My big brother is just lying there. John, how did you get yourself into this? Why did you buy that stupid sports car? That stupid little thing could fit in my bedroom, of course if you got into an accident you were going to end up like this.

“Mom, what happened?”

“Honey, he was driving home and there was a drunk driver, he was driving on the wrong side of the road, and John couldn’t get out of the way.”

The way she’s describing all of this to me sounds like it’s his fault. What is wrong with her? He couldn’t get out of the way, he wasn’t in the way. The other idiot was in his way.

He’s just lying there. He looks like he’s just sleeping. I’m listening to the ventilator breathe for him. My dad can’t even talk. I’m surprised he isn’t outside chain smoking, or chugging a vodka tonic or a Manhattan. He’s never like this. I’ve never run into a situation where my dad has nothing to say, but really what would he say?

“Is there any chance he will wake up?”

“No, his brain swelled while he was in surgery.” The careless doctor said to me.

I know what’s coming; they are going to want his organs. I saw an episode of Grey’s Anatomy like this. I won’t be able to stop them. His license says he’s an organ donor. The thought of them cutting into him and taking his insides out is making me want to vomit.

“I think you should say your goodbyes now.”

Who the hell is this doctor to tell me what he thinks right now. He is the reason John is like this. If he were a better surgeon my brother would still be alive. How is it that my mother has been a hospital administrator and vice president of this hospital for twenty-five years, and she couldn’t pull strings to get the very best surgeon they have?

“Jack, you have to say goodbye to him” my mom is whispering this to me as I’m crying, putting all my weight onto the bed.

“John, wake up! Wake up you stupid ass! Stop putting on a show for everyone. I know you can do it. Please just wake up. You don’t even have to wake up, just wiggle a finger, or a toe. Just let me know you’re still there. “

He doesn’t do anything.

Why is the monitor beeping so loud? He’s dying, why aren’t the doctors bringing the in the crash cart?

“What are you people doing? Save him!”

“We can’t save someone who is brain dead.” That stupid doctor says.

He’s gone. I punch a wall and walk out of the room, back to my car, to go for a drive.

“Why did they leave this on my answering machine?” I thought to myself out loud.

As I sat there thinking about this, it suddenly hit me that I had been promoted. I had been vying for this promotion for a while, like a long while. Finally I was moving up in the world. My life wouldn’t be a reenactment of “Office Space.” I will not lose my shit over a stapler.

“Oh my God a promotion! I finally did it! I DID IT!”

My emotions were changing faster than the speed of light. What was my wife going to think of this move? Of course she would be happy I was being promoted, and receiving a nice fat raise, but Alaska.

I said it again out loud, “Alaska.”

I always had liked the novel, Into the Wild. But a holiday to the Stampede Trail wouldn’t be enough to sway my wife. Oh god, Sarah Palin lives in Alaska. What do you even do in Alaska? Does Sarah Palin host the thirty people that live in the state and have Russia viewing parties?

“No, No. This is great news. I was being promoted.”

Alaska can’t be that bad. Plenty of people live there. It’s the largest state in the United States. Or is Texas the largest state in the United States? Either way I was going to be Senior Vice President of Hillman’s Ice Picks LLC. I wonder if those studies about people living in Alaska being angrier are true. I heard that January, or something winter month, is dark for the entire month, thirty days of darkness, and that people end up being angrier from that. I did have a friend that grew up in Alaska, and he punch a lot of holes in a lot of walls. I hope my wife doesn’t start punching holes in walls.

“It won’t be bad. I’ll learn to hunt! I’m sure there is somewhere to golf. Will all the extra money we can join a country club.”

Do they even have country clubs in Alaska? I don’t care my wife doesn’t even work, so she really doesn’t get a say in any of this. When we move to Alaska, she will just have to learn how to prepare caribou and brush up on the culture of Eskimos. That can’t be politically correct. But with all the extra money I’ll be making we can fly down every now and then. Maybe we can even keep out house now and stay here when we visit.

“Honey! I have some exciting news to tell you!”

“You got the job?” My wife exclaimed.

“I did and we are moving to Alaska!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Have an open mind! It’ll be great. We can eat caribou that I killed, we will probably meet Sarah Palin, and we can see the aurora borealis!

“I will kill myself if I have to meet Sarah Palin and look at Russia with her, I hate game meat, and people from Alaska are always angry people.”

“So you want me to turn down this promotion and this fat raise because you don’t want to move to Alaska?”

“Good, glad you understand.”

“I don’t know. I guess it could be a while.” Jack replied.

“Well they better hurry up. I have to get to track practice by 4 o’clock and it’s already 3:30.”

“Yeah, well my day isn’t as important as yours is, but I would really like the get out of here.”

“So you don’t think that track practice is important?” Andrew retorted, feeling annoyed.

“I just said that your day is more important than mine. All I have to do is get a couple assignments done.”

“Well I have homework too. I’m a senior, you’re a junior there’s a big difference. I mean you probably do have work, but I have track practice, and I have to work on my thesis.”

“What’s your thesis on? Wait let me guess, it’s analyzing the relationship between damaged hair and hair spray!” Jack said smugly.

“No you asshole.”

“Okay, okay, please tell me about your thesis.” Jack replied, still smily from his previous comment.

“No I don’t want to now. You’re just going to make fun of it and say that your work is more important.” said Andrew turning his nose into the air.

“Dude I really don’t know what your issue with me is, but you need to get over it.”

“My issue with you is that you were talking shit about me.” said Andrew, his voice echoing slightly against the metal cage.

“Um when did I talk shit about you?” Asked Jack.

“You’re freshman year! You said that I was pathetic and that I needed to get real friends.” said Andrew, now sounding slightly hurt.

“Okay, well I’m very sorry for saying that, um four years ago, but I feel like you really need to get over that.” replied Jack, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to talk to you, or be friends with you, or associate myself with you.”

“Well that’s your choice. I guess I’ll survive, although it will be much harder now that I know you don’t want to associate yourself with me.” Said Jack, laughing slightly because he knew this would upset Andrew even more.

“Why is this taking so long?!” said Andrew, some two hours later.

“I don’t know, why don’t you phone the front desk for the thirtieth time.”

“At least I’m actually doing something about this. I don’t see you helping at all!”

“Well what would you like me to do? Do you want me to start calling the front desk and annoying them? I’m sure that will get the repair men to work faster.” Said Jack, now getting angry with Andrew’s hysterics.

“God you are such an asshole. Whenever I talk to you, you are always making sarcastic comments, treating everyone around you like shit.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that. Maybe you should stop being so fucking sensitive.” Said Jack, whose temper was rising steadily.

“You know, you and I should actually try and be at least cordial towards each other. We hang out with the same group of people. We see each other almost every weekend. There really isn’t any reason why we shouldn’t be friends.” Jack said, after a long pause between them.

“I have no interest in trying to be your friend. That would only detract from myself.” Andrew said, crossing his arms like a three year old.

“Alright whatever then.”

“Oh that God the elevator is working! I can finally get out of here!” Andrew yelled

“For real. I have spent enough time with you.” Jack said, rolling his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in the past two and a half hours.

This is the stupidest fucking idea she has ever had, and she has had a lot of stupid ideas. Oh let’s plan a fucking party in two god damn hours! I swear sometimes she is mentally disabled. By far the stupidest idea she had tonight was to put the keg in the backyard. WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND PUTS A KEG IN THE BACKYARD?! I’m not trying to get busted by the cops tonight. Everyone agreed with me that this was a stupid idea. I mean whatever it was nice that she planned a surprise birthday party for her boyfriend, but he knew literally thirty people that were here last night. I love the fact that she said this is just for Conor’s closest friends… I didn’t realize Conor was close friends with over 100 people. Also I didn’t realize Conor was close friends with the entire lacrosse team. I didn’t mind that they came though I like them. Sarah and I ended up doing everything to get this party set up. We went out bought a cake for him, had to deal with the stupid rugby team coming over, and we had to watch the door and kick people out when too many people came over. One of my other favorite moments from last night was when she came up to me and said, “Dude I’ve been doing a lot, I’ve been kicking people out and being a bitch.” Oh she must have been doing a lot, it takes a lot of energy to blackout and be a bitch and kick everyone out the house. She can’t take a fucking hint, when she asked me if I was ok, I said, “yeah I guess whatever this is stupid.” Her impaired brain thought I was actually happy about the party and she left to keep drinking. I didn’t even want to drink that night. Like seriously we went so hard the night before how can you be blacking out again right now? Can you say alcoholic? It’s not like I don’t like to drink, I just don’t like drinking the night after I black out. GOD SHE IS FUCKING STUPID. I knew I was going to end up cleaning all this shit up. She came in to my room and woke me up, talking about how she cleaned up the house, all proud of herself, she thinks she deserves a fucking gold star. Maybe I’ll just buy a star stamp and every time she throws something away I’ll give her a stamp on her forehead so everyone knows she did something. The house is still so fucking gross. The basement smells like olives. AWESOME. Oh it gets even better, there is a keg shell in our bushes. When the hell are you going to take care of that? Maybe you should get off your ass and stop watching Grey’s Anatomy and go clean some more. I’m so happy I just left last night. If I hadn’t left there was a good chance I was going to strangle the girl.

Jack Charlton
Section 3

I used to like airplanes.
The cabin was steamy with overcrowded bodies.
It was hard to sleep I tried putting my head against the window,
but it kept shaking my jaw.
The twenty-hour flight before this made me impatient
A shaky slumber overcame my tired body.
There were no dreams, only interrupted naps.
The plain lurched, no one was concerned
except me. Randomly I’m transported
to a rollercoaster, and the plain is dropping.
Finally everyone else realizes something is not right.
It feels like the altitude dropped from 35,000 feet to
5 feet. I managed to make some sort of noise.
The noise was muffled like I had no air in me to yell.
There were definitely yells, mine, the girl next to me, everyone’s
The girl’s hand flew to my upper arm, it would have cut the circulation off
if I had any blood running through my body.
Then the plain leveled out and was fine.

I land. She greets me, embracing
me with the warmth of a lion.
It feels different. We are morphing
into two estranged people. We get in her Scion
she is still a crappy driver.  She acts like we are racing.

On the wrong side of the road
she swerves and dodges cars
that are far too close. Her load
is precious. I feel like I’m on Mars.
This is bizarre. I hope the next road is closed.
Jack Charlton
Section 3

I want to be good, to spread everything that’s good.
The only ideas I have are to better the world.
This sick world needs a revolution, even if I won’t lead it.
Who is the CIA to say what the world needs?

America has a different view than me, who is to say which one is right.
This mission was to aide Bolivia, not to be captured.
I know they are going to kill me. I’m not scared.
Why should I be scared?

No matter the tourture they inflict on me,
the way I look,
the way I feel,
I will not give in. I can’t.

I will follow what I teach.
I must stay strong.
I won’t give in.
I won’t…

The car doesn’t show who she is.
This car shows what she longs to be.
She longs to be one of those girls,
girls parading around without a care.

She thinks it looks vintage, bohemian.
Who would know she is part of the middle-class?
When she boards this car she thinks,
will the know I’m a fake?

She thinks, why am I not the rich and famous?
I’m more suited for it than anyone else at the school.
I’ll hide behind my big sunglasses and my big purse.
No one will know… they can’t.

Jack Charlton, Section 3