“I wrote this about a situation I was once in. I’m a notorious keeper of diaries, so to write this I just looked at some of my past entries and got easy inspiration to write about how I felt about this boy and the overall situation.”
By McCall Hasquet
He’s bad news for you. He said so himself. You told him how you felt and that was all he said. He doesn’t love you, this is nothing serious. Those words constantly run through your mind. You had your way out but you didn’t take it. You didn’t want to take it. Now here you are, nothing’s changed. His bed has become more familiar than your own. His invites are always late but you always wake up and go. You know this is going to end with your broken heart. This whole scenario is a time bomb. You don’t care, you can’t resist. It’s his smart-ass personality and his subtle smile. He’s worse than a bad habit, he’s an addiction. You’re addicted to the way he treats you like shit. You love it and you don’t know why you love it. You hate that you love it and you hate that you love him. You knew you should have walked away. Now you’re in too deep. Yeah he’s bad news for you, but the thing is, you’re not looking for any good.
By Wyatt Sarrazin
The handle is cold to the touch, and I know that the air inside is cold and stiff, like the hanging meats therein. There is no sign of life, only death. The muscular flesh has been skinned of its outer furry shell; it hangs by the hooks that crudely protrude the skin. The blood has been frozen as it makes its way to the floor. The ground is cleanly paved cement, with a glossy lacquer. A few drops of blood have made it from the carcasses to the cement, but they seem stuck where they land. The metal that lines the cold box has been frosted over, but its shiny veneer is still visible. The rest of the container is empty. Empty of voice, of thought, of even memories, for this is the first of many. The secluded box has but one purpose, to store this frozen meat. Then new light comes from the opening of the large metal door. The meat is removed by the chains that hold it. I take the beef, lifting it to the tables for cutting. The meat is cut and configured into its different forms. The steaks are the funniest to cut but jerky slices are also fun to do. The meats are distributed to their new owners. The metal container has a new purpose, to feed people with the meat that it stores. It is empty now, but not for long.