Virge Volume 3 Issue 1 by Florida Virtual School

VIRGE ONCE UPON A TIME

The Virtual Edge Florida Virtual School Literary Magazine

Fall 2013

able of Page(s) Abby Douglas 71, 103 Abby Douglas 71, 103 Abigail T. Perry 70 Abigail T. Perry 70 Addison Fluegge 96, 110, 111 Addison Fluegge 96, 110, 111 Adrian Salgado 98 Adrian Salgado22 98 Adrianna Baldwin Adrianna Baldwin 22 Alexa 40, 99 Alexa 40, 99 Alexander Yu 99 Alexander Alexandra Riker Yu 20, 36, 97 99 Alexandra 20, 36, 97 Amanda Bossle Riker55 Amanda Bossle25 55 Amber Wallace Amber Wallace 25 Amelia Persad 113 Amelia Persad 113 Ana Lynch 34, 86, 115 AnaFrias Lynch 34, 86, 115 Anaregina 9, 72 Anaregina Frias 9, Andrea Rivera Mercado 71, 8272 Rivera 16 Mercado 71, 82 AngelicaAndrea Gosine Angelica Gosine 16 Ariel Trachtenberg 125 Ariel Trachtenberg Austin Williams 53, 65, 81 125 Austin Williams69, 75, 78 53, 65, 81 Bayan Al-Badarneh Bayan 134 Al-Badarneh 69, 75, 78 Brinia Leroy Leroy 131 134 Brittney Brinia Waldrop Brittney Waldrop 131 Brooke Lyonnais 43, 85 Brooke Lyonnais 43, 85 Brooke Turner 79 Brooke36, Turner 79 Bryce King 114 Bryce King Cailey Weaver 73, 80, 10136, 114 CaileyArnold Weaver 47, 134 73, 80, 101 Caleb Blane Caleb Blane Arnold 47, 134 Calysta Bobinski 123 123 Carlisle Calysta Ziesig Bobinski 73 Ziesig 39, 46, 65 73 CarolineCarlisle Ignace Caroline 39, 46, 65 Caylee Stout 54Ignace Caylee Stout 54 Cecilia 118 Cecilia Christina Alex 11, 22, 23 118 Alex 29 11, 22, 23 ChristinaChristina Hughey 29 ChristineChristina Casey Hughey 10 Christine Casey 10 Clare Hernandez 62 Claudia Clare RoseHernandez Davidson 120 62 Claudia Rose 120 Cristi McKee 12, 76Davidson McKee 107, 109, 119 12, 76 Cristina Cristi Infante Cristina38 Infante 107, 109, 119 Damel Berry Daniela Marti 35 Daniella Welton 46, 108

ontents Damel Berry Daniela Marti Daniella Welton Delaney McGovern Demond Byrd Dominique Yatchum Emily Emily Cowert Emily Guzik Emily Hinton Emily Jatczak Emily Laurent Emma Popkin Erica Chyr Erika Wright Freddy Viera Gabrielle Baco Grace C. Grace N. Haley Ignace Hana Obissi Hannah Hansen Hannah Oliver Haylee Hayley Garron Helena Jossette Robinson Hunter Hoover-Watson Hyun Jee Isabella Isabella Shanks Isabella Wagner Jada Jasmine M. Duckworth Jessica Olivier

38 35 46, 108 19 19 54, 74, 113 41 28 123 65 95 44, 47, 135 cover 94 74, 126 130 14 41 112 84, 100 96 84, 116, 121 54 8 117, 122 44, 136 127 56, 125 26 18 59, 105, 124 100, 124 102, 135 14, 38, 132

Jessica Youngblood Jewelisia Fagg Jordan Bullock Jordan Hamilton Joshua Bishop Julia Velasquez Justin Coopernurse Kaitlyn Colon Kara Friers Kate Elizabeth LaDue Kathleen Avellan Kathlyn Alexis Kayleigh Rubin Kayli Sieber Kelly Ann Jennings Kenneth D. Griffiths, Jr. Kinsey Stubbs Krista Smith Kyandreia Jones Kyra Bauske Laura Poots Laura Tucker Lily Dickinson Lindsey Sanders Lorraine Keenan Manar Al-Badarneh Marie Woolley Mary Britton Mary Katherine Collins Maygan Flood Megan Megan Kincaid Megan Mcmillen Michelle Beadle Michelle Poprawski Michelle Tran

51, 77 122 98, 137 128 24 114 118 50, 114, 131 89 7, 48 27 94, 131 97 11, 73 6 75 50 28, 71 133 21 111 72, 79 18 133 31, 70, 77 42, 68, 84 116 17, 73 90 16, 54, 64 49 105, 115, 121, 127 70 47, 86 60 106

Mikalia Cassidy Flood Moira Conley Molly Sheets Natalie Stubbs Natasha Nathan Perdomo Parker Gentry Rebecca George Rebecca Raymer Ruthi Sabrina Samantha Morris Samantha Stanworth Santiago Rodriguez Sarah Sarah Gedamke Savannah Driskell Shanice Archer Shazia Nadeem Sidney Rose McCall Skylar Signorelli Skyler Klokus Sofia Sablon Stephanie Castro Stephanie Maciel Stephany Porter Taylor Taylor Ramirez Tori Hines Trinity Irwin Veronica Torres Vida Svahnstrom Wyatt Johnson Zachary Player Zane Yurecka

5, 19, 116 58, 83 31, 125 62 52 45, 57 130 66 20, 86 60 88 83 43, 76, 87 115, 130, 136 6, 15, 110 78 104, 117, 129 92, 116 91, 130 112 8 71 10 104 7, 13, 101 46 9 15 56 71, 132 93 126 16 108 21

Of Castles and Kings

Credits

1 Once Upon a Time

Cover Photo: “Through the Looking Glass.” Emma Popkin, Grade 11 Virge Student Editorial Staff: Ariadna Calveira Chloe Chan Talia Fradkin Cerianna Glasper Jordan Hamilton Alejandra Martinez Amy Matton Alexandria Medico Samantha Morris Erica Nathan Delany Peshek Virge Advisor: Mrs. Cindy Knoblauch

Graphics Credit: Public Domain Images from Pixabay, publicdomainpictures.net, wikimedia commons, and clker.com Virge is a publication created by the literary magazine students at Florida Virtual School. Poetry, prose, artwork, and photography are submitted by FLVS students. The Virge staff reserves the right to deny publication to submissions that are deemed inappropriate or do not fit the theme of the magazine issue. The works presented in this magazine are the creative expression of FLVS students and do not necessarily reflect those of Florida Virtual School.

“In a Faraway Land.” Mikalia Flood, Grade 9

Once upon a time, There were lyrics on a paper. Nobody could hear her; She sang her heart out to the rhythm. One day as she was singing, She heard an ear-splitting noise; A profusion of people outside her door Applauding to her lovely voice. Everyone had loved her melodic voice, So she made her toughest choice. She couldn’t sing in front of people, But music was her world.

Tons of fans surrounding her That had heard from outside her door, She chose to show the world her gift And sing a little song.

“Singing.” Haylee, Grade 6

She sang and sung and twirled and spun; She was happy she’d fought her fear Of singing in a public place. Who knew a girl as quiet as her would have such a powerful, moving voice.

Quiet Girl With a Big Voice Skylar Signorelli, Grade 9

“Princess Sophia.” Taylor, Grade 9

In a kingdom, far away, A little princess lived happily. She liked to dance and play, And she loved her family. Her father was a king, Who ruled over the land. And her mother was queen, Who wasn’t afraid to make a stand. Not everything in this Kingdom was good. A dragon lived, not too far away. The danger, everyone understood. The kingdom soon turned to gray.

The dragon wreaked havoc on the kingdom. No one even dared to fight him. The citizens pleaded for freedom. Their chances for survival were very thin, But their love was pure.

The dragon gave up. He decided to take the princess instead. The dragon picked up his lucky cup, And put in a concoction, So the princess would be dead.

The queen could not lose this fight; The king allowed her to go alone. The queen struck her sword into The dragon with great might. As the pain swelled, The dragon began to groan. In the dragon’s final moments, He wept and pleaded for forgiveness. He crushed his lucky cup, hopeless. His depression soon became a sickness. The princess would not let this happen. She whipped up a potion. She gave the dragon this potion, Who was embattled. The dragon perked up, And soon had motion. "Thank you!" he cried with such joy, "You have healed me. The kingdom I now will enjoy, And protect this kingdom with all my glee." THE END. And they lived forever happily.

“True Dragon Warrior.” Sofia Sablon, Grade 9

“Fairy Tale.” Christina Alex, Grade 11

Cristi McKee, Grade 8

“The Stories in Her Head.” Stephanie Maciel, Grade 11

“The Grey Wizard.” Maygan Flood, Grade 12

“A Very Important Date.” Mary Britton, Grade 10

“Fantasy Dragon.” Wyatt Johnson, Grade 2

“The Dragon of the Fairy World.” Angelica Gosine, Grade 10

Durin’s Day

Mikalia Cassidy Flood, Grade 9

Lily Dickinson, Grade 10

I had such love of literature, Of songs and tales and rhymes, Of Brothers Grimm, And Tiny Tim, And Once Upon a Times, That when I could, I surely did, Eat books for food instead, I ate the words, I ate the tales, Of authors long since dead. Then I grew big, And I grew strong, With words for skin and bones, “ With muscles made of sonnets, A story for a nose. But all around the world was sad, All the world felt beaten; Though I was full with many words, All the books were eaten. So I had all the stories, The songs, the tales, the rhymes, And no one else could read them, I had them all the time. And time again, And time again, They’d come to hear the books, That soon my voice was raspy, From reciting what I’d took. So with no regrets, I breathed them out, Into the open air, For that’s where all the books should be, Where all of us can share.

World was fair, Mountains tall, Before the fall Of mighty kings, Now beyond, Passed away World was Fair in Durin’s day.

Hammer smote, chisel clove, Forged was blade, bound was hilt, Delver mined, mason built. Metal wrought like fishes’ mail Corselet, sword, Shining spears Laid in hoard.

King on carven throne Of golden power, Light Of star, moon, crystal, Undimmed Ever fair And bright.

Unwearied folk Beneath mountains Woke. Harpers harped Minstrels sang At the gates Trumpets rang. World grey, Mountains cold Forge’s fire Ashen-cold.

“Story Time.” Isabella Shanks, Grade 8

“Once Upon a Time.” Demond Byrd, Grade 11

Inspired by J.R.R Tolkien.

“Once Possibly.” Delaney McGovern, Grade 10

I Ate the Words

The Great Warrior

Zane Yurecka, Grade 10

Of the great warrior, the choir sings. Through mountains, his battle cry rings. The most powerful army, he always brings. All the battle moves, he can see. At his sight, the enemy will flee. That great warrior, he is me.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;The God of Mischief.â&#x20AC;? Kyra Bauske, Grade 12

Meant to Be Adrianna Baldwin, Grade 7

Now in the present, Shining was avoiding dogs again. Anna tried her hardest to stay on her. Shining reared. Anna felt her back hit the hard ground below. She thought,‘’What is going to happen here?’’ Suddenly, another dog jumped out of the bushes.

As she rode her horse, Shining, in the cool rippling water, Anna Brooker wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. Her other horse, Freedom, had just dropped a healthy colt, and she was in the process of making a name for him. Her friend’s stallion was in need of training, and she was going the next day to help. She wondered if he would be an easy-goer or a harder one to train. Freedom was hard to train and still had occasional problems. “Okay, time to be getting home,’’ she said. Suddenly, she heard something in the bushes up ahead. Out of nowhere, a pack of stray dogs jumped from the bushes. There were more than five but less than ten. At that moment, Anna was too scared to count properly. In her mind, she knew there were only three things Shining was afraid of: knives, tight spaces, and dogs. Shining had been saved from a slaughterhouse, where they took horses and foals. All the horses were bunched up in a tiny pen together. They would be lined up for the horror to happen. Each animal would be tied up, and their throats would be cut. They would be left to bleed to death. Mares saw it happen to their foals. Foals saw it happen to their mothers. Stallions saw it happen to their mates. With Shining, it was her first foal, a gorgeous palomino filly. One worker saw Shining, at that time she was No. Number 236, and fell in love with her. He had an idea. His job was to take the sick horses out of the line so that there was no bad meat sold. The sick ones were killed later and used in pet food. He acted like he was doing his job and took ‘’sick’' Number 236 out of the line. He headed toward the sick house where there was an old saddle. He tossed it on her and hopped on. Number 236 grieved for her foal, but somehow she knew that this strange man was going to help her. As they rode off, guard dogs were sent after them, and they had to keep running. She was sent to a local animal shelter and was soon where she was adopted by Anna.

‘’Oh great!’’ she thought, ‘’Just what we need.’’ Anna thought about all the people that would miss her. Her mother, Mary Brooker, her brother, George Brooker, who was a squirt sometimes but he was still her brother, and her father, Jim Brooker and of course her pets. Freedom, the unnamed colt, Comet her stallion, her cat Pocahontas, and her two piglets, Teddy and Charlie. If she got through this mess without two broken legs, she would run to each one and give them all a hug, but she noticed something about the last dog. She was clearly a purebred, a strong-built Pit Bull, and what was that around her neck? A collar! This dog was actually Lightning Lisa, one of the most famous dog heroes in the world. She loved humans more than anything else in the world, and when she saw that group of dogs attacking a human, and whatever that huge thing was, it made her angry! Suddenly the dog charged at the group and chased the dogs away! ‘’WHAT?’’ Anna thought. "I thought she was going to kill us!’’ Very slowly, Anna started to get up, watching this strange dog the whole time. Out of nowhere it lunged at her and started licking her! So Anna got up and mounted Shining. As she started to ride off, she looked down and stared down at the most pitiful, sad eyes she had ever seen on a dog. “All right,” she said, as she picked up the dog. As they rode towards home, she looked down at the dog and said, “You know what? I think you and I meeting each other was meant to be.”

Epilogue

Anna kept the dog, named Moxey, and she now has a litter of three healthy puppies. She has a happy life with her mom, dad, brother, and pets. The foal is now a healthy, happy yearling. He has officially been named Spirit of the Wind. “A Little Girl’s Dream.” Christina Alex, Grade 11

“Cinderella’s Carriage.” Christina Alex, Grade 11

Hannah and Steve Joshua Bishop, Grade 6

Chapter 1: The Adventure Once upon a time, there was a man named Steve who was strong and proud of whatever he did. One warm sunny day, with the birds chirping and the bees buzzing, Steve noticed a beautiful woman named Hannah. She wore a bright green jacket, a bright green skirt, and had long red hair. Steve walked over to her and introduced himself. They talked a little bit and then said their goodbyes. One day Hannah came over to Steve’s house. Little did he know that Hannah was a very adventurous girl. She knocked on the door and Steve opened it. “Oh. Hello Hannah!” Steve said in a pleasant tone. “We have known each other for a week now,” said Hannah. “So I came to ask you if you would like to go on an adventure.” Steve said yes, and explored amazing things; villages, abandoned mine-shafts, desert and a jungle temple. But the temple had a very strange portal made of obsidian. “Do we go in?” Steve asked. ”You only live once, right?” Chapter 2: Descent into Hell “What is this place?” Hannah asked “Looks like Hell itself.” Steve and Hannah walked around until they noticed somewhat of a fortress. For their safety, Steve found two stone swords. Soon, they noticed another obsidian portal, and they were nowhere near the outside of the temple. Chapter 3: The End is Near Through the portal was a square room of stone bricks. In the middle was “The legendary portal to the end realm!” Hannah exclaimed. “What’s the end realm?” Steve responded, “The end realm is the palace of the one and only dragon, Pure Black. If you fall off the edge...let’s just say it’s a long way down.” They both jumped in at the same time. When they reached the other side, the sky was pure black and they were standing on white stone. But the portal was not there; they questioned themselves many times. But what also caught their eye was a cave with torches still lit as if someone were there. Inside the cave was the lost armor of the gods; anyone who wore it would be nearly immortal, but every day you wore it, it would take two days off the end of your life. It was known as the Oracle. “We need this armor to defeat the dragon.” Hannah explained. “Hannah and Steve.” Joshua Bishop, Grade 6 “Indeed,” said Steve. But their swords were so powerful that it took only two hits before the dragon was gone and the portal made of bedrock appeared. “Okay, let’s head hea..” Steve was interrupted by a kiss from Hannah. “Say nothing else.” And they lived happily ever after!

Once Upon a Daydream The knight walked up to the dragon with a haughty sniff. "Thou shall savor the bitter taste of death!" she called out to the monster. The mighty beast blew a puff of smoke through his nostrils then charged at her. The knight stood firm to the ground. No big deal, she thought. Just another extinct lizard. Raising her sword and shield, she raced to meet the dragon. A cool zephyr rushed through her hair, making adrenaline course through her veins. Inching closer to the dragon, she grinned and leapt in the air. Falling through the air, she brought her hands forward and-"MELANIE!" The girl popped up, raising her hand into the air. "24!" she shouted. The surrounding students snickered at her awakening. Embarrassed, Melanie shyly lowered her hand. She shrunk into her large white sweater as she met the teacher's cold gaze. With a tsk, the teacher went back to scribbling another equation on the whiteboard. "Once again, Melanie, you fall prey to the temptation of sleeping. You know what results from daydreaming." "Yes ma'am. It won't happen again," Melanie cut in. The teacher smiled in response, showing her crooked dentures. "You learn from your mistakes rather quickly. But I must warn you, young lady. Falling asleep can result in something awful," she continued, pointing to the door. "Yes ma'am." Once the teacher turned her back, she slumped in her chair. She forced back a yawn, being cautious of the mentor's ears that only made her eyelids heavier. Other classmates empathized with her. There was no way to bring change to a stubborn mind. Melanie looked out the window on her right, envying the birds' freedom to roam wherever they wanted. Ignoring the lecture, she tore out a piece of notebook paper. With a carefree attitude, she began to draw. ~~~~~~ The bell terminating 7th period rang with the students' joyful voices chorusing through the hallways. There was much jostling and papers twirled in the air. Melanie weaved through the swarm of bodies, clutching her books tightly to her chest. Stepping out into the bright sun, she breathed in the sweet scent of fall. The day is over. With that fact, she hurried to the bicycle rack. The incoming breeze made her glide on her heels. Snatching the scrunchie from her ponytail, her hair flew free. Leaves brushed past her face. Strapping on her bike helmet and knee pads, she took off for the next destination. ~~~~~~ "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the Joust in honor of Our Majesties King Aaron and Lady Aerith!" the announcer bellowed.

"Lady Mel, I strongly advise that you consider life. This sport is only for fools, who die for nonsensical things," the servant said as she helped Lady Mel with her armor. "Don't be silly. I just want to have fun," Melanie grinned. "And I have a reason to participate. To show the others who I am. That I'm not just a weakling, but rather an important person."

When she came home, the first thing she did was to open her sketchpad. She spared a few minutes of her study time to give a light reference to her mother and father. Her mom, she heard, had light skin and copper eyes. Her father, on the other hand, had a grizzly beard and a bulky stature. In a rush, she executed charcoal stick figures wearing crowns, one tall, but grizzly with a red cape, and another that was smaller, but fairer in the face. She dressed her in traditional armor, while mounted on her noble steed.

The servant rolled her eyes. She took a silver sword off the weapon rack and gave it to her. "Never forget your motive, Lady Mel, and you shall win."

After she finished, she tore out the page and put it on her wall alongside her other masterpieces. They all illustrated her medieval dream world, pouring out her heart and soul’s contents.

With that, Melanie mounted her dark, noble steed. Sword and shield at arms, she prepared herself for the battle to begin. Her servant opened the door to reveal her opponent waiting on the other side. He was tall in stature, glaring at her with icy blue eyes. Melanie shook off any fear remaining and made her horse trot to the center of the field to greet him.

Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she thought about her struggle. She struggled to live with her solitary life as a normal girl. Then, she grinned, continuing her thinking. As a knight, she would triumph over the struggles of life. Her daydreams would never cease to exist as long as she lived. They were her gateway to happiness. Once upon a daydream, she strove to live her life.

They glared at each other with hostility. “Prepare to lose,” the dark knight growled.

She kicked off her shoes, prepared for another day, and went to sleep in her royal chambers.

“In your dreams,” she hissed back. “Champions, on your mark, get set, go!” The riders pulled back the reins of their horses. “Ya!” Melanie shouted, kicking at the air. With a neigh, the stallion stood on its hind legs and charged at the opponent.

~~~~~~ “Excuse me, but isn’t it our turn to cross?”

Looking down, she smiled at the little schoolboy tugging at her cardigan. “Why, yes it is,” she replied. The crossing guard gestured with his hands to move at a faster pace. The boy’s mother gave her a placid smile, took his hand and rushed to the other side. Melanie plaintively sighed as she rode slowly alongside the families and their children. She envied what they had--a family. Taken under her grandmother’s wings, she never experienced the comfort coming from a close relative. She tried hard to access those emotions through her wanderings, but never came close to the real world. ~~~~~~

“The Castle.” Isabella, Grade 7 “The Castle.” Isabella, Grade 7

“The Princess and the Prince.” Kathleen Avellan, Grade 11

“The Lost Princess.” Krista Smith, Grade 6

"Where are the children going?” she asked. The king sighed, hoping he could skip this until after the children went to bed. “I seem to have made a mistake in bargaining a few things and the girls must leave for a while.” he informed his wife, hoping she would understand. The queen simply stood there, looking in shock and horror at her daughters. What would become of them? She didn’t speak until the children went to bed. “What were you thinking? Gambling like that!” she shouted at her husband. He sighed. “I know, I know. I didn’t mean to, but it was the alcohol talking, dearest.”

Emily Cowert, Grade 9

The queen let out an irritated sigh. “It’s always the alcohol talking, isn’t it?” she questioned. He didn't reply, much to her dismay. She let out another exasperated breath and went to tell the three girls goodnight. Viola was tucking Marcella in bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead before looking up at her mother. Rosalina approached the queen with a calm smile and asked why she came up at this hour. The queen told Rosalina and Viola that they needed to pack their things and leave with Marcella before morning came. The eldest questioned why, to which the queen responded that their father was using them to pay his debt to a few men at the pub. Viola gasped. She told her mother that their father would never do that, and that even if he did, they would understand his method of dealing. The queen exhaled in defeat. She then went to Marcella’s bedside and shook her from sleep. The little girl groaned groggily, opening her blue eyes slowly.

Once upon a time, there lived three beautiful young girls named Rosalina, Viola, and Marcella. They lived with their mother, the queen, and their stepfather, the noble king, in the kingdom of Nova Hollow. Nova Hollow was in a time of peacefulness and tranquility, or at least that’s what the king insisted. Truthfully, the “restfulness” of Nova Hollow was all a charade to make sure the commoners didn't fret over what was really happening. It seemed the king had gotten himself into what you might call a bit of “gambling trouble." In his old age, he wanted a sense of thrill and adventure, so he decided to play a game of Jack with a couple of shady fellows at the nearest pub. He may have been too drunk to bid, and alas, he was a couple thousand pounds of gold over his head and told the thugs he couldn't pay for it. The men decided to compromise with the king, and said that if they could have his daughters, they’d back off for now.

“M-Mommy?” Marcella questioned, wondering why her mother woke her from her pleasant rest. The queen looked down at her youngest child with sad eyes. “Marcella, I want you to listen to mommy, okay?” she asked. Marcella nodded rubbing her eyes. “Your father seems to have made a mistake with his money again,” she started. “Marcella, all you have to do is run, okay? Don’t think, just run.”

Appalled by the thought of giving up his girls, the king refused before realizing just how ruthless these thugs really were. They threatened that if he didn't compromise, the whole kingdom would fall victim to their tyranny. Not seeing another way out, he agreed reluctantly to let them take his children the next day. He went home, fearing for his daughters and his kingdom. How would he tell his family? His wife would surely protest, even if it were for the good of the kingdom. Rosalina and Viola would at least trust that he knew what he was doing, or so he hoped. Marcella was in her own little world, so leaving her with the other two would be safest for her.

The short haired blonde squinted at her mother in confusion. “B-But-“

Later that night, he called a family meeting and told the girls that they would be going away for some time while “daddy” did business. The queen gave her husband a concerned look. “Red and Wolf.” Christina Hughey, Grade 12

The Pomegranate Molly Sheets, Grade 8

“Quickly Marcella. Come, before your sisters return from the lavatory.” She urged the little girl to get out of bed and put on a dress from her wardrobe. Marcella quickly complied with her mother’s wishes, putting on a plain turquoise dress with a white square embroidered on the skirt. She put on black shoes and was handed a pack her mother had made for her. “Come now, Marcy. It’s time for you to leave. I think your sisters are coming back,” her mother warned. Marcella quickly descended the stairs of the huge castle under her mother’s guidance. They rushed out the back door, and once they get close enough to the woods near the back of the castle, the queen stopped. “Good luck, Marcella. Your mother loves you,” she said as she hugged her daughter and kissed her on the cheek. Marcella frowned, a few tears rushing down her face. “Mother, I’m scared,” she whimpered, wiping a few tears away. Her mother patted her head and handed her a locket. “Keep this in your pack and it will remind you of me. Now, go my child, run!” She gave Marcella a little nudge, and the young girl took off into the forest without looking back. She ran and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her until she stumbled upon a rickety, abandoned house in the middle of the woods. By this time, it was nearly morning and the poor girl was almost too tired to carry herself up the tiny house's steps . She rubbed the beaded sweat off her forehead as she went through the door-less frame. The house was a complete mess, with leaves and twigs all over the floor. The floorboard was made of crooked, broken wood planks that were probably not the safest thing to walk on. There was a small bed that was pushed up against the farthest corner on the house's right hand side. There was also a book shelf facing the bed on the opposite side of the room and a toy box, too. Marcella began to smile gleefully as she walked towards the bed with a skip in her step. It seemed her mother had planned ahead after all. She collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep shortly after. It had been roughly five years since Marcella had run away, and not a day went by without her touching the beautiful silver locket her mother gave her. She cherished it as if it were her mother herself. During her years at the house, she made friends with many of the woodland creatures, such as the deer and the stray cats or dogs. She was now 15 years old and still the sweet little thing she was when she left. She sincerely hoped that her siblings were alright but there wasn't much she could do for them other than pray long and hard. Occasionally, weary travelers became lost in the woods, and if she could, Marcella or her animal friends would help them find the path out of the forest. Many people who saw the beautiful, blonde-haired blue-eyed girl and her animal friends dubbed Marcella ‘Queen of the Forest.’ Some even recognized her as Princess Marcella of Nova Woods. She may not have been able to see her family, but Marcella was happy to be remembered.

It was a warm sunny day like no other in the land of Valliscollesor, the “the valley of hills.” Across the hilly landscape filled with high grasses and trees stood a little house tucked away against the backside of a high hill. A lovely, sweet song flowed into the air and surrounded the valley. A beautiful child rose through the high grasses, singing merrily and leaping about. Radiance and beauty streamed from this child. She sang songs of love and merriment. Her cheeks were flushed with color from running through the wind, her long chestnut-brown hair flowed in curly waves. Her lips were red as roses, her skin tan from the sun. Her were eyes a beautiful turquoise mixed with green, and her pupils rimmed with gold; she was angelic and graceful. She spun around and around with her neck and arms reaching out. She spun until she fell to the ground, bursting with giggles and laughter. “Proserpina? Proserpina! Come here dear!” “Coming mother!” she answers. She jumped to her dainty feet and skipped to her mother’s open arms. “Oh Proserpina, just look at you.” Her mother pulled Proserpina's wild hair aside, touching her jawline and lifting her chin. The mother stared at Proserpina for a while, falling into her beauty. “Dear, I am leaving to go to the far away land of Terraaquarum. The land there is rather dry and needs some vegetation.” You see, her mother was Ceres, the goddess of the harvest. Ceres often had to travel to other places and harvest them. “Now darling, be good and do not ever go into the forest. You understand?” “Yes mother. Does this mean you have to leave me again?” Proserpina did not try to hide her sorrow. Her mother chuckled and lifted her chin. “Yes, I have to leave, but I will be home soon. You will see, very soon!” With that, her body faded into the sky and she left Proserpina alone in the middle the valley. Proserpina shuffled her feet and hung her head in loneliness. She then lifted her head and sang a song of sorrow. My mother left me Alone and cold, With no one to hold. With no company except the birds, I will sing to no one of importance. I will eat alone, sing alone, and be alone.

“Two as One.” Lorraine Keenan, Grade 5

Alone in this valley, Alone in this house; Alone. My mother left me

Alone and cold, With no one to hold

It rained for days. The rain struck the small window panes and the thunder rumbled in the sky. Proserpina stayed inside, overruled with boredom. The rain looked so refreshing; she had spent days stuck in the stuffy house. Finally, her temptation became too strong. She pulled open the door of the little hut and ran out into the chilling rain, spinning and spinning. The rain fell softly—it ran down her face and got caught on her eyelashes. She laughed and jumped in the puddles, ran across the valley spreading her arms out like wings, catching the water. The sun peeked out from the dark cloud as the rain fell even softer. The sun reached out its rays one by one as it dried the valley and the drenched Proserpina. She ran until her legs could not carry her anymore. The sun had finally come out from behind the cloud. A gentle warm breeze covered the beautiful valley. When she looked up, she realized that she had run to the edge of the valley and into the forbidden forest. One foot stood on the valley and the other in the forest. Just as she moved her foot to turn her back, a particular moment caught her eye. A white rabbit stood in the middle of the forest circled by six trees. Its beauty drew her in; she stepped both her feet onto the forest floor. Slowly, she came closer to the rabbit, its white fur like a cloud against a sky of green vegetation. Closer and closer Proserpina crept, whispering words of comfort. As Proserpina lowered her hand to the rabbit, it turned and went to hide in a large bush. The bush was covered with dark purple flowers, its dark green leaves covered in rain drops. In the middle of the bush was a single pomegranate. It was so captivating, Proserpina could not turn or move—it drew her in. She reached her hand out and drew her fingers against it, its skin was rough but smooth. Without thinking, she grasped the pomegranate and twisted its thin stem, and it came off easily. With one motion, she peeled back its skin and bit into the sweet seeds within. The sweetness of the fruit burst over her tongue. She murmured in delight, "Mmmmnnn." Just then, the ground shook and trembled as it cracked. She lost her footing on the crumbling ground and fell into a dark abyss. A scream tore out of her throat as she tensed for the fall, but it never came. A deep voice from inside the chasm rang out, “Who dare eat my pomegranate?!” She did not know how to answer. Finally, she said, “I, Proserpina—the daughter of Ceres.” He chuckled and replied, “And you—daughter of Ceres—think that you can eat my fruit?” Fear gripped Proserpina as she spoke in a cowardly, quiet voice, “I am sorry O’ Powerful one. I had no knowledge that it was your fruit.” The mysterious man came out from the shadows and introduced himself. He was Pluto, the King of the Underworld. He was strikingly handsome in a dark and mysterious way. All of his features were dark, but very outstanding. His chin and cheekbones were high, and his jaw was clenched. He flicked his head forward in a sign to follow him. With no where else to go and nothing to do, she followed him. Pluto led her deeper into the cave until they came across a clearing. The sky was filled with a dreadful red haze and the earth a deathly black. An evil looking castle stood in the horizon like mist in the air. The stink of burning flesh and death covered the atmosphere and choked it. “Welcome to Hades, the land of the underworld," said Pluto. Proserpina was struck with a gripping fear, and she swallowed this terror down her throat. The physical appearance of this place turned her insides out as her nose filtered the smell of it all. Numbly, she followed Pluto as he led her to his castle.

Days passed and each day she asked if she could go back home. Each day Pluto answered, “Don’t you want to live in Hades forever? I will be your protector. We can have a family and live richly in my castle! It shall be the life!”and each day Proserpina screeches in terror, “I will never be your queen! I will not live here! Now on my life, LET ME GO!” Pluto visited her each day and offered her platters. He offered roasted duck with orange-rosemary sauce, sweet fruits, nuts, roasted tomatoes, squash, overflowing bowls of rice, chicken and vegetable soup. The scent of sweet cakes made of milk and honey filled the air. Even though Proserpina is tempted, she refused the food. Pluto pleaded with her. “Proserpina, eat my dear, before you grow weak.” He reached out his hand and gently touched her chin—she lifted her eyes for a second but quickly jerked them away. In shame and in fright, she allowed tears to flow freely from her eyes. “Shhhh.... Proserpina, don’t be frightened. Shhhh...” He lifted his hand higher until he cupped her soft face. He then slid his other hand up her hair line and into her soft hair, then softly brushed her tears away. “Please don’t cry,” he whispers. She turned her eyes away from the floor and into Pluto’s. His eyes are a dark, oak-brown with splashes of black. Despite their intense darkness, they were still warm. His eyes shined with compassion and love; she couldn't pull her eyes away. Proserpina’s heart was softened—she was beginning to fall in love with Pluto. She pushed Pluto closer and closer to her face. Minutes pass this way as they are locked in love. Proserpina pulls Pluto closer, until her lips were touching his ear. “Some of that food sounds quite amazing to me,” she whispered. His face turns crimson in embarrassment as he clears his throat. “Yes, the food, most certainty.” He brings platters and platters of delicious meats, fruits, nuts, cheeses, vegetables, grains, and wines. She looks over the food as if pondering what to eat first. She reached out her hand and picked up a pomegranate. You see, this pomegranate was not just a normal pomegranate—it was a large pomegranate, sparkling with beauty. Its skin was not maroon, but a deep, royal red. Its seeds were not wilting or rotting, but they were fresh and crisp. The fruit as a whole was so equally portioned that not a seed looked out of place. Its skin was equal and fair without one scrape or indention. She looked at it in wonder and in awe. Pluto was eager about the fruit. “Look at that fruit! Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it lovely?”

She picked the fruit up as if it was made of glass. “Yes, yes. It is very beautiful. Is it okay if I eat it?” Pluto chuckled softly. “Of course, my love, anything for you—especially this lovely fruit.” She peeled back the skin of the pomegranate, took one seed, examined it, and slowly lowered it to her mouth. Sweetness exploded over her tongue; she was awestruck by this fruit. Little did poor Proserpina know the pomegranate was injected with love potion. Pluto knew he loved Proserpina and did not want to lose her. He injected the potion into a fruit he knew she would eat. For the rest of Proserpina’s life, she lived under the spell of Pluto. Her poor mother fell into such deep distress that she let the world starve. Proserpina herself was forced into a lifelong love that she couldn't understand. She lived out the rest of her days as the Queen of the Underworld.

34 35

“Once Upon a Black Hole.” Daniela Marti, Grade 12

“Natural Beauty.” Ana Lynch, Grade 10

The Bizarre Pneumas

“You had a reaction to Milo’s electricity,” the Ringmaster stepped forward from thin air. “You are the one we’ve been missing, my dear.” Elladine shook her head rapidly. “What are you talking about? Change me back!” The show was destined to start. Suddenly, ripped, maroon curtains jerked back revealing a single spot “Only you can do that,” the thin girl replied. light focused on a tall, lengthy man. His curled, brown mustache matched the straggly hair peeking from his “How?” worn top-hat. The man’s eyes were black coals, and his blood-colored lips peeked above a pointed goatee. His “We are not you —” stated the Ringmaster, “thus, we do not know.” yellow, button down jacket was half tucked into his dirty, red and yellow stripped suspenders. Heat conjugated behind Elladine’s eyes. She wanted to burst with tears. A single tear stained her scaly “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome… To the Bizarre cheek. All at once, her reflection changed. Her black, short hair and fair skin Pneumas Magic Circus!” A small applause rose from the man’s announcement. returned. “I am the Ringmaster! Please refrain from drinking or eating in the theatre, “It seems, my dear, that electricity initiates your transformation and and I do hope you enjoy our show,” A wicked smirk crossed his face as his lips water reverses the effect,” the Ringmaster observed stroking his beard. “You’ll dipped the tone of his words to a deep, drawn out level. His eyebrows flicked work marvelously in our act. Alice, I trust you will see to it that she is well up and he waved his hand motioning to the stage. cared for.” The lights went out, morphing the room to a black abyss. A “Buzzt!” The girl with piercing green eyes, Alice, responded obediently. Alice echoed through the room. Then another, followed by an identical one. Sudsnatched Elladine’s wrist and dragged her through the darkness of back stage denly, a young man stood centered on the modest stage. Blue, stringy waves to a rotted yard lit by torches. Nomad tents dotted the ground. Figures shadcrackled between his separated palms— electricity! The glow of electric waves owed in them, but their faces were never revealed. radiated on his emotionless face. He flung the cackling waves into the air and “It’s nice to meet you, Elladine,” the girl said. “I think you’ll like it they paused above the crowd. Flinching his fingers wildly, the boy manipulated here. There are all sorts of people like us.” the electricity. Pictures of serene meadows and lush forests appeared from the “Like it here? Like us?” Elladine questioned. “I’m not staying!” waves. The crowd stared in awe. Alice looked at her over her shoulder. “I think your mind might be “May I have a volunteer?” The boy asked in a strained voice. Many changed.” Alice dove into a tent bringing Elladine with her. “This is Terrance. flung up their hands. He will explain everything,” the girl disappeared abruptly disappeared. He stared into her eyes like they were a target, shooting with his tur A tall boy turned to Elladine. He was Elladine’s age, around 16. He quoise irises. “You.” wore jeans and a gray button down shirt. He brushed his fingers through light The girl he stared at laid a hand on her chest and peered around. “Me?” brunette hair that was like smooth maple syrup. His skin was especially pal He nodded. lid, but his eyes were like the sun, a shining gold. He was beautiful, to say the Every eye dug into her as she climbed the stage. She bit her lip and least. fiddled nervously with her gray long shirt sleeve. “Lovely to meet you, Elladine,” he offered his hand. “I am Terrance.” “I am Milo, the infinite. What’s your name?” The young man asked. Elladine shook his hand. “How do you know my name?” She responded timidly, “Elladine.” “I can examine thoughts like you can transform,” Terrence said. “I “Elladine, touch the electricity,” he commanded flatly. shall explain further.” For some reason she trusted him and didn’t even hesitate to do what She nodded and sat at a desk as he motioned her to. he asked. Elladine’s fingers skimmed the electricity for just a moment, then “You are a result of experimentation like we all are,” Terrance beshrieks pierced the air. The audience leapt from their seats and flailed in panic gins. “At birth you were taken from your parents, experimented on and then out the doors. The small, ragged theatre was emptied in seconds. returned to your family. The rest of us, however, were not given back because The boy smirked at her, confusing Elladine even more. “We’ve found we had no homes to go back to. We were set free. The scientists that did this her,” he said, as if he was calling to others. to us are long dead, but we have each other and our craft. Though we knew “We did?” A skinny, green-eyed girl entered from the black gaps beside something was missing from our show, and that was you. We now have all of the show curtains. “Oh, she’s splendid!” The girl held a mirror to Elladine’s our Bizarre Pneumas. Will you perform with us? Learn with us? You belong view. “Why look at you!” here, Elladine. Will you stay?” Elladine squealed when she saw the image in the mirror. An ugly “I will stay.” scaled beast, with red eyes and jagged fangs gawked back at her. It reflected her He smiled charmingly, making that the first time she saw emotion movements; it was Elladine. In panic she gaped at her talons that were supspread on his face. “May I welcome you by buying dinner?” posed to be hands. “Maybe… If you tell me more about this Circus.” “An Enchanted Night.” Alexandra Riker, Grade 11 “What happened?” Elladine croaked. “First thing: Its possibilities are infinite.” By Bryce King, Grade 10

The Colors of Battle Damel Berry, Grade 12

“Untitled.” Jessica Olivier, Grade 12

Once Upon A Time, there was a kingdom in a far-off land. The kingdom was split into two different

areas: one ruled by the red king, and the other ruled by the blue king. The red king was a brutal man that never seemed to rest. His palace was covered in different shades of red that reflected his strong ambitions. He was the type of person that would rush into battle without a second thought, and he would use his brute force to solve all of his kingdom’s problems. While some looked up to his rash and destructive behavior, it was also frowned upon by many - even from his own kingdom. But neither this, nor anything else could stop his sense of vitality. On the other side of the kingdom, the blue king lived in his palace of refreshing tranquility. The blue king was a man of great wisdom and self assurance; he was calm under pressure and nothing could change his stolid persona. He always thought before he acted, and never charged into battle without first thinking out every possible scenario. Even with both kings having completely opposite personalities, they had always maintained a stable alliance. The kings agreed to host a party in each other’s honor, commemorating another war-less year. The blue king took the liberty of hosting the event in his palace, so the red kingdom was left defenseless and barren for a night of amusement and merriness. While the two kingdoms partied the night away, an army of shadowed figures marched into the red kingdom and commenced ransacking and demolishing everything within. Upon returning to his kingdom, the red king was shocked by what he had discovered. Everything in his kingdom was destroyed; his palace was stripped of all its royals. The red king’s face turned a deep scarlet color, and he let out a chilling scream. He sent his guards high and low to find evidence and figure out who would do such a thing. The guards soon returned with handfuls of tattered remains from green clothing, and the king finally understood who had done this. On the other side of the kingdom, there lived the green king. The green king was a slaving tyrant that valued wealth over anything. His palace was laced with gold trims, and images of himself in royal attire lined his walls. His people were forced into life of toil, obligated to pay unaffordable taxes to satisfy his lust for power. But even with all this, he still wanted more. Being a very jealous man, he held a strong distaste for both the red and blue king. He wanted everything for himself, and wondered why his palace had to be condemned to the outskirts of the kingdom. Furious with the green king’s attitude and behavior, the red king prepared his armed forces for an all out attack against him. He traveled over to the blue kingdom and beckoned the king to join forces for the upcoming battle. The blue king only shook his head. “I will not help you,” he said.

The red king slammed his fists on the table in a fit of rage. “Why will you not assist me in battle?” he cried angrily. The blue king gave a stern look. “Because this pointless endeavor will only cause pain and strife!” The red king narrowed his eyes at his “comrade” before storming off. The day of the battle began with a sun-blazing sky before it changed to a dark, menacing gray. The pitterpatter of rain began to fall, and the two kings stared each other down. The red king was the first to give the attack signal, and the green king followed shortly after. Swords were crossed and bodies lay limp in the murky, brown mud. Both kings dueled valiantly, and neither side gave an inch. This went on for days, which soon became months. Finally, the green king made a hasty retreat, and the red king summoned the last of his men to follow suit. Upon overlooking his men, the red king noticed they were in no condition to continue. With his kingdom far away and with so many of his soldiers wounded, he knew that they would not make it. The red king felt something that he had never felt before; it was sorrow. He had put so many of his people in harm’s wayfor nothing more than his foolish pride--and now they would all perish. Days went by and his men’s condition continued to worsen. There was nothing that he could do. Days continued to pass by, until something surprising happened. In the distance, trotting toward his army was a blanket of blue soldiers. The blue king had arrived with his own armed forces, along with a group of medics. The blue king carried in his arms the crown of the green king, and he placed it at the feet of the red king. Both kings exchanged glances before overseeing the battlefield. A combination of rain and the blazing sun had made the field dry and barren. As they scanned the field, the red “Enchanted Flower.” Caroline Ignace, Grade 11 king’s guilt was intensified. He feel to his knees and started to weep. The blue king continued to look and could see something faint in the distance. He walked over and gaped at what he saw. There on the field lay a single purple flower, glowing with a faint heavenly color. He plucked the flower from the ground and presented it to the red king. It was then that both kings decided to aggregate the land in order to make a memorial for all who had lost their lives. The years passed, and the land was now cover in bright, colorful flowers. Both kings knew they had made the right decision.

The Story of a Forest Emily, Grade 5

Once upon a time, the forests were heavy and filled with happy animals. The squirrels chattered joyfully, the birds sang merrily, the wolves hunted delightedly, and raccoons foraged contentedly. One day, a Spotted Owl named Kade decided to take a short flight. He soared slowly over the trees, looking down on the forest’s green crowns. Suddenly, he heard a sharp noise. “BUZZ!” Kade was frightened. He angled his head and swooped down. To his surprise, he found a two-legged creature with a shiny “thing” in its talons. The thing was whirring and slashing a tree’s trunk. Then, “CRACK!” The shiny thing stopped its dreadful noise and the two-legged creature stepped back from the tree. The tree slowly collapsed. Kade gaped at the two-legged creature and the shiny thing; he had a feeling that there would be more fallen trees. In a year, the forest was gone. The trees were merely stumps in the grass. The squirrels were scrawny and sparse, no longer able to live. The raccoons had moved on. The rodents that Kade feasted on had either moved or perished. Kade himself had nowhere to roost, so he had to fly away from his homeland - fly away from what once had been a beautiful, joyful forest.

Illustrated by Emily, Grade 5, Colored by Grace, Grade 4

“The Enchanted Forest, Alexa, Grade 10

“Winter in Garmish.” Brooke Lyonnais, Grade 12

“Golden Days.” Manar Al-Badarneh, Grade 10

“1960s.” Samantha Stanworth, Grade 10

At the Sea

Helena Jossette Robinson, Grade 12

It was a nice day out with plenty of cloud coverage and no signs of heavy rain or storms; this had been the usual weather for the past week. For Kyle’s family, it was a sign of relief, but for him, it was not. His family had planned a beach trip that day, which excited Kyle’s sister Nicole, but not Kyle. He disliked the beach, as nothing interesting happened there, and the sand always seemed to get stuck in irritating places. His sister did not hide her excitement; she became very vocal as soon as she heard they could go. Kyle showed equal ‘excitement’ although his was false. He felt neither excitement nor enjoyment for this trip. During the car ride to the beach, Nicole spoke of how many undiscovered animals were in the ocean. Kyle considered himself a skeptic of anything supernatural. He always tried to keep an open mind, but it was not easy when hearing stories of monsters and hidden beauties underneath the ocean. When they arrived at the beach, he helped his parents set up near the water. His sister was saying how she could not wait to be in the water after so long, and that the storms shouldn’t hurry back so she could revisit the beach every day that week. Kyle simply shook his head and thought of how interesting eight-year-olds are. He began to walk on his own near the shoreline to see if there was anything interesting, but with little results. He sighed as he kicked the sand in frustration, sending it flying towards a row of rocks ahead of him. He noticed how the rocks surrounded one area of the shoreline, which made him pause and tilt his head with curiosity. Perhaps it was nothing, but he had nothing else to do at the moment, so Kyle walked to the rocks and stepped over them. Water rose to his ankles. He walked until he was knee deep in the water. He was searching for seashells to take back to Nicole. Something was shining in front of him. He thought nothing of it and reached down to grasp the object. But what he felt was not another shell; in fact, he had no clue what it was. He suspected it was a fish because it felt full of scales, soft yet firm to his touch. It moved quickly away from him. It must have been a fish.

But the shiny fish came near him again. Kyle stood up, and looking closely, noticed for the first time that the shiny object was colorful and much larger than a fish, yet it looked like a fin or tail. His eyes followed the length of the tail and stopped when they reached what he thought had been a human back. He jumped back in surprise. The tail moved quickly, sending sand up in the water and making the surface cloudy. He dropped the seashells and ran after it through the water. Of course, the water began to slow him down, so he moved more onto land to make it easier. He stopped and looked around in what might look like panic to someone else, but was really just shock. He heard a splash of water to his left and turned quickly, freezing when he saw a woman. She was simply gorgeous, the top of her body in light scales that spread across her chest and down into a thin layer towards her stomach, joining the area where her tail was. She had long, teal hair with bright violet eyes that stood out against her skin tone. She gave a curious tilt of her head as a soft smile tugged at each corner of her lips. Her hands looked slightly webbed together and were a light silver compared to the rest of her skin tone.

He dismissed it and began to search through the water and sand for more shells, only finding a few that were decent enough to take back to his sister.

“Dominican Beauty.” Nathan Perdomo, Grade 9

Kyle stared in awe, his eyes trailing to where her tail met her waist. The tail itself was large and a shiny bright blue color that seemed to reflect anytime a ray of sunlight hit it. She was resting against a rock, partially out of water. She tilted her angelic face at him and opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, seeing was believing. But as Kyle turned to call for his family, he heard a large splash from where she had just been. When he looked back at the rock, she was gone. “Poseidon Reaching Up.” Emily Laurent, Grade 10

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The host smiled at the camera. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the premiere of the brand-new TV show, So You Think You Know Fairy Tales? My name is Katherine Grimm, and I'm your host! Now, the rules of So You Think You Know Fairy Tales? are relatively easy. All the contestants have to do is answer questions about the stories. Now, let's meet our contestants. First, we have Hansel and his sister, Gretel, from the deep, dark forest! How ya doin', kids?" Hansel harrumphed. "Can I remind you, Miss Grimm, that it's been several years since what happened in the forest? My sister and I have been living with our dad in his house, but we're not kids. And we're only on this game show to win the grand prize so we can each buy our own house. The witch's gold didn't last very long." Gretel jumped in. "That's only because my stupid brother bought a flat-screen TV, a mansion, and a Ferrari. If I'd had my way, we would still have plenty of money left." "Yeah, yeah. You're so much smarter than me, sis. Shut up." Katherine Grimm forced a smile. "Okay. Well, welcome to the show! Our next contestant is the long-haired lady herself, Rapunzel!" "Seriously? That was the best introduction you could come up with? My hair isn't even long anymore. I'm married and have children. Do I look like I have three hours to spare to wash my hair every day? And then another hour to braid it? No! And I am a queen, not a lady. Get your facts right, Grimm." "I'm sorry, Queen Rapunzel. I'll do better next time.“ "You'd better," Rapunzel muttered. "And our next contestant," Katherine Grimm continued, "is one that needs no introduction. Everyone all across the land knows her and loves her. Ladies and gentlemen, Cinderella!" "Oh, I get it," Rapunzel said. "She needs no introduction, but I do? Please! My kingdom is twice the size of hers." "But my story is more interesting," Cinderella told her.

"Yeah, if you like sissies that can't say no to their step-family." The two looked ready to brawl, but Katherine Grimm stopped them. "No fighting, ladies! Remember, children are watching this program. And our final contestant is from the Sherwood Forest. Ladies and gentlemen, Robin Hood!" "I'm positively thrilled to be here, Miss Grimm," he said. "Except for the fact that the time I'm wasting is time lost stealing from the rich." "Right, of course. Now, you all know how the show works, right?" They nodded. "Good. We're going to test your knowledge of your own and each other's fairy tales by asking you many questions pertaining to each story. By the way, we're using the Grimm Brothers versions. But there's not much difference. Ready? Let's go!" She looked at Rapunzel. "The first question pertains to your fairy tale, Rapunzel. This question is open to everyone. The question is: How many children did Rapunzel have when the prince found her in the desert?" Rapunzel pressed the buzzer first. "Trick question. I had none." "Incorrect. Who was next?" "Whoa, wait, lady. I was there. It was just me. I didn't have any kids." "According to the Grimm Brothers version, you did. Anyone else? How many children did Rapunzel have in the desert?" Cinderella pressed her buzzer. "Rapunzel had twins - a boy and a girl." "That is correct. One point to Cinderella." "It didn't happen," Rapunzel said. "I didn't have kids until the prince and I got back to the castle and were married." "According to the Grimm Brothers version, you and the prince were married in the tower," Katherine Grimm said. Rapunzel gave her a puzzled look, but Katherine was already on to the next question. "The next question is about Hansel and Gretel's story. The question is: Who came up with the idea to leave a trail to find their way home?" Gretel pressed the buzzer. "Me, of course. I

may be younger, but my big brother is barely capable of taking care of himself, much less coming up with an intelligent plot." "Incorrect." "What?" Gretel asked. "You've seen him, right? I had to help him with his jacket this morning because the zippers confused him. You really think he came up with that plan?" "That's what the Grimm Brothers version says. Anyone else?" Robin Hood pressed his buzzer. "Was it Hansel?" "That is correct, Robin Hood." Hansel grinned at Gretel. "See? I told you I was smarter than I seemed. I came up with the plan." Gretel rolled her eyes. "Nincompoop." "Our third question is about Cinderella's story. Your question is: How did Cinderella make the first dress?" Cinderella pressed the buzzer. "I somehow found the time to make the beautiful dress, despite my hectic list of things to do." "Incorrect.“ "Excuse me? I was there, Grimm. I made that dress with my bare hands." "It's incorrect." She looked at the others. "Does anyone else have an idea?" Gretel and Hansel pressed the buzzer at the same time, but Hansel relinquished control to his sister. "Her mice friends made it for her," she said. "That's correct, Gretel." "What? How can I have mice friends? I can't make friends with mice. No one can!" "You are in the Grimm Brothers version," Katherine said. "The next question is from Robin Hood's story. The question is: What was Robin Hood's popularity status with the nobility?" Robin Hood pressed the buzzer. "They hated me." "I'm sorry. That's incorrect." Rapunzel pressed her buzzer. "They admired his courage." "That's correct, Rapunzel." "What? You weren't there, Grimm! They weren't 'admiring my courage' when they tried to hang me." "They did in the Grimm Brothers version." Cinderella glanced at Robin Hood. "How did the hanging thing work out?"

"Not very well for them, considering I'm still here." "And the first round has ended," Katherine Grimm announced, "with every contestant having one point each. Let's begin round two." "Wait a second. We've got a bone to pick with you, Grimm," Hansel and Gretel said. "You said that the versions of our stories being used for the show were the Grimm Brothers versions. Why not use the original versions? The versions we told to those stupid storytellers, before they changed practically everything." "Hey!" Katherine exclaimed. "One of those stupid storytellers was my father, and the other was my uncle. They're the producers of this show." "We get it now," the contestants said. "The Grimms messed up our stories, and now you're putting them on a TV show to advertise them." "No," Katherine lied. "These versions of the stories are just better." The contestants looked at each other. "How about we turn So You Think You Know Fairy Tales? into So You Think You Can Beat Up a Host?" Hansel suggested. "That's the first intelligent thing you've probably ever said, brother," Gretel told him. "Let's be rational about this," Katherine said, backing up a bit. All of the contestants began chasing Katherine Grimm around the stage while she yelled, "That's all for now, folks! Tune in next week for an even more interesting show!"

“Magical Marquee.” Megan, Grade 8

Kinsey Stubbs, Grade 10

As she sat and watched her children sleep, she was still quietly wondering how it had happened. She thought to herself, "How could someone do such a terrible thing? How could someone simply let go of their most important responsibility?" Suddenly, she watched motionless as her grand bedroom begin to shift and shrink down to a very small size. Her beautiful balcony twisted and fell, leaving nothing but a window behind. She began to see people in her room. A beautiful woman bearing a child walked to the window and gazed out of it. A moment later, this woman fell ill onto the downsized bed. A flower she'd seen in the garden caught her eye, and she immediately craved it. Her husband came to her a little later. He couldn’t stand to see her in discomfort, so he went out to get this flower for her. As he was approaching the garden, he realized who it belonged to. This was the garden of Dame Gothel, the enchantress. She was feared by everyone, and he was hesitant to steal from her. However, knowing that his wife needed it pushed him to carry on. He brought his wife the flower. She ate it all up greedily, but she needed even more to survive. Her husband quickly returned to the garden, determined that he would not let his wife pass away with their child. This time, however, he was not so lucky. The enchantress saw him with her furious eyes, questioning him. He responded with spewing bullets as sentences. "You don't understand! My wife is with child. She needs a flower!"

“Raining Dream.” Jessica Youngblood Grade 9

The Flower

Being a witch, Gothel knew his predicament, but she had a grand plan. She made a deal with him. "I will give you all the flowers you need, but only if you give me your child. I will raise her as my own and she will be my daughter."

“Night Blooming Wonders.” Kaitlyn Colon, Grade 11

The husband became confused and started stuttering with fright. He said, "My wife will be very thankful for the flowers," and ran home.

After his wife ate the flowers, she was finally satisfied. Her husband was glad to see her relief, but was suddenly struck with the knowledge of what he had done "How could I have traded our daughter away?" he said aloud, but it was too late now. His wife responded with confusion. "We don’t have a daughter...unless this is a girl, but how could you know that?" He realized that Gothel had known the gender of their baby. Ashamed of his own foolishness, he told his wife what had happened. In seeing her husband's guilt, she kept her grief to herself. Instead, she insisted that she was relieved and that she didn’t think that she was ready to be mother. They both secretly hoped that Dame Gothel wouldn’t remember her part of the deal, but she did. Only two minutes after the baby's birth, she was named Rapunzel, after the flower, and taken from her parents. They both wept for hours in each others arms, not knowing what would happen to their precious daughter. She suddenly awoke, her room was grand again with a beautiful balcony. Instantly, she knew what she had just seen. Rapunzel now understood why she was separated from her parents, and she knew that they would be so glad to know that she was now a princess with two children of her own.

The Princess of White Natasha, Grade 10

Once upon a time, there was a world too wondrous, too strange to exist anywhere but dreams and shadows. In this wondrous, strange place, a soaring castle of silver purity stood in its own self-righteous glory. Throughout this wondrous, strange world, the only thing more magnificent than the soaring castle was the Princess of White, called Cloud. The Princess of White was the most wondrous, strange type of girl, which was appropriate for a wondrous, strange world. Her soul and mind and body existed in a state of only one hue. If skies are blue and trees are green, then Cloud would be infinitely and irrevocably white. Her skin was white and so was her hair, though she was barely eighteen, and her eyes were pale, grey halos around black suns. She wore only pure silk untainted by dyes, and her headpieces consisted only of the snowy feathers of swans. She had never ventured outside for fear of corrupting her waxen skin, and she never dared to linger near windows too long. Although she was a very particular girl, do not mistake her as plain to look at. Though all of her seemed pallid, she was still incredibly beautiful. And as it happens with most beautiful women, she fell in love young and fell in love rich. Soon after her eighteenth birthday, she was engaged to nothing less than a shining silver prince. The daily attire of Cloud could have sufficed as wedding attire for any bride of today, but you must not forget this is a wondrous, strange land, full of wondrous, strange things. The bride’s gown was a pearly creation of silk; its features caressed her body and widened at the hips, trailing behind like a comet. She was a princess of course, but this dress was fit for a great and powerful goddess.

“Majestic Water.” Austin Williams, Grade 9

Cloud was so happy, the kind of happy that is sharp and booming like a ringing bell, the kind of joy that deserves to be shouted and sewn into blankets to keep you warm when it’s cold. This was the joy that raised the sun and allowed to moon to glow. Wouldn’t you feel this joy if all you ever wanted was the world, and today it just so happened that it was going to be given to you?

“Brother Sky, I plead with you to help me. Take me away from all that causes tears and all that brings forth pain. Take me away from sharp things and the colors of love. Take me away from my heart before it decides my body is worthless, before it decides to cease its futile beating. Take me away from all that is here and all that would be here.”

Cloud drifted through hallways with her ladies in waiting, dancing slowly with herself and daydreaming about wondrous, strange things. And as she opened a door where the hallway ended, she stumbled upon a most heinous sorrow; the man she was betrothed to seemed to have forgotten his love for her, and he had found it again in another body. With pain that can send convulsions and shudders through even the most eloquent ladies, she ran and ran and ran. And when she finally stopped, she was very far away.

“Sister Cloud, I can heed your pleas. Come with me.”

Cloud left her only home and all she had ever known. She plunged into the evergreen forest being pursued by her lover and her ladies. She tumbled and tripped with almost every step. The only thing that kept her going was the pain pulsating inside of her. She was blinded by her milky tears, which on other days would have been wiped away by a loving hand. She was cut and bruised by the sticks and stones of the forest, silver blood oozed from her wounds. She climbed a mountain; her only thought was to get to the ivory snow on its peak. When she reached her element, she collapsed and wept tears that made the snow melt. She cried out as though someone had pulled her apart, piece by piece and limb by limb. In this distress, she almost didn’t notice Brother Sky standing before her. He stood patiently, waiting to be greeted. With her senses finally cleared, she now had the composure to speak.

And with those words, she took his hand and he pulled her into the sky. Brother Sky carried her high up, and her body became light and her dress clean. Just as she settled into her new form, the silver prince stumbled onto the mountaintop. He called to her, and all she could do was watch with sorrow. He stood on his toes and jumped and grasped the end of her dress and wrenched her from the sky. Her fear and anger and sorrow powerfully pulsed through her, and she let forth a wail appropriate for battle, the pains spreading out from her heart. As they touched, his hand holding her down, it vibrated through the prince’s body. The shock was enough to send him tumbling back and leave his heart pounding. Cloud called for Cousin Wind to carry her away, and since princesses in need are usually helped, the wind came and carried her to a far away land. She traveled the world, shared the sorrows of women, and cried with them. She cried for the broken-hearted and cried for those doomed by love. She cried for lost joy and the people who got lost inside themselves. And whenever wronged lovers--who had felt the same pain and sorrow that she had--asked to be taken away, she dressed them in glorious, white gowns and took them with her as she traveled across the sky. And with this band of white ladies, Cloud shared her tears with those consumed in sorrow for all eternity.

“Vanity.” Dominique Yatchum, Grade 12

“Auld Lang Syne: For Old Time’s Sake.” Maygan Flood, Grade 12

“Water Meets Earth.” Amanda Bossle, Grade 10

“Willow’s Dynasty.” Caylee Stout, Grade 11

“Creation’s Beauty.” Hannah Oliver, Grade 10

Aiyana and the Magena Tori Hines, Grade 11 Once upon a time, when the world was new, the Magena looked down at the barren earth and felt a twinge of loneliness, looking all over for a companion. The Magena, feeling so sad, began to weep. As her tears flew across the sky, some of them crashed on earth. From her tears, animals arose and spread all across the land— but the Magena was still sad. She couldn’t talk to the animals and she was stuck watching them on earth. Years went by and she kept crying and from her tears, more and more animals arose, each of them one of a kind. Some of the animals began to grow old and die, but every time one died the Magena would cry, and another one would arise in its place. One night, a different kind of animal arose. This one intrigued the Magena so she watched it carefully. As it grew, the Magena taught it how to talk to her. It became known as Aiyana because of its beauty. Aiyana grew to be a strong girl who was as fast as a snake and as stealthy as a tiger on the prowl; yet she was still kind and wise. Each night around weayaya, she would climb up the tallest tree and wait for Magena. When the Magena arrived, with her most beautiful face and sparkling eyes, she would say, “Ayasha, you are more precious than the stars.” Aiyana would always beg for the Magena to take her with her. But the Magena would always say, “I would light up the universe if I could, but I am a part of the sky and you are a part of the earth.” Then she would sing Aiyana to sleep, and the Magena would be gone when the sun arose.

Sari slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Aiyana and all of the animals and slowly crept out of the water. “I can help,” he finally said, “but only you alone.” Aiyana followed him as he walked across the edge of the water. “Weayaya is close, she’ll be expecting you,” Sari said in a low voice. “How did you know about her?” Aiyana asked, shocked at his statement. “She is life,” was all he said. He went on to tell Aiyana about Hehewuti— a spirit with the Miakoda whose essence lives in a big oak tree in the mountain cave. “Only one knows the way to Hehewuti,” said Sari. “Great! Who?” “Absila; she is the only one who has traveled there.” “Where is she? I need her help.”

One day, Aiyana became tired of excuses. She began preparing to travel, to find a way to become part of the sky. She started by asking in the best way she could if anyone knew how to get up in the sky. A monkey came to her and said, “If it’s the sky you wish to touch, then talk to the one with wings.” He pointed her in the direction of a beautiful bird perched in a tree.

“She is dead,” Sari replied, “but her spirit isn’t." With that he tapped the water, and a shimmer dashed around the depths of the lake at lightning speed.

She went over to the bird and asked how to become a part of the sky. The bird, being very curious, asked why. Aiyana told the bird her story, and he paused and thought for a while. “I can’t teach you how to fly like me, but I know someone who might be able to help you. Have you ever heard of Sari?” said the bird after a few minutes. Sari was a turtle that lived by the big lake. It was said he was the oldest animal alive.

“Adsila,” he said, “do not fear. Come to me and you shall be safe.” Almost immediately, the shimmer stopped moving and began to slowly creep toward the edge. Suddenly, it emerged from the water and seemed to crawl onto the earth. “Adsila, this is Aiyana," Sari said, "Aiyana, this is your Alo.” The shimmer didn’t speak or have any distinguishable features; it was just light, pure, beautiful, light. Aiyana followed it as best she could, but the shimmer— not being stuck to any physical body— seemed to move much quicker. After traveling for an hour, weayaya drew much closer and the sun quickly faded away. Aiyana rushed to climb a tree so she could see the Magena. The Magena searched to find Aiyana, worried that something happened to her. Aiyana tried to get the Magena's attention, but she was too far down and couldn’t. She decided to hurry up and get to Hehewuti as fast as she could. She woke up Adsila and told it of her worries, and with that they ran across the land as fast as they could, not stopping. Faster and faster they ran until they reached the mountain. Then Adsila stopped abruptly and came close to Aiyana.

While they traveled, some of the other animals who overheard Aiyana's story joined in on the journey. When they all finally reached the lake, they found Sari resting in the water. “Sari, I wish to become part of the sky. Can you help me?” Aiyana asked.

“This is as far as I go,” Adsila said, “Tell gaho I said 'hi'." “Gaho?” Aiyana asked, only to find Adsila gone. “Cubic Lion.” Hyun Jee, Grade 12

Aiyana ran up the mountain to the cave entrance, stopping in her tracks at the sight of two Cheveyos. She let

out a low whimper and slowly tried to back away, but it was too late. They were quicker than light and had their cold hard hands on her arms, dragging her into the cave. Although she was scared, she didn’t struggle — she just prayed and prayed she would be saved. Just then, the Cheveyos let go of her arms and she fell to the ground. She looked up, and in front of her was a big oak tree. It was Hehewuti; Aiyana crawled on the ground towards the tree.

an. The woman shone and had the most beautiful sparkling eyes.

“Please, Hehewuti! If you are there, I need your help!” Aiyana screamed. Suddenly, light burst from the leaves of the tree, illuminating the cave.

“Am I in the sky with you?” Aiyana asked, hopeful even though she saw the walls of the cave.

“Ayasha, you wish to be with the one who raised you and loved you,” said Hehewuti, “but what makes you so one of a kind, so different from the rest of the animals is your love. We need you--someone to teach them, understand them, and love them. They all want someone to love them as the Magena has come to love you.” “Then make it so! Please, I beg of you. Let them know the love I have, if that is what you wish to do, but please answer my prayer and end her worries!” begged Aiyana. “I cannot. Not on my own. I do not have the powers to help them all, but I can help you. All you need is the love in your heart; let that shine and the Magena will come to you.” Then the leaves stopped glowing, and the cave was once again dark. Aiyana closed her eyes and thought about the words Hehewuti said. She thought of all the feeling of comfort and warmth when the Magena was around. She thought about how her heart hurts when she is gone, and how she feels safe when she is near. She thought of all of the love she had for the Magena. And she shined, like a star in the sky, she shined. “Ayasha, you are more precious than the stars,” a voice said. Aiyana turned to see an animal just like her, a wom

“Magena?” Aiyana asked, “Is that you?” “Yes, Ayasha, it is me.” The woman smiled a brilliant smile.

“No, Ayasha. I am sorry.” The woman’s face full of sorrow and pain. “I have only sent down a piece of me to you.” “Can you stay?” asked Aiyana. “Forever and always my little star,” said the Magena, “I love you more than words.” Aiyana froze a little, hearing this made her remember Hehewuti’s words about the other animals and their craving for love. She knew the Magena had enough power to help them. “Magena, do you love the other animals too?” Aiyana asked. “Of course my darling, why do you ask?” “I love you, but I cannot deprive them of the same love you give me.” “What are you saying, Aiyana?” came closer and hugged Aiyana. That night, something miraculous happened. As every tear fell, animals arose, but these animals were different. These animals were older and wiser; these animals loved. That night was the night that Gahos were made. From that night on, no animal has ever felt neglected or unloved or misunderstood, thanks to one girl and the love of another. They will never have to be alone, even until the end of time. Glossary

Adsila- blossom Aiyana- eternal blossom Alo- Spirit guide Ayasha- little one

“Untitled.” Moira Conley, Grade 10

Cheveyo- Spirit warrior Gaho- mother Hehewuti- warrior mother spirit Magena- moon

“Wolve’s Pack.” Isabella Wagner, Grade 9

Miakoda- power of the moon Sari- the old one Weayaya- setting sun

W hen J ohn and Kat e i nt roduced Herder t o Ben, Herder t ri ed t o pl ay wi t h Ben.

But l i ke I sai d before, Ben was so ol d t hat he j ust l i ked t o nap al l day. Bot h t he dogs sl ept wi t h t he ani m al s i n t he barn. One day, Ben j ust about had i t . He was very angry, and he j ust want ed Herder out of hi s l i fe — but he knew t hat he had t o st and agai nst i t . Herder di dn’t know what was wrong wi t h Ben; Herder di dn't

O nce upon a t i m e, a coupl e nam ed J ohn and Kat e deci ded t o sel l t hei r sm al l

know what was goi ng t o happen t o hi m .

considerabl e pri ce. Movi ng t o t hei r new home, t hey t ook al l of t hei r t hi ngs and t hei r one dog — a bl ood hound whose nam e was Ben. He was very ol d and very wri nkl y, and he was al ways very t i red. Usual l y, when you found hi m , he was nappi ng.

pol e t he l ant ern was on. The l ant ern m oved t o t he end of t he nai l , but i t s t ayed t here. Herder fel t upset and di sappoi nt ed. W hat had he done? He fel l as l eep cryi ng soft l y. Around m i dni ght , Herder woke up t o m ove i nt o a di fferent body posi t i on. He banged i nt o t he pol e and t he l ant ern fel l ont o hi s head, knocki ng hi m unconsci ous. Ben woke up a few m i nut es l at er. He not i ced t hat i t fel t warm er t han usual , a l ot warm er t han usual ; he was sweat i ng.

hom e and m ove i nt o a farm . A farm er sol d hi s farm and ani m al s t o t hem for a

W hen J ohn and Kat e m oved t o t hei r new farm , a di fferent dog was wai t i ng for

t hem ; i t was a l i t t l e t erri er. The coupl e asked t he farm er t he dog’s nam e.

H e sai d, “I never gave hi m a nam e. He j ust woul d run around pl ay wi t h t he

ot her ani m al s. You can nam e hi m . He i s t rai ned; you woul d j ust have t o get hi m t o l earn hi s new nam e.”

O ne ni ght i n t he barn, Ben was i n such a m ood t hat he pus hed Herder agai ns t t he

T hen he saw i t —a fi re t hat was growi ng bi gger and bi gger by t he s econd! He

al so saw Herder passed out on t he fl oor. He t hought t o hi m s el f, “W hat have I done? !? ” He pi cked up Herder wi t h hi s t eet h and brought hi m out s i de. He went t o t he door of hi s m ast ers’ house and he went , “ arrrrooooouuuu .” J ohn cam e rus hi ng out , cal l ed t o hi s wi fe, and she raced t o j oi n hi m . S he saw Herder and i m m edi at el y ran over t o hi m . J ohn and Ben went t o hel p wi t h t he fi re.

W hen t he fi re was put out , Ben went over t o Herder and s t art ed t o howl wi t h

s adnes s . He di d not real i z e t hat Herder had al read y woken and was l i s t eni ng t o Ben's sad howl s. Herder deci ded t o get up. Ben saw t hi s and s t art ed howl i ng wi t h j oy, and he t hought t o hi m sel f, “Thank you, t hank you, t hank yooooooooouuuuuuuu !”

H erder rej oi ced wi t h Ben, J ohn, and Kat e. Ben st art ed t o t el l Herder how

t hankful he was t hat he was okay. He t ol d hi m how he l earned t hat Herder was speci al and t hat he l oved hi m . Herder t hought t hat t hat was t he happi es t m om ent of hi s l i fe. Ben t hought so t oo. “Dream Scape.” Michelle Poprawski, Grade 9

K a t e t h o u gh t o f a n a m e a n d sh e sa i d t o h e r h u sb a n d , “T h e fa r m e r i s r i gh t . He d o e s l i k e t o p l a y wi t h t h e o t h e r a n i m a l s. I e ve n sa w h i m t r yi n g t o h e r d t h e sh e e p ! Le t ’ s c a l l h i m He r d e r ! ”

T h e h u s b a n d a gr e e d wi t h t h e n a m e , a n d so t h e t e r r i e r ’ s n a m e w a s H e r d e r .

War of the Heart

"Once upon a time, in a land where war was nonexistent..." Who am I fooling? There could never be such a land! "Sarah, I brought you something." "I'm coming father." When I had reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my father holding a knife. "Do you like it?" he said. "Why, yes— is it for me?" "Yes, it is. I thought that since I am leaving tomorrow, you might need something to protect your mother and younger brother." "I am well able to take care of them, father," my brother James said, with the great pain of betrayal in his voice. "Calm down, James, it was just a joke," dad replied. "I know," James said, laughing nervously. "Well, you kids ought to get to bed; tomorrow is a big day," father exclaimed. "Father, we are not kids. I'm nineteen and James is “There Lived a Boy Called twenty-three." Private Edwin Jennison.” "James, it is getting late, you two should go to bed," Clare Hernandez, Grade 9 mother scolded. "Ok. Goodnight mother, goodnight father," James and I said. The day that followed day was very gloomy. We all watched father as he left to fight on the Union's side. For the next few months everything was relatively normal, but on April 14th, 1862 my father went missing in action. James and my mother, Susan, were terribly sorrowful; they just assumed he was dead. I, on the other hand, knew he was not, and decided to prove it. The next day, I told my mother and James that I was going to spend a few months with Aunt Margret and Uncle Benjamin, who I then told I was setting off on my journey to find father. Of course, women were not allowed to enlist, so I had only one option—pretend to be a man. It was not easy. I borrowed some of my brother's clothes and hid my face with one of his hats. I was given a gun that I had no idea how to use, but I learned. I was quite the soldier—if I do say so myself. I searched for my father everywhere, asking every Union soldier I came across. Still, he was nowhere to be found. One day, I was in the middle of a brutal battle, and a Confederate had me in his range. I was done for; he shot me and my hat flew off, revealing my gender. Then, he rode away on his horse. He could have Natalie Stubbs, Grade 9

killed me. Why didn't he? Maybe it was because I was a girl, or because he thought it too easy. I didn't know, but I was determined to find out. I didn't know if he was still going to be alive the next day or not, but I had to know why he spared my life. The next day, I found him by the river getting water for his horse. I crept behind him and cocked my gun, pointing it at his head. "Who are you?" I said. "Who's asking?" "I asked you first." "Collin Tanner. And what might your name be?" "James Foster." "We both know that isn't your real name." "What do you mean?“ "You are not a man. You're the farthest thing I've seen from a man in my life—now, what is your name?" "Sarah Foster. You knew I was a woman and didn't expose me. Why?“ "Because I thought it extremely brave of a woman to fight a man's war." "Is that the same reason you did not kill me?" "No, I was out of bullets.“ "Oh. Well, I guess I'm very lucky.“ "The luckiest—now could you please put the gun down so I can continue tending to my horse?" "Why should I? You would have killed me if you had another bullet." "Fair enough. I guess I'll have to make you put it down." He then grabbed the barrel of my gun with both hands, twisted it out of my grip, and pointed it at me. "Are we done now?" he said "Yes, we are done.“ I could not stop thinking about that moment for weeks. I would see him every now and again, but that was it. About a week after my run in with Collin, I finally found my father. "Sarah?!" "Father!“ We embraced and then—BANG!!! "NOOOO!“ A Confederate was standing right in front of me, about to shoot once more. With my father dead in my arms, Collin rode up on his horse and shot the Confederate. My father was dead, right after I had just found him. I could not hold back the tears. Collin comforted me and helped me bury my father. I was surprised at his act of great kindness.

“He could

have killed me. Why didn’t he?”

"Thank you so much, Collin. How could I ever repay you?" "No need—your happiness is all the reward I need." "Why are you being so nice to me, when a few weeks ago you would have killed me?" "I am not quite sure. I think I might have developed... feelings for you." I was shocked at this reply. I had developed feelings of my own as well... But a Confederate and a Union? That was impossible. "I know, it sounds obscure... But I can't stop thinking about you and what happened by the river.“ "I know, me either, but I am fighting on the Union side, and you are fighting on the Confederate side. It is forbidden." "It is not forbidden; it just makes a better love story.“ He then grabbed my face in his hands, and kissed me. The war soon ended, and I went looking for Collin. I searched everywhere, but I could not find him; I thought him for dead. We had won the war, but to me and only me, it felt as if we had lost. I went to the river and cried. How could this have happened? Why? Then I heard the sound of someone coughing up water. And there in the river, I saw him wounded. I ran to him. "Collin, you're alive!" You could see the effects of the war all over him, but to me, he was perfect. "Yes, but barely." "Everything is OK. I will get you back to safety.“ He was quite heavy for me to carry alone, but I managed. After getting him to the hospital, I never left his side. When he was healed and awake, he called for me. "Sarah?" "Yes? "How would you feel about being my wife?" “A Kiss of Courage.” "I would feel extremely lucky. You?" Maygan Flood, Grade 12 "The luckiest."

I rolled my eyes and stuck the letter back into the envelope. I tossed it onto my desk, dismantled

Rebecca George, Grade 11

she was one of the highest ranking in his army. She stood guard of the kingdom, doing unfortunate deeds that needed to by done within the town. Her brunette curls hung down her back like a long flow of rippling waves. Her eyes were a striking hazel, holding a dark past, a past that once almost had her killed. That girl is me.

went into town on foot, stopping by the police hut to pick up the identity sheet. I looked at the sketch and crumpled it up, tossing it into the well. My eyes searched the town's people. I walked slowly, cautiously, keeping an eye out. Of course, I spotted the wanted form in the alleyway, hidden in darkness. The guy caught sight of me and took off running. I dropped the cloak and took off after him, running faster without it. The townspeople scattered and locked their doors, seeing the thief being chased by one of the kings men. It left him no place to hide. He ran into the woods surrounding the town, his footprints leaving a trail in the snow. My legs started burning against the cold and this ongoing run. The criminal tripped over a snow covered branch, and his fall allowed me to catch up. I drew my sword and pointed it at him as he rolled over. He threw his hands up in surrender.

I would have never thought I'd still be alive, let alone so high in the army. Maybe it was their

"Please don't kill me," he pleaded.

nce upon a time, there was a girl in a kingdom. She stood tall by the king, being that

way of punishing me for all I had done, throwing me out there in hopes of killing me. I had a very sketchy past, losing my parents to robbers at a young age of twelve. I spent my time surviving on my own with no known relatives — if any of them are alive. I lied, I cheated, I stole. I was a thief, lying my way through my life in order to live. I was caught in my lies and arrested. I was brought to the King's palace, a place full of riches sitting off to the side of the thriving town. I was to be beheaded, but was proven worthy of the Majesty's use. Maybe being sarcastic and venomous wasn't always a bad thing, but it wasn't necessarily good; it had ironically gotten me out of my death. I was put into training, where I fought for my own life. If I failed and was proven useless, I would be killed. I took every hit thrown at me, succeeding in my training. A few months passed in my position of the army until I was ranked to a higher position, the position I still hold today.

was sitting in my chambers, sharpening my sword, getting ready for whatever tasks they had planned for me, when a knock rang out and a messenger popped in. "Ms. Tabernakulov," he said, "I have a message for you from the head of the King's soldiers."

stuck my sword into the hilt strapped on my back and went over to the messenger. I grabbed the envelope, no question it would have today's task inside. I ran my hands over the red wax seal, the imprint of the kingdom's crest molded inside. "Thank you," I said to the messenger, "that will be all."

bowed at me and scurried off, shutting the door behind him. I watched him go, making sure he was gone before opening the letter.

A house was broken into this morning in the town of Khabalov. The thief was not caught by the town's police, but was identified. Thought you would like to take this one since it's up your alley. ~ Sergeant E.

the hilt on my back, grabbed my jacket and slipped it on. I geared up, strapping my needed weapons through my outfit—including the knife I kept in my heelless boots. I grabbed my cloak off the hook before exiting my room. Once out of the kingdom, I wrapped the cloak around my body and lifted the hood. I had more chances of catching the thief if I was disguised; I didn't want to freak out the townspeople.

"You broke into someone's house," I said, "why?" "Because," his face softened, losing his fear. "You and I both know why. If you don't have a family, don't have a home, you need to survive by stealing." "I am well aware of the method," I growled, "but you don't get caught — or then you get killed."

"You know it's a lot harder to survive without a family," he said. "Especially when the one you thought you could trust switches to the other side, and then they start chasing you. Isn't that funny?" "You kept hidden for too long," I muttered, "I did what I did to survive." "As did I."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him before sliding my sword into my hilt. "You're going to run deep into the forest and you are going to jump into the nearest lake. If you survive it, I won't kill you."

smirk spread across his face as he looked at me, his hands waiving in the air in a nonchalant form. "Whatever you say, baby sis." "Now go—" I nodded forwards, "before I behead you."

grabbed my outstretched hand and stood up, brushing the snow off of his clothes and kissed me on the cheek. "Keep it up, you're doing well." "Yeah, yeah," I waved him off. He took off into the woods and towards the lake. I knew he would survive; I watched until his form disappeared into the trees. I turned towards the kingdom, where I'd lie and say he jumped in the lake; I would lie and say I watched my brother die.

2 Once Upon a Time In Days Gone By

“At the Lake.” Manar Al-Badarneh, Grade 10

“Ready, Set, Love.” Bayan Al-Badarneh, Grade 11

Once Upon a Time “He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not.” Lorainne Keenan, Grade 5

Of Innocent Childhood, and the Implications of Growing Up Abby Douglas, Grade 8

Once Upon an Earlier Time

Abigail Perry, Grade 9

Once upon an earlier time… A man sang rhyme after rhyme. He sang to his wife How lovely his life. He serenaded her day after day. He was sure forever his love would stay. This was thought to be true, As sure as the sky is blue, Until forever came to an end. He would never sing again.

Once upon an earlier time…

Dance now, my wounded quandary. Delve into dead opinions Long forgotten. Daring Dare to find yourself; Pursuing Pursue the punishments and terrors, Of which I succumb. Once or thrice, I drown out my sorrows in a benevolent illusion Of a once upon a time happily ever after. Disdain upon my dreary eyes, in which I spot a dream, A child's face, filled with wonder and passion emotion, A naive outlook on what used to be the was my world. Whimsical music and divine companionship, Where all that mattered were the colours colors of your crayons and holidays. Chase the pavements of the past as they roll underneath you, Aiming to knock you down, As if you are running upon glass in place of gravel. Memories pushing you farther further into the hole, Built by others and waiting, Always waiting, For the day you'd grow up. They put your name on a plaque, Hand you credentials, And then reality sets in, And it's intimidating, Yet welcome. Independence, A mere measurement of how far you have come, A subject never truly understood, Until it's the most defining trait of your being.

“Untitled.” Megan Mcmillan, Grade 9

Once upon a time, We were but mere shells of ourselves, Questioning If our outlook on life was more warped then, Or now.

“Mother and Her Child.” Trinity Irwin Grade 7 Every Good Story Begins With “Once Upon A Time.” Skyler Klokus, Grade 9 “Enchanted Forest.” Krista Smith, Grade 6 “Leaving Footsteps Behind.” Andrea Rivera Mercado, Grade 11

Once Upon a Color: To My Dear and Absent Father Anaregina Frias, Grade 12

If fairytales were real, then “lived happily ever after” would be in my mother’s last name. If I still believed in the leprechauns, happiness would come with no tangible cost If inertia, fear, and absent soul fulfillment didn’t tear the equilibrium that puts our individual worlds at ease, Life would be black and white, with no purpose of a journey. But as I sit here, full of inertia and one million thoughts all with their own color of a mood, I realize you’re right when you say I am destined for great things. I understand you don’t say that because you are my father, But because you’ve lived your life in multicolor. But when emotions blended with situations that conveyed nothing but black, I stood back and saw my life frozen in an old picture, empty of all pretty hues. Pessimistic passiveness began to govern my mind, I saw no color. How can your little girl live in a colorless world? How can she expect you to give her world color again? So to my dear and absent father, I write this to tell you I’ll find color with or without you. Be it black, be it gray, yellow, red, pink or blue. I’ll have lived my life in multicolor. In love, in internal happiness, and in the sort of peace that happy dreams instill in our sleep and blend with those passionate dreams that will make life worth the entire colorful journey.

“A Walk in the Woods.” Laura Tucker, Grade 9

Cailey Weaver Kayti Sieber Carlisle Ziesig

Erika Wright, Grade 8 Oh, the sad man smiles and says his goodbyes. Oh, the sad man whimpers as he starts to cry. Love is lost in times of war, And crying skies may leave you wanting more. Heartbreaks are for those that start up new, So I pity the man who has two. But darkness in the night may leave you with a fright, So be careful during midnight. Raindrops will fall and the city will turn blue, But I’ll never forget my memories with you; Forget about my dreams or forget about my hopes. When you’re gone, how will I cope? “Earl Grey Brew.” Dominique Yatchum, Grade 12

“A Peaceful Balance.” Bayan Al-Badarneh, Grade 11

“Blossom Beauty.” Jessica Youngblood, Grade 9 “Black and Blue.” Samantha Stanworth, Grade 10

“An Enchanted Rose.” Cristi McKee, Grade 8

“Follow Your Heart.” Lorraine Keenan, Grade 5

Once Upon a Time Sarah Gedamke, Grade 11 Whispers of dreams float about, strains of a forgotten yesterday. A reminder of what could have been, once upon a time. When days were bright and hopes were high, nothing could stop me, Once upon a time.

I walk through the night Feeling heavy. The very rain falls along with tears. Both form thick puddles on the ground; Thick, ruby red puddles.

It seemed a cruel joke to see the desires of others. I could do it too, but not in my time.

The souls of the forgotten swarm in these puddles of sorrow. The rain is heavy, pushing me down to the earth. The wailing wind echoes with lonely cries. The very ground traps the forms that once housed these souls. Until those forms melt to become the ground itself. Lost: free, but lost.

A hand reached out to me, promising a better life. I’m getting to that point, one day at a time.

Memories faded and possessions were forgotten Until they were nothing more than a name. The very air we breathe is the breath of the forgotten; The breath of the lonely and the lost. I cast a glance at the tombstones of the nearby graveyard; Nothing more than a rock with a name on it. One name among the many forgotten names. The forgotten are watching those who remember them And those who don’t.

All that was good will one day be again. Because the Healer restores, one day at a time.

“Across The Bridge .” Bayan Al-Badarneh, Grade 11

“Running Down My Face .” Brooke Turner, Grade 11

The weight of failure consumed all I believed. I could be all I wanted, but not in my time.

The Lost and F o r g Laura Tucker, Grade 9 o t t e n

Eventually, we will all be forgotten. Eventually, we will all be no more than a name. So while your body still does the bidding of your soul, Make your name more than just letters.

Cailey Weaver, Grade 10 The sun is a fleeting thing It rises in the morning It lights our world as the day goes by We work in its shadow and revel in its rays But sometimes we want to cry When the last light of day slips through our fingers.

No matter how poor a person is Hope still lives in the ground they walk upon The air flowing through their lungs. It keeps the world round and spinning around the sun. It is the basis of happiness and love and the one thing in life someone can never lose unless they let it slip through their fingers. But even then They can always catch it Before it hits the ground.

Love is very rare It's a feeling we all should share Something that binds us to one another But all too often in our lives we do nothing As the love we should always feel for each other Slips through our fingers. Life is a gift to us all It flows through the air we breathe And dies in our tears when we grieve It's in the food we eat, the wine we drink But the laughter stops sometimes And life comes to a standstill But unless we catch it in our fists It will slip through our fingers. Happiness comes and goes When one will feel it, no one knows. It is unpredictable as a tornado It can so easily be muffled by storm clouds When we let our happiness slip through our fingers.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Glimpse of Light.â&#x20AC;? Austin Williams, Grade 9

nce Upon a Time.. There was you, and there was I. You and I, my friend, are far different Yet emotionally alike. Two different bodies, Though one same heart. An intimate connection No other could understand. You worry about having my back Because you are certain that I have yours. I am selfless now, And so are you.

n c e U p

When I’m sad you make me laugh With your unusual humor. When you cry, I pick up each tear And turn them into drops of joy. Can’t you see? We complement each other! You and I, my friend, are bonded By heartstrings of deep friendship. So follow me, that I’ll follow you. Be my once upon a time, that I’ll be yours. Remember, A friend is a second self.

Your Idea of a Fairytale Samantha Morris, Grade 11

To you, her life is a fairytale Simply because it’s a story about a princess. Your storybook holds mystical words, telling tales of fantasy.

Her world is the epitome of grace, cunning, heroism, and creativity.

But in fact, this is her dreary life: She lives deep in the chambers of a cold, stone structure; Frozen to the world, never to see

The stories you read of how her life should be.

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When attackers come, no one lives through the fight.

When she meets the prince, she wants to cry

Andrea Rivera Mercado, Grade 11

Because everyone is happy about her lack of a choice. Her fiery words hide under her tongue; she never had a voice. So you see, maybe the drawbridge is meant to come crashing down,

And it would not be so terrible if the “protective” moat dried out. Maybe the locks don’t prevent Prince Charming from coming in, Maybe all they do is keep her trapped within.

“Two Sides of Our Story.” Andrea Rivera Mercado, Grade 11 “Waterkissed.” Moira Conley, Grade 10

“Storybook House.” Hannah Hansen, Grade 9

“The Dream House.” Haley Ignace, Grade 8 “Autumn’s in the Air.” Manar Al-Badarneh, Grade 10

“German Winter.” Brooke Lyonnais, Grade 12

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“Iowa Lane.” Michelle Beadle, Grade 11

“Bridge to Wonder.” Rebecca Raymer, Grade 8

“Running Waters.” Ana Lynch, Grade 10

In a land far away...

By Sabrina, Grade 12 Maybe it's because I grew up living in Walt Disney’s town of Celebration that I've always believed in the impossible. I mean, who would think a hippopotamus could look graceful dancing ballet? It certainly appears that way in Disney’s 1940 film "Fantasia." My tall and thin physique most closely resembles that of a giraffe, so I believe that giraffes can be ballet dancers too. My mom enrolled me in ballet lessons when I was just three years old, in the hope that I would develop good posture and grace. This then grew into a deep love of ballet, which I continue to have today. However, there was a time in my life when I gave up on my passion. When I was ten years old, I attended a ballet school that did not appreciate my lanky, non-muscular figure. My ballet teachers bullied me, with one calling me "baby giraffe" and another calling me "angel-hairpasta." These comments embarrassed me, and the other girls just laughed. I still remember excusing myself from class to go cry in the bathroom. Even though I came to class, loved dancing, worked hard, and had a good attitude, I was not improving and building muscle as quickly as the other girls. That same year, we received a letter from the school stating that I could not return to the studio until I had a doctor’s note testifying that I was not anorexic. My parents and doctor thought this was crazy since they knew how much I ate. We provided the letter. I pushed harder and harder to please the teachers, until I ended up spraining my ankle. Their response was that I was not strong enough to be a ballet dancer, and that I never would be. Sadly I quit, realizing my body had limitations that would hinder my progress.

I became depressed and missed dancing. Why was I stuck with a tall,

lanky body that prevented me from pursuing my dream? Why was life not like a Disney film, where an animal of any shape or size could be graceful? I found myself constantly daydreaming about ballet. Whenever I heard classical music, I would choreograph steps in my mind. My love of ballet strengthened my resolve to keep going. I decided to try again and never give up on my passion. The next year, my family had the opportunity to live in Australia because of my dad’s job. I bravely auditioned for and was accepted into Australia’s prestigious national ballet school. They had a different predilection there and valued my beauty and delicate frame. From this experience, I learned to embrace my strengths and believe in myself as everyone has different preferences. When we returned to America, I once again mustered the courage to return to ballet class at a new dance studio. They did not criticize my weight, height, or strength, but instead focused on improving my ability individually. Within the next few years, I received a ballet scholarship at one of the nation’s top dance conventions and performed my first competitive solo. After one recital, several mothers came up to me and said that I was their daughter’s role model, and that their daughters aspired to dance like me someday. Seeing the girls’ excited faces further motivated me to persevere and never give up. As an assistant teacher, I also encouraged each child to be the best dancer she can be. Will I be a prima ballerina one day? Probably not. Will you ever see a real giraffe or hippo dancing gracefully in a tutu? Probably not. My body is still as lanky as ever, but ballet is in my heart. Studying this beautiful art form has taught me grace and confidence, along with discipline and collaboration. I am resolved to never give up dancing.

“Pointe in Time.” Kara Friers, Grade 8

Happily Ever After Mary Katherine Collins, Grade 11

Remember the first time you opened your eyes. The brightness, the doctors — the sudden change of everything. You wanted to scream your head off, and you did. But even more than that, you wanted to go back, because once upon a time, your surroundings had been blacker than the darkest night, as peaceful and safe as you wanted them to be. Far safer than all the clutching hands that were snatching at you now. Begging, trying, only wanting to hold you for a moment. And then…it’s gone. Eighteen months later, you sit in your playpen watching the world revolve around you faster than a spinning circus. The clownish toys to keep you happy, the lions and acrobats that come and go, the jugglers trying to balance your life with theirs. Plates spinning on sticks, plates crashing to the ground, and you're left alone as they scurry to pick up the pieces without dropping more. As you sit there perched in the windowsill, waiting for someone to have time, you can’t help but want to be able to do it alone. At least then you wouldn’t be forgotten as glass falls and shatters around you. At six years old, just like all the other kids, you've decided what you wanted to do with your life. Boys wanted to be firemen and superheroes, girls wanted to be mommies and princesses. Everyone wanted to be “all grown up.” It just wasn’t fair. The older kids had a bigger playground. They got to wear their backpacks filled with books. They got uniforms. And what did the little kids like you get? Plastic lunchboxes with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches inside. Your class sang songs and drew pictures; the older kids did full-on plays and brought their pets to school. It wasn’t fair. If only you were bigger.

Boy, you couldn’t wait for them to leave. Peace and quiet are a rare commodity. “Grow up already!” you shouted at the full schedule. They did. Trains, planes, boats, and horses were soon lost to girlfriends, dreams, plans, and college. Eighteen years were passing by, and you were only focused on the nineteenth. One day, you woke up to your youngest packing his bags. As he kissed you goodbye, you cried for the very first time. That happily ever after you were so certain would come with each advance of time, with each change of seasons, never did. You had missed the very fairy tale ending you were staring out the window in expectation of. Your prince isn't coming, he already did. That white horse you were so certain was ahead had been trotting beside you the whole time, just waiting for you to notice. How good those times had been. The six year old who had nothing to worry about except a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The opportunity to make something of yourself as a teenager. Because, after all, all those kids wanted was someone to lead them and show them the way out of their black hole. The ability to live your own life and be whoever you wanted, not having to worry about packing lunches and chaperoning field-trips. The childhoods of three boys who looked just like their mommy. No matter how hard you held on to the clock, trying to reverse the years, trying to take it back, trying to relive that happily ever after. You had missed it — your once upon a time.

Time passed, and before you knew it, you were sitting in Algebra Two. The girl on the right was your BFF — the fifth one this year. The boy winking at you from across the class was your Prince Charming. The boy you would “never kiss,” or so your mom told you. School was torture. The hallways were a battleground that only the fit survived. Drugs, gangs, and alcohol filled the void of the dreams that had been thrown in the dirt. Nobody “didn’t get hurt.” Pain replaced the happy days that your grade had left behind, back when you were all innocent. Everyone’s parents were getting divorced, everyone had been called names like “ugly” and “floozy.” Girls lined the bathrooms, puking up their food. Boys shared boxes of blades to ease the pain. You hated it. Everyone did. Two more years of this madness…. The bell rang and you raced out the door. Off toward the future, never once glancing back. College — day one. You locked eyes with a boy unloading his life as you unloaded yours. Little did either of you know that you wouldn’t leave each others’ side for the next three years. But soon, “friends” wasn’t good enough for you. They say the worst thing you can do is fall in love with your best friend. You found out the hard way. You tried dating, but somehow he knew before you that he wasn’t the half to your whole. You wanted him, he wanted….not you. He left. A splintered heart and baseball bat were all he left behind. You wrapped your heart in band-aids and used the bat to protect yourself, in case anyone else dared whisper “I love you.” Those hateful words tortured you just like the memory of falling to your knees and grabbing his hand, begging him not to go. They stung like the last time he had pressed his lips to yours and held you like he cared. You wanted to run far from his lies and his existence, as far as your gallon of gas would take you. Before you could, he transferred schools. Somehow, that punctured heart learned to love again as you stared into the future — wishing, hoping, waiting for the day when his name wouldn’t trigger memories. Time whirled past faster than a cannonball in the Civil War, and before you knew what hit you, you were engaged. Your wedding day was the best day of your life, but you were already looking ahead again. You were thinking about kids. Everyone told you not to rush it, but you wanted something to be proud of, instead of living in the shadows. Your husband wanted a son. He got three.

“The Essence of Time.” Shazia Nadeem, Grade 11

My Once Upon a Time Shanice Archer, Grade 9

Have you wanted something to happen so much that you think about it daily, imagining different versions of it? I have. It's my once upon a time; my once upon a future day that will never happen. But I can still think it, can't I? Even if it's wrong, can't I still think it? Can't I still imagine the fairy tale ending, even if I know it will never come true? I don't know. Frankly, I don't care. My once upon a time will be the thing I keep to myself as a guilty pleasure. What? Did you think I'd tell you my once upon a time? Fine, fine. I'll tell you, but only if you swear to keep it to yourself. Is this right? I don't know. I don't know you, you don't know me. So, you can keep my secret and continue to read. Once upon a time there was a handsome prince. Okay scratch that. Too cliché? Once upon a time there was a really popular cheerleader. No, that's too overrated... Once upon a time there was a simple girl. She sat at the edge of a tree in her favorite park, and every day on her way home she would write in her journal. She was always too occupied with her journal to realize her nearby admirer. Everyday he would sit by a tree drawing her in his sketch book. Every detail was precise. Every eyelash, every finger nail, every article of clothing; everything was precise. (Is this better? Too cheesy? Too hopelessly romantic? Fine, let's bring it down to reality a bit.) She wrote about her imperfections, her flaws, her scars, what she thought people thought of her. He drew her beauty, her figure, his image her of perfection was drawn in his book everyday as he admired her from afar. But nobody's perfect, right? Could there be an idea of perfection that is planted in all of our heads, and when we see someone who meets those requirements, we just can't let them pass? Maybe, maybe not. But today, he was going to check out her perfection up close. He walked towards her, pencil in hand, and asked her ever so lowly, "May I draw you?" She was confused. "Why would he want to draw me?" she thought, yet she nodded in agreement anyways. They sat for hours talking, drawing, reading; it was as if they already knew each other. But up close, he realized something different about her. He saw a smile he had imagined to be brighter. He heard her insecure laugh as he made a joke. He drew her painfully bright eyes as she read a book that contained all she wished was her reality. In that moment, he knew what perfection was. It was her. It was her flaws, her scars, her pain. It was her unawareness of the beauty she contained within herself, the beauty in her voice, how nice she was. She asked to see it when he was done. All he said was, "I want it to be perfect." She responded with, "Nothing is perfect. We all have things that taint our appearance, or our minds. Nothing is perfect."

He laughed because she didn’t know. She didn’t know what he was thinking. She didn’t know her value or her beauty. She didn’t know her perfection. He wanted to make sure she knew it. (Look, I'm a hopeless romantic. I can't help it! Don't laugh, just read.) He left that day without showing her his drawing. The next day, she came to her favorite reading spot once again, but this time, she found her eyes wandering. She was looking for him. All she heard was "Psstt. Psstt! Over here." She looked all around, but he was no where to be found. His voice came again, "Not there, here! Look up." She looked up; she was speechless. She stood up and backed away from the tree so that every branch was in eye view. Every drawing he had ever drew of her hung upon the branches and leaves of the tree. He climbed down and named all of the paintings. Each called "Perfection." He had to explain. "There is not one person that doesn't have bad memories, flaws, or insecurities." He started, "It's our imperfections that make us all perfect. One person is never the same as another, but they all share one thing in common - their perfection. I needed you to see what I see when I look at you. Do you like it?" He looked at her with sincere eyes, only wanting to hear a sincere answer. Okay, my once upon a time isn't finished yet. I'm still thinking of what to answer with. Don't judge! Did you finish your once upon a time yet? I didn't think so. We have our whole lives to finish our stories. I know it'll never happen, but it's fun to imagine. Remember, you swore to keep it a secret! Why don't you tell me yours?

“Girl in Dress.” Veronica Torres, Grade 8

Forgive Me for My Make-Believes Kathlyn Alexis, Grade 12

Never Has To End

(My Lovely Tower)

3 Once Upon a Time

The tall building behind my backyard holds many memories for me. Despite the odd peeling of the cheap china walls in its rooms and the distinct circular shape, I’ve always believed the building to be magical and possibly omnipresent, like the depth-less eye that sometimes forms in the clouds if you squint really hard to see it. Despite the storms and hurricanes brought on by Miami’s subtropical weather, I’ve never seen the building break or even shake on its foundation. It has always been there, so strong, similar to a warrior solemnly preparing for battle, its gaze never deterring from its enemies. But don’t be mistaken! The building may be a warrior, but within its hardened heart is a soft delicate layer, like that of a coconut. I like to call it the ‘Tower’ because it reminds me of a lighthouse that helps stranded civilians find their way back home. I remember back when my bedtime was around eight o’ clock, I’d look outside and see couples dancing on its highest floor; elegant couples, I’d like to think, fancy ties and expensive suits meeting classic dresses, dancing the oldest movements of humankind, swaying and making memories like those in an old photograph. Unbeknownst to the couples, their parties always enchanted me. What was it like to dance from the very tiptop of my beloved tower? To get a view of the surrounding buildings? To see the ducks and children on the ground look like ants? Was it like heaven? I believed it was as close to heaven as one could get on this earth, but then again, I was only a foolish girl back then--a dreamer who wished for beauty in the ugliest of things.

“Through the Storybook.” Erica Chyr, Grade 11

“Time in the Heart of London.” Emily Jatczak, Grade 11

“The Lost Firefly.” Hana Obissi, Grade 10

8:15 “The Forgotten Path.” Jordan Bullock, Grade 9

The Days

Adrian Salgado, Grade 12

Days pass by, infinite timeBirds fly to the east, west, north, south Around the magnificent earth, chirping Until they find their food. Humans disperse throughout the streets like a mountain of ants, Wondering what they will bring about, While animals only sit and gaze. Everything is rushed until the bright, white circle appears In the dark sky, signaling to us that the hours have vanished. The night experience is only a pause Until we realize that sunrise has come. Time is time, but human time is embedded in the skin, marked and reflected ̶ As in a tree’s dry withering limbs…

The sun rises over the trees, mist falls. The time reads 8:15. Frozen still, the bustling townspeople carry on their lives, like tracks On a broken record. The day repeats; sun rises and mist falls. The time reads 8:15. Yet again frozen, the townspeople carry on, doomed forever to repeat the cycle Of suffering mediocrity. Unbeknownst to them, lies deep within them the secrets, The reminisces of enchanted lives once lived, The connections between islands of light, Amidst oceans of dark, Now forgotten. The time reads 8:15.

“Mermaid Isle.” Alexa, Grade 10

By Jada, Grade 9 Cailey Weaver, Grade 10

Shadows block the light away, For here is where the sun won’t shine. I shut my eyes in fear again And pray that sleep will soon be mine. I will not dare to lift my head; I can’t imagine what I’d see. I think of how right now I’m in The last place I would like to be.

It doesn’t matter what they say, I know their stories are not true. For monsters really do exist, I know it ‘cause I’ve seen them too.

“Soldier in Hiding.” Stephanie Maciel, Grade 11

They pretend that they are shadows Nonchalantly floating by, Sneaking around my little room And scaring me until I cry.

But when I see a little ray Through the pale curtains in my room, When drops of sun light up my world And steal away the night’s cold gloom,

I know that all will be okay; It is what gets me through the night. Just knowing that in the morning I’ll get to see that shining light.

The sunshine blocks my fears away, For now is when the shadows hide. I leap into the morning ‘cause I know that life is on my side.

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“Off in the Distance.” Haley Ignace, Grade 8

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Change for the Better Jasmine M. Duckworth, Grade 10

Why are certain people full of hate and some people are full of joy why can’t we all love another why is this world full of crime. It’s time for a change. Time. Time! We need time to change. things can’t stay the same if you want change act like you want change don’t ask America to change if you’re going to stay the same don’t complain if you’re not willing to change we are all sisters and brothers regardless of our skin color so stop killing one another let’s love what happened to love don’t love by what you see but by what you feel. Feel. Feel the pain it’s real we ask for a change to be seen in a better way to be taken seriously but do we take ourselves seriously or are we the racial joke. Joke to every other race because we ask for so much and do so little don’t shoot don’t kill don’t let them categorize us because of our skin color that person he just shot was his brother oh yes they are different skin colors but we are all god’s children

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so let’s love each other god didn’t make this world for us to kill one another to bully each other to dislike someone for the shade of their skin we are not our skin we are our soul that’s within the skin we are not are facial features we are not the clothes we wear we are not our bank accounts turn off the lights you can’t see skin what do you do then you don’t want a person to categorize you so don’t do it yourself you don’t want to be called a name so stop responding to it Change. Change you before you expect the world to. if we all Change for the better this world will get better. Once upon a time things were not like this. The rage that people in this world have is insane we need change we need love and we all need compassion. So if I could wish upon a shooting star I’d wish for world peace and for us all to unite as one. Forget color forget social status let’s all hold hands and come together.

“Of Crayons and Holidays.” Abby Douglas, Grade 8

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Fall- work Winter- work Spring- work Summer- work Mondays- work Tuesdays- work Wednesdays- work Thursdays- work Fridays- work Saturdays- work Sundays- work 9 am- work 11 am- work 3 pm- work 5 pm- work 8 pm- work 12 am- work 3 am- work

Modern Day Soup Stephanie Castro, Grade 10

The bugs work, the moon works, the plants work, and we work. The streets work, the TV works, the microwaves work, and we work. The factories work, the lights work. We overpower ourselves, and our minds go blank with the natural sciences and go green with technology. The remote control key combinations pour into our minds while the science of butterflies flutter out. Once upon a time, our minds were packed with fairy-tales in big, dusty books of dolphins and mermaids - but now, we work.

“Nothing But the Ticking of a Clock.” Savannah Driskell, Grade 12

Megan Kincaid Isabella Wagner “Hero’s Fall.” Isabella Wagner, Grade 9

Stephanie Castro Savannah Driskell

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Another

Megan Kincaid, Grade 12

The way you looked at her is how you used to look at me. I saw all your new pictures and you looked so happy.

My deepest desire is for you to be content. If she is better than me, please, have no regrets.

You did the things we used to and went where we went. Same date, same memory – but with another it’s spent.

I’d beg her to be there for him – never leave his side. Be his source of laughter, his life’s biggest pride.

I’m no longer the reason for that smile or the spark in your brown eyes. Seeing you with her is like death – from it, I can’t hide.

Although it causes pain and I wish I was still yours, I’ll watch you from afar as I try to close this door.

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The Time War Zachary Player, Grade 7

For a boy just entering high school, a discovery like his was unprecedented. He fingered the fob in his pocket. Some nutcase who knew his father, very rich, had come to them with a completely insane proposal. Time travel technology . . . for a hundred trillion dollars. Very rich. Jay’s father was at a loss, though he still wanted the money, of course. Jay had offered to help, but he was completely incredulous when his father informed him about the time travel thing. He still tried, however, as the “GravMaster Jack” had developed antigrav technology, so why wouldn’t he be able to develop time travel technology? A year later he’d developed time travel. But the rich guy tried to kill them. The time device, the Time Fob, saved them. He supposed he shouldn’t have been amazed, really. The people that actually believed him about time travel were seated in the largest hall on Earth. There were surprisingly few people, actually. Some of the governments that had shown up had posted guards to throw out people, though Jay had protested. They hadn’t listened. Jay stood up from his chair backstage, and walked to the podium. He pulled the time fob from his pocket and laid it in front of the hovering camera recording everything. “Thank you all for being here, and assembling at the word of a freshman. I have to admit, I never expected you to,” said Jay, with a laugh. “I will demonstrate this new technology. I have encountered only one problem: it malfunctions around antigrav. Sometimes, the gear loosens on the time dial, letting it spin, or the button depresses. They never happen at the same time, as far as I have seen. Now for the demonstration. Volunteer a moment in your history that nobody else knows about.” A thin man with red hair in the front row spoke. His name was John Ronald Hunt. “What did I say to my wife as we walked across the parking lot, ten minutes late? That would have been five minutes ago.” Jay wound the fob back seven minutes, then jogged offstage. He vanished, then appeared offstage, seven minutes earlier. He sprinted to the parking lot and lay in wait for the man. “–probably a crackpot, but it will be fun to dismantle him. Hey, I’m going to ask him what I say to you right now. That’ll be funny, watching him squirm. What was the date of our first dinner together?” “September 21st, of course, five years ago.” “Backwards in Time.” Daniella Welton, Grade 9

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“Eyes.” Cristina Infante, Grade 12

Jay waited until the time machine merged him with his present self again. He nodded to the man. “You said, ‘What was the date of our first dinner together?’, ‘September 21st, of course, five years ago,’ your wife answered.” “Right,” said John Ronald Hunt, his face confused. Then his mouth dropped. “Whoa,” he said. Jay started thanking them all for being there, apologized and said he would not police time traffic, but he would post rules, and if they messed things up, they might mess up the invention of time travel itself. Everything flickered. It was a flicker different from other flickers. It was a time-travel flicker. The fob was malfunctioning because of the antigrav camera, but it was malfunctioning both ways. The dial was spinning, and the jump button was depressing. Antigrav. “I don’t believe this,” he said incredulously. He vanished. He was in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. A blue antigrav ray grabbed the fob from his hand. He saw a soldier using a key fob with a nozzle. The soldier wielded the fob as a weapon, it seemed to Jay. Jay watched the soldier shoot an enemy soldier with the fob. An orb appeared around the enemy soldier, enveloping him, and he flowed forward in time, aging to dust. These fobs didn’t bend time, allowing you to travel from one time to another. Instead, they created anomalies, orbs of fast or reverse time around an enemy, aging them, or making them younger. Age to dust, or become youthful to the point of nonexistence. Jay wanted to use his fob, but it had been taken into the airship above him, with “GravMaster” emblazoned in giant letters on the bottom. Jay looked for a way to get to the airship. An antigrav ray came down from the sky, snatching up a soldier. Jay leapt into the beam. He glided up into the GravMaster ship. He looked around, spotting a thirtyyears-older GravMaster. The fob was at Jay’s feet, so Jay snatched it. “You are young again,” said Jack to Jay, and then, turning to a soldier. “I have my enemy in my grip. Kill him.” The guard raised his antigrav gun, which would crush Jay into the ceiling. Jay remembered the fob, and rolled the dial back thirty years and touched the button. Before the soldier could fire, Jay vanished and reappeared in the auditorium. He grabbed the camera and hurled it away from him so the fob wouldn’t malfunction again. At least he was alive, right? He could stop the GravMaster. He heard a hum and looked up at the ceiling. The ceiling exploded. Jay saw a giant GravMaster airship equipped with lasers hovering above. A laser was hunting for Jay, sweeping through the room. It abruptly reversed back into the ship. A man had appeared with a time fob in hand, and aimed at the airship. “The GravMaster is in there,” he said. “As soon as the reversal finishes, he’ll cease to exist. Sorry about how close that was, but that’s your flaw, not mine. Make it so the fob goes to a specific date and time, instead of a specific amount of time backward or forward,” the man suggested. The reversal finished, and the GravMaster airship vanished as if it had never existed. “I’m Jay Pendine. Goodbye.” The man, Jay Pendine, Jay’s future self, vanished. Thank you, Jay Pendine, thought Jay. Thank you.

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The

King’s Staff

Addison Fluegge, Grade 8

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Softly touching Waiting for her to Go Feeling her Movements under Flesh and Muscle Strong, Powerful Champion’s Daughter Running fast Speeding past Lay down by A peaceful stream Not a worry Not a care Nothing will shatter This moment between Girl and Horse

Addison Fluegge, Grade 8

“A Story Untold.” Sarah, Grade 11 “In the field.” Laura Poots, Grade 10

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A Story of a King Amelia Persad, Grade 9

When you have a dream You don’t let it slip between your fingers When someone digs a ditch You don’t fall in it because your friend tells you to fall But when someone puts doubt in you Why do you believe their words? And when someone tells you that you failed Why do you give up? Because even though you feel tired And even though you feel weak You just want to give up You got to find who you are Always remembering Once Upon A Time You were a King and When you woke up You’re Still a King!

“Envy.” Dominique Yatchum, Grade 12

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Fairy Tales Bryce King, Grade 10

Ana Lynch, Grade 10

They dream of chance and joy, Villain's plans to destroy, Happy endings for all, Spinning at the ball. Sly Faeries and sprites, Nymphs to choose and die, Elves with wicked grins, Witches radiate sin.

“Autumn Mornings.” Megan Kincaid, Grade 12

Where is reality? Bring back gravity. What is this insanity? What happened to humanity? You're smothered in envy, Of those who don't exist. Your avarice for bliss, Shall always be useless.

You are not Snow White. Don't take the bite. Be content with your life. Don't drive your own knife. You know this is the only way, To be pleasured all your days. Your ending is better, Than any you could read, Take pride in your own success, It's the only fantasy you'll ever need. This be no secret, Take hold and keep it. Your romance is being written, I promise at the end you'll always be smitten.

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115 “Unfocused Wonders.” Santiago Rodriguez, Grade 7

Once Upon A Time Marie Woolley, Grade 11

“Daisy.” Hannah Hansen, Grade 9

She sits in obscurity Wondering where it all commenced Thinking to herself How? Why me? One minute she’s delighted, The next she’s sorrowful She thinks back a couple years, When all was blithe, untroubled, and carefree, One day, my darling, the sun will be out once more One day, it’ll be like once upon a time, When all was buoyant, radiant And that day, my darling, you will be delighted once more.

Destiny

The Nightingale in Mystique Your secrets will never abandon you, Even when friendships tend to fail, Just make sure to remember the truth, Recollections occur by song of the nightingale. When walls start to crumble down, And your fingers begin to fail, Your tears tremble towards the ground, Nearing the moon’s rise edges the nightingale. When the sun forgets to rise the next day, The people frantically beg and hail, Worried expressions fall upon their face, Sorrows returning in time of the nightingale. The raging waters are prophesied, Installed by the quill pen in Braille, Shadows misread the alibis, They perched upon branches of the nightingale.

Hayley Garron, Grade 11 Patterns are scrawled against the midnight sky, Causing all signs of peace to abruptly curtail, There are many wondering thoughts of why, All signs disappeared of the mysterious nightingale. Confusion rose, on the brink of either dusk or dawn, Quick as lightning the east winds prevail, Heavier than ten pound bronze, But as light as feathers of the nightingale. When the bright circle returns, It’s been sixteen days in this jail, It’s as if God’s meeting was adjourned, Into thin air, gone just like the nightingale.

Mikalia Cassidy Flood, Grade 9

Do something to fill All of Eternity. It will be so Very, very Special that all of This age & its T ime shall be entirely And uncontrollably Inspired By something different & New, created By the one & only person who can: You. “When’s It My Turn?” Shanice Archer, Grade 9

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“Sanctuary.” Savannah Driskell, Grade 12

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4 Once Upon a Time Happily Ever (Never) After

Once Upon a Time I Lived a Crazy Limerick By Justin Coopernurse, Grade 7

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Once upon a time, I was listening to some KISS. Then I made a cool r hyme, And my heart was filled with bliss. And now the time is prime to just simply eat a lime.

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“Embrace.” Cristina Infante, Grade 12

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s g n i n

Mo r

Once upon a time there was a story that goes: There’s this girl I know Who hates mornings with a fiery passion. Never, if she has a choice, Will she let the morning sun kiss the lips upon her pretty, pretty face, And there’s this boy who loves them. He wakes up and welcomes the mixing sky Trying to go from black to orange to this indescribable blue And the girl loves him. She loves to make fun of his lazy grin at dinner Since he’s been up since before the sun was. She loves the way he brings her coffee At 7 in the morning And leaves it in the microwave with a note To describe the sunrise so vividly The girl can swear that she’s there with him. Even if it is three in the afternoon and Her pajamas have not been switched out with proper clothes, Even if her hair is still sticking up in places and her glasses Still have smudges left over from the night before. They live like world-apart lovers, Trying desperately to grab a few minutes Here and there Because she is so obviously the moon And he the sun Claudia Rose Davidson And when they rotate they have sworn to never meet. There’s this boy I know Who fell in love with a girl who, Even though she sits just next to him, Lives a million miles away And every night when she’s awake And he sits by his pillow’s side he writes The words to his favourite love songs and Sends them her way to show her that love, Like music, Can last through the jet lagged evenings together. And even through their early morning coffee And descriptions of the sunrises That she will never be able to see.

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Yours

Claudia Rose Davidson, Grade 10

Megan Kincaid, Grade 12

Watching and waiting, in doubt you were praying that I’d forever be yours.

“Great Gatsby.” Hannah Hansen, Grade 9

As time flew by, you continued to try to sway me to be yours. Now growing older, your love began to smolder – fleeting hope that I’d be yours. My affection altered, my mind began to falter “Did I fancy being yours?” No, I do not. “We’re too close,” I thought to risk being yours. Envisaging our possibilities, I yielded to my feelings and aspired to be yours.

Hannah Hansen Megan Kincaid

Implicating my desire, you rekindled your old fire of wishing I’d be yours. Now that we’re together, and knowing it’s forever I take joy in being yours. As we mature and plan out our future, eternally I’ll be yours. I’ll stand by your side till the day I die, declaring I am yours.

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stepping stone HAYLEY GARRON, GRADE 11

Calysta Bobinski, Grade 10

When I was younger, I grew up to believe life was a fairy-tale. All the ladies wore bewitching dresses They all lived a delightful life. But as I walked on the stepping stones of life, I saw that life wasn't an easy fairy-tale. Out in the world there were more frogs than fairies. The ladies dresses were mostly grotesque with a scent of smoke and liquor. The young ones got their knees scraped more from falling onto the hallway ﬂoor by force than by falling during hopscotch. As I ran farther on my stepping stones I wanted to escape because life was no longer a fairy-tale.

But standing here In my silver high heels next to you, I’m starting to see your perspective From a new light. My heels may not be glass slippers, But the closest thing To a fairy-tale that I have is you. I can remember reading All the Cinderellas, Snow Whites, And Peter Pans, The books are still collecting dust On my shelf, of course, But the one thing I never had Was a crown. When you came along though, I decided I didn't really need A crown after all Because I still have you Calling me a princess.

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But then I met you. You weren't a prince charming and I wasn't a princess but that didn't stop the way we acted. All the late nights and early mornings, the 3am movie nights and the 5am cigarettes. As I stopped running down my stepping stone of life I realized life wasn't a fairy-tale But when I met you, I felt like I was reading a book that started off with four magical words "Once Upon A Time"

“White Elegance.” Emily Guzik, Grade 11

“Once Upon A Time.” Jewelisia Fagg, Grade 11

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“Best Friends.” Isabella Wagner, Grade 9 “Raggedy Princesses.” Hyun Jee, Grade 12

“Reach.” Molly Sheets, Grade 8

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“Once Upon A Time There Was a Girl.” Jada, Grade 9

“Modern Lights.” Ariel Trachtenberg, Grade 12

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Hunter Hoover-Watson, Grade 9 When you left, Everything changed, There were no deafening barks, No paw prints on the floor, No throwing balls in the park, No waiting at the door, No slobber on my face, No hair on my shirt, No challenging race,

No licking when I'm hurt, No wet-dog smell, No late-night scramble, No time to dwell, Or twister tangle, You're a million dogs in one, The good, the bad and the fun, You make me smile, You make me cry, Saco, you are part of me, And I'll never have say to say good-bye –

242Megan Kincaid_Squirrel.jpg

“Over the Waters.” Erika Wright, Grade 8

Vida Svahnstrom, Grade 8

Gleaming Savior

In times past, the future seemed bleak. My outlook on life narrow, My vision little more than a wisp of smoke. Long ago, comfort was sparse, Nourishment lacking, excitement nonexistent. Others beside me bellowed and moaned; And like some, my grasp on hope had dissipated. But a fleeting moment did once appear— One that was safe, radiant, and affectionate. And I clutched it, I held it close, As if I knew what was to come. Some time ago I was adopted, Never again to feel lost or lethargic. I found my place, my purpose, my home. Now I have a family to care, But still millions await their once upon a time, Their happily ever after.

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“Squirrel.” Megan Kincaid, Grade 12

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“Man with a Fox Mask.” Savannah Driskell, Grade 12

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“Fairy Tale Forest.” Freddy Viera, Grade 11

“Victorian Library.” Brittney Waldrop, Grade 9 “From a Bird’s Eye View.” Kathlyn Alexis, Grade 12

“A Freezer’s Frost.” Shazia Nadeem, Grade 11

“Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth.” Parker Gentry, Grade 5

“I LIke Books.” Brittney Waldrop, Grade 9

“Framed Current.” Santiago Rodriguez, Grade 7 “Owl Enchantress.” Kaitlyn Colon, Grade 11

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Farewell My Loved Ones

Kyandreia Jones, Grade 11

Trinity Irwin, Grade 7

There once was a girl who only held love in her crooked heart

Until one day a boy came in like a cannon and blew it apart. Now the girl's heart is a scrapper that fights everyday for its right to beat. Now the girl's heart is a rebel functioning without love and rising above defeat. Now the girl's heart sees love and hides it can't take another blow like the last one nor will it try. "But what good is a heart if one can't love with it?" The girl asked herself. "What good is love if you don't love yourself?" another voice retorted. The girl recalls the fairytales her parents used to read to her. "Once Upon A Time…" she was always hooked on the first four words. Though, once upon a time chivalry wasn't as dead as it is today. Though, once upon a time boys didn't burn their love into hearts like a cigarette in an ash tray. Though, once upon a time girls didn't go to sleep crying as they cradled broken hearts and confused minds. Though, once upon a time Prince Charming wasn't so hard to find. The girl would rather bite a poison apple than bite into the poisoned love she consumed from her boy. The girl would rather chase midnight than stay awake with a tear-stained face. The girl would rather let down her hair and hope a handsome beau would climb up than give a boy her life for him to disrupt. The girl would rather live a fairy-tale than go through life realizing the boy she loved didn't love her back.

Along this path I walk alone, Awaiting my prince charming to come. Others say I am quite sad, But only some know that I am waiting. They say I could never see him again But in my heart he rests. I lay awake all through the night, The heaviness growing in my chest. Never had they known him Quite as well as I; But he welcomes them with open arms, Yet they act as though they are shy. I stay here, but no longer am; My inner self floats above. Farewell my loved ones; I soar away, as beautifully as a dove.

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“Once Upon a Time.” Lindsey Sanders, Grade 8

“Ember.” Jessica Olivier, Grade 12

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Salt Water Swole My Eyes Jasmine M. Duckworth, Grade 10

Once upon a time, I was afraid to cry. Hid my tears, wept in my pillow, nothing but silent cries. No one was there, but of course you care? No, I’m not crying. Salt water swole my eyes. It's so cold, but we're in the month of June. Play no happy tunes, I want to listen to those sad blues. Close my eyes, dream up a place where I can cry. I just need you to hold and console me, so why are you letting go of me? No, I’m not crying. Salt water swole my eyes shut! So I guess I'll dream up a happily ever after: Once upon a time, I cried and you didn't judge. You made my pain go away. You held me until I gently fell asleep, you could hear me softly weep. Yes, I’m crying. Salt water did swell my eyes. I can’t lie. Once upon a time, I was afraid to shed a tear, but that’s all that seems to be near.

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It's funny how one tear can come from so much pain and how one tear can come from joy. When I shed my tears, I wish I was shedding for happiness and joy. A tear can calm and relax your mood, a few tears can swell your eyes; but if you never released, I guess you don’t cry. Cry? Yes, I’m crying. Salty tears have swollen my eyes. Once upon a time, I cried from joy. You made my heart ravish inside, you didn't tell any lies. You kept your promise, you were true and honest. You made me smile; I felt no pain. Now I’m shedding tears, but I only wanted to shed two. One for pain, one for joy; but once I started I couldn't stop. My eyes begin to swell. I guess I’m doomed by your spell; I'll lavish in these tears forever. Oh well...

“Ceto: Greek Godess of the Ocean's Dangers.” Emily Laurent, Grade 10

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“Upscale View.” Santiago Rodriguez, Grade 7

“Finally Some Peace and Quiet.” Jordan Bullock, Grade 9

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“We Walk the Road Alone.” Helena Jossette Robinson, Grade 12

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