March

Most of you have most likely grown up visiting zoos, and to a large percentage of people it is a great place for young people to explore the wild. While it may be true that zoos educate people about animals, the animals in them have a much lower quality of life than in the wild. Given this reason, zoos should be banned.

           As Mimi Bekhechi remarks in National Geographic on September 13th 2021, “Animals in zoos suffer tremendously, both physically and mentally.” Zoos put animals on display for our enjoyment. What is to say that we get to deny their rights to entertain ourselves. There are other better 

options to visit than a zoo that promote more to caring for the animals rather than showing off animals to the public such as an animal sanctuary or a national park.

           A lot of you are probably thinking, ‘What about all the good things zoos do for animals? While zoos do have some positive aspects like funding, conducting studies, and protecting endangered species, many zoos do not have sufficient regulations . As EcoCation discussed on October 18, 2023, “Many zoos are free to treat their animals however they want.” Along with that, regular polar bear enclosures are one million times smaller than those they would inhabit in the wild. 

           In conclusion, I don’t know what to put this is a placeholder for now. Zoos are prisons for animals masking their immorality and cruelty with conservational claims. I hope that next time you are thinking about visiting a zoo you decide to take a better alternative and not support an animal prison.

Four extraordinary beings make their way on a quest with an unknown ending for these heroes. Gwen Gwenhwyfar, Harper Rose, Jason Thrax, and Liam Borgattie. They are lost in a mystical and enchanted forest and get captured by goblins. The only way to escape is to pass a challenge that challenges their trust, friendship, and self confidence. Will they make it? Or will they have to face a painful doom.

Four best friends lived in a small village outside of the kingdom called Otsberry. Jason was the son of a farmer and loved adventure. Gwen loved fighting and lived with her widowed mom on the east side of the village. Liam was also the son of two loving farmers and had a knack for gadgets. Finally, Harper loved animals and nature and lived nearest to the castle for her father was a soldier at the castle. 

One day the village suffered a terrible catastrophe. A villager who owned a farm ran screaming into town. “My goats are being attacked by giant boars!” Everyone came running. 

True to his word, four giant boars were ramming against the gate where six frightened goats were running around in a panic. Five guards ran up and unsheathed their swords. The boars looked up, saw the swords, turned and ran. 

The wizard that lived in the village named Bozzlebeeber came up and spoke. “This has never happened before," he said. “But do not fear, I have a solution. I will send four brave souls to seek out the magic scroll of legend and bring it back to protect us. Who dares venture into the unknown?”

He then proceeded to pick out four beings. “You four," he said, pointing at the four friends. “You will do nicely.”

“We are just kids. What could we do?" asked Jason. 

“I have good faith in you four," the wizard said. “But before you go, I must give you something to help you on your journey”. 

He then proceeded to produce three items. One was a magic flute. He gave this to Harper. Then there was a wand made from elder bark which he gave to Jason. Then there was a healing potion which he gave to Liam. Finally, he had a knife which was made of obsidian which he gave to Gwen. 

“Now," said the wizard,”make us proud.”

Jason, Gwen, Liam, and Harper stand at the edge of the enchanted forest, staring into the dark depths of the uncharted territory. "Are you all ready?," Jason asks. "Yes.", they all say. They step into the forest and get swallowed by the darkness. 

As their eyes adjust to the dark, they see that the forest canopy is so dense that little light shines in from outside. They see large figures in the trees and grow more terrified with each step. 

Then, out of the darkness, steps a figure. A colossal figure the size of a mountain. It was an ogre. The ogre raised its club and prepared to bring down upon the four figures on the ground. "Move!", Jason yells. They run in opposite directions to confuse the ogre. Harper grabs the flute given to her by the wizard and blows into it. 

Suddenly, the trees come to life and start to bombard the ogre with apples from their leafy bows and smack it with their offshoots. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. The ogre ripped up the trees by their roots and broke them over his knee. 

Then a dragon flew out of the sky and released its fire upon the ogre, scorching it till it looked like a well done souffle. Surprised, wounded, and with a fire lighting up its gluteus maximus, the ogre fled into the trees and out of sight. The dragon landed and they could see that there was a person riding on top of the dragon. It was a dragon rider.

The dragon rider lands in front of the group. He takes off his helmet and they back up, wary of this foreign being. 

“Hi, my name is Daniel. If I may, who are you?”

“My name is Jason and these are my friends Harper, Liam, and Gwen”. 

“Hey," says Gwen. 

“How are you?" Liam says. 

Daniel explains that he had been taking his regular flight path when he saw the ogre. He also explained how the dragon rider clan hated ogres for trying to eat dragons in the past. 

“Hop on,"  says Daniel. 

We all climb on and the dragon takes off. The wind raced past my face and the thrill of an adrenaline rush flowed through them. After a little bit of riding they swerve to the right and head straight towards a rock wall.

“Um, Daniel,” says Gwen.

“Yes”

“You're heading straight towards a solid wall!!!!,” screams Harper.

They are inches away from the wall and suddenly, they go straight through it. Then they are on the other side with a beautiful place spread out beneath them.

“Wow,” breathed Liam.

Before them was a vast green valley filled with trees and volcanoes. The best part was the thousand of dragons flying around inside of this place. As they were landing, eight dragons flew down to them and started to talk at once.

“Yes, I know you all are happy to see me after Cirus here sent out a long frequency emergency alert,” said Daniel.

“You heard that?! But that was my quietest yet,” says Cirus incredulously.

“Next time, don’t open your mouth like you're swallowing a flamanania,” says Daniel.

“If I may, do you know which way leads to the golden scroll? We are kind of on a time crunch here,” says Gwen. 

“Just head south and take a right at crescent rock which looks like a giant turtle. If you pass a field of flowers, you went too far,” says Daniel.

“Thanks,” says Gwen.

“Oh, and watch out for the goblins. They love to take people prisoners.”

“Will do,” said Liam.

As they set off they reach another forest. When they enter it they are cautious because of Daniel’s warning. When they are about 40 feet into the trees, they get snatched up by a net and get pulled into a tree. Then out of the tree slide two fat ogres who load them into a wooden wagon.

“Oh we really got a good sack today. And you were going to give up,” said goblin number 1.

“But they are only children,” says goblin number 2.

“Can you make up your mind? If we are going to die I’d rather get it over with soon and not when my grandkids grandkids have grandkids. We are already here you nitwits,” says Gwen impatiently.

They were told that if they could pass the challenges of trust, friendship, and self-confidence then they would get the scroll that they desired.

“Let the games begin,” Gwen said.

Jason and Liam face the challenge of trust. Liam is placed up on a high point and needs to trust that Jason will make sure he lands on the ground safely. They are surrounded by a ring of fire and lava.

 "Are you okay up there?" Jason asks. 

"I'm okay,"  Liam says, "but how am I going to get down?" 

Jason has been practicing his magic at night while they had been traveling and said that he could lift Liam off the point but he had to jump. 

Jason yells to Liam, "Jump! I'll float you down safely. I promise!" 

Liam was hesitant to just jump off but he trusted his friend and jumped. Jason, as promised, created a float spell and it hit Liam, suspending him in mid-air. He slowly floated down to the ground where he collapsed shakily to the ground. They had done it. They completed the challenge. The next one was friendship.

 It's Harper and Gwen's turn to face the challenge of friendship. In this situation, they are slowly sinking into a sand pit with a cage around them. The only way to get out

is if they each tell their deepest darkest secret to each other. They have been through

a lot together and they don't want to ruin their friendship with the knowledge they're

about to share. 

Harper blurts out, “I love Liam and we have been dating for months now.”

“What! How have you not told me about this? Or anyone for that matter?” Gwen asks.

“I was afraid of your reaction.”

“Well my reaction is startled, confused, and happy-ish for you.”

“Well if we want to get out of here quickly before we all die you have to share a secret Gwen.”

“Okay, I want to join the dragon rider clan. It was awesome being inside of there and I loved riding the dragon. If I don;t then I will live my life regretting it. Unfortunately, that would mean leaving my family, friends and village. I hope you understand,” says Gwen.

For a moment Harper was speechless then she started to speak.

“I don;t know what to say. I support you wholeheartedly but are you ready to leave everything you know to join something that could get you killed?,” asks Harper.

“Yessss!!!!! More than anything,” says Gwen.

All of a sudden, the quicksand disappeared and they were standing on a solid stone floor.

They all moved on to the final challenge: self-confidence. They are all given their final challenge. In front of Jason his childhood bully appeared out of the sand in front of them. Gabe.

“Long time no see Loser! Wait, sorry, I don’t talk to losers. Ha!,” said Gabe. 

“I have gotten older and there is something I wanted to tell you for a while,” says Jason calmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that loser!” asks Gabe cheekily.

“When did I ask? You are a lowlife bully who enjoys seeing other people get hurt because of your actions. Well get out of my life for good!” Jason yells in Gabe’s face.

Then he started crumbling into a little pile of sand. He had done it. 

“But what about the others,” he thought.

Gwen is facing her adoptive parents.

“How are you dear?,” asks her mother.

“How am I? You left me to die on the streets! You never cared about me or anything to do with me!,” Gwen screamed with tears in her eyes.

“You know what? She’s right. We never cared about you. We left you to die because we didn’t want you. You are worthless to us. Remember that and don’t ever forget it!,” says father harshly.

“Well I don’t care. You treated me like trash but I got back up and now I’m going to do what I came here to do. Save the world.,” says Gwen heroically.

Just like Jason her parents crumbled until there was nothing left except a little pile of sand.

Harper stands before her former best friend named Samantha at the orphanage.

“Hey giiiiiirl!!,”

“Hey,” says Harper flatly.

“Look up,” said Samantha.

A bucket of water sand dumped onto Harper.

“This is why I unfriended you, jerk!,” said Harper.

“But it’s fun seeing you suffer through my pranks.”

“I am tired of you taking pleasure in my discomfort so I am finally putting an end to it,”

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?,” says Samantha.

“Yeah! Look up,”

“Ahhh!,”

A pile of sand falls on her crushing her back into sand. Everyone had completed theirs except Liam and he was next.

In front of Liam was the prettiest girl that ever lived. At least to Liam.

“You have to ask her he told himself,”

Eventually, he stepped forward and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and faced him.

“Yes? Liam, right?,” she asks.

“Um…..um……….um…………...um….,” he stutters.

“Um, this is getting awkward. I’m leaving,” she says.

“Wait, will you go with me to the school dance?,” he shouts.

“Me?,” she says.

“Who else!,” he says.

“Yes, of course I would love to,” she responds.

Then she promptly dissolves into a pile of sand. Startled, Liam steps back. After shaking that off, literally he exits the room. After they all exit the rooms and complete the tasks, they claim the glowing golden scroll.

Jason and Liam get trust, Harper and Gwen get friendship, and they all go on to the final test. Self confidence. They all have to face something that seems impossible but if they have self confidence, it is easy and they pass. When they made it out they got what they needed, a magical scroll to protect everyone in their realm. After a big feast and party to celebrate their success, they say goodbye. Liam and Harper get married and start their own legacy for all to know, Gwen joins the dragon rider clan, and Jason goes back to his part of the realm to finish his family's legacy and take over.

You try to be a victim, 

You victimize yourself, 

But you’re just a criminal like everybody else, 

Your words aren’t kind, 

You say anything on your mind, 

But the worst thing of all you blame it all on me, 

You turn all my friends completely against me, 

I feel so weak, 

There’s one thing I can’t tell, 

Am I your greatest victim, 

Or have you used everybody else? 

“Hey faggot, nice crop top.” I froze - choking on my thoughts. 

On June 28th, 2023, I was confronted by my greatest adversary – silence. Today, it came from a gang of Brown’s best – college kids in a hot-boxed car. Cigarette smoke and insults drifted out of their rolled-down windows. Faggot. I felt its sting against my skin. My head went left and right, but I could not find anyone near me - no one to call out to. But even then, silence had already reached me. 

“How would you like it if I put a gun to your head and my boys beat the faggot out of you?” 

I should have responded, “How would you like my fist through your face?” I should have screamed, yelled, and pulled out my anger like a dagger. 

I didn’t. 

I froze - choking on my thoughts. 

Badum, badum, badum, was all the sound I could make. 

I put my head down, used a shoelace to tie my pants above my belly so no one could see my exposed flesh, and walked home with Toxicity by System playing in my headphones at maximum volume. Music has always empowered me to articulate my thoughts, whereas silence

has persistently challenged my expression. I have always been quiet in places where I should be loud and loud in areas where I should be quiet. 

The streets I walked through on my way home seemed foreign. As each note played in my ears, I could feel a barrier of resistance forming around me. Upset and confused about whether to resist or cry, I did both. Tears mingled with music as I realized this was not self-pity but a response to the harsh reality of the world and the numbing effect this comment had on me. The problem was that every step I took seemed like a battle I had to fight against an adversity no one else noticed - an adversity that took me sixteen years to understand and find the courage to talk about. 

As I continued walking, I pondered my silence and the silence of everyone profiled, pursued, and persecuted for who they are. I thought about all the stories left untold, the pain concealed behind masks, and the silence born from fear. I thought about all the times I held back my words in fear of ridicule, hatred, or violence. All of the times when someone told me, “Don’t worry, I'm not gay,” or my sister said, “That’s gay,” and I kept silent. 

After my tears dried, I could think more about who I was. I was a closeted bisexual boy who longed – more than anything else – to be like all the other kids at his school who walked around unbothered and unafraid of their true identity being discovered. 

The next morning, I opened my wardrobe and slipped on the shirt I had worn the day before. This seemingly ordinary piece of clothing had transformed into a powerful emblem,

bearing the weight of past hurt and the newfound self-confidence I had discovered within myself. As I stepped out into the world, I carried this symbol of defiance proudly, ready to challenge the prejudices that had held me captive to the words of others for so long. I made a silent pledge to keep shouting and screaming, not for anyone's validation but as an act of defiance against prejudice and discrimination – against silence. 

I am still on this journey of self-discovery, but for the first time, the person I am discovering is someone I am happy with and am proud to be. This experience taught me to want to talk about the things that other people don’t want to talk about. About hurt and insecurities but also about joy - the kind that comes from self-acceptance and helping others do the same. The kind that comes from breaking your silence.

Joad sat watching Abe jump over and over again. The silly little dog found this activity captivating as it was annoying. Abe wore a jet-black body and little gray spots along his snout, and on his tail, a splotch of white sat on the tip like a paintbrush of fur.  The dog wore a happy, careless grin. He leaped furiously at a bluebird nest high in an old tree but jumped all the same. Every time he landed, he crushed a patch of young sunflowers. Joad didn't remember those being there; he didn't plant them, or if he had, he certainly hadn't cared. Abe didn't pay them any attention, continuing his pointless game. Joad watched from his kitchen window in mild amusement while his coffee brewed. Big, great clouds dotted the bluejay sky, and the sun rose high and bright. It cast downward a special warmth, a great feeling. 

 His coffee was an angry, awful thing; he dropped it, and it shattered onto the hardwood floor in a flood of scalding brown and ceramic. It hurt him, and so he hurt it. He swept the pieces, stopped the liquid, and set about another. This time, he took care to steep and cool it so it did not hurt him, and he did not hurt it. He blew and then drank; he always had to learn from doing, and that was his issue. To learn to be steady, he had to fall first, if only falling didn't hurt so much. And learning wasn't so costly.

 Abe had moved on from the nest and instead transfixed on a special project of his: habitually digging a hole aside the white picket fence and two wonderful old orchid patches Joad had put up and planted three years earlier. No matter how many times Joad filled it in, he already dug anew, so much so that his shovel was busted and jank. It sat sunk in the backyard like a crude grave of a veteran. Its wood was cracked and splintered. Its metal was old and garish. He made a mental note to buy one later.

 Abe dug furiously, like if he dug further and deeper, he would find something, maybe something to eat, something he wanted, something he needed. Abe avoided each flower and each fencepost. He dug in between the patches with rare skill. Abe had been much smaller when Joad had set about building the fence. He could remember what it was like without the fence and the flowers; it was wild and untamed. Joad couldn't remember a time without Abe. But he remembered what the grass had looked like without the fence, and he remembered planting the flower bulbs, egg-shaped and hard. You would hardly think they were anything special at all. It had been warm then, quiet and warm. Abe kept digging. He must want to see the smells. He must want to smell the things he can smell. Overhead, Mother bluebird returned to her nest with a long worm. Her babes loved her more than ever. It was warm like only summer could be. He jangled the small adornment on the leather leash, branded “From Mary, Love Abe.” It was worn and loved. It smelled like home. It was the greatest thing Joad owned. The sun was lovely and perched. It was a good day for a walk. 

The road was empty and clear. All along it, evergreen hedges lined and shaped the quiet little neighborhood like leafy veins, giving life to pockets of family. Abe pulled as they left and did not stop pulling. Abe insisted on smelling every flower, every marking sign, and every endlessly attracting fire hydrant. Joad and Abe made a cyclical loop three times, each time stopping at the familiar favorite spots, the wonderful patch of wildflowers three houses down from home, the blues and red, and all the pretty colors. Right at the end of the loop, there is a sign pointing home that has been urinated on by all manner of animals, almost a ritual to relief. With each loop, Joad became more attuned to his surroundings, and time started to drift away, only warmth and clean air. Abe seemed to focus only on the smells of the flowers and the bushes. He didn't pick his head up like a big weight was pushing his snout downward. 

On the last stretch of the fourth loop, Joad saw the fox, and the fox saw Joad. Abe was too busy with his smells to see the sight next to him. The fox wore warped black circles on its furrowed slits of eyes. Its fur was dirty and matted, its feet worn and scruffy. It looked like a dream of a fox, not yet rendered. Joad stood and watched the fox. It didn't move or make a noise. It almost looked like a statue. Abe kept on smelling; he was attending to a particularly perfumy patch of cream-colored lilies. Joad tightened his grip on the leather lead. Slowly, he raised his hand and made a crude. Imitation of a pistol, he pointed his index and thumb at the fox. Without another word, he made a swift motion, making a popping noise with his mouth. His pointer finger rose and then fell to his side. The fox started, blinked once, then turned and brushed past a thick bush of marigolds. Joad stared at the bush and the flowers, and then he and Abe made one more lap. Joad didn't see the fox again, but somewhere, it was sulking, watching him with two focused lightless eyes. 

Abe returned triumphant back to his hole. He commenced his great project and made about as much progress as he usually did. Joad stared at the sad, downtrodden shovel planted firmly in the backyard grass.  It was rusted and worn, and its once fine tip ground into a mess of chipped pieces and gnarled, unsightly teeth. Abe had kept it occupied.

 He went inside and grabbed his keys from the white clay dish with a funny little scene painted on it. It was a fox and a dog, each chasing the tail of the other. The bottom read in red lettering, “We pair of beasts, I love you still.” She had always had a way with words. The kitchen smelled like coffee still. He had swept and scrubbed but it still smelt like coffee. He kicked a little dirt into the deepening hole. It didn't do much. He drove off without another thought.

 Abe jumped up and down again. Mother bluebird had returned to Abe's joy, and with each jump, Abe crushed more of the newborn sunflowers. The sun was rising high still. The kitchen smelled like coffee, and Abe did not stop jumping. It smelled good and clean like only summer could provide.

Joad was gone a long time. The sun washed low. Abe missed Joad very much. Mother Bluebird was silent and comfortable, no longer harassed. Abe dug deep and hard. His back piles raked again and again. His paws became black with brown and then brown together. Loose dirt spilled behind him, and the fence and the earth came undone. Abe felt hungry. He took deep breaths and was hungry still. The more air he ate and dirt he scrabbled, he was hungrier still. 

The sun was red when Joad got back. Red and orange. It looked like half a blood orange being swallowed by the ground. The white picket fence looked like bars on a window. Red blazes shot through the slats. Joad and the new shovel came back home. The patterned grass was interrupted by a shallow divot in the ground. It ran under the fence and out past it. There was just enough space between the ground and the fence that something could eke out from under it. A trail of muddy paws led from the escape. Abe was never one to quit. 

Joad, with shovel in hand, followed them along the trail Abe and he took. They trailed from flower to flower, from bush to signpost. He followed the path of feet, and he remembered. He remembered the bush, the fox, and the marigolds. He stopped following the path, he knew where it ended.

There was blood on the flowers. The orange was mixed with crimson-red droplets. He walked past it and down a shallow alley.  Splashes of red here and there, and it became more and more as he walked. His grip tightened on the shovel. Its markings and store labels were still on it. The air stopped still, and the wind shuttered. Beyond the alley, beyond the bush and the fence, there was Abe.

He was smiling. His teeth were bright, his gums dark red. His jowls flapped sickly at ease. Below his face, his dark fur was muddled and torn. He looked happy, happy like a skeleton smiles. He looked hungry. Joad stared further and saw the fox. Its teeth were bared, and its fur was torn and manged. It backed up protectively, like a final guard at a great palace. He smashed it over the head with the shovel once. And the shovel was not new anymore. Instinctively, he hit it as hard as he could muster, as hard as he could feel. It fell without a sound. It didn't move. It died like an animal. It did not get back up. It had hurt him. It did not know it or mean to. It couldn't, it couldnt know, how was it supposed to. But it hurt him, and so it was to die. He stared at it. It looked sad, it looked like it was already a part of the ground again. It looked like it had never lived at all.

A foot from Abe and the fox, there was a nest. Two kits sat nestled and young. Their eyes had not opened yet. All they could do was mewl into the world. They hardly knew they were alive. Abe had known, and he died for knowing. He died for being an animal. The fox had died because it knew. It died because of Joad. 

Joad stared at them for a long while. They would die out here. They would surely die. He was their murderer. He was their great doom. Before life had started, he had ended it. What was he, and what were they. Things that would never be and things that never were.

He dug two graves. He put Abe in first, taking his collar and then placing him gently inside. Abe lay there still, still and smiling. Gently, he covered his love with dirt, his great beast of love. He packed the dirt hard on the grave. He buried the fox as well. Its teeth were showing, but it did not smile. 

What was this. He looked at the graves, side by side, and next to them, the young life. The sun was gone now, and only Joad, the moon, and the stars were left. If he left, they would die. If he stayed, they would die as well. That's what things did, what beasts do. That's all they did. They lived, and then they died. For what purpose was it to love them.

He would save them, even if for the sentiment. She would have wanted it. She would have insisted on it. To her, they were not beasts. To her, they were only animals. Animals deserving of love. No less deserving than he was. He was worse, yes. Yes, he was worse. Maybe there was no other worse than he. Maybe there was no reason to try any longer. But he would do it for her. She would like that. She loved the sentiment of all of it. So he loved it as well.

He scooped the pups up with his jacket and carried them back home, completing the old cycle once more. He made them a place out of Abe's bed and some newspapers. He fed them milk and some dog food he wouldn't ever use again. They slept soundly. They hardly made a sound. He wished he cared for them, but he was the reason for their demise, and they were the reason for his. He called a shelter and made plans for the morning.

The house was quiet, quiet except for the calling of orphans. Joad sat at the kitchen counter. It still smelled like coffee. He poured a glass of whiskey into a mug. It read on its front, “Do unto others…” He did not like it, but she had made it. And it was his gift, so he enjoyed it greatly. He poured himself another glass. And then another. And still another.

Joad sat there until the sun came back, and in the morning, he drove to a shelter, and in the afternoon, he filled the hole. He packed the earth tightly.  He buried the collar with it. He went to bed that night. The house was silent. He cried from great wells. With no noise, no animal wail, no frightful feeble yelp. The fox had hurt him, hurt his memory, hurt her, and so it was to die. That was the way things were. That's the way things always had been. That was his issue. To learn, he had to lose. And he learned. He was learning always, it seemed.