Entertainment - Fiction

What is fiction? According to Merriam-Webster Dictionary it means, "something invented by the imagination." Imagination, is that it? Fiction is not only made up of imagination, but with passion. You cannot write a good story or poem just with imagination. Not only that, you can be creative with Fiction, and there are many types of them. With your imagination, try to create a world with no violence, try to imagine a heart with no love, and try to find the Heart of the Forest. I do hope you all can imagine and create in your mind what we have in this issue.

-Itch

Create A World - By: Meen Imagine a world, without violence or doom,
With fresh air to breath, where all have room.
Fewer cities, towns, buildings and people,
Where one can roam freely - all beings equal.

Picture a place with no laws to fight;
Because 'wrong' isn't known, and everything's 'right'.
Murder and stealing? Means nothing there;
Why would one kill - and why not just share?

Dream up a land - possession isn't known!
Everything belongs to everyone - no one can own.
There is food to go around - not less, not more,
No being goes unloved, hated, not cared for.

Is this world made up, so far from ours?
Does it lie past Pluto, hiding amongst the stars?
This world does exist, but not so you could find,
It exists, and only exists, deep within my mind.

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The Heart of the Forest - By: Itch
"Wake up, Jake! You'll be late for your first day of school!"

Great, the summer is over. I monotonously got up and quickly changed. Went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth and went downstairs. "Here you go!" my mom said excitedly passing a loaf of bread with some melted cheese and ham on it. "I'm not hungry," I said haggardly. "Come on, aren't you excited?" "Yah, I am so excited about going to school. I can learn and do homework!" I said sarcastically. "Well anyways, remember to be home by 5:30 to baby sit Laura, also eat your breakfast, you need the strength," my mom replied, trying to change the subject. "I told you I'm not hungry! I'll just go now." I grabbed my backpack and opened the front door. "But, your still too ear-," I slammed the door shut and walked off.

Since I had some time to kill, I decided to go around and take the long away. I turned around the corner and I heard a raspy voice. "Hey kid, can you spare some money?" a man with damp clothes with holes in them asked. I just ignored him and kept on walking. Then I noticed that this whole block was smothered with homeless people. Then, one by one, they started to get up and started to shuffle toward me. Not knowing what to do, I panicked. They were getting closer and I tried to move but my feet were planted into the ground. They seemed so close that I felt them breathing down on me. Then I heard a warm and tender voice saying, "you can do it, you have the strength and heart." I closed my eyes and ran.

I was surprised to see myself moving, but something still stumbled me. Who said those words? Where did they come from? Those words somehow gave me strength and I was able to move. Before I knew it I was standing beside my high school.

"Yo, Jason!" "Huh?" I said questionably regaining my conscience. For the whole day I was concentrating on the voice and not what the teachers were saying (even though they all say the same thing on the first day of school). The final bell rang and I was still not able to figure out who said the voice and what they were about. I walked out of the high school being pushed by the eager kids who were glad to survive the first day. Then miraculously I heard the voice again. "The rivers stream with sorrow, they wander about." The voice was singing! I also could tell where it was coming from! I eagerly ran toward the voice almost being pulverized by a passing car. Then I stopped where the voice was coming from. A forest.

I have never noticed that there was a forest at the border of the city. The voice was still singing but I couldn't tell which direction from the forest it was coming from. The voice was obviously the same voice I had heard before. They sweet and delicate voice warmed my voice. The problem was that I didn't know which way the voice was coming from the forest. It was as if the whole forest was singing. I looked at the people around me walking as if they heard nothing. Was I the only one who heard this voice? Was I going crazy?

I tried to calm down but when I did, more questions came into my head. "Why is this happening? Am I under pressure? What's happening? Am I hallucinating? Should I go get some help? Should I tell anyone?" I started to feel myself sweat. I started to slap myself a couple of times to calm down. I decided to go in the forest and see what was singing. Just then I noticed the voice had stopped singing. Just when I had the courage to go in the forest, it stopped singing. Sighing, I felt a vibration in my pocket. I picked up the phone and saw that it was my mom. I looked at the time. It was already 6:00.

Paved Heart - By: Cxkslei

Looking out this old door,
down this old street,
I only see,
arrogance, corruption and greed,
of those that lie,
simply through their teeth,
their hearts,
cold as steel,
and as rocky as the cement,
what can they compare to?

All they can compare,
is their own hearts,
only to this old,
broken paved road,
for nothing else,
and when they look,
what do they see?

Why do they,
simply not see,
what their greed,
has done to them,
for they are no better,
then this old cold street.

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