A Slice of Life by John Carroll

Tino’s and Tyquan

I get off the old, orange trolley and quickly glance at my cell phone for the time. Its only 4:07 so I can take my time and stop by Tino’s for a drink. I pass a boarded up yellow building. A small concrete lot lies next to it and a Boston Police car is parked there, using the building as a hiding spot. I hustle across the intersection and open the door to Tino’s Pizza. Tino, a short plump, Greek man with a gray moustache sits on a counter behind the cash register. His wife stands up as I walk in. I turn to the left to choose a Thatcher Farm chocolate milk bottle and I place it on the red counter. Tino is in a bad mood so he gets up without saying hello, wipes his hands on his apron, and begins to put a large circle of dough on a silver pan. “One twenty-five” his wife says without emotion, but with a heavy Greek accent. I hand over the money and thank them before heading out the door. I walk only about twenty yards before I turn up Morton Rd. The street is steep and is normally a pain to walk up with a backpack, but it’s Friday so I don’t mind. I pass a gray van on the street and then walk about fifty yards before turning down West Side Rd. I look straight at the red door of my house and walk towards it. A small black boy is seated on the dirty white steps. He spots me and leaps up from his place. His blue Red Sox hat nearly falls off his head. “Hey John! You want to play basketball?” he yells cheerfully. “Hold n Tyquan. Let me put my bag down.” I say smiling. I walk up the steps before opening the first door and look back at Tyquan. Tyquan bounces the ball as high as he can then retrieves it before heaving a shot from his left shoulder. The sky is gray and he ignores the tiny raindrops. “Tyquan, I think it’s gonna rain.” I say. “Well, is Aidan home? Can I play the Wii? Can I have some orange juice?” he asks quickly. I think about what to say as I open up the next door and toss my bag to the side. My dog sits up straight, stares at me, and reveals his white chest and paws. I pet him briefly and scratch behind his golden-brown ears. “JOHN?” Tyquan is now in the house only three feet behind me.”Yea I’m right here. Give me a minute to change. I’ll get you orange juice if you wait here and pet Clifford.” I say, hoping that Tyquan will go for it and not ask anything else, but knowing him I am sure that that’s unlikely. “-but, but, can I play the Wii with Aida-“ I cut Tyquan off. “Ty, sit down and pet the dog.” The bright smile of the eight year old is dimmed and I have to feel a little bad. “If you wait here I’ll get Aidan to play with you.” I promise. “Ok , but, but, remember my-my orange juice!” he says excitedly. I know that my brother, Aidan, isn’t home so I call my mom as I walk up the stairs to my room. “Hi, can you have Aidan call Ty when you get home?” I whisper, making sure Tyquan doesn’t hear. I then wash up quickly before putting on a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Tyquan’s groan breaks the silence so; I quickly slip on a pair of tan boots and throw on my sweatshirt. I turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs and pour a glass of Tropicana for Ty. “Aidan will be home in a lil’ bit.” “Ok but-“ “No, I gotta go…right now”. “OK.” Tyquan skips out the door and runs across the street. I watch him and think to myself. I will never forget that kid Tyquan Davis.

A Slice of Life by Michael O'Donnell

Spoon Suspects

Slice of Lax

As I walk out of W105 at 2:45 I grab my spoon and am ready to put my shorts on. I go into the bathroom to put on my shorts and star a conversation with someone in the stall next to me. After I’m done putting my clothes on, I walk out and see the Nike Dunks and immediately think, Nino. I walk down the stairs of Walsh hall I head towards my locker to put my khakis away into my locker. I put away the clothes and Andrew asks “What happened to your stick?” I look and he points to a crack in the head of the stick. I immediately go into the office and ask Mrs. Galvin if the camera works in the main lobby of Walsh. She curiously said yes. I asked if she could play back the tapes if anybody had broken my spoon. After 15 minutes of hard work and investigation, we get our first suspect, Andrew Burke, but he put it back into the trash bin where it was before. Then we get a tip from Arrupe Crime Stoppers by Francisco. He said that He, Madison, and Jake had taken the stick outside to play with it, but Madison had broken it. Mrs. Galvin called Madison in for questioning. After hours work in the interrogation room, he finally couldn’t deal with the pressure, lie after lie he told. We got his information and the crime was solved and Madison is pleading guilty and is released on bail until he will be tried on Mon. March 15, 2010.

A Slice of Fiction by Joseph Leahy

I felt depressed as I watched my hometown fly away as I left the army recruiting station on my way to boot camp. I signed up only one month ago, but with the war raging on they are trying to get people into the war as fast as they can. I fell asleep on the bus, even though they told us not to, I would hear about that later…All the sudden I awoke with the smell of coffee directly over my face. As I came to I realized it was the breath of Sgt. Weathers. “Private!” he hollered in my ear “what do you think you’re doing!” “Umm. Nothing sir I’ve had a long day” “GET OUT! GET OFF THE DANG BUS!!” “Yes sir. Right Away sir” They told us to go for a run, no specific run, just follow the road, because it was on a loop. So I ran. And I ran and I ran and I RAN. All of us new recruits had to get to know each other, because it seemed as though we would need all the help we could get. Our run started at 4, I was the first to finish, but I didn’t finish until nearly 8. We had run for almost 4 hours. After I got my cot and set up all my belongings, I was called outside of our barrack. Some guy who was like 6’7 started talking in a very low voice. “Your run today was amazing. You set the course record. Do u Run marathons?” I said no. “Well we are very impressed, and we are inviting you to our special Program for top Recruits. Gather your things. You leave in 1 hour.” “ But don’t I get a say in it!” he looked at me and told me to get my stuff before we had a problem. Crap.

A Slice of Life by Michael Vitale

Every morning I have the same routine, get up, get dressed brush my teeth and go to school. On Monday and Tuesday however a lady from our neighborhood drives me and my brother to school along with her son. We never enjoy the trip on these days because all she does is talk. Whether it is the big news of the train incident, or who is going to be late after school because of a tryout, she never stops talking. I just have to block her out and get back to studying the chosen before the big test on Wednesday.

Then I stroll on up to the door and make my way down to the breeze-way. Sitting there I see all sorts of things going on, from kids doing homework, to others finishing up their breakfast. At seven-fifty-seven all the students’ line up at the double doors leading into Walsh, waiting for the nearest teacher to leave so they can all rush to their lockers. As I fight the crowd and make my way towards locker number eighty-five I stop to take a quick look at the eagles then start my day in home room 103.

A Slice of LIfe by Stephen DeForge

Simply Forgotten

Tonight I hadn’t realized I left my book at school until about eight o’clock. I could’ve sworn that I had taken it home with me, but I guess I didn’t. My parent were furious when they found out I didn’t have it. They gave me the whole weekend off to know that when it was finally time to read, reading will never happen. They sat me down and I knew I was in for a bumpy ride during this big lecture. As I stared at my chicken parmesan dinner, I took in the word my parents told me. Maybe I am taking this opportunity for granted. Maybe I’m letting down more people than just myself.

When the conversation was over I went upstairs and used this valuable time instead to make a new slice of life instead of my old one and look up whatever I could on the book. I found out you have to pay to learn on the internet. My father came in and asked me if I knew what they were getting at and I said I did and told him I’m going to start to go into every class with enthusiasm and the motivation I need to stay committed and work as hard as I can and achieve more then what is wanted. I quickly finish up this last sentence and then go on my BC High email and hit compose messages to find a list of names with Guiney as one of them. I click on Guiney and writ slice of life under the subject and then go downstairs, apologize for ruining dinner and eat seven Elmer fudge cookies with a bug glass of milk while watchin The Pacific.

A Slice of Life (from my past) by Ms. Guiney

The First Dance I Ever Chaperoned

One of the first moments that I admitted I truly wanted to be a teacher happened while chaperoning a middle school dance. I was fresh out of college, working as a special education assistant teacher in Marshfield. I was working to pay off my debt and start earning money toward getting my masters in speech pathology. I was not going to be a teacher, I had decided a long time ago that I wanted to do something more intense, more challenging with my life. So I took this job and figured it would be a way to make money and earn some references, little did I know that it would change my life.

The first month of the school year, I got to know my students. I was placed in charge of 25 students who would need assistance in regular education classrooms as well as pull out sessions in the resource room. There were 23 boys and 2 girls. There was Jack, who wore his hair long, so he could hide under it. There was Elliot who craved attention and got it for all the wrong reasons. There was Matt who swore like a truck driver, but was probably the most sensitive of the group. Josh, who somehow has made it to 8th grade while reading at a third grade level. And Andrew, who had a slew of problems that I had never dealt with before. At this time he was known for having kicked the last assistant in the shin and punching her in the stomach. Needless to say, I was afraid of this boy. This boy, who weighed probably 100 pounds, with floppy blonde hair and nails bitten to the quick, scared the breath out of me. It was the eyes that did me in, when he smiled it never reached his eyes, and they were always darting around the room, like he was constantly in search of something or someone. He never looked me in the eye when I spoke to him and he would keep his head low to the desk, almost covering his paper, so I couldn’t get near him or his work. Here’s the thing, though, a little piece of me was falling in love with all of these kids, even Andrew, no especially, Andrew. I think it was their isolation and the fact that no one else loved them. Other teachers in the building did nothing but complain about them, so much so that I stopped going to the teachers’ room for lunch. I signed up for extra lunch duties and got to know my kids outside of the classroom. By the end of the first month, I had made a few strides with the kids and I had faced numerous set backs. I can still remember driving home on route three and crying so hard that I couldn’t see the road. Crying because Josh failed his MCAS or because Tyler got caught with marijuana, or Andrew flipped out in math class and tried to run away. Every day there was an event, but almost every day there was a counter- event that would make me rethink my career path.

At one particular lunch duty in early October, I sat down with my boys and asked if they were going to the dance that night. Most of them laughed me off. “ We don’t do that whole school spirit crap, Guiney.” But I pushed and prodded and got a few of them interested in attending, if for but the lack of anything better to do. Once it was settled that most of them would probably go, someone asked if I was going to chaperone, and then the begging started. To be perfectly honest, I was twenty-two years old at the time and had better plans for a Friday night, but I couldn’t really say no to them.

When I showed up that night about a half hour after the dance started, since I wasn’t actually getting paid to chaperone this event, a row of my boys were on the top step of the gym bleachers. They were singing and swaying to “Don’t Stop Believing” and looked to be having a great time. For me it was the first time I had seen them do something normal and fun, to see them act like regular teenagers. It was Andrew who saw me first and he yelled, “Guiney!” He waved at me like a four year old, a big smile on his face and in his eyes. It was in that moment that I knew teaching was what I wanted to do. Having made this boy smile simply by being present in his life was something I knew I could stake my future on.

That dance, that year, that smile got me to where I am today. It was a great moment born out of something so simple. My mom has always told my brothers, sister, and me that 90% of life is just showing up, the other 10% is what you do when you get where you’re supposed to be. That night I knew that showing up was huge for my kids and for me. The other 10% became what I would do with the rest of my life because I had definitely found where I was supposed to be.

A Slice of Life by Harrison Armstrong

The date is the 19^th of March 2010. It is about 10:30 and I figured I’d write about the latest and greatest dance. To be honest, I didn’t like it much. The dance was good but the teachers that were constantly swarming us fellas got on all of our nerves. They had to be watching us for safety reasons and all, but I think would of all preferred it if they had their own sort of party – maybe in like some type closet somewhere in the high school. So I guess I would call it good… but bad.

The music was good. The ladies be fine but being and 8^th grader made it hard to be a contender at the Arrupe dances. The girls that looked the best were all 7^th graders and didn’t want anything to do with an older kid. Also, if you were caught grinding, your whole night was ruined. You couldn’t grind anymore for the night and even you had the opportunity you might go through some weird guilt trip brought on from Mr. Hamblet because we all know grinding is harmless. Having said that and speaking for all the guys except for those who got away with it - mainly all 7^th graders, it was up to you to decide what you did for the rest of the night after you got pulled aside and talked to. You could either risk it and keep doing what you’re doing or get benched from the game. At this nights dance, I had to take one for the team and sit it out. It probably didn’t help that my dad was a chaperone but “it’s whatever”. So the dance went on slowly. I raved it up like only a boss do and I tried asking girls to dance but got rejected for some reason. I ended up just going through the motions but it got boring at times. They probably rejected me because they were nervous about looking at my studdly face for a whole song but a story for a different journal page.

In conclusion, the dance was a success while still being a failure, which I think, is pretty interesting. There were pros and a lot of cons but we all had a good time despite the public school drama that is sure to happen at any dance.

A Slice of Fiction by Bailey Pourbaix

The Crash

It was a Tuesday afternoon at BC High and it almost seemed normal. Planes were flying overhead during an all calm gym class out on the turf with Ms. Hanks. We began with stretches and pushups and had then moved onto some intense games of handball when we heard a loud sound overhead. When we looked up, we could not believe our eyes. What we saw was a plane, but not just any one. It was huge and was spiraling out of the sky and headed right towards our gym class. Everyone began to scream and run in all different directions. It was chaotic but even more scary. I began at a hard sprint towards the highway and the ocean just beyond that. The plane was inches away from the ground when I leapt over the guard rail and into the waiting bay. It all seemed to be in slow motion as I felt the shock wave go over my head and the miniature earthquake in the ground. SPLASH! I hit the water and heard the sound of my bellyflop before I felt the pain of jumping fifty feet into the ocean and landing on my stomach. I was under the water for a minute but I could still hear the sirens of the fire trucks only several yards away and fifty feet above me. I surfaced to the water and gasped for air. I could barely breathe because the wind was knocked from me upon impact into the bay. I caught my breath and swam towards the shore. I was climbing out of the water when it happened again. Another plane. This time it hit the water behind me. A massive wave emerged from where the plane hit and started right for me. Before I could get myself completely on land, it slammed me face first into the rocks. As the wave receded I regained conciseness. I had to get out though, what if another wave came. I slowly struggled to my feet and got back up the rocks. The first thing I saw was a plume of black smoke on the field. The school was up in flames and debris was blowing around the windy campus. I started to cross the highway without thinking, I had a bad concussion and had almost no clue what I was doing. I huge horn sounded, I looked to my right to see the huge fire truck barreling straight for me going to fast to stop. I dove to the ground as the truck drove right over me but without running me over. Jeez, I said to myself, I have to be more careful. This time, as I got up I looked both ways then crossed. I got to the field and saw many people on the ground or being loaded into ambulances. The fire crews were working to put out the flames now and it seemed under control so I decided to leave. I set off and a hike to the footbridge and to JFK where I somehow managed to catch the 2:51. I was almost home when I realized I didn’t have my backpack. Oh well, I thought, its a good excuse not to do my homework.

A Slice of Fiction by Derek Dunlea

The year was 2064, the year that the world as we know it was completely changed. Over the past 60 or so years, problems between the United States of America and China had escalated to a dangerous level. These two countries are the worlds leading superpowers, and things between them were getting very heated. For years now it seems much like the Cold War. Countries are allying with each other, countries are stockpiling weapons, and tensions are skyrocketing. Many hoped it would be like the Cold War, at least in the end no shots were fired. Almost all of Europe is teamed up with America, along with many South American Countries. However, virtually everywhere else, with the exceptions of Japan, India, and Russia are with the Chinese. It seems like the world is split into three groups, the Americans, the Chinese, and a few scattered neutral countries (notably India and Russia). It truly seems that this will be the end to the 30 year peace that has been upon our world. It was the U.S that attacked first off of the coast of Japan. Many of the island’s inhabitants were evacuated before the main insult, all except of course the military personnel Japan was to become the united States’ stronghold off of Western Asia (much like Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crises). The Chinese were expecting this attack for months now, but they thought for sure that the U.S would attack Beijing or Hong Kong, but in this fact they were wrong. Instead the U.S strategically attacked many weapons/missile making facilities, cutting production by over half. However, this did not completely affect China’s plans, just for the fact now they could begin their staged attack, poising the water supplies of a few major American cities. This killed many civilians, and politicians alike. This was now truly war, and this may be just the war to end all wars.

"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones." Albert Einstein

A Slice of Life by Nathaniel Guevin

It was 6:30 am on a Saturday on rt. 84. The warmth in Charles' truck was a pleasant change from the cold winter air. I had already had a two-hour day, so as you can imagine, I was exhausted, and I still had a long, science filled day at University of Connecticut.

It was the day of science bowl, and the caravan of cars was driving down to Connecticut. We were following the white Cadillac Escalade, carrying Jonathon, Kevin, and John's mother, through all the tolls and off all the exits, while, at the same time following what the small black GPS told us. Charles was asleep, leaning against the window, while his father was patiently watching the road, and I was sitting in the back typing this on my iPod touch in it's blue case. Before then it was snowing, but now that fluffy, light snow had turned into wet, ugly rain. There was no sound, but the sound of the radio, the sound of the windshield wipers, and the sound of traffic. You could see Charles trying to resist being grabbed by sleep, just to get pulled under and doze off.

Suddenly we all stopped. We had missed our turn, but the GPS said otherwise. All of a sudden everyone was following us, instead of us following everyone else.
We arrived at UConn and were allowed to go to a continental breakfast. I excitedly ate three doughnuts, while TJ ate five. We walked around, talked to each other, and just waited for them to open the lecture hall, C-80. We got a lecture about what was going to happen today and the trophies.

Then the competition started. My team was made up of Mike Kelly, Jonathan, Nathaniel McCarthy, Noel Feeny, and I. We didn't think we were doing well after the first round, probably because we lost 154 to 52, but then we made a turn-around victory against the next team. We had a short intermission and then got right back to the action. We won against our next two teams, and broke for lunch.

After lunch we had an assembly. In this assembly they announced that the other BC High team was in the winners bracket, while we were in the wild card. We beat every team in the wild card up to the semi-finals. At half time we were down by 56 points. We kept trying though. We pushed as hard as we could, but didn't win. We ended up losing by 88 points. We then went on to room 204 to play for third. When we got in and saw the team we realized we had played, and beat them before. We fought valiantly, but lost.
After this we went to the dairy bar at UConn. I got the Jonathan Supreme, an ice cream with peanut-butter swirl and chocolate covered peanuts.

Charles had a hockey game, so I went home with TJ. We played on my iPod touch and watched Up. We stopped at a Men’s Warehouse, where my mom met me and I went home. Overall I had a great day!

A Slice of Fiction by John Carroll

Part One:

I stepped out of the bar clutching my right fist. It was about quarter to midnight, the wind was picking up, and the rain poured down hard on the concrete. I took a left and continued up Dorchester Ave. I didn’t walk far and passed a few food stores, the laundromat, and Four Provinces convenience store before turning left onto Richmond Street. This street wasn’t lit by big street lights like Dot Ave so it was dark and I couldn’t see more than ten yards ahead of me. I looked toward the flickering, pale red light above the door of CVS. I crossed the street and turned down onto Avondale Street. Now the street was pitch black and I was walking in the middle of the beat up back street. Avondale Street was hidden below a barrier form where the parking lot of CVS drops off. I passed a few houses before I reached my destination. It was a long, bluish-gray house with 4 units. It looked like two duplexes stuck together. The paint on the house was peeling and weathered from the rain and snow over the years. I walked up the steps to the second to last door and shook off the rain before opening the door very, very slowly. I couldn’t see anything when I opened the door. I took one step forward making the old wooden floor creek. I heard a cough followed by “So how’d it go?” The voice was from a man in his late fifties. I felt around for the chain above my head that turned on a pale light.

Part Two

A 9mm pistol sat on top of 9 stacks of money. The face of Benjamin Franklin on each stack was split in half by a rubber band. The man in front of me looked up at me and smiled out of the side of his mouth as he watched me observe the contents. A wallet sat in the corner of the bag. He removed the wallet and opened it. An ID card sat in the first pocket. I extended my hand and the man hesitated before handing the wallet over. I removed the ID and immediatiely recognized the face from the bar only a few minutes ago.

The expression he had looked like he was taking a mug shot. His face was marked with a distinct scar that stretched across his left cheek. His hair was brown and very short on the sides with a hair a bit longer on top. His eyebrows were thick and angled down towards his nose. His sideburns extended all the way down to a small goatee and connected to a thin moustache. His dark green eyes stared at me angrily. The only body part visible in the picture was his thick neck. Next to his picture read:

JAMES KELLY

538 W 44th STREET

CHICAGO, IL 60609

That picture sent chills down my spine. What had just happened quickly flashed through my head.

When I entered the small pub, Jimmy Kelly and two other men who accompanied him on both sides were seated at the bar. The two men were shorter, but both were built and looked fairly similar to the big Jimmy Kelly, but without the chubby features. They all turned towards me when I entered. Jimmy Kelly wore a dark green t-shirt and a dark gray scally cap. I walked over noting the familiar face in the corner. I nodded to him when Kelly wasn’t looking. My eyes wandered below the stool of the man sitting to the left of Kelly. There sat the black Nike duffle bag. I had found my target and I sat down. I called over for a beer and we sat in silence until a few moments after I took my first sip. “What’s the bag foh?” I asked. “Don’t worry bout it” he snapped back. I swung out with my right fist hitting him in the face. His friends were immediately all over me. I was punched in the face before the man in the corner came over and swung and hit the next man in the right cheek. He was knocked out after a second punch landed under his left jaw. I managed to reach down and grab the bag before I was kicked in the right shoulder. I came up and grabbed my beer. The brown bottle shattered on the man’s head sending him to the floor, blood dripping down his neck. Kelly and the other man were exchanging blows before Kelly knocked him out and shoved him while he fell back, sending him tumbling into a table in the corner. Now Kelly and I stood face to face. He took the first swing, but I ducked and he missed. I returned with an uppercut to the nose. He fell slowly to the floor with a booming sound. He began to get up, but a Timberland boot to his face ended his efforts.

Now, I stood staring back at his wide face. I thought for a second then realized something that made the chills down my spine come back; with or without his bag, Kelly wanted me dead. The thoughts lingered in my mind, but faded as the man in front of me began to pull himself up. He grabbed the old wooden railing that stood between him and the hallway next to him. “Jackie, you just got yoself a job.” He said smiling and now completely standing up. He wasn’t very tall, only a few inches taller than me while standing on a step. He swung the bag over his shoulder and began to walk up the stairs. I stood there motionless. He had walked up about ten steps and had only two to go before he turned around. “O yeah, and you betta be at the L Sreet Tavern, tomorrow at 5.” He said. I nodded and turned around. I opened the door just in time to see the back of a Boston Police cruiser that just whipped by.

A Slice of Life by James Holland

The weekend had been so amazing. I had buried a car in snow, almost gotten a concussion sledding, hit a staff member with freezing water balloons, and met some new friends. We were leaving on the bus to Ipswich and my stop, Hingham. I walked up these stairs. I had said good-bye to my new friends, and threw my green duffel bag and green sleeping bag into the large bottom space in the bus. The man who observed the bus and made sure we paid to go, and walked to the back of the bus with the other people. I sat by myself in a row with two girls behind me who were making up stories about being related to rappers and Miley Cyrus. Then, a girl I knew came up, and sat down in their row. Finally, a friend to help me get these girls to just be quiet.

“Hey,” I say to her.

She replies, “what, do you not believe she is related to T-Pain.”

“No,” I said.

“Well we saw him and met him backstage for her birthday” she replied with a subtle wink

I had to change the topic and saw my chance, “MUSTANG! SWAGGER WAGON!” Some words of assent, and my chance to move.

I had averted disaster in the back of the bus, and the Mustang was ahead of the navy blue bus. Now we were bored, so we broke out into song.

“Ah-like 8ft. 4 blond hair to the floor . . .” one girl started singing. Then someone belted,

“Build me up (build me up) buttercup baby . . .” that did it, we erupted into song. After we sung that song from beginning to end, the bus driver turned on the radio, and the Weird Al parody of the song American Pie, and at every refrain, we sung out “Bah, Bah Mrs. American pah, drove da Chevy to the levy but the levy was Drah. . .” one boy was pleading us to even hear the different version, but 20 plus screaming teenagers (mostly girls) is no match for one boy. We pulled into the Notre Dame parking lot, and a scary sight filled my mortified eyes, we were home.

A Slice of Life by Darvin Sainte-Luce

As I walked down the track field of school I see something that sparks some moments of my childhood memories, and that thing is the Big Soda. You might be wondering what the big soda is? It is a huge some what looking can that has many different colors on it and there are many different ones around the country. This one here has red and orange stripes. As I was child and my child imagination were describing this huge object as a giant soda can I was always on the look out two see if I would see any, if I were to go on the highway to go somewhere. I would always try to see different one any time then the ones I have seen before, but that was not up to me, it was up to the car. I had seen on here, Rhode Island and Connecticut. Every time I would see one I would wonder what would be inside of the , but since it seemed like a soda can I thought it was I big soda can with billions of gallons of soda and this was where the soda companies get their soda from. After time after time the soda shape began to fade away and it began to look like a big dome. Then one day I was coming to school and I saw the big soda next to Morrisay Boulevard, I asked my dad what was inside of that thing and he said gas. Even though that answer ended my curiosity of what was inside I still always give it the name the big soda.

A Slice of Life by Rory Keohane

English Class

Everyday I have English class. After Mrs. Hajjar says au revoir I start heading to room 105. I am walking with Melton or somebody. I will talk about what just happened in Franch class. As I get closer to Ms. Guineys room I start to pick up the smell of Febreeze. As I walk in I will see Mezini, Derek, Jay, sometimes John, and Mike in the first row. In the second I will see Shmitty, Bailey, JC, Cronin, and Topham. On the third row Joe and Steve will already be sitting close to the door so Melton and I plop down over in the corner. I will take a seat as Andrew wanders over towards the Febreeze machine. I will see Darvin either talking to Ms. Guiney or Derek or Mezini about something. Ms. Guiney will get up from her desk and go close the door. Right after she closes it someone will walk back in and the door stop will catch itself and the door will stay open. She will tell everyone to take their seat and by this she means Andrew and Darvin. As Andrew comes to sit down I will make a joke about Anne Frank. As Ms. Guiney says whoever’s presenting today I am happy to know that we get five minutes away from grammar to listen to someone’s presentation. Ms. Guiney will ask someone to turn off the lights and I will slap Andrew on the back off the head and go close the shades. By the time I get back Andrew is drawing something on my assignment book. Someone will begin their presentation. Eventually they will end and Ms. Guiney says to get out your grammar section. There is a moan but eventually everyone will be there. I look to the board and I will see Mike making a strange face. I will point it out to Melton. Later on halfway through the lesson Ms. Guiney will call on John and John who wasn’t paying attention will try to play it off. Joe will say something and then Andrew will either yell at him or go over there and hit him. In the middle of this Ms. Guiney is still telling a lesson. Eventually the lesson is over and Ms. Guiney sends us off to Social Studies with some Homework.

A Slice of Fiction by JC Brassard

Band Camp

“Come on Dad, do I really have to go?” I ask as I load my things into the car. “Yes Kevin, how many times do we have to make it clear, you’re going whether you want to or not!!” I climb into the front seat, very unwillingly, I must add. As I disgracefully embark on the journey of a lifetime (of course I didn’t know it at the time) As soon as we leave the house, I am already planning my getaway from the camp. I hadn’t been there before but I had gotten a map of the area. I went over in my head what I had planned as I was packing. “Get out of the cabin; go right onto the path towards the entertainment center; take a right at the first tree before the pool; continue through the woods, going north, and I will end up at the train station. I would hop on the train that would bring me home. Perfect” I thought to myself.

As I was driving to the camp that I would spend the entire summer at, all I could think were 2 things. “Why on earth did my parents send me to band camp?” and “This is going to be the worst summer of my entire life.” First, my parents made me learn how to play the trumpet. “Why?” you might ask? Ill tell you why, so they could send me to this stupid band camp all summer long. Of course, to top it all off, we had to drive 4 hours to get here. “What could be any worse?” I think to myself as I step out of the car. But all thoughts changed when I looked what was standing right before my eyes. Standing in front of me were the two beautiful cabin leaders that would head up my cabin. “Welcome to Foster’s Band Camp, I’m sure you are going have fun.” She said. I could only drool in response.

A Slice of Fiction by Patrick Cronin

The Final Stand

James Mackris never expected to be fighting in one of the biggest World War. He was only 13 when General Woomp came to his house inviting him to the school of battle and fire arms. James was always on the nerdy side and never participated in many athletic activities, but when General Woomp told him that he had the precision and skill of an amazing sniper. Now James in the back of a military truck going to his new school. He did not know what to expect when he arrived, but when he reached the all brown brick building he began to worry. He thought he was going to go through extreme work outs and have a man yelling in his face for the rest of life. When he arrived he saw a bunch of boys walking by him with military clothing and crew cuts. He began to regret going here, but when he walked inside he noticed it was a very clean and nice facility. The people in the inside were all wearing different outfits and looked a whole lot friendlier than the people he saw outside. After walking down a long hallway where there were classrooms teaching different types of battle tactics. General Woomp brought James into a private room with a single bed and told James, “This is your new home, I hope you like it”. After James unpacked all of his stuff and got settled he went to the door and noticed it was locked from the outside. He began to panic that he would be in here forever, but at that same moment he noticed a screen pop up in front him. A computerized face appeared and said,” Greetings,, I am your task manager, I will have all of your schedules and info ready for you in just a bit, sorry we cannot let you leave because we need to get you all organized and ready for school.” With a sense of relief James sits around waiting to get his schedule and get out of this room. Ten minutes later the task manager pops up again and gives James his schedule and a map of the school. When the screen left James hear the click of the door unlock and he walked out into the hallway. He walked into his first class which was quick scoping and how to keep steady aim. James was so scared when he first held the rifle, all of his life he was the boy who did nothing wrong, but now he is taking classes on how to kill the enemy as silent and quick as possible.
After many years James was the best sharpshooter in the school. He could hit a moving target from miles away. James is now 28 years old and he is a fully trained killing machine. The military was recruiting soldiers in the war for a war coming. James was the best soldier in the whole school and was the first to be recruited. James got recruited as Sniper commander. James always just shot targets and fake people, but now it was different, he had to kill to survive. It was him and 4 other men going into war with Iraq. These five men are the best soldiers you will ever see.

A Slice of Life by Samuel Topham

I was sitting in homework club doing my confusing hard math homework, when I saw a seventh grader named walk into the room. I knew what was going to happen at this moment. Earlier in the day this kid had taken Mike’s lacrosse stick from the lacrosse bucket in the Arrupe lobby. Mike’s stick was in the bucket after Ms. Guiney had yelled at us in the morning to put the sticks in the bucket and that she didn’t want the sticks in the room. So I never learned how this kid had broken the stick, but I could see that he had cracked the head and it couldn’t be fixed. All I could hear while trying to do my math was that he was going to have to buy Mike a new head and get him mesh to get it strung. I have to say that they were making him pay a little bit too much. But I know that the head costs at least $90. And that to get mesh to string a stick was $20. And to get it strung was $15. They had said that it costed $50 but I knew that they were just trying to get money from the kid. I didn’t say anything I just left my mouth shut. I tried to finish my math but couldn’t get done due to all the noise and distractions.

A Slice of Life by Ryan Schmitt

Airsoft Ambush

Sitting in my basement alone at eight o’clock on a Friday night, bored out of my mind I actually considered going to sleep. I was probably an hour from doing so when my friend called me.

"Dude, where are you?"

"Um….. Sitting in my basement. Why?"

"Dude, you gotta come over right away!"

With a sigh I thought to myself that I should be used to Jacen’s antics by now.

"Does your life depend on me coming over?"

"That depends will my answer affect you coming over or not?"

"No, not at all."

"Ok, then no."

"Alright you have fun then."

"Wait so you’re not coming over?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Look at your clock and tell me what time it is."

"Uh…….. It’s eight."

"Yeah. Now do you think my mom will let me out of my house at eight o’clock at night?"

"There’s a chance."

"Fine I’ll be right back."

I went upstairs expecting that my mom would say no but in some weird turn of events she said yes but told me to call her when I got to Jacen’s house.

As I was walking over I kept thinking that as soon as I got up to his door, something would happen but I only thought about it for a few seconds.

I went up to his door and started to knock. After a few minutes with no answer I was a second away from calling him when he and three other kids jumped out of the bushes with airsoft guns and began pelting me. And during the whole event the only thing I kept thinking was that I should have stayed home.

A Slice of Fiction by Andrew Melton

Patient # 2342

Why? Why is it that I must endure such agony? Why must this all happen to me? Why is it that everyday people are blessed with having a normal day, except for me? Did I do something wrong? Why is it that I cannot get these thoughts out of my head, these memories? These are the memories that deteriorate someone’s brain. These are the memories that can kill a man. All it needs is a little bit of thought, and God awful memories such as my own. As I look into the cracked, stained, and bedraggled mirror, my mind is on a playback wheel, and these memories continue to haunt me. Everything is moving so slow, I cannot even walk straight or even see because the memories are covering my eyes. It’s like there's a movie screen caped over my eyes, and these torturous flicks keep coming back and back. I thought about all of it, and how everything seemed to be going great, the world was moving 200 miles per hour but someone had suddenly jolted the hand brake backwards and now I’m not moving at all. I’m trapped inside these walls of terrifying memories, but never the less I am still breathing. But why? Why is it that I am confined to nothing but a disgusting mirror and a windowless, horribly dirty room? I am no criminal, and I am no thief. But why is it that whenever I lose my thoughts and I do not even know myself and I end up back here. I lose my identity and then my memories of those times arrive.I am haunted until it happens again and then I am given even worse memories. But yet I am still asking myself why. I do not enjoy these memory losses but yet I do not even know why I am here. Who am I? What has brought me to this horrible room? Why? I look down and there is my answer. Stamped in bold print right over where my arms are constricted together. I am Patient # 2342, and now I know why.

Slice of Life by Stephen DeForge

Forty Seconds to Seal the Deal

It was our first game in the Massachusetts State Championship and we had to play a very good Dorchester. This team consisted of players like Liam Ryan, Connor Sweeney, and Ryan Fullam. Both teams battled through the first half of the game. After that my team popped into two quick ones before the period was over. And then the show began at the end of the third.

With about four minutes left in the third. Maybe it was three minutes. I hopped out onto the ice and got back into my zone. Before I knew, I noticed Dan Wiseman had the puck on the half wall ready to break out the puck. I shot off to the center of the ice and slowly skid over to the left. Dan and I and very good friends and we think alike on the ice so once I say boards he knows to give me that indirect pass of the boards for a homerun finish. I quickly collected the puck and it was off to the races. I was one on one with the goalie and I had zip time to think about what I was going to do. I stepped in slowly and quickly took a snap shot that went five hole on the goalie and I came streak up the boards doing the Steven Stamkos Fist pump.

The puck dropped and Tommy Duggan collected the puck and I swung from the left boards to the middle. He ace me a beautiful saucer pass that went through three Dorchester forwards. I got the puck and turned and shot down the ice finding myself on a one on one with the Dorchester defenseman. I saw the other Dorchester defenseman in the side of my eye and he quickly got back in the play as well. I put the puck on my back hand and foolishly both defenseman turned their shoulders towards it and I put it through one of their legs and jumped over one of the other’s stick and quickly collected the puck before the Dorchester goalie could dive out and get it so I quickly deked to the right and went back hand roof dog on that goalie to seal the deal. The game was pretty much over as we won of a score four to nothing over Dorchester.

A Slice of Life by Xhonatan Mezini

Math in the Morning

Once I arrive to the math class I see around ten people sitting by Mr. Lynch's desk asking him how to us Pythagoras theory. The first thought that came to my mind is Asquared + Bsquared = Csquared. I get to a particular desk, and then ask Mr. Lynch if I can go to my locker, as usual he says hurry up. As I walk to my locker I think about all the things we may do in math class, and how mad Mr. Lynch will get when he sees students not doing their homework properly. As I arrive to my locker I got all my books for my first three classes, so that I do not have to go to my locker at 8:00. As I realize that today is a day 3 I recalled that I had math last period, right before gym. I said to myself that there is no better way to end the school day. As I arrive to the math class, everyone there is asking Mr. Lynch questions about their homework, but I am probably the only one who is there to help others, and just relax before the day starts.

As I being to relax and start to close my eyes, I hear two or three students coming to me for help. As I open my eyes I realize that they are from my math class and that they need help on the homework. I help them as usual trying not to give them the answer, but making them work for it, and I think this is how everyday starts for me.