On a fateful night, he asks a wise old man why? And he was told that they are trapped by their own divining. This is not an open road for some who hope to know all the answers to enlightenment. The walls are tall, and we all feel small. The only hope is the internal light, but it cannot be guided without the light beyond the horizon. Well, the traveler sits with this in mind, when with quite a surprise, he says Ive seen this light beyond the horizon. The wise old man looked up with a grin, come again? Ive spent the time open on the road with the horizon as my only guide to guide me through the night. This light exists for all who wish to see and believe it will lead the way to their destination. It can be read in the lord's words, but first it must exist within.

The wise old man was use to giving advice, he had never experienced such a wonderful idea, so he took the time to write it down in his great book of everything there is to know. But then realized his book couldnt be complete as he thought it to be. It seems he missed the most important thing all along. The wise old man was no gull, and somehow understood this light wasnt seen with the eyes, so he asked the traveler when he realized this light shined. The traveler answered after a long pause, and said tonight. He had never known what exactly took him far from home, but always believed the lord was there to guide him. His word cant possibly be the very thing that binds you. For no one would know the trials that brought the lords word into existence if they all stayed home. It is the light threw the darkness that gives our lords words special meaning, and helps us understand where weve been and guides us down the sometimes dark road to our own enlightenment. The wise old man finally looks up with a smile, and says, you know traveler your light is so far from here, but somehow it shines everywhere. Its time to pass this along. Dont worry about the people inside, they will all see this light once they know where to find it. With a realistic sense of caution, they will open their hearts, and start to live by them.

The traveler looked concerned, and asked the wise man if this word would lead them astray on a path like his with no family? The wise old man, wondered for a moment, and said in a delightful voice, it will give those with family strength to do right, and those who are just starting their journey a glimpse toward the light. Duties will have new meaning, and their journey will be of their own making in the image of the lord. It is up to them to find this meaning, to harness their lives for the sake of their children. They will not be afraid again.

That night, the traveler was so well-worn, but could only stare out beyond the horizon toward the place he called home. He once believed the light was guiding his journey through incredible feats, but now he saw the light was within. No matter where he had been, it was up to him to look beyond the horizon to find it. And there was no better place as home to keep his light burning.  So, the next day, although tired, he found the strength to journey back to the place of his true destination.

Heather, 27, Ohio State University -- Newark Campus

The Storm

by Kristen Renae

She slithered out of her jacket like a snake out of its skin. I imagined that the embodiment of every single mental disturbance known to man would look like her. Her shoulder-length black hair lay disheveled against her head with wisps of red and purple crying out for help. She held her hand out and smiled with teeth that shined. I just stood there and watched the metal ring through her lip quiver as she introduced herself. She called herself Joe. All I could do was stare. There had to be some sort of mistake or perhaps a misunderstanding. I guessed she was in the wrong room or the wrong building or even on the wrong planet for that matter. Her full name was Hannah Joe. No last name. She had dropped it over the summer. She felt more independent that way, plus she had two men in her life to call dad, and her mother was working on husband number three. That summer she decided that she couldnt stand the drama of her family any longer, so she applied here to Ohio State University after applying for and receiving several scholarships. Shed been saving for this moment for two years and finally that winter, when the time came, she gleefully packed all of her belongings into a purple duffel bag and a large brown paper thrift store bag, threw them into the back of her white 1995 two-door Honda, and ventured off into uncertainty. This brought her to my doorway on the second floor of the North Campus Apartments. Now, Linda was normal. She was my other roommate. Wed studied together last semester, had long chats about clothes, celebrities, sex, how many boys wed kissed, and all that other normal girl stuff. Linda had fallen behind on her savings, so she found a job as a waitress at some Italian restaurant in downtown Columbus. She worked most evenings, so she was hardly ever around anymore. I was miserable. Our other roommate, Jenny, had transferred to some other state school on some track scholarship. She was messy and somewhat bitchy, but at this moment I missed her more than I thought was possible. Who was this freak that I would have to share the rest of my sophomore year of college with? A month went by, and I didnt have too much of a relationship with my new roommate. She went to classes in the evening and worked during the day. I never asked her where, but I happened to overhear her talking to her mother or somebody on the phone about being a waitress or bartender or something at some upscale gentlemans club. She mustve gotten a bad reaction from the other end of the conversation because she let out a sigh and insisted that she could never be a stripper because she was "too modest and self-conscious". I couldnt help but find this humorous; this tall, skinny, pierced thing was modest? Self conscious? My classes started at eight in the morning and were finished around two in the afternoon. That was around the time that she would come out of her cave, and then she would vanish off to classes around four until around nine or ten in the evening. After that it was straight off to work until two or three in the morning. She also smoked. Every time I actually saw her around she had a cigarette hanging next to that metal in her lip. I even caught her leaning out her window smoking marijuana once. I disapproved, but I figured shed lose her scholarships if she kept this up, so I said nothing. I heard her talking and laughing one night. Id rarely ever seen her smile let alone laugh. But who was she talking to? Mostly she just sat around talking on the phone, and she would occasionally poke her head into my room or sit at the table while I did homework and shed just talk about nothing. She never seemed to have anything relevant or important to say. She would talk about a wreck shed seen on the interstate on her way back to my apartment after work or how she once got bit by ants when she was younger and blew up like a balloon and had to be hospitalized for three days. Why would I care about these things? I would just smile and nod and continue with my work. She didnt have any friends around here that I had ever met. I mean, Id seen her go outside and smoke cigarettes with some of the other students who lived in our apartment building, but they had never actually come inside. Maybe one of her friends from home were visiting, but in the middle of the week? I got up from my studies and strolled to the kitchen to grab a pop. I heard Lindas voice down the hall. What was she doing home at this hour? I stopped outside of the freaks bedroom and watched in shock as she pulled bits of Lindas chin-length brown hair through a plastic cap. They both stopped giggling and turned to look at me.

"Hey, Val. Want highlights?" Linda asked. "Joe here will do them for free. Her sister was in beauty school. She taught her everything she knows."

"Yeah, I have to get to my algebra class here in a bit, but I can do them for you tomorrow. Yours will probably take a while longer since your hair is so long," Hannah said. I didnt respond. I just shook my head.

I asked Valerie, "Shouldnt you be in class right now?"

"Nope, the professors wife went into labor early this morning, so my two oclock class was canceled today," she said.

"We were just talking about the worst sex wed ever had before you came in. Care to join us? You can help me rinse this crap out of my hair when its done because Joe has to get ready for class soon."

I shrugged, declined, and went back to my room. I was miserable. Linda and I used to talk about girl stuff like that. Now she was spending her time off with the oddball, this strange girl who spent all of her free time smoking and writing poetry that she never let anyone read. She said it was her way to vent out her emotions. I told Linda I didnt think it was working very well from the looks of her.

"Oh, relax, will you? Shes just having fun," she said. "I just dont know how she does it. Shes very intelligent and gets good grades, but she is always so calm and never stressing for tests. I wish I could be so laid back. But I work my ass off and study when Im not working, and still I struggle and panic and am barely pulling off Cs in a lot of my classes."

"Maybe you should smoke crack," I said and laughed. It was rude to talk so horribly about this girl I hardly knew and I was aware of it, but Linda grinned, squeezed my arm, and then she was gone again. My mother called again that night, but she usually only calls on Mondays and Thursdays. She wants me to get some sort of job either on or near campus. She thinks I have to have a job to experience what its like being in the real world on my own. I thought she was joking, but she wasnt. I had never had a job before in my life. There was never a need for me to have one. My father was a doctor and my mother was a teacher at a private school. They were hardly ever around growing up; they just sort of threw money at me instead. I was raised by our live-in maid Sylvia. Now all of a sudden they expect so much from me. Im in college trying to get into medical school just like my parents wanted and thats not good enough for them either. Now I have to get a job?

"Where would I go? A grocery store? Please, mother. Im not in college to bag some old hags groceries and wheel them out to her car." I heard thunder and lightning, and I suddenly remembered that there was supposed to be some big storm that night.

"I just think you need something in your life to point you in a positive direction," she said. "You have to get used to waking up and going to work every single morning."

"Thats what school is for. I get up at six oclock every morning to be in class by eight. And what will come of my studies if I have the stress of a job to go along with that? I would rather concentrate on school until I am in medical school and then I will have an internship." I was so angry. What was she thinking?

"Well, the truth is--," she paused. "What Im saying is, your father and I, there are problems. Our marriage is ending, and Im going to need you to help out with some of the bills." Was she crazy? The woman had lost her mind.

"This isnt funny," I said. "You and Dad are the happiest couple I know."

"We never see each other, and when we do theres just stress in both of us that doesnt have anywhere to go but at each other. I just dont want you to be lost, thats all."

She told me that theyd been in the process of getting a divorce finalized since the summer. Was she crying? My mother has never cried a day in her life. I didnt say anything. I let her talk and listened to her go on for nearly an hour. It became apparent that there was no way to rationalize with her at this point in time. So I just told her I would be fine and not to worry about me and, yes, Id get a job somewhere sometime soon. I was angry, but not necessarily at her or anyone in particular for that matter. I was just angry in general at the whole situation, at my whole life. We said goodnight and hung up just after ten oclock. I tried to sleep so that I could go on with another day in eight hours. I dont know how long Id been laying there listening to the rain pound against my window, but it felt like days. All I know is that during all of the crying and shaking and nausea that had overcome me as I lay there I heard someone come in the front door. I squinted to see the clock, but I didnt have my contacts in and my vision was even more blurry from crying. I tried to lay still but I was restless. I heard a cough and a couple of sneezes. Hannah Joe must have gotten home from work, so I guessed it was probably around two in the morning. I heard her running water in the bathroom. She was humming as she brushed her teeth. She flushed the toilet and blew her nose. I laid there listening to her for a little while, then the light disappeared from under my bedroom door. She mustve gone to her room. I got up to use the bathroom. After washing my hands I looked up at myself in the mirror. There is no earthly way I would make it to class in the morning. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot. I splashed water onto my face and blotted it with the lavender hand towel that hung on the wall. I went into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. The next thing I knew she was standing right next to me at the refrigerator.

"Youre up late," she said. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is wrong. My life is falling apart."

I dont know why I answered her, maybe I was deliriously tired. I told her everything, and she listened. She lit up a joint during our conversation. I hadnt even noticed until she offered it to me. I shook my head, and she shrugged and took another drag. A few minutes later she stuck it in my face again in offering, and this time I took it. I followed her into her bedroom where she put some mellow music on really low. I had never noticed how cozy her room was. She had posters and pictures all over the walls with candles arranged all over the place. Her bookshelf was filled with various sizes of notebooks, at least fifty of them. Her little gray television set was playing some late night movie channel but the volume was off. She sat on a little red furry chair and I sat on her bed, which was littered with dolls and stuffed animals on top of purple sheets and a black quilt. She opened a tiny bottle of aspirin and popped a couple into her mouth. I couldnt believe how clean and fascinating her room was. She lit two sticks of incense on the window sill and cracked the window open a little bit. She sat down on a black beanbag chair on the floor near the window and lit a cigarette. I sat there stoned out of my mind for the first time. I felt weird being there with her. She asked me if Id ever done acid. I just gave her a blank stare and shook my head. She got up and grabbed the tiny bottle of aspirin off the dresser again and told me to try it. It was acid. She gave me one, and I realized that she had taken two of these gel pills earlier. I figured one would be safe, so I nervously drank it down with the last of my orange juice. I leaned back on the bed and closed my eyes, letting the music lift me out of my body for a little while. Joe told me about her parents. Her mom was a paramedic, her dad worked as a glue technician where he makes the sticky backs to diaper tabs and stickers and other such things as that. Her stepfather was an out-of-work drunk and her mothers new boyfriend was a security guard at the airport. She assured me that divorce isnt that big of a deal. She told me my dad would still be there for me and that wed still have a normal father and daughter relationship. She had never been out of state. In fact, she had never even been on an airplane before. Shed always wanted to go to Europe. I had been there a few times throughout my life, so I told her all about. I even went and grabbed some pictures of me with my parents in front of some old historical buildings and the Eiffel tower. I was young and had never noticed how hideously my mother had dressed me back then. At that moment I wished more than anything to be back there in this foreign land so young and so freely innocent. Joe asked me if I had any brothers or sisters, and I shook my head no. I was an only child. She accused me of being spoiled and cracked some jokes about it.

"I have two brothers and a sister, well, had," she said. "My older sister Sara was four years older than me. She went to beauty school for two years and got her license. She would be twenty-two in April."

"What happened to her?" I asked in a low voice, my heart racing. She looked up at me.

I had never noticed before, but she had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen. They were as blue as a porcelain dolls eyes, and they were burning a hole right through me. This didnt seem real, none of this. I had to be dreaming this whole conversation. Then she lowered her head again and began to nervously pick at the stale beige carpet in front of her.

"Sara and my younger brother died two years ago in a car accident. It was the middle of winter, and she was taking my half brother Henry to school on her way to work. There was a big pile-up on the highway, and they were right in the middle of it. There had been a sudden ice storm the night before. There was just so much ice and snow. Henry was only ten. They both died instantly. It was horrible, they were all I had, the only family members who were there for me to talk to about anything. Thats when I decided I had to get away from the drama and do something on my own, do something with my life."

"Is that why you turned to drugs?" I asked. I couldnt believe I had something so blatantly stupid, but she didnt seem to mind. She just shrugged and shook her head.

"No, there has always been pot around me my whole life. My mom would smoke up with me and Sara all the time since I was about twelve. There was always alcohol, and my parents even used to use heroin before I was born. So, no, thats not even the issue. My other half brother is five now. His names Scotty." She coughed, lit another cigarette, and continued. "I just had to do something positive with my life. I cant explain it. They say that tragedy can bring lead to strange behavior and sometimes even positive change, and I totally believe that."

She told me all about her family life growing up and that shed been working since she was fifteen. She told me how alone she felt and how her whole world fell apart when her brother and sister died. I understood where she was coming from, and it gave me a little spark of hope. Then Joe got up, went over to her bookshelf, and grabbed two notebooks off of the shelf. She handed them to me.

"I couldnt possibly," I said as I started to hand them back to her. "I overheard you tell Linda awhile back that you never let anyone read your writing because its your personal way of releasing your emotions and feelings." She pushed them back into my head and smiled.