By Katharine Batista

Amidst organically shaped lawns, perfectly round holiday decorations, and kites flying through vibrant summer parties, there’s a small oval shaped yard filled with perfect children, all under the age of nine. 

But when the spherical lights went out at ten, everyone went back to their rectangular prisms they saw as home.

And an organic blob rose from its secluded hiding place—maybe it just wanted to play manhunt too. It used to come into my home and haunt the people that resembled family and friends. 

The dark unrecognizable organic figure who stood before me was a figment of my deepest fears. I did not know what night terrors were, but these dreams haunt me every waking moment. 

I told myself they were not terrifying. 

I was welcomed into an inorganic world that was not my own. Not full of surprises, deprived of life. These ethereal monsters invited me to play in circles, melodically laugh, and sing. Its world, although fictional, was filled with picture perfect creatures that swallowed me into their own euphoria. 

I wished my world was theirs.

Until I didn’t. 

My heart leaping beyond its bounds, my chest caving in on the only thing it has ever known. Yet again. 

How could such a magical world in which I had a deep infatuation for, be so wicked. Soon the sun would settle on suburbia, on the one inch grass lawns, and pristine backyard poolsides. 

No longer would I be in my state of perpetual solitude.

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Katharine (Kate) Batista (she/her) ‘28 is an applied data analytics major with a minor in design studies. She found her passion for data analytics through a computer science research class during her senior year of high school. Her hobbies outside of school include watching Gilmore Girls, playing frisbee, and celebrating her friends’ birthdays.