Penchant 7.2

Irvington High School’s Creative Writing Club is a student-run, interest-based club dedicated to providing a welcoming environment for writers of all kinds to convene and share their ideas outside of an academic setting. Members get a taste of publication through submitting to The Penchant, our online literary magazine. Meanwhile, monthly prompts, in-club competitions, and major writing contests are provided to allow members to explore the implications of writing, improve on their own techniques, and receive feedback from their fellow peers. Overall, our collective mission is to enable the students of Irvington to write what they wish and have their voices heard.

All images used are either submitted to us or public domain, CC0 photos. All rights remain reserved to their original owners, for those that have specified such guidelines.

Photo Credits:

Cover Photos by Photoholgic (front) and Claudio Mezzasalma (back) on Unsplash

iii| Photo by Kiwihug on Unsplash

iv| Photo by Ave Calvar (left) and Joel Filipe (right) on Unsplash

1| Photos by NBC and Lloyd Bishop on NBC

2| Photos by Alex Guillaume (top) and Claudio Mezzasalma (bottom) on Unsplash

3| Photo by Scott Gummerson on Unsplash

5| Photos by Luis Villasmil (bridge) & Adam Przeniewski on Unsplash, corset ribbon on Pinterest

6| Photo on PresenterMedia

7| Photo by Jacob Smith on Medium

9| Photo by Rick Rothenberg on Unsplash

10| Photo by Paul Volkmer on Unsplash

12| Photo by Jeb Buchman on Unsplash

12| Photo by 8machine _ on Unsplash

13| Photo by Ave Calvar on Unsplash

14| Photo by Andre Benz on Unsplash

16| Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

17| Photos by Michael Mouritz on Unsplash

19| Photo by Joel Filipe on Unsplash

21| Photo by Ed Leszczynskl on Unsplash

22| Photo by Édouard Bossé on Unsplash

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CULT MEMBERS

Irvington Creative Writing Club

Khloe Fong Sophie Leung

My Son Is SethMeyers And I Hate Him by seth meyer’s dad

Horror Short Story Contest Winners 2024

My Son Is Seth Meyers And I Hate Him

by seth meyers’ dad

to the tune of My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, wrinkled old ladies and snake leather mittens, Lava lakes, wooden stakes, whiskey and meth, these are the things that I give my son Seth.

Coke bottles empty from years of consumption.

Souls tainted black with decades of corruption. Cancerous lungs and a poisonous chef, I leve these things in the bed of dear Seth.

Torn-up notes, sinking boats, high unemployment

Moth-ridden coats and failed life raft deployment

When lightning strikes, I hope it starts a fire

These are what I leave behind to Seth Meyers.

When a plane flies I die inside

No one should feel that high I cackle and grin at these hideous things

These glorious dreams, oh my

by serin wee

Ode to the Geese

Geese, oh ignorant geese, why do you take a dump in our field?

Wherever there is green grass, that seems to you as a free toilet.

The fields and public parks are littered with poop long afer you leave.

The Seagull

As the bell rings afer lunch, the seagull lurks.

As the crowd of adolescent humans rush to their next destination, the seagull pounces.

Diving headfirst into the basketball court, the seagull attacks.

As it fights with other competitors for scraps of junk, the seagull prevails.

Satisfied with its meager earnings, the seagull marks an unfortunate human with its droppings.

How to Attract Your Smart Crush

1. Show your schedule full of APs and Honors

2. Whip out your SAT prep book

3. Flex your SAT score

4. Recite the alphabet

5. Recite the whole periodic table

6. Memorize more than 5 digits of pi

7. Bribe your crush’s friends to praise you

How to Not Attract Your Smart Crush

1. 2+2=?

Best Biology Pick Up Lines on the Internet

1. You are the glue that links my Okazaki fragments together

2. If we were chromosomes, you would be my homologous pair

3. Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you

Calling For a Babysitter!

I’m currently a full-time stay at home mother and I’m looking to hire a babysitter! I can pay $200 a week to the individual who can complete the following responsibilities:

– Clean the house

– Watch over the child

– Cook for the child or buy food for the child

– This isn’t covered by the salary and will be out of your own pocket

– Drive the child home from school

This will take up 7 hours of your time per day, which is little considering the pay. If you are interested, please reach out by email or phone.

How to Attract Artists

*The author does not take responsibility for any negative attention garnered from doing the following actions

1. Don’t clean your paint brushes

2. Color outside of the lines

3. Break your color pencils in half

4. Support AI art

5. Mess up something organized by color

Are You A Red Flag Roomate?

1. You use their toiletries without permission

2. You use their cooking supplies without permission

3. You don’t replace the toilet paper

4. You use their nail clipper

5. You eat their food

6. You blare music at 7 AM

GRAY KOO FIRST PLACE

echoing down the narrow hallway. A calendar on the wall barely pinned up by a bent thumbtack

October 13.

You've been here a thousand times before. You know your little girl screams every time you have to leave for the night, but what can I do? You could barely afford to pay for your meds and your daughter's school supplies this August, the guilt still nagging at your mind. The least I could do is suck it up for a few hours and somehow climb up the growing pile of debt. You throw on your lab coat, ready for another long night of removing and preserving before the autopsies. You've seen it all. There's not much else to

expect from a reserved, quiet town in the middle of nowhere. Everyone knows everyone. Even if everyone hates me. You step into the freezer, rows and rows of metal shelves. A feeling of dread washes over you as you open the first unit. Your heart stops. Blue eyes stare back– mine, glossed over. Cold face– lies there–looks almost identical– my own. Small golden braids are laced–ribbon, wrapping around her neck–chokehold. Red rims your vision, hands shaking–reach towards her

face. It can't be, no, it must–

The front door squeaks–freeze, shaking traveling– entire body– paralyzing. You hear rain pouring– wind slamming the door open– around the corner– out of sight. You whip your head around– open freezer door, alarm

screaming– my mind. It hadn't been raining– ago, had it? Nothing bad– in the morgue before. Nobody– over in months. You shudder– gather my senses before quietly shutting the unit compartment, and my eyes don't dare leave the wall outside the freezer door.

You slowly start stepping towards the door, your eyes blurring from tearing up. You blink hard as you approach the freezer door. You cautiously peek out. Nothing. Relief begins to creep back into your body as you close the front door. Crazy weather can hardly

be heard of in this drought of a town, but it couldn't be impossible–

The relief drains out in a second– silhouette catches– eye. Your hands start– shake on the doorknob again– you realize who she– No. I took my meds. There's no way she's there. But she– standing under the streetlamp, wet hair flying– the wind.

It's

a Friday, Daddy.

You were supposed to take me out to dinner. Your body–freeze. I took my meds this morning, right? Your vision–blurry, and high-pitched scream echoes– she doubles over, clutching her ribbon-tied neck–blood begins pouring– her mouth.

No. Your feet take off towards her– can't even register the sight. The line between rain and tears becomes thinner and thinner– she fades away faster and faster. No. I can't be a failure.

Everything I've loved– dead. My own mind– taking my daughter away from me. No. She's mine, she's the only thing that keeps me alive, she–She's gone. I scream– she disappears through my outstretched fingertips, my body collapsing under my feet– my face rains and the sky cries and the river roars and the wind laughs at me– I rain and I rain and I rain– the bridge falling– I can't breathe, I can't scream– the water drowns me in pitch black.

**** I work lonely nights–morgue. But it's the thousand and first time– down the old wooden bridge–single streetlamp–the river to isolation– sleepy town, the smell of grass and something more– the cracks of the windows– my old truck. The thousand and first time I park– dead grass– brick building, kicking–door that screeches– single touch, echoing–narrow hallway. A calendar– wall barely pinned– bent thumbtack reads October 13.

I've been here a thousand and one times before.

PLACE

SECOND

SOPHIA L UO

“We’re gonna be okay, okay?” You squeezed my hand. I took that as a yes and plunged into darkness.

—

[Two girls are sitting on a bench. The sun is setting.]

MIAROAH: You can’t hide forever.

FARRINE: I know, M.

—

“Do you see anything?”

MIAROAH: You mean that [illegible] is hunting you? You aren’t funny.

FARRINE: Why would I lie?

it’s coming for you, why don’t you leave?

FARRINE: It’s not coming for me, it’s coming for you.

—

MIAROAH: Why don’t you forget it? This place is cursed.

FARRINE: [angry] So then we burn it down!

I heard the wind whistle, then silence. You screamed.

—

MIAROAH: If you’re so sure that

I sat in the police station. The lights were blinding.

“What’s your name?”

“Rhia Mao.”

“Miss Mao. What were you doing when the fire started?” the policeman asked.

“I was practicing for a play I was doing with my friend.”

“Why were you at the school specifically?”

“It’s nice there, and close by. I usually go on walks every night there anyway.”

—

“Did you see anything out of the ordinary before it happened?” I hesitated. “I thought so. But I wasn’t—I didn’t know if I was hallucinating. It was so dark.”

—

FARRINE: Did you bring the gasoline?

MIAROAH: Who do you think I am?

“I saw a shadow,” I continued. “And I thought I saw flames. But they

were colorless. I couldn’t place them.” —

[The streetlights go out. A rattling noise is heard. MIAROAH freezes, grabbing FARRINE’s hand.]

MIAROAH: Did you hear that?

FARRINE: [hesitates] Probably just a blackout. Haven’t those been happening lately?

—

“Why were you lying on the ground in the woods when we arrived?”

My eyes started watering. “Behind the school, there’s a path to the other side, but it was dark. I heard someone

scream, almost right next to me, but there was no one there. It startled me. I think I tripped.”

FARRINE: What are we doing, M?

MIAROAH: [furiously] That’s a funny question, Farrine.

FARRINE: [quietly] Did I ask for this?

—

“Is this your script?” The policeman holds up a thin packet. “Can you tell me what this story is about?”

I slump down in my chair. “It was an English project, we were supposed to adapt or write a play and perform it. My partner insisted on writing it herself.”

FARRINE: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, M.

MIAROAH: Not helpful.

—

“What are these illegible spots?”

I looked down. “It was supposed to be the name of a monster she thought of. But I couldn’t spell it, so it just looks like a mess.”

FARRINE: [with fear] It’s coming it’s coming it’s coming. M. Mia. Miaroah!

—

“So it’s a coincidence that your script

discusses arson?”

I sat back in disbelief. “Surely you can’t be suggesting there are monsters too.”

“Let me get this straight. You were at the high school from 7:30 to 8:20 PM. When the fire started at 8:23, you ran into the woods. Why?”

“Why not?”

—

MIAROAH: Why won’t you say my name?

FARRINE: [stays silent]

—

“Why won’t you say her name?”

—

MIAROAH: [squeezing FARRINE’s hand] We’re gonna be okay, okay?

—

I frowned. “Whose name?”

—

FARRINE: Do you see anything?

This gave the officer pause. “The girl you were with. Your partner. The one who disappeared.”

[The girls are in the woods. FARRINE screams, and MIAROAH turns around.]

MIAROAH: [disappointed] I warned you, didn’t I?

“No.” I shook my head. “Ani was at the football game. She never disappeared.”

—

[MIAROAH is surrounded by colorless fire. FARRINE lays on the ground, unmoving.]

—

“I was practicing alone. She’s not missing.” No response. “Please, sir. Is she?” Nothing. “Ani, please, you can’t be missing,” I

your face. “Did you miss me, M?” —

[MIAROAH starts walking offstage. The lights flicker. MIAROAH turns around, visibly

across from her.

Lonnie, who was the previous housesitter, told her about the neighborhood curfew, where she would stay, what food to make, etc., then handed her a folded piece of paper. After, Lonnie stood and exited quickly, wishing her luck on the house sitting. She was out of the door so fast that entered the floral, tacky living room, taking a seat across from a pale, gaunt girl. When she had initially seen the ad for house-sitting in the newspaper, she had thought it too good to be true, as the job only required her to keep the house clean and Grandma alive. For $100 an hour, the job seemed like the easiest money she would ever make. Now, looking at the creepy house, she was having second thoughts, but she had rent to pay, so

THIRD PLACE SHIVI CHOPRA

Madeline had not even gotten a chance to read the mystery paper. Madeline unfolded the paper and realized that it was a list of Grandma’s rules:

1. When the sun begins to set, lock all of the doors and the windows. If something is open at nighttime, barricade yourself in the bathroom after removing anything red in the bathroom.

2. If you hear strange noises upstairs, do NOT investigate. Barricade anything red in the kitchen, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

3. Grandma will want to play cards with you. Only play with Grandma if the card deck is blue. If the card deck is red, make up an excuse to not play.

4. If there is a blood moon outside at night, barricade all of the doors and windows and lock yourself in the bathroom. Keep all of the lights on.

5. Lastly, and most importantly, a little girl in pigtails may come. Her name is Bonnie, and if her pigtails are tied in a blue ribbon, let her in! Give her some cookies, and let Grandma know she is here. If the pigtails are red, DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR. Run for your life, barricade yourself in the red-free bathroom, and pray to any gods that you may believe in that she did not see you. Grandma cannot help you if she finds you.

GRANDMA’S R U L E S

Madeline, upon completing the list, scoffed in disbelief. What was Grandma’s problem with red and nighttime? She felt that Grandma was far too old for such nonsense, but she had no say and wanted the money, so she memorized the rules before going upstairs to greet Grandma. Over the next couple of weeks, Madeline found herself warming up to the old geezer. She told Madeline childhood stories and played cards with her. Despite not knowing the rules, Grandma claimed they were important, so Madeline followed

them. She locked the doors and windows and removed everything red. One night, she had missed a red rose on her nightstand. She woke up at exactly 11:11, paralyzed and terrified as an open window blew rain onto her face and someone giggled in her ear. The following morning, the window was closed and locked, and everything was dry, so Madeline chalked it up to a nightmare.

Regardless, she did not make that mistake again, or so she thought.

3 weeks later, a blood red moon peeked through clouds, and a powerful storm slammed against the thin walls.

Madeline, terrified, had locked herself into the bathroom, and Grandma slept upstairs. A powerful crack of thunder knocked out the power, and Madeline heard sudden banging at the front door. Madeline tried hiding, but she heard a child's voice screaming for help. Madeline reluctantly left the safety of her room and ran to the front door, looking through the peephole.

Outside, a girl, no older than 8, stood outside sobbing and drenched. Madeline instantly recognized Bonnie, Grandma’s granddaughter, from her description in the rules, and Grandma yelled something unintelligible from

upstairs. Madeline, stupidly, let her in, and the little girl with her blood-red ribbons grinned up at Madeline. Grandma began running down the stairs as quickly as her arthritis would let her, begging Madeline to run, but it was too late.

Madeline couldn’t even scream before she was engulfed in the darkness that had once been a little girl.