Elizabeth Hernandez
Poetry
Pallbearers
Trains move stories,
tracks hum beginnings,
never swerving into the lightning grasps of slumber.
Trains leave sad ghosts
weeping on dirty platforms,
waiting for embraces.
Trains—their horns sounding golden organs,
carts filled with treasures,
making bankers squint at blinding radiance.
Trains—their horns a knell,
engines heave smoke,
their inky black filling the lungs of the departed.
Regal Hues
I lay on my bed, studying the grooves of my pop-corn ceiling,
remembering the hues from last night:
Cotton candy - As you said goodnight,
whispering secrets of the game on your way out, your mood turning
Navy blue - As more joined the movement,
Bringing light to their own activities until it was purely
Midnight black accented with a shimmer of gold - Salt filled the air, elbows hit chests, breathing was heavy. Then he arrived, his skin
Ivory dashed with hazelnut - He.
He was kind. quick to join, Making me smile until my cheeks turned
Flushed rose - The night quieted down now, as we sat far to close on the fence,
Talking of nostalgia and memories that shined like
Gold - The porch light turned on. You were set on coming back,
no matter how much I pleaded, I had to prepare for your arrival.
Now I sulk as your rays overwhelm my eyes, How you taunt the fact that you come back far too quickly and last too long. You took him away, oh pitiful dawn.
Amongst the Mums
Here in this grassy field gazing, I sit
wondering at the magnificents before my pit,
covering every inch with fluttering wonders.
Life’s easier with the bugs, the bees,
the moths, the trees, and
wandering deer.
Life is at her fullest,
with her warm honeycomb
flowers blooming.
I lie in my shallow grave,
unmarked and unnamed,
as someone who sees:
my field’s changing colors, and
smoke rising from the chimney
where I kept a morose man’s house.
My diction is stained glass,
And if my mind is a temple,
Then this ruin is a mess.
Full of moss-grown stone, secondhand smoke, and teenage worries
Pieces of me line the paper.
My blood soaks the cracks in the verse.
My head wears a barbed wire crown.
And my hands hold the bones of life.
I create such beautiful imagery
Of far of lands or magical dreams,
Of coffee stained letters and of inner peace
However, it’s as if my mouth is full of concrete.
My soul aches to share such amazing curiosities —
To be seen and revered.
Yet, because of this rancid curse,
My minds wonders will never be freed.
I lament.
I praise god so that my legacy may live forever,
Or die I’ll in the attempt,
Left to ramble like a lunatic.
Legends untold
Fiction
Daffodils
The moon whispered the day's secrets to the beetles of the night. She had no reason to keep them anymore. She sang melancholy melodies and rancid rhapsodies of betrayed betrothed. She was drowning in grief. She had lost her star long ago. But why couldn't she move on? Why did she weep for weeks? Why did she feel guilty?
Maybe it had to do with her falling in love with the sea. Was she allowed to move on? In the absence of her love, only the sea provided her comfort. They grew close, but the moon refused to allow herself to continue it. Every time she tried, her chest felt hollow.
One night the clouds were the ones weeping as the moon sat on them. She was deep in thought. ‘Why? Why? Why!?’ when she noticed the sea sitting below. The sea saw her. They flashed their attractive smiles. The moon couldn’t help but melt like ice. The sea was dressed beautifully blue.
“Moon, why do you weep often?” The sea asked.
“My love has gone.” The moon replied.
“But he faded months ago.” They continue, “is it grief you still lie in?”
“Perhaps.” the moon took a deep breath. “I think it's more or less I feel homesick for a time where I was allowed to feel love.”
“Oh, Moon. He might be gone, but allowing yourself to love, or find love, doesn't mean you're erasing the past.”
The moon thought. She couldn’t feel this way forever, right? Trying couldn't hurt. So the moon left her weeping clouds and joined the sea below. As the sea rejoiced to see the moon, they spent as much time as possible, trying to comfort her, until she had to leave. The moon left feeling assured. She knew that no matter the type of day or night, the sea would always be there to guide her back to fullness.
Bonfire
Crackling is heard as smoke billows from a house set ablaze. Embers act as make-shift stars in the night sky as the real ones are covered by smog. Nearby sit two young girls.
“Do you think we went overboard?” the taller of the two asks.
“Why do you ask?” the other replies.
The taller one stays quiet for a moment, “well, I don't think it was our place to act.”
“It's a little late for that.”
The lanky girl sighs, “I know, but Sam’s the one it happened to, not us.”
“And Sam ended up spending days in the hospital. We needed to take action because she couldn’t.”
“He would have gotten his karma!”
“That's not enough!” the shorter girl slaps her hands together, trying to get across her point, “We had to make sure he felt as much pain as he put Sam through.”
The taller girl lets out a lengthy sigh. For a moment they sit silently thinking.
“Let's just agree that we did this for Sam,” she finally says.
The smaller girl nods, “For Sam.”
The two resumed watching the house burn.
After some time, “Even after everything, I heard she's keeping the baby.” The taller one says.
“That sounds about right for Sammy,” sighs the smaller one. “Even if it's over for her, she'll damn well ensure her child gets to live the life they deserve."
For a moment the taller one takes in what Sam’s life might be like now. The fire roars in the background.
“Want to help me with his car?” the small girl asks as she gets up and picks up a spray can.
“I guess you can call us karma then,” The other girl says as she picks up a nearby bat and swings it over her shoulder.
The Second Most Dangerous Game
Louise
It was the 3rd Thursday of this month and like always I had just arrived at Katrina's house. My grandson dropped me off. I was halfway up those blasted porch stairs when the front door to this beautiful one-story suburban home opened up. I called out.
“Katrina? Is that you?” My voice carried out. After a moment of silence, I picked up my cane and made my way into the home. God, the inside of this house always gave me the creeps. The walls are a muddled green and there are various animal heads hung on the wall. I was already a bit on edge so I carefully made my way through the living room. The floorboards creaked as I entered the kitchen. I was so taken aback by this horrid sight, that I grabbed my chest and lifted my cane to defend myself.
Stove
It was the 3rd Thursday of that month and as usual, Katrina had cleaned her house and took pride in her decoration skills. She was determined to do whatever it took to gain an edge over her opponent. So when she saw Austin drop off a chocolate-colored babushka with a green shaw and her black hair in a bun, she knew it was Louise . A devious plan formed in her head. Katrina rushed to the kitchen. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a bag. She mercilessly chucked the contents into a pan on the stove, turning the heat all the way up. This will put Katrina on top for sure!
Louise
I stood in horror in the doorway, my cane risied in the air. I was faced with one of my greatest fears. I saw an older woman with long gray hair that used to be blond, her convex nose hovering over a pan and her height was much taller than myself, standing over the stove. She reminded me of an old witch from fairy tales stringing a cauldron, she just wasn't green. It was Katrina cooking food and she was burning it!!
Katrina looked around frantically, I could tell she was starting to panic. Then a small fire formed over the food. Katrina was completely lost, her fire alarm now blaring. I wobbled over and grabbed a bag of nearby flour. I poured the entire bag onto the flame. For a second all was calm. I slowly turned to look Katrina in her eyes.
“What. Was. That.” I said with a forced smile. Katrina mumbled something under her breath.
“Speak up dear, you know my ears aren’t what they used to be.”
“I said, I was trying to reheat leftover turkey”, I blinked back at her in confusion.
“Why?”
“So that you would feel sleepy after you ate it and I’d have an advantage over you during our chess game!” Katrina let the words spew out of her mouth. I slowly made my way over to the chess table on the other side of the room and sat down.
“If that's how you want to play Katrina, then let’s play.”
Regret
Katrina took a second to reassess her life choices. Mentally noting that she already had a will set in place so she didn't need to worry about that after Louise e absolutely destroys her in this game.
She took the seat opposite Louise e and moved one of her pawns first. After a couple of moves, Katrina had lost one of her rooks, was playing bishop-heavy, and had opened up her queen. In all honesty, she’d forgotten how to play chess strategically entirely. Only knowing her objective of killing the other king while keeping her own alive. She was acting very calm despite the circumstances.
Louise
What. is. She. doing!? I'm terrified of the kind of plays she has presented here. Her movements have been so specifically coordinated that I didn’t even think of those plays as being smart until they were! When did she get so good at chess?
We make eye contact and I force a smile again. God, I’m sweating bullets. What could she be plotting next!?
Winter
Katrina notices Louise e sweating an uncomfortable amount and thinks to herself about how she should really get the air conditioning fixed. Then it’s her turn and all Katrina can think about now is how she really wants to play in the snow. Ahhh the snow. It reminds her of her childhood. Oh, wait! It’s her turn. She had completely forgotten. Katrina moves her queen all the way forward onto the nearest white space, killing Luiose’s knight . White just like the snow. Katrina starts to space out again.
Louise
AGH! Brilliant! How’d she known that I was going to use the knight to evade the paws and trap her king?… I am screwed.
Brain Blast
Katrina sat staring at the board but no statistical thought entered her head. She had lost hope of winning after almost burning her house down in order to gain a lead. However, through her thoughts of cold days and giant snowflakes she noticed something, Louise set free her queen. Louise usually avoided using that piece until the end of the game. She liked to call it her ‘game-winning strategy’ and to be fair it was pretty scary when your opponent pulls out their queen and you only have three pieces left, including your king.
Wait a second. Katrina started connecting the dots. Louise was pulling out all the stops, was Katrina close to winning?
She genuinely did not know and randomly picked a piece and moved it.
Louise
I had already plotted my next move, so as Katrina moved her bishop my hand was already hovering over my queen. Then I realized what she had done. She boxed my king in and no matter where I moved it I would be put into check. I was incapable of killing any of the pieces keeping me trapped. This bloody war was finally over. Katrina had won.
Celebration Time
Katrina watched as Louise made no moves, her head hanging low. Suddenly Louise slammed her hands on the chess table, shaking the board a bit. Katrina flinched at the unexpected action. Then she watched as Louise cracked a smile as wide and white as the tundra.
“You did it kat, you won!” Katrina was shocked and quickly examined the board… She won. For a moment the two fell quiet. Then Katrina got up and flipped the board, laughing. Louise laughed too as they cheered, whooped, and clapped for this miracle.
They created so much noise that when Austin arrived to check on the two, he could hear them all the way on the porch. He quickly ran in to see what was wrong. He was greeted with the sight of a mountain of floor atop the stove, chess pieces scattered across the hardwood floor and Katrina and Louise shot gunning iced teas.
Louise
Caught up in celebrating Katrina’s win, I almost didn’t hear my grandson gasp and ask,
“What the heck happened here!?” Once I finished chugging a nice cold iced tea, I set down the can and looked at him with fondness.
“Katrina won the chess game.” He looked lost, like that had only made him more confused. He eyed the flour mound.
“I almost burned down my house,” Katrina explained. Austin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“How does it always end up with you two completely fine but somehow your surrounding becomes casually destroyed!?” Katrina and I looked at each other then back at him and shrugged.
Astete
I smile brightly as Oliva pushes my arm playfully. We are sat in her bedroom and I just spilled my deepest secret. She didn’t laugh or run like I was afraid she would. Instead she responded with a witty remark that healed my self-broken heart. This went so much better than I imagined. I feel safe with her here. Her laugh fills me with a comfort only to be described as chicken noodle soup. She fills my soul like homemade chicken noodle soup. Warm and yellow. She understands me with just a look in my eyes. At this point it’s like we speak our own language that no one else understands. She’s simply the best. I couldn’t be happier with my choice in a friend.
***
We are sitting under an autumn tree, its leaves red and orange. My eyes are closed shut and my hands are wandering over the warm boy in front of me. I’ve wanted and waited for this moment for so long. Now my lips are finally occupied. I can barely control the rashness of it all. Our teeth smash together and we take a second to reposition ourselves, catching a much needed breath of fresh air. That’s when I opened my eyes and looked below me to see this beautiful boy that I’ve only ever dreamt about, with his lips swollen and hair messy, and I smiled. I smiled knowing that it’s because of me. Quickly it became far too hot to do any good, but I’d worry about that later. At this moment, I just needed more.
***
There she was, crying and silently screaming until she felt sick. Sat on her bedroom floor all because of something that was so stupid but she couldn’t control. She didn’t want to move and neither did her family, she knew that, but right now she was livid. At the world, at the fairness of it all, and mostly at how she saw it coming and yet she wasn’t ready to let go.
Her mother found her there. A pile on the floor. And all the mom could do was cradle her baby once more. The mom wanted to cry as well, cry at the injustice of it all, but there was time for that when she was dead. So as the mother shushed her child and rubbed her back softly, the child’s anger and pain momentarily faded. It was like she was young again and had just scraped her knee. It was the comfort of being in her moms arms that slowly brought her back to reality. She sighed a wet breath and leaned into the touch of the person who had given her everything.
***
Mary. The name that clouded my thoughts. Mary. She was the one. Mary. God we were married. She still loves me, I know it. She’s just afraid to admit it. I’ll make her see it though. I’ll make them all see just how much she needs me, just how much I want her. Mary, oh, you look so beautiful even from the view of your bushes.And I know everything about you. I know you better than you know yourself. I know how much your water bill was this month, Mary. And I know how you're looking for a new apartment in Susquehanna. Oh Mary, Playing hard to get like always. It’s starting to get old. One day this silly little chase will end. You’ll be mine again soon, Mary.
***
I stared into the mirror and I smiled ear to ear. I put my hand over my heart. I was warm and cozy, but most importantly I was alive. I was breathing and I was happy. Happy to be here. Happy with myself.
***
Max trudged through the door of his apartment and threw his work coat and shoes into a random corner. He was exhausted and overwhelmed with the day he just had. He was forced to stay after work fixing the mess that was the computer system, all thanks to some poor kid’s first day on the job. He was annoyed and tired, so he heaved his loathsome body onto the couch and closed his eyes. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable the couch was, he just needed to sleep. That’s when he smelled coffee. He slowly rose from the couch and sluggishly made his way into the kitchen. There on the counter next to the microwave was a mug of coffee. It was lukewarm at this point, but he didn’t care. He was more invested with the note that came with it. It was from his wife, telling him how she made him this mug of coffee and how she would be in their bedroom by the time he got home. The part that touched his heart the most was the final sentence.
“If you need someone to talk to, wake me up!! That’s why I’m here. It’s to be with and there and here for you. <3”
For the first time that day, he smiled.
***
God, I appreciate this world and the people in it. I admire the mossy forests and trickling creeks. I muse over the way children play and use their imagination to turn the impossible into reality. At the end of the day we’re all humans. God, there’s so much wrong with the world but focusing on it isn’t going to do me any good. So why not take a look around and find all there is that makes me smile. Like family reunions or getting to see friends I haven’t seen in a while. How about when someone who looks really scary turns out to be sweet, or how about when you see someone helping the elderly. There’s so much hidden good in this world and to all the people who do even one small act of kindness, from one stranger to another, thank you.
***
Our world is our true mother for if we have nothing at all, we still have her. Her waterfall hair accented with magnificent multicolored coral reefs, that are living creatures themselves, housing sunset seahorses and bubble gum starfish. To her skin of all colors; her dusty knees with scabs that hold ruby treasure, to her lush green dark and wild, full of vines and temples of her children long gone. To her multicolored fields of yellows, reds, purples, and more, fields of flowers that bees dance in and deers smell. To tall white peaks that allow us to gaze into the cosmos above enabling the endlessness of our dreams. To her blemishes of erupting volcanoes leaking red puss. She has been there since the very beginning of it all and we’ve been with her, at her ugliest and prettiest. The very meteors that pass by our mother, wish that she was the plant they crashed on. The universe is jealous of our mother for there is not another out there that is like her. So, who are any of us to destroy her? She’s sick and all we’re doing is prodding at her and fighting with each other. She has given us everything she had and what have we given to her in return? When’s the last time you’ve thanked our mother?
Creative non-fiction
A Matter of Time
Dear Lucus,
It’s been about a week since you moved out now. Your mother was just here. She speaks highly of your report card (straight A’s as usual).
I have been working on my senior project, which has led me to think about what I want to be. Do you still want to become a paleontologist? I remember when we were younger: how you had dreams to find dinosaur bones and to travel the world. I remember a lot from back then, from when we were as thick as thieves. I remember our games, our stories, and the secrets we invented just to share with our parents. I remember your kindness in the way you never let anyone feel left out, and I remember your smile.
It's been quite a while since I've seen that, or you, as a matter of fact. Your mother tells us that you're busy setting up your room. You really should stop by sometime though; Adonis misses you. He misses the way you used to pick him up and twirl him in the sky and he misses the way you’d play your silly games with him. He cries and shrieks every time your sister arrives. He cries out for his Lu Lu.
I know you're busy and probably excited about a change in scenery, but don't forget to come and visit the people who gave you a home for three years.
With love-
your cousin,
Lizzy
Dear Lucus,
It's been about two weeks since you moved and you haven't been down to the house once. Where are you? Why haven’t you been around? I see you in the halls at school and yet you refused to acknowledge my greetings? People are starting to worry about you.
I heard that your friend circle continues to grow, but I don't like the kinds of people it's been growing with. They're not nice to you, Lu. I've heard the things they call you. Why do you just let that happen? I’ve heard them say other things as well- things I can only pray you’re not saying too.
I've heard that school has been a little rough for you and you dropped advanced math. Our grandmother seemed a little disappointed, but I think that it's a good thing to be giving yourself a break. Don't forget, next week is her birthday.
Life has been pretty good for me. I’ve started dating, my grades are up, and I'm finally at a place where I'm happy with myself and the people in my life. Remember when I had almost no friends? Well, I never got to thank you for being one of the only people to bring light into my life during that time. I barely remember it at all; however, I remember the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that I would feel eight hours a day, five days a week. I remember how coming home and playing with you was the only highlight. It’s what kept me going. So, thank you. Adonis still cries in your absence, but he’s getting better.
Can’t wait to see you soon.
With love-
your cousin,
Lizzy
Dear Lucus,
You missed our grandma’s party. You made her cry. What are you doing? I’ve never seen her cry like that, Lu. I’ve been trying to keep a silver lining: an air of niceness around this whole situation, but now, I’m done.
It's not only her heart you're breaking. Your mother told my mom how you got banned from your console because you called someone a slur. Lu, we’ve had this talk (or rather, lecture) before. You shouldn't be saying those things. Your only defense has been that you say them because “it's funny.” But it's not. It's really, really not.
Your grades have been slipping. What’s happening? Why have you stopped caring? For school, for us, your family?
I’ve gone into depth about how you’ve broken our grandma’s heart but I think you lack understanding, (I know very well that you realize you are doing this) but you don’t realize that you have also broken mine. You no longer associate with me or anyone from my household. You have gone from someone who would always play games and be there for me to someone who becomes disgusted when I update you on my life. You’ve said some terrible, horrible things to me, and I know that you remember because I see the same look in your eye anytime I’m right and you're wrong.
I used to get compared to you, you know? I used to be told “why can't you understand this, if Lu can and he’s younger, you should be able to,” or “Lu got straight A’s again and you only got B’s and C’s,” but now you're the one being compared to me. I heard your mom say, “oh, she’s such a good girl. What happened to mine?” and other sayings along those lines.
I’m disappointed that the kind child with the happy smile is now someone who makes me cry. I cry not only from you, Lu, but also for you. If you no longer want to be in our life, then go ahead. It's fine by me.
From,
Elizabeth
Dear Lucus,
It’s going to be Thanksgiving soon, so everyone was wondering if you would be there.
From,
Elizabeth
Dear Lucus,
Thanks for showing up and bringing that gift. Grandma loved it. It was good to see you smile like you used to when we were kids. When you were free. Sometimes I wonder why you changed, and what events could have triggered it. When it comes to you I have to remind myself that you are human, too, and are probably going through something. But I don't know if I’m just making excuses for you now. Why do you lack empathy?
From,
Elizabeth
Dear Lucus,
It has been quite some time since I last wrote to you but I felt compelled to, thanks to recent events.
As you know, grandma recently had her eye surgery, and her nerves got the better of her. She freaked herself out, making us freaked out as well.
I really wanted to stay mad at you- to never write you a proper letter again- because no matter how many times I’ve begged, pleaded, and cried for you to return, return home, to your former self, to a better life, you refuse to even care. You only care for yourself, and, yet, the worst part about you, the part I hate the most is how I still care for you. If you needed help I would still be there for you, and I wish I wouldn’t. I wish I didn't still want you to care about me in the same way.
Grandma wants to see you soon. I’m not sure if I want to see you ever again.
We still miss you, Lu.
From,
Liz
