Writers' City - Volume VIII

Hi! Well, it’s official! The Writers have saved the world yet again, but now, we dive down into the depths of the city. The lights, sounds, and stories of the city amaze all of us, I’m sure, but the ones that matter most of all are yours! We have had quite a fun ride throughout the city, from riding down Main Street, to creeping along the alleyway, to battling it out in fight club! Ella and I are so proud of the people who helped piece together the city’s journey, the ones who contributed their work and helped the magic of the city sparkle like Broadway, and you! Even if you didn’t write and submit, you all still supported us (no matter how small) in our mission, and we thank you immensely for all you ’ve done for us! Yeah, a lot of cities are crime-ridden, and often dangerous, but there are also amazing things to be seen there that aren’t anywhere else! From all of the editors, we hope you enjoy the work that your fellow classmates, or students, created for us! But the most important member of this squad, (Don’t get me wrong, everybody was so helpful, and we’re loving it!) is

MRS. MCNAMARA, our club president, because, without her, none of this would have existed! Now, we are proud to present, WRITERS’ CITYHey! I’m walkin’ here!!

Your Editor-in-Chief, Ella Navari, ’28, and Assistant Editor, Bella Dana ’29

Middle Level Writing Club Publication Volume VIII Writers’City

Editor-in-Chief: Ella Navari ‘28

Assistant Editor: Bella Dana ‘29

Editorial Board: Yelie Pooda ‘30, Genevieve Traskey ‘30, Rina Waweru ‘30, Joshika Banerjee ‘29, Madisyn Lubitz ‘29, Carolyn Keady ‘28, Jessica Petersam ‘28, Carolina Razon-Fernandez ‘28, Allie Workman ‘28

Contributors:

Reagan Barret ‘28

Joshika Banerjee ‘29

Sienna Blaha ‘28

Ananda Claxton ‘28

Bella Dana ‘29

Sophie Harris ‘29

Carolyn Keady ‘28

Jane Lucas ‘30

Madisyn Lubitz ‘29

Ella Navari ‘28

Lizzy Morrow ‘28

Ishani Patel ‘30

Jessica Petersam ‘28

Bridget Rebbel ‘29

Carolina Razon-Fernandez ‘28

Grace Stewart ‘28

Rina Waweru ‘30

Allie Workman ‘28

Cover Design: Ananda Claxton ‘28

Faculty Moderator: Mrs. Erin McNamara

Chapter 1: The Garden (Happy)

Happy Days byBridgetRebbel……………………………… 5

Happiness in a Poem byLizzyMorrow………………………6

Hydrangea Flower byReaganBarrett……………………….8

Shore of the Child byCarolynKeady…………………………9

Everyone Needs an Eleni bySiennaBlaha…………………...10

To Milana: A True Friendship bySiennaBlaha………………12

The Sweet Smell of Spring byJoshikaBanerjee……………….14

Never Give Up byJoshikaBanerjee…………………………….4

The Right Decision byJoshikaBanerjee

Sisilia’s Fun Adventure byMadisynLubitz…………………….16

What Is Love? byCarolinaRazon-Fernandez…………………18

Chapter 2: Wrestler’s Way (Action)

Heiress byCarolinaRazon-Fernandez

Maybe So #1 byBellaDana

Koneko Class byMadisynLubitz

Chapter 3: Anonymous Avenue (Mystery)

Chapter 4: The Graveyard (Sad) Broken byJessicaPetersam

My Selfless Soldier bySiennaBlaha

Maybe So #2 byBellaDana

Chapter 5: The Alleyway (Dark) The Red Shoe byRinaWaweru

Scare byCarolinaRazon-Fernandez

Happy Days

ByBridgetRebbel

As night remains drowning

The day grows

My body gold and warm

Deer walk, birds chirp

A cheerful melody fills my soul

Trees grow and rivers splash

I am happy at last

Happiness in a Poem

ByLizzyMorrow

On a warm summer day

The shining sun guides you

The beautiful blueness of the sky

To nature’ s green grass

Mothers protecting the children

It is a part of life

But it is the love that matters

A happy autumn day

Drinking a hot pumpkin spice latte

With Dad

Driving around with Mom

Singing

And laughing

Facetime calls

With friends

Laughing

Crying

Singing

Oh, the list goes on

Sitting on the rock wall

With that one friend

Spring days

Raining once

Sun twice

Repeating through the month

In the coldness of the Winter

Cold to my fingertips

Flushed with pink

Yet I am happy

Hydrangea Flower

ByReaganBarrett

This Hydrangea flower has thrived for a long time

Summer gave the flower the sun it needed

The Spring gave it sun and the perfect amount of rain

Then Fall came

The flower wasn’t getting enough sunlight

Then Winter approached

The weather started to get colder

The ground began to freeze

People tried to help the flower

Nobody could do anything after time

She had to stay in the fight

But couldn’t anymore

The flower died

She went away

The Summer came again

The flower thrived

Just in a place we couldn’t see

This place was always summer

The flower still thrives today I just can't see

Shore of the Child

ByCarolynKeady

The sand gliding through your little toes, The saltwater up your nose, The breeze blowing through your salty hair, Resting on the soft sand without care, The sound of waves crashing, And the little kids splashing, The sticky sunscreen being lathered on your back, The laughs coming without lack, The luminous sun warming your skin, And the smile shining just above your chin, The merry jingle of the ice cream truck, This is the place I’d want to get stuck.

Feelings are a weird thing

They twist you up not letting you escape

Everyone Needs an Eleni

BySiennaBlaha

Hold you down, tie you up

You sit there asking yourself

Why am I like this

Why do I bottle up my emotions and don’t tell a single soul

Why do I act like everything is okay when it isn’t

Why don’t I open up to the ones I love

Why do I go over events over and over again asking myself what I did wrong

I blame myself every single time, it is always my fault

Why do I keep to myself

Why do I wait until my feelings are overflowing

Bursting out into tears while I tell

The one friend

Who has been there for me always what I am truly feeling

Knowing she will never leave or judge me

She is my crutch when I am broken

Sometimes I feel so alone needing someone to call

But I am too afraid to open up

I hover over the call button

Wondering if she minds

I back out every time not wanting to waste her time

She will never know how much she means to me

How her hug can make the pain go away

Her words “I am here for you”

Make me melt

Wondering how lucky I am to deserve this

How much I long for her hug every time I am sad

I vent to her over message

At first not noticing how good it feels to actually tell someone

A hug so great it feels like heaven

Everyone needs someone like this in their life

Everyone needs an Eleni

To Milana: A True Friendship

BySiennaBlaha

We all long for friendship

Someone to be there by your side

To hold your hand through it all

You think that you have found the perfect friend

But they jump at the opportunity

To stab you in the back

It sounds cliché to say

That you have a friend that will never leave you at only 13

But trust me I have

I try to keep my thoughts inside, but I can never hide them from her

“What’s wrong?” she asks

I reply, “I’m fine.” when I am really not

But she never falls for my little white lies

She just stares me in the eyes and says, “I know you,”

I have to give in and tell her what’s happening

I confide in her

The way she yells “Sienna!” and runs and give me a hug every practice

She never knows she is the reason I am able to keep going

She celebrates my victories and cries and supports me during my losses

She is my sun on a cloudy day,

My warmth during the coldest nights

But friendship isn’t one sided

The thing I love most is the way she fills me in on what is happening

Happy or sad

The way her texts mean so much

But I will never forget the scary moment

She was going through a break in

All alone at her house

I cried, cried so hard at the thought my best friend could be killed

I spammed her phone with calls and texts

When she didn’t answer I panicked Tears stumble down my face

I can never express my happiness when I was told it was a false alarm

The relief when I got a call back

I swam my race for her safety

God had answered my prayers

Wishing I could have been there in person

Sitting there on her bed comforting her

I always thought love was for your family or a boy

But that is not it

Your heart always belongs to your best friend

There is a difference between a friend and a best friend

Best friends are there for you

They know when you are hurting

They would give up everything for you

I thought that would be hard to find but Milana is that for me

They way she can make me laugh, anytime

Everyone writes poems that their heart is where their house is,

But my heart is where Milana is

Where my memories are strongest

Where I am truly myself

The way she never gets sick of me

The way she goes out of her way for me

My heart and soul

Through it all

My heart belongs to Milana

The Sweet Smell of Spring

ByJoshikaBanerjee

As the sun shone brightly outside

The world looked as beautiful as a bride

Spring has arrived once again

The last time it was here, I can’t remember when

I run outside to soak in the sunshine

This feels much better than being online

I start to belt out my favorite songs

This is where my heart belongs

I play with my neighbors for who knows how long

The sweet smell of spring is clearly very strong

Never Give Up

ByJoshikaBanerjee

My friends and I decided to sign up for a spikeball tournament. I was so excited! Instead of the boring hula hoops we used when we played in PE, we were able to use an actual net! As I walked into the gym, I saw the mean girl, Anne, give my friends and me a deadly stare. It was as if she was saying, “Don’t mess with me. This is my game.” Emma and Grace were intimidated by this.

“Don’t think about her, guys,” I reassured them. We won all our games and made it to the finals! However, the team we would be playing against was Anne’s team. My team was in the lead. Suddenly, I accidentally tripped and fell on my back. Anne and her friends started to burst out laughing.

“Ivy, are you okay?” Grace asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I said.

“We should just quit. There’s no point,” Emma said with a defeated voice.

“No, we’re going to keep on going until the end,” I said. I couldn’t believe it when we won!

“Ugh, this game is so unfair!” Anne said angrily as she stormed off.

“Serves her right for being such a jerk!” Emma whispered to Grace and me.

“Dad, I’m scared! I don’t know if I can jump!” I confessed. After all, I was on the top of a 15-floor skyscraper. I couldn’t think of anyone who wouldn’t be afraid.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! Daddy will catch you!” he replied. This made me think back to a time when I was four years old, when my dad and I were playing in the park. I decided to climb a tree, but I didn’t know how to get down. Dad told me to jump, saying that he would catch me. He caught me, and we had a big laugh. Now, I know I should trust him, but what if he can’t catch me? This was at least a 150-foot jump. I decided to take my chances. I took a deep breath before I jumped, and I felt like I was flying. Fulfilling his promise, Dad caught me. It had to have been a miracle.

“Oh Dad, you caught me!” I said.

“Of course, Clementine. I would never let my baby girl get hurt.” Dad told me. Suddenly, I started to sob. I really don

’t know why. My best guess is that after all the stress I had experienced over the past few days, I didn’t know any other way to express it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Dad asked as he drew me into a tight hug.

“This has been a nightmare. Is it over?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“Clementine, it’s over. We can go home now.” he replied as he looked into my eyes, wiping the tears from my face.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes, we can. You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.” Dad told me.

“I’m so happy I’m back with you.” I told him.

“Same here, sweetheart.” Dad replied as he kissed my forehead.

Half an hour later, the police arrived. They arrested Rob and his accomplices. They were trying to get out of the arrest, but they deserved a life sentence considering all the pain they caused. Aunt Zelda arrived shortly after.

“Honey, you’re okay!” she exclaimed with relief as she ran to give me a tight hug.

“And you’re okay too!” I replied.

“You’ve been really brave. Guess what? We can go home now!” she said.

“That’s exactly what Dad told me!” I replied. We all had a big laugh. Then, we embraced each other tightly.

“Oh, I love happy endings.” I said.

“So do we,” Dad and Aunt Zelda answered.

Sisilia

ByMadisynLubitz

Hi! My name is Sisilia! I am a swimmer's cat, a type of mermaid cat. We are not true mermaids because we have the one thing mermaids don’t have, legs. My fur is a bright pink-orange mix, my tail a bright blue, like the sky.

I usually stand on two legs, my mermaid tail flapping from side to side. I don’t have whiskers, but shimmering orange feelers, shaped like fresh succulent seaweed. Swimmer's cats usually live in oceans, lakes, or other bodies of water, but they can live in pools, filtering the chlorine with their gills.

I am probably the only swimmer’s cat that doesn’t live in water. Cat mixes, the bloodthirsty cats that mostly stay on land, hunting forest prey and living in wooden dens, decided to swim out to our dens in the lake and hunt us, separating precious daughters from their parents and husbands from wives.

They picked us off, one by one, teasing us before they struck hard. They swam to our lake base and fought us all, stripping our order and balance apart just for more prey for them.

We all fought hard that day, but they had truly planned. My parents died, but before my mother died, she put me into a red playground ball that was under the lake, filling it with water so I wouldn’t die.

I assume that a lot of swimmer’s cats died that day, without their loved ones by their side. Years later, I live in a school. The school bought me as a playground ball for the students for their outside recess. It's hard for me to tell where I am. There is a small hole in the ball where I can stick my paw through.

Most of the time, I use that hole to grab food, which is usually the flower petals, leaves, and pine needles that line the hard ground, Summer and spring, I eat flower petals, fall, I eat crunchy leaves, and winter, I eat twigs and pine needles.

This assortment of food doesn’t taste good, but I'm alive, aren’t I? Sometimes, I stick my eye through the hole, and I am immediately dazzled by the outside world. People are jumping over long squishy ropes, the sun is shining, and the breeze is blowing.

Some days, it rains, and I see no one outside. I crawl back inside my rubber home and assume that everyone is safe somewhere, anywhere. Everything is ordinary, yet boring until that one day.

I was inside my ball until I heard the loud clomping of shoes against the concrete. I was lifted off the ground for the first time as one of the humans cradled me in their arms. Looking out through the hole, I saw that I was being transported toward a tree. In the giant tree’s branches, I saw another playground ball, a small purple shape covered in green leaves.

The person pulled their arm back swiftly as the water sloshed, soaking my bright fur. In a split second, they pushed the ball forward, aiming for the leafy tree. A branch caught on the ball, and I dangled from the tree, afraid of falling.

A big breeze came forward, propelling the purple ball of the tree and sending it into the arms of a young girl watching the scene take place. She smiled, her eyes shining with amazement. Some other girls crowded around her, and they walked away, ready to play once more. The crowd of watching people dispersed, moving onto the next new thing.

But this was not a good thing for young Sisilia. The branch started slicing into the ball, sending water splashing out onto the unaware head of a blond-haired girl. The girl jolted for a second before running away, trying not to get splashed again. But then the branch split the ball in half, sending Sisilia down to the ground.

“What if there’s a cat mix mouth down there!?” I thought in panic.

She knew that wouldn’t happen, but to Sisilia, anything could happen. She didn’t expect to be in a rubber ball for about five years.

And then the ground came to meet the twelve-year-old swimmer’s cat. She landed flat on her back, the breath driven out of her body. She wasn’t in a cat mix mouth, but on the cold, muddy ground of the school garden.

I summoned enough strength to lift myself up so I could sit on the dirt. I thought I was fine, until I looked at my tail. There was a purple bruise on it. I soon saw the same blond-haired girl. She reached out a helpful hand, and I was able to stand up and stare at the scenery. It was better than I would have ever imagined. Green, lush trees dotted the landscape, and people were lively in the clearing.

“Well, it’s time to go to the nurse for that bruise.” The girl said, and she led me to the door.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” I said softly. “I’m not human.”

“I know.” The girl responded back. “I don’t care. You need help, and that’s what matters.” Happy tears started to flood my eyes.

“I will lead you to the nurse, since you are clearly new here.” The blonde girl said, holding my webbed paw. I wiped my tears as I was led to a pink office. A wet towel was wrapped around my tail, and it was starting to heal.

“Hey,” The girl said, staring into my blue eyes with her hazel ones, “You could be a student here!”

“Me?” I said, bringing my paws to my cheeks. “Here?”

“Yeah.” She said, eyes lighting up. “Here.”

She pulled out an orange uniform that perfectly matched my fur color.

“Here you go.” She said smiling, eyes closed. “I always have a spare.” I took the dress happily, and then at this moment, I hugged the blonde girl. She stood there stiff for a moment before squeezing my back. But then, a group of boys came over, staring us down.

“Hey! This cat’s a student!” A boy with fluffy brown hair said in shock.

“Seriously?” another boy said, this time with straight black hair.

“Well, it is possible...” Another brown-headed boy replied.

And then they walked away, laughing.

“Go!” the blond-haired person said. “It’s time for lunch!”

What Is Love?

A Scholastic Gold Key Winner

ByCarolinaRazon-Fernandez Love.

What is love?

Is it the turning of a page?

Tender and wonderous?

Is it the touch of a person?

Warming your body, enlightening your soul?

What is love?

Is it watching kids dance around?

Sights of joy and excitement?

Is it the smile of a stranger?

Soft and kind?

What is love?

Is it the scent of cinnamon?

Intoxicating and comforting?

Is it the smell of your grandmother's house?

Memories of innocence, of care, of pure jubilation?

What is love?

Is it the taste of your family’s lasagna?

Flavorful and original?

Is it going to school all day to come home and drink the milkshake you saved?

Relaxing and brightening?

What is love?

Is it the samba of a song?

Moving and empowering?

Is it the words of a loved one?

Supporting and everlasting?

What is love?

A Scholastic Honorable Mention

ByCarolinaRazon-Fernandez

I believed him one too many times; this is the last. The image of my brother being restrained flashes in my mind. It was a random Thursday night at dinner. Following Stephan’s outburst, I was rushed to my room to grab as much as I could carry. As I was shoved out the door, the last words I heard were good luck. A sharp ache hits my chest, like a shot to the heart. My train of thought is interrupted by the quiet hum of a helicopter. A buzz that could put me to sleep, if I didn’t know that they are here. Here for me. Alive or dead.

I race to find shelter beneath a rock ledge. It is moist and a noxious smell of animal feces will not fade away. The spotlight beams down on my surrounding area. All I can think is I have been caught; all I can do is hold my breath. The clock ticks as the helicopter waits. It’s a game of chicken. I’m the helpless victim holding their mouth with their hand under the bed, trying not to be caught by the killer. After what feels like an eternity, the helicopter moves deeper into the dense maze of the jungle. I relax; at least as much as someone who is being hunted down can. Trying to slow my breath, I can only think...think of Max. Oh Max, how I miss his touch, his comfort, his love. It would be sweet to remember, if he hadn’t been trying to kill me. I wish I never knew what I know now.

I decide it is time to move. I can never stay in one spot for too long. I stare up at the jungle tops. Ivy green covers the bright blue sky. Animals scampering up, down, and about the trees. A perfect day with perfect scenery. Although, something feels off. It feels like the quiet before a storm hits. Uncomfortable, unpredictable, but mostly, unforgiving.

Heiress

While I was walking, the snap of a stick catches my attention. I slowly turn my head to search for the source of the sound. I know my time is coming to an end. I find nothing, hear nothing. Just the rustle of the leaves and the sound of my own pounding heart. I conclude that it is just a stray bunny and continue. The second I turn around, I feel a strong grip on my shoulders. I reach over my head for my assailant's neck; I throw his body over mine. I back away and prepare my knife. The attacker turns around to face me. It’s him. My brother.

“Stephan, what !” I shout, trying to seem at least a bit more confident than I am.

“Oh, shut up you little brat! You knew what you were doing! Taking everything I worked for!” Stephan roars back. Steam seems to be rising out of his rich brown hair. His face turning from olive to red as a tomato. His big, strong hands start to shake with rage. His cold blue eyes almost popping out of his sockets. He looks at me like a lion eyeing its prey.

“I was always heir to the throne, and you knew that! You knew that the whole time! You sent a man, who I thought was the love of my life, to kill me!” I utter, my voice weakening with every word. I can feel the tears coming; my mind a mess. Like a town during a hurricane.

Pure chaos.

“Well, if everything had gone to plan, you wouldn't have known anything!” he hisses, reprimanding me.

“Does that make you feel like less of a jerk?” I can see the fury he feels about me in his malicious, raging eyes. “I didn’t even want to be the heir to the throne! I just want my life back!” I swallow back my tears, not daring to show any more weakness.

“You get money, fame, and royalty and you’re still ungrateful?! What if I just take that all away from you!”

The next thing I know, he’s lunging towards me, murder on his mind.

An Excerpt from “Maybe So”

byBellaDana

Zach's attitude switched up a little too quickly for us to comprehend, even me, and I’ve known him since preschool. Lauren had a frightened look in her eyes, most likely because to a person who didn't know him, Zach could be pretty intimidating at times. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning nearly snow white, whereas his face was the color of a lobster and his brown eyes looked almost red in the light. Luka, however, was collected and calm, with his hands folded into a pyramid shape, like an evil mastermind in SignumMortis . His amused smile matched his blue eyes when they shone with an electric spark, like he just watched his dog perfect a new trick in a show.

"Well, do you guys really wanna know? Let's have a vote! Raise your hand if you want me to answer Zach's question!"

Long story short, it was unanimous. Zach smiled smugly, and crossed his arms, waiting for Luka to spill. Now he was the one with the gleam in his eyes. Luka, however, once he lifted his finger to count the hands, trembled. He turned as pale as a ghost, and his eyes lost the amusement, replacing it with an inevitable dread.

"Are you guys sure?" he asked desperately, waiting for a way out.

"Oh yeah, we're completely sure. In fact, you're the only one that we know nearly nothing about. We know Izzy. I'm an open book, and Lauren told Izz her backstory. You have the high ground. You knew about LadyNightshade, and barely gave her a glance. There are millions of hackers who could have gotten into the base, and yet you knew it was her. How? Are you a spy? A traitor? Perhaps you're just waiting for the CIA to arrive and take us into custody! That's it!"

Zach's eyes suddenly flashed with a feral gaze. His entire body shook with a mad excitement, finally catching Luka in the act. The creases of his smile went almost paralleled with the edges of his eyes. His teeth were bared in a snarl. I walked up to Zach, and put my arm onto his shoulder, and he quickly turned to face me.

"Zach, what are you doing?!"

"You believe me, right Izz?" he asked, shaking my shoulders back and forth, crushing my body against him. "You've known me since we were practically babies."

I cautiously looked back to see if the others were okay. Lauren, the poor girl, was shivering in fear, because to her, we were in the presence of a madman. Tears wavered in her green and brown eyes. Luka had one hand wrapped carefully around Lauren, and the other grasping his chair tightly. I looked back at Zach. His eyes were staring into my soul, waiting to hear my answer.

"I- I know that Luka has his secrets, we all do, and I do agree that he should at least tell us something but-" I started.

"See?!" He pointed at me, while looking at Luka with a predator's stare, "She agrees with me, and if you don't tell me who you really are, I'll make sure you'll never see the light of day again!"

That was when Zach pulled out a knife.

"Zach! Stop it!" I cried out as I tried to wrest the knife from his grasp.

Lauren was out of my line of sight, so she was most likely hiding somewhere. Luka ran behind the chair he was sitting on and quickly entered a code into a keypad, this one much smaller than the one outside of Dad's base. A safe door opened below the biggest picture frame in the room. The fabric glided and I was only able to get a glimpse of the corner. Inside the safe was a small phone. To be honest it looked like a Nokia.

He pressed on a button and shouted, "Code 5, Code 5!"

An animatronic voice responded "Commencing lockdown. The doors will close in five seconds. 5" "You really are a traitor! I knew it!" Zach growled with a primal rage.

He then raced toward Luka, and before he could even curse, Zach had his fist closed around his neck, with his other hand clenching the knife dangerously near Luka's throat. Luka's face was turning a lavender-type color as he weakly hit Zach's hands. I ran to Zach, and, cursing my clumsiness, tripped on a ruffled piece of carpet. I steadily climbed back to my feet and grabbed his burly forearm.

"Zach, let him go!"

I could feel his heartbeat going as fast as a jackhammer. I pulled some more and pried his fingers from Luka's throat. That was when he turned around to me. While he was distracted, Luka groaned and slid onto the floor with a nasty purple bruise on his neck.

"Izzy! I almost had him. Why did you make me let go?" Zach asked.

byMadisynLubitz

At that time, we were one. She must have noticed my heartbeat going at a superhuman rate, and she lifted her hand off.

“Wow.” Willow said. “I have never seen someone’s heart go like that, and I collect people’s heartbeats like trading cards!”

I shook my head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Willow asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I forced myself to swallow my fear, but it was still lodged in my throat as I said a soft ‘ yes. ’

“Good.” Willow said, not trying to force me. “I got a lot of motherfluffing organic fruit chews to get rid of!”

And we walked up the gray stairs to the bathroom. The bathroom was half changing room, half bathroom. The walls were gray and brown, and the bathroom doors were blue. The sinks were annoying, as you could only wash one hand at a time. A towel dispenser was pasted to the wall with duct tape. I could hear Angela scuffling in the bathroom.

I noticed that the door was cracked, so we hid behind it, so we weren’t discovered. I unzipped the back of my uniform to pull the katana out, our instrument of murder. The outside was red, with black, inky stripes.

The blade was a glorious silver, that glimmered in the light. It was quite pointy, sharp enough to cut through flesh like thin paper. Willow got up, holding a handful of fruit chews.

“I’m going to put these in a trail.” Willow whispered.

I could only nod my head, as my throat was desert dry again. I was shaking so much, the blade seemed to vibrate. After Willow had set the trap and hid, the bathroom stall door clanged open to reveal Angela. Her blond, curly hair layered onto her shoulders as she washed her hands.

She walked out and noticed the fruit chews.

“Oh!” Angela said loudly. “CANDY!”

I was ready to strike, but Willow gave me a nod that meant ‘not yet’. She ate the candy with such enthusiasm that I almost didn’t want to harm her at all. After she was done, it was my time.

I sprung out of my spot, katana in hand. She reached for the door, calling my name, but her cries were muffled as I wrapped my arm across her neck. I was supposed to shove her against the wall and hurt her there, but instead I dragged her by her neck to the nearby corner.

Willow watched; eyes sparkling. She really wanted a bowl of popcorn so she could watch the show.

“What are you doing?” Angela choked out.

“Getting revenge.” I said with malice.

An Excerpt from “Dreamer”

ByAnandaClaxton

Chapter 1

Dark...darker...and darker, that's all I see when I dream. Most people's dreams are filled with memories, random thoughts and ideas all mixed into one dream...then sometimes twisted into something scary which becomes a nightmare. Yet...all I see is a black endless void. There are no memories to twist so no dreams to see. And when I wake up all I see is strangers in white coats studying me while I'm immobile, inside some clear pod. No escape from this endless cycle of being kept as a lab rat for whatever pathetic goal they had.

...Until today...

I hear the strangers walk inside the room clearly discussing something as always. And as always, it's muffled, but I make out the words "He's ready". Who's ready? I'm ready? I think I've been ready for years. I think I was ready as soon as I entered whatever this hellhole is. Whenever that was, I lost track years ago.

I then feel light touching my face as the top of the pod opens and air flows out. I suppose they were saying I was ready. Not sure what for though. My vision was becoming clearer as well as my hearing. I could finally make out the faces of the strangers and what they were saying. Who knew this day would come?

As I sit up, I hear someone talk to me. "Hello, Experiment Number 117," The first stranger says, she had curly brown hair and a face that made her look unapproachable. Clearly scary. So, I'm naming her Ms. Jumpscare. "Oris Null"

One of the other strangers speaks up. Surprisingly, he wasn't as scary as Ms. Jumpscare, instead he seemed gentle. Though he clearly didn't care about my well-being and probably wouldn't ask "How was your day?" because the answer would obviously be "Horrible, how about you?" I name him Mr. Twoface.

"You are now tasked with solving a crime, a murder actually," Mr. Twoface says with a serious expression.

A murder? I just gained the ability to move, and they want me to solve a murder? These strangers really are apathetic. They didn't even give me the chance to process the world and expect me to solve a murder? They choose someone who doesn't even know who they are? I can't tell if these strangers are pure evil or just plain stupid...maybe both.

Before I can even respond the strangers tell me to get out of the pod. I follow their directions for some reason, and they drag me out of the room and into another one which seems like some bedroom, except it's completely white, the only exception being a black and gold outfit folded and laying on the bed. I assume this is my uniform. The pants, shirt, tie, boots, and cropped jacket were all black with gold accents and designs on it. I assume this is my room...these strangers really leave no room for me to breathe. I put on the uniform, as I look to the side and see a mirror over the dresser. Is that...what I look like? Dark skin, gold eyes and ashy gold hair? Huh...I suppose seeing myself for the first time I remember is strange to say the least. All I know for certain currently. My name, or rather the name these strangers gave to me, is Oris Null. I currently have no memory other than being stuck in a pod with strangers looming over me and studying me, and I am now tasked with solving a murder. Is that it? I wonder for at least 15 minutes before Mr. Twoface walks into the room, still with the same obviously fake smile as usual.

"Come with me please", he says grinning.

I don't know why, but I follow him. Probably because I had nothing better to do and knowing how these people operate, I probably would have been tranquilized and dragged me if I didn't come willingly. Though he is saying something I end up tuning it all out as I take in everything in the hallway. Through the doors I mostly see animals being tested or food. Not a single human. I suppose I'm just a wild animal to them. I continue thinking to myself until I hear Mr. Twoface talk to me directly.

"Understand, Oris?", Mr. Two face looks at me. I have a good feeling he realized I wasn't paying attention.

"...No, please repeat", I respond in a monotone voice. I watch his smile morph into an annoyed expression as he sighs.

"You are now a detective. Your job is to solve the murder of Adam Peril", he explains. "A coffee shop owner and one of my closest friends. Don't worry, we already have four suspects for you to interrogate."

Is that really all I am doing? If they needed someone to solve a case it would have made more sense to just have a trained detective, do it. At least that's what I think to myself before he continues.

"You're probably wondering why we chose you", he says as if he could read my mind, "Well...we've been doing a couple experiments and have developed the technology to allow you to enter their dreams. Though, your mind is the only one clear enough to allow this as a possibility."

That...was why they kept me here? Just so I could solve crimes by entering the minds of suspects? Am I nothing to them? A tool? To forever live in darkness to bring others to light? To live and die when no one would recall me...as if I would even remember myself. That why I have no real memories...no hopes...and no dreams. I was born only to solve crimes through dreams...and to die a John Doe.

ByIshaniPatel

I was walking through the city. I stepped around to admire all the wonderful buildings around me. I walked along the city roads a little longer until I heard footsteps behind me. “It’s just some pigeon or squirrel,” I said to myself. But the footsteps got louder and louder until BAM! My mouth was covered with a hand in a black glove and my arms were rope tied behind my back. TheyknowwhatIdid.I started to freak out. I stayed calm. These people must be the FBI or the CIA. I remained quiet until they placed me in a dark room on a broken chair. I was getting splinters everywhere but decided not to admit it.

“How did you know I stole those paintings? I had a disguise!” I spoke.

“You should have chosen a better disguise than Blackout, punk!” How did they know that it was my criminal disguise? “We have been watching you for an exceptionally long time,” said a mysterious voice in a black mask, hat, and coat.

“W-Who are y-y-you! I only stole them to prove to my parents I can be a criminal!” But was this what I really wanted?

“We are not the authorities, we are here to recruit you, to Glitch Corps.”

“What is that?”

“A Criminal Organization,” said the man.

“I-I’ll have to think about that.” My parents were criminals. That is how they died. I want to live on my parents' legacy, but I'm not sure if I want it like this. “

Then you’ll have to do it here!”

“No, don’t leave!” I sat in that chair, helpless, defenseless. What could I do? Then a gleaming light made its way from my pocket to my eyes. My knife! I shook to leg and my knife fell out. I threw myself and my chair onto the floor. I struggled but got the knife in my mouth. After many miserable minutes, the knife cut through the rope, and I now had to find out how to escape. I saw a pole that led to the vents. I can get

out there! I grabbed the chair and used it as a boost to push myself up the pole. Although I slipped down a few times, I made it to the top of the vent, and sat on the ledge in front of it. As soon as my whole body reached the ledge, the pole collapsed.

“There is no going back now,” I muttered to myself. I whipped out my trusty knife and used the tip to unscrew the screws that keep the vents attached. Once I hopped inside the vent and everything was dark. I started crawling through, not knowing where I what I was getting myself into. I saw a small light which washed a sense of hope inside me. I crawled through.

“She was doing very well,” said the mysterious person wearing black clothes.

“I didn’t know she would crawl in the vents?”

“Well then, YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT CAMERAS EVERYWHERE LIKE ASKED!” said a deeper voice, but this time I couldn't see the deep voiced man. It all makes sense. My heart was pounding. I wanted to leave as fast as I could from the vents. I followed another light, praying it would be an exit. It was a corridor, so I ran down and swung open the doors where I came face to face with the man wearing black.

“You made me look like a fool in front of my boss!” he said.

“W-Who’s your boss, why do you want m-me?!” I stammered.

“As my assistant said before, we want to recruit you. Join us and we can make you powerful,” said the even deeper voice. It must be “assistant’ s” boss.

“NO!” I screamed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want this.”

“Then you’ll have to die, you know too much,” said the assistant. He plunged at me; I was caught by surprise. I ducked not knowing what I should. I pulled out my knife and slashed it. “OW!” he yelped. As he was knocked on the floor, I stood in front of him.

“Should I finish you off?” I said.

“Why aren't you rushing? Too scared, punk?” he said. I held the knife in my hand, trembling with fear. I held it up above his face, ready to stab. Just as I was lowering the knife, the ground opened, and I suddenly felt like I was falling. I quickly opened my eyes. I whipped my head up, covered head to toe in sweat.

“WAKE UP CITY ORPHANAGE! BREAKFAST DUTY!” said the orphan master.

Was it all just a dream? But it felt so real! I walked to the kitchen and threw my apron on. CLANG! Something hard and metal hit the floor.

I bent down to pick it up and it was a knife, the knife from my dream.

Broken

ByJessicaPetersam

The screams

It was the death of her

The death of me

The death of my already broken heart

Once was a family

Laughing, loving, playing

As if there was no worry in the world

The separation

The separation of life and death

The separation of the two halves of my heart

But now I can barely see

Barely breathe

Barely hear with the boisterous screams that puncture me so deeply

Like lava from Hell

Or even the devil himself

It breaks me to see her like this

Broken with no will to survive

There is no one in the world who can relate

To the despair

Of my broken heart

My Selfless Soldier

BySiennaBlaha

Loving Helpful Selfless

From dark to day

Always extending a helping hand

Working hard

Thinking of others first

Ladder falls

A dark doom

Held up by a single thread

Dangling, waiting to be cut

Hurting, struggling, but no one knows

Help is needed

Rope has broken

Pushes it away to not ruin our day

Struggling to climb up the walls

Cancer

Mom cries and prays while he goes through hell

Surgery

Surgery drags on like a letter forever waiting to be sent

Calls in for another surgery

Can’t escape although he would like to

Wants a normal life

A regular life

In his own home

Instead has to leave his home for a year

Like Odysseus

Nurses and physical therapists fill the room

Praying for a speedy recovery

Time goes by

Finally allowed to go out of the house

My selfless soldier

Wipe away tears

Forever hold your peace

Dreams are coming true

Step by step

Good things take time

Lots of time

And then more time than that

When a star winks from the sky

Things will go back to normal

It just takes time

Loving Helpful Selfless

From dark to day

Always extending a helping hand

Just like a selfless soldier

My selfless soldier

An

A Scholastic Gold Key Winner

ByBellaDana

I could then see Mr. Lark start to smile. It wasn't a joyful smile, or a crazy one. At that moment, it was one of sorrow and regret. He looked in my direction. But instead of patting my back, rearranging his smile into a genuine one, and telling me that it'd be okay, his hands wrapped around me like a child not wanting to part with his favorite toy, and a single tear slid down his face. He then put his forehead to mine for a few long seconds as if to apologize. It was then, when the door burst open, when Mr. Lark stood up, that I knew his plan. I tried to scream my complaints, but he placed his finger on my lips, and ran into the center of the room, just as the troops filed in, putting on a crazy smile for the world to see.

"Haha!!" he cawed while pointing at the open door. "You idiots are too late! The kids have already run away! They'll tell the entire world your secrets, and the president will be finished!!"

Then suddenly, the leader, or, who I thought was the leader, emerged from the sea of men with guns. He had a clipped salt and pepper haircut, cruel brown eyes, and a sneer that looked painted on his face. His military badges gleamed over his camouflage armor. But a spark of recognition and hatred gleamed in his eyes, and he pointed that look straight towards Mr. Lark.

"You don't have to condemn innocent children to death, Sergeant Fitzgerald. Even kidnapping one of our own."

If the threat of danger weren’t looking me in the eyes, I would have gasped. But then a small part of my mind started to scold me. Youcompleteidiot!Didn'tyounoticehowhelookedatyourmomwhile youwentupstairstopackyourthings?Howhecalledyoudoll,whilehedidn'tgiveanyoneelseanickname?Haveyoueverconsideredwhyyourmomcringeswhenshetellsyouthestoryofhowyourdad wentmissinginthewar?Orwhy'Mr.Lark'madea'summercamp'onsomehowdefeatingthegovernment?Yourdadwasahighrankinthegovernment,andwhenheknewitstruecorruption,heleft,or ‘ wentmissing’.The other part of my mind retorted with a short but sweet "Shutup".

Mr. Lark spoke again, which brought me out of my thought process. "I'm not condemning them! I'm just unmasking you for the frauds you are! Saying 'Oh, you guys are completely safe!' or 'We're a government you can trust!'. Every single one of you is either dirty or brainwashed! And you know it, Private!"

The leader frowned, made a quick hand gesture across his throat and said, "Kill him."

Do you know how the mind keeps people from experiencing traumatizing moments? Well, I think that may have been what happened. There were about fifty gunshots per second. By the time the rings in my head went softer and softer, Mr. Lark was on the ground, a bullet hole in his chest, the other kids gathering around him, and the CIA gone. I immediately ran over to Mr. Lark, and he weakly lifted his hand to grasp mine. It was then that I realized he was dying. Tears started spilling from my eyes, as if I were a waterfall with waves of sorrow rolling down its banks.

"Hey, don't cry, doll. I'm gonna be okay." he said.

"Why didn't you tell me? That you were my dad? Why didn't you come home? Mom is heartbroken and had to raise me all by herself for my entire life. Why didn't you message me?" I cried, quaking in place.

"I - I wanted to come home to you and April. It was the thing I wanted most, to see her laugh again, and to see you grow into a beautiful young woman. And I guess I did, kind of, although I missed a big gap. When I came home to get you, I was the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time. Your mother absolutely hated me for abandoning her. She didn't want me to take the only love and joy she had left. But I convinced her. I was finally able to hold on...."

Then his breath slowed. It got slower , slower , and slower , until not a single sound was heard. Mr. Lark- Dad's bright green eyes dulled to a depressing greenish gray. His mouth was frozen in a small smile. His red hair became less bright. I looked around to see the reactions of the others. Lauren covered her face in her hands. Luka simply looked down at his feet. Zach held out his hand to me, his eyes glistening with sympathy. I buried my face into his white shirt and cried for who knew how long. He stroked my hair with a sad solemness, not just comforting me, but himself as well.

Once I took my head out of his tear-stained shirt, I noticed a slip of paper jutting out of Mr. Lark's pocket. I snatched it away and opened it greedily, looking for an answer, or anything really. I realized what this paper was almost immediately. The only thing on the paper was a code. The numbers of the code were 2-0-0-7, my birth-year. This was the code Dad entered into the keypad to open the base. More tears filled my eyes, but I brushed them away, for the others' sake.

The Red Shoe

ByRinaWaweru

It all began on May 28,, 2016, when Jack was walking home from school alone. It was a beautiful day with perfectly green grass and a surplus of flowers had grown because of the spring rains. Jack was thinking about what his mom would be making for dinner, when a white van was driving up the street. Jack didn't even think twice about it, and that was his first mistake. The van parked right next to him, and a middle-aged man came out.

The man’s gaze landed on Jack and asked, “Hey kid, want any candy?”

Without thinking better of it, Jack replied, “Yes.”

The man said, “All you have to do to get your candy is to come on over and hop in the back of the van.” Jack hesitated for a split second, but he got in.

Then, in a rapid motion, the man pinned Jack to the floor of the van by his neck and whispered, “If you want your candy and to get out of here alive, you're going to listen to everything I say. Got it?”

Jack had nothing else to do, so he nodded. The man closed the trunk, and the last thing left of Jack is that red shoe.

The Scare

ByCarolinaRazon-Fernandez

I feel the breath of a monster. It lingers on my neck. A tingle traveling through my veins. A spark coursing through me. A storm of fear pours over me.

I don’t know what’s behind me, I also don’t want to know, but whatever it is, it's getting closer, and hungrier, and meaner. Whatever it is, it's here for me and you.

Horror Movies

ByCarolinaRazon-Fernandez

Horror movies are my favorite genre

The fear, the suspense, the jump scares

Everything about them fills me up inside It’s like Florida to me

A vacation from reality

I can live in the lives of the victims

Feel their fear, their joy, their despair

I can also understand the life of the villain

Their pain, their misunderstanding, their motive

Maybe people don’t realize they are what drove the killer to a point of insanity?

A point of heartlessness

Why don’t people blame the victims for the hurt they caused the villain?

Their words, their actions, everything they threw at the killer hurts

It hurts a lot

They don’t understand

And then they call the killer crazy when it’s them who are crazy

What do you think would happen if you treated them like that?

Said all those things?

Did what you did?

Horror movies are a release

A release for my anxiety, my fear, my sadness

When the characters cry, I cry I cry about everything

All of the victims who don’t understand what they did to make me this way

When they scream, I scream. I let out all my anger and agony

When they lash out, I lash out

I let out everything I’ve kept in for so long

I watch horror movies anytime of the day, even nighttime right before I go to bed

I never worry about the terror of the night or the bad dreams

Horror movies don’t give me nightmares anymore

I’m already living in one

They know

They know what I have done

They Know

BySophieHarris

They know what I could do

They know

They know my life

They know my story

They know, and they know too much.

I suddenly hear the stranger creeping,

Creeping silently, like a spider,

Like a spider hoping to entrap me,

To entrap me in its twisted web,

No Escape

ByBellaDana

And in it’s twisted web I’d stay,

I’d stay unless I tried to fight,

I tried to fight and utterly failed,

Utterly failed my duties to this world,

To this world I sail away,

Away from the place I knew so well,

So well hidden there was simply I,

I alone, in this forgotten land

Twisted Love

ByBellaDana

I was completely livid. My boyfriend had been murdered, along with my best friend, Lara. I found them in the alleyway, carelessly tossed into the dumpster. I was going to procure some fruit so I could make a fruit salad for Lara’s birthday. We did that every year for each other. An hour before the murder, she was incessantly talking about her new infatuation, and I was only slightly annoyed. A few minutes later, after I’d left the house, I ran into my boyfriend, Matt, who was currently hanging out with his gamer squad. I said hello, but the other boys seemed to purposely be trying to turn him away, so he couldn’t see me.

But after I had done my grocery shopping, I’d felt brave and walked through the alley alone, and I almost felt bad that I did. The two of them were literally tied together. A tumultuous scream was emitted from my throat, and I slammed my fist against the wall. I wasn’t supposed to scream, what if the killer found me? Oh, right. It was my speculation that, since both of them were close with me, but had no ties to anybody else, they were targeted, because of me. I put my hand on my face, to stop the flow of tears, but before I could get out my phone to call the police, a rough hand grasped my wrist, and the other on my cheek. He twirled me around to look at him, and I froze. It was Caleb, a boy, who had always seemed to be shy, and misunderstood, so I helped him around, and kept bullies away, because, for a girl, I seemed to be pretty muscular, yet I was smart at the same time. I’d protected him, and after a while, he was expelled for some reason. I paid him no mind, but it was obvious that he’d never forgotten me. He backed me into the brick wall, a dead end, and smiled, his eyes full of love, but entirely the wrong kind.

“Why are you doing this, Caleb?!” I asked, confused and terrified. He pulled a bloody knife out of his pocket and put it near my neck.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, the look of twisted love in his eyes, mixed with the essence of a psychopath.

Lasting Memories

ByLizzyMorrow

Remembering meeting those friends who will last forever

Going to unfamiliar places

Seeing, hearing, smelling, trying new things

The ears hearing

Crackle of leaves on a beautiful autumn day

The eyes seeing the beautiful spring grass

Hands touching my keyboard typing words, appearing on the screen

Smelling the delicious meal that sits before me at dinner

Not all memories are good

But many are Learning, loving, caring, Really, everything takes memories

Thousands of colors fill into my head

Of memories

Memories are things we hold on to

We cherish those to overcome challenges

To try new things

Memories are more than things

They hold a sacred piece of our hearts,

Like a lock to a home

Turn the key and you will find my memories

So, cherish them

Just like a mother cherishes her child,

Because you never know how long your memories will last.

Those Innocent Eyes

A Scholastic Silver Key Winner

ByAllieWorkman

Those innocent eyes

Blue like the ocean

Like the summer sky, like a field of cornflowers

Like the Blue Morpho butterfly

Those innocent eyes

That hide secrets so far below the surface,

Those innocent eyes that hide secrets, carry stories, and hold knowledge

That you would never understand

Those innocent eyes

That chase blue skies, green leaves, and brown moths

For eternity.

Those innocent eyes

Green like emeralds

Like the new spring leaves, like the evergreens

Like the bitterness of a lime

Those innocent eyes

That carry stories deep into the woods,

Those innocent eyes

Brown like hot chocolate

Like rich Mohagany wood, like warm amber honey

Like a soft silk moth.

Those innocent eyes

That hold knowledge just out of reach,

A Scholastic Gold Key Winner

ByEllaNavari

Grandma’s house,

Not merely a place, but a childhood lifetime,

A sweet sanctuary of carefree laughter,

Smell of chocolate brownies wafting through the air,

Running barefoot through a sun-dappled stream, no one to judge.

A time machine,

Transforming us into the children we were,

Loving with abandon, unconcerned about the struggles of life,

Bounding through the woods,

As light and free as a baby deer on a summer’ s eve.

A race with my siblings,

Following a pungent scent to a grove of skunk cabbage,

And becoming fairy kings and queens, soldiers and magicians,

To hide beneath the enormous leaves,

From lumbering giants, who called us in for a dinner of pizza and popsicles.

Ode to Grandma’s House

And when winter laid down a snowy blanket,

Arctic foxes and treasure hunters, bundled up in snowy mittens,

Stayed out long past our bedtimes,

Returning to hot cocoa and open arms, smelling of vanilla and cinnamon.

Surrounded by a sea of laughter and smiles,

Chatter and chaos seeded with happiness,

A bout of banter with grandpa, both laughing soundly,

Love roamed freely at grandma’s house.

Capturing the Unattainable

ByAllieWorkman

Beauty lives in the unattainable.

It lives in the cracks in the earth, in the warmth of the sun, the chill of the night. It cannot be captured or explained.

She found her beauty in experiences, in the way the stars shone at night, in antique shops, in snowcapped mountains.

She found it on the water, in the swirl of sea foam when waves crash, in walks through the woods and night drives with her sister. She found it in never-ending sleepovers in the summer.

She found it in the forest in spring, in Towson Hot Bagel on Saturday mornings, in elementary school field days. She found it in seeing the world.

Beauty lives in the unattainable. It lives in the people around you, in the way the sun shines on the sea, in the thunder and lightning. It cannot be explained But it can explain you.

I am space and time

My mind is the universe

Space and Time

A Scholastic Honorable Mention

ByAllieWorkman

All thoughts and feelings revolve around the sun

The sun is time.

But the sun is exploding

Time is distorted

My thoughts are jumbled,

My feelings are scrambled

Darkness is always stalking you

It lurks in the corners of your mind

The sun has exploded

One bright flash of light

Time has erupted

Throwing thoughts and feelings

Across the sky

Blazing thin trails through darkness

Darkness has found you

It has taken over your mind

The sun is gone

I am no longer space and time.

Ode to the Swimming Pool

BySiennaBlaha

The blocks stand tall; ready to take on any challenge

But it shakes as I approach

The clear blue water waving up at me

The caps pulled on

The goggles tightened, it’s getting real

I place my feet and wait

And wait

The buzzer

I explode off the blocks, crashing through the glass sheet of water

The water rushes and ripples as I journey through

The lane lines slashing through and dividing the water

The wall stands strong as it gets kicked left and right

The black lines signaling what is ahead

The clock racing against you

You racing against the clock

And the others

Racing

Pulling

Kicking

Stroking

Through the water

People ask what perfume I use, and I will simply reply,

Chlorine

All thanks to the McDonough swimming pool

My place of happiness

I love growing up

And exceeding high expectations and soon I’ll be in 4th grade.

I Love

ByGraceStewart

I love my dolls that keep me and my sister busy,

And I love my teddy, I sleep with every night.

I love always getting A’ s on my tests and report cards, And I love how easy school is.

I love online school

And being able to sleep in a little later, and Even wearing pajama pants on our google meets because they can’t see.

I love my new school.

I love the delicious food and The good education I’m getting.

I love my cat and all her beauty

And how she snuggles with me Every night.

I love shopping sprees

And self care

And comfy clothes

I love social media

That keeps me and my friends connected

And keeps me entertained and distracted

From a bad day

I love volleyball

And improving my skills

Every single practice and game

I love my bed

That I live in

And sleep on especially after a long day.

I love getting at least a B on my tests or my report card

And doing better on a quiz

That I thought I would

And passing those hard tests

I didn’t understand

Or study enough for.

I love being responsible And a leader but I love how I hate growing up and having to own up to high expectations and soon I’ll be in 9th grade.

Grueling For a Purpose

ByJessicaPetersam

Push yourself

Push yourself harder

Push yourself to be someone with meaning

Push yourself to be someone accepted by society

Do better.

Be better.

Work harder.

They’ll tell you to work harder

Even when gasping for breath

I can't do it anymore

I am my one ray of sunshine

And I accept it.

Every rose has its thorn

But every flower blooms

And everyone has a purpose

Stuck

Trapped

Held down

Get back up

Run

Run like no one is watching

Run until I can't any more

Run until the sky fades deep into the night

Run until the moon shines and stars twinkle

ByJessicaPetersam

I will run until I run the world

A Scholastic Gold Key Winner & American Voices Nominee

ByEllaNavari

A seedling, small, unassuming,

Flung by the wind over lush fields and dark forests, Only to plummet, Down, Down, d o w n

Into a dark alley, no one to witness the fall.

Unwatched, alone, so easy to concede,

But it perseveres.

It holds inside the great green promise of life, Waiting and strengthening,

Until roots sink into a small patch of earth, And it GROWS.

Becomes bigger, stronger, until all can witness its beauty.

So when I dive into the water, legs pumping, lungs burning, Unwatched, alone.

So easy to surrender, I persevere.

I keep pushing, keep holding on,

Until I stand atop a podium with a medal around my neck,

And applause ringing in my ears.

And when they all ask, how?

When did she do it?

I did it when no one was watching. I persevered.

Ode to a Sunflower

A Scholastic Gold Key Winner & American Voices Nominee

ByEllaNavari

Delicate flowers,

Scents like the sweet summer rain,

A silky brush of feather-light petals,

Sun-dappled jewels peeking out from beneath dank leaves,

Small clusters of gemstones, hiding their allure deep in the brush,

But so normal-everyday-hiding their inner beauty from the outside world.

Oh, but a sunflower!

Trumpeting beauty for all the world to hear,

Brilliant and powerful,

Aspiring to reach the sun above,

Leaning to the light,

Refusing to be hidden,

Calling out, “I exist!” For all the world to hear.

I am beautiful,

I am confident,

I am important, I refuse to hide, I will not be oppressed, I am here!

I am a sunflower.

Where

is my Home? A Scholastic Gold Key Winner

ByEllaNavari

Where is my home?

Is it the house I live in,

Or the room where I go to sleep?

Is it where I was born,

Or the street I grew up on?

Maybe it is somewhere, or something, else. What is my home?

My home is chasing butterflies on a fresh spring breeze, Climbing cherry trees bursting with silky pink blossoms, Dancing across my yard, a feather flung free on a hot summer wind.

My home is the laughter of siblings, The splashes and shouts of cousins and family racing to our pool, The song of play drifting on autumn breezes, Dancing in a bubble filled driveway, arms flung wide in childish delight.

My home is sand in my toes and the crash of waves,

The cold sweetness of ice-cream on my tongue and hot boards under my feet, Shouts of cousins and friends who are mere memories now.

My home is the splash of water as I dive in for swim practice, Pushing through the burn to achieve my top time, The flash of cameras as I stand atop a podium, applause ringing.

My home is the gentle scrape of a page turned in a good book, The furious scratch of a pen on paper, The confident tune of a well-given speech.

And oh- I suppose- I was born in North Carolina, Raised in Maryland, But that is not my home.

My home is a navy-blue dress with a white collar, Hundreds of voices, raised in song, brilliant candles lighting a Christmas mass, Walking through a flowery gateway, not yet knowing that family waits within.

My home is my love, my memories, My family, both born and chosen. A house is not a home. This love is my home.

Sounds of the City

byJaneLucasandIshaniPatel

Sounds of the city

No calm, loud everywhere

Beep, Vroom, Crash, Watch out!

The morning is bright

No stars at night; Only lights

Light pollution here.

Trash is building up

Litter and filth roam free here

It’s called a trash can!!!

The buildings stand tall

Towering over us all, Modern and old looks.

Always in a rush

Grumpy grouchy hurry quick

Hustle and bustle.

Midnight awakes now

The city- always awake

Driving me insane.

ByTheEditorialBoard

The city, full of lights above

Is nothing compared to the love

Shared by all the writers here

With all of us, together, there’s nothing to fear

As we steer through the dark streets

Or make our way through memory lane

Remembering the times we’ve had were just so sweet

Laughing, writing, editing and more

Nothing comes in the way of who we are

The bonds we’ve made during all these times

Are worth way more than a million dimes

And when someone may hit a wall

We’ll be there to help them stand tall

We are all different but are also all writers

But when we are all together the world is made brighter

So, when we are gathered around to share

Our stories and friendships we made can’t compare!

We’re all writers which makes us the same

This means way more than a bunch of fame

If this is to be my last day

I’d rather spend it no other way

We accept all writers, whether they come early or late,

Not being with my fellow writers makes me feel irate!

We accept all stories whether short, long, or small

Even if you think you are the worst writer, don’t worry, we accept them all!

Thank you for welcoming me in my first year here

I hold the times we have shared near and dear

All of you are funny, passionate, and amazing writers

And all your characters are amazing fighters

You all help inspire my fire

And help me to fly much higher

I will hate to see some of you go

Just know I will always walk in your shadow

I have loved writing all three years,

And this committee has become so dear,

I will hate to move on, and leave all this behind,

I wish you all luck, and good writing I hope you find!

So, coming from us, all writers alike

When last year many writers assembled to strike

This year we all gather around in a city

We thank our whole team for growing our committee!

And now from your teacher, a final word before we part:

Thank you for guiding us down the streets of your hearts.

May you always find a home in your words, wherever your paths lead,

And know that you will settle only when your voices are freed.