The Vessel | Krystle Whitney

You woke up extra early this morning to fix your husband his breakfast. Even though he gave you a kiss on the way out he didn’t stop to speak to you either because he was too busy or just because he was too tired. When he left, you went and woke up your children to make sure they dressed perfectly…the way you make them dress every day. Before dropping them off at their school in your shinny white mini-van you took an hour to make sure you looked presentable before you left the house. With the children gone, you went about the house making sure that everything was clean, knowing that if the neighbors were to see what your house really looked like in the morning you would be the laughing stock, too humiliated to go to the next PTA meeting. After making sure your reflection in your antique mirror was perfect you scuttled over to your neighbors house praying to catch them with their blinds open. You talked about everyone… spreading as much gossip as possible until you saw the clock and realized your children would be home any moment. Running home you made them the perfect snacks incase any of the neighbors children came over to play. Your life would be complete if you found all of the faults in everyone around you and they found none in you. You fear what everyone is saying about you behind your back.

The Vessel | Samantha Leming

You are a spoiled brat. Your single mother bought you a new mustang for your sixteenth birthday because she thought that she needed to prove to you that she was better than your dead-beat dad. You didn't care, you took the car and went to visit your dad, 'cause he bought you beer. You never appreciated your mother's gifts, just like you never appreciated your beautiful girlfriend.

You remember the first time your girlfriend told you she loved you. You said it back, so that you could get her into bed. You never cared about her. You don't know how to love, because possession is all you know. You've cheated on your girlfriend four times, and now you have three children who you mother has to pay child support for. Your girlfriend doesn't even know. All she knows is how lousy you are in bed.

The Vessel | Dany Owens

You wonder sometimes if your life would get any worse. You married the wrong man and let Mr. Right slip through your fingers. Your life has been reduced to worries, debt and threats. Your greatest hope is that one day you will be rescued by someone-anyone. You can only weep alone for the loss of your happiness.
Your hair is greying, though you're young. You once were pretty, alluring and wonderful. However, hellish is your situation and worse is your guilt. You hate your children and your husband-whom you once treasured and forsook everything for- and wish only death, though you're sure it can't get better. God's done nothing for you, why should He start now?

The Vessel | Tina Coleman

All around campus you are known as a player. You do things to make girls chase you, but only because you like to be chased. you never chase back. You date a girl long enough to makeout with her and then you move on. You rarely ask questions to get to know other people, instead you enjoy talking purely about yourself and your obsession with sports. You like people thinking you are a player because it keeps them from getting to know the real you. You want to respect girls and long for a decent relationship that lasts longer than a week, but you are quickly reminded of the time you were hurt so badly and in reality you are too scared. You talk about sports, not because you are obsessed like everyone thinks, but because it fills in the space. If you don't ask deep questions about others and try to get to know them, they won't get to know you either, which means they won't find out about your past.

the vessel | Alyssa Sanders

You make me sick. You walk down the halls of our high school like you own them, and why shouldn't you, you've left your legacy in gold on the plaques and tropheys that line our halls. You constantly make fun of the show choir and the table-tennis team, but after all, you are better than them. You have grown up hating the chess club, and make a mockary of the sterling scholars, unless of course you need to use them to cheat off of during the next test. You have no respect. When a pretty girl follows you into a class, you make sure to be courteous and while flexing you hold the door open for her. If it is some other girl you leave her to fend for herself. You are absorped in you. You will live in this same little town forever, you will marry your high school whore head-cheerleader, even though you knocked-up her best friend on homecoming night. You will live in your glory days, never letting the opportunity slip of telling anyone how you carried the football team all the way to the state championships in 89, and you would have won too, only if you hadn't been injured in the third quarter. You will live vicariously through your children, and force upon them the same beliefs that you and your father maintained.

Vessel | S. Katie Hill

You've kissed six guys in the past six weeks, but your current boyfriend doesn't know. You pretend to be a "bad girl," with your lustful comments, and bad girl attitude, but you really aren't. You aren't embarassed that you listen to punk rock and musical movie soundtracks in a mixed playlist. You love living in the dorms, but hate your roommate because she steals your snacks. You can, unaided, eat an entire bag of Doritos in one sitting, but still maintain that jealousy provoking figure. You wear those worn-out, ripped jeans about three times a week because you think the giant hole on the butt is hot and draws attention to your body. Even though you crave that attention, you act disgusted when you are being "checked out." You won't leave home without your hair done and make-up on. You are pretty and you know it, but you like to pretend that it isn't true. Your friends all know that you fish for compliments with your self-degrading remarks. You really don't think you are fat, and you know that your eyes can get you anything you want. You are a daddy's girl, an only child, a "princess," but you are generous and loving. You didn't know you could be catty until you lived with roommates, now you aren't intimidated by their remarks-- you stand up for yourself. You strive for good grades, but sometimes you'd just rather cuddle up with a good romance novel than do your homework.

Vessel | Cora Bryan

You stand there in the frilliest ballet outfit of all the other 5-year-olds and yet, you don't smile. Your mom stands by, ready to pounce into action at any moment, being the stage mom that she is. On nights of recitals or when pictures are taken, you go to the salon to get your hair and make up done. When you get older you will be great at dancing, but it won't be your passion. You'll be on the cheerleading team for social reasons, not because you like it. You will get away with everything in school. I can see a teacher in middle school catching you cheat on an assignment and your mother will be there defending you, telling your teacher that it's your right and threaten with angry promices and give him another reason to hate his job. You will become pregnant in high school, not knowing the father and although there is a part of you that wants to raise the baby, your mother reminds you who you are to become and takes you to the abortion clinic, but not for your future really, but for her own facade. She wanted you to graduate with honors and for your reward, since the US finds it unsafe for an 18 year old to party hard, she will send you to a third world country to party hard.

You, voted man of the year, have to give a sexual herasment meeting at work today. It's part of your job, being the president of the law firm. It makes you increadibally uncomfortable to think about doing it though. After all, you are ultra conservative, even though, theres an unsettling feeling inbedded deep within you that makes you afraid.
During the meeting you are very careful not to go into any kind of detail on definitions and you don't use examples. You make certain that you are fair to both genders with "Male on female sexual herasment and female and male, but you don't even consider to mention male on male or female on female. You keep many skelatons in your closet. Your life is too great to let it desinigrate with secret desires. Your greatest desires involve nakid men in a giant tub of butterscotch pudding. Your wife senses something wrong with you gus make love. life and you can't even look at your son.

Vessel | Kendall Pack

Somehow it has stuck in your mind that the scars on your arms are cool. You think that blood is something that needs to be seen. You don't understand it when people tell you how beautiful you are. You're always telling people that they don't understand your problems. You are questioning your belief in God out loud so people will notice. You want to rebel, but you are pathetic at it. You are trying so hard to hate everyone. But deep down, all you want is for someone to fall deeply in love with you. You try to steal other girl's boyfriends because you enjoy it. You ask them to tell you it's alright and for them to hold you close. You are sick and you don't want to hear about it. You think your trials are too much and that you are the only one who has to take on such burdens. You don't even try to look across the cash register at your customers who have much more weight on their shoulders. You make sure that the world knows that you know that they have turned away from you. And one day, they will.

Vessel | Colin Maynes

You see them standing there smoking a cigarette with such contempt it can barely be harnessed. You wonder what brought him here. Tragedy, Abuse, Depression, Accidental Death, You can see the terror for normailty, the tension carried in your shoulders. Your long hair, attitude, and suicidal music. No scale can measure the hatred in your heart, the contempt he has. Your anthem is Reverie, in death metal. Your life changed Sept 11th 2001 although you has never seen the craters where monolithic towers once stood. Although you may appear to be at rock bottom you are the epitomy of perfection, no attatchments to physical wants. Outspoken with a silver tongue you can manipulate anyone. You wear your heart on your sleeve but it is so blackened by all the cigatettes you have smoked it blends right in with your black t-shirts, the only kind you own. The only love you has ever truely known has now abandoned you since you converted to catholicism. Your mother wonders what she did to let you fall into this unholy place, lost somewhere in superstition and deeply rooted religious beliefs. You dress every day like you might go to war, 2 hidden knives, brass knuckles, and a 3 foot length or wire--because you never know... You are fit, not because you exercise but because your body tries so hard to expell all the carcinogens and alcohol. Your liver has more freckles than a red-head in July. You were born in the wrong era, were you born 5,000 years ago YOU would be a God, you can conquer nations faster than you can smoke a cigarette. Horrifically misunderstood by the average stander-by you are considered a loner by most. You have a tight knit group of friends, but no best friend-those are your weapons that you sharpens on a regular basis. Vessel.

The Vessel | Cyane Kramer

There is a fence between confidence and just getting by. You stand at that fence, fingers stretching through the links, trying to squeeze to the other side; trying to convince everyone that you are already on the other side. Your clothing choices reflect the current conformity, every piece fitting the up-to-date fashion code for your age. Twenty or more dollars for any article you wear is cheap for you and your pocketbook, which you pretend is inexhaustible. You eat out almost all the time, as you are too busy trying to climb that fence to worry about taking care of yourself for the long haul. You built a façade, like a magic face that transports you to confidence, like a building on the wrong side that pretends to be right. You want to pretend that people can see you when you are acting exactly like them, that they regard you as a standout exemplary. You mask your insecurities by pretending that none of them exist. There is a fence between confidence and just getting by, and you want to pretend that just getting by is truly an example of confidence.

The Vessel | Ashleigh Word

You look so put together now, your business suit and tie the “Clark Kent” disguise to hide your Superman. Though your secret involves a double life, it has nothing to do with the power to see through walls. Instead, you dress like that to keep people from seeing through you -to keep them away from your shady past.
You were once a wild child. The type parents like to disown because they are an embarrassment to the family. You did every possible drug you could find, and were a simultaneous alcoholic. College was the best time of your life because you could do what you wanted without your ultra-conservative parents breathing down your neck.
You went to every Woodstock every year possible – if you weren’t too high to make it there on your Harley.
So what happened? Why the suit and tie and lunch meeting where you are trying too hard? You used to care less what people thought, but now all you want is to be accepted.
I hate to burst your bubble. I can see through your façade. You want to be accepted and have your past forgotten, but that’s kind of hard when you still have your Harley hidden in the garage.

The Vessel | Rebecca Nebeker

On the outside you try to appear perfect. You flash your smiles all day long and then when you close the door to your room, you let all of your insecurities come to the surface. You try to convince your friends that you are excellent at the violin, even though you clearly are not. It is the only thing you can give the world. Moving out of the house away from your mommy who never let you think for yourself or make your own desicions threw into shock. Your roommates live in sin: they watch MTV and go to bed late. You are alone in your "tribulations." You just found out that because of all of this you are severely inexperienced with life and you are very naive to the "real world". And people around you roll their eyes at your ignorant comments and wide-eyed notions of anything different than your used to. For they have been through life: divorces, deaths, and pain and you haven't a clue what that pain feels like--now you know that. Ignorance is bliss they say, but not for you. You have no wisdom, no sympathy, no understanding of real-life troubles. It's great to grow up blessed but only when you know it. But no bother, you are in denial of your lacking, continue to smile to mask the insecurities, your mom is far away and can't help you now, but I can see right through you.

The Vessel | Olivia Creps

There you stand, as if you are waiting for something or someone. But I know better. You stand that way to look cool, so you can ignore the rest of us. You have no idea what people think about you, but you act as if you don't care with your shoulders straight and your nose high. Unfortunately for you I recognize that look you give another guy that walks by, and I realize that you are insecure. Your cover is almost complete except for your occasional glance at another person- no wonder you keep your head high and try to ignore the rest. You were given too many chances to become someone great, but right now you realize that your boring life is completely your own fault, although you wish you could brush it off your shoulders and five it to someone else.

The Vessel/Collette Charles

You sound tired. I'm not sure if it was work, or the strain of being so far away, but you sound exhausted tonight. The metallic smell of the phone is not what I want to be thinking about right now, but you're not talking, and I can't think of a thing to say. I'm so tired of talking to my cellphone. I want your face in front of mine. We do that thing, that awkward beginning of two conversations that clash into each other. "I just-" you say. "So how-" I try. "Sorry." We repeat together. And then interrupt each other again. "What were you-" "What was it that-" I laugh. You laugh. We all laugh. Oh we're just so funny tonight. I am quiet, letting you know it's your turn to say something. You seem to be waiting for me to do the same. I listen closely and can hear you breathing. You always breathe louder than necessary. Like you're afraid somehow the air might be gone soon, and you need to store it all up in your lungs. For safekeeping. You mumble something. "Um..." I don't respond. I just want to keep doing this, keep storing up the only contact I have with you. For safekeeping. In case you're not even real and it's just this phone that talks to me every night for hours. In case I imgined all the times we spent together and made up this person I have come to love. "You there" I hear you say. "Collette?"
"Yeah. I'm here."

The Vessel/Staci Wilson

You are kind, uncommonly kind. You can't think as fast as you use to, at least before the accident. Your body may be mangled, and you may need others to take care of you now, but you are still you. Smiling is your greatest power as you stroll by people on your small stretcher-like bed. You are never wishing things back to the way they were, when you were whole, only that you could reach out and touch people again, give hugs and dance. People say you are mentally handicapped but you know better. You hear them, you see your parent's reactions and you know it isn't true. You see better than you ever have before, all the colors, sounds, smells and tastes. Everything is beautiful to you now, because you have time to look. You never wish things back to the way they were, because you are still you, despite having twisted limbs and lying on a bed forever. You are so kind. Uncommonly kind.

Vessel| Liz Sorensen

You're young and able but don't want a job. You rarely change clothes because you rarely shower. Your thin, long, hair does nothing but add to your grimy appearance. You walk the Las Vegas strip every night making vulgar statements to women just to cause others to feel uncomfortable. Your life revolves around drugs and you'll do anything for them. You appear to be absolutely insane.

The Vessel / Sierra Ehrman

When you were little, your mom told you that you could be anything in the world that you wanted to be. And you took her literally. You jumped off of houses and buildings in hopes that you could beat gravity at its own game. You knew the hospital very well. Your dad was never around to help raise you. You used to get in trouble in grade school for using swear words when you didn't even know what they meant. When you were 16, your girlfriend dumped you for the strong, popular jock at school. You are most afraid of not finding someone to share in the simple joys of life with you, that you will be alone for the rest of your life. You find the little things, like plastic bags being tossed around by the wind and the first drop of rain to hit your nose before it pours, beautiful in their own way. Raisin and peanut butter pie, your invention, is your favorite thing to eat, and you hate it when people are afraid to say no.

Vessel | Stephani Walker

Wow. Height is definitely your forte. You have obviously never had a problem with that. All nine feet of you is quite amazing, if you do say so yourself. You have always found it dumb how people have to use ladders to change light bulbs and reach things on shelves. You see, you are special. You know what you want in life and you don’t care what people think. You have an amazing allure about you that just makes people stare. Perhaps it is those long, toothpick legs that with one step cover what an average person would take five. Maybe its your five foot tall torso… who knows. All you know is, that you love life and you know that you know that you are something else. You aren't afraid of anything, except of course, for chocolate, which will make you fat. You're greatest goal in life is to become a famous fake stilt engineer at a circus...

The Vessel |Yolanda Cowan

You're his eyes and he's your legs. You compliment each other instead of hinder each other. Nobody can really know what your world is like. You need him to go get things for you, but he needs you to go with him and direct his hands. You wish that you had both inadequacies and he could live a normal life. He wishes he had both inadequacies and you could live a normal life. You've both adjusted and accepted the lives you lead. He can't see the people's faces as they stare. You can, and you're grateful for that. It's the only reason that you're grateful he can't see. You don't notice the stares anymore because the system the two of you have works. He walks for you never complaining. For all the times you feel small he lifts you up and makes you feel tall. Between the two of you, your lives are normal and you're happy. As time progresses you notice that people aren't staring anymore, instead, they're looking at the two of you in wonder and amazement. You never thought you would find someone that could accept you for what you are, but neither did he. When you found each other you were skeptical about life. As the days progressed you knew life could be good. All the anger you once felt disappeared and your outlook changed. Before you met, you weren't thrilled about being alive and you never thought you could have good things happen to you. Now, you spend your life guiding a wheelchair with your hands as a blind man holds onto the wheelchair and pushes with the strength of his legs. You wouldn't ask for anything different that can realistically be given.

Vessel | Jessica Pierce

You're an eye catcher with your bright red wig, pink tube shirt, and denim mini skirt. You have always dreamed of making it big in Hollywood as a limo driver for Winona Ryder, but due to her incarceration your plans came to a screeching halt. You found that dressing in drag helped you deal with stress, find jobs and meet people, and you haven't stopped since. A part of you wants to return to the slightly overweight, nicotine addicted, beer guzzler you once were, and the other part of you wants nothing more than to find a decent pair of fire hydrant red stiletto pumps. As you scratch your five o'clock shadow, a group of rather cute teen girls giggle to each other. You wonder where they got such cute shoes and purses, never noticing that they are giggling at your furry legs and hot pink eyeshadow. You always dismiss any insecurities you have by pulling out your compact mirror in your tiny leather purse and tell yourself "I am Aphrodite."

Vessel | Laura Funk

When you were very small, your mom took you to the circus and when you saw the clowns, you knew that someday you wanted to be one too. Now you've lived your life, so many years have been and gone since you were that wide-eyed little boy. Over the years you've worked hard and you've played hard, that's evident by your calloused hands and the twinkle in your eyes. Your hair turned white and to your great surprise, it didn't fall out, instead it grew long and full and white as snow. Now that you've retired from years of working hard, you're able to get back to your first love and take the show on the road. You've brought along a friend and you've loaded all your tricks in the brightest most box-like green car you could find. You've made a stop in Cedar and now you're on your way to the next town and beyond.

Vessel| Alexandra Winder

You've been gone for 15 months. You didn't leave with your family, or even real friends. You went with a Unit. A thing designed by the Army for men and women that serve this country. You're a soldier, not meant to cry, but to fight. You're supposedly made of strong stuff, trained to kill, to save lives, to be a medic, but you look so alone. You're family lives to far away to come to Salt Lake to meet you. They're probably in Maine or Nebraska, missing their soldier, sad that they couldn't come see you, but their sadness doesn't match yours. You want to cry as you watch the rest of your unit greet their loved ones, as they're wrapped in warm arms. You stand alone, in your uniform and holding your bags instead of your mother as she cries. You ache for a hug from someone that cares. Your camo defies your feelings. It tells you that you must be strong, when all you really want to do is weep. You became a medic because you care about people, because you want to help them. Now who will help you? Who will welcome you home, on this, Veteran's Day?

Vessel | Morgan Haynes

You walk briskly across campus with your protein drink in hand. The torn muscle shirt on your back does not fit the thirty eight degree weather but it makes you feel more comfortable. You take pride in your image, but unfortunately judge a person's worth by theirs.You workout not for your health, but for your desire to be accepted by others. Your insecurities are noticed mostly through your anxious strides and your overly upright posture. You can never figure out why no matter how much you work on your outter self that empty feeling inside will never go away. You are the middle child and come from a loving home. Your mother adores you and finds no fault in your being; your father, approves of your attempt to go to college however see's more of himself in your brother, the basketball player. You try and try but can never quite measure up to him or his abilites.

vessel | Anthony Luciani

You like punk music and black clothes, especially leather, with metal studs and chains. You have many piercings all over your face and probably a tattoo or three in places that can't be mentioned. "Dulls my inner pain," you might say. You're terribly pale and skinny like you haven't eaten in days. Most likely by choice. You look like you may even become a serial killer or at least be suspected of being one. You have a quesstionable vocabulary but are very smart. You act tough or depressed in public but it's just an act. You could very well be a happy person who likes cool breezes on crisp sunny mornings and going on romantic hikes with your girlfriend as the sun turns the sky purple and orange. You want others to see you and think about how miserable your life must be. Or you just want them to leave you alone. In reallity if your life was that miserable you'd be in a mental ward on constant suicide watch or you'd be taking antidepressants but you're not. Most of all you love your girlfriend.

Vessel | Jan Wilbur

You catch my eye as you are walking towards me, you are a really tall guy, and so skinny dressed all in black including your cap. How did you get into those really tight black jeans? I am not cool enough to know what kind of cap that is, an odd retro baseball type hat, except fuller, rounder and taller pulled way down part way over your ears, your eyes hidden by the brim. Your jet black hair is a little long, about chin length all the way around; you have split it at your ears like mock sideburns. Are you a chimney sweep? You look like you just walked out of Mary Poppins. You are shy and do not have a girl- friend but would like to. You are usually alone as you are now. You live with your parents and just moved here from Hollywood with them. You do not feel like you belong here and do not think there is any hope of ever fitting in. You look like you would get into trouble but it is not true. You don’t smoke or drink or use drugs. You graduated from high school and hope to someday go to college and become an artist so you can paint beautiful water colors or maybe take a writing class so you can express yourself with your art and writing. And then you surprise me, you smile at me as you walk by.

Staci Wilson's story/ Sierra Ehrman

"And then you just hold out your arms, look up to the sky and flap your arms as hard as you can!" Mark said to Alex, his friends little brother.
"Is that true Andy? Can I really fly?" Alex looked up at his older brother with the innocent look of a child being told an amazing revealtion.
"Sure you can, Alex, all you need is two seagul feathers and our two story house!" Alex looked at Mark with a devilish grin on his face. He looked back at his little brother and only saw the back of his head, bobbing in the distance as he ran away.
A few hours passed when Andy heard a knock on his door. He and Mark were in his room playing X-Box challenging each other. "Come in," Andy yelled over the blaring TV.
"Look!" Alex said, bursting into the room with two seagul feathers, one in each hand.
The next thing Andy knew, he was watching his little brother climb out of the second story window and make his way to the top.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Mark," Andy said cautiously, as he watched his little brother step into place on the edge of the roof and slowly lift his arms perpendicular to his body.

Jessica Pierce's story | Kendall Pack

Hey, there goes Hat Boy. First question. What kind of a name for a super villian is Hat Boy? I've been wondering this for the whole span of our friendship. Here at Hill Academy for the Criminally Superb, I was alone until Hat Boy came along. Everyone always made fun of him for having such a stupid, unimaginative name. But I didn't. I thought I could trust him.

"I thought I could trust you." I repeated out loud.

"I bet I'm really sorry somewhere in here." Hat Boy patted his hand over his heart and laughed.

"I didn't want to have to kill the one friend I've had in the 17 years I've been around." I was truly distressed, but had no problem with killing him now.

When a spy arrives, he's got to go. And Hat Boy fit the bill. I had found him in the dorms where we were standing, facing each other now. He was, a few moments earlier, contacting his superiors at the Kingdom. Next question. What kind of a superhero names his base the Kingdom?

Doesn't matter.

My blood was rising and that idiot stood there. I wanted to kill him. And he had to kill me. So, after a short time of deliberation, I lunged in to protect myself for a few more minutes of life. I had to kill him.

Piss on his grave! The chap had a gun. We had always said, a supervillian needs no weapon but his mind. Looks like little Hat Boy forgot that rule. He whipped off three shots in my direction. I dived behind the wall to think and strategize.

Why was he shooting me? Why didn't he use his own powers? The bullets are clumsy, hard to kill with because you can't tell them where to go. But he could have destroyed me like I had seen him do so many times before.

That's when I understood. He was called Hat Boy because of that stupid stovepipe he always wore. Then that's where his power was based. It was quite possibly an amplifier. He was a fool to let me find him without it.

I sprang up and ran around the corner. My leg ran directly into a bullet. But it didn't bother me. One more whizzed by my ear before I was able to catch up to him and throw him down. He was so frightened that I smiled before I punched him. I grabbed the gun from his hand and checked the chamber. One bullet left.

He was struggling to get away, but Hat Boy was pinned down. I put the gun to his temple. He began to beg for his life. I began to pull the trigger.

It clicked three times befor it found the last bullet. Hat Boy was still after that. He wasn't begging and he certainly wasn't fighting. That's all I needed to do to shut him up.