Quote
Great Teacher Onizuka
“If you don’t like the hand that fate’s dealt you with, fight for a new one.” — Eikichi Onizuka
The hallway was cold,
the kind of cold that seeped through the soles
of Klaus’s sneakers and crept up their spine. Orange tiles stretched long and unwelcoming beneath their feet, the dim light from the bare bulb overhead casting their shadow against the walls. It smelled of metal and earth—of the garage’s rusted tools and the dirt their mother tracked in from the farm. The hallway always felt too long, as if the steps between the front door and the apartment stretched when they weren’t looking.
Klaus rolled their shoulders, adjusting the weight of their backpack. They had walked home from school, earbuds in, hood up, taking the long way past the empty lot where wildflowers had begun to bloom between cracks in the pavement. The air had smelled of spring, of renewal, but here, in this house, the season never changed. It was always the same heavy air, thick with unspoken things.
They knew, even before stepping inside, that she was waiting.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the kitchen swallowed them whole.
Their mother stood by the sink, back to the door, shoulders tight, a dishcloth clenched in her fist. The small kitchen, the heart of their cramped apartment, felt even smaller with her presence. The olive-green countertops were cluttered with remnants of the afternoon—a cutting board slick with tomato juice, a knife resting beside it, eggs stacked in cartons near the back door, waiting to be sold. The stove hummed with the lingering heat of dinner preparations, though the air smelled more of tension than food.
Klaus set their backpack down by the chair, but before they could even exhale, the words came.
"As tuas notas chegaram."
They felt the pulse of those words before they registered them, a sharp edge slicing through the space between them.
Klaus didn’t respond.
Their mother turned, dark eyes piercing, scanning them the way she always did, searching for something she never seemed to find.
“Dois Cs, Klaus?” Her voice was tight, a thread pulled too thin. “Queres matar-me de vergonha?”
Respirar | Screenplay
*currently under revisions*
Fresh out of the hospital, Paxton seeks rest at a remote Colorado cabin owned by Callum’s late great grandmother. But their post-surgical recovery is interrupted by something far more sinister. The discovery of an ancient book awakens O Juracuco, a wind-bound demon born from Taíno and Portuguese spiritual conflict. As the wind howls and the walls close in, tensions between friends deepen. The possession doesn’t just threaten their lives—it mirrors their deepest fears about identity, legacy, and belonging. Respirar is a body horror tale where gender dysphoria and cultural shame take a terrifying, literal form.
LOOKBOOK
Breathe in the vision:
Breathing Through Fear: August J. Soto’s Transcendent Body Horror “Respirar”
Last Sweet Thing | Nonfiction Flash
OPENING:
I stood in the parking lot with the empty ice cream cup folded in on itself, like it had given up acknowledging its purpose. The orange soda bottle was still cold in my hand, half-empty and too bright. It looked ridiculous in that place, like summer had wandered into the wrong story and did not know how to leave. I kept thinking about how she said Luci with her hand pressed to her chest, not like she was introducing herself, but like she was checking to see if anyone had saved her name for her.
Stage Play
Don’t Wake the House: Two is Easy
Cast of Characters
Calista “Cal”: A mid-twenties Foley artist trying to bring both partners into her parents’ house without losing the familial love she still needs.
Spencer: One of Cal’s partners. She is funny, warm, charming, watchful, and tired of being made into this version of love that is easier for the room to digest. She’d rather it chokes on her.
Cyde: One of Cal’s partners. She is bright, direct, avoidant of confrontation, and dressed for dinner. Despite this, she is unwilling to be treated like a guest in her own relationship. She just does not know how to protect herself like how’d she would her partners.
Mãe: Cal’s mother. She is a Portuguese American, loving, spiritual, practical, and skilled in making discomfort and passive aggressive behavior come across polite.
Pai: Cal’s father. He is Portuguese American, goofy, hungry, and just wants his daughter to be happy.
LOOKBOOK
Flash Fiction
Sleepless Spring
OPENING:
The rocks arrived before the sickness. Smooth, river-washed stones in shades of ivory and slate, waiting in heaped mounds along the driveway. Andreia had planned to spend her spring arranging them, pressing her hands into the soil, feeling the warmth of the earth as she sculpted her garden into something alive. She had imagined long afternoons with dirt beneath her fingernails, the scent of crushed basil and rosemary clinging to her skin. It was the way her father, Vo Quim, had taught her—to work until the world softened. To believe that if your hands were busy enough, grief would leave you alone. She had pictured Carmo beside her, rolling their eyes as she talked about the poetry of gardening, of placing each stone with intention, of giving the earth a reason to remember them.
Screenplay
Last Sweet Thing
FADE IN:
EXT. CARE FACILITY PARKING LOT - LATE AFTERNOON
A low memory care building sits beneath a fading South Carolina sky. A few windows glow early. AUGUST, late twenties, sits in a parked car with the engine off. Short hair. Clean shirt. One hand on the steering wheel, one hand wrapped around a bottle of ORANGE SODA. The bottle label is damp. August rubs one thumb across it until the paper begins to peel.
On the passenger seat: a paper cup of VANILLA ICE CREAM in a plastic bag. A spoon. A folded napkin. A phone sits in the cup holder. The map app is still open. The route line runs from South Carolina to the care facility.
August looks at the entrance. They check their reflection in the rearview mirror. Touch the back of their haircut.
AUGUST
Hi, Abuela.
August listens to the sound of the words inside the quiet car.
AUGUST (CONT'D)
It's me.
They swallow. Try again.
AUGUST (CONT'D)
I'm August.
They hold the words in their mouth. Then open the car door.
Content Writer
Centerway Behavior Health
A psychiatric clinic located in Charleston, SC.