6 Limekiln Pike

 

Place: 6 Limekiln Pike

Face: My friends, Jedidah and Shuo

Phase: Sophomore Year

Some of the best and some of the worst events in my college career happened in this house. It was my first time living with friends. Six people hailing from different parts of the world. The house was like a congregation of cultures and attitudes. I hated and loved each and every single person at the same time.

One by one we left the coop. There’s not much to say that isn’t going to come out mawkish. The house was a culmination. And in a month, we are going to continue on with our separate lives like we did before we met.

I am a deeply sentimental person. I miss every single place I have lived in, especially the ones I hated and loved at the same time.

Alice the Insomniac

Once upon a time, there was a girl who couldn’t sleep

So what she did was, she decided to meet with the local creep

“How goes it?” she asks.

The creep had on a mask.

He said, What are you doing up so late?

I’m pretty sure you have class at 8.

“I never ask why you know things,

shut up before you become another I hate.”

The truth was she used to have a strict 9 pm sleeping schedule.

Until the time she learned to hate people

Soon she found that each person contributes a minute

And right now she was 359 on her spite list.

She was deathly afraid of the witching hour

So everyday she expended all her power

Holding her tongue, fighting back thoughts of malice

The poor, dear girl named Alice

But on this particular night, she found a solution

She smirked as she smoothed her hands with lotion

To ease the friction the skin usually gets

After wringing a person’s neck

“You can’t hate someone you’ve killed.”

she reminds herself under her breath

And as she wrote down, “Kills #1 Creepy Will”

A minute was added – that is, a minute further from her death.

By C.A.

January 29 2016, 1-5 am

Interlude

 

Destruction. Stillness. Growth and hope.

These photos were taken in my cousin and her husband’s house in Luton, a town northwest of London. I visited for two weeks during Christmas break in 2015.

The light pitter-patter of the rain made me drowsy on the bus en route to the airport the night I was flying to England. As it happens, I was listening to Clams Casino’s “I’m God” on repeat, and I was shocked into consciousness during one of the bass drops. The two ladies across from me noticed and chuckled. I didn’t know what to do so I did a kind of laugh-grin and mumbled an embarrassed “Sorry.”

St. Andrews, UK


I attended the University of St. Andrews in the fall of 2016. I had a very strange time when I was there. Throughout the semester, about five people involved with the University died. It was alarming since the population of St. Andrews’ Uni was less than double the population of my home university, Arcadia University. I recognized two students who died: one of whom was in my Modern World Cinemas course, and the other was a girl I’ve seen around town who struck me as someone interesting. The University never disclosed any causes of death, only that there weren’t any “mysterious circumstances” involved.

But other than that, it was peaceful, it was quiet, and I was content. My en-suite accommodation was luxurious for a college student. On sunnier days (and there were not many as St. Andrews is usually gray and foggy!) I would sit by the shore and fight off birds as I devour my Greggs sandwich. There were hardly any opportunities to interact with my hall mates, or anyone else really, save for seminars or when I needed to use the shared kitchen. At the time I was experiencing quite a bit of social anxiety. So, naturally, I wasn’t eating properly. I rarely kept food in my cupboard and there was one instance where I procrastinated eating for so long that I almost fainted when I finally walked into town to feed myself. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t taking good care of myself. There was also a sneaking suspicion in the back of my head that I didn’t belong in such a prestigious school.

Something in me snapped when I realized that if I continued to be as reclusive as I was, no one would find out for a while if I were to die in my room. The thought terrified me, so I decided to make little changes in my behavior. At least one day a week I would hang out in the shared kitchen and invite my hall mates to join me in wine and conversation. I remember arranging a screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show one night. I also attended a Pokémon Society meeting one time. Both went well, and I was looking forward for more opportunities to socialize with my new buddies. Unfortunately, by the time this shift inside me occurred, my departure was nearing.