Amanda Valentino
I cannot thank you enough for your tireless efforts, your endless creativity, your caring souls. With everything that you have given me, I’d like to leave you with something also. My travels (more accurately described as my fleeing) has forced me to shed nearly all of my worldly possessions. I exist with only what fits in my pockets, so I cannot give you something concrete. I can, however, give you knowledge. I can share with you stories, poems, songs, art; as you have been sharing with each other. This, my friends, is what keeps the good fight going.
If you’ll let me, I will leave you with a few stories from my point of views: of how I met my guides. They have had the chance to tell you how they came to met me, but my story is a little different. I have written them letters, but they are also for you.
Callie,
I was handed to you as a troubled math student in need of a tutor, as you remember. I’m sure you know now: this was no accident. Nor was it the first time I had noticed and observed you. I knew that there were others like me in Orion, that much I knew. I didn’t realize it would be so easy to pick you guys out of a crowd…or so fun.
It was my first day at Endeavor and I might as well have been a ghost (well, a ghost it a fabulous platinum wig). It was a difficult school to be new; everyone seemed to have their own pre-set groups, especially you, Callie (regret nothing, my little bear, everything happens for a reason).
It isn’t right to say “the first time I saw you….” So: the first time I felt you, Callie, you were walking down the hall with your gaggle of I-Girls. I had my back to you all, digging through my locker (I had brought too many wigs, what’s a girl to do?) and as you past I felt the floor move. Literally. Move. As you passed, it was as if the linoleum trembled with your steps.
I snapped my neck around and watched you walk into your English class. Even the doorframe seemed to warp to make room for you.
Hal,
It was also on the first day of school that I noticed you. We were sitting in homeroom, you had scurried in sleepily and slipped into the desk in front of mine. It’s hard to explain the feeling that I got when you sat down. It wasn’t unlike dragging your feet through carpet to get a jolt of static electricity on a doorknob. It was like that tiny shock, but constant and piercing.
Your had your head down, barely noticing the other students squeezing through the isles of desks with their bags and books and one with a science project that might have been a brain in a jar. You were sketching something lazily, a tree with gnarled branches and knotted roots.
There was something about the way you moved, Hal, almost as if your body were out of your control. I was watching you carefully when all of a sudden you dropped your pencil and snapped your head to the window. One millisecond later, a bird (poor thing) flew directly into the window. Right where you were looking. The rest of the class responded to the noise, jumping at the awful bang, one girl even let out a little scream. But you, Hal, you knew it was going to happen. You drew birds for days after that.
Nia,
You have been drawn to old things even before I introduced you to Play It Again Sam’s. What you may not know is that they are also drawn to you.
When I found you in the library, you were surrounded by first editions. Old and dusty and full of stories. You were sitting with a stack literature when I walked into the backroom. Meeting you felt different. With Callie and Hal, I felt energy rushing from them. But you, energy rushed to you. It was as if everything, every object that had a history to it, was reaching out to you. It felt like wading through a stream full of trout. I could feel stories and images whoosh past me to get to you. Most of all, I could feel Plath’s Ariel nearly banging against it’s glass case to get to you.
It was strange to see you so calm and reflective as the whole room shook with chaos and charge because of your presence. It was also strange to see such a beautiful spirit hidden away in drab clothes, tucked away into corners, overlooked. Not overlooked by others, overlooked by yourself. The world bends to you, Nia. Never forget that.
Zoe,
You are secretive. I won’t reveal too much about you. I just leave you with this advice: only use your ability to disappear when you need it. You are too valuable to the world to stay hidden. There is a difference between blending in and running away. Stand your ground.
And to you all,
Thank you for having faith in me, for helping me. The most important thing to remember is your own story. It is sacred. It is art.
Come together, right now, over me.
A.V.
AllieK
ZoeElise
queenchuki
EllaMarie
Zylaar
Jess☮❥