Behind doors are secrets (to discover or not)
By Stella Z. Hu (aka Twig)
Discussed: blood, possible death
A liminal space I found in my school, and what I left there.
There’s an odd, twisted kind of whimsy to be found on an empty hidden stairwell
In the wings of an auditorium stage
When your teacher is absent and your classmates are all on their phones.
The corners have dust and cobwebs.
The walls are yellow, cracked, warped, and peeling, with a few fluorescent lights
Illuminating red stains on them.
They’re probably watercolor paints,
but I can’t help but think of some innocent fellow child’s blood.
The thought makes me both shiver and giggle.
There’s no telling where it goes.
I pulled a little on the two doors on either side of the landing at the top, but I couldn’t open them.
Might be for the best.
I don’t try to pull harder. I’m not quite brave enough for that.
For all I know some nightmarish creature could be sealed behind one of them.
Probably not. But the thought won’t leave my mind.
I can’t tell if it makes me feel more terror or glee.
I might give it another shot sometime.
Once or twice I think I hear voices from above,
and I wonder if I should run before I’m caught.
I don’t. I freeze and wait until they’re gone.
I sit on the landing in the middle, and I read a book.
I feel the need to add something to the atmosphere,
make it raise just a few more questions and few more neck-hairs for the next person.
I take out my pencil and scrawl a message on the wall:
Don’t ask.
Don’t listen.
Don’t forget.
Taking Root: The Girls Write Now 2022 Anthology
For more than two years, our young writers have weathered an adolescence shaped by an ongoing global pandemic. But a harsh climate can also produce work of rare depth, complexity, nuance and humor. The Girls Write Now mentees in this collection have found new ways to build community and take root. This anthology is a catalog of seeds—each young writer cultivating a shimmering, emergent voice. In short stories, personal essays, poetry, and more, they reflect on life-altering topics like heartbreak, self-care and friendship. The result is a stunning book with global relevance of all this generation has endured and transformed.
Process
My mentor and I used a word randomizer to match abstract ideas with concrete images. One particular combination got me thinking about this piece.
Stella Z. Hu (aka Twig)
Stella/Twig is a biracial (Greek/Chinese) Spiral-aligned autistic aroace seven-and-a-half-year-old in a seventeen-year-old’s body. She writes short stories both original and fanfic, as well as song parodies. She’s a hardcore Trolls fan, a theater kid, a Tumblr addict and above all a crazy little space elf who exists to paint rainbows on everything in existence, including the establishment. She’s still waiting to find a way into a magical world and have awesome adventures, but until then she will be doing so 24/7 inside her imagination and online roleplay. She physically lives in Manhattan with her mom, dad, brother and imaginary friend.
