The Mind’s EyeThe Mind’s EyeThe Mind’s EyeThe Mind’s EyeThe Mind’s Eye

Senior EditionSenior EditionSenior EditionSenior EditionSenior Edition

Waldwick High SchoolWaldwick High SchoolWaldwick High SchoolWaldwick High SchoolWaldwick High School

2012-20132012-20132012-20132012-20132012-2013

Board of EducationPatricia Levine, President

Dawn Monaco, Vice PresidentDaniel Marro, Sr.Claire McLaffertyDominic J. Novelli

Joseph OrlakMartha Walsh

AdministrationDr. Patricia Raupers-Superintendent of Schools

John Griffin-Business Administrator/Bd.SecretaryVictoria Wilson-Director of Special Services

Kevin Carroll-Principal, High SchoolMichael Clancy-Assistant Principal/Athletic Director

Elizabeth Getlik-Supervisor of Language Arts and World LanguagesJanet Sobkowicz-Supervisor of Social Studies, Related Arts, and ESL

Mind’s Eye StaffAdvisor: Mrs. Danielle Kish

Staff: Natalia Bastante, Sam Capener, Melissa Davies, MollyLumino, Julia Montella, Nicole Stahl

Artwork provided by Ms. Ruch’s A.P. Art StudentsPhotography provided by Mr. Opderbeck’s Photography Club

Front Cover Photo by Erica Dischino

Well-Wishes for the Seniors

To: Brian Nitsche From: Doug Palmadessa

1…2…3…Nitsche! Rawl! We balled out in basketball this year, I’m really happy you played. Goodluck at JMU.

To: Evelyn Reyes From: Angela Boddy

Have a great time in college and stay you. I will miss you and your amazing personality. Let’s makesure we chill out with the rest of the gang later on.

To: Ally Estell From: Ciara BrophyI’m going to miss you so much next year! It’s so weird to think that you’re going off to college. Iremember meeting you when I was only 5 years old and you were a fifth grader. We’ve grown so closeover the years, and you’re like the big sister I’ve never had. Good luck next year!

To: Mayumi Skorski From: Erin ScottTrack has been so much fun with you this season! It’s not going to be thesame next year without you, we’re all going to miss you. Good luck in college!

To: Patty From: Emma BackhausGood luck next year! I’m going to miss you at jumping practice. I hope you do well nextyear in track. You better come back during your breaks and help out!

To: Maggie Claus From: Caroline ClausGood luck in college! I’m sure you’ll make lots of new friends and continue getting goodgrades in all of your classes. I’m going to miss you, sis. Keep working hard.

To Katie Panagioutou From: Sarah PeepallI am going to miss you so much next year. You have been such an amazing friend and amomma bear. Good luck in Springfield next year, and eat plenty of cheeseballs!

To: Colin Sherman From: Tyler DiamondOnce an Eagle, always an Eagle.

To: Track Girls From: Anonymous

We are going to miss you. There is going to be so much talent to have to try to live up to. Good luck incollege!

To: Track Seniors From: Armando Gonzalez

Thanks for all the support and help you’ve given by leading the teamthe way you have. We’ll all miss you next year!

To: Soccer Seniors From: Anonymous

To everyone, good luck in your college that you are going to. Also, make sure thatyou all carry on the way that Waldwick soccer is played to your college teams. Havefun and we will miss you.

Senior Words of Wisdom

Don’t get involved with stupid drama and mind your own business-Jess Colucci

Just be me-Tyler Glovin

When someone asks you what college you are going to, always say Harvard, nomatter what-Kyle Doughterty

Take the classes that you find interesting and enjoy to be in, while dropping the ones that are apain and you suffer to get through. Also, always try to get another Independent or Study Hall-it’sawesome-Corey Barthold

Honesty is the best policy-Julia Striegel

Don’t do what everyone else is doing just to fit in. Be pure and be yourself because in the endyou’ll be the one that everyone respects. Don’t fall into doing things you never thought you’d doand aren’t ready for. You don’t want to be known for scandalous things. Respect yourself, andstay away from people who love drama-Molly Healy

Make everyday interesting-Erin Moore

Strive to do the best you can. But don’t forget that your best is not enough-Matthew Palladino

Stay in school, every year counts. Don’t have too much fun; mediate work and play-John Chiofalo

When dealing with people, remember three words: accept, cherish, and love. Accept people for who they trulyare and don’t try to change them. Cherish and enjoy everything about them. Finally, learn to love people and themoments you share with them because you never know how many moments are left-Kim Marsden

Just deal with it until you’re a senior-Christine Scherb

Latch onto friends who are always there, and take Dr. Ling’s class because he’s the best-Jess Niblo

Take advantage of everything that is being offered to you and enjoy the high schoolexperience to the fullest-Karine Yamout

Don’t procrastinate or waste your time on anything; once you take your time and planaccordingly you’ll realize how good you can do something-Melissa Mojica

Try freshman year-Michele Figliuolo

Keep the school clean especially the bathroom or they will be locked and it will be achallenge finding one that isn’t. Enjoy your senior year-time goes by in a flash. Tip forgym: Always lay down on the turf. When you go on a field trip to see surgery get off thetrain when the door opens.-Andrew Goldman

Don’t let others bring you down. Someone else’s opinion of you should nevermatter. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. Just remember, ugly is justan opinion-Paige Battista

Try your best to maintain a 3.0 gpa. It really helps with college Also enjoyhigh school-it goes by really fast.-Andrew Conyngham

I spent a lot of time in high school worrying about what people think of me.I really wanted to be myself but was really afraid to. So I leave you with thisquote by Eleanor Roosevelt: “Do what you feel in your heart to be right-foryou’ll be criticized anyway. You’ll be damned if you do, and damned if youdon’t.”-Lauren Foner

Get the most out of high school. Don’t take anything for granted and doeverything that you enjoy. Don’t get the bathrooms locked again-MikeArcher

Though most of you if not all don’t realize it, these are the best years of yourlife. You have to make the most of it. Sure college will be awesome, butthese are your final years in our Waldwick bubble and it’s not until you leave itthat you want to stay. Don’t waste your time guys and most importantly, don’tforget what’s important: Friendship + Love-Sal Orsino

Enjoy it as much as you can and don’t let anything bother you like anargument or rumors because you don’t have so much time here. Time fliesand the petty things won’t matter when it’s time to leave and go off indifferent directions, from friends-Nicole Van Dyke

Be yourself and do what makes you happy. It’s your opinion that matters, noteveryone else’s-Erica Dischino

Be ready to face any challenges that might be foolish enough to face you-EmilyMoore

Volunteer if you can, It’ll pay off in the long run-Patty McHugh

Join clubs and get involved-Joe Markman

Try your best and by the time you get to college, everything will fall into place-MaggieClaus

You will accomplish more when you look presentable. Sparknotes will be your most visitedwebsite. Don’t develop senioritis your junior year (like I did). Stay home as often aspossible. Take Dr. Ling and Ms. Sacci’s classes. If you can take Kish’s class, take it. Don’tscrew up (too much)-Meredith Levine

Enjoy the time you have here with your friends and teachers. Don’t beafraid to ask questions especially if you have new ideas-Meg Hahn

Don’t take any moment for granted. It literally flies by. In the end, high schoolwas the best four years of my life thus far. Don’t screw around too much buthave as much fun as possible because you’ll never experience anything like highschool. Enjoy it.-Rikuo Nakamoto

Relax, breathe, and you will do fine-Arianna Blanchard

Stay in school, wear your seatbelt, don’t run with scissors, and drink your milk-AlexScheurman

Don’t slack off because you will regret it when it comes time toapply for college. And follow what you want to do no matter whatpeople think or say-Ashley Ott

Never give up, ever. Even when you feel you can’t do anymore. You can accomplishgreat thinks when you set your mind to it-Angela Skelley

Winning is the most important thing in the world-Zach Neugebauer

Do well and try your best in all your classes so you can go to a real college and get out of thistown!-Brooke Craven

Don’t leave all your work until last minute-Christine Mulvaney

Artwork by Robyn Willey

SAFELY LETTING GOBy Melissa DaviesFor most humans, letting go is notsomething that comes easy. And, in light ofthat, how can this subject even bedefined?Well, I would consider letting go as theactual moment when one decides thatwhatever emotional baggage they’rehanging on to is no longer worth holding. Atthe moment that that baggage is released,letting go occurs. I used to think “lettinggo” was cowardly and something only foundin fiction and movies. But I now know,without a doubt, that this letting go is afact and it is doable. However it is hard toaccomplish successfully. And it will mostlikely occur for the soul of people desiringit only over a long period of time and innerstudy of the workings of one’s stressfulmind.Letting go is something that occurs insideone and it is only visible to that person.Usually it is not shown outside the personwho just let go. It comes as a sense ofresolution with the internal mental andemotional struggle that they were justbattling out inside the ‘mind’.Letting go is evidenced by a sort of innerpeace that the way a situation wasresponded to before is no longerappropriate or necessary. There is a wayout of the struggle with that situation forthat person now. The over half-century oldsaying states:“God, grant me the serenity to accept thethings I cannot change,The courage to change the things I can,And the wisdom to know the difference.”This is more than just a few words in a tritepoem penned by a man in the early 20thcentury.These words are something that helps oneunderstand that the actual process of lettinggo is something that wholly occurs insideone, but forever changes their worldoutside of them as well.

Why is it so hard to let go and why do somany people struggle with this fact of life?I believe it’s because of past behavior andheavily conditioned actions that have, in asense, solidified the behaviors in theperson with the struggle to let go. Sort oflike when you get a bad tattoo... You getthat ink for your life unless you can affordthe thousands of dollars and have the paintolerance to get it removed.Hanging onto one’s reaction to a situation isa habit. Pure and simple. The tattoo is thebad reaction to the situation. And liketattoos, habits are difficult to get rid of.For most it’s a deeply entrenched habitthat is not going to give up without astruggle. The mind will work ever so hardto have the thinker, the person, believethat the past way of reacting to a situationis the only way to react to that situation.The mind wants the mind holder to believethat there is no other way to respond tothe events that Life throws at us.There are so many issues in today’s world.There are cyber bullying, suicides, sexting,rape, and so much more depressing andserious issues... And after several decadesof society seriously changing withtechnology, letting go can either get easierfor a person, or worse. The internet cannever be erased. Once you put somethingout there- it’s out there for life even afteryou click delete.But, let go of what?Let go of the past.Past behavior.Past thoughts.Past actions.Past beliefs.Letting go simply is not easy to do. Andeven though one may say they want it,even though one may say that they believein it, that is not enough to make it happen.But, contrary to this, it still does comedown to an actual moment of ‘letting go’.Yes, it doesn’t make sense. Yes, it still begs

Photo by Lauren Foner

the question “So, exactly how do I let go?”Well, when I found myself posing that typeof question once several years ago, I wasgiven the answer that it’s kind of likechoosing between two different ice creamflavors in the ice cream aisle in thesupermarket. How do you choose betweenvanilla or chocolate? Easy…You just choose. You see a choice, and thenyou choose.Is letting go that easy as well? Well, whendone after much resolve and innerconviction, yes, it is.It’s a whole body understanding that thepast baggage held inside the mind to-dateno longer is appropriate for this samesituation from here on in.It’s a complete and absolute knowing thatbehaving the way one has to-date no longeris needed. Or necessary. It’s dropping whatwas and accepting what is.It’s giving up the struggle with what is.Letting go is outside the mind. Letting go is

seeing that what is, is. And any amount ofdenial, fighting, resisting, arguing, wishing,or bargaining isn’t going to change what is.Letting go. It really is an art.The question right here and right now foryou, my dear reader, is: Are you willing towipe off the canvas of your Life, and startnow clean, clear, and new?You can safely let go of whatever Lifesituation is bothering you, you know. Trustme on this.

Dallas Carpenter

T’was Red Bulls and DC UnitedDid Timbers into SoundersAll California were the ocean groves,And the red bank Earthquakes.

Beware the Union!The teeth that bite, the nails that cut!Beware the RevolutionThe Galaxy force

He took his Rapids in handLong time the opponent foughtUntil he rested by a riverAnd sat a while and thought

And, as in Salt Lake thought he stoodThe Lake with eyes of flame,Came Impact through the WhitecapsAnd fire as it came.

One, two, One, two and through and throughThe Impact went scorelessHe left it dead and with its headHe went United back.And has thou slain the Hotspur?Come to my arms, my crew!Barcelona day! Manchester City! Real Madrid!He reading in his joy.

T’was Swansea city and the Stoke CityDid Manchester into LiverpoolAll California were ocean grovesAnd the bay of San Francisco.

Poem by

Artwork by Meg Hahn

Photo by Kim Marsden

Artwork by Meg Hahn

Artwork by Meredith Levine

Artwork by Dawn Cutrofello

Dear High School Student,By Melissa Davies.

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of theauthor's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, livingor dead, is entirely coincidental. HOWEVER; "A suicidal person may not ask for help, but that doesn'tmean that help isn't wanted. Most people who commit suicide don't want to die—they just want to stop

hurting. Suicide prevention starts with recognizing the warning signs and taking them seriously. If you think afriend or family member is considering suicide, do not hesitate to get them professional help and talk to

them." For more information go to: http://www.helpguide.org/mental/suicide_prevention.htm If you yourselfare feeling suicidal or depressed, please dial 9-1-1 or 1-800-273-TALK

I drew a map of my high schooland stuck gold stars on all the girl’s bathrooms.

This is the best one for crying, for hiding, for skipping class because you are afraid of the wrath of a teacherwhose class you skip too often.

I used to sit in the stalls and draw butterflies on my wrists and thighs.At fifteen I was afraid to raise my hand, to break the spell of invisibility.

I thought nobody could see me and I liked it that way.But today, on the edge of eighteen, feeling golden

I went to the bathroom that used to be the best room for hiding.I went for natural business this time.

To wash my hands and check my makeup,Not to run from any demons except the fullness of a lit class lecture.

And I expected to be alone…..

But I wasn’t alone.She was on her knees in a stall crying,

high school sophomore, sobbing and coughing and gagging.Here she was, hiding like I had for so many years

and I was banging on the stall door.Because I have always been the odd one out,unable to connect or keep friends or be happy.

I have always felt like an alien, gasping words in a foreign tongueSet out in front of an audience of unforgiving strangers.

It isn’t funny; it’s scary.And when you are tired, kneeling on the tile floor of your high school bathroom,

vomiting lunch and flushing, you understand more than anybodythat hell is not in the afterlife:it is a place we visit on earth.

So I was banging on the stall door, praying she was okay.She said, “Please just leave. I’m fine.”And I said, “God, you know I can’t.

And you know you are not.Open up the door and come out.”

She was fifteen, blonde with scars on her wrist and makeup stains on her cheeks.

I said, “Listen to me.You are brave simply for existing. But you cannot do this alone.”And she cried, and she cried, and she cried.

She said, “I’m only fifteen and I’m afraid of what life will be like when I’m older.I didn’t mean to end up here, with a stranger staring me down.

I didn’t mean to be so dirty and worthless,But I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

I gave her a tissue.She said, “I’m failing math and English class and I have a D in science and my friends can’t stand me, andlunch is awful alone; no one ever invites me to parties, and boys think I’m fat and I’m ugly and I’m lonely,

God, I’m so lonely and no one can save me and nothing’s worth saving.”When I was fifteen I used to practice writing suicide notes in my diary.

It was never serious,it was just an idea to play with when I felt unwanted:

letters from the deepest cracks of high-school society.

My God, it was like looking into a mirror.I saw the blush in her cheeks, the brightness behind her eyes, and the fading scars on her thighs.

I said “High school sophomore, you know you will not be this girl forever.Beyond the unfinished homework and the test scores is an entire world worth seeing.

It’s the same for everybody.”“I don’t want to live, but I don’t want to die.

I guess I don’t want to do anything.”She was fifteen and as wild as a poisonous berry.

I told her I could hear God in her raw throat and see infinity in her eyes.There isn’t much you can say to a girl who doesn’t want to die,

but at fifteen I didn’t feel like doing anything either.I told her, “A year from now you will see things clearer than you ever have before.

A year from that you will be back in the bathroom, looking at the floor and seeing ghosts.There isn’t a lot you feel like doing, but right now you don’t need to.

I feel happy for you. I feel happy that you’re talking to me, a total stranger about this rather than, in theredoing the bad things you were before.

Soon you will be lifting yourself from the floor of the bathroom, and walking swiftly in the direction of yourdreams.

At the first sign of change you will feel your insides exploding with power, pride, and joy.It is beautiful; there is so much to learn about living,

so much to learn about humans and strangers and the feelings that keep us connected.What is happening now is not worth forgetting.”

She just looked at me scared. She said “I’m scared because I have no one to talk to to. I’m so alone. I’mlost and confused.”

I smiled and looked in the mirror.I told her,

“At fifteen I was just as lost as you are. I’m still lost, for the most part. I still want things I don’t need andfeel emotions too deeply, but I’m learning. And one thing I did learn was that skipping class and running

away from my problems and depressing emotions was not going to solve anything. Keep your face forward.And trust me when I say that the guidance department here is very good. They’ll help you more than I can

since they are professionals at what they do… As much as I do enjoy talking with you stranger, I have to tellyou that you need to speak with someone who is a professional and can get you help. Because that is whatyou need and you cannot be afraid of it. You are living in the world like a wildflower, and you will be just as

beautiful. High school sophomore, you will find everything you are looking for.Just remember nothing matters as much as you think.”

She stopped crying and hugged me. We walked together to the guidance department.And I waited for her to go inside and talk. I made sure she was not alone.

Because in the end, it’s true:You will not be this person forever. Beyond the unfinished homework and the test scores is an entire worldworth seeing. Beyond the fights with friends, the awkward lunches, and the long bus rides- is an adventure

waiting for you after graduation. And I believe every single student in this school can and will achievegreatness regardless of grades or popularity.

Photo by Jordan Kozlowski

Artwork by Dawn Cutrofello

Short Story by Julia Montella

Dusk was falling when it began to get colder. Roger sat there, huddled by his fire on the roof, waiting. Hechecked his watch. The time had to be just right, or there would be no point. Roger stared into the growingdarkness, only to see those images he had fought to block out for the past three days. Perhaps he was wrongto do so, maybe remembering them would make it easier. He smiled, amused by the notion that what heplanned to do must be any easier than it already was.

He had walked into the room, the room the two of them shared for so long. And there she was, withhim. Locked in passion like he had never seen before. Like she had surely never felt with him. She knew howhe had struggled, knew it was only a matter of time. Yet there she had been, with someone who was notRoger. It was then he knew it would be easy. He had left before they knew he saw them. But after tonight,they would know that he knew.

The cold permeated his skin, the wind seeming to soak him in shivers. He wore only an old pair ofblue jeans with a gray sweatshirt, but Roger didn’t mind being cold. The cold was no worse than the pain hefelt pressing down on his chest, but at least he knew what the cold was; at least it was something concrete heknew the cause of. The pain…well, he knew what the cause of it was. Yet it still lacked the definition of thecold…

Suddenly he heard footsteps. He held his watch up to his eyes to make sure; it was not time yet.Could they be coming already? The door to the roof opened, and a short, grizzled man with a cart emerged.Roger breathed a sigh of quiet relief; it was only a janitor. He remained still, unsure of how the man wouldreact to finding him there. He had no idea how often people came up to this roof. The janitor saw Roger, andbegan to approach him, pulling his cart behind him.

“Mighty fine night, eh?” the man asked with a smile. Roger looked at him, contemplating how toanswer.

He muttered a quick, “Yeah.” and looked away. The man, still smiling, said,

“Yes, I often see youngsters like you up here on nights like these. I like to see it, you should beenjoying nights like these…while you still have ’em.” He then began to sweep the area around them, whistlingquietly. Roger stared at him, and after a long pause opened his mouth to ask,

“While I still have them?” The man’s whistling ceased, and he looked at Roger, with a look that wassomehow piercing, yet kind and gentle all at once.

“Why, yes, youngster. You won’t be young forever, y’know.” He gave Roger a wide grin, then wentback to sweeping.

“That’s true,” Roger answered softly. Or was it? Would he be young forever, after tonight?

“You seem to have something on your mind, my boy.” the man said, straightening up. Roger simplylooked at him, trying to make sure his face revealed nothing. The man’s eyes, glittering from under his bushygray eyebrows, seemed to bore into Roger as he said, “Whatever it is, you can bet it’s not worth it.” He then

put the broom back onto the cart, gave Roger a wink, and walked off, whistling a quiet yet cheerful tune.Roger sat there, not sure what to think, and settled on contemplating his plans for the night.

The wind blew, suddenly stronger than it had been for the past half hour. He huddled closer to thefire, tucking his chin into his sweatshirt. He heard footsteps again, immediately looked up, and saw a youngwoman walking towards him. She was thin and pale, her light blond hair blowing wildly about in the gale. Shemoved rather slowly, and when the wind blew more forcefully stopped altogether, hunched over and shivering.Roger looked at her, and felt a queer sensation come over him. It was as if something inside him tried tomove, tried to reach out, tried to feel. But he pushed the sensation aside, and turned away from her, to rub hishands closer to the fire. Then curiosity overcame him, and he looked around to see where she was. She hadmoved farther in the time that the wind died down, and was only a few feet away. She kept walking, andupon nearing the fire just about collapsed next to it. Roger watched her slowly sit up and move closer to thefire, clearly aching to warm herself. Suddenly she stared directly into Roger’s eyes, her own seeming to beg,plead, and—understand. Despite the odd flash of comprehension in the woman’s eyes, Roger finally made anaccommodating gesture with his hand, to consent to her warming herself by his fire. Her eyes, suddenlyshining with gratitude, seemed to light up when she smiled at him. She scooted closer to the fire, put her handsout, and at last spoke.

“I have come very far, and the wind is strong. Thank you for being willing to share your warmth.” thewoman said in a calm, soft voice which reminded Roger of a beach at low tide.

Roger was silent for a moment, unsure of what to make of and say to her. At last he said gruffly,“You’re welcome. It really isn’t that difficult to let someone sit by a fire.”

She laughed, a sound that seemed both giddy with glee and hollow with sadness. “True,” the womananswered. “But it takes a special person to practically invite a stranger to sit by them, especially on a nightlike this. And I knew the moment you acknowledged me that you are a special person.” She began to rub herhands together, gazing into the fire.

Roger sat there, struck by her final statement. No one had ever called him special before. Was therereally something about him? No, it couldn’t be. The woman was mistaken. If he was special, he’d have noreason to be here tonight…

“Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of selfish ones,” the woman said, interrupting his broodingthoughts. “It might surprise you how many would turn you away. The things they do, the things they’ll say,”she continued, her voice getting smaller as she said, “The things they’ll drive you to do.” Now her voicetrailed off, and she looked down at her hands. Something in them seemed to strike her, for she began toexamine them, looking closely at the backs, turning them over to see her palms, and stroking her palms, all theway from her calluses to her wrists. They sat there in silence for a moment. Roger still said nothing. Hewondered who she was, and why she was saying these things. He looked at her, and saw her staring at herwrists. Her eyes seemed full of sorrow, but they shone out of an impassive face. It was as if she meant to beindifferent or angry, while inside she was just sad, and her eyes reflected her true emotions.

“Yes, the things they’ll drive you to do,” she muttered, still looking at her wrists. She sighed, andlooked right at Roger, who quickly acted as if he hadn’t been looking at her. She wasn’t fooled, and a wrysmile crept onto her face. “So what brings you here on a night as bitterly cold as this?” the woman asked, allof a sudden seeming relaxed.

“That,” she replied, “I cannot answer. If I even know, you already know better.” She got up, as if toleave, but Roger felt she couldn’t, not before he had answers. He scrambled to his feet and stood facing her,his desperate eyes looking into her soul windows of calm sadness, searching, pleading, wondering.

“But how can I know, if you haven’t given me the answer? How could I know your own failurebetter than you yourself?” he asked in a rush, his breath suddenly seeming as if it would not last much longer.

She looked back calmly. “You have the answer because you are your life.” was her reply. She tookhis fingers in her hand and squeezed them gently, then began to walk away.

Roger still didn’t understand, and knew that he didn’t want to be alone for some reason. He feltdifferent but didn’t want the new difference to change upon her departure. He started after her and grabbedher wrist, saying “No, please don’t go! I—” he stopped speaking abruptly when he felt her skin, which waswarm, but not with heat. She turned and looked at him, her face pale and the light in her eyes fading, as herealized her wrist was sticky with scarlet blood.

He cried out, falling to the ground, only to look up and see the empty rooftop, with his fire, closed doorto the stairway, and no one but himself. He looked around in astonishment; it was as if nothing had changed.She was gone. He reached out with his hand to prop himself up, remembered the blood and brought the handto his face. It was clean. He sat up, wondering. Had she been real? Had he imagined it all? The thought ofthe experience being a mere dream seemed so awful, he suddenly felt close to tears. Sadness seemed tooverwhelm his body, and it began to heave with sobs. Tears accompanied the deep, gut-wrenching sobs andhe surrendered, allowing the aching, terrible sadness to take over. He knew not why he cried, just that he hadto. She had to be real, she had helped him remember how to feel again. How could she justdisappear…Roger threw himself onto the ground, sobbing, clenching his fists, only to relax them and cover hisface with his hands. He thought he heard the door ease open, but he didn’t look up. He didn’t care. Rogerdidn’t even move until he heard a familiar voice.

It was a man, speaking softly. He sounded exactly as he did the last time Roger had heard his voice,whispering to her in their room. Roger’s sobs subsided, and he lay there in silence. Turning his head, he sawthe man speaking on a cell phone. Even in the dark, Roger could see the man had a slim, yet muscular figure,and wavy golden hair. There was a pause in his conversation, and then he laughed, his teeth gleaming in thenight. The shine of his teeth seemed to hurt Roger’s eyes. Still lying on the ground, Roger debated whether ornot to rise and make his presence known, or to remain motionless and learn more about him. He decided onthe latter, and listened closer to his phone conversation .

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I’ve been waiting for almost ten minutes,” the man said, smiling. He listenedfor a moment, then said “Of course it’s beautiful up here, clearest night I’ve seen all month. Tonight’s gonnabe perfect.” He stopped talking to listen again. “You’ll be here when? Okay, see you then, sweetheart. Yeah,I love you too. Bye.” He took the phone from his ear, and looked down at it to end the call, still smiling. Rogerstill lay motionless. He was afraid of letting a man he hated know he was there, let alone that he had beencrying. But why should he be afraid? The man had no idea who he was, no clue of how he had destroyedhim. Still, Roger thought of standing up only to be frightened by the very notion. He didn’t understand why,until he wondered if he could let the man walk away after confronting him. Roger lay there on the roof, lettingall these thoughts run through his mind. He still hadn’t decided what to do when he heard the door open again.

“Mort!” a soft, female voice called. A voice he’d thought belonged to an angel the first time he heardit. A voice that hadn’t whispered softly to him in months. A voice which now called out someone else’s name.Roger heard it, and felt his heart harden, until it was cold and unfeeling as the stone he’d tried so hard topurchase. All the anger, all the bitterness, all the betrayal came rushing back to flood his mind, and to beginpossessing his being. This was the moment he’d been waiting all night for. He raised himself just enough tocrawl to his backpack by the fire.

“Mort!” she said again, her long auburn hair flowing behind her as she ran to the strange man’s arms,which embraced her and spun her around, both people laughing as he did so. Roger quietly unzipped thebackpack, and retrieved the mechanism of his release. He crouched there, watching them. When the manstopped spinning her and put her down, she kissed him passionately. Roger stood up.

They both turned in alarm and saw him standing there, clearly shocked. “R—Roger?” she asked in atrembling voice. “What—what are you doing here?” Roger looked at her calmly, and put the gun to his head.She screamed, and the man called Mort kept one arm around her and with the other reached out to Roger,saying “Okay, easy buddy. Easy. You know you don’t want to do that.” Roger glared at him defiantly, andsaid,

“You’re the reason I want to do this! You, and her!” he pointed wildly at Mort and then at Vera, hatein his eyes. “I loved you.” Roger whispered coldly to her. “I gave you all I could, and while it wasn’t much, itwas everything I had!” his voice broke on the last word. Vera looked at him, trembling.

“But…you were leaving me,” she said softly. “There was so much money stashed in your secretplace…I was sure you were—”

“You knew I was saving for the ring!” Roger screamed. “I promised you, and you know I neverbreak a promise. I just needed one more week’s pay when I saw you with him on the day I got the layoffnotice.” Vera stared at Roger, at once disbelieving and ashamed.

“Oh, Roger,” she whispered. “I had no idea—you could have told me.”

“How could I, after seeing you two together?” he replied bitterly. “But it doesn’t matter now. You twocan have each other. You’re clearly happier with him than you ever were with me. Goodbye, Vera.” Rogerpushed the cold muzzle of the gun farther into his temple.

“Roger…please,” she whispered. He prepared to pull the trigger. “Roger, please!” she screamed. Helooked upon her for what he thought would be the last time, but saw something behind her. It was the woman,who smiled and said softly, “Please?” At last, he felt what had tried to move within him the first time he sawher dislodge completely. Roger stood there, shaking, and collapsed. Vera and Mort ran to him. From hiscrumpled position on the floor, Roger saw that the gun had slid across the roof to the very edge. He draggedhimself over, right to where he could see the racing traffic below. He gave a slight push, and the gun fell overthe edge and disappeared.

PhotoAbove by Allison Cowie

Photo Below by Christine Scherb