad walk across the patio. After I slowly began my own ever before so badly as I wanted to keep this toad. It
to realize the toad walking away from me at a faster pace was not until that moment when I realized what it truly meant
than before, I scooped it back up into my hands once more, to be a toad, to be wild. It was a toad, with captivating mo-
turned around and quietly began to sway through the grass. tions and eyes that looked like stars, but still a toad. I was so
Dancing with the toad while it rested its arms on my thumbs, fascinated by this tiny creature, but it had its own place within
I slowly made my way to our apple tree, and sat on one of my garden, within the wild. I shyly walked back to a nearby
its thick, strong roots. I felt free. I held up the toad, keeping it shady tree, and placed the toad onto the ground. It sat for
face to face with me. I carefully examined the toad’s golden a while and stared at me, still frowning. It then turned and
galactic eyes, while the gentle summer breeze blew through walked gently away into the emerald-brown bed of leaves
my hair, my dress, my toes, the dancing leaves above me, and that rested above the intertwining tree roots. I waited patiently
the sea of deep green grass consuming me. I read in books to see where the toad would go, but it disappeared under the
about the simplicity of a toad’s mind, but as I stared at it, I leaves, gone. After a week or so of not seeing a single toad
wondered what it had seen, what it knew, and what it still has in my garden, I lost hope. I believed that I would never see
to know. I admired the complex details of this toad, its bends a creature as magnificent as the toad ever again. I searched
and bumps, and how gentle it really was. This animal was no- continuously, under every rock, leaf, tree, and waded through
where near to being simple. I began to hear faint calls coming the (now incredibly thick) grass, just to find one toad. I want-
from a distant place, and after dreamily analyzing the com- ed to give up. I had spent the entire day searching. I had
plexity of its eyes and tranquility of its actions, I realized my lost almost all of my energy, when I saw it. Far away, in the
mom was calling to me, telling me to let the toad go, wash my deepest depths of my front yard, I saw a gentle and slow
hands, and come inside for dinner. Still slightly rosy cheeked, movement coming from my tomato bush in the garden. From
I sighed deeply, gazing at the toad, mirroring its permanent across the yard, I felt that it would take me years to run back

58 ECHOES

NONFICTION

through the grass, under the tree, through the leaves, and over was sitting on a porch chair, reading. When she saw my face,
every rock, just to reach the tranquil movement from under my and the formation of my hands, she called out to me, “Milla,
tomato plant. I did not hesitate. I ran as if I had not just spent did you find another toad? It has been some time since you
an entire day under the heat of the summer sun, and with noth- last found one!!” I ran and ran through the tall green grass
ing but my desire to gaze into the eyes of the toad one more that blew with the wind, and allowed me to soar free, happy.
time. As I neared closer, I began to see it more clearly. I saw When I reached closer to my mom, all I could do was smile.
golden galactic eyes reflecting in the rays of the sun, shining She quickly grabbed her camera and took a photo of me
through the leaves in my garden. Once I reached the gar- and my curious smile, toad in my left hand, and my shoulders
den’s gates, I took no time to squeeze myself carefully through raised a bit, and left arm extending slightly out to the camera,
the door, and run up to the small creature resting under the showing my mom what I had just found. The little brown toad
tomato plant. A toad. I felt my smile touch the clouds, and sat gently in my palm, holding onto my ring finger with its right
within seconds I reached down for the toad to pick it up and hand. It really was a magical moment, one that I carry within
dance with it once again. I had missed its elegant presence. myself, always. I learned to be curious. I learned to take risks
I had missed my deep passion for the toad, one that I had for the things you love. The toad was mine. The toad was wild.
only just discovered (and one I would have never expected And so was I.
to still hold onto today). I ran to my mom, toad in hand, as she

CREAM PUFFS Liesl Ament

ECHOES 59

SECTION SECTION

KALAMARI

Liesl Ament

### ECHOES

SECTION SECTION

THE BEER
BOTTLE BREAKS

Fatima Mahmoudi

She’s cooking in the kitchen
The monster breaks in
She holds a resting face

And the beer bottle breaks
‘Hide your children, hide your grace’

‘They may just die tonight’
‘Because he is a sight’

And the beer bottle breaks
She’s slipping away

And she can see the pain make its way,
‘This could be us but you play,’

‘You play with my heart, you play with my emotions’
The window shatters,

You wonder if your life even matters,
You hear the pitter-patter
And the beer bottle breaks

ECHOES ###

SIEMCTMIONINSECETNIOTN
THREAT

Josh Abundo

### ECHOES

FICTION

THE PROBABILITY
OF YOU

Camila Radin
Let’s consider the probability of a single human life existing in present time: P(-
father meeting mother) = 1 20,000 x [P(they talk to one another) = ] x [P(they
go on a second date) = ] x [P(they keep 1 10 1 10 dating) = ] x [P(together
long enough for the production of a child) = ] = 1 10 1 10 P(meet resulting in
a kid) = 1 2,000 x A female produces 100,000 in her lifetime. A male pro-
duces 4 trillion sperm in his lifetime. P(egg and sperm that created you) = 1
400,000,000,000,000,000 x P(your lineage has remained unbroken for the
length of human existence) = 1 10 45,000 x P(egg and sperm that created ev-
ery one of your ancestors) = 1 10 2,640,000 = 1 10 2,685,000 After scientists
and mathematicians consider the probability of an event happening 1 10 50 nil.

Thus, you are almost impossible yet you exist.

ECHOES 63

LOSTSECTION SECTION
IN THE
STACKS

Madison Dieffenbach

### ECHOES

SECTION SECTION
ECHOES ###

NONFICTION

A SHORT WORK ON
THE NATURE OF GOD

Daniel Covino

I’ve decided to take it upon myself to try and ex- So anyway, God is abstract. God isn’t an entity,

plain exactly what I think God is, and I suspect that I shall not as we understand it anyway. God is something more.

fail miserably. Such is life. Furthermore, God isn’t alien. God is present and constant.

Back when I was a Catholic, I saw God as alien The sometimes-philosopher and extremely under-

and untouchable. The material was here, the spiritual was rated musician Mike Scott put it best when he said that “A

there, and God occasionally poked a massive finger over lot of our biggest problems as human beings are caused

to nudge the material. I saw God as a really powerful by people having very fixed ideas about what God is.

entity. I didn’t understand God or believe in any real way. And if there’s one thing that God isn’t, it’s fixed. Even to

This is understandable, I wasn’t given any time to think for use the word God presupposes a separation between

myself. When you’re raised religious, you don’t discover ourselves and God and I don’t believe in that.”

God, you’re told what God is. That’s no way to build real

faith. Belief needs to come from within. I mention all this God is everywhere, and in everything.

simply because I want to make it as clear as possible that

this is not what God is. God is not a big entity waiting out As I thought upon the nature of God, the more I

there somewhere in space. We went to space, and we came to realize that it isn’t that I’m not smart enough to

did not find God. We built towers to the heavens, and no understand God, or anything of that matter, but that I am

God punished out hubris. We committed the Holocaust, incapable of understanding God, for that is the nature of

and no God intervened. That way of thinking is wrong. I God. In the story of the blind men and the elephant, blind

have numerous other problems with the Catholic Church men who have never seen an elephant before happen

by the way, but that’s not important now. upon it. They try to understand what it is, but they cannot.

One feels it’s trunk and says it is a great serpent. Anoth-

So I moved on. I left the Catholic Church, and be- er felt it’s ear, and thought it a great fan. Another felt the

gan reading the Bible for myself, and I worked to under- leg, and believed it to be a small tree. Each of them are

stand the ideas of Christ. The ideas of Christ aren’t import- correct in their experience, but wrong in their conclusions,

ant here. Christ was human, his ideas were great, and I am simply because they have not enough information. It is not

fully a believer in his divinity, but he was also fully human. one thing, it is an elephant. Now, imagine that all human-

Exploring him here won’t help us figure out the nature of ity is blind, and the elephant is infinite. That is the nature of

God. God.

66 ECHOES

SECTION SECTION

ESCAPE FROM ECHOES ###
THE GROUND
Josh Abundo

SECTION SECTION

T
U
N
D
R
A

Liesl
Ament

#6#8#ECECHHOOESES

SECTION SECTION
ECECHHOOESES##6#9

FICTION

SOUL ESSENCE Christina Belluscio

MOVING ON
Alexia Moser

“We’ll see you soon, Ms. Wilson,” said the doctor. “You’ll be healed soon.” He words he turned on his heel and strode out, the door sliding closed automati-
put the mask over my face, and everything began to blur before my eyes, my cally behind him.
breathing slowing as I slipped into the cool embrace of darkness. Cancer free! I smiled to myself, thinking of how delighted Ash would
~~~ be when they found out. While I waited for Dr. Jackson to appear, I glanced
“Ms. Wilson? Ms. Samantha Wilson?” the voice sounded muffled and around my room. It mirrored almost every other hospital room I had spent time
far away. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps if I only kept my eyes closed in; the bed I was lying in was pushed up against one wall, light streaming in
everything would disappear and-- “Ms. Wilson!” the voice called again, much from the window to my left. Tucked into the corner were two armchairs, along
closer. with a coffee table piled high with magazines. To the right of the bed was the
I blearily opened my eyes, squinting against the bright white of the normal array of monitors displaying my vital signs, although there was a no-
overhead lights. There was a man in a lab coat leaning uncomfortably close to table lack of wires inserted into my body. Technology must have progressed
my face. quickly while I was out.
“Good morning Ms. Wilson. My name is Dr. Ken Bushner-Jackson,” “Ah, Ms. Wilson!” I looked up. Into the room ambled a tall doctor, his
he said, each word clipped. “I am pleased to say that your surgery was a golden curls closely cropped. He beamed as he extended his hand to me. “My
resounding success. You have been completely cured.” If he was pleased with name is Dr. Gilderoy Jackson, I was the lead surgeon on your case. I was also
this development, he certainly didn’t show it, his face remaining impassive. one of the many doctors who determined the cure to lung cancer, leading you
“My surgery…” All of a sudden it all came back in a rush. The diagno- to be sitting here today, fully alive.”
sis, the decision to have my body frozen in hopes of a cure. I sat bolt upright. I shook his hand. “I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Jackson. You’ve literally
“You mean to say--” saved my life.”
“Yes, Ms. Wilson. As of three hours ago you are completely cancer “No need to thank me, Ms. Wilson, I was simply doing my job.” He
free,” he replied in a monotone, far more interested in the tablet he was clutch- paused. “Well, I will take some thanks. This has undoubtedly been my magnum
ing than our conversation. “Dr. Jackson will be here in just a moment to explain opus, if you will. There’s even been talk of a Nobel Prize, but we shall see…” He
what will be happening from this point forward. Good day.” With these parting clasped his hands behind his back. “Now, Ms. Wilson--”

70 ECHOES

FICTION

“Please, call me Sam. Referring to people by their last names is too soever to heed my advice, but personally speaking, I think our best course of
formal, it’s cancelled sis.” action would be to enroll you in college courses once you’re discharged. You
“Um… of course… sis… Now, Sam, the cancer has been completely can apply to whichever college you wish to go to for next year. I think surviving
eradicated from your body, but due to the amount of time that you spent in a lung cancer and then adjusting to a completely different life would make quite
frozen state, there were some effects on your body. We’d like you to come in a good essay, don’t you?”
for physical therapy twice a week at your convenience to get you back to peak I pasted on a smile. “That sounds like a great plan, Dr. Jackson.”
shape as soon as possible. I promise you it will not be excessively strenuous. He grinned back. “I’m glad to hear that. You’ll see— this is all going to
However, there is a slightly more pressing issue.” He sighed and rubbed the work out fine.”
bridge of his nose. “Sam, when you were first frozen, did your doctor tell you His words echoed in my ears a month later as I attempted to navigate
how long you would likely have to remain in that state?” to my first class of the day. 2169 was certainly proving to be an adjustment, to
It felt like just yesterday; Dr. Knolls assuring me that it wouldn’t be too say the least. Everything was so much more. Bigger, faster, more expensive.
long, that they were on the very brink of their Eureka! moment. “He told me that Everything was speeding by and I was just trying to catch up.
the best case scenario was twenty years, and at the most fifty. Why?” I was staying in the city, taking classes at UDC Community College,
Dr. Jackson sat on the edge of my bed and made a move as if to reach trying somehow to move on after everything I lost. Because there was nothing
for my hand, but then reconsidered. “There’s no easy way of saying this. Sam, else I could do. My family and my life were gone, but I was still alive, and my
the year is 2169. You’ve been frozen for 150 years.” only option was to keep living, to find some way to make it through, as impos-
150 years? All I could manage was a quiet “Oof.” sible as it sounded.
He continued, talking about ‘adjusting’ and ‘fitting in’ and how it When I entered the classroom, there were already students milling
would ‘take some time to get used to’. All I could think about was my sibling, around, no doubt waiting for the professor. I felt my shoulders relax. No matter
their round face creased with worry, not wanting to see me die, but not willing what year, humans were humans. Except on closer inspection, no one was
to lose me to science either. I was all they had in this world, and they had only quite human. A metal hand there, wires running down someone’s neck there.
acquiesced with the assumption that they would see me again. My head spun, trying to process this scene that was so very unfamiliar. Despite
Dr. Jackson was still talking. I resumed paying attention just as he said having seen similarly fantastic scenes in sci-fi movies, seeing it in front of my
“I know this is a lot to take in, so I’ll leave you for now to process. I’ll be back face made my head reel. The sheer alienness made me want to curl up in a
tomorrow to go over more specifics. For now get some rest. You’ve had a long ball and never move again. I rushed from the room, barricading myself in a
day.” He turned and strolled out. bathroom stall. I knelt by the toilet and dry heaved.
The door closed, sealing me into my room. Alone. I was alone. I was “I am detecting an elevated heart rate. I suggest you sit and take slow,
truly, completely, alone. I could feel tears, hot and wet, streaming down my deep, breaths,” spoke a voice.
face, but I made no effort to wipe them away. I burrowed into my covers and I yelped and tried to throw myself as far away from the toilet as possi-
cried myself to sleep. ble. I hit the door of the stall, bruising my shoulder.
When Dr. Jackson came to check on me the next morning, I was “I am now also detecting a bruise on your upper right arm. I suggest
standing at the window, staring out onto the landscape that was so familiar yet icing for several minutes.”
so foreign. The same familiar landmarks rose in the distance, the Washington I peered at the toilet. “Are you speaking to me?”
Monument watching over all of D.C. like a sentinel. Yet the concrete slabs that “Yes,” replied the voice. “I am an automated health assistant, here to
decorated the streets were gone, replaced with sleek, modern buildings, most provide basic care. I was installed based on the reasoning that many students
covered in solar panels. The streets were also changed, from asphalt stretches seek the refuge of a bathroom in moments of crisis.”
to metal rails that criss crossed each other as they raced over and around build- “That’s pretty wack dude, so I’m just gonna… I’m just gonna go now,”
ings. I said, staggering out of the stall. I felt like I was suffocating, like I couldn’t get
“Good morning Sam,” he called cheerfully from the doorway. “I’m enough oxygen in my lungs. I raced down the hall towards the exit. I burst out
glad to see that you’re on your feet already. As soon as we sort out a few minor the doors, gasping for air, and was narrowly missed by someone speeding
details, and if you feel comfortable doing so, you could be released as early past on--did that person have metal legs? The sidewalks and roads were filled
as tomorrow morning.” He motioned to the armchairs. “Please, join me.” Once with vehicles and people and there was so much metal, so many blinking lights
I was situated, he shuffled his stack of papers and cleared his throat. “The way I and whirring motors and it was too much, too much, too much. I needed every-
see it, the most pressing issue facing us is where you will be living once you are thing to stop.
released. Looking into your family tree, you do not appear to have any direct I ran. I ran until my lungs screamed and my legs ached, and then I
relatives that are alive at this time, so you cannot stay with them. Therefore, you continued running. I didn’t stop until I reached a rocky outcropping overlooking
will have to find a place of your own to rent or buy. Now, the hospital has a a river far below. The water flowed past, smoothly rolling over rocks, diverted
fund set aside specifically for the purpose of helping patients move forward in from its path momentarily but always continuing forward. I fell to my knees and
life, so we can help you in this endeavor. Before you were frozen, did you have cried. I cried for everyone I lost, for my family, for my friends. I cried for the life I
a job, a career?” used to have. Most of all I cried for myself— for the person that I lost when I was
“I was in college. I was working at a coffee shop in the city, and no frozen, for the person I needed to become but never could be.
shade but I wouldn’t exactly call that a career.” Would I ever be able to make it in this unfamiliar world? I stayed on
“What was your major?” the outcropping, considering my situation, my tears mixing with the water run-
“Astrophysics.” ning past.
“Well, this is simply my suggestion, you’re under no obligation what-

ECHOES 71

SPRINGSECTION SECTION
IN THE

WARDROBE

Madison Dieffenbach

### ECHOES

SECTION SECTION
ECHOES ###

NONFICTION

FLUTTER BYE Madison Dieffenbach

BUGS
Daniel Covino

In the best-known work of Franz Kafka, “Die Ver- tion miss you? Of course not. You are replaceable. Oh, the

wandlung”, translated as “The Metamorphosis,’’ Gregor people in your life would be sad, but as time passes the fu-

Samsa, in all other accounts an ordinary working man, is ture generations have increasingly fewer of those friends,

spontaneously transformed into a massive and horrible in- don’t they? Personal connections are on the decline. Do

sect. Upon this discovery, his first concern is, as any ratio- you get satisfaction from your job? Maybe, if you are a

nal man would be, that this transformation is rather incon- teacher, or a doctor, or something of that ilk, but for most

venient for him getting to work. Samsa finds himself nearly people? Far from it. Fewer and fewer people do, it seems.

unable to move, but with great effort, he hauls his newly When was the last time you took a sick day? What was it

gained bulk across the floor and discovers he has lost not for? How many times have you come into work sick, but

only his human form but his human speech. All that comes not sick enough that you could afford to go without pay?

out of his mouth now is an abominable chattering. Now, what would happen if you woke up with a

We are all Gregor Samsa, in this modern world. pain in your heart? Something that had never been there

Our lives have been sapped of all meaning. Think before, but surely it isn’t bad enough to get checked out.

for a moment, consider the job you do. What would hap- After all, medicine is so expensive, it’s probably nothing.

pen if you were to disappear one day? Would your posi- It’s worse the next day. And the day after that. And the

74 ECHOES

NONFICTION

week after that. Can you put a price tag on human life? Dick Cheney

Within a month, you are dead of cardiac arrest. For certainly seems to think so. He’d rate it around four thou-

much of America, this is the reality of life. sand dollars.

Are you not Gregor Samsa? Your life was put at Are you beginning to see it? We build homes with no

risk, and what was your first concern? Finances. Does that people in them. We starve while food is plentiful. We are

not make you sick? Are you not made physically ill at the charged hundreds for medicine that costs tens. We die in

idea that you can put a price tag on human life? Surely, wars that our representatives never have to fear.

you must be. You don’t think medicine is actually this ex- Why do you work at your job? How much do you

pensive to make, do you? It’s not. Do you know how much really mean, in the grand scheme of things? Who would

it costs to make an Epi-pen? About thirty dollars. miss you if you were gone? How much would really have

How much is it sold for? Three hundred dollars. changed had you never existed? Would the world, may-

A life-saving tool, a necessity just as great as food, be, even be a better place? Do you feel fulfilled by your

sold at a tenfold markup. I wonder now, why was the first life?

thought of Gregor Samsa that he would be late to work? Then what the fuck are you working towards? What

I ask you, can you price human life? Meridian cer- the fuck are you doing any more? What the fuck are any

tainly seems to think so. of us doing? We are all Gregor Samsa. Our relationships

Are you a construction worker? Have you worked degrade, our bodies bend and break, and all the while

on any housing projects, recently? I’m just curious, don’t our greatest concern is that we make our families less fi-

get defensive. How’s your house, by the way? Do you rent nancially stable. Our lives aren’t measured in years, they

an apartment? Is it nice? Did you know that there are six aren’t measured in meaning, they’re measured in dollar

times as many houses without people than there are peo- value.

ple without houses? Why do we live like this? This is not as it needs to be.

Can you put a price tag on human life? The housing I step forward to say that Candide was wrong. This is not

companies certainly seem to think so. the best of all possible worlds. This state is unnatural.

How’s your food? Got a nice, healthy diet? Or are Each and every one of us is unique. We hold within

fruits and vegetables too expensive? I wonder what Amer- us all a spark, a light, a special insight, an understand-

ica’s obesity problem is due to. It causes many health is- ing that has not and will not ever be replicated. You have

sues of course, and yet we throw away what, forty percent a passion, don’t you? Everyone does. Some people are

of groceries? More of the healthy ones, by the way. passionate about programming, some about art, some ar-

I wonder why there are people going hungry. I chitecture. We find automatization scary. What is scary

wonder why fruits are so expensive. I wonder why obesity about having to do less work? Why shouldn’t it be an oc-

is most common among poor households. I wonder why casion to celebrate? I ask you now to imagine the human

it’s so often comorbid with malnutrition. spirit unchained. The flame of the spirit burning as a pyre

Can you put a price tag on human life? within each and every man, woman and child you have

Do you remember the war in Iraq? Maybe, de- ever met. That flame lies within us, each and every one of

pends on how old you are. Four thousand American sol- us. It is simply stifled by the meaningless concerns of the

diers were killed in that war. Tragic, really. Four thousand material, those concerns forced upon us by this system.

human lives. Does it make you sick? It certainly makes me sick.

Oh, and three hundred thousand Iraqis. Dick Cheney You are not a bug. You are a man. Stand up for

is, of course, the former CEO of Haliburton. They got one yourself like one. Tradition exists to be ground beneath

point two billion dollars in a contract to kickstart Iraq’s oil your boot, systems to be shattered, oppression to be fought

industry after the war. against. Take action.

ECHOES 75

BUCKET LISTSECTION SECTION
Julia Carter

Ben tosses a cardboard box onto his bed, causing an enor-
mous amount of dust to rise and settle around us. I cough and wave my
hand in front of my face. Some of the dust settles into Ben’s black hair.
“How long has this been in your closet?” I entreat. He begins
counting on his calloused fingers, mouthing numbers.
“Well, I moved in with your family in fifth grade, so it’s been
about, oh I don’t know, seven years?”
“Has it really been that long since you and your mom came to
live with us?”
“And since your family saved us from my jerk of a father.” Ben
frowns for a split second, then chuckles lightly. “Forget about that, let’s
open this box!” He beams at me, the corners of his blue eyes bunching
up slightly. I return the gesture and glance at the crumbling box. Ben tugs
at the brittle yellow tape holding it together. With a single yank, the top
of the box flies open, and a sheet of paper floats out. It’s wrinkled and
slightly discolored, purple pen smudged all over it. I grab it midair and
scan it inquisitively. Eagerly, I thrust the paper toward Ben.
“Look! It’s the list!” I marvel. He wrinkles his eyebrows and smiles
quizzically.
“Dylan, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Read it! It’s the list we made when you first moved in, about
everything we would do when we got to high school.”
“No way!” Ben grabs the paper. His gaze falls over the paper,
and he’s engrossed for a solid minute. Looking up, he grins and says,
“I have an idea.” My eyes widen and I point at him.
“No! You’re making that face that means you want me to do
something incredibly stupid or ridiculous. Or both!” His smile stretches
towards his ears as if it’s gonna tear right off his face. I can’t help but
laugh.
“C’mon, hear me out,” he pleads. I pause, recalling some less-
than-ideal plans that Ben has had in the past.
“Fine,” I declare. “But we better not end up dead, injured, or
with terrible tattoos.”
“Pfft, of course we won’t. I was thinking; what if we were to do
everything on this list we haven’t done already?”
“Sounds interesting, but do we really want to commit to that
right now? We still have to prepare for college. Just because we got in
doesn’t mean we can’t get kicked out. Even if we’re not there yet.”
“It can be our last hurrah of high school! Accomplishing every-
thing we wanted to do. It’ll be awesome, trust me,” he says, placing a
hand on my shoulder. I sigh, conceding. I sarcastically throw my hands
up in exasperation.
“Let’s do it!” We lay on the bed, the old sheet of paper in front
of us.
Things We’ll Do In High School:
1.) Dye our hair cool colors
2.) Ditch school with a bunch of friends
3.) Buy clothes from that cool store in the mall that our parents
won’t let us shop at
4.)Get a letterman jacket, they’re super cool
5.) Have an epic party
6.)Make new friends

### ECHOES

SECTION SECTION

SHIMMERING
RAIN

Madison Dieffenbach

ECHOES ###

FICTION

SNOW Elissa grabbed her laptop from her desk and returned
to her sofa. She opened it, entered her password, and clicked
her way to the folder that held her stories. Her eyes wandered

ANGELS from document to document, each bringing back memories of
a time she had excitedly drafted plans for the story and mental-
ly immersed herself in the world she had created for it. Each title
had held so much hope as her younger self named an infant

story, the world and characters and emotions so alive in her

Josephine Stahl head as she imagined the masterpiece that would unfold on
those pages over the months.

Her poor sweet stories. Elissa had let them down too.
Elissa sat on the sofa beside her window and watched She had created these worlds and these characters only to
the snow fall. The sky was dark already, with soft white flakes abandon them, not finishing their tales after summoning them
tumbling noiselessly through the cold air and softening the into being.
sharp chill outside. Across the street, the neighbors’ Christmas
One at a time, she opened her stories and read them,
lights on the bushes of their garden were taking on an ethereal from the very first word to wherever she had left off. She owed
look as snow lightly blanketed the little multicolored bulbs. Faint them that much, at the very least.
glows of red and green, of blue and gold and pink, shone
And so Elissa sat on her sofa and read. Hours passed as
slightly muted through the dusting of tiny crystals.
she scrolled slowly through dozens upon dozens of old typed
It was beautiful outside, she thought. The world seemed pages. Outside, snow fell around her while she sat alone with
to have a mystical quality to it tonight, some sort of magic her stories, a girl in a snow globe.
brought on by the dark sky and the snow and the silence and
Occasionally Elissa smiled or laughed a little as she re-
the Christmas lights. It was the type of magic she wished she read a part that had especially pleased her. Other times the
could capture in words, conveying to readers everywhere sharp pangs of failure and guilt and loss stabbed through her.
how beautiful and otherworldly and enchanted her simple There was so much she had wanted to write, to send out into
hometown seemed tonight. But soon the sun would rise and the world, that would die unrealized tonight. Her mind was
the snow would melt and the softly powdered roads would be the one vessel upon which her delicate worlds and characters
busy with cars again, and the magic would be lost. It would be traveled. They relied upon her to give them life.
another empty day, more pointless hours sitting at her desk, full Her eyes began to burn in the harsh blue light of her screen.
of thoughts she couldn’t seem to write.
Elissa ignored it except to briefly wipe away the tears welling
The snowflakes flurried down in the brightness of the there, blurring her vision of her words.
streetlight, a magical sphere of glowing yellow illuminating
When the clock reached midnight, she didn’t even notice.
their soft shine. The streetlight seemed ugly and harsh to Elissa Her mind was silently traveling through all the things she’d tried
most evenings, but tonight she looked on it with a more charita- to capture or create in her writing. She relived middle-school
ble eye. Tonight it was beautiful. Tonight everything was beau- band concerts with glittering snowflake decorations adorning
tiful and magical and perfect and she could not do it justice. the gym and students suddenly elegant in their formal black
Tonight, she asked this beautiful world for forgiveness. and white instead of the casual clothes they wore every day.
There would be no cynicism in Elissa’s gaze as she took in all She read of high school sweethearts dancing close together
the loveliness around her, only a silent apology that she would at prom, blissfully lost in each others’ eyes. Through her care-
let it all melt away to be lost, to be forgotten, rather than pre- fully typed words, Elissa revisited lazy days of camping trips,
serving it with her words. Some days she felt the world had swinging in hammocks with her sister and sharing root beer.
failed her, but tonight was one of many times she had failed She remembered old beach trips where her younger, happier
the world.
self ran across the sun-scorched sand before it could burn her

78 ECHOES

bare feet and plunged, giggling, into the foaming waves of FICTION

the ocean. First kisses, lavender-tinged sunsets, old inside jokes Liesl Ament

with college friends, fragrant autumn leaves crunching under- ECHOES 79

foot; she lived them all one last time. Much of her writing had

been inspired by her own life; it was her way of preserving

the things she had loved best and giving them to a set of new

people: her characters. Others were things she only wished she

could have done herself, or things she had specially designed

just for a specific character of hers. Now all of them blended

together, fragments of imagined lives whirling through her head

in those few snow-dusted hours.

Elissa inhaled deeply. It was time to face facts. She’d

had years to make truly considerable progress on any of her

works, and she had failed. It was that simple. If she hadn’t been

able to do anything meaningful by now, it was unlikely she

ever would. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life dealing with

her failure, living in her tiny apartment waiting for the money

from her parents to run out and force her to get some meaning-

less job waiting tables or selling concessions. She had taken a

gamble, betting her future on success as a writer, and now she

was paying the price. Not everyone could do it, Elissa knew,

and she had risked everything in the hopes that she could. With

that hope proven wrong, there was nothing left for her to do.

Always when she felt like this, some little bit of hope

would eventually claw its way to the surface, but this time Elissa

gave in to the slowly suffocating tide of anguish and hopeless-

ness. She had to press back any silly irrational optimism that

came to her mind. It would only distract her. This was the best

thing she could do, and she couldn’t lose her resolve.

When she came back from the bathroom, tears on her cheeks,

Elissa took a pen from her desk and grabbed an old pack of

sticky notes. She carefully copied her password onto the top

note and set it beside her laptop. It seemed ironic to her that

as a writer, she would leave no other note. Only the key to her

stories.

The snow outside had deepened. The faint glints of the

neighbors’ Christmas lights were completely smothered now,

no hints of vibrant colors shining through the thick blanket of

snow. The streetlight, too, must have gone out at some point, for

the snowy night was completely devoid of light.

The hours slipped slowly by, the world outside stilling ATHENS

into a motionless, cold darkness.

MAHATMASECTION SECTION
KHANDI

Stella Shanker

Mahatma Khandi I want you to take a second from far and wide to practice battling each other in three
and imagine the strongest warrior there could ever be. weeks. He could debut his new battle tactic there! Khandi
Does the warrior have strong muscles? Is the warrior burly had a plan, and it was now set in motion.
and buff? Well, that is probably what the strongest war- Three weeks later, Khandi was hungry- and not just
rior would look like. However, this story is not about the for victory. He looked around at his opponents. One man
strongest warrior of all time. This story is about the greatest was tall, brawny, and had a thick handlebar mustache. He
warrior of all time. His name? Mahatma Khandi. was holding a rusty spear and was currently sharpening
Mahatma Khandi is the gray area between Ma- it with a rock. Piece of cake, Khandi thought. Mmm, cake.
hatma Gandhi and Genghis Khan. What happens when Another man was muscular, sturdy, and covered in battle
you take the man who is arguably the most well known scars. He held an ax that Paul Bunyan himself would have
nonviolent protester of all time and combine him with the quivered at the sight of. Small potatoes, Khandi thought.
man who established the largest land empire in history Oh, potatoes sound so good…
through brutal large-scale massacres? You create a man Suddenly, the cannon blast sounded and the
who, without a doubt, will go down in history. battle commenced. Khandi stood with as intimidating of
Khandi’s story begins with a dream. Ever since he was a stance as a scrawny man could and started looking
young, all he wanted to do in life was to become a war- around for warriors to battle. However, none of the tall,
rior that would be remembered for the rest of time. He strong men that he saw before could be found. Instead,
tried the -jitsus and the -jutsus, the paleo diet, veganism, he was surrounded by food. Did I accidentally attend a
and even that thing where you put a raw egg in the bot- competition of eating instead of a competition of defeat-
tom of your smoothie, but nothing worked. No matter ing? Khandi thought. I would prefer a competition of eat-
what he did, he could never conquer cities or massacre ing.
millions. He felt like a failure. He tried to get the build of He swiftly advanced on a slice of cheesecake,
famous warriors, but he always retained his lanky phy- completely forgetting about the task at hand. To his sur-
sique. It almost seemed like a completely different build prise, the cheesecake ran away from him. He stumbled
would be a better option? after the cheesecake before falling on his face, dying of
Suddenly, Khandi had an idea. He could start fast- starvation. Hundreds of years later, Khandi got reincar-
ing as a battle tactic. He figured that it would make him nated as the competitive eater, Joey Chestnut. If you have
smaller, and therefore more shifty in battle. By chance, any questions for him, you’d better wait until he’s done.
there happened to be a gathering of the greatest warriors His mouth might be full.

#8#0#ECECHHOOESES

SECTION SECTION

LILITHS
RETRIBUTION
Josh Abundo

ECHOES ###

NONFICTION

IT’S JUST LIKE
RIDING A BIKE

Alexia Moser at a slightly slower pace. The back of the car was approach-
ing. Fear took over,
I’ve been on bikes ever since I was a baby. When my seizing my muscles in a last ditch survival effort, causing me
sister and I were younger, my parents would put us in carri- to slam down on my front brakes. The world flipped upside
ers on the back of their bikes and go for rides through Rock down as I was thrown over the handlebars. I landed on
Creek Park. I learned how to ride myself when I was 5 or 6, my right side on the road. I had no injuries except for a few
using training wheels as I sped down our street or across the scrapes, but I was quite a bit shaken up, so I went home
tennis courts on my very own bright red bike. My sister and instead of going to practice.
I would ride around the streets of our neighborhood, lean- After the incident, doubt followed me around, caus-
ing low to the ground as we took curves and standing up ing me to second guess my relative safety doing everyday
in our pedals as we tore down hills. We would now go on activities I had done a thousand times before. I couldn’t bring
bike rides as a family, to Lake Frank or Needwood. At first, myself to even attempt to get on my bike again. Eventually, I
I would need help from my parents to get up the hill out of did purchase a new one.
Rock Creek, but soon I could do it by myself with no trouble The first time I had to ride down a hill again, I was on my
at all. In fifth grade, whenever my mom didn’t have to work, way to meet up with my friends for coffee. The path twisted
she would bike with me to school and then meet me after and turned, disappearing behind trees. I took a deep breath,
school to bike back home. In middle school, I would bike and then another.
to school by myself, with my clarinet secured to the back. I “Okay, Alexia. You got this. It’s just one hill. You’ve
biked to the pool, I biked to the shopping center. If I needed ridden down it a million times. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
to go somewhere, I biked. One summer weekend I took a Everything’s fine.”
bike trip with my mom and my sister all the way to Wash- I took a final deep breath in an effort to calm myself,
ington D.C. to meet up with cousins of ours. Eventually, the and then pushed off and began to pedal. The entire way
right-hand brakes on my bike, the ones that were attached down, I sat completely upright in my seat, my arms extended
to the back wheel, went soft from repeated use. Even when and rigid. I pressed down on the brakes, moving at a snail’s
the brake was pressed all the way in, the bike wouldn’t stop pace the whole time. Only when I reached the bottom of the
quickly. Despite bringing this up with my parents, I was as- hill could I let myself begin to relax.
sured that it was no big deal. And it didn’t seem to be. As I still can’t ride a bike without tensing up involuntarily.
long as I remembered to brake in advance, everything was Although I can force myself to relax and force myself to trust
perfectly fine. my bike and my brakes, there’s a constant fear that I’m going
The summer before my eighth grade, it all came to to fall again. This fear accompanies me on every bike ride,
a head. As my sister and I biked down our street to get to ready to leap out and take control at every patch of mud
the pool for swim practice, there was a car in front us which or steep downhill. I’m working on ignoring the fear hovering
slowed to a stop in anticipation of turning right. I hit my back over my shoulder, and getting back to enjoying the simple
brakes. Because they were soft, I continued skidding forward act of riding a bike.

82 ECHOES

NONFICTION

HAN Bryant Rivera

ECHOES 83

NONFICTION

WHAT HAPPENED IN
THE EIGHTH GRADE
Julia Carter

The three of us had always walked side by side through the halls. she cast me aside as she had? I knew that my actions had bothered
Somewhere in the last two years, however, the dynamics changed. I her, but maybe now she’d understand the frustration I felt by my friends
couldn’t say why; all I knew was that something felt different. So why deliberately keeping secrets from me. We went for three days without
was I surprised when it happened? It wasn’t even a big deal at first, just speaking to each other. In the classes we shared, Claire was silent. For
fun and games. My two friends, let’s call them Chloe and Quentin, were the entirety of lunch these days, she said nothing that was directed to me.
hanging out before the run-through of the school play. I wandered over Nevertheless, I apologized. My actions had been anything but perfect,
to the two of them in time to hear Quentin mention that someone has a but I was not the only one to blame. I only acted out because I was
crush on another one of our friends. “Who?” Intrigued, I joined the con- fed up with not being included. It was the only way I could get her to
versation like I had a million times before. My question was met with utter hear me. After I apologized, I forced myself to talk to Chloe. By the
silence. Quentin and Chloe shared a glance, then said in sync, “No one.” end of the day, I was ready to move on. I thought everything was fine,
I tried to shake off the strange and evasive synchronization of the two. that we’d walk to the buses together like normal. Except we didn’t. As I
The next day, when it was just Chloe and me in English class, I pressed closed my locker, I saw Quentin and Chloe exit the school together, not
her about it. I listed a few names of who I thought this mystery person bothering to wait for me. A wave of pain washed over me as I realized
might be. Chloe just shook her head. I decided that it wasn’t a big deal. once again, I was being left out. Things did not improve from there. Con-
That is, until lunchtime, when I found out that Chole had told other people. tinuing hostility from Quentin drove me crazy. Quentin said things like,
I was the only one who didn’t know. Let’s get things straight: I couldn’t “Julia’s really freaking weird,” and “Julia’s face is so red you can see her
have cared less about crushes. It was the pain from being excluded that eyebrows for once!” Quentin often called me obscene words when we
truly stung. And as my friends and I bantered at lunch, Chloe brought up passed in the hallway. One afternoon, as I was approaching my bus,
how funny it was that I was trying to guess the secret while everyone else Quentin turned around and called me multiple profane words. Caught
knew. “Yeah, Julia’s annoying,” Quentin responded, making my stomach off guard, I responded, “What?” “I can’t believe you broke up with your
churn. They meant is a joke, I told myself as I tried to brush off the feeling boyfriend over text!” Quentin shouts. I had to catch my breath before
of frustration. “Says you,” I smile back, jokingly. Though the words came getting onto the bus. My sunglasses hid my tears as I sat in the back seat,
out sarcastically, there was an edge to them, that if it had been noticed, quietly sobbing. I had only just told Chloe what had happened with my
would have revealed the hurt I felt. I had tried to put the whole situation boyfriend over the weekend. It was a moment after losing all trust in
out of my mind, I did. But things like forgiveness and trust had never come her when I felt like I could finally trust her again. But I was wrong. How
easy for me. Four days later, it was just Chloe and me at lunch together. ironic that someone would do anything to keep a secret from me, then
She had said to me the day before that I “should’ve gotten it by now.” turn around and tell everyone about something I told her in confidence.
That I should know who the person with a crush was. That comment is One month later, and the ridicule still hadn’t stopped. It was Cinco de
what pushed me over the edge. So I went home that day and printed out mayo and we were all sitting together at lunch. Quentin was having a
a list of all the people in our school. With just the two of us sitting at the conversation with someone we didn’t normally talk to. Suddenly, I hear
lunch table, I read off the names on the list, because if I listed everyone Quentin say, “We don’t know about Julia. She likes guys she can’t have
that it could be, I was bound to find the right person. But when I finished and then when she can have them, she breaks up with them.” That hurt in
the list and Chloe still hadn’t told me, I wanted to cry. Pent up frustration a way I can’t even begin to explain. It’s something that haunts me to this
hijacked my body. I read and reread the list over and over again. I knew day. Having just recently broken up with someone else, I found myself
this was petty. My heart was beating fast and my eyes were watery, coming back to what Quentin said at this moment. As much as I try to
though Chloe seemed oblivious. “It’s none of your business!” she blurt- forget what happened between Quentin and me, the past stays with me.
ed angrily. “But it’s everyone else’s? All our other friends’ business?” I I can’t escape the memories of feeling like I had no worth. I can’t escape
spit back, fire behind my words. “Well, they’re actually friends with the the ridicule and hateful words Quentin said to me. I can’t forget that there
person.” I was taken aback. How could the person I considered to be was a time when my best friend was a distant stranger.
my best friend keep something from me, but no one else? How could

84 ECHOES

REMEMBER
WHEN

YOU’D SING
Cecelia Funk

FICTION

THE RISE & FALL
OF PADRARKOVAN
Liesl Ament

“I’m bored,” said Marko. He had been picking his cuticles five people recognize it as a country.”
for the past hour and tossing the dead flakes of skin out the window, “Nice.” Padric rose from the beanbag and joined them.
but the activity grew tiresome. “Guys!” Marko hollered, dropping his phone. “We should
On the other side of their childhood tree house, Ivan was make our own micronation!”
web surfing on his phone. “So?” “I’m down,” Padric said. “Do I get to be president?”
“I’m booooored,” Marko repeated. He stared out the win- “Sure, why not.” Ivan shrugged. “If it shuts you up, I’ll help
dow at their neighborhood in Desinić, Croatia. Nothing appealed you.”
to him. They got right down to business. Padric designed a flag,
Ivan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Why can’t you be Ivan wrote the constitution, and Marko came up with the name.
more like Padric over here?” He gestured to their small Czech friend “Gentleman and Padric, I am pleased to announce the new
asleep in a beanbag chair. “He doesn’t complain when he’s bored.” micronation of Padrarkovan!” Marko clapped ecstatically. “Secre-
Marko insisted, “Padric is lame.” Immediately, Padric snored. tary Padric, please unveil your flag design.”
“Dude, I’m gonna leave if you don’t be quiet.” Without his “Check it out!” Padric held up his phone, on which he had
gaze wavering from the phone screen, Ivan pushed his glasses into colored the Pardrakovan flag: red, white, and yellow. In the middle
his dyed white hair. was a red shield.
Marko stretched his arms. “What are you looking at?” Ivan squinted. “This is the Croatian flag with a yellow stripe
“Wikipedia.” instead of a blue one.”
“Why?” “Nonsense!” Marko hollered. “Now that we’ve established
“Because I am a nerd.” Ivan glanced up briefly. Padrarkovan, we must get recognized!”
“Hey, there’s a random page button on there, right?” Marko They clambered out of the treehouse, into Marko’s car, and
slinked to the other side of the treehouse. “Can you find a random peeled out of Desinić. Destination: Zagreb, the capital of Croatia.
article? Maybe there’ll be something interesting on it.” When they got there, Padric had already created a Wikipedia arti-
Ivan harrumphed as if Marko had asked him to give up some cle about Padrakovan.
noble sacrifice. “Fine.” He hit the refresh button. “Prime Minister Andrej Plenković,” Marko yelled, walking
“Akhzivland,” Ivan read, “is a micronation between Nahari- into Zagreb’s legislative building. “We need a favor!”
ya and the Lebanese border on the Israeli west coast.” Prime Minister Plenković popped his head out of his office.
“Micronation? The heck is that?” Marko whipped out his “Oh, Marko! I was just reading the Wikipedia article about your
own phone. After a few minutes of reading, he yelped. “Ivan! This new country.”
dude founded a micronation named Celestia, and it is literally the “Good!” Marko’s hands were on his hips. “I hope you are
entire universe except Earth.” willing to recognize our treehouse as an autonomous region.”
“Bruh.” Ivan looked up from his phone. He didn’t smile but “Oh I’ll do you better than that, Mr. Marko,” Prime Minister
said, “That’s actually amusing.” Plenković said. He dropped a key into Marko’s hand. “Croatia has
“Hey, there’s a micronation on the other side of Croatia!” been in a state of political turmoil for years. I think that Padrarkovan
Marko clicked on the link. should take it over.”
Padric stirred. “Uhhh… what’s going on?” “Really?!” Marko’s eyes popped out of his head.
“We’re researching micronations,” Ivan explained. “Yes!” Prime Minister Plenković grinned. “Have fun dealing
Padric squinted at him. “Micro whats?” with Slovenia!” Then he walked out of the building.
“Micronations,” Marko said. “They’re like countries but only “What do we do now?” Padric asked, staring at the key in

86 ECHOES

FICTION

Marko’s hand. “Me too,” Ivan replied. “That’s enough to buy ourselves a
“Now we expand our influence even further.” Marko stared little island in the Carribean.”
into the distance dramatically. “Marko is gonna be so jealous when we go on vacation
The key, as it turned out, unlocked Croatia’s entire armory. without him,” Padric said.
Marko, Padric, and Ivan boarded a tank and rolled to the border “I don’t care.” Ivan rolled his eyes. “He’d probably get
between Croatia and Slovenia. bored of his private beach in two minutes.”
“President Pahor of Slovenia!” Marko yelled across the bor- “True.” Padric laughed as they boarded a private jet. Earn-
der. “Surrender to the mighty Padrakovan empire!” ing fifty quadrillion dollars had never been so easy.
Slovenian troops aimed their weapons at his tank, but their
bullets bounced off the artillery. President Pahor waved a white flag, BERCETO Daniela Colombi
and Marko rolled his tank into Slovenia. But it wasn’t Slovenia any-
more, it was a newly annexed territory of Padrarkovan.
Marko, Ivan, and Padric split up. Marko continued his cru-
sade west, invading Austria, Italy, Switzerland, and France. He
stopped in Monaco for a bite to eat before continuing into Spain.
Ivan ventured east. He asked nicely and Putin gave him the whole
country of Russia. After that, Mongolia and -stan countries proved
to be easy captures.
Padric walked through Kosovo and North Macedonia. His
feet hurt by the time he reached Greece, but luckily President Pav-
lopoulos offered Padric a ride in his private jet. Then he flew into Tur-
key, Syria, and Lebanon. He didn’t bother invading Israel; he knew
how that would turn out.
Later that afternoon, they all met up in the capital of Padrar-
kovan, Treehouseville.
“Not bad for only fives hours of conquering,” President
Marko observed.
“I’d say we’re the biggest micronation the world has ever
seen!” Padric chirped.
An alert sounded on Ivan’s phone. “Prime Minister Phuc is
attacking our Southern borders.”
“Ask him nicely to go away,” Marko said, turning to look out
the window.
Ivan did so and then reported, “Padrarkovan has officially
absorbed Vietnam into its borders.”
“Awesome!” Padric said. Both he and Ivan turned to Marko.
“Where are we going next, dude?”
Marko started in the suburbs of Treehouseville. “I don’t care.
I’m bored.”
“What?” Ivan blanched. “But what about Padrarkovan? Pu-
tin was so nice to give us Russia, and now you’re just gonna throw
all that territory away?”
“Yeah.” Marko sat down on the bean bag. “You can give it
back, or you can keep it. I don’t really care.”
Padric and Ivan exchanged a glance.
An hour later, they were shaking hands with President Trump.
“I’m so glad we sold Padrarkovan to America for the price
of fifty quadrillion dollars,” Padric said to Ivan.

ECHOES 87

SECTION SECTION

THE
UPROOTED
Josh Abundo

### ECHOES

AMELIA EARHART:
WOMAN OF MARS
Liesl Ament

Amelia Earhart was born on July 24th, 2017 in Atchison, Kansas. hours and fourteen minutes on the surface of Mars. She took extensive notes
Daughter to a lawyer and homeschooled by her mother, Earhart was a ram- about gravity’s effects on her. One famous photograph shows Earhart eager-
bunctious tomboy whose obsession with aerodynamics overtook her child- ly high-fiving the Mars rover Curiosity. This stellar achievement earned Earhart
hood. Earhart’s mother was always buying her new skateboards and bikes the nickname ‘Woman of Mars’.
after Earhart crashed her previous ones. Atchison’s sporting goods stores An excited public welcomed Earhart and Noonan back to Earth.
swore “Mrs. Earhart was [their] best customer.” For a while, Earhart’s popularity surpassed that of pop moguls North West or
Earhart didn’t spend all her time outside. On weeknights, Earhart Kulture Cephus. Earhart and Noonan flew across the globe, speaking about
would sit in front of her laptop for hours and watch YouTube videos detailing their flight and inspiring hope and pride among everyone with whom they
space exploration. She would do her AP Calc homework and eat bowls of spoke. It became apparent that human colonization of Mars was approach-
ramen noodles while listening to podcasts about the physics of rocket launch ing rapidly. Who better to speak about such groundbreaking topics than the
and reentry into the atmosphere. Her favorite school field trips took her to Woman of Mars herself?
institutions such as the Air and Space Museum, where she learned about Though Eahart never felt called to marry, she voiced an interest in
famous pilots Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman to fly a plane, and Sally raising children. In 2054, Earhart began a family life when she adopted her
Ride, who was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. Teenage first child, 14-year-old Harry Earhart. Motherhood was an exciting new chal-
Earhart’s most grand desire was to imitate the groundbreaking feats of these lenge for her, but Harry expressed deep affection for his mother in the follow-
powerful people. ing years. In 2055, Earhart adopted 12-year-old Isabella Earhart, who coin-
Sadly, the rising tuition cost of American college had Earhart strug- cidentally had an affinity for space exploration. Earhart’s best friend, Eleanor
gling to find a way to pay for college, especially after alcoholism cost her Roosevelt, was like an aunt to the kids. “She was Amelia’s best friend,” Harry
father his job. Even with scholarships, Earhart took on countless odd jobs recalled, “and she lived right next door, too.” If Earhart was ever working late
to make her way into the US Aviation Academy. In 2034, she posted a at NASA, Roosevelt would be in the kitchen making salsa for her niece and
GoFundMe on the Internet and, over the course of several months, raised nephew.
$9,000 dollars towards her tuition. She entered the academy in the following Throughout those years, Earhart often left her best friend and children
year, 2035. on Earth to participate in more space adventures. She made countless trips to
Earhart knew what she wanted to do: land on Mars, and be the first the stars between 2053 and 2056. Although much of her work was routine,
person to do so. Even by 2040, Mars was still unexplored territory. While Earhart never tired of visiting the vast expanse of space.
robots had made plenty of trips, and even the acclaimed Charles Lindbergh In 2057, Earhart began another scheduled mission to Mars. She was
had orbited Mars in his Spirit of St Louis, no human had set foot on the rusty- to spend two Earth days on Mars, reporting back on robots and the structures
red surface. To land on Mars would secure Earhart a position in aeronautic that had been built in the past decade. Earhart and Noonan took off for
history. Mars on July 2nd, 2057. When they departed on their ship, Electra, Earhart
By 2047, Earhart had risen through the ranks of the revived NASA was 22 days away from her 40th birthday.
space program. Even though the U.S. economy struggled to recover after the Two weeks into the flight, NASA suddenly lost all contact with Elec-
War of 2020, NASA was one of the few programs that was well-funded. tra. Attempts to contact them in the following weeks were unsuccessful. NASA
In a controversial Q&A livestream, Earhart joked, “Everyone is funding us and Roosevelt waited helplessly on Earth for the estimated time of arrival,
because they want to get off this awful planet as fast as possible.” early February. Video footage, courtesy of Curiosity, proved that Earhart and
Earhart worked wonderfully in the space shuttles. She quickly be- Noonan never reached Mars. Roosevelt petitioned for a search party, but
friended fellow astronaut Fred Noonan. They often performed simulations ultimately it was decided to be a waste of NASA’s resources for such a futile
together. Noonan, however, never came close to matching the speed and search.
precision with which Earhart handled the shuttle. Noonan would be Earhart’s To this day, the disappearance of the Electra remains an unsolved
first mate in her trip to Mars. mystery. Conspiracy nuts theorized that Earhart and Noonan had been ab-
In 2048, NASA gave Earhart the green light for her trip to Mars. ducted by aliens. Some hypothesized that a stowaway had hijacked the ship
After years of rigorous training, Earhart and Noonan departed Earth in 2051, and killed the pilots. Others simply believed that Electra ran out of power. Per-
on course for Mars. Later interviews revealed Earhart beheld the trip as “si- haps Earhart and Noonan are living the rest of their lives on an alien planet,
multaneously boring and breathtaking.” When Earhart and Noonan entered surrounded by cheerful locals. Or perhaps Earhart and Noonan are floating
Mars’ orbit, it had been 4,689 hours after the beginning of the flight, equiv- through space for all eternity. The mystery is unsolved and likely will remain
alent to roughly 61⁄2 months. On May 20th, 2052, mission control received that way. Nevertheless, Earhart was a groundbreaking astropilot, and there’s
a video broadcast: Earhart stepped onto the rusty surface of Mars, the first no better resting place for the Woman of Mars than a never ending voyage
human in history to do so. With Noonan piloting the ship, Earhart spent two through space.

NONFICTION

NATURE’S EYES Christina Belluscio

90 ECHOES

FEAR NONFICTION

Daniel Covino

When fear first came about, it was meant to save us. We fear bears, tigers, and other people with
pointy sticks. This is a normal fear, it’s part of being human. But as we grew, our fears grew with us. And now, I
am left with a dilemma I don’t know how to solve. I don’t think I’m alone.
I am afraid of, well, myself. That fear that was meant to let us survive has twisted in on itself, and be-
come my enemy.
Then I need to ask, what am I afraid of about myself? Well, I know what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of some part
of my mind in the back that’s strange, that’s incoherent, that’s gibberish. Sometimes that part consumes me,
takes me over, and I go, for lack of a better word, mad. I speak like I’m in Shakespeare, my thoughts walk
strange connections, and it all feels wonderful. It’s a high, total assurity that what I’m thinking, even if it is non-
sensical to someone else, makes perfect sense. This utter surity of what is right, and what I need to do, and this
strange perspective on everything.
But when I come out, it’s not that anymore. It’s like some other person or force took me, and I was
thrashing about madly. Sometimes I make decisions I regret when I’m like that. I came out when I was like that,
and I regret that choice.
I speak in circles, attempting to describe something you probably don’t understand, whoever “you”
are. Reader, I am reaching out to you, asking if you understand. I am afraid of some component of myself,
and so I reject it. I reject it, and so it becomes less myself, more alien, more terrifying. But I’m afraid to reject it,
because I’m afraid of losing myself… To myself.
What strange creatures we are.
I can’t embrace it because I don’t really even know if it exists, but if it does I might lose myself to it. I
can’t reject it because I don’t really know if it exists, and if I do the more I push it away, the less me it becomes,
and the more I might be consumed by it.
If I take it into myself, it simply becomes me, and I can’t lose myself to myself. If I push it away, it be-
comes another, and I can lose myself to something else. So I must embrace it, but what even is it? Is it a mental
illness? Is it just a side effect of medication? How am I to embrace something I don’t even know?
Anxiety, it’s what this is called. The fear of something that might or might not come about. I’m not afraid
of the tiger, I’m afraid that there may eventually be a tiger. But how can one be afraid of something that doesn’t
really exist? How can we fear what might simply never come about? A mystery of the human mind, but certainly
one that we all know. It’s a part of rational thought. Why do we fear the tiger? Well, we fear the tiger because
it might hurt us. But once again, there’s a might. Fear itself is all over what might happen, or what we expect to
happen. You can’t be afraid of something that’s already happened, you can’t be afraid that the tiger that’s al-
ready mauled you is going to maul you for the first time. Fear is an emotion of the future, only ever felt for what
could be.
That is a strange thing, if I am to be truthful.

ECHOES 91

FICTION

THE LONG ROAD
THAT NEVER ENDS

Nicholas Stillwell

One day, Jake and a couple of his friends were listen- and headed for the paranormal site. On their way there they
ing to the radio. They were listening to a station that told mys- were overwhelmed with excitement and nervousness. Jake
terious stories, and tales. The thing about these stores was that was very scared but yet nervous. He’s been waiting his whole
they were based off of real life occurrences. The radio station life to do something like this. He was getting more excited after
would talk about real places in the town, where paranormal they started to get closer to the site.
activity was reported. Jake and his friends listened to this radio “Were approaching the road now.” States Devin who
broadcast every afternoon after school. This radio broadcast was one of Jake’s good friends.
always came on the air around 3:30 PM. Jake was a kid who “Just in time because it’s going to be spookier now that
was really into scary stories, ghost hunting, and paranormal the sun is setting.” added Byron who was Jake’s trueest friend.
occurrences. The radio broadcasts paranormal sightings in “I am excited for this guys, I’ve been waiting my whole
towns all across the east coast, but Jake and his friends nev- life for something like this to happen for me.” saturated Jake in
er heard of their towk having a paranormal site. But this day excitement.
that changed. Jake and his friends were listening to the radio The boys all jumped out of the truck when they got there.
broadcast on that Friday the 13th, and as they were listen- At first they looked spooky and they started to get scared. They
ing they heard a paranormal site right in their town. The ra- looked around to see if they could find any signs of para-
dio broadcast captured the boys’ attention quickly when they normal activity but they couldn’t find anything. They looked at
heard the name of their town. the street sign to make sure that they were in the right place.
The boys heard the radio translate, “On today’s broad- The name of the street sign matched the name of the street
cast we will be exploring the long road that never ends. This that the radio said. They called the radio station to make sure
road is located in Krockersville Maryland. The road is sup- that they were talking about the site in their state. The radio
posedly the spookiest road with a lot of frequent paranormal station apologized to the boys for driving to the site and get-
occurrences. This road is sait to take five hours to drive through ting their hopes up, because it turns out the radio broadcast
entirely. The road is said to be the scariest road in America. told fake stories that they claimed to be real. The radio station
Many who dare to drive on the road have not made it out confessed to Jake and his friends that the paranormal activity
alive. Are you willing to take the journey on this road?” claims about the street that they are at were fake, and that it’s
The boys jumped with excitement. They knew that they just a normal neighborhood street that looks creepy at night. It
were going on that journey to the long road that never ends, was a waste of time for the boys and Jake was devastated.
even if it killed them. Jake and his friends were waiting for an After that false event happened Jake gave up on ghost
opportunity to do something out of the ordinary, and sary, and hunting, until one day he heard whispers coming from his old
dangerous. It was Jake’s dream to hunt for paranormal activity, rusty truck… The End!
and now he finally had a golden opportunity to do it.
Jake and his friends ran out to Jake’s old and rusty truck,

92 ECHOES

ALWAYS SOMETHING Christina Belluscio

FICTION

LIFE AND DEATH
Liesl Ament

Olivia gripped her seatbelt as Laine swerved into the right “Doesn’t matter right now,” Laine said. He didn’t even
line. glance over. “Don’t you see that, Olivia?!”

“OMG, slow down!” she screeched over the roar of the Olivia swallowed, but fear had left her mouth dry. “It’s

wind. The windows were down, and Olivia’s hair flew all 5:58. We’re not gonna make it!”

over the place, sticking to the gloss on her lips. In short: she

was not having a good time. “I told you, we’ll make it,” Laine assured her. He flicked on

his turn signal. He braked hard as he turned onto the next

“Olivia!” Laine responded. Olivia watched his hands road. “Almost there, I swear!”

tighten on the steering wheel. “This is a matter of life and

death!” Olivia looked over. Laine’s brow was furrowed in unwav-

ering concentration. His maniacal smile sent chills down

“I don’t care! Slow down before I call the cops!” her back.

This only spurred Laine on. He revved the engine. The “OMG, I got into a car with a sociopath,” she said.

speedometer needle shot past 60 mph. A speed limit sign

whizzed past. Olivia couldn’t even read it. “Like I said”—Laine finally slowed to an acceptable

speed—“this is a matter of life and death.”

“We’re gonna make it,” Laine said in a low voice. “We

have to make it.” They pulled into a parking lot. Laine’s parking job was utter

crap. Laine leapt out of the car without a second thought.

“At least put the windows up!” Olivia scrambled to follow him. They walked into the pris-

tine white building before them.

Laine pressed a button. The windows went up. One prob-

lem was solved. Olivia’s nerves were absolutely fried.

But Olivia was still certain she was speeding to her death. Laine’s steps were decisive and hurried. He pushed through

the doors and walked right up to the person in charge.

They whizzed through a red light. Terror clawed at Olivia’s

stomach like a hungry cat. He leaned in and said, “A dozen donuts. Fresh, please.”

“OMG!” Olivia said, whipping her head back to look at The girl behind the counter smiled. “You came just in time

the intersection. “You’re gonna get a ticket!” for the fresh batch.”

94 ECHOES

Laine turned to Olivia and winked. “6 o’clock on the dot.” FICTION

The server gave him a box, Laine paid, and the duo sat Cecelia Funk
down at a window seat.
ECHOES 95
Olivia ran a hand through her tousled hair. “We didn’t
have to get here at exactly six.”

“Au contraire, mademoiselle,” Laine said. He opened the
box to display twelve perfectly round, freshly baked do-
nuts. Olivia’s mouth watered at the saccharine scent.

“Imagine,” Laine continued, “going eighteen years without
tasting freshly baked donuts from Quick Bite Donuts.” He
picked up a pastry and ate it in two bites.

“Some of us aren’t as cultured as you.” Olivia smiled and
grabbed a donut of her own. When she took a bite, her
eyes widened. “OMG, this is delicious?!”

“Told ya.” Laine nodded approvingly.

Olivia devoured a few more, and Laine ate his fair share
as well.

“Okay, well, I guess I understand why you had to break
fifty traffic regulations to get here. Thanks for treating me.”

“No prob.” Laine playfully punched her arm. “It was a
matter of life and death.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and ate another donut.

ICARUS FLEW

COLOPHON
Echoes was created to offer students an opportunity to voice their experiences through
emotional pieces of poetry, prose, and art. This literary arts magazine is an annual publication made
entirely by the students of Rockville High School in Rockville, Maryland. The staff consists of about
60 9th-12th grade students who meet in English teacher Sean Pang’s classroom every Tuesday of the
school year. At weekly meetings, staff members discuss pieces, fundraising, and special events.
Students submit their pieces through the Echoes website, www.rhsechoes.com, or through email,
[email protected]. Submissions are first organized to their appropriate section in art, fiction,
nonfiction, or poetry, and staff members of each section review those pieces anonymously. The review
process includes using special rubrics for each section, rating the pieces numerically, and selecting
the highest rated pieces to put in the publication. Art submissions are reviewed on their demonstration
of the elements of art, principles of design, and overall theme. Prose is reviewed based on originality,
plot, and writing style. In poetry, submitted poems are critiqued based on originality, purpose,
language fluency, structure, and voice. The reviewing process primarily takes place on Google
Classroom, as staff members are sent submitted pieces alongside a rubric. Every piece in the
magazine, including art, is student made.
The publication is printed by Bright Printing. The inside pages are printed on #80 lb Glossy
Text and the cover page is printed on #100 lb Matte. The front cover is the photo, Arachnid Nest,
by Josh Abundo. Titles, body text, and captions are set in Futura PT. Adobe InDesign CC 2020 was
used in the design of spreads while Adobe Photoshop CC 2020 was used in the editing of art pieces.
No preset templates are used in the designing of the magazine as all spreads are newly created by
design manager Olivia Turner. The magazine is funded by numerous fundraisers such as Rockville’s
Got Talent, Valentine’s Day Rose Grams, restaurant nights, donations from Back to School night, and
by grants from the PTSA. The release of the magazine is May 2021.

THANK YOU

Mr. Sean Pang, our loving advisor
Rockville High School English Department
Rockville High School Art Department
Rockville High School Administrators
Rockville High School PTSA

and most importantly, the hardworking family of Echoes

96 ECHOES

Echoes is a literary arts magazine compiled of works from
students of Rockville High School. Each volume is made by

the students, for the students.
Echoes is a nonprofit organization.

2100 Baltimore Road
Rockville, Maryland 20851

USA

THE UPROOTED BY JOSH ABUNDO (BACK COVER) ECHOES 97