The Crossroads welcomes submissions from any member of the Middle School student body from August through March 31. Teachers are also encouraged to submit work for their students. All works are judged anonymously.
Editorial Policy
The Crossroads editorial staff reserves the right to edit minor errors such as grammatical and spelling problems, while other submissions may be returned to the author for additional requested corrections or approval for editorial decisions.
Disclaimer
The content of The Crossroads does not reflect the judgements or opinions of the Board of Trustees, the administration, faculty or staff of Saint Mary’s Hall. It is solely a student driven publication.
A Note from the Editors
In the creation of literature, whether it be in relation to a personal project or something which was assigned, we naturally draw upon our experiences, past or present, to inspire us throughout the process. Memories, which ebb and flow constantly within the limited reaches of our minds, can play a major role in what we write. The recollection of a shared dinner, the tender embrace of those you love, or even the solemn shifting of one’s gaze, can change the mood and contents of a piece indefinitely. Reminiscing and reconsidering, excising ideas from the mistakes and joys alike, help to quell the raucous which inevitably follows in the trail of attempted thought.
We ask that you bathe in the pleasant waters of your memory for a moment longer. Consider, with a great pensiveness, the concept of creation, and how fluidly it is incorporated into your life. Enjoy the pieces which our various applicants have so carefully extracted from the recesses of their imaginations.
Writing is an art. To create art you need inspiration. Inspiration can come from memories, nature, relationships, change, and even from other writers. Our writing shows who we are on the inside, what we think, and what we feel. We express through our creativity. Our creations reflect our inner selves, which are shaped through our experiences. Time spent on these works of art is shown throughout this publication. After all this time, the chosen works are ready to be shared. They are their own special works all different from one another. We hope you dive into these works of art and enjoy them on an even greater level than we did creating them.
Charlotte Werkowitch - Form 6
Ella Winterbotham - Editor Form 8
Every author draws stimulus from somewhere, some sort of incentive that jumpstarts their creativity. Whether it be a piece of literature that you found especially poignant or a simple conversation that carries its own artistry, it all begins somewhere. Ideas lurk in every corner, and you simply have to be observant enough to find them.
Kathryn Zoghi - Form 6
Editor
Ella Winterbotham
Special Contributing Editors
Josie Mewborne, Regan Marx, Sanvi Goyal, Della Fielder, Vivi Gentis, Sanya Singh, Katie Stewart
Creative Writing Club Members
Benny Prado, Olivia Prince, Charlotte Werkowitch, Blake Wagner, Kathryn Zoghi, Ella Winterbotham
Sponsors
Deborah McInerney
BJ Pyrc
2025-2026
Order of Appearance
Della Fielder- Cover Art
Alex Westgarth-Taylor “All Problems Wafer Thin”
Angel Xue- Photograph
Katie Stewart- “Accidental Change”
Parin Barat- Photograph
Caedmon Robbins- “The Emerald”
Charlotte Werkowitch- “On a Faraway Island (A Tribute to Orphan Island)”
Claudia Pena- “The Pearls Hidden Within”
Olive Barnard- 2D Art -
Whitney Chen-2D Art
Della Fielder- “The Notebook”
Della Fielder- “Evening Primrose”
Abigail Hockersmith-Photograph
Ella Winterbotham-”Quiet Game”
Evie Shelton- “Stroke”
Della Fielder- 2D Art
Josie Mewborne- “Holy Confessional”
Josie Mewborne- 2D Art
Emerson Bolner- 2D Art
Della Fielder- 2D Art
Kasey Mitchell- “Toxic”
Emerson Bolner- 2D Art
Alex Westgarth-Taylor- Lilliana and the Socks
Luna Azul Velasquez- Combos and Quests
Luna Azul Velasquez- 2D Art
Nora Mewborne- “Untitled”
Olive Barnard- 3D Art
Olive Barnard- 3D Art
Nunu Barajas- “Singing Through Life”
Josie Mewborne- 2D Art
Carmen Woodward- 2D Art
Olive Barnard- “A World In a Book”
Rosa Carle-Valenzuela- “A Fruit of My Childhood”
Luke Turner- Photograph
Olivia Barnett- “Flowers Dance in the Breeze”
Sanvi Goyal- “Of Color and of Dreams”
Leo Alexander- Sculpture
Benny Prado- “Shadows”
Sanya Singh- “The Tide Changes”
Sanya Singh- “Wings Like a Phoenix”
Makenna Graff- 2D Art
Emma Farret- 2D Art
Taylor Martinez- 2D Art
Luke Vaello- 2D Art
Vivienne Gentis-“The Girl and the Boy”
All Problems Wafer Thin
Alex Westgarth-Taylor, Form 6
In the evening light
I run.
I run without excuses,
Even on the days when it hurts—
When running feels like a chore,
Not a gift,
When my lungs complain
And my legs argue.
I still do what I need to do.
I feel the rhythm in my bones
As each foot connects with concrete,
As my breath and stride intertwine.
A steady jog,
A pounding sprint, A mile that never ends.
My stress evaporates
like cool rain on a hot day.
My shoulders lift, my head clears.
All problems wafer thin,
Completely aware,
I live in the moment.
2025-2026
Angel Xue, F7
Accidental Change
Katie Stewart, Form 7
In the beginning there was only winter. No springtime flowers, no days of warmth as the sun melts the crystal-like snow, disappearing as though it was never there. All throughout the world, although there was life, it was concealed in the deepest of caves hibernating from the frigid climate. The only signs of life were the humans, but they were not like the ones that we have today. They were adapted from the cold, always together, never leaving their dwellings and relying on the small timid flames of the fire as they tell the tales of the corner veiled somewhere on the frigid earth where there was warmth.
As the tales were told, they would always hope that “she” would not hear of this seemingly distant realm for then would come the death of their last chance for spring. The humans also knew that if “she” were to find out about their stories, her extensive powers would cause immense storms of pouring rain, snow, and hail. The humans didn't even dare to say her name, petrified of her mighty power and position as an entity. Her name was Hivara, with her piercing grey eyes and snow-like hair. She was the most powerful in all of the world solely because of her ability to control the seasons.
In the beginning of time when the first snow started to melt, so did she, so when she figured out how to control the seasons she instantly made winter infinite, eager to be normal. All of this came about because of jealousy and a desire to be normal. When the frosted blanket of snow didn't melt, all the creatures, including the humans were confused. All of the world was now forever frozen all except for that one little corner of the earth. As the tales were told, they would always hope that “she” would not hear of this seemingly distant realm for then would come the death of their last chance for spring. The humans also knew that if “she” were to find out about their stories, her extensive powers would cause immense storms of pouring rain, snow, and hail. The humans didn't even
dare to say her name, petrified of her mighty power and position as an entity.
Eldon was the only person not confused, he was an ordinary human but he had more than the average knowledge, for he was the noble one. The noble one had knowledge of everything that has ever happened or will happen, so he knew where that corner of warmth was. He also knew that because of that one piece of land he could reverse everything, defeating Hivara and increasing the quality of human life. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't stop working until she was defeated. One day as he was working he ventured outside into the wintery climate and that is when he saw him.
A baby was lying on top of the icy snow wailing endlessly. Without a hesitation Eldon scooped up the fragile baby and cradled him into his arms. As the baby cried, Eldon saw a tiny scroll with only one word, “Avon”. Eldon went to throw the scroll away when on the back he saw, “From the people. Find us spring.” Now he knew Avon was to be his successor and pass down all of the knowledge that his new guardian has yet to find.
As Eldon walked back into his corner with Avon, he looked around the room gazing at all of the bottles of mystical substances, aged leather books, and tables covered in miscellaneous papers. Eldon sat Avon down on a bed of feather pillows and knew that he would not let Avon grow up in a world of dreary winter. Eldon got to work flipping through the weathered pages swishing in the air, flipping and flipping until he got to the page, titled Meadows of Spring. The hardest steps in all of the book were in that one spell, yet that was not the only task that Eldon needed to complete in order to bring back warmth; he also needed to defeat Hivara.
The spell required one lock of white hair, two blooming flowers and a feather of a sparrow. These materials were near impossible to find because the only person that had white hair was Hivara because all of the humans spent most of their time in shelter hiding themselves from the cold. They rarely went outside exposing them to the cold but also from the sun, so all of their hair was dark. Eldon had flowers in his
corner, but they were already in full bloom because he only had spring. A feather of a sparrow would be challenging to find as well because all of the birds had either hidden from the cold in caves or froze.
Eldon ventured out into the snow determined to come back with at least one of his items. As he trudged on in the numbing snow, he finally saw it- a sparrow with a bright white chest, gazing into the snowy distance. Eldon slowly crept up to the peaceful bird quickly plucking a feather as the sparrow started to fly up. Eldon thought to himself, one down, only two to go. He hustled through the heavy snow, urgent to get back to Avon. Upon his return, he found Avon peacefully sleeping. He took a seed from the center of the bright yellow flower, placing it in a pot of soil- two down.
The chilled breeze brushed Eldon's face, awakening him from his slumber. Eldon fed Avon and then set off to find Hivara, but first he needed a disguise so Hivara wouldn't recognize him. He started to gather up materials such as a long cloak with a hood, scissors to trim his hair, and large shoes. Eldon quickly suited up and set out to gather his final material. Eldon also brought Avon and a tent knowing that finding Hivara would not be the easiest task. He set out on a mission and promised himself that he would not return to warmth until he brought warmth to everyone.
With Avon in hand, Eldon hiked through the night until he reached the coldest point known to mankind: The Peak. This was the place that rumor said Hivara would roam, admiring her mischievous work. He set up camp under a barren tree and started to wait. The sun was beginning to set, so he decided to put Avon down and continued to wait. For hours on end he sat, hoping that she would soon arrive.
As the sun started to awaken he dozed off until he heard a small “crack!” Rapidly, he sat up and looked around him. He saw nothing but a snowshoe hare. He shut his eyes again until he heard that same crack again. Once again he looked around and saw that the hare was still in the same place. He stood up and turned around and there she was.
She stood there motionless, like a white statue with grey eyes. Eldon opened his mouth and took a deep breath. This was the moment
that he had been waiting for. Eldon said in his head, “Surely she will help me if I compliment her.”
He slowly said “My name is Atlas. I came here to see you because I need your help. I am very sick and the last ingredient that I need for my medicine is a lock of hair from the most beautiful woman, so I came to you.”.
She replied with a soft voice, “Of course, how could I say no to an admirer.” She instantly tore a lock of her platinum hair and handed it to Eldon. He could feel his heart skip a beat when the hair reached his palm. “Atlas” gave his thanks and quickly packed up and left as soon as she was out of sight.
He was filled with excitement as he ran back to the corner where he grabbed a pot and saw that the seed that he had planted two days ago had just bloomed with three small yellow flowers. Eldon quickly picked two of the flowers and added them into the pot along with the lock of white hair and the feather of the sparrow. He added water as quickly as his hands would go, and started to stir and chant in the language of their ancestors. Line after line he could feel himself getting closer and closer. Then for the final step, he harvested a flame from his candle on a twig and added it to the pot.
Eldon stepped outside of his corner and realised that it was now hotter than his perfect corner. He scooped up some melting snow and added it to the pot and then stepped outside once again, but now it was warmer than winter but colder than spring. Eldon then tried adding snow and fire at the same time and then stepped outside for the last time and realised that he had finally matched the seasons.
Because of his knowledge he knew that the other temperatures that he accidentally created would stay, rotating in order from coldest to warmest, so he decided that the climate warmer than winter and colder than spring would be called “Autumn.” He decided to call the season warmer than spring “summer.” He looked down at Avon with loving eyes and knew that from today on, no other people born would have to endure the harsh winters of the past.
2025-2026
Parin Bayat, F7
The Emerald
Caedmon Robbins, Form 6
The kiwi rests on the table. Waiting to show off its beauty to the world.
In the moment, I feel the fuzzy brown skin against my hand as I gently stroke it on the table.
CHOP!
The emerald has emerged . A white stubborn center flows into a squishy green ocean with black fish swimming to the edge.
The black seeds cram their way to the back of my throat.
The delicious green ocean of flavor follows along with the seeds.
I bite again.
The odd mixed taste of lime and a vanilla shake that takes me back to the days of my summer in freedom. I swallow the last bite of kiwi, it’s gone.
The air delivers the leftover scent of the delicious flesh to me.
I miss the kiwithe emerald.
2025-2026
On A Faraway Island (A tribute to Orphan Island)
Charlotte Werkowitch, Form 6
On a faraway island the trees sway in the breeze. The meadows silent and sunny, The ocean water calm and placid, The sand soft and warm.
On a faraway island the plants bear fruits juicy and rich. The air is fresh and clear on moonlit nights and dazzling summer days.
On a faraway island, the stars and moon light the sky, illuminating the clear blue lake shimmering like the cerulean heavens of the day that lives long and ends with a colorful sunset signaling night.
On a faraway island a small boat gets swept ashore. A small child no older than three will step off and an older child will step on and leave for a citya long, long boat ride away.
On a faraway island nature awaits a new child to live in the palms of the original land so it can nurture the souls of the coming and going.
But if the cycle is broken……
2025-2026
The Pearls Hidden Within
Claudia Pena, F 6
Allow us to celebrate the beans of Cacao. Let us use her splendid shell to trade and earn us riches, and share our earnings with each other.
Let us crack open her shell and weave through her layers of armor, to reveal the pearls hidden beneath the bark.
Though she shows ridges and roughness, her hidden gentle truth will allow you to reveal the wonder carefully sealed deep within.
Allow us to use her gift of tangy pearls, and carefully wash and clean their sharp and sour exterior until they give way to the explosion of richness and grandeur of chocolate.
Let her shelter us like the beans she so carefully conceals.
Make us thank her for her gift of defense, her bitter exterior, her explosion of chocolate, and use them for the use of trade, of protection, and for the saccharine taste of the chocolate hidden within.
2025-2026
2025-2026
Olive Barnard, F6
Whitney Chen, F6
The Notebook
Della Fielder, F8
When I was little I always carried a book, I had a special place for it in my nook.
It had so many wonderful ways of use, So many worlds it could produce.
The greatest pirates’ mischievous plans, And a spy glass used to search and scan.
Drawing a scuba diver’s glistening ocean view, With all the colorful fish in the open blue.
Folding and folding it made a beautiful paper crane Or even a quick little paper plane.
I could be my favorite painter using my trusty brush, My paintings, a colorful burst of life, always gave me such a rush.
It was indeed my favorite toy, It brought me hours of laughter and joy.
There was nothing I couldn’t do or be, I just picked up my pen and paper- flip through the pages and you will see.
Evening Primrose
Della Fielder, Form 8
As I walked up the stairs I saw a tiny blur of yellow. I looked down to see a little golden flower as bright as the sun. I wondered how such a brilliant flower could bloom in the dark. That little flower, tall and fluorescent, would not be outdone.
As I strolled by, the sweet scent of lemon filled the air. It was a fragrance I would never forget. But all things must come to an end, The flower shriveled as the moon set.
Abegail Hockersmith, F7
Quiet Game
Ella
Winterbotham, Form 8
I was always good at the quiet game. Patiently sitting at the back of the car.
Kicking my feet, Though never too far As to hit the driver’s seat.
Staring and chewing
My lavender gum, the odd purple thing. The world went by, cows mooing, Horses stamping, trees waiting, all listening, too, as the radio sings.
I swallowed my pride, it burned going down. I kept silent, in the back of the black car, Wondering, quietly, when we would get to that town
With the peach trees and the old wooden bar. With the white picket fences and the smiling folk. With the straw hats and the scarecrow, Sitting, staring, too, just like me, under that yellow yolk Of warm summer sun and its great golden glow.
And just as we slowed, Gravel popping beneath worn tires, I smiled, showed
All of those rows of teeth, laced with wires, And––Whoops. Uh oh.
I spoke.
2025-2026
Stroke
Evie Shelton, Form 6
By the trees
I set my canvas, And begin.
I paint the rhythm Of the music, My paintbrush strokes the canvas, flowing Like a waterfall fast but sure.
I know every groove Of the canvas. As the paintbrush Becomes part of my hand.
I stroke
2025-2026
I sketch.
Taylor Swift comes On and I Let loose. When Painting, I feel like Van Gogh Where I can find some peace of Mind.
Alone with my thoughts but, not alone with my heart.
Della Fielder, F8
Holy Confessional
Josie Mewborne, Form 8
Friendship would be an offence, a disease for the mind. Decaying, pine for gentleness you bear true; pace Forth, and wither with a chance not taken. You are far too kind To see that madness has your face. O muse, turn, and I’ll paint your back if you do not love me; I beg, let the soft rose light stay plastered to your skin Faithfully. With you I feel selfish, hungry For your divine spirit. Original sin plagues my hands, while I devour the myth created Of you. Again I beg, I wish to rot, to look into the dark and see your very eyes Looking back. O how mad I must be!
2025-2026
F8
Josie Mewborne,
Emerson Bolner, F7
Della Feilder, F8
Toxic
Kasey Mitchell, Form 7
Day 411 since Earth was overcome with uninhabitable toxic gases. While laying on my side, I stare at the cold steel wall across from me. My clothes pool around my thin frame. My auburn hair falls over my face in soft waves. I hear distant footsteps echoing from the hall outside my room. I haven’t seen my parents in months. They’ve been busy leading the scientific project to make Earth livable again. And while they’re doing that, I’ve been, well, sitting in my cell-of-a -room, reading, listening to music, or staring out the window into the abyss. To be honest, Saturn doesn’t have the best view.
I hear footsteps approach my door. I look to the door instinctively, although I don’t expect anyone to actually come in. So when my door creaks open, I’m caught off guard. I stare as a girl about my age in a black jumpsuit steps inside. Her boots are silent on the carpet. She has curly blonde ringlets framing her face and a blank expression. She introduces herself as my mother’s assistant, Adeline.
“Hello Maxine.”
I stare at the floor. “What do you want?” I ask harshly.
“I don’t want anything,” she chuckles dryly, “but your mom does.” She motions for me to follow her.
We walk down a labyrinth of hallways and the air smells vaguely sterile. Eventually Adeline leads me to a huge steel door, covered with locks and deadbolts. Adeline swiftly enters a code, and every lock unlocks. Then, with one final clunk, the door swings open to reveal a lab. The first thing that hits me is the smell. Adeline hands me a mask, but the strong smell of chemicals and whatever else they have in here still seeps through the fibers of the mask. The room is huge. Like, the
size of a football field back on Earth. Everywhere I look there are scientists bent over tubes and microscopes. I continue to follow Adeline to the back of the lab to a private office.
Inside, my mother is bent over a microscope, and my dad is testing chemical samples.
“Hi Honey,” my mom says warmly.
“What’s the favor?” I ask flatly.
“How did you know I need a favor?”
“Really? You haven’t talked to me in months.”
“Okay, okay, well I’ve been busy!” She pauses for a moment. When I don’t say anything, she continues. “Anyway, here’s what I need you to do. Can you go down to Earth for me? We’ve finally found the source of the toxic gases, and we don’t have any volunteers for the job we need done.”
I wonder why. I think sarcastically.
“So I volunteered you. Just so you know; you don't have a choice.”
“Of course I don’t.” I grumble. “What do I need to do?”
She pulls on some glasses, and suddenly there is a holographic screen glowing in front of us. It shows a map. She points to a glowing dot on an island on the far left of what used to be Mexico “Right there, is Yellowstone, Hawaii. The toxic gases from the sulfur have gotten so strong that they overtook all of Earth. This is because it has seeped into the troposphere through huge cracks in the ground. Your assignment is to seal up those cracks. We already have all of your gear.”
As she says that, a compartment opens revealing a nuclear suit and a gas mask, along with a packed backpack and some sort of hoverboard.
“Here is the gear. My assistant will have you suited up. See you on Earth.”
Adeline grabs my hand and leads me to a door. She tells me how to put on my gear, what everything is for, and how to send a signal notifying them that I have to be picked up. After she leaves, I put on the crunchy yellow suit as fast as I can, then walk back into the other room. My mother and her team lead me to a ship dock where a weird pod-like airship is waiting. She straps me in, checks that the system is working, then closes the door. On the passenger seat, I notice a magma likesubstance bubbling.
Then suddenly, the ship jolts, and I’m in space. The ship beeps, then a holographic screen appears. It shows my mission, what materials I have, and how I can send signals for help. A few minutes later, we land. The door opens, and I step out to Earth. I was given a small compass that measures sulfur levels to tell me where to seal up cracks.
After I figured out where I have to go, I grab my new hoverboard and basically poke it until it beeps and floats. I grin a little, excited to try out a hoverboard. I step on the hoverboard, and it immediately spits me on the ground. Annoyed, I try again. And again. And again. Until I eventually get the hang of it and speed straight towards the center of toxic gases.
As soon as I got here, I immediately smell the toxic gases even through my mask. I hastily make my way over to the first crack, which is the size of two of me combined, and pour the boiling hot liquid down it. After a minute, it stops bubbling, becoming solid. The next one is a little farther away, so I take the hoverboard again and do essentially the same thing. Then I head on to the other thirteen cracks.
After every crack was done, I grab my hoverboard and head back to the pod. Once inside, I use the signal I was taught to call a larger ship to come get me. Almost immediately, Adeline shows up on the holographic screen, brushing her hair out of her face.
“I’m ready. And so is Earth.”
2025-2026
Emerson Bolner, F7
Liliana and the Socks
Alex Westgarth-Taylor, Form 6
Standing in the hallway of a tiny house was a girl with rosy cheeks and long blonde hair. Her mom, a slender woman, was holding the girl's head. This was a conversation that happened every day. Her mom would tell Liliana that she had to go to school because it was the only way she could grow up to be a smart and successful person. Liliana would always refuse, because ever since she was a little girl she had been scared to make any friends, resulting in her hatred of the loneliness of school. Her mom would begin to bargain, just like everyday. She would say that if they played one round of Liliana's favorite game she would go to school.
Her mom began to count. Liliana sprinted in the direction of the laundry room, her favorite hiding spot. She then proceeded to climb into the big dryer, a perfect spot to hide. Not too small that she felt claustrophobic and not too big that it was a prime spot for the seeker to check.
She closed the door and began to wait for about a minute or two when she heard a whirring sound. The longer she was in the dryer the louder the sound became. After five minutes the sound was so loud that she was about to just give up and find her mom. But that's not something Liliana does. She was a very determined hide-and-seek player, so she decided to wait a few more minutes. But before she could finish her thought it all went black!
Liliana awoke in a soft cocoon almost like a winter sock. She had a pounding sensation in the back of her head. Thinking that she was still in the dryer, she proceeded to open the door. She reached out her hand to unlock the latch but instead of feeling the cool sensation of the dryer metal she felt a warm scratchy wool like sensation. Confused, she pulled the cocoon away from her face, completely flabbergasted at the sight of three sock-like figures hoveringing over her face.
At first she couldn't understand what they were saying because of how loud the ringing in her ears was, but eventually their soft, almost mumble-like voices began to make sense. They were using words like “the child,” “the girl,” and “just her,” so her brain put together that they were speaking about her. After the foggy feeling of being completely clueless about what was happening began to wear off, she started to feel more and more aware that she was definitely not in her dryer any more. She started to scream. The sudden squeal frightened the socks so much that they began to scream too. Now that the socks were screaming, Liliana began to cry more. All the screaming, crying and squealing resulted in such a loud noise that more and more socks came to investigate. By the end of the opera performance, there were at least one hundred different colored socks looking like an exploded rainbow. Liliana crawled out of the cocoon. Eyes wide, her voice whimpered out the soft words, “Where am I?”
Immediately the short sock with green and blue buttons replied, “The Lands of Cozy Toes, a place where all the socks escape through the very dryer you were just inside.”
Liliana slowly turned her head away from the socks to gaze at the The Lands of Cozy Toes- a warm cotton kingdom with hills of fluff and feather, weathered walls of wool and plush plum trees. Liliana started to panic. A flood of worries washed over her. How did she get there? How would she get back? Was her mom worrying about her? With all the fear and worries built up inside her, she fainted.
Liliana awoke with three different socks gathered around her; one pink with green patches, one with a big bundle of fluff on top of their head and one with a distinct tear on where the owner would have put their pinky toe. The overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by strangers felt strongly like school, the only other place worse than this. So she stood up, and with all her strength she ran. She ran until her whole body was shaking and she could barely breathe.
Stopping next to a big plum tree she collapsed on the floor looking back on how far she had run. As her brain puzzled on how she
could have ended up here, a small voice almost unnoticeable murmured, “Don’t cry.”
Liliana was so frightened that she leaped up from squatting next to the tree so fast that the bird nesting in the tree above her exploded in a flurry of feathers. Standing up, she had to now figure out who had spoken to her.
Again the soft voice whispered, “I didn't mean to scare you.”
Liliana, now absolutely terrified, answered in the biggest voice she could muster, “Who are you?” which sadly only came out as a squeal.
Yet again the small voice responded, “I’m a tree of course.”
The tree in front of her began to sway its branches and rustle its leaves, proving to her that the small voice was in fact a tree after all. It asked if they could help. Liliana, almost yelling, responded with her situation. For the next three minutes the tree unsuccessfully tried to calm Liliana down. Instead of calming down Liliana begged the tree to tell her how to get out of sock paradise. The tree answered by telling her about The Tunnel. The Tunnel was thought to be mythical, but the tree reassured her that it was real. After the tree gave her the directions on how to get there, she set off.
The directions were fairly simple, she had to cross the river of threads and climb a hill of fluff. After walking for what she thought to be a mile or so she spotted the river of threads. In her mind she had pictured it as a calm smooth stream but what stood in front of her was the complete opposite. It was a raging soul-sucking river that looked to be at least three miles wide.
But nothing could stop Liliana; she had changed. Before this chaotic journey she was a shy timid mouse of a girl but now, she is a strong confident determined beast of a girl. Nothing could get in her way, not a mountain and certainly not a river. She stepped on the bridge, but this time she didn't walk, she didn't jog, she ran. She kept running until she was at the end of the bridge. Out of breath, she jumped off the bridge and walked with purpose to the beginning of the hill.
Liliana was awestruck at how steep the hill was, but instead of avoiding it like she would have done before she went for it. Using her finger nails to grip on to the rough wall, she finally made it to the top. Absolutely exhausted, she paused and admired how far she had come and how little she had to go. Once she had caught her breath, she gazed at the small tunnel that she was supposed to crawl through. Luckily Liliana had always been small for her age, so this tunnel would be a breeze. She took a deep breath and squeezed into the hole, plunging herself into darkness. One step at a time she scuttled through the tunnel. Almost at the end she thought, as a weak light shimmered in the distance. Once she made it to where the light was coming from she paused, hearing the same sound that she had heard when she was first sucked into The Land of Cozy Toes.
Like before, the sound got unbearably loud. Liliana breathed in and breathed out, and within a split second it all went black. Liliana awoke in her dryer, buzzing with excitement to be home.
She flipped the latch and burst out of the dryer . The bright light made her dizzy but nothing could dim down her happiness. Her mom came running in with smeared mascara and flushed cheeks. She screamed Liliana’s name and scooped her up in a big hug.
Liliana was finally home! 2025-2026
Combos and Quests
Luna Velasquez, Form 6
Since seven I’ve been online typing away fast and calculated. I level up over and over.
My dreams are filled With combos and quests to try.
The day starts and the day ends with the same keys: A, W, S, D, F, E, Q, SPACE.
The keys grow worn but conditioned. my fingers faster than ever.
The Combos call my name.
Special skill, jump kick Double hit, first bloodEach kill giving me Strength.
The screen pulls me in-
We become one In the online world Of Genshin Impact.
Luna Azul Velasquez, F6
Untitled Nora Mewborne, Form 6
“Are we still going to your house?”
I jumped in the seat next to Archer as I asked the question. The bus lurched forward, its sudden movements made me grab the seat in front of me to steady myself. “Yeah, my parents won’t be back until tomorrow. Empty house!”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tate popped up from the row behind us, their hair covering their worry filled eyes.
“It will be fine. We told our parents where we’re going so they know where we are.” I reassured Tate. Archer stayed still for a bit, clearly trying to remember the bus stop his parents texted him. “I think this is our stop.” He decided. The wheels screeched and pulled to a stop. Archer leaped over me to start walking down the aisle. “Hey!” I laughed. I get up and chase after him, and Tate follows. Once we all get off, we follow Archer towards his house, or what we thought was his house.
“Archer, where are we going?” I asked. Tate nodded, "we've been walking in circles.” We stopped walking, facing the street. Tate swiped Archer’s phone from his pocket. They buried their head in their hands, exasperation reeking off them. “We got off at the wrong stop.” I sighed and turned to say something to Archer, but paused as I saw him looking up at where we stopped.
An amusement park, but one with leaves everywhere, and rusty rides. One that's closed. Archer’s eyes gleamed sneakily, the kind of look that meant that he was up to something. “What if-” I shot Archer a look, and he went silent. My mind wandered, pulling me deeper towards the pale white faces, and the bright red nose, and the creepy smile that rested on the faces of clowns. I shivered, the hair on the back of my neck rising. I glanced at Tate, the serious one, the one who worried about everything, the only one who could convince Archer, and was surprised to see them looking excited. A flash of guilt crossed Tate’s face as their gaze shifted to me. “Fine,” I swallowed, pushing back my fears. They were the one who put up with all of our shenanigans.
I zoned out after the entrance gate creaked open.
Screeching filled the world as I jolted out of my daydream. I looked around wildly in search of the noise. Lights started spiraling out of something in the horizon.
Either Archer or Tate, pointed. It was dark. When did it get dark? I could just hear over the creaking noise, someone yelled, “Ferris wheel!”
I looked at the lights, squinting hard enough that I could see a wheel rotating. Something clattered behind us, and we spun on our heels. A trash can was knocked over on the ground. We heard the leaves on the ground crunching from all around. Then, the lights powered down, and the screeching ground to a halt. We all breathed a sigh of relief. Tate started fidgeting with one of those amusement park coins that they found on the ground.
Tate definitely wanted to leave.
Archer definitely wanted to stay.
I compromised: as soon as we found out what was going on, we left. We trudged down the now dark, leaf covered, pathway. After a while, we saw a control center. Archer grabbed a stick from the ground, went to the door, and pushed it open with the stick. The door creaked, and I stepped inside.
I heard them first, little chitters coming from everywhere in the room. As my eyes adjusted to the dim brightness, I saw them: stripey tails, masked faces, eyes reflecting yellow from the light of the doorway. Raccoons. Baby raccoons.
Archer and Tate peeked inside, but I wasn't focused on them. I was focused on what had caused the ferris wheel to turn on. The mother raccoon. The mother was holding onto a shiny piece of the control panel. She would never let go unless it came with her. Tate pushed past me and shushed me as they inched their park coin into the light, where it shimmered. The mother’s eyes caught on the new thing that was more exciting than a piece of the control panel, picked it up, and walked past us out the door. Sensing that she was leaving, the babies followed their mother, one by one.
I breathed deeply, there were never any creepy smiles, or red noses, only raccoons and leaves in this abandoned amusement park. 2025-2026
Olive Barnard, F6
Olive Barnard, F6
Singing Through Life
Nunu Barajas, Form 6
At full volume, I connect the mic Click!
Check the sound, “Testing, testing” And find myself. I know the tricks To high and low notes. I can feel the rhythm In my heart. I flow with The music and dance.
I sing in the shower, With a great echo. In the car with my mom. On stage for others. In my soul for love.
When playing with my band, the strings of the guitar shake, the floor moves from the drums, a staccato or a legato. We play in harmony.
Just by using
Do, Re, Mi…
I can create a song and sing. Everything around me is an instrument: spoons, jar, cereal. They are my song.
I sing through life. When I am sad, happy, or mad. The microphone talks to me: “ Show your voice to others.” “Share your talent now and forever.”
I will sing through life.
2025-2026
Josie Mewborne, F8
Carmen Woodward, F6
A World In a Book
Olive Barnard, Form 6
Alone in my room
Jolted awake by the cars passing by, I climb out of bed, walk over to the book shelf. My fingers glide along their colored spines.
I choose one, a bright blue cover Fingers enclosing over the tome. Pulling it out, I sit on the bed
fingers running over the title. Finding the edge, I open it up.
The smell of old books fills the air like entering a library old and musty. Each day, each passage, Woven together like one and the same. Each word is a transporting journey. Slowly my room melts away, and I enter a world beyond worlds A world in a book.
Colors, characters,stories and worlds race by. One comes into view. The dark streets of London town
Suddenly, I can see the world fold out all around me, a vivid mix of light and dark.
Too soon morning arrives. Pulled from my little world, sun streams through the window. I place the book back on the shelf. A world in a book.
2025-2026
A Fruit of My Childhood
Rosa Carle-Valenzuel, Form 6
I know you, watching you grow in the yard, Waving a silent hello to you when I get back from school.
I know you, running outside to pick you but pricking my finger on your glorious green crown.
I know you, running my fingers down your spiny shell that protects your treasure, cutting you open your yellow glow lighting up my face.
I know you, dancing around the patio with my sister, juice dripping down our chins. The liquid falling onto the hot pavement like summer rain.
I know you, saving your sharp tiara to plant you again, To grow you again, to share memories with you again.
I know you, your sweet scent still floating in the the room like a soft cloud.
Luke Turner, F6
Flowers Dance in The Breeze
Olivia Barnett, Form 6
Out on the ranch, I hear the wind howling, I know every root These woods hold. I jump a root, duck a branch, dodge, and jump again until the path clears its way.
I sprint as fast as a startled doe until I spot the white flowers, glowing in the evening light. I grasp the stem, feeling each ridge and leaf.
Plucking the Valerian from where the root digs into the ground, I observe each petite white flower that makes up the messy bunch.
Touching the tip of my nose to the petals, I gently sniff the flower cautious not to inhale petals.
I raise my head and spot more flowers, dancing in the cold breeze.
Joy bolts through me like lightning bashing a copper rod.
2025-2026
Of Color And Of Dreams
Sanvi Goyal, Form 8
If I had one thing that I’d like to say
To those with discriminatory ways, It would be that inside, we’re all the same.
No matter whether one’s black, brown, or white, We all are the same, my mother taught me.
No matter faith, Hindu, Jewish, or none, We all are the same, my mother taught me.
No matter class, rich, poor, or alive, We all are the same, my mother taught me.
Leo Alexander, F8
Shadows
Benny Prado, Form 7
October 5th, 1986
James Maverick woke to his parents standing over him, a present at the end of his bed and eight balloons tied to one of the posts.
“Happy birthday!” His parents said loudly. James jolted up, instantly awake. He scooted to the end of the bed and pulled the single, neatly wrapped present towards him.
Giggling happily, James began ripping the wrapping paper off.
“Don’t go too quickly,” his father warned, chuckling. “Today is a very special day, and I want you to have the time of your life! Savor it…”
After a few anticipating seconds, as Mom and Dad held their breath, and James ripped the wrapping paper off of the package, a hole began to appear, revealing the words: ‘DynaTAC’.
He tore off the remaining wrapping paper and uncovered the very thing he had wanted most for his birthday; a brand-new portable phone set; the very one he wanted!
“Use it when you need to contact us.” Dad said, pulling his very own phone from his back pocket.
James jumped up and wrapped his arms around both of his parents.
“Thank you…” He whispered. “You’re welcome honey.” Mom said.
After a short morning, consisting of two more birthday presents, and probably a hundred hugs and kisses from his family, he was finally excused to go over to his friend Carl’s house.
When James got there, he bounded up the stairs to the porch and knocked on the door.
“Helloo—is there anybody home? Today’s my birthday, and I was wondering if we could hang out…”
Silence.
“Carl?” he said again, knocking harder. “I got something to show you!”
A muffled voice came from inside, too quiet to make out.
“Carl, I can’t hear you! Open the—”
The door swung open so suddenly it knocked him sideways. Standing there was Carl’s mom.
She looked— wrong. Her hair was gray and wild, sticking out in uneven tufts that shadowed her eyes. Her torn shirt clung to her thin frame, stained with dirt — and something darker. Her knees were bloody. Her bare feet were blue, her toenails thick and yellow.
“Ms. Mulberry?” James asked, his voice trembling.
She didn’t answer, just grunted and motioned for him to come inside.
“Is Carl here?” he asked, trying to sound polite, though every instinct screamed at him to run.
Another grunt. And a violent wave of her hand toward the dark hallway.
“I think I should go, my mom’s probably worried,” he lied.
Without a word her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Her skin was cold, like wet clay. Before he could pull away, she yanked him inside.
James froze in the doorway, the air was thick and rotten. The door slammed behind him, making him jump.
“He’s right down here,” she rasped, her voice dry and broken. It didn’t sound human. She shuffled forward, and James followed, his sneakers scuffing against the filthy floor. Something soft rolled under his foot. He looked down.
A body.
Its face was shredded and hollow, its eyes gouged out and tossed beside it like marbles. James clapped a hand over his mouth to stop a scream.
“I—I really gotta go,” he stammered.
“Go?” She said, like the word didn’t make sense. “You will not be going anywhere!”
Before James could speak another word, she dragged him deeper inside, the hallway stretching on endlessly, lined with flickering bulbs that hummed like flies. A stench filled the air, like copper and decay, it made him dizzy.
But as he stumbled through the dark room, another corpse caught his eye, removing his attention from the room in front of him. While his eyes were diverted, he didn’t realize Ms. Mulberry had stopped, and he walked right into her.
“Is this who you came for?” she asked, her voice a low growl.
James looked where she was looking and gasped.
There, against the far wall, was Carl.
Unlike the other bodies, Carl’s was mostly intact, but a dark shade of blue film coated his skin, making him almost unrecognizable. And then James saw his eyes. At the sight of them, he stumbled backward, tripping and falling right into a pool of cold, sickly liquid that surrounded a shadowed… something.
But then it groaned. “help–” James crawled as far away as he could until he hit the wall.
The apparently not-so-dead person reached out a hand and grabbed his leg. James shrieked and yanked it back.
“None of that…” Ms. Mulberry chided from right beside him, in that horrible rasp. “You don’t want to wake IT up do you?”
James didn’t know who—or what ‘it’ was, but he certainly didn’t want to find out.
She inched closer, looming over him. James couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t listen. He scooted back, heart hammering, as something cold brushed his shoulder.
Trembling, James reached for his phone and tried dialing home. His fingers slipped as he shook with terror. It rang twice, then clicked.
“Mom!” he yelled into the receiver, completely forgetting about ‘it’.
“Dad?! SOMEBODY!! PLEASE ANYBODY!”
His voice cracked, and in a final, weak whisper: “please—” A tear slid down his cheek.
“Hello?! Son, is that you?” a voice said.
“Mom?!”
“Yes, honey, it’s me. What’s the matter?” James tried to speak, but a cold skeletal hand clamped over his mouth.
“Honey? James?” his mom said. He made a muffled sound under Ms. Mulberry’s grip.
“James? The signal’s breaking up. You know these phones… They're pretty new. I’m gonna hang up and call you back, okay?” The line clicked and the hum of the house pressed in again. Then, faintly at first, came a whisper.
“James…” He froze. The voice wasn’t coming from the phone. It was behind him.
Another whisper joined it. Then another. Until the air itself began to crawl; a macabre harmony that droned on, vibrating his brain and skull.
“AHH!” he shouted in pain as he clawed at his head.
Voices rose from all around him — from the walls, the ceiling, somewhere deep beneath the floorboards. Soft, broken voices — crying, laughing, pleading — a hundred of them speaking his name at once.
“James… come with us… stay…” He clapped his hands over his ears, shaking his head.
“Stop! Stop it!” he cried. With his hands still over his ears, he ran forward, towards the only door. The only hope.
He grasped the door handle and pulled. But it was jammed shut. A sinister laugh echoed around the room. He tugged as hard as he could, but… nothing.
“STAY! STAY! STAY!” A thousand voices chanted over and over, every one seemed to come from the walls, vibrating the whole room.
A shrill scream issued through the wall to his left; he looked around for an escape. There were no windows, and no other door besides the one right in front of him.
As James tugged harder and harder on the door, he noticed a red liquid oozing from the cracks along the edge of the door. It was Blood.
James shrieked in surprise and jumped back.
“We’ll always be with you James.” His mother said. “Always.” On the always, the voice spiraled down into an ominous growl. He realized this time the voice came from the phone he still held in his sweaty hand. “Mom?? MOM!?”
Suddenly the whispers stopped. All sound fading to nothing. It was quiet throughout the house for a total of two seconds, before another gut wrenching scream split through the air like a bullet, as a humanoid figure clawed itself out of the door’s keyhole.
James backed up fast away from the door but tripped and fell into a twenty-foot deep hole he could’ve sworn hadn’t been there.
James could hear the humanoid figure lurching toward him as he pushed himself as far into the dirt wall as he could. Then the thing looked down at him. Its mouth was full of jagged teeth that stuck out at weird angles.
James trembled as he sat there, helpless. To his right, an evil cackle started, hoarse and empty.
James turned his head and saw Ms. Mulberry. She sat beside him, acting like she had been there all along.
“You’ll become one of us now.” Her voice was a low growl that echoed around the room, as if billions of speakers, hidden in the walls, amplified her voice.
Suddenly she yelled something in ancient Greek, and the monster jumped down into the hole at his feet.
She laughed, a horrible laugh, that vibrated the entire house, and then she fell to the ground, shaking violently like she was having a seizure. Black liquid dripped from her mouth, and her eyes rolled back in her head as they dissolved.
Her body suddenly began to melt, slowly. Blood stains started appearing in random places across her already-dirty dress. Her face sunk inwards like how the bodies in other rooms looked.
James tried to scream, but before he had time to react, a scorpion-like stinger shot from the monster's mouth and struck him, sinking into his stomach.
The world went white. He gasped, feeling warmth pour down his shirt.
James slumped back against the wall, no strength left. The sound of buzzing lights fading into nothing.
And then— silence.
What a birthday it had been. 2025-2026
The Tide Changes
Sanya Singh, Form 8
Friendship doesn’t arrive loudly; It slips between moments, In laughter that feels effortless, In the comfort of being understood.
We think it will stay the same, Fixed and certain, Like something time won’t touch.
But people move, Quietly, gradually, Towards lives we can’t always follow.
Voices change. Silences grow. And what once felt close Begins to shift.
Still, nothing is truly lost.
It lingers in who we’ve become; In the way we laugh, The way we trust, The way we remember.
Maybe friendship isn’t meant to last unchanged, But to leave something behind That does.
2025-2026
Wings like a Phoenix
Sanya Singh, Form 8
Death walks in quietly, A shadow with gentle wings, Brushing past the edges of our days, Watching our hourglasses run out.
She leans on the trees, Telling leaves when to fall, Guiding rivers back to the sea, Turning loss into the promise of return.
When young children pass we may call her cold. When parents go on we may call her cruel. Yet we all know the truth, She doesn't have a choice.
She bends close to our world, Turning endings to gentle beginnings, Showing that nothing truly vanishes, Just rises again in a different form.
From the ashes of yesterday, A new shape will emerge, A light or an idea of what will grow next, A promise that life always finds a way.
In that rising, We see her not as an end, But as a controller of the cycles. The phoenix-winged keeper of tomorrow.
2025-2026
Makenna Graf, F7
Emma Farret, F7
Taylor Martinez, F8
Luke Vaello, F8
The Girl and the Boy
Vivienne Gentis, Form 8
On the mulch, at a school’s playground, Shouting with all their might, Were a young Girl and a young Boy, Having a great big fight.
Said the Boy to the Girl, “How small and weak you are!”
“You will never be able to perceive The feats I will achieve!
For it is me they will pick To be the hands of labor. You should see me in the workforce, Helping the world in ways you wish you could!”
“You are a great help Performing all these hefty tasks, But what I do for the world, you can’t,” Replied the Girl to the Boy.
“Would they ever count on you To fly across an ocean solo?
Try inventing computer circuits, too. I’d love to see just how well you’d manage.
We’re made for different things; You're not as superior as you claim.” 2025-2026
