Ghosts

By ANGELICA GONZALES

Staff Writer

A bittersweet end 

To the short stories about a timely revenge

The aftertaste inspired by

The hard thinking

Of a tangible metaphor

The 57 Bus

By JAYLEE ROSE – FIERRO

Staff Writer

In a way, this may be old news. Occurring in November of 2013. But to many, this story shall not be forgotten. Nor shall the hate and overall cruelty that came along with it. 

November 4, 2013: The day went by normal for 18- year-old Sasha Fleishman. They went to school as a senior at their small private high school. Chatted and laughed with friends, playing their made-up board games. And then when the time came, they climbed aboard the 57 to go home. Now, you may wonder why I keep using the pronoun they. You see, Sasha Fleeishman, identifying as agender. Meaning they do not identify themselves as part of a certain gender. Sasha wore an assortment of fashionable prices. Today, it was an assembly including a white-fleece skirt. Per usual, they read their book on the back of the bus. Cozied up on a bench. Feet tucked underneath them. 

Unbothered and asleep, Sasha soon found themselves drifting off into a slumber, unbeknownst to the group of boys that stood just mere feet away. The group included Richard Thomas, 16. The next chain of events has been blurred and unclear in the multiple sources that were told along the way. But, in summary, Richard Thomas set Sasha Fleishman’s skirt on fire, engulfing them in flames. 

Shasha suffered severe 3rd-degree burns on her legs. Charred skin making up 22% of their body. Richard Thomas was tried as an adult, facing life in prison with 2 hate crimes. Richard’s story was he did it because “he was homophobic”. A statement that would be used against him

Harbor

By  ANGELICA GONZALES

Staff Writer

One day I’ll find you at the harbor

Maybe you’ll find me

Where the water is as muddy as my mind

But my heart is clearer

And when you’d like it

I’d hold you nearer

If you don’t mind

I’ll find you

When your mind is clear too

When her plague is gone

And your fear is too

I’ll be there

Until then, I’ll be at the harbor

Respect Our Athletics

By: CAMERON ASHFORD

Staff Writer

On Friday, we had our fall sports rally. Everything went really well, but there was one thing that stood out to me and everyone else who attended. When we introduced our varsity football team there was an obscene amount of booing from the upperclassmen. It seemed the higher the grade, the more booing there was. After, the booing came to a crashing halt, our principal put a stop to it. He talked to us about respecting our athletes and how hard these groups of young men and women work. I believe we should show a bit more respect and kindness to our hard-working athletes no matter what record they have, what grade they are in, what race they are, and how much playing time they actually get. These young men and women should be respected and treated right because if they did not step up at all we would have had no chance to win championships, win “Battle for the Saddle”, and show our true potential as an amazing athletic school. So please say hi to a fellow athlete, encourage your athletic friends, and bring back the school spirit we need to accomplish big things as a school and as people!

Upcoming Events for El Diamante High School

By MEGAN TUCKER and DELILA GUTIERREZ

Staff Writers

September 30-October 5

• Tuesday 1
  • Senior Portrait Makeups (Career Center)
• Wednesday 2
  • Grades 9-11 Picture Makeups (Career Center)
• Thursday 3
  • Choir Fall Concert at LJ Williams (7:00PM)
• Saturday 5
  • Moonlight Harvest Dance at MWHS (8:00-11:00PM)

October 7-11

• Monday 7
  • Band Showcase at Groppetti Stadium (7:30PM)
• Friday 11
  • Orchestra Concert at LJ Williams

The Breeding Of Hatred

By BLAINE ROCHE

Staff Writer

Within the deep, dark depths, Hatred festered. It seethed and boiled, seeming unbridled by its prison. It glared around at the abyssal blackness that encapsulated it. Hatred willed to see and see it did. The baleful, amber fire flared within the skull of the creature, illuminating the refuse and scum ridden sewer in a deep red-orange glow like hellish spotlights. The small creatures swimming in the foul water darted away with pathetic squeals as the spotlights scanned over its surface. Hatred kept looking, for any sign of escape. It strained its eyes in the darkness, but the spotlights could only show so far. Hatred waded through the sludge and muck with a watery, slopping sound. The water seemed to never end. The spotlights faded as it looked up at the tiny White Sun, thousands and thousands of miles up in the starless sky. Where the sun resided, so did the people who had forsaken Hatred. They tossed it from the White Sun, into the filth of the Dyruke, where they tossed everything they didn’t want, everything they were afraid of. Things like a small, young, gray-furred creature with ape-like posture. However, it was exiled for another reason. The skin on the creatures face, pulled back past its forehead, revealed an eyeless, canine skull. The wretched creatures that lived happily, without a care in the world. They all had nothing to worry about, a wonderful life they live. It craned its head and roared at the top of its lungs. The furious, booming howl of the creature echoed throughout the boundless walls of his prison. No matter how hard it looked, Hatred couldn’t find the walls. It longed to reach the surface, to wreak havoc upon the people who wronged, tortured, tormented, and condemned it to its eternal bastille. It dropped onto all fours, digging its long, jet claws into the soft accumulation of trash and remains. It’s tongue lolled from Hatred’s jaws as acrid saliva dripped into the water it stood in. It glared into the water intently. The water shrunk from its gaze. Then, without warning, a colossal object collided with the water to its right, sending a wave-like a tsunami washing over Hatred, sending it tumbling away from the object. Hatred righted itself and rammed its hands into the ground, keeping the waves from throwing him any further. As the surf subsided, Hatred shook the water and grime from it’s blackened fur. The spotlights began to show through the darkness again as Hatred’s gaze scanned for the object in the darkness. It waded in the direction it was thrown from. Shortly after, it was met with a monstrous collum, reaching all the way to the White Sun. A rope. Hatred plunged its claws into the rope and squatted into the water. It’s thick cords of muscle clenched to the point of tearing, until Hatred leaped up the rope, pushing off the Dyrke bottom with its legs and throwing itself with its arms. It scaled the rope with supernatural speed, agility, and strength. It wasn’t going to waste the chance at escape. The chance to purge the malignant people who cast him into that dark hell. It wasn’t going to spend another eternity within its prison. Hatred’s fur began to ignite and exploded into a blaze of fury and vengeance, further blackening its skull and fur. It continued its mad dash to the top of the rope. The demon reached the top and was blinded by white light as it climbed out of the pit. As its eyes adjusted, it could see all of the people staring at the blackened, eyeless creature with an inferno flaring from its body. The people standing around the creature began to run. The demon let out an enraged roar and began its blood lustful, hate-fueled rampage. It ravaged the people and their children with claws teeth, strength, and fire, showing mercy to none. Soon the walkways ran thick with blood and flame. The demon sat on its haunches, covered in burnt human remains and caked in blood. It licked what it could from its fingers with relish. It picked up a limp corpse and began to devour the body, the demon’s jaws snapping bone and tearing flesh with ease. Despite all the death, blood, and fire that surrounded it, the demon was far from finished. Its rage far from quelled.

Fall Sports Rally

By KYRA HASH

Staff Writer 

     El Diamante had their Fall Sports Rally Friday, September 27th. The rally was Harry Potter themed and each class was from a different house. Freshmen were Hufflepuff, sophomores were Ravenclaw, juniors were Slytherin, and seniors were Gryffindor. They introduced all the sports and their seniors who were part of the teams. There were games they played as well with the students and teachers. This was our first rally that was not mandatory and it was good to see so many in attendance.

Hot Motion: Temples Delivers a Well-Rounded Motion

by MITCHELL COTE

Staff Writer

Temples arrived on the scene in 2014 with goodwill and a solid first album. They came back in 2017 to merge their previous neo-psychedelic sound with synths in a record that avoided the dreaded sophomore slump. So now it’s 2019, and Temples has come back around with their third album, Hot Motion. Recorded with, coincidentally, three members (their drummer left prior to recording), this album delivers another solid listening experience.

Temples made sure to pack Side A of this album with the best tracks. Indeed, from the opening guitar riffs of the title track to the half-speed guitar solo of “Context”, the album hits high speed and shows no signs of slowing down. But following “Context”, something odd happens – Temples lets go of the gas and lets the album coast to the end. The next four tracks, while solid all the same, feel like they exist just to exist. There are, however, 2 good points in this lull – “The Beam” showcases some interesting vocal panning during its outro, while “Atomise” comes in as quiet as a mouse, and suddenly roars like a lion as heavy guitars and drums carry the song to the finish. And as we finally hit the end of the tracklisting, we get some nice bookends as “Step Down” with its choir (presumably sourced via Mellotron) and “Monuments” with its seemingly musical-inspired sound finally manage to bring the record back into full gear.

In the end, this album is like a bridge – you have your road and then you have your pillars. No one cares much for the pillars, as they’re not important to anyone’s lives at large – but everyone needs the pillars. If you didn’t have the pillars, the bridge would be in danger. The back-half of the tracklist is the pillars to the front half’s bridge, and they come together to form a cohesive whole and an enjoyable listen.

You Came Looking For a King

By: STEVIE WEBER

Staff Writer

My sword gouged into the enemy beasts’ chest cavity. As it died, it’s weight shifted on to me. Put off balance, I stumbled and shoved the beast to the ground where it landed, kicking up dust. The dust wafted up to my face and I coughed. I took a step back, dropping my sword and used one hand to wave the dust off and the other to cover the glare from the sun. My eyes survey the battlefield. It seemed we were winning. As I was about to take a step back into battle, a soft noise bugged my brain. I stopped.

It crackled out of… speakers? But from where? We were on an open battlefield. Swords and yelling should have been the only overbearing sounds. Yet, I heard it. It took rest in my head and consumed my thoughts. The song was slower than it should have been. Usually, it was fast: upbeat, and made you want to dance. But as it rang out over the battlefield, seemingly from nowhere, it was slow. Eerie. Its new tone was dark. It signaled the end. There were men and creatures still fighting one another. No one else heard the music. The intro leisurely grew to the opening lyrics. 

You can dance~

You can jive~

As the first words rang through my ears, a figure appeared over the horizon which we were fighting over. He glowed like a beacon. A power that I had only dreamed of wafted over his body, poured out of every orifice. He walked, as slow as the song. As if he were the reason for it. 

Having the time of your life~

The sky grew dark; a cloud covered the sun. By now, the clashing beings stopped to stare at the man. His blue skin glared like a storm, and his pale, yellow horns reached tall over his head. White jewels hung from them as if to emphasize his godly-ness. But he was not one of the Gods; though it seemed he possessed their power. 

See that girl~

Watch that scene~

His arms raised slowly, large, pale violet wings rose with them. I hadn’t noticed them before, but how could you? With that man walking towards you. The end. That is what he was. From his hands erupted flames of blue and purple. Like a tsunami, the flames covered the battlefield. Whose side was he on? The waves engulfed everything. The song was overbearing now. It was all I could hear. His eyes rested on me from across the plains. I sat. My legs no longer worked. Never again would I dance. With a flick of his wrist, I was no more. As I faded along into the darkness, the song followed along, slowly creeping with me as we entered the abyssal sleep.

Dig in the dancing queen~

The song that inspired this piece. Listen with headphones for the best experience. 🙂

(if this link does not work, try the second one) Click the “play” icon in the top left corner to listen on the desktop!