YOUNG SOUTHERN STUDENT WRITERS 2025WINNERS GRADES6-12POETRY ANDPROSE INTRODUCTION ItisarealpleasuretobeapartoftheYoungSouthern StudentWriterscontest,anannualcelebrationofcreative writinginHamiltonCounty.Frominteractingwithour region’soutstandingteachersandfacilitatingjudgingat UT-Chattanooga,toassemblingthiscollectionofwinning submissions,YSSWismyfavoritepartoftheacademicyear. Thiscontestexiststopromoteliteracyandamplifythe creativeenergyofemergingwriters.Thesubmissionsthat followdemonstratestrongwritingwhilealsoprovidinga glimpseintothewildimaginationofyoungminds.Thank youtothisyear’swritersandtheirteachers.You’vegivenus allmuchtothinkabout,enjoy,andappreciate.
ManythankstoSoLit’sChelseaRisley,whosegenerosity andsupportofourarea’soutstandingyoungwritersis integraltothecontest’ssuccess.Thepartnershipbetween SoLitandtheUTCEnglishDepartmenteffectively promotesandcelebratestheregion’sliteraryarts.Iam thankfulforhercollaborationinthiseventandlookforward toanexcitingfutureaswelooktogrowthiscontestand elevateevenmoreyoungwriters.
Ialsowanttothanktheregion’sdedicatedK-12teachers whoworktirelesslytoinstillthevalueofliteratureand creativewritinginyoungheartsandminds.Iamgratefulfor theireffortsastheyteachtheirstudentstoenjoytheartand craftofwriting.Withoutourelementary,middlegrades,and highschoolEnglish/LanguageArtsteachersalongwith parentsandguardians,wewouldnothavesuchfineworkto celebratehere.
Thanksarealsoduetothisyear’scontestjudges.Each submissioniscarefullyreadbyafacultymemberfromthe UTCEnglishDepartment.Ourfacultyvolunteertoserve inthiscapacitywithpleasure.Infact,itisnotuncommonto hearthemsharingsubmissionsthatareespeciallyfunny, creative,orinspiring.Itisanotherwaywecontributetothis wonderfulcityandregion.
ThankyoutoElizabethWeems,anoutstandingUTC undergraduateEnglishmajor,whoservedasthisyear’s managingeditor.Elizabethworkedtirelesslytofacilitate judging,compilewinningsubmissions,andcreatethisyear’s digitalbooklet.Shehasspentcountlesshoursmanagingthe contestandhasdonesowithpatience,grace,andmaturity.
Last,butnotleast,thankyoutoDr.JessicaMcCarthy,the contest’sfacultyeditor,whosewizardrywithExcel spreadsheetskeptthiscontestorganizedandontrack. Now,withoutfurtherado,Ihopeyou’llreadandenjoy!
AndrewD.McCarthy UCFoundationAssociateProfessor UniversityofTennessee-Chattanooga
SIXTHGRADE PROSE WAITINGFORTHESUNRISE Iamwaitingforthesunriseonthedock.Iamwaiting forthatbig,orange,radiantthingcalledthesuntorise. HereIamsittinginalawnchaironthedock,acupof coffeeinonehand,abiscuitintheother.Thisday,I alreadyknow,willbegood.Mysweetbabygirlsareon thelawn,playingwithourdogHunter.Mydearwife, Sandy,sitsnexttomedoingthedailycrosswordpuzzle inthenewspaper.Formethough,Isit,lookingoutinto theblanksky,seeingitasacanvas.I,JoannaNola Katz,amapainter.Mywifeisadancer.Sheisthebest knowninthewholestateofTennessee.Youmightbe wonderingwhyIamsittingonthedock,lookingatthe sunrise.Today,myeldestwife,Lana,isgetting married.SandyandIaresoproudtobeapartofher wedding,aswellasherlife.Lanahashadahardlife. Shehadtowitnessmyex-husband,Ezra,gothrough manyproblems.HewasaterriblefatherandsoIleft him.Likeineverysadmovie,thewifeleavesthe husband.That'swhatmylifewasforawhile.Asad movie.UntilImetSandy.Wemetinadivorced woman 'sclub.2yearslater,wegotmarried.Iproposed onthetopoflookoutmountain.Abeautifulsightto see.Iwaswaitingforthesunrise,thenIproposed. That'swhywecometolookouthereeverymorning. Wewaitforthesunrise.Toremindusofouryouthful daysandhappytimes.
Peoplealwayscomplainaboutbecomingold,butI enjoyit.Ithasthisfeelingtoit.Afeelingofreliefand freedom.Likewemadeit.Wearealiveandwedidit.
Well,Ican’treallybesayingthis,I’monly44.I rememberbackinmy20’s,meandmygirlfriendatthe timewenttoaparty.HernamewasLaurel.Shewasthe prettiestgirlIhadevermet.Wehadgonetoafriend’s partyandthatwasthefirstnightIfeltfree.Laurel mademefeelfree.SofreeIcouldbemyrealself aroundher.SoIwashappy.Iknow,it’scrazy,Iusedto behappy.RememberhowIsaidmylifewasasad movie?ThatwasafterLaurel,wellaftershe,aftershe passedaway.Iwasdevastated.Icriedmyselftosleep everynightbecausethegirlIloved,thegirlwhomade mefeelfree,wasgone.Thatwashardtoaccept. Anyways,let'sgetbackontopic,andstayinthepresent. Igetupandwalkinside.CREAKKKK.Thosedang floorboardsarecreakingeverystepItake.Iwalk upstairsandsitdownonmybed.Mywearybodylets outalongsigh.Icheckmywatch.7:00am.The receptionwasat12:00.Ibettergetready.Thecloset doorcreaksopenandIwalkinside.Ihavekeptthis dresssince1999.Vintage.Islideitonmybodyandpair itwithanicepairofshoes.Igotothevanityandslide thetubeoflipstickacrossmychappedlips.ThenIput onsubtleeyeshadowandwalkbackdownthecreaky stairs.Ipushopentherippedscreendoor.“Momma! Comeplayhideandseekwithus!”Mydaughter, Andrea,yells.“Idon’tknowsweetheart.Ain’tItoobig toplay?”Isayplayfully.“Noyouarenot!Pleaseeee playyyy.”Myotherdaughter,Trish,begs.“Fine,”I say,“butIhavetoseekfirst!”Isay,closingmyeyes.I startcounting.1,2,3,4,5.Idon’tthinkI'veeverfocused onmybreathingsomuch.
In,andout.In,andout.“Readyornot,hereIcome!”I yellacrossthebackyard.Ihearrustlinginthebushes.I betit’sAndrea,it’shergotospot.Ichoosetoignoreit. Iwalktotheplayhouse.Icheckover,under,and aroundit,butnoonesthere.Therestoftheyardisa blankcanvas.Thereisnothingelseinit.Istartto worry.“Girls!Youwin!Isurrender!”Iyell.No response.Usuallythatgetsthemoutofhiding.Where elsecouldtheybe?Theyardisspinning.Iletmykids runaway.ThenIrememberthebushes.Ofcourse. Theyareinthebushes.Mybrainmust’veforgotthatI sawtherustling.Iwalkover.“BOO!”Mydaughters jumpedupfrombehindthebushes.“AAAH!You scaredme!”Ipretend.“Let’sgogety'allreadytobe flowergirls,”Sandysaysstandinginthedoorway,arag hangingoverhershoulder,“Theny’allcancomeeat breakfast.”Thegirlsruninside.Iwalktothedoor,give Sandyakissonthecheek,andfollowthegirlsupto theirroomstohelpthemgetready.
Wegotthemmatchingwhiteandpinkflowergirl dresses.Theyhavebeensoexcited.Iputthedresson them,zipuptheback,andsittheminfrontofthe vanity.“Holdstill.”Isay.Igetasmallbitofeyeshadow onmyfingerandbrushitontotheirsoft,tender eyelids.Myeyestearup.ThinkingaboutLanagetting marriedalwaysdoes.“Girls,godowntogetsome breakfast.”Isniffle.Andreawrapsherarmsaroundmy neckandkissesmycheek.“Iloveyoumomma.”She says.“Iloveyoutoodarling.Nowgoondown.”
Isay,stillcrying.Sheunwrapsherarmsandrunsdown thestairs.Iwipemyeyesandheaddowntoo.WhenI getdown,thegirlsarealreadysittingdowneating,and Sandyiswearingthisgorgeousdress.Ilookattheclock ontheoven.11:30.WelltimetogoseeLanaget married.
StellaWilliams
MYLUXURIOUSSTUDYINGPLACE Myluxuriousstudyingplacewouldbearoomthatis gigantic.Thewallswouldbeanicelightgreywithan accentwall.Theaccentwallwouldbeadarkgreenwith ahintoftealblue.IwouldhaveLEDlightstripsall aroundthewallsaswell.Iwouldhaveafridgethat wouldhaveanendlesssupplyofsoda,water,coffee,and tea.Theroomwouldhaveacomfychair/couchthathas speakersbuiltintoitsoIcanlistentoChristianrap, metal,country,andlo-fihip-hop.Onthefarthestwall acrossthecouch,Iwouldhaveasink,oven,anda microwavetomakefood.Theroomwouldsmelllike mymom ’sfreshlybakedhomemadecookies.The windowswouldbemassivesoIcouldseeoutsideandsee thenaturethatGodcreated.Outsideonabalcony,I wouldhaveagrillandasmokertocooksteaksformy familyoutinthefantasticcrispwintercoldweather.I wouldhaveafive-foottallrobotmadetocookmysteak toaperfectmedium-rareandsmokemychickenwings towheretheywouldbelikemydad’schickenwings. Thatwouldbemyluxuriousstudyingplace.
LandonHolecheck HilgerHigherLearning 6thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
MYFAIRYTALE Iwasattailgate,dingding!Myphonewentoff.I lookeddownatmyphone,expectingtoseeoneofmy friendstextthattheywerethere.Instead,itwas“her,” theogre,asIlikedtosay.Tobehonest,that’swhatshe is.Iwasn’ttheonlyvictimhere.Sheattackedmultiple villagers.Insteadofclubsandspears,sheusedher words.Sincethefirstdayofschool,ithasbeenher personalmissiontoexcludeandostracizeme.Likethe trollunderthebridge,shewouldneverletmecross.In thiscase,itwasn’tabridge.Itwastheseatinhistory.
Onceuponatime,inaprestigiousprivateschoolin afar-offkingdom,agirlnamedStellastrolledinto class.Stellawasnotonlybeautifulontheoutside,but kindandgeneroustoall.Shewasinaparticularly cheerfulmoodthatday,excitedforthefootballgame andreadyfortheweekend.Shesatdownatherseatbut knewthatitwascoming.Theogrestompedinand threwitsbooksonthetable.Sheslammedherfist down,andtheroomshook.Theothervillagerswho werechattinghappilyaboutthecomingweekend hushed.Theytrembledwithfear.
“Move,”theogredemanded.
“It’smyseat!Youcan’tsithere!”Stellawhispered, “Yes,Ican.”
“Whatdidyousay?”TheogreaskedStella.
“Icansithere,”Stellasaid,louderthistime.The ogrehuffedandpuffed.Aloudnoiseeruptedfromits mouth.
“I’msittinghereanyway.NowMOOOOOOVE!” Stellaremainedinherseat.
Shelookedupattheogreandwatchedtheogre’sface turnredderandredderandevenredder.Shesworeshe sawsteamcomeoutofitsears.Theroomwassilent. Thevillagersranandhid.Theogrerefusedtomove andstoodatthetabletryingtoscareStellaintogiving theogreherseat.Stellaignoredthebeast.Soon,she wouldbeatthefootballgame,freefromtheogre.
Stellaarrivedattailgate.Whenshewenttothefield, shesearchedforherfriends,butitseemedlikenobody wasthere.Shetextedherfriends,Anyonehereyet? Stellafoundsomeofherclassmatesandwashappily chattingwiththemwhen,ding!Herphonewentoff. Sheglancedatthescreen,expectingtoseesomebody textingthattheywerethere.Instead,shesawtheogre’s nameacrossthescreen.YOUSHOULDN’THAVE DONETHATINCLASS.Theogretexted.Stella couldheartheangerinitsvoice.Idon’tknowwhat you ’retalkingabout,Stellareplied.YOUMADEME ANGRYINHISTORY.Idon’tknowwhatyou mean.YOUKNOWWHATIMEAN.
YOUMADEMADEMEREALLYMAD.
Stellawasnotgoingtogiveintotheogreandbecome itsvictim.Shecouldn’tbejustanotherhelplessdamsel indistress.Thebridgetrollhadneverlethercrossits bridge,butthenStellarealizedthatitwasherchoiceif shewantedtocrossitsbridge.Itwasnottheogre’s choice,itwasStella’s.Shecouldstayontheotherside, livinginfearofthescaryogre,orcrosstotheother side,knowingthatshewasgoingtohavetofaceitand havethecouragetodoso.
Suddenly,Stellarealizedwhatshehadtodo.Her bridgetrolldayswereover.Enoughisenough,Stella thought.Shetappedthetopofthescreenandblocked theogre.Aweightwasliftedoffhershoulders.That day,Ilearnedthatsomepeopleinlifewillbeogres, somewillbefearfulvillagers,andsomewillbedamsels indistress,butIdon’twanttobeanyofthose.Iwantto makemyownstory,whereI’mtheonestandingupto theogres.Ilivedhappilyeverafter.THEEND.
StellaReyes TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,ReganFazio
SIXTHGRADE POETRY NOTHINGLASTSFOREVER Icouldn’twishforanythingbetterthanyou.Spending ourFridaynightssittingonthegrass,glaringatthe stars.Runningmyfingersthroughyoursilky,softhair, planningourfuturetogether,makingthosepromises wewouldneverbreak.
ThatnightIgotthecall,thecallthatyouweredead, realitydidn’texisttome,itneverwouldanymore,not withoutyou.
Iwishedyouwerealive,IwishedIcouldhandyour hands,knowingyouwerereal,Iwishedyoucouldbe rightnexttome,havingourhour-longconversations likeweusedto.
MaybeIjusthavetoforget,likenoneofthisever happened.Pretendinglifeislikeabook,havingtoturn thepagestothenextchapter,knowingmyfavorite characterwon’tbeinit.
Iwishedgoodbyesdidn’tmeanforever,butsometimes theydo.Nothingcanbringyouback,butIpromiseI willneverforgetyou.
JennaChen ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 6thGrade,MaryLeDoux
MYFORCEFULBIGCHOP! Inthehushofmidnight’sgentleembrace, Iwasbuteight,lostindream’ssoftgrace.
Attwelveohthree,ashadowcreptnear, mydearlittlesister,withscissorshelddear.
Tiptoeswhisperedoncreakingwoodfloors, sheventuredsoclose throughthenight’ssilentdoors. Inhertinyhands,gleamedthebigshears, Theveryones,itseemed,weweretoldtofear.
Wrappedinmyblanket,withmybear, Mr.Cuddlesworth,heldtight, Isleptunawareofthecomingfright. SNAP!(soclosetomyear).
JOLT!(heartracingwithfear).
Paleasaghost,shestoodinthegloom, withwild,untamedhair,sealingmydoom.
Myeyesdarted‘round,tothehaironmybed, along,flowinglength,nolongeronmyhead.
Tearsfilledmyeyes,mymouthopenedwide, asIletoutascream,asoundIcan'thide.
Mymotherrushedin,herheartfilledwithdread, tofindhertwodaughters,onepairofscissors,onebed.
Aglareshotatmysister,whodroppedthesharptool, thenvanishedtoherroomlikeamischievousfool.
Mom’ssmilewasfleeting,asshehurriedaway, whileIglancedattheclock.
FormonthsIwouldcry,myprideindismay, asmyhairgrewbackslowly,atangledballet.
Picturedaycame,inadressbrightandpink, yetthesmileIworewasathin,fragileblink.
WhenIbroughtitup,mysisterclaimednottorecall, thenightofthesnipping,thefearthatstruckall.
ThoughIlingeredaroundmysisters,insilenceI stayed,
Thislessonontrust,apricedearlypaid.
Soheedthistaleofachildwithadream, withscissorsinhand,it’snotwhatitseems.
Forwilddreamscanleadtoahaircutgonewrong, andtheechoesofmidnightcanlingertoolong.
OliviaWebb
ChattanoogaCharterSchoolofExcellenceMiddle 6thGrade,SarahMcCune
WATER
Water
Watergoeswhoosh
Anddrip
Sometimesittips
Waterrushesandcrashes
Rightintomyuncle’sbushes
Waterdrizzles
Andspills
RightintoDanny’sfield
Watercanzoomfast
Andzoomslow
Watercango
Whereveritwantstoflow
CoraConnell SilverdaleBaptistAcademy
DRAGON
AsIwalkthroughthepath Iheardasuddendash! ILookedaroundIsawaflash, Thenaloudcrash! ICouldn'tseeathing, Ilookedup,mykneestrembling. Itwasacreaturewithawing. Itwashuge. Itwasadragon Isawakidnexttoawagon. Irealizedhewaspullingakitedragon
JakeSeymour SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 6thGrade,LoriCole
LIFE
Lifeisinteresting Sometimeshappy
Sometimessad
Somakethemostofyourtimethatyourhappy
Youmusttrytowin
Eveninalosingbattle
Youcan’tgiveup
Youmustmountyoursaddle
Youmustfight
Evenwhenit’sover
Youmustalwaystry Donotfallover
Youmustbekind Tothosearoundyou
Evenwhenyouthink
Youdon’thavemoretodo
Hereissomeadvice
Trytowin
Iknowit’shard
Butdon’tgivein
AnthonyColeman
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 6thGrade,LoriCole
WINTER Coldassnowsometimesyoucanletgo IwishIcouldleteveryoneknow Thatyoucheertoplayinthesnow Whenyouplayinthecoldyoucanbeasboldasyouwant Youplayinthesnowandfeeltheverycoldgentlebreeze
Yourfrostcreepskin
Allyouknowisthetruth Whenyousitinthatbooth.
BUBBLES Bubbles Poppop
Thedreamybubbles
Theyareblownaroundinthewind
Jubilantchildrensquealandplay Poppop
Thebubblesfloatgracefully Gleamingastheyhitthesunlight
Thecolorsvibrantandiridescent Poppop Theyburst
RebeccaDahl SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 6thGrade,LoriCole
ANAUTHOR FIRE Asthewoodbegantocrack, Thewindstartedblowing. Thefirewasflowing. Thentheheatfloodedthecabin, Thewallsglaredwithorangelight. Assmokerosefromthechimney Mybreathwasnolongervisible. finallyIcouldrestinpeace, Withthesoundofthecrackofthewood Iamwarm.
LukeWhittle SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 6thGrade,LoriCole
MYBESTCOLORS Makemeoutofbrownhairandbrowneyes; Addwatertoyourbrush. Dipyourbrush, Andswirlitonthepaperwithstyle. Creatingeverylittlestrandof Hairandfacialfeature, Withasmileonyourface. “Makesureyoupaintme usingmybestcolors.”
MarshallMaeHennessy
TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,ReganFazio
FREEDOMINDIFFERENTFACES Freedom,
Thepulseofmusicdrummingtheair
Theflowersgrowinginthecracksofthecrust Freedom,
Theweightlossofnohomework
Thethrillofthelastschoolbell Freedom,
Thefireintheelegantdance
Thelaughterthatfillstheairsweetly Freedom,
Thecapabilitytoshowyourthoughtstotheworld
Thecouragetobehonestwiththesewords Freedom,
Thethingsthatmakeyoulookformore
Theheartoftrying failingandgettingupagain
SonoraKerns
TheBaylorSchool
6thGrade,ReganFazio
THEFOURSEASONS THECHANGINGYEAR TURQUOISETIDES Iseetheglistening,brightturquoisewaves lappingagainstthesandyshore. Vividgreen,colossalpalmtrees towerabovemelikeskyscrapers. Theskyabovemeisadazzlingblue, withoutacloudinsight.
Ifeelthesoftsandundermyfeet andtheblazingsunagainstmyskin. Thefainttasteofsaltfromtheocean lingersonmytongue. Ihearthegentlewaves andthedistantsquawkofseagulls.
Ibreatheinthefresh,crispoceanair.
AUTUMNAIR Iseethetrees’foliage ofscarlet,orange,andgold. Thebranchesdanceinthebreeze. Brownleavescovertheground. Acornsrest ontheforestfloor.
Ifeelthegentleautumnbreeze againstmyface. Itastethewarmapplecider. Icanhear thecrunchofleavesundermyfeet andthebirdschirping.
Iinhaletherichscentofthedampearth. BLANKETOFSNOW
Athickblanketofsoft,whitesnow liesontheground.
Delicateicicleshang fromthebranches ofbaretrees.
Thepondisfrozen, itsiceassmoothasglass. Thesnowflakestwirlanddance inthewind.
Iseemybreath
formingasmallcloudinfrontofme. Thefrigidairsurroundsme, sendinggoosebumpsdownmyarms.
Itastethetinysnowflakesonmytongue. Thesoundofthewinterwind andthecrunchofsnowundermyboots fillsmyears.
Ismellthecrisppine andfreshsnow.
SPRINGINBLOOM Vibrant,bloomingflowers danceinthewind.
Iseethemassivecherryblossomtree, itsflowers abeautifulpalepink. Thegrass, abrilliantgreen, bowsdowninthegentlebreeze.
Ifeelthesunshine warmmyface. Itastethecool,refreshinglemonade. Ilisten tothebirdssingingandchirping. Ismellthefreshflowers.
StellaReyes
TheBaylorSchool
6thGrade,ReganFazio
SEASONS Seasons changing
Theskyasblueasoceans
thesunstingingthetipsofmyshoulders
Ibreathinallofmyproblemstoletthemgo
Thelaughteroflittlechildrenfillstheair
Itfinallyhitme
joyshoweredoverme
asIwasn’tthinkingaboutanythingelse
Thegrass,asgreenasglossyemeraldpaint
Smoothbutalsocrunchy
Thebreezeblewaroundme
likeasmall,gentle,friendlytornado
Butthistornadoseemedtobedifferent
Itseemedtobringmethings alotofpeopleforget
Fortheyaretoobusy, Exultance.
Thecoldairentersmythroat
asifIwasdrinkingicecoldwater
Azapofjoy shiveredupmyspine
Mybreathebecamevisible
Thefield
Quiet
Theearthwasfilled withsilence
Orsoitseemed
Goosebumpsappear
onmyarms
asthecoldbreezesummedthem
Thetreesslowlyswayed backandforth
Icouldfeelmypufferjacket rubagainstmyarmsbringingmewarmth EventhoughIwasn’tpayingattention tothecoldasmuchanymore Itwasstillthere andIstillenjoyedit. Takeadeepbreath Smellthegrass
Feelthedirtundermyfeet smushasifIwassteppingon themoistsandatthebeach.
Theflowersblooming theycomealiverightin-frontofmyveryeyes
Thesky,sobrightitblindsme ItfeelsasifIwascomingalive, Ihadn’tfeltthewarmthforsolong Ihadmadeitthroughthefall andthewinter
Ihavemadeitback andI’mgladIhave
Thegrassstillhastheleft-overcrunchiness fromthechillyseasons
Theslightestbitofcrunch stillundermyshoesasIrun throughthefield withhappinessinmysoul. Saygoodbyetothecolorful brightflowers
Thenectaroftheflower thatthebeeslongedtohave arenowgone
Itislikethelifeoftheflowersevaporatedintothinair Iwalkthroughthebland anddarksidewalk
Itisquitebut peoplearestillhere
IenjoywatchingthechildrenSwinghigh upontheswings
Asmilebloomsontheirfaceeverytimetheyswing upward
Itgivesmeahintofhappiness asifIwasonthatswing
Ilookthroughthequitefield andontheothersideIsquint totrytoseethroughthethickfog
Ibreatheinthefog thesmellofmoisty airentersmylungs thefogmakesmecooloff thefeelingofcalmnessblowsoverme likewind.
WynneMiller
TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,ReganFazio
WORDS Mywordsaremean, Iwanttobenice
Buteverytime
Isaysomething it’snotnice
Ineedtostop
Butit’shard.
Whenmyparentsaremeantoeachother it’sliketheydon’tcare, thatlamthere theyargueandargue eventhough theyknowlamthere
Ialwayssay “Stopplease”
Buttheysay “okay”
Eventhough it’snotokay.
JaydenCox
TheBaylorSchool
6thGrade,ReganFazio
Moonlightsparklesthroughthetrees Castingghostlybeamsofsilver ontheforestfloor. Itseemssilent butaforestisnevertrulyquiet. Cricketschirpwhatseemstobe asweetmelody. Highaboveeverything inadelicatewillowtree asquirrelrustlesthesmallleaves. Somewhereinthedistance alonewolfhowls. It’samelancholysong begginganyonewho’slistening forcomfort.
Asmallbirdwhistlesintothedarkness butaresponsetoitspleanevercomes. Howisit thatalthoughsilenceneverisfull thelonelinessinthewoods isquieterthananythingelse?
RebeccaDavis TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,ReganFazio
TOGETTHEIRVOTE Togettheirvote
Womenstoodoutside
Inthebittercold
Togettheirvote
Womenmarchedon
Inwhatseemedlike
Anever-endingrace
Atthefinishline
Stoodtheirrights
Togettheirvote
Womenwentonhungerstrikes
Fortheywerenothungryforfood
Theycravedjustice
Togettheirvote
Womenendured
Achallenging
Uphillbattle
CallistaLund
TheBaylorSchool
6thGrade,ReganFazio
WINDINTHEPIECES Noticehowthepinetreeswaysyetitneverblowsaway. Itsrootsrundeepintothegroundhelpingitstay. Thetreeisstrong,notevenapinedriftsaway. Noticethestrengthofthetree.Hearthewindhowl,yetthe Treesimplysways. Noticethewindblowingstronger,tryingitsbesttomake thetreefall,butnotevenabranchblowsaway.
Watchastheanimalsfleetothecanopy,thewindmuch toopowerfulforthem,yetthetreesimplysways. Watchasthewindstartstodiedown.
Noticethepinesremainunfazed. Watchastheanimalscomeoutofthecanopy. Hearthebirdssinging,watchthesquirrelsplay,notice thesuncomingout.Feeltheheatonyourface,nowalliswell. Andthetreestillremains. LucyJager
THETREEOFTHESEASONS Itwaswinter.Thetreewasadark,dry,duskyshade. Alllifewaslost.
Thecoldbitingwindswayedtheloosebranches. Thetreewasbare, strippedofitsleaves.
Windmadeaswiftswooshingsound, ThekindIwouldheargoingdownarollercoaster. Theairsmeltlikeicemeltingslowlyonmynose. Theairtastedlikecoldicedbottledwater.
IcouldfeelacoolingsensationthroughoutmybodywhenIbreathin. Itouchedtheair.
ItwassocolditwaslikeifIleftmyhandsouttoolong, theywouldturntodust
Thenitwasspring.
Thetreewasfullofdarkgreenvegetation.
Birdsofallbrightcolorsmadenestoftwigsandleavesas squirrelschasedeachotheruptothetopofthetree.
Birdsweretweetingandchirpedloudastheyzoomfromtreetotree. Itwaslikewatchinganoutdoorcityofanimals. Abombofpollenhaddroppedoutside. Ormaybethat’sjusthowitfelt. Isneezedsomuch, Icould’veflownawaywiththebirds. Thepollentasted likeabitter-sweetalmondfallinggentlyonmytongue. Theairwaswarm.
Itwaslikeaninvisiblethickblankethadbeendrapedoverme becauseitwassohumid.
ThenitwasSummer.
Theleaveswereslightlylightershade. Somewerebrownandhadfallenoffduetotheheat.
Thetreelookedlonely, yethappy
Birdschirpedtoeachother butonlyonceinawhile. Itwaslikespringmadethemtiredwithallthemoving. Theairsmeltclearlikewater.
Thepollenhaddiminishedintothinair Icouldbreathintheairagain.
Thesunsmiledatme, bakingmybodyinanaturaloven.
ThenitwasAutumn.
Someleaveshadfoundtheirwayoutofthetree. Theyweretwirlinganddancingwiththewind likeminiatureballetdancers movingthroughthegreycloudysky. Otherleaveslookedlikebrownbatsgluedtothetree waitingtofly.
Winddancedwithtwigsandleavesmadeaswishingsound almostlikethe2weresinging.
Theairsmeltburnt,dryandcrisp, likeatinycampfirewasstarting withapepofcinnamon.
Theairtastedlikeaburntbitterchip soItriedtokeepmymouthshut. Ifeltleavesfallingonme
Frantically asiftheywerewarningmethatwinterwascoming.
Alltheseseasonscombinedcreateavisionofthetreeinmybackyard. Everyseasonisdifferent. Icouldwatchthetreefrommybalconyalldaylong.
AdaoraOkafor TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,SuzanneCollin
ASTHELAKECHANGES Asthelakechanges,thegoldensummersunburnsdown ontothecrystal-clearwaterofthelake creatingbeautifulrainbowsandhighlights onthewater. Sweattricklesdownmyface asIdipmyhandin. Thelakewateriscoolandrefreshing. Ismellthegrassandhear hiker’sfootstepsastheyrundown theseeminglyendlesstrails. Thewaterisinviting. Iseeminnowsandsmallcritters jumpupanddown inandoutofthecoolwater.
Asthelakechanges,orange,red,andgoldenautumnleavesfall fromthesurroundingmapletrees creatingabeautifulscene. Iwonderwhatit’sliketobealeaf, toflyfreeinthechilloftheevenings. Iheartheleavescrunchingundermyfeet. Theweatheriscoolernow,asisthewater. Ismellsmokefrombonfiresinthedistance asIsiponmywarmapplecider. Itisabitdarkernow, thesunsetslightlylesspigmentedasinthesummermonths.
asthelakechanges,asoftblanketofwintersnowcoverstheground, assmallflurriesofsnowfallfromthesky. ThisisthefirstwhiteChristmasinyears. Ireluctantlydipmyhandinthewater.
Theicinessshocksme. Therearenohikersherenow.
Ifeelthebitter,icywindsbitingagainstmycheeks andmynose.
Starsdotthegorgeoustwilightofthenight.
Asthelakechanges,Iseefreshspringtulipsbloomingeverywhere, theirscentscarriedonaswiftbreeze.
HoneybeesbuzzandBluejayschirp inabeautifullyrhythmicmelody. Thefreshgrasspricksmyankles. Thewaterisbearablenow, stillchilledbutnowfreshandseeminglywelcoming. Thehikersswarmthetrails, sometimesstoppingtoexplore thebeautifulgiftsnaturehasgivenus. Thepassageoftimeisshownwiththechangingbeautyofnature. Tome, thelakeisbeautifulnomattertheseason.
LibbyBrown TheBaylorSchool 6thGrade,SuzanneCollin
ROCK Theairhasgottenwarmer.
Abreezeflowsthroughtheairlikeafalconinthesky. Goldfinchesandsparrowschirpandwarble astheyflutterthroughthetrees.
Asquirrelboundsthroughthebrushwithhaste asIlayonthebigrockgazingatthesky. Iletthoughtsrunthroughmyheadlikesteampoweredtrains. Theaftertasteofpeanutbutterandjellyis stillonmytongue.
Windgushesthroughthebranchesoftheoaktree. AsIsit,Iwatchleavesglidedownwitheachswayofmotion untiltheyhitthegroundsoftly.
Occasionallyaflockofgreygeese fly,honkingaway.Brightleavesfullofcolor, oncegreen,spoutfromthespindlycherrytree, Eachwithitsownredoryellowflare.
Theskyturnsagloomygrey.
Thescentofpinefillsmycoldnose.Mydogs’collarsjingle andthesnowygroundcruncheswitheverystep astheytrotawaytofindavoleorsquirrel. Theicyroughnessoftherockcoolsmyhand. Iwillonlybethereforafewminutes, thentheicycoldwilldisturbmeenoughtorunbackinside.
Itisfinallyspring.
Alongfrostywinterisover, andthecomfortingbreezeisback. Brighthoneysuckleanddandelionsbloombright. Isitonmyrock,andstareintothetwiggybrush.
Thetasteofsourlemonade isstillinmymouth.Brightgreengrass isdottedwithfreshcrystal-likedew.Thewarmairisnice asInowlay,lookingatthesky. Icanhearthebirdsagain.
Ilayonmysandstonebed, ThisrockwhereIgotoforgetandremember,Absorbtheland aroundme,andtowatchthewindtouchthetallgrasses ThisplaceiswhereIdreamandfear. Thelinebetweennatureandmindisblurred.
BobbyScott
TheBaylorSchool
6thGrade,SuzanneCollin
SEVENTH GRADEPROSE GRECO-ROMANCOSMOLOGY Greco-Romanmythologyisverycomplicatedanda partofthatentirestoryisthestoryofArachne.In Ovid’s,TheMetamorphosis,thestoryofArachne helpsshowGreco-Romancosmologybecauseitreveals theimportanceofobeyingthegods,howthegodsare themostpowerfulbeings,andhowthegodsdictateall aspectsoflife.InthisstoryArachneisamasterweaver butshedoesn’tgivecredittothegoddessAthenafor herskills.Shethendoubleddownonherstatementand endedupchallengingthegoddesstoaweavingcontest. Athenamadeacloththatdepictedtheruleofthegods butArachnemadeherstheflawsofthegodsandwhen theyhadmessedup.Athenathenbecomesveryangry andhersArachne’swork.Arachneisthenturnedintoa spiderforlosingthecontestandoffendingthegods. Firstofall,obeyingthegodsisveryimportant. Afterthecontest,whichAthenawon,Arachnewas punished.Herbodybegantochangeandwherethe bodyofthemaidenusedtostand,therewasonlyasmall brownspider(Ovid51).Thishelpstosupportmyclaim becauseArachnechallengedthegoddesstoacontest, thereforeopposingthegods.Thisshowsher disobediencebecauseshethoughtthatshewasbetter thanthegoddessherself.Sinceshedidn’tgiveher creditforherskills,andthenshedoubleddownonit, shewaspunished.ThisisakeypartoftheGrecoRomancosmologybecauseitmakesitclearthatthey believedthatwhenthegodswereobeyed,goodthings wouldhappen.Ontheotherhand,ifyoudisobeythem, yourlifewilltakeaturnfortheworseandyouwouldbe punished.
Secondly,theyalsobelievedthatthegodswerethe mostpowerfulbeings.Thisisshowninthisstorywhen AthenaisworkingfasterthanArachne.“...andsawthe goddessworkingswiftly,calmly,andalwaysalittle fasterthanherself”(Ovid51).Thishelpsrevealtheir cosmologybecausetheybelievedthatifyouhadthe godsonyourside,youwerestronger,butiftheywere againstyou,youstoodnochance.Thepeopleinthese mythsthattrytodefyandfightthegodsalwaysendup losing.Inthisculturetheybelievedthatwithoutthe godsyouhadnopower,andifyouwereinpossessionof powerorskills,itwasbecauseofthegods.Sincethey believedthatthegodsgaveyoupower,thepeople normallygavecredittothegodsinancientculture. Theybelievedthatiftheydidn’tgivethegodscredit, theirpowerorskillcouldbetakenawayfromthem.
Finally,theybelievedthatthegodsdictateall aspectsoflife.Theybelievedthatthegodswerenotin controlofjustonething,theywereinchargeofall aspectsoflife.Athena’sclothdepictedAthenaand PoseidoncompetingtobecomethepatronofAthens, butitalsoshowedtheterriblefatesofthehumanswho triedtostrivewiththem(Ovid51).Thisshowstheir cosmologybecauseitprovedthattheythoughtthatthe godsruledovereverything.Intheirculture,itwas acceptedthatthegodsweretheonesmakingchangesin theworld,notthehumansontheearth.Theyalso believethatthegodswereveryoffendedwhenpeople triedtothreatentheirpowerandthisiswhatArachne didinthisstory.
Aranchesaidthatshewasbetterthanthegoddess AthenaherselfandthenshewaspunishedbyAthena forlosingintheweavingcontestthatfollowed.This alsoshowsthatthegodshavehuman-like characteristicsinGreco-Romanmythology.This makesitmoreclearthatthegodsarenotmoral exemplars,theheroesinGreekmythsare.Sincethe heroesaretheexemplars,thismeansthattheydidn’t alwaysdowhatthegodswanted,forthegodsarenot settinganexample.
In,TheMetamorphosis,byOvid,thestoryof ArachnehelpsrevealtheGreco-Romancosmology becauseitshowstheimportanceofobeyingthegods, howthegodsarethemostpowerfulthings,andhowthe godsareinchargeofeverything.Asimilaritybetween thecosmologiesisthattheybelievedthattheirgodsare allpowerfulandtheLordisallpowerful.Averymajor differenceisthattheirgodsarenotexamplesandthey forcepunishmentsuponpeoplewhiletheLordhas mercyandisanexampleforallofhumanitytotryand liveupto.Eventhoughtherearesomesimilarities,our cosmologyandtheancientGreco-Romansarevery differentfromeachother.
EvanKelly ChattanoogaChristianSchool 7thGrade,KarenMonahan
“DOESITREALLYFITME?” Myname?Idon’tlikemyname;mynameisReid. It’slikemyparentsdidn’tknowhowtospelltheword. Peoplesaymynameisperfectandfitsme,butIthink it’slikeatoosmallshoetightanduncomfortable.My namemeansred.Witchhasalotofnegative connotationssuchashate,violence,rageandwarfare. Somepositivethingsareassociatedwithredaswellfor examplepassion,power,loveandconfidence.Some timesIthinkwhatifIhadadifferentnameI’mnot surewhatIwouldpick,butI’mcertainitwouldfitme muchbetter.
TheChineseNewYearthinksI’marabbit;quiet, kindandrestrained.AndfornowI’monlyoneofthose things.Thatiskind,Ican’tthinkofoneinstancewhen I’mwithpeopleandhaven’tsaidanything,andifIhave Iamallmostneverrestrained.Allthesethingsthatare puttomejustbecauseofoneyear,andmostofthose thingsaren’teventrue.Thatcalendarmightbealittle outdatedbutI’mnotsure.ForImightfilltheseshoes someday.Andthatdaymightnotcomebutfornow ReidismynameevenifIdon’tlikeit.
MynameReidmeansred,andredsymbolizeswarm flamesthatlighttheroom.whichareshowingmy feelingsandwishestolighteverybooktoflames.Reid tasteslikeapieceofruffbiterandblandsandpaper, andReidsmellslikeanewfreshlyopenedbook.The onlythingthatreallyisrightaboutmeismybirth stoneopal.Opalisasymbolofcreativity,confidence andtruth...
Andforonesallofthesethingsfitme,forIam creative,confidentandtruthful.IfIcouldchangemy name,I’mnotsurewhatIwouldchangeitto.I’ve neverbeengoodwithdecisionslikethis.Imaynotlike mynamenow,butmynamemighteventuallyget eventuallygetafewmorethingsright.
Thewaymynamewaspickedwasquiteunusual. Myfatherwasreadingabook.“Thebiographyof TheodoreRoosevelt.”Andinthisbook,hesaidthat oneofhisbiggestinfluenceswasanauthorwhohad sparkedhisinterestinexploration.Hisnamewas ThomasMainReid.MyfatherthoughtthatReidwasa greatnameandmymotheragreed.Theydebatedon thenameandafewothersforquiteabitlonger,but theyhadtomakeachoiceandintheendtheychose Reid.
ReidNelligan TheBaylorSchool 7thGrade,HenryBlue
ALLME Ifyoulookmynameupyouwon’tgetmuch.That’s becausemynamedoesn’tmeananything.Mynameisa Frenchlastname,butthat’snotwhereitcomesfrom. MynameisBelou,justlikeaforeignjungle.Myis different,unique,lotsofpeoplecallitspecial.You mightbeexpectingadeepmeaning,oraoldfamily namelikealotofpeoplewhoaskme.But,mynameis quitetheoppositeandveryshallowinfact.
Mynamecomesfromapopularshowinthenineties calledRoadRules.BeloufromRoadRulesiswild, crazy,andconfident.I’mnotgoingtolie,wedohave twothingsincommon.First,justlikeBeloufromRoad RulesIamverygrumpyinthemorning.Infact,sheis mostknownfortryingtofightAntoine,aboyonthe showwithabutterknife.Whathappenedwas, accordingtoBelouAntoinedisrespectedherandshe wasgrumpybecauseitwasthemorning.Also,Belou wasnotjustgonnaletAntoinelaughandmakefunof her,shewasgonnadosomething.Now,Iwouldn’ttry andfightanyonebut,Iwouldnotletsomeoneberude tomeormyfriends.Belouwasspecialanddifferent, sheknewexactlywhoshewasandwasnotgoingto changeforanyoneelse.
So,nowhowdidmynamegetfrommymomwhen shewas13tomynamein2012?Well,justlikeallofthe tweensandteenagersin1997mymomwaswatching theshowRoadRules.Now,likeherfriendsshelooked uptoBelouandthoughtthatshewasverycool....
So,mymomsaidyouknowwhatIlovethenameBelou, she’scool,andIlookuptoher.So,Iamgoingtoname myfuturekidBelou.Fifteenyearslatermymomfound outshewashavingagirlandthenameBeloucouldjust notgetoutofherhead.So,shenamedmeBelou.
So,attheendofthedaymynamedoesnothavea meaning.Googledoesnotknowso,Igettochoose. KnowthatIhavethepowerofchoosingwhatmyname meanstome.Ichoosethemeaningtochangeeveryday. Mynameistheweather,somedaysstayingthesame, butalsochangingfrequently.Sometimesifeelbrave andstrong.SomedaysIfeelsadandmad.SomedaysI amhelpfulandkind,othertimesIcanseemrudeor distant.Mynamecan’tjustbefloweryandmeanall goodthings,becauseI’mhuman.Humansaren’t perfect,wemessup.Soit’sonlyfairifmynamecan meanallofmytraits,goodandbad.Mynamedoesn’t meananythingtogoogleorotherpeople.But,that doesn’tmattertomemynameisdifferent,butIloveit. MynameisallmeandIdon’tshareitwithanybodyI know.So,yesmynameisnotusual,peoplemessup pronouncingitamilliontimesaday,andsometimesI getcalledmylastname.Butitshowsthehumannature, andIloveit.
BelouAnderson TheBaylorSchool 7thGrade,HenryBlue
THEANGRYVEGETARIANS Thestoryofseniorcitizenswhohappentobe (notreally)Vegetarians
Ihadaknackforgettingintotrouble.Ialsohadatrick forgettingoutofit.Itallcamedowntocreatinga diversion.IpointedintheoppositedirectionofwhereI neededtogoandyelled,“freetacos!”Itworkedlikea charm.
Alleighty-foureldersraninthedirectionIhad pointed.Oops.Let’sstartover!Itallstarted4hours ago.Iwasvisitingmygrandpaintheretirementhome, andhewasgettinghungry,soheaskedmetogogeta sandwichfromthekitchen.WhatIdidn'tknowisthat everysingleoneofthepeoplewholivedinthe retirementhomewerevegetarian.Yousee,I'vealways beenabigmeatloverandIjustassumedhewastoo. That'swhereIwaswrong.Ididn'tknowthatthey wouldbeoffendedbycraftingthisexcessively enormousentree.Iusedover41varietiesofmeat includingham,salami,sausages,bacon,turkey,and chorizo.Apartfrommeatthesubalsohaslettuce, onions,olives,hotpeppers,andpickles.
WhatIdidn'tknowisIhadcommittedtheworld's greatestsinbydoingthat.alltheseoldpeopletheir wholelifehadtrainedandusedextensiveself-controlto bethemosthigh-rankingvegetariansontheplanetand Ididn'tknowthat,butsecretlytheworld'sbiggest meat-loverspossible.
Theyoncelivedonsuchanunhealthydietthatthey decidedtogiveituptolivelongerhealthierlives.Itwas amiracleIwasabletofindanymeatatallintheir pantry.Theyhaveabsolutelynoself-controlwhenit comestomeat.ButlikeIsaidIhadn'tknownthis. WhenIenteredmygrandfather'sroom,hesawthe sandwichandyelled,“Meat,thatismeatright!”Itwas thenIknewsomethingwasup.Ihandedhimthe sandwichandheatethewholethinginlessthan47 seconds.Heletoutanenormousburpthatranginthe hallwaysoftheretirementhome.Thiscausedallthe othermembersoftheretirementhometocomeoutof theirrooms.Oneofmygrandpa'sfriends,Margaret, walkedoutofherdorm,cameintomygrandpa'sroom, andaskedwhatwaswrong.mygrandparepliedbyusing oneword.“MEAT!!!!”Everysingleoneofthem turnedtolookatme.Ididn'tknowwhattodo.
Yousee,Ihadaknackforgettingintotrouble.Ialso hadatrickforgettingoutofit.itallcamedownto creatingadiversion.Ipointedintheoppositedirection ofwhereIneededtogoandyelled,“Freetacos!”It workedlikeacharm.
Iranoutthedooroftheretirementhome,asallthe seniorcitizensranaroundconfusedandhungry.Iran downthestreettomymom'scar,unlockedthedoor, slammedthedoor,andwithoutknowingwhatIwas doinghitthegasandpulledoutoftheretirement home.
Ispedoutoftheparkinglotanddownthestreet.Ionly got43tickets,knockedoverthreemailboxes,ran througheightflowergardens,injuredonlyoneperson, scaredhalfadozen,andgotintroublewithmymom… bigtrouble.butattheendoftheday,Iknowhowto makeanamazingsandwich!
TheEnd WilliamBaney HilgerHigherLearning 7thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
Pleasedon’tbewhatIthinkitis.Myfeetaremoving beforemybraincatchesupandsuddenlyI’mbythe window.LookingdownontothestreetsIbreatheouta gasp.IguessI’mnotreallythatsurprisedbutitstill leavesmebreathlessasthesheerhorrorofitisworse thanIimagined.Iturnaroundtofacehimwithmy mouthopen,eachtimetryingtoformanewwordand eachtimefailing.Hedoesn’ttrytocoaxmyopinionof thescenebecauseheknows.Healwaysknows. IthitsmethenandIstumblebackafewsteps.Ihavea sinkingsuspicionthatallofus,everyonehereknew whatwaslyingunderthesurfaceofthisfacadeofa perfectlife.ThisillusionthatIincludedneverwanted tobreak.It’sdisheartening,tosaytheleast,andmyeyes havetroubleconnectingwithmyrealemotionsand suddenlythey’refilledwithmoisture.Whenhenotices helooksmoreupsetthanever.Asthoughitphysically painshimtoseehisfriendinpain.Theoreachesoutto comfortmebutIspinonmyheelsonomoreofmy expressionisshown.
“I’msorry.”Itleaveshismouthinaquiet,breathy tonelikehe’stryingnottobreakopenbuthisvoice crackshalfwaythroughanyway.Hisarmscomearound mesuddenlybutIhavenoenergytopushhimoff.
“Forwhat?”It’scracklyanddryandsharpandit’s biting.Mysadnesshasturnedtoangerinasecondand itfloatsaroundmyheartandribs.
Mychestiscavinginwiththerealityofthis situationandtheashamednessofhowIusedtothink. Thenaivetythataccompaniedthedelusion.
Allowingmyselftobelievethattheworldwasperfect thoughIknewitwasn’t.Iknewit.IcouldfeelitandI chosetoignoreittolivealifealittlebithappierthough itwasfakeandnowithurtsandIhurt.Evencomfort hurtsnow.
HisarmstightenandIsobadlywanttopretendI’m okay.It’smorepainfultobelievethathe’stheonly thingkeepingmestanding.Itrytoshrughimoffbut hedoesn’tletme.It’smaddening.Mythoughtsare splinteringandfracturingandhe’sgrabbingthemwith hishandsandbringingthemtomyheart.Ithinkit’s simultaneouslypiecingmetogetherandmakingme loseanysenseofsafety.
Wesaynothingforawhile,Isimplystareoutthe windowandfeelsomuchitbeginstomeldinto nothing.
AthoughtsuddenlyspringsintomymindasI’m thinking.
“You’renotevenindanger.You’refine.”
“Yes…?”Hedragsitoutbutit’sstillimpossibly smooth.Nolingeringtracesofanykindofemotion.
“Sowhyareyouhere?”Imeantoaskitnicely,a simplequestionleavingmymouthbutincidentallyit comesoutharshandaccusatory,likehe’sdone somethingwrong.
IcantellheflinchesandIwanttotakeitback.I wantthewordstoslidebackdownmythroatsoIcan spitthemoutdifferently.Idon’t.It’sfartoolate anywayashehasalreadystartedtalking.
I’veneverheardhimtalkthisfastanditseemslike he’sscramblingforsomethingtosaysoIsimplyturn around.WhileI’mtwistingmybodyaroundandupI putahandonhisshoulder.HequietsasIhadhopedhe would.I’mfartootiredtountangleanyofthefew wordsIpickedupon.
Iwanttosleepandforgetaboutthisencounter, includingtheeverloudmobofangrypeople.Perhaps especiallytheveryloudmobofangrypeople.Ican’t though,Imayneverbeableto.
Thesilenceisbackoverusandit’sthick.Ican’t breatheandIknowhecan’teither.
Hecoughsandit’sover.I’mgladhefoundawayto breakitup.
IfinallythinkaboutmyappearanceandInervously tugatmyhairbecauseI’msureit’smattedandgross anddirty.MyclothesarerumpledandIwanttopeel themoffmybodybecauseI’mstillsuffocating. Ihearthesoundsofpaperscrinklingandsuddenlya mintisofferedbeforemebyahandthatlookslikeit hasn’tworkedadayinitslifeandalaughcrawlsoutof me.
It’sthefirstsignoflifeinmyselfsincethepasthour. It’sabitwetandfeelslikebreakingmyarmwhenIwas youngandmybrotherhadmademelaugh.Ilookedup athimandthesunwasahaloaroundhishead.I’dnever seenanangelbeforethatday.I’msurethatTheois anotherone.
Igingerlypickitupandhisfingerscurltowardshis palm.Heremembered.Itwasaquietmomentona quietdayinthemiddleoflastfallandsnowhadjust fallen.MynoseandcheekswerepinkandIwassorely missingmymugsfromhome.Hewasbesidemeand prattlingonaboutsomethinginconsequential.I offhandedlymentionedthatIlovedeverything peppermintalthoughdetesteditwithchocolateon mostoccasions.Hesmiledatmethen,I’msure catalogingitintothebackofhismindforadayjustlike this.
Ilookupfrommyviciousstareatthelittleredand whitepeppermint,andseehisface.Ithinkmyeyestear upalittleagainbutI’mnotsurebecauseallIcanthink aboutisthatheremembered.
MoiraAlexander
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,MaryLeDoux
MYGRANDFATHER'SHEART ATTACKCHANGEDMYLIFE Mygrandfatherhadaheartattack.Thishappened whenIwasaroundfive.Itwasanicesunnydayoutside. Butaroundnighttimemymomtoldmewehadtogo.I rememberitwasabriskdaywhenweweredrivingin mymom 'sblackcar.Mymomwasveryquietonthe waytotheplaceweweregoing.Ididnotknowwhere weweregoinguntilwearrivedatthehospital.
IwasverynervouswhenIheardaboutwhatwas happening.ThenmymomandIleftthehospital.Itwas veryquiet,thewallswerevividlyadarkershadeofblue, andthetilewaswhitewithsomeblackspots.Icouldsee mytwounclesandmygrandmawithafunnywhitehat. Mymomtoldmeaboutwhathappenedtomy grandfather.Atthispoint,Iwasreallyscaredofwhat couldhavehappenedtomygrandfather.Itseemedasif everythingwascrashingdownuponme.
Afterafewverylonghourswereceivedthenews thathewasok.AndIremembersittinginmyroom reflectingthatitseemedtheroomwassowarm. Everythingseemedbacktonormalbut.Myheartwas stillracingafterwhatIlearnedaboutwhathappenedto mygrandfather.Iwasveryrelieved.ThenIthoughtof whatIcouldhavemissedwithmygrandfather.Onthis topic,therearelotsofwaystohandlegrief.Talkingto someone,oraskingtheLordforhelpisacoupleof ideas.Youwillalwaysknowtheyareinabetterplace. AfterthatsituationwasalloverIreflectedonwhat justhappenedtomygrandfather.Howdidthischange mylife?
ThischangedmylifebylearningHoweasilyIcould losethings.LikehowIcouldhavelostmygrandfather. Youcanneverappreciatethingsenoughuntilyoudon’t havethemanymore.LikeifIlostafamilymemberlike mygrandfatherhowIcouldhavelosthimIthought aboutthememoriesIcouldhavelost.Likemeandhim goingtoNewYorkCity,AndhowIcouldhavenever hadthosepreciousmomentsIcouldhavelost.There arelotsofthingsyoucanlose.
Inconclusion,thiswasalearningmomentformeand taughtmeIcanlosethingssoeasily.Thanksfor listeningtome.IalsogotohishouseeverydayAfter lookingbackandanalyzingthesituationIwasin.AndI realizedhoweasilyIcanlosethings.Itisavery dauntingthoughttothinkaboutlosingafamily memberandthebestthingtodoisthinkaboutit.The thingsyoudidwiththemandyouwillknowtheywillbe inabetterplaceandtheywon’tbesuffering.Andyou willalwayshavethememories.Youwillalsostillhave themomentswiththemtoremember.Forever.
EastonRorex SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 7thGrade,BethTaylor
OVERCOMINGFEAR Imaginehavingtoovercomeyourbiggestfear.That iswhatIhadtodowhenIwasscaredthemost.Iwasat athemeparkandIhatedheightssoIwasafraidof rollercoasters.Beingafraidofheightsatthetimewas mybiggestfearbecauseIthoughtoftheworstthings thatcouldhappenlikefalling.Ilearnedhowto overcomemybiggestfearsonowIbelievethatIcan overcomeanyotherfear.
Ialreadytalkedaboutthisalittlebitbutmybiggest fearwasheights.WhenIwouldgotoanythemepark andseetherollercoastersIwouldstarttogetscared. OnedayIgotsoscaredthatIcouldn'tevenhearoneby theendoftheday.IthoughtofhowIcouldovercome thisfear.WhenIgothomeItoldmyself,“NexttimeI gotoathemeparkIwillridealltheridesandovercome myfearofheights.”WhenIwouldsaythistomyself moreandmoremyfearwoulddecreaseandIbelieved whatIwasstartingtosay.ThenexttimeIwenttothat themeparkIovercamemyfearandIwasabletogaina senseofknowledgethatmademebelievethatIcould overcomeanyfearthathappenedtome.
SomethingpeoplemightwonderishowIwasable toovercomemyfear.BeforeIdidn'tthinkthatIcould overcomemyfearbecauseIhadtogetoutofmyhead andstopthinkingthatbadthingshappenIwouldtry andfocusonthegoodthingsthatcouldhappen.One majorthingwasthepeoplewhohelpedme.
Myfamilyandfriendswereabletounderstandmy positionandtheyhelpedbytalkingtomeandtryingto letmeknowthatIwouldbeabletoovercomethisfear. Iusedtooverthinkalotofsituationseverydecision thatIwouldmakeIwouldhaveahardtimetryingto thinkofthepositivesthatcouldhavecomeoutofthe situationIwasin.Anotherelementthathelpedmewas havingsomeonetoguidemethroughmytroublesand fears.IfeltthatwhenIwouldhaveanotherpersonthat hasgonethroughwhatIhavetheywouldguidemeand letmeknowthateverythingwouldbefine.
Nowyoumightbethinkingwhatismynewthought processoffear?ThefirstthingthatIdoisfindout whatIamscaredof.IfIaminasituationwhereIget nervousorscaredIfindoutwhy.Itcouldbesomething sillylikeyourshadoworsomethingseriouslikedeath nomatterwhatitisItrytofindoutwhyImightbe scared.ThesecondstepthatIgothroughisjusttrying tocalmmyselfdown.Somethingsthathelpmecalm downaretakingdeepbreathsandjusttryingtothinkof otherthings.Thethirdstepissimplebutworksgreat. Ifyousituationthatyoufeellikeyoucan'ttakecareof yourselfyoucouldjustpraytoGod.WhenIprayto GodIdon'tfeellikeI'mbeggingforanythingitfeels likeIamhavingaconversationwithanotherperson. TheLordhelpsguidemethroughproblemsthatI haveandHetakescareofmeandleadsmetonotbe fearful.
WhenIgotovermybiggestfearIfeltlikeIcould overcomeanyfear.NowthatIseethisperspectiveI cancalmmyselfwithanyfearthatIhave.I'mnot sayingthatmystepscouldchangeyourwayofseeing thingsbutitsurehelpedme.Sobecausemywayofhow IdealwithfearchangednowIcanovercomeanyfear thatImayface.
CrosbyHenry SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 7thGrade,BethTaylor
DRIVINGWITHTHESHARKS Whenmostpeoplethinkaboutsharks,theythinkof man-eatinghunters.However,whenIthinkofsharks,I thinkofanotheroneofGod'swonderfulcreations. WhenIwas10yearsold,Iaskedtogosnorkelingwith sharksformybirthdaypresent.ItwasabeautifulJuly dayinJupiter,FloridawhenIgottoseebullsharksup closeandinpersonandseethemfeedonbait.Itwas amazing!ThiswassignificantinmylifebecauseIgotto seethattherearestillmagnificentcreaturesintheworld. Divingwithsharkshasmadememoreinterested,brave, andcaptivatedbythem.
Whenyouseetheminpersonyouautomatically becomemoreinterestedinthem.WhenmydadandI watchedSharkWeekIlovedthesharks.Theylooked magnificentanditwasinteresting.Soformybirthday,I askedforitandIgottagodivingwithsharksformy10th birthday.SowewerejustattheFloridaKeysandgotto thedockandstartedwaiting.Finally,theboatgothere andweboardedtheboatandsetsail.Theboatridewas calm.Thewaveswerebigsotheboatjustcutthrough this.Itwascalm,butyoucantellthateveryonewas excited.Igotsoexcitedwhenwegotthere.Soyoucan seehowexcitedIwaswhenIgotinthewater.
SwimmingwithSharkshelpsmeunderstandwhat braverymeanstome.SowhenIgotinthewateritwas brightblueandgettingdarkerasyoulookdown.We wereonthesurfaceofthewaterandthesunfeltsogood withthesunhittingmyback.Igottoseeabeautiful bullshark.Itwasamazing,thesharkswerecomingunder you,andfeelingtheirpresencewasbeautiful.
Theoceanwassodeepyoucouldnotseethebottomofit. Itwasinthemiddleofnowherebutthatmadeitmore beautiful.Istartedtounderstandhowtheylivedown there.Itwasawholeotherworlddownthere.Somydad wasfreedivingwiththemandIhadtheideatogoswim downwithhim.I'mprettysureIalsoscaredmymom halftodeath.Thenmydadhadtobringmeup.Every secondIwasinthewaterIlovedthemevenmore.This givesmerespectforthemtoo.
AfterdivingwithsharksIwantedtolearnmoresoI couldcontinueappreciatingtheDivesandbemore captivatedaboutthem.IalwayslovewatchingShark Weekandthat'salsoanotherdocumentarythatIloveto watchaboutsharks.It'salwayssomuchfunandso informational.Ialsolovetoreadbooksaboutthemwith allthepicturesandthedetailsaboutthem.It'samazing. SinceI'mascubadiverIalwaysgototheoceanevery summerasmuchasIcantogoscubadivingwithmydad. AndIalwayshopewegettoseeasharkwhilewe'redown therecuzIalwaysrememberaboutourdivewhenIwas 10.
Divingwithsharksmademecaptivated,interested, andbrave.Howtheylivehasmademeinterestedin sharks.Sharkshavemadememorebravewhendiving withthem.TheyhavealsomademecaptivatedbyGod's work.Thishasmademethankfulbecausethisexperience notalotofpeoplegettohaveandthat'swhyIlikesharks andthat'swhytheyhavemadeanimpactinmylife.
LukeDoxsee SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 7thGrade,BethTaylor
ANOT-SOWELCOMETOMIDDLESCHOOL Tosaythatmiddleschoolisaseasonofmajor changesinthelivesofboysandgirlsisan understatement.JoelDanielHarrisofTomTodIdeas describesthemiddleschooler’sbrainas“figuratively andquiteliterally“onfire”duringthisstage.”Didyou knowthattheonsetofadolescencerepresentsthe secondmostintenseperiodofbraindevelopmentinthe humanlifespan?Themiddleschooler’sbrainisnotthe onlythinginoverdrive.Theyareexperiencingmajor bodychangesandtheirhormoneshavebegunflexing theirmuscles.Onemightsayallthesechangesarethe recipefordisaster.Thishasbeentrueinmylife.The obstaclesofsixthgradepushedmetolearntoselfregulateandperseverethroughcripplinganxietywhile managingADHD,andvisualprocessingdisorders,and adjustingtoanew,chaoticenvironment.
“Youcandragmybodytoschool,butmyspirit refusestogo”,thisquotebyAmericancartoonistBill Wattersonperfectlyillustratesthebeginningofmy middleschoolcareer.Itwasmid-Augustintheyearof theyear2023.IwascomingoffofafantasticSummer breakandIhadjustcelebratedmytwelfthbirthday.I wasexcitedtostartthesixthgradeatSilverdaleBaptist Academy.ThefirstdaycameandIwaseagertoget started.DayonewaswhatIcall“fluff.”Wemetour teachersandgotourlockerassignments.Daytwowasa completelydifferentstory.Aswedrovetoschool,I startedfeelingmyheartbeatingfastandmybody trembledabit.IrecognizedthefeelingbecauseIhad dealtwithseparationanxietyinthefourthgrade.
Aswepulledintotheschoolparkinglot,mymind becamefilledwithoverwhelmingthoughtsof unpreparedness.AsIwaswalkingtothebuilding,my mindwasracingwithanxiety.AsIwalkedthroughthe doorthethoughtsgrewlouderandthenextIknewIwas inafull-blownpanicattack.Irrationalfearconsumedme anduncontrollabletearsstartedflowing.I’msureyou canimaginetheembarrassment andhumiliationthis caused.Ihadtogaincontrolofmyanxietyandgetto class.
ManagingmyanxietytookallofmyfocusandI havealwaysstruggledwithpayingattention.Iwas diagnosedwithanxietyandADHDwhenIwasnine.It isespeciallyhardformetopayattentionwhilereading. Itisalsoverydifficultformetositdownandfocuson schoolwork.IfIambeingcompletelyhonest,Ifind sittingstilltobedifficultinanysituation.Thenthereis myvisualprocessingdisorderwhichaffectsmyvisual memoryandabilitytoseewords.Allofmylearning differencescoupledwiththedemandingacademicload ofmiddleschoolandrapidbrainandbodydevelopment createdaperfectstorm.Ineededanewstrategyfor middleschool,andIneededitquickly.Withthehelpof myparentsandschool,aplanwasputinplace.I receivedcounselingandbeganmedicationtohelpmy bodyhandlestressbetter.ThenIjoinedtheresource programatschoolwhichprovidedmewithextra supportandhelpedmestayontask.Resourceput togetheralistofaccommodationstosuitmylearning differences.
Themeasurestakentoprovidemesupportinnavigating middleschoolwereagamechanger.Ilearnedmethodsto helpmecontrolmyanxiety,attendedcountlessvision therapysessions,andreceivedassistancesuitedtomy learningstyle.Mostimportantly,Ilearnedtogivemyself graceinmyjourney.Myhardworkandperseverance paidoffandIevenmadetheheadofschoollist.My sixth-gradeyearmayhavestartedasadisasterbutit endedintriumph.IamthankfulfortheobstaclesIfaced andconqueredbecausetheyhavemademeabetter versionofmyself.
ALESSONFROMALOVEDONE “SometimesyouwillNEVERknowthevalue ofamomentuntilitbecomesaMEMORY.”-Dr.Seuss. Cherisheverymomentwithyourlovedonesbecauseyou neverknowhowmanydaysareleft.
EveryonealwaysthoughtScottwasagrumpyold man,buttheyneverknewhimlikeIdid.Scottwasmy dad‘sdad‘sbrothersothismeanthesawmydadthrough hischildhoodaswellashesawmethroughpartofmy own.ScottwasmygreatunclebutIjustcalledhim Uncle.WhenIwasbornpeoplesawthathewasn’tas grumpyastheythoughtwhenhewaswithme.Instantly everyoneknewIwashisfavoritepersonandthatIhad himwrappedaroundmylittlefinger.Unclewasmy literalfavoriteperson.Hewaskindandloving.Hetaught merespectandmanners.Ibelievepartofthereasonwhy I’makindandcompassionatepersonisbecauseofhim.
SomeofmyfavoritememorieswerewithUncle. OnesummermeandUnclewereoutbythepool shootingwatergunsateachother.“Annabelle!You’re goingtohavetostopsomyclothesdon’tgetevenwetter thantheyalreadyareandIdon’twanttheinsideofmy cartobewet!”hehadsaidwhilehewaslaughing.“OK, butIdon’twantto,”Isaidbacktohim.Mymomwas outsidethewholetime.Shewaslaughingwhileshe recordedthewholething.IremembermeandUncle laughingwhilethewholethingwastakingplace.
AnotheroneofmyfavoritememorieswithUncle waswhenmeandmymomwouldcelebrateholidays togetherandUnclewouldjoinus.OnValentine’sDay, mymomorderedaheart-shapedpizza.
Unclepickedthepizzaupfromthestoreandthencame overtomyhousetoeatwithmeandmymom.Me, Mom,andUncletalkedandlaughedwhileweate,and afterwetalkedandlaughedsomemore.Myunclepassed awayonOctober31,2020.Ididn’tfindoutuntilafew dayslaterthathehadpassedaway.ThedayIfoundout justsohappenedtobethedaythatmycousinwashaving abirthdayparty.AlthoughIhadjustbeencompletely crushedasmyfavoritepersoninthewholeworlddiedI knewhewouldwantmetogo.AsIcriedsittingonthe couch,mydadandmystepmomwereboththereforme, huggingmeandtellingmethatitwasgonnabeOK. AfterIcalmeddownIpushedthroughthepainand didn’tletmycousindownandwenttoherbirthdayparty. AfterthepartywhenIcamehome,Iwassad.Ifeltlike therewasahugeholeinmyheart.Thedayofthefuneral IreceivedUncle’sflagbecausehehadservedinthe UnitedStatesMarineCorps.Ihavekepthisflagvery nearanddeartomyheart,alongwithpicturesandvideos ofourmemoriestogether.
StoriesofUncleshowloveandfamilybonds.So imaginehowyouwouldfeelwhenthepersoninyourlife whoislikean‘Uncle’died.Well,that’sprobablyhowI felt.Thiswholesituationhashelpedmerethinktheway thatIspendmytimewiththepeoplethatIlove.Inow knowhowimportantmymemoriesofUncleareandthat istheonlythingthatmattersnow.Afterall,youalways wanttocherishtimeandmemorieswiththepeopleyou love.
AnnabelleWelch SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 7thGrade,BethTaylor
“You'reakid,youdon’thaveanyseriousproblems.” False.“You'renotateenyet,you'refine.”False.One infiveteensstrugglewithmentalhealth.Andtwoof myfriendsinfifthgradewereinthatstatistic. Fortunatelyforme,Igrewupinagoodhome;aNice house,myparentsaretogether,moneywasnevertight. Iwasabitspoiled.Igrewupwithawonderfulfamily centeredaroundGod.Thesegirlsdidn’tgetthat.They bothcamefromnon-religioushouseholdsandhad familyissues.Theirparentswereusuallydrunk,or angryandscreaming.Onewasconstantlymovingin andoutofapartmentsandhomes.Theydidn’tgetas luckyasIdid,andthat’swhereallofthisstarted.
BeforeIsawlifeasaworldofcolor.Thoughtsthat peoplecouldstruggleatouragedidn’tseemtostrike me.IthoughteveryonelivedlikeIdid,butInever realizedhowluckyIwas.Iwastenwhenthistookplace, alotofthingsjustdidn’tseemtoregister.Ineversaw thingsastheywere.Ididn’trealizepeoplecould seriouslystruggleatourage.
IstartedtonoticethatJennawasseriouslystrugglingin mathclassoneday.Iknewthatshehaddealtwithalot ofissuesinthepast,butInevertrulyunderstoodwhat. Iwatchedherslowlypickupapencilsharpenerand fiddlewithit.Myheadstartedtofillwithwonder, “whatcouldshebedoing?”Iwatchedasshepulledout thebladeandputalittlecutonherwristunderthe table.IwatchedherdoitafewtimesmoreuntilI movedtotheseatnexttoher.
Itookitoutofherhandandthrewitaway.Shetriedit withanothersharpener,andIthrewthatawaytoo. ”Noelleit’sokay,youdon’tneedtoworry.”Ididn’t knowalot,butIknewthatthingslikethatwerenever okay.
IwaiteduntilwegotoutofclassandIpulledheraside. “Ithinkyouneedtotalktosomeoneaboutthis.You needhelp.”Shedidn’twanttodoitatfirst,butIfinally convincedherifIwentwithher.Afterthat,shestarted havingweeklymeetingswiththecounselor.Iwouldtag alongjusttogethertogo.Weletthecounselortakeit fromthere,andweheadedbacktoclass.Iwasalways knownasthe“therapistfriend.”Rightafterthat, anotheroneofmyfriendscameuptome.“Canyousee myscarsthroughthisshirt?”Irealizedafterthat,that Alliewasstrugglingtoo.
Aboutaweekafteroneofthelastmeetingswiththe counselor,Jennacalledafterschool.“Noelle,thecops areatmydoor.”Ohno.“Wellopenit!”Isaidina panic.Sheopenedthedoorandthenendedhercall withme,sayingshewouldupdatemelater.Herparents weren’thome,sotheywaiteduntilherparentsarrived. Theytalkedtoheraboutherissues,andhowtheywere contactedbyourschool.Theyeventuallyleftandwe returnedtoschoolthefollowingweek.Thatmorning,I sawaTikTokofAllie’sscarredwrists.Jennatoldme thatshewasgratefulforhowIhelpedherandthatshe wantedtohelpAllie.Weshowedthesamecounselor, andshepulledheroutofclass.Shetookitfromthere.
WhatIlearnedfromthiswasoneofthegreatest lessons.Nomatterwhatkindoffacesomeoneputson isnotalwayswhat’sintheirheart.Shewasfunny,a personfulloflaughter.Iusedtoalwaysbeinmyworld. Shemademerealizethatnotallthingsareskindeep. Youhavetolookbeneaththeskintofindtheirsoul.
BothofthesegirlsnowhavetheirfaithintheLord, andIcouldn’tbeprouder.Alwaysremember,aperson's heartandsoularenotalwaysshownontheoutside,and youhavetolooktofindyourtrueself.
THINGSITAKEFORGRANTED Kidsallaroundtheworlddon'thavethestuffyouorI have;wedon'trealizethis,butIdidlastyear.Ilearned thatItakethingsforgranted,andmaybeIdon'tcare aboutmythings,butotherpeopleneedthemmore thanIdo.
Kidsallaroundtheworlddon'thavethingsandstarve. Sometimes,schoolistheonlyplacewherekidscaneat andbeactive.Mymomgotanewjobatapublicschool wherelittlekidsgo.It'sanelementaryschoolnotevena mileawayfrommyschool.Shesaidtheybarelyget anything food,clothes,toys,andmore.WhenIwent tohelpcleanmymom'soffice,Isawthepoorlittlekids, andtheyweredrainedinmanywaysIcan'teven explain.Iknewtheyhadasparkinthem,though.So,I hadtodonatealotofmyoldstuffandmyfavorite childhoodthingstothem,andIgotmad.ButwhenI sawthesmilesontheirfaceswhentheyweregivenmy things,evenifitwassomethingsolittle,itmade everythingworthit.
Thelittlethingsmadetheirday.IfIweregiventhat,I woulddotheopposite.Thestuffthathadbeengivento themmadethemsohappythatitmademesad.WhenI waslittle,Iwouldhavecomplained,andnowIstilldo, becauseit'sabadhabit.Later,Iwasdoingaservice projecttohelpthekidsinneed,toplay,feed,andlove them,becausethelasttimeIsawthem,theywoulduse verylittlefoodandplaywithotherpeople.
Whentheygetsomething,itmeanstheworldtothem. Wehavetolookoutforthatincaseweare complaining.Thesekidsgetbarelyanything,andwe needtogivesomethingtothatcommunitybecausethat isanactofGod.LikeIsaid,onethingwouldbeloving, caring,sharing,andsomanyotherfeelings.
Wecomplainaboutmanythings,mostlyaboutthings thatarenotnecessary,butpeoplecomplainabout health,lackofshelter,nofoodforaweek,nowater,bad clothes,andmore.So,weshouldneversayagreedy wordandbethankfulforwhatwehave,boththebig andsmallthingsweown.That'showIusedtoact,but nowmylessonislearned,andIrealizehowthankfulI shouldbeforthethingsIget.Akeytipistoalwayssay thankyoutoshowyourrespectforsomethingyou receivedoranopportunity.Whenlifegivesyou opportunities,takethem,sothenyoucanhelp somebodyelse,andtheywillsaythankyoufor everything.Now,withtheserviceprojectcomingup,I willtrymybesttohelpthemandgiveoldbutstillgood toystothem.TheyneedthemmorethanIdo,soI hopeyouunderstandthatbynow.Anyway,whilekids arekindofdyingoutthere,wearealwaysfighting aboutsomethingwedon'thave.Gooutthereandserve atahomelessshelter,school,orphanage,nursinghome, petshelter,andsomanymore.Thereasonwhyisthat tosomepeople,smallthingsaremassivefromtheir pointofview.
Inconclusion,thislessontaughtmetobethankful, grateful,andnotgreedybecauseIdidn'tget something.Asanotherresult,thingswethrowaway, giveup,andleavebehindaresovaluableinsomebody else'seyes.Ihopethislessontaughtyouaboutother peopleasittaughtme.Makesuretovolunteerand provideservicetoothers.Onelastreminder:don't complaintoyourparentsbecausetheykindofpayfor yourlifeandsupport.
SEVENTH GRADEPOETRY BEAUTIFULTRUTHLIVINGNATURE Maybenatureisreallyalive, Listeningtoeverythingwedo: Everysoundwemake, Everylittlemovementwetake.
Naturecaninspireus
Insomanycoolways. Ifyouneedsomethingprettytodraw, Ifyouneedtodistractyourselffromstress, Ifyouneedsomethingtothinkaboutdeeply, Justlookaroundandseewhatnatureshowsus.
Naturedoesn’tgetenoughcredit, Eventhoughit’ssuperimportantinourlives.
Peopleoftensayit’sdirty, Andsomepeoplesayitsmellsbad, Butnatureisjustlikeus, Livingandbreathing,fulloflife! Naturehasitsownstoriestoshare, Waitingforustopayattentionandlearn.
Natureisjustliving, Gettingalongwitheverythingaroundit, Teachingustoappreciateourworld.
Andwearepartofnaturetoo, Connectedinwayswedon'talwaysnotice, Encouragingustotakeamoment, Tostopandenjoyallthatitgivesus.
THECHANGESINLIFE Inaplacewithgiggles, Laughterdancesinthesun, Dreamsbloomlikespringflowers.
Timeweavesthroughthedays, Wisdomgained,yetstillwelaugh, Balancefoundinjoy.
Whispersofthepast, Softsmilesinthetwilightglow, Memorieslikestars.
PrajwalAdapa
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
GROWINGME Hesitantandsmall, Scaredtotakeabigstep, Notreadyforchange.
NowIfeelthesun, Happyhearted,andprepared, Freedom’ssoftmorning.
Endlesslikethesky, I’llreachfordreamsIcan’tsee, Growingwithoutend.
KyliahHouse
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
Ohsweethopefulchild Headfilledwithsuchbigdreams You’llbethereoneday.
Iwalkdownthehall Icannotletmydreamsslip. Iwillchasethemon.
Mywordscarryweight Ihavefreedomandpower. Itisallworthit.
JohnMcCarthy
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
Themusic
Liketheenclosingtide
Washesoverme
Butitalso Excitesme
Likeriverrapids
Therockingcurrents
Wordslikeseaglassdrifttotheshore
Thegraceofwater
Themusic
Likethewanderingclouds
Washesoverme
Butitalso Excitesme
Likestronggusts
Thehowlingwinds
Wordslikeleavesliftoffthegrass
Thepowerofwind
Themusic
Liketheembersofthedivineflame
Washesoverme
Butitalso Excitesme
Likepurificationbyflame
Thedancinglights
Wordslikesparksflyintothesky
Thepossibilityoffire
Iamshifting
Likethemovementoftheground
Alwayschanging,liketheseasons
NotwhoIwas
NotwhoIwillbe Butme. Onlyme.
Thecertaintyofearth
Isobel(Izzy)Steele
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
ONCE,AM,SOON
Past: Onceverynervous
Onceaworrier,onceshort
Ihopetobemore
Present: Readingmanybooks
Ihavebraces,usetoothpicks
Iamabrother
Future: Hopingtobekind
Hopingtobefunnier Iwillbemore,soon
EastonWeaver
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts
7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
FORONETOBEBOLD Itriedtobebold
Theshowmaninsideshinedbright Couldn’tseetheend
QuietlyIsit
Daydreaming‘boutthecurtains Andthespotlightshine
Iyearnforthestage
Sharingstoriesfrominside Myownlittlemind
JohnYasenchak
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 7thGrade,JanetEppoliti
Tosayadogisaman’sbestfriendisn’talie, butthey’realsoagirl’sbestfriend.
Irememberalmosteverynightwithher, mainlybecausemostnightswereprettysimilar. Infact,theyweresosimilarthatIevenmadesome habits.
IrememberwhenIwouldholdmybreathandlook overmybedanxiously everytimeIheardhertakealongpausebetween breaths:
I’dmakesureherchestwasstillrisingandI’dlistento hearherbreathe.
Hereverybreathbroughtmepeace. Itfeltalmostasifeverybreathshebreathedoutwas breathingairbackintomylungs.
Irememberwhenherbreathingwouldbecome excessivelyunsteady soI’djumpoutofmybed toherside.
Iwouldgentlypetherasifsheweremorefragilethan myheartinthatmoment, I’dshhhinhereartocalmherbreathingdownandjust tellhershe’sok.
NowIwishIcouldtakeeveryshhhback, becausetheyworked.
NowI’mleftwithnothingbutadeafeningsilencethat floatsinmyroomforever.
IrememberthedayswhenIwasyoungerandI’djust layonthedrivewaywithherandstare. Iwasalwaysafraidoflosingher, butbackthenitwasmoreofjustarandomthought thananactualreality.
IknowI’veonlyhadonedogallmylife, butIknowshe’llalwaysbethebestoneI’lleverhave. Idon’tknowwhatmoreIwould’veaskedforinadog, onlymoretimetogether.
Shewasawalkingmiracle: Shesurvivedsevereheartworms. Herwhitebloodcellstartedworkingdaysbeforeshe would’vebeenputdown. Shelivedforalongtime.
Therewasonlyonethingaboutherthatwasn’ta miracle.
Itwasn’tamiraclethatIgotadoglikeher, Itwasablessing.
MaceyConrad
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 7thGrade,WillCrumly
SISTERS sisters, notofbloodbutbyheart
raretofind, easytoletgoof
youmaynotalwayslikethem, butyouwillforeverlovethem cheeringforyouwhenyouwin, byyoursidewhenyoulose
abondthatcan'tbebroken, ordestroyed
timedoesnotfadeit, justgluesthebondstronger
familyisn'tlimitedtoblood
ConnieSanders
ChattanoogaSchoolfortheArtsandSciences
JennettLockrow
OH,TOHAVEHAIRTHATHASNOCARE!
Inaquirky,bustlingtownwherelaughterfillstheair, Livesaboywithblondehair,andquiteaquirkyflair. Herunsaroundtheneighborhood,withmischiefinhissmile, Hisgoldenlocksarefamousfortheirwhimsicalstyle.
Hishair'sagoldencurtain,withamindallitsown, It’sbeenknowntophotobombwhenhe’stakingselfiesalone.
Heoncetriedtotameit,withahatoracap, Buthishairwouldalwayspop,withacheekylittlesnap.
Onedayhemetapelican,downbytheshore, Thebirdlookedathishair,andsquawked,"Tellmemore!"
Theystruttedsidebyside,inacomicalparade, Hishairflowingfreely,inagrandcharade. Hisfriendswouldtrytokeepup,withhishair'scrazytricks, Onceitformedaperfectmustache,withacoupleofflicks. Theneighborswouldchuckle,athiswildhairdospree, Wonderinghowhishairgotintosuchpeculiarities. Thewindwouldjoinintoo,touslinghisgoldenmane, Buthishairwouldbouncerightback,likeit’splayingagame.
Itswirledandittwirled,likeamerry-go-round, Hisblondehairglowedbrightly,whereverhewasfound. Heoncegotahaircut,andthoughtitwouldbehave, Buthishairjustgrewback,withawaveandarave.
Itdancedonhishead,likeithadalife, Turningeveryordinarymomentintoahair-raisingrife.
Inschool,itwoulddoodle,onitsownlittlepad, Theteacherswouldgiggle,evenwhentheyweremad. Hishairwouldsketchcartoons,withatwistandaspin, Turningtestsintocomics,muchtotheboy’sgrin. Witheveryturnofhishead,hishairwouldperform,
Agoldenmasterpiece,alwayswaybeyondthenorm. Andso,helivedhisdays,withhisradianthairsowild, Aboywithblondehairglowing,causinglaughterallthewhile.
So,ifyouseehimskipping,underthesunnysky, Knowhishair’sagoldenpromise,bringingcheertogirlandguy. Forinthisquirkytown,wherelaughterfillstheair, Livesaboywithblondehair,andadventurestospare!
JudahMcDaniel HilgerHigherLearning 7thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
EIGHTHGRADE PROSE MUDBUDDIES Skalesisananacondawholivesinthe“GreatPuddle" along with his friend Pebble the python. Many other snakes,lizards,andfrogslittledoallthesecrittersknow is that the reason they are all hyper intelligent with strangebodiescomparedtoothercreaturesisbecause the so-called “Great Puddle” is full of radioactive materialsandthatmutatedallofthecrittersinthearea.
All of the mutants lived peacefully in small villages constructedoutofleavesandtwigsonthecoastofthe pond.Theanimalsenjoyedfishing,playinggames,and initiating gladiatorial battles. Skales and Pebble are bothgladiatorsandateam.
“TheMudBuddies”astheycallthemselvesaresome of the best gladiators from the puddle. Skales is the morenimbleagilefighterwithhisclassicshortsword andshieldwhilePebbleismoreofatankstrikingfear intoanyenemywithhismenacingmaskandlargebattle ax.
Injustafewdaysthebiggestgladiatortournamentwill start and “The Mud Buddies” For weeks and weeks both Skales and Pebble were constantly sparring and goingtosmallertournamentsinpreparationfortheir tournament.Everynighttheywouldstudythetextsof thegreatestgladiatorsfromthepuddle.
After nonstop practice the tournament had come and theywerefirstup.
Theygrabbedtheirgearandstoodinfrontofthegate, slowly it rised up filling their chamber with light. Parallelfromthemontheothersideofthestadiumthe opposing team confidently strolled out of the other gate.
“You ready Pebble?” Skales asked in a confident demeanor.
“Ofcourse!”Pebbleexclaimed,raisinghisax.
They rushed out towards their opponents ready, willingpreparedtofight.Theyheroicallyclashedwith theiradversaries.Fourbrilliantcombattrainedminds allclashingatonce.Skaleswastakingonageckowhile Pebblewasfightingoffahornedlizard,SkalesFinally knocked out the gecko with a mean kick after it had blockedallofhisinitialattacks.MeanwhilePebblehad notonlydroppedhisaxbuthehadfallenoverhimself. Justbeforethehornedlizardhithimwithapowerful blow Skales tackled him to the ground. They both tousledoneanotheronthegroundtothepointwhere Skaleshadtofightdirtysohepickedsomesandupoff thegroundandthrewitintohisopponentseyes.
Thepoorcreaturewasinsomuchpainthathehadto forfeitthematchgivingthesnakestheirfirstwin.They wentbackintotheirdedicatedstonechambertorestin preparationfortheirnextmatch.Luckilyforthemthey wouldhavealongtimeuntilthesecondsetofmatches began.
“SoPebblewhathappenedoutthere.”
“Myhelmetgotturnedaroundbythatdarnlizard,” Herantedwhiletwistinghishelmetbackintoplace.
Before they knew it their gate started rising up initiatingafight.
“What'sgoingonweshouldstillhaveafewhourstill ournextfight,”Skalesquestionedconcerningly.
They both walked out very perplexed and still exhaustedfromtheirfirstbattle.Thentheemperorof the“GreatPuddle”himselfwalkedoutintothearena.
“Greetingseveryone,youandourfiercefightersare probably wondering what's going on and I'll tell you. We’ve decided to select one of the groups to go throughasortofgauntlet.Theywillattempttofight each and every other fighter if at one point they are beaten in battle the gauntlet the victor shall take it uponthemselvesthiswillcontinueuntiloneteamisleft standing.
The “Mud Buddies” were quite literally shaking in their boots as one bulky king cobra walked out (king cobras were notorious for winning battles. The fight started and they were getting clobbered. Pebble got thrown up against a wall and Skales had dropped his shieldduetohishandssweatingsomuch.
The cobra didn't even enter the ring with a weapon which in a way just made him scarier. A few punches laterandtheMudBuddieswerelayingontheground outsideonstretcherscoveredinbandages.
“Ow my shoulder!” Pebble groaned, gripping his bruisedarm.
“WellthatendedfarfasterthanIthoughtitwould,” Skalessaidashepulledhisfriendup.
“Thisisn’tfair,wecan'tallowthis!”Pebbledeclaredin afitofrage.
The two stubbornly walked off towards their houses swearing that they would be back once the next tournament rolled around and they were serious they wouldbeback.
HenryJohnston ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 8thGrade,MaryLeDoux
Therewasanoldwellintheforest,veryfarawayfrom anyhouseingrassfield;Withtreesineverydirection aroundit.Forsomereason,mostofthetreeswerenear thewell.Almost30yearsago,amanwantedtoseewhat wasinsidethewell,sohecutdownthetreesthat surroundedit,inordertogetaclearerview.Hetook hisbrother,Danwithhim.Dan’sattentionwassoon guidedawayfromtheman,whothensuddenly disappeared.WhenDanlookedinsidethewell,itwasso deephethatcouldn’tseethebottomatall.Thoughhe hadn’tmadeasound,Danwasconvincedhisbrother wasinsidethatwell.
Hetookhisstorytothetownhall,askingforasearch partytolookinsidethewellforhisbrother,butitwas denied.Hisstorywasvague,andheseemedmad,and restless,fromthedisappearanceoftheman.Thetown hallorderedthatthewellhaddangersignsputup aroundit.Didithelp?Notatall.Atonofteenagers wenrtnonetheless,andnonereturned.Itgottothe pointwheretheyhadtobuildabrickwallsurrounding thewell.Andthedisappearancesstopped.
Afterdecades,thestorywasforgotten,andthelandwas boughtoutbyafamily,theMitchells.Whenthey foundthebrickwall,itwastorndown.AndI,Sophia Mitchell,ammakingitmygoaltogettothebottomof thiscase.Literally.Iwanttogotothebottomofthe well.Aftermovingin,Ilearnedaboutthestoryofthe well,whichwaslocatedtwoacresfrommyhouse.
ImadeitlooklikeIhadstumbleduponitwhile exploring,andtoldmyfather,towhichhetoredown thebrickwalltoeasemy“troubled,curiousmind.”As hecalledit.Littledidheknow,Iwasonlygetting started.
Iapproachedmyfatherashesatonhisloungechair, “Father,dowehaveanyflashlightswithus?”Iinquired innocently,astonotarousesuspicion.Ihadarecordof gettingintotrouble,andIwouldn’tbesurprisedifmy parentsstartedgettingskepticalofmyrequestsquickly.
Fatherlookedupfromhisnewspaper,hiseyescurious,. “I’mnotsure,butifwehaveany,they’resuretobein thehallwaycabinet.Whatdoyouneeditfor?”He questioned,withonesingularbrowraised.
“Westillhaven’tputalightupintheattic,andmother saidsheputsomeofmyboxesupthereduringthe move.”Ilied.Buttherereallywasn’talightupthere,so itwasn’ttotallyoutoftheordinary.“Anyways,thank you!”Igotoutoftherequicklyandmademywayto thehallwaycloset.Soonenough,Iswungopenthe door,andwasmetwithexactlywhatIwaslookingfor, includinganextrapackofbatteries.“Score..!”Ishoved thembothintomyfavoritebag,alreadyfilledalmostto thebrim,beforezippingitupandsneakingouttothe frontdoor.
Soon,IwasfollowingthemarkersIhadsetupinmy yard,amakeshifttrailtowardsthewell.Itwasn’tfar andonlytookabout10minutesbeforeIcouldseeit.
Iwalkedcloser,gettingoutmyflashlightandcamera, snappingmultiplephotosofthesight,for,well, evidence?InoticedafewthingswhenItookthephotos. Littlesaplingssurroundingthewellthatweren’tthere whenwetorethewalldown.
“Don’ttheseseemabitbigtohavegrownso quickly..?”Imumble,tappingthemwiththetipofmy shoe,watchingastheysway.TheotherthingInoticed, wastheoddatmospherethatseemedtoloomoverthe areanearthewell.But..perhapsthatwasmy“horrorobsessed”imagination.
Iinchclosertowardsthewell,peeringoverintothe depths,andlikei’veheard,therewasnobottomin sight.Iflickonmyflashlightandshineitintothewell, and..
“Stillnothing,”Isigh.Ireachbackintomybagand getoutmyrope,placingmycamerabackinside.After tyingtheropeagainstthewell,Itakeadeepbreath beforecarefullymaneuveringmyselfintothewelland usingtheropetoslowlymakemywaydown.Itfeltlike Iwasclimbingforages.Myhands,whichi’massuming arealreadyredandworn,feelliketheycanhardlyhold on.Thelightfadedmoreandmorefromabovemetill eventuallyIwasleftinutterdarkness.Ishould’ve broughtaheadlamp.Isighonceagain,moreshakythis timeasIstruggletokeepgoing.
Finally,theairgetscolderandIfeelmyfeettouchthe groundandIland,lettinggooftherope,relieveditwas longenoughtomakeitdown.Icouldhearfaint dripping,eachlittlethumpmakingmyskincrawl.I quicklygetoutmyflashlight,scramblingtoturningit onasfastasIcan.Assoonasthelighthitthewalls,I realizedIwasinsideofalargecave.Itwasicycold,and hadwaterdrippingdownfromthewalls.Ishinemy lightaroundindifferentdirections,mappingtheplace out,andoverall,itseemedlikeanormalcave,just.. Creepy.
Ionceagainpullmycameraout,findingagoodspotto capture,asIsnapaphoto,Inoticeasmallglimpseof movementontheframe.Confused,Ilookupfromthe shotandnoticeablackfigureinthedark.“Uh..oh jeez..”Terrified,myvoiceshakes.“Istheresomeone there?”Icallout,loudenoughtoecho.Soonenough, theshadowappearsbeforeme.It’sDan.“You shouldn’thavecome.”Hemutters,hisvoicegrave.And justthen,thegroundsinksunderme,pullingmeinto theabyss.Nevertobeseenagain,justlikealltherest.
GwynnePeterson
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 8thGrade,MaryLeDoux
WorkingatGrizzly’sInninAlaskahadbeensucha mistake.Ihadspentthreemonthstherenow. Itwasahouse-turned-hotelbuiltinthe20s,built throughandthroughwithlogsandsplinteredplanksof wood,withnailsstickingout.Norenovationssince. Theawfulqualityofthewoodthatthehotelwastoo poortofixconfiguredtheinn’sbigweirdrule:keep yourshoesonunlessinbed.Otherwise,you’llstepon it,andyou’llshriek.Thatiswhatthesignsaidoutside. ItwasthefirstthingIsawwhenIgotthere.Near immediatelyafterIreadit,Iheardsomeoneshriek. Someonewhohasn’treadthesign,Iassuredmyself.
Iheardtheshrieksoften.Afterawhile,Ilearned thatRoom11wastheworst.Icheckedinguestsatthe counter,withthatroomlingeringrightaboveme. Hearingthefeetofguestsplodaround,everynowand then,I’dhearthemshriekrightabovemeasthey assumablysteppedonanail.Icouldevenhearthem stopastheydid.IdidtrytowarnguestsIwaschecking inforRoom11everytimetheycamein,butitrarely helped.
Thosepeoplewouldcertainlyhavetodriveawhileto findsomeonetocomplaintoaboutit.Itwasonlyroads, trees,andmountainsformiles.Mooseandbears roamedaroundthem,andoncenightandtotalisolation cameinitmadeeverythingdullandabandoned.It creepedmeout,butonlyalittle.
IwasboundtogobackhometoSeattleinafewdays formySenioryear.MyjobatGrizzly’sInngaveme goodpay,that’sonlywhyIwasthere.Butitwashardto doanythingwhentheshopsweremilesandmilesaway. MybosssaidIlookmorenervoussinceIstarted,but I’ddisagree.Iwasdoingfine.
Oneday,Iwastaskedbyhimwithtakingoutthefull trashbaginthefrontlobby.Itwas11P.M,whenitwas reallygettingdark.
“Doyouthinkyoucanhandleit?”Mybossasked apprehensively,towhichIshrugged,shakily,because ofthecold,sayingyes.
Isteppedoutsideintothecoldair,feelingasifithad handsaroundmyneck.Thesoundofcricketssounded quiet,andalmost,inaway,scared.Tossingthetrash bagintothedumpster,Inoticedthatoldshackonthe hill.I’dnoticeditafewtimes,andwonderedwhatcould havebeenputasideintheshed.Itcouldbewheresome extrarugsfortheroomswere.SoIwenttocheckfor them,incasetherewereindeedrugswhichcouldcover thetroublesomefloors.
Icouldhearheavyanimalsinthedistance,butthey seemedfarenoughawayformetofeelsafe.Tall,dark treessurroundedtheshackominously.Alonecar happenedtostrollbythelongroad,thelights illuminatingmyvisageverybriefly.Ibegantoclimbup thehill.
Theshacksatquietlyonthehill.Ienteredthe warpeddoortofindatunnel.Therewasashriek.
IjoltedmyheadbacktolookaroundwhereIheard it.ThedoorIhadjustcomethroughwasgone.
Ashriekechoedthroughagainthroughthetunnel, andIlookedthatway.WithitbeingtheonlywayI couldgo,now,Ibeganwalkingthatwaytowardsthe soundfromwhereIthoughtitwascomingfrom.
ButIheardanothershriekfromthatway!AsI tossedmyheadback,Iheardanotherintheotherway, again.AndthenagainasIturnedmyheadanotherway.
Ibegantoruninonedirection.EitherI’descapeor I’dfindthesourceofthenoise.ThemoreIran,the moreitdrovemecrazy,theworseitsounded.
Ibegantocoughonsomething.Asmyhands reachedtowardmyface,Ifoundmymouthwasalready wideopen,wide.Ifoundthatasanothershriekechoed throughthetunnel,mythroatwasinfactvibrating withit.
Theshriekingbecameendless.Andmymouthwould notclose.Nomatterhowmuchpainrumbledinitover time.IcouldbarelyeventellifIwasrunningbythe timemyearswentvoidofanyfunction.
Itsoundedmuchworsethantheprickorthin sinkingofoneofthosenailsfromthehotelfloor.But onlyIwasthere,runningandrunningonsoftdirt,not knowingwhatwasaheadofme.
AdaClark ChattanoogaChristianSchool 8thGrade,HaleyPringle
Onceuponatime,humanslivedwithusanimalsin peace.Justanothermemberofthecommunity.Oh! I’msorry,letmeintroducemyself.IamOscarofthe Lontratribe.Beforeyouask,yes,Iamliterateandcan speakEnglisheventhoughIamanotter.Everyanimal can.Wejustdon’tbecausethenwewouldhaveto adheretoyournonsensicalsocietalrules.Letmetell youastoryofhumannatureandbetrayal.
Itwasn’talwayslikethis.Ievenhadahumanfriend, butweweresocloseweweremorelikebrothers.Hewas alsopartoftheLontratribe.HisnamewasProtrios. Hewasthegreatestwarriorofthetribes.Imeanthat’s notveryimpressivegivenhewastheonlywarriorinthe tribes.Allthetribeswerepeacefulwithoneanother. Wehonestlydidn’tknowwhyhedidthat.Iguessitwas reallytheonlychoiceforhim.Hekilledanyplanthe touched.Hewasbottomofhisclass.showednointerest inmagic,wasslowasacrippeledtortoise.Ifwehadstill beeninthewilddays,hewould’vebeenpickedoff already.Luckily,wehavecomeveryfar.Noneedfor huntingbecauseofproteinrichplants.Iftherewasa droughtthemageswouldjustsummonrain.Itwas actuallymyfinalyearoftrainingtobeamage.Meand Protrioswerewalkingthroughthewoods,hesaidI neededabreakfromstudying.Allofasuddenacrackof lightningbrokethroughthetreelinerightinfrontof us.Odd.Theskyhadbeenperfectlyclear.
Thenafigureappearedoutofthesmoke.Itwas bipedalwithsicklygreenskinandgiantclaws.Redeyes flashedwithmalice.Mygutscreamedformetorun.
Iturnedandsprintedbacktothevillage.Igotbackin abouttenminutes.IracedthroughtheVillagesetting offalltheMage’salarms.Iarrived,panting,atWillow theOsprey’sdoor.Shepulleditopenwithhertalons andstuckherfuzzyheadoutthedoor.“HeyOscar! What’sthematter?”
“Attackersonthepath,headedhere,alertthe othertribes.”Ipantedout.Herexpressionturned deadlyserious.Shesnappedherflightgogglesoverher eyesandtookoff.TherestofLontraMageswere alreadywaitingonthepaththatledintothewoods whenIgotthere.Therestofthetribewerewielding torchesorsomeothertypeofmakeshiftweapon. Everyonewasthereexceptfortheyoungorinjured. AlsostrangelyProtrios.Iprayedtoeverygodthathe hadgottenhomesafely.Notimetoworryabouthim nowthough.Allofourheadsturnedasweheardthe rumblingpawstepsoftheothertribescomingtoour aid.Noneoftheirhumanswereeither.Ihopednothing hadhappenedtothem.Theymightbedifferentthenus buttheywerestillbrothersandsisters.Theyallfellinto formationbehindus.Justthen,asicklynoiseof metallicclangsechoedthroughthewoodstowardsus. Fireburstfrommypawsasdiditfromothermages. AboutSevenofthosehorrificcreatureswalkedupina triangleformation.Somedarkfiguresweremoving aroundbehindthembutIcouldn’tseethemclearly. Theleaderofthosemonstersmadeaclickingsound withtheirtongue.Iwasn’tsurewhatthatmeantuntil thedarkfiguressteppedforwards.
GaspscamefromallaroundmeandIwasconfused untilIlookedatthefaceoftheheadone.Itwas Protrios.Thattraitor!Hegrinnedwithmaliceinhis eyes,“Getthem!”Heyelledattheotherhumans.They chargedforwardwithnoregardfortheirprevious friendsandfamily.Thebattlewasbrutal.Manyofmy friendsandfamilydiedrightinfrontofme.Onlyone ofthehumansdiedbutwelostsomanyofourown. EventuallyProtrioscalledthemback.Itwasbad enoughbeingthere,butbeingaleader?Ihadno brotherinhim.HecalledmeforwardandImethimat noman ’sland,snarling.Heleaneddownandbreathed intomyear,“ThePath,Noon.”Hespunonhisheel andwalkedoffwithhisheadheldintheair.Didhe havenoremorseforthefriendshekilled?Didhenot grieveliketherestofus?Iwalkedbackandrelayed whathetoldmetotherestofthetribes.Theynodded solemnly.Thentherestofthetribeswentaround, gatheringtheirdead.Webroughtthemtothe MemoriamPit.MeandalltheotherMageskneltina circlearounditasaneeriesongofgriefwashedoverthe valley.Asitended,wesummonedablazingballoffire intheskyoverthepit.Itgentlyfell,releasingaplume ofsmokeasitreleasedthesoulsofthedeceased.Weall satinanticipationofthesunreachingitsclimax.Asthe heatofthedayburnedthedewofftheground,meand oneMagefromeverytribebeganourwalktothePath. ThePathwasadirtroadthatconnectedallofthetribes tooneanother.ItwaslinedbyflowersandaMagnolia treethathadbeengrowingforcenturies.
Protriosandhisgroupwerealreadywaitingtherewith acontract.MeandtheotherMagesreadoverit.
Ayoungtigressinthebackpipedup,“Iproposean addition.Weknowwecan’ttrustyou,sowemuststrip youofyourmemoriesofussoyoudonotcomebackfor revenge.”AlloftheMagesnodded.Surprisinglythey agreed.So,wealllaidapawonthemanddidit.Itook thememoriesofmyformerbrother.Allofusfledback totheVillagebeforetheycouldtakenoticeofus.
THEPERFECTSTUDYINGSPOT Findingthebestplacetostudyformeisbythelake, whereeverythingissoquietandpeaceful.Ilovetosit downonablanketonthegrasswithmybooksand papersaroundme.Theairiscool,andIfeelanice breezecomingfromthewater,whichhelpsme concentrate.Sometimes,Ilookatthewaterandjustlet mymindrelaxforamomentbeforeIgetbackto studying.Ihearbirdsflyingaroundandseefish swimmingneartheshore.WhenIneedabreak,Ican closemyeyesandlistentothesoundsofnature.I alwayskeepmypensandsnacksnearby,soIdon’t havetoleavemyspot.Itfeelssocalmhere,likethere’s nopressure,justapeacefulspacetowork.Beingnextto thelakereallyhelpsmefocusbetterthanwhenIstudy inside.
Thelakemakestheperfectstudyspotbecausethere arenodistractions.I’mfarfromeverythingthatmight makenoise,likecarsorpeopletalking.AllIhearare thewavesgentlyhittingtheshoreandtherustleoftree branchesinthewind.Ifitgetstoohot,Idipmyfeetin thecoolwaterforaquickbreak,anditfeelsso refreshing.Ibringsomefruitandwaterwithmeto keepmyenergyup,anditmakesstudyingfeelless boring.Theshadefromthetreeskeepsmecool,andI don’tneedtoworryaboutgettingtoohot.EverytimeI lookupfrommywork,Iseethecalmwater,which givesmeabreakandhelpsmerelax. There’snorush here,justapeacefulplacetostudyatmyownpace.I thinkstudyingbythelakehelpsmedobetterbecause it’saplacewhereIcanthinkclearly.
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EverytimeIstudybythelake,IfeellikeIgetmore donethanifIwasinside.It’seasytotake breakswhenIneedtobecauseIknowI’llcomeback feelingmorefocused.Thelakegivesme thespacetothink,andit’snicetotakeinnature wheneverIgetstuckonsomething. Sometimes,Iwalkaroundthelaketostretchmylegs, andthenIsitbackdowntowork.The peacefulnessheremakesmefeellikeIcanhandle anything,nomatterhowhardthehomework is.It’stheperfectplacetofeelcalmandtogetthings doneatthesametime.BythetimeI finish,IfeelproudofmyworkbecauseIwasableto stayfocusedandenjoybeingoutside.The lakemakesstudyingfeeleasier,andIalwayslook forwardtocomingbacktomyspot.It’slike myownspecialplacetodomybestwork. GabrielSt.Pierre
GRANDPA’SPASSDOWN Itwassummer,IwasgettingoffagrimyGreyhound bus.IcouldsmellthefreshairasIsteppedout.It's hardnottonoticewhenyou'vebeenonthesamebus for2days.MybodywasstiffandsoreandIcould barelymovesoletmetellyouwhyI’mhere.Tokeep thestoryshortI'mdyingandIneedtopassonmy nativeAmerican,Lakota,heritagetomygrandson Martin.
Iarrivedatmydaughter’sstreetafterapoliceman gavemearide.Islowlywalkedbyallthehouses, lookingatthestreetnumberstotryandfindherhome. Thenkidsstartedfollowingme,wonderingwhyIwas there,anddogswerebarkingbecausethey'dneverseen mebefore.Ialmostfeltoutofplace.Isawmygrandson MartinrightbeforeIwasabouttogiveup.
MartinlookedsurprisedIwascomingoverbecause he'dneverseenmeoutofthereservation.Igreeted him,“Hau,Taknza,grandchild”butMartindidn’t respond.AsIwalkedin,mygranddaughter,Cheryl, burstoutthedooryelling,“Grandpa!”.Afterthat,I don’trememberwhathappenedbecauseIfaintedafter walkingintheblisteringheatforsolong.ButIdo knowthatIwalkedinandmetmydaughter.
Iwokeupandaskedmydaughter,”Youfoundthe moneyinmyboots?”sheresponded,“Martindid”. ThistimeIwassurprisedthathehelpedmeout.Aftera minuteoftalking,IcalledMartinintothedarkroom tofinallytellhimaboutthemedicinebagthatmy fathergavetome.
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Icouldtellhehateditandwouldneverwanttowearit, buthedidn'thaveachoice;itwastheonlywaythe Lakotaheritagecouldbepasseddown.ThenextdayI decidedtowearanoutfitInormallywouldn'twear,it lookedlikesomething“TV”nativeswouldwear becauseIknewthatMartin'sfriendswouldwantto meetmeandIdidn’twanttoembarrasshimmore.Just asIthoughttheycame,askingmeaboutthefake adventuresMartinhadtoldthemaboutbutIplayed along.
Afterafewdays,ItoldMartintocomeheretogive himthemedicinebag.BeforeIgaveittohimIneeded toexplainwhatitisandgivehimabackstoryabouthow it'ssoimportant.Itoldhimthestoryofmyfather,Iron Shell.Tosummarizethestory,whenmydadwasyoung hetoohadamedicinebag,whenhewenttothe bathhousehefoundabrokenpieceofanironkettle.He didn’tknowwhatitmeantbutheknewitwasimportant soheputitintohismedicinebag.Yearslaterhewas takenfromhomeandtakentoaboardingschoolwhere theytriedtomakehimnormal,hehatedit.
Yearslateratthesameboardingschool,hegotajob asablacksmithtoweldiron,andthat'swhenhe rememberedtheshellofthekettlehefound.He realizedhispurposeinlifewastobeablacksmith.After ItoldMartinthestoryIwasreadytopassdownthe medicinebag,itseemedlikehehadmaturedandwas preparedforit.AsIgaveittoMartinhetriedtoputit onbutItoldhimthathehadtoputaspecialsageinthe bagbeforehecouldwearit. CONTINUED...
AsthedayswentonIgotsickerandsickeruntilIhad togotothehospital,whereIamnow.It’scoldandI’m confusedaboutwhat'sgoingon,butIdoknowthatI’m gladIwasabletosavemyLakotaheritagebypassing downthemedicinebagtoMartin. OakleyCrownover
HOUSE ItallstartedonFebruary8th,1930.Thiswastheday thatmygreat-grandmotherwasborn.Shewasbornin Germanyanddidn'tmovetotheUSuntilafterWorld WarTwo.Whilethereshefacedmanychallenges,My great-grandmotherwastheclosestthingtoanangela personcangettobeingone.Somesayhowdemons possesshumans,anangelpossessedher.Shebrought thewholefamilytogether,shewasourglue.
Themajorchallengetheyfacedwasmoney.They weren'trich.Theyhadahouseandwereabletoeatat night.SoawaytotheUSwasn'teasyandaboattothe USwasalongtripandplainsweren'tmajorlyusedback then.Thiswastheirfirstbumpintheroad.They startedtosaveeverycentandeventuallyhadenoughto flyhere.
Anotherchallengetheyfacedwasthewar. Sometimesshewouldtellmeherpointofviewin GermanyduringWorldWar2.Shetoldmeoncehow scaryitwaswithsoldierswalkingaroundwithguns.She alsoinformedmethescariestthingshewitnessedwasa familygettakenoutoftheirhome.Shesaidshewas playingoutsideandsomesoldiersranintoafamily’s house.Alittlewhilelatershewatchedamom,dad, daughter,andbabygetthrownofftheirporchandput intoatruck.WhenshetoldmethesethingsIhadan ideaofwhytheymoved.Itcouldn'thavebeeneasy beingakidtryingtogotosleepwithgunshotsoutside.
WhenshecametotheUSshemovedtoChicago, somewherearoundthewhitesoxstadium.
Lateron,shewenttocollegeandgraduatedfrom CapitalUniversityinColumbusOhio.Shebecamean elementaryschoolteacherforoverthirtyyears.She lovedteachingsomuch.OneThanksgivingshewould talkabouthowsomeofherstudentsgrewupandwrote herletters.Thatisthekindofkindnessshebroughtto people.Studentsfromelementaryschoolwroteher letters,Iseethatinadifferentwaythansomeothers might.Iseeitasasymbolofherspirit,andawayto rememberher.
Somanypeoplegottomeetherandgotto experienceherkindnessandwelcomingness.She treatedeveryonethesame.I'moneofthefewpeople whogottoknowherasmorethanjustafaceandname. Iamalsoextremelyluckytohaveabirthdaytheday beforehers.ThatissomethingthatIwillalwayshaveto rememberher.ItriedinthelastThanksgivingwehad togethertosoakupasmuchknowledgeabouther,and memoriesasIcould.
ShehadalotofChristmastrees.Shehadanangel treeinherlivingroom,awoodlandcreaturetreeonher porch,andasmalltreewithpicturesofindividual familymembers.Itwasanunspokenrulethatwhoever wasatthetopofthetreewasherfavorite.Iwaslucky enoughtomakeitacoupleoftimes.OnedaywhenI wasaroundeightornineyearsoldIaccidentally knockedoverherfavoriteangelornamentontheangel tree.Iwassoworriedabouthowitwouldmakeherfeel becausethatornamentmeantalottoher.Idon'tknow whereitcamefromorwhyitwasherfavoritebutitwas.
OnceItoldher,shesaid“OhOliver,don'tworry. Anythingcanbefixed.It'sanobject,andIwillalways havethememoriesofit.Nowyouareapartofittoo,so inawaythankyou.”That'sthekindnesssheshowedall ofus.
Inherlonglife,shelearnedtocookextremelywell! Hercookingwasextraordinary.Theturkey,handmashedpotatoesthatmeltedinyourmouth,thesweet ham.ButthebestofthemallwasherSwedish meatballs.Theywereoutofthisworld,itwasthe perfecttexture,theperfectflavor.Icanstilltasteit now.Shebroughteveryonetogether.Wewillnever reallyknowwhetheritwasthefood,thewholefamily beingthereatonce,orjusther.ButIknowthatIwill neverforgetherortheamazingThanksgivingsweall hadasonebiggroup.Iwanttotellherstoryandhow sheimpactedourlivessothatpeoplecanunderstand whysheisstillsuchabigdealtous.Herstoryis inspiringandunique.That'swhyIknowitshouldbe onetoremember.ThankyouMee-maw,Iloveyouand willneverforgetyou.
OliverNichols SaleCreekMiddleSchool 8thGrade,JerryHarwood
MYSTERIOUSHOLEINMYBACKYARD I’veallofasuddenwokeupinthemiddleofthenight. Ihavestraightpanicandfearwithasideoftrembling throughoutmybody.It'smaybe2:30.Igetup,andallI hearisadrill-likesound.Iknowthatnobody’sdrilling throughmyyard,right?Gosh,it’sexcruciatinglyloud. Thisnoiseisstrange,butmainlybecauseIhaven’teven gottenthechancetothinkorstretchandyawn.AllI knowrightnowisthatthesoundiscomingfromthe backyard,rightoutsidemywindow.
I’mnotgonnadaretolookthough.I’mracingdown thestairwaytomyparentsbedroom.Iforgotthatthey areontheirsixthtripoftheyearupnorth.Atthis point,theyleftmaybethreehoursbeforeIwokeup. Wow.NowitreallysinksinthatI’malone.I’musedto itbutalsonotreally.UsuallyIliketobealone,Ijust hatetofeellonely.
IknowIhavetodosomething.Ithinkthatthiscould beanything,butinthebackofmyhead,I’mthinking theworst.Itcouldbealiens,dinosaurscomingback, ultimatelyanything.I’mnotthinkingofthegoodat themoment.Iblamefear.I’mfinallygonnajusttake somedeepbreaths,trytorelax,andhopeIwillbeokay. Iknowmymomanddad’scarwouldbeinthedriveway inmaybefivedaysorso.
AsIopenthedrapesinthelivingroomIseethestars highlightingamassivehole.Icarefullyandslowlywalk upthestepstograbmyphoneandcallauthoritiesbut thenIthinktomyself“Wait.Iwanttoexplore.
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DeepdownIknowthatcuriosityalwayskillsthecat. EitherwayIputthephonedown.
Ireallywanttoseewhathappenedinmybackyard,I shouldbeacourageousgalandgoforit.SoIdo.I’m tryingtoputsomepepinmystepbutI’mstillpretty nervous.Thedoorletsoutaloudcreak…almostasifit werejustasscaredasIwas.Myheartispoundinginmy head.Likeafteryouwakeupinfearfromanightmare. I’mkindofhopingitisone.Ipinchmyself,it’snota nightmare.
Imakeittothehole,takeadeepbreath,andIlook beneathme.Thestarsaren’tbeamingitupthistime. Carefully,Iclimbbackin.inanditfeelslikedirtand grass.Literallynothingisreallyweirdatall,otherthan thefactthereisaholeinmyyardinthemiddleofthe night.Istarttoclimbbackout,thenIsuddenlyfeel somethingfurrytouchmyfoot.Thistookmeby surpriseanditsentshiversdownmyspine.That freakedmeout.
ButIpeekbackdown,andI’mseeingnothing.I quicklyclimbbackin.Ifeltaroundforwhateveritwas thatjusttouchedme.Isurprisinglyheara“meow.”I knowexactlywhat’shappeningtome,I’mjusttiredand hearingthingsandnothingactuallytouchedme.I’m gettingupfromthedirtasIdustmyselfoffandclimb backuptonormalground.Iwalkbackintomyhouse thenIheara“meow”again.I’mfollowingthesound andsuddenly,thedestructioninmyyardwasn'tjusta hole.
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It’sbesttosayIwasmorethanjustshockedtomycore. Thebestwaytodescribethisthingisasaportaltoan alternatedimension.Thiscatisdustparticles.Itgave melittletonoguidance.Thebestwaytodescribeitis thatitisavoidofdarkness.Uh,whatawaytomakeme panic!
Iwanttoaskthecatifitwouldgoaway,soIdo.“Hey, buddy.Doyoumindleaving?”Weirdlyenough,it happilysays,“I’mnotreal,pal.”Oh?Soatalkingcatis withmeIguess?I’mjustgonnaleavethecat.Ikindof feelbad,butit'sliterallyagroupofdustparticlesthat talk.Iwantedtoexplorearoundforalittlebit,but therewasnothingtoexplore.ButforsomereasonI keptongoing,untilIcan’tseetheopeningofthehole anymore.
Atthisrate,there’snosignsoflife.I’msearchingand searchingforawayhomebutIhavenothing;noclues, nosignals.Imissmyfamily;myparents,butIdoubt theymissme.I’mgettingdesperateforsometypeof company.Idon’tevenknowhowlongI’vebeenhere. Myfamilyalwaystakes“businesstrips”.Mydadworks forWallStreetandformymom…Ihavenoclue.They alwaysfightwithme.TheyusuallygetmadwhenIstay inmyroomtoolongbutcantheyevenblameme?I don’twannabeupsetatthemoment,butI'vebeen drasticallydepressedlately.IfI’mbeinghonest,partof mewantstostaystuckinthishole.Iwasdiggingmyself deeper.
IthinkI’mgoingtokeepgoingonoptimistically, whichwillbehard.
HopefullyI’llspotdifferencesinanything,liketheair. I’mprettymuchjustfloatingnow.Howfun.AsIgo further,thechillierandmorehumiditfelt.Wasthis normal?Obviously,itwasn’t.Ifeelsodrainedandtired atthispoint.Iamfloatinginwhatfeelslikeanendless blackroom.Insteadofgoingforwardwiththis,I’m gonnagobackwards.
FromwhereI’mbeginning,Ican’tseemuchlight,but IknewIwasn’tblind.I’msquintingandhopingtofind anylightatall.Aftermakingnoprogress,Istartto backfloat,exceptI’mnotinwater.I’mwithmyown thoughtsbeforeImanagetofindalittleglimpseof light,butstillhavenoideawhereIam.Iamdrowning insomuchregretatthemoment.WhywouldIdothis tomyselfandwhyintheworldwouldIleavethecat?
“Pleasesomeonehelpme!”But,I’massumingnoone heardathing.I’mkindofscaredofmyselfbecauseI justscreamedintoavoidofnothing-ness.ThisfearI’m feelingisencouragingmetokeepgoingback.SoIdo.
WhileI’monmysidequestback,I’mjusttryingto lookforanything,butI’minavoidofemptiness,butI knowsomewheretherehastobeawayout.Atthisrate, sinceI’msobored,Itseemsasifit’sbeenamonthsince I’veseenmybed,gotsleep,ate,orhadany entertainment.NowonderI’msomiserable.I’m thinkingwithmyeyesshut.I’mthinkingofeverything Iknowandhaveexperienced.I’mlookingthroughmy eyelidsasifthey’reapairofdrapesoverawindowwhen Iseesomebrightness.Likeastreetlighttypeof brightness.
I’mputtingmyhandstogetherasIpraytoGodthat I’vefoundmywayhome.BeforemyeyesopenIsay “ amen ”andtakeadeepbreath.Myeyesopened.Idrew thedrapesopen.AndallIseeismyhouse.
“Ihavesomuchtolookforwardto.”Ithinktomyself beforeIexitwhateverI’vegottenmyselfinto.Ihavea campingtripwithmyfriendsandIhavecheerleading,I haveschool,andmyparents,eventhoughI'mnottoo excitedforthem.Istartedtoseemywayoutofthis void.AllI’mcapableofislaughing.I’mreally ponderinghowImanagedtogetinthatsituation.
Islowlyplacealightsteponthesoftgrassofmy backyard.IexhaleasIsluggishlywalk.Imakemyway intomybackyarddoortomyhouseandIcloseitafter me.AfterIshutitbehindme,Islidemyselfdownand thoughtsstartpouring.Ithinktomyselfforafew minutes.ThenIdecidedthatIwanttostartsleeping.I yawnasIlockthedoors.ThenIclimbupthestairs slowly.IseemybedandIletoutajoyfulscream.Ileap intoitandrubmyfeettogetherasIgetbundledup. Eventhoughbythistimeitwasalmostfourinthe morning,IhopeIsleepbetterknowingIfoundthe lightattheendofthetunnel.
BrooklynSpeller
SaleCreekMiddleSchool 8thGrade,JerryHarwood
WHYAMINOTPERFECT,WHYME? I’msittingonthemarooncushion,whileI nervouslyplayedwithmyhandswhileIlookedatthe therapist.Thisisn’tthefirsttherapistIhavebeento,no oneeverseemstostick.Iwaitedforhertostartthe conversation,Ipinchedatmyskin,mykneebouncing upanddowninanunsteadymotion.
“SoyournameisSeriaBlack,youare16yearsold, amIcorrect?”Sheaskedlookingupfromthefileshe heldinherhands.
“Yes,thatiscorrect,”Isaid,makinglittleeye contact.
“Heyit’sokaytobenervous,itiscompletely normal.Thiswillbeasafeplaceforyou.Mynameis Dr.Honey,Ihopewecanreachapointwhereweare comfortablewitheachother,Ms.Seria”Iwatchedas shetalkedwithherkindwords.Iappreciatedtheact butitdidnothingtohelp.
“IhopesoaswellDr.Honey,thisisnotmyfirst timeattherapy.Iknowwhatyouwouldlikemetoopen upandtalkabout.Iamwillingtoopenupandtellyou howIamfeelingbutthisisacyclethatwillalways repeat.”Isaid,finallymakingeyecontactwithher.
“Iunderstand,butIhopewecanfixthat.Iwantto seeyougetbetter,andfindawaytoleavethisallbehind you.Iknowthatisahardthingtosaytoyou.Thiswill getbetter,Ipromise”Thereitisthesamewordsthat holdnomeaninginthefoundation.
Thiswasanunbearabletherapysession,Isatthe wholetime,Iwaszonedout,andwasn’tlisteningtoher atall.Whatshesaiddidn’tmattertomeatall.Finally,I heardthewordsIwaitedfor.
“Ohwell,itlookslikeourtimeisupnowMs.Seria. Ihopetoseeyouagain.”
“Itwasnicemeetingyou,Dr.Honey,”IsaidasI stoodup,headingtowardsthedoor.
Iwassohappytogetoutofthatoffice.Iwalkedto mycar,myshakyhandsunlockingthecardoor.Itwas mid-fall,andtheairwasgrowingcold.Igotinmycar, takingamomenttocooldownfromthesession.I placedmypursebesidemeinthepassengerseat.Iput onmyseatbeltwhilepreparingtostartmycar.I startedmycar,theengineroaring,andtheairstartedto plowwarmaironmyface.Istartedmydrivehome,well tomyaunt'shouse.
Myaunt’snameisKatie,sheis27.Shekindlytook meinaftermymotherdied,andmyfatherdisowned meat12.Thatreasonwas,hethoughtIwasachildof anaffair.Imadeitbacktothesmallhouseinthetown nearthecity.Iparkedmycarundermyfavoritetree.It wastheprettiesttree,KatiesaidIremindedherofthe tree.Thewayitisblossomingandalwayssocheerful, eventhoughithasadarkpast.
ImakemywayinsidethehousegreetingKatie.
“HeyKatie,Iambackfrommyuselesstherapy sessions,”Isaidkickingoffmyshoesandleavingthem atthefrontdoor
“TheyarenotuselessSeria.”Iheardheryellfrom thekitchenandIlaughedtomyselfquietly.
“HeyKatie,Iamgonnagotakeabath.Justtorelax, youknow?”IsaidasIlaidmypursedown.Heading towardsthestairs.
“Okayhavefun,don’tdrown!”Iheardhergiggle andIlaughedatherjoke,asIhikedupthestairs.
Iwalkintothebathroomflickingonthelight, carefullyclosingthedoorbehindme.Istareatmy reflection.Myblackwavyhairwasdrapedovermy heavyshoulders,andmyblueeyesweretheonesthat remindedmeofmymother.Istartedthewater, watchingthesteamtakeoverthemirror,washingaway myreflection.
Itookoffmyclothesandthescarsleftfrombehind mademecringeasIstaredatmynakedbody.Istaredat thewhitescarslinesacrossmyleftwrist.Isteppedinto thesteamingwater,thetouchconsumingmybody.The waterisuncomfortablebutinvitingatthesametime. Theredspotsmarkedmybody,Isankintothewater.I letmybodygeteatenbythebodyofliquid.Iclosedmy eyes,andIlostcontrolofmymind.
IclosedmyeyesandascarIthoughtwasclosed,was reopened.MyeyessnapopenandIamstandingwith theknifemymotherisgrabbingatherneck.Myhands trembleasIwatchmymothergaspforair,herhands becomingbloody.Shecollapsestothegroundwitha heavythud.Ifelltomyknees,theknifehittingthe groundwitharattle.Thebloodgushingfrommy mother'sneck,hitsmykneesasIwatchedmymother dieatmyhands.Inmyhands,IgrabbedtheknifeandI stabbedherseveraltimesinthechestasIsobbed.I staredatmyhands,coveredinmyownmother'sblood.
IsitupandIgaspforair,myfacesoakedwithwater, Igrabmywrist.ItoldmyselfIwasokaynow.That happened2yearsago,wewereondrugs.Shepushed youtoofarthatnight.IknowwhatItoldmyselfwasa lie.MymotherisdeadandItismyfault.
Herbloodisonmyhands.Ihuggedmykneestomychest andIsobbed.Mymakeuprandownthesidesofmy face.Thebloodystainscoveredmybody,eatingmewhole.I amjustapaintingwithauselesscanvas.
Igotoutofthetubwrappingatowelaroundmy body,notdaringtolookintothemirror.Iwalked acrossthehalltomybedroom.Iquietlyclosedthe door,restingmybackonthedoor,andtakingadeep breath.Igrabbedtheclothesfromthebed,slipping themon.Myhairdrippedonthefloorbeneathme. Thetickoftheclockmatchesthewaterdropsperfectly. Isatdown,takingoutmydiarywriting.
“WhyamInotperfect,whyme?”Iclosedthebook withaloudSlam. Ifellbackonmybed,theblackconsumingme.Iwas fallingthroughtheair,mymemoriestorturingme.I feltrestless,Iheardaknockatmydoor.Ijerkedupand sighed,myheartracingandmycheeksonfire.
“Heydinnerisdone,bug.”IheardKatiesweetly fromtheothersideofthedoor.
“Alright,I'mcoming,”Isaid,slippingonmy slippersandheadingtowardsthedoor.
KatieandIwalkeddownthestairstogether.Iknow KatieismyauntbutIhavealwaysseenhermorelikea sister.Ihelpedhergettheplatestosetthetableforthe twoofus.
“Sowhatdidyoumaketoday,Kats?”IaskedasI washedmyhandsinthesink.
“Imadesomeporkchopswithmashedpotatoesand corn.”Shesaidwithaproudsmileonherface,she lovedcookingforpeople.
“Thatsoundsamazing,Kats.Iamsoproudofyou bytheway.”IsaidasIwalkedovertohugher.
“Thanks,bug,Iappreciatethat.”Herarmswrapped aroundme,andIfeltsafeandlovedinherarms. Iletgoofthehug,pullingbackfromKatie.I smiledbeforegrabbingtheplatesIsetdownonthe table,andhandingonetoKatie.KatieandIgetour foodtakingourseatsatthewoodentablewithaflower tablecover.KatieandItookabiteofourfood.Itwas reallygood.
“Kats,thisisgood.Iappreciateyoucookingallthe time.”Isaidsmiling
“Thankyou,Bug.Ihopeyouenjoyyourfood.”She saidwiththebiggestsmileever.
“Ialwaysdo,”Isaidwithasmile,Katswastheonly personIwastruearound.KatsmademefeellikeI couldbemyself.
Itis9:45andIhavetogotosleepsoon,Ihave schoolthenextmorning.Ilayinmybed,Ihavethe coverspulledovermyhead.Iamsurroundedby darknessandtherestlessfeelingofinsomnia.Irolled andtossedovercountlesstimes.Finally,Ifeltthe steadinessofmyheartasIdriftedasleep.Ilooked around,Ifeltaloneandscared,mybodywasshrinking fromachillywind.Ilookedallaroundme,everything wasoutofplace,andtherewasbrokenglass,andtrash everywhere.Isinkfullofdishes,andyetanotheroneof myhorriblenightmares.
Isawmyfatherwithabeerinhishands,Iwatched myyoungerselfrunuptohimwithalltheexcitement, justforittobecrushedintopieces.Iwatchedasmy youthfulbodywasthrowntothegroundbymyown father'shands.Isawthetearsofsadnessmixedwiththe overwhelmingfeelingofconfusion. CONTINUED...
Icriedoutfeelingmyarminafierypain,Istaredup atmyfather,withaheart-brokenlook.
“Daddy,thathurt.Pleasehelpme,makeitstop hurting.”Icriedreachingoutforhiscomfortinghand. Heslappeditaway.
“Leavemealone,youuselesschild.I’mnoteven sureyoumine.”HesaidandIwatchedashiseyesiced over.
“Daddy,ofcourse,I’myourdaughter.Idon’t understandwhyyou’rebeingsohurtfulrightnow.”I said,Iwatchedmyyoungerselfgothroughthispain, notknowingwhythiswashappening,toher,tome.
“Iamnotyour“Daddy”,sostopcallingmethat.I amnotyourfatheranymore.”Heslappedmehard acrosstheface,thesoundofhisfleshhittingmycheek givingwaytoaloudpainfulcrackinthestillair.
IcriedoutasIwasslapped,Ifelltothegroundwith myarminagonizingpain.Myfatherlaughed,myfather laughedatme,layingonthegroundcryingandstaringupat himwithahurtlookashewalkedoutofthehouse,leaving meIlayhelplessinmysadnessandshame.
IjerkedmyselfupandIwassweatingheavily.My heartisracingwiththefearofthatdeadmemoryI dreadedtoeverremember.Ihuggedmykneestomy chest,tryingtocalmmyselfdown.Iamokaynow,heis gonenow.IlookinthemirrorandIseethesamelittle girl,theonewhowasbeaten,andabusedforyears,bythe oneswhoweresupposedtoloveher.Butsomedreams don’tcometrue.
VadaTurner SaleCreekMiddleSchool 8thGrade,JerryHarwood
Idesiretobeexclusivelyalone.Idonotlongfor anythingquitelikethat.IfIwassimplyalonewould everythingbeeasier?Perhapsleavingbehindthisprison disguisedasahomeperhapsIwillfullyrealisemyself.
Idon'tdesirethewarmthoffamily.AllIwantismy lonelinesstoleaveeverythingbehindandmoveontonot lookbackandbefree.
IlongforsolidarityandIdesirenothingmore.
Isitwrong?I'vespentwhathasfeltlikeeonslivingand helpingmyfamily.Iknowthattheycare,howeverI don't.IholdlittleregardforpeopleI'vespentsuchtime with.
Perhapsthereasonforthisfeelingistheslowyetsteady degradationoftimemorphingtheshapeofseveral peopletillthepointwheretheysimplycan'tfittogether.
Butcouldsolidaritybejustasbad?
Butthatiswhyitissuchanenthrallingconceptthe powerofsolidaritylieswithintheforceofitsbeing allowingonetopushthroughtheirfaultslooking towardsafuturethattheyaloneseeknotinfluencedby anyoutsideparty.
MaybeIshouldchangemymind?Idesiretobealonebut Ihaveadeepsolemnfeelingthatthiswon'tbetheright move.
ShouldIrunorshouldIstayinaheavybutsafeand warmcageorallowmyselftobecarriedbytheharshand coldfreewinds?
Insafetythereiscontrol,infreedomthereisdanger.IfI weretoleaveIwouldbemyownconductoronatrainI donotknowhowtocontrol.
IfIweretostayIwouldbeinasafeinawarmlively prisonofwhichI'mnowarden.
Leaveorstay
PerhapsBoth?
EvenwhenItrytoescapeistillcannotescapethefinal prisonthelasthurdlethefinalwallMymindIlimit myselftotheseoptions:TogetherorAlone,Trappedor Free.
IknowthatthiscagehasalwaysbeenopenandonlyI havesettheserestrictions.Ihaveboththelockandthe key.
SoThisiswhatIhavedecidedtodo:Tocomebackto thisgildedcagewhenIpleaseandallowthewindsto carrymewherevertheymight.Takingshelterbefore settingoutonthenextjourneyKnowingthatIwillnever everbe. Alone.
Inspiredbythepoem“APrayerforLovingSorrow”by FrancisJammes
QuentinCarter EastHamiltonMiddleSchool 8thGrade,MarkPace
Ifyouknowenoughaboutthings,theywon’thappento you.
MyentirechildhoodIthoughtthat.IfIreadabout them,theywouldn’thappen.SoIreadandread, desperateforinformationandaconfirmationthatgood thingswereaheadofme.Iwasaself-assuredchild,in myintelligence,myhappiness,myfriendships.
Untilmyparentsbecametheirownpeople.They startedtoslipawayfromeachother,fromus.I desperatelysoughtanescape,somethingtotakeme fromthisharshrealityIcouldn’tbelievewasreal.
Slowly,Ibegantolosemyself.Everybodyhadtheir something,thatthingthatdrovethem,thatfueledthem tobewhotheywere.Ihadnothing.AsIwatchedmy familyfallapart,mysenseofself-identitybegantoslip away.IfoundmyselfnotknowingwhoIwas,whatI wantedtodo,thoughIalwayshadbefore.I’dalways knownexactlywhoIwantedtobe.Everythingwas meticulouslyplanned,untilasinglethingmanagedto ripplethewatersofmyperfectlife.
Ibegantofeeloutofplace.Ididn’tknowwhereI belonged,IjustknewIwantedtobelong.
I’dhadthisfeelingeversinceIwasyoung.Thatmylife wassogood,toogood.Somethinghadtohappen. Somethinghadtodisruptit.Anddisruptititdid.But afterall,whowasItoaskformore?
OthersweresufferinginwaysI’dneverevenbeableto comprehend,yetthisunbearablepainseemedtoclutch atmeeverychanceitgot.
Sometimes,I’ddomybesttodistractmyself.Ifyou don’tthinkaboutit,itdidn’thappen.I’dtellmyself that,overandover.Thosetimes,thepainwouldfeelso light,likeawhisperinthebackofmymind.Itwould alwaysbethere,butsometimesitslippedfromits loomingpresenceoverme.Andinthosemoments,I couldfinallybreathe.Everythingdidn’tfeelsoheavy.
Andyet,thosesecondsofblisswouldvanishsoquickly andtheweightofdecisionsthatweren’tminewould returntomyshoulders.
IfeltstuckinaplaceIhadoncecalledhome,aplace oncesafe,butnowareminderofeverythingthatled metothebrokenpersonIwas.
Ineededsuccess.Ineededapproval.Ineeded validation.Ineededcomfort.Ineededlove.
Andeverytime,Ididn’tgetwhatIneeded.Iquickly becameindependent.Ibegantoteachmyselfhowto notdependonothersanymore.Ilostmyquickability totrust,whichhadalwaysbeensoeasybefore.
Igainedanewperspective,andmaybethatwasjust whatIneeded.
MyperfectfutureI’dwishedforwouldn’tturnoutthe wayI’dalwaysplanned,butwasthatforthebetter?I’d neverknow;I’dalwaysbestuckonthewhatif’s.
Itwasnolonger“MomandDad,”itwas“Mom”and “Dad.” Iwassplit.
LilyEckert
EastHamiltonMiddleSchool
8thGrade,MarkPace
Stepone:shootit butnotjustanywhere,youneed topracticefirst;findtheirweakspot.Greedisnaturalin thehumanexperience.It’srootedinme,myparents, myfriend.Itwasrootedineveryonearoundmewhen theyfoundouthowquicklyIwasabletogivemylife. GreedgrewinthehouseIwasborninwhenmyparents sawhowquicklyIpickedupmathproblemsorread booksatthefifth-gradelevel.Whenpeoplearoundyou realizeyou’reaphoenix;acreaturewhocanneverdie oneofakind theydon'tcareabouthowmanytimes theyshootyou.Afterall,themostbeautifulthingabout aphoenixishowtheyformfromtheirashes,neverhow theyflyorsoar.
Idon’trememberatimewhenIwasproudofmy achievements IcantellyouwhenIwasrelieved. WhereIwasrelievedIgotfirstplaceinatournament, orwhenIgotanAonmymathtest.Mywholelifehas beenmeholdingmybreath,scaredofhowIwouldlive uptotheideaofhowpeoplewantedmetobe.Every accomplishmentonlyfeltrewardingbecauseIthenhad thepermissiontobreathe.Iwasalwaysgood,butIwas nevergreat.Teacherscomplimentedmeonmywork becausetheyknewIwashardonmyself,butitwasnever becausetheytrulylikedwhatIdid.Whendiditbecome sohardtobegood?ApartofmewishesthatIwasa failuresinceIwasborn.Insteadofthislife,Iwouldfail myclasses,andneversucceedinanything,sonoone wouldexpectanythingoutofme,andIwouldn'texpect anythingoutofmyself.Therewouldn’thavebeenan ideaIwouldhavehadtoliveuptobecausemyparents wouldneverhavehadtocomeupwithone. CONTINUED...
HOWTOKILLAPHOENIX
Steptwo:realizethatnomatterhowmanytimes youshootthephoenix,italwayscomesback.Whenyou showpeoplehowfastyoucantakeablow,theyexpect youtorisequickereachtime.Iwonderifmylifeis tryingtoconvincepeopleIwasgoodenoughortrying toconvincepeoplethatIwasn’tafailure.“Isthere anythingyoudoforyourself?”peoplewouldask.No. EverythingIdoisforsomebiggerplan.EverythingI doisforschoolorthepeoplearoundme.Ido everythingatsuchintensitythatI’veforgottenwhatit feltlikejusttostop.I’msousedtohowtheywouldall burnmealivejustsothattheycouldshowtheworld howIwouldshine.I'msousedtothatstingingpain— it’sbecomeaddicting.
Sometimesmostofyourlifeisspentdoingthings forothers;convincingothersyouareworthyenough thatyouforgetwhyyou’reevenhereinthefirstplace.If youtookawayeverythingIdo,Iwouldn’tevenknow whoIam.Soonenoughyourgreatbecomestheirgood enough,whichturnsintomediocre,whichturnsinto thebareminimum,andatonepointyouareapenguin expectedtofly.Youkeeptakingtheshotsoverandover becauseyou’vebeeninthatsituationbeforeandyou wereabletoriseagainandagain,butthatnevermadeit lesspainful;gettingusedtothefeelingofbullets grazingyourskinbecomesnormal.MywholelifeIam onfire.Iamburningtryingtoshowtheworld,everyone —mymom,mydad,mycousins,myfriends,my teachershowunstoppableIam.Irefusetobeseenasa joke,butitfeelslikeI'mconstantlybeggingonmy knees,beggingtobelookedatforonce. CONTINUED...
Beggingforone“I’mproudofyou”thatactuallyfeels real beggingforsomethingthatdoesn’texist. Suddenly,you’rebackinfifthgradewherestudentsare makingfunofyoubecauseyouhavealisp.Suddenly you ’rebackinthirdgradeandyouaren’tgoodenough togainafriend.Suddenly,yourealizeitisnotjustyour lovedoneswhoaredrivingthisinsanityofperfection, butfearaswell.
Stepthree:watchcarefully.Noticehowthephoenix neverforms,butyouforgettonoticesomething.A phoenixwon’tformunlessgivenareasontoformagain. Onceyouteachittheconsequencesofbecoming brightereverytimeitrises,onedayit’lljuststop.You didn’tjustdestroythephoenix itdestroyeditself.I’ll neverforgetthedaymyteacherpulledmeasideandtold me“Youusedtobesuchagoodstudent.What happened?”.Soonenoughyourteacherswillseethefire inyoureyesdie.Yourscienceteacherasksifyouneed anyhelpbecauseshe’sworriedthatthere’stoomuch goingoninyourhead.Yourmathteachernoticesyou looktiredallthetimeandasksifyou’regettingenough sleep.Itscaresyou,soyouburnyourselfbrighterand brighter.Youdon’tevenhavetobeaskedanymore.
Atfirst,everyonewashappy.Everyonewasinawe, butthenitgotoutofcontrol.Itisanaddiction.And nowpeoplearetellingyoutostoplightingyourselfon firejusttobeseenbysomeone,butthosearethesame peoplewhoputtheideainyouthatyouhadtoburn yourselftobenoticed. Onceyouburnhardenough, youarenothingbutashes.Youarenothingbut somethingpeoplecanwalkonwhenevertheyplease. CONTINUED...
Thethingaboutashesisthattheyarenotjustone thing.Theyaretinypiecesthatfloatawaybyjustone gustofwind.Partsofyourselffloataway.Ifyoutried hardenough,maybeyoucouldputthoseashestogether andbecomewholeagain.Butyoucan’t.Afterall,if you ’retreatedlikeyou’renothuman,whatisthepoint ofeventryingtobecomeoneagain?
PorterTowe
EastHamiltonMiddleSchool
8thGrade,MarkPace
EIGHTHGRADE POETRY EXHALE Beforeyouthinkthatallislost
Beforeyourloveseemstoexhaust
Takeamoment,thinkawhile
Ofthingstofightthisfruitlesstrial. Exhale,inhale
Again.
Fillyourheadwithjoyfulthoughts
Daysbytheseaandnicelongwalks
Howwordsareatyourfingertips
Howoceansspillfromyourverylips. Exhale,inhale.
Again.
Feelyourheartbeat,howblessedareyou! Adivinegifttobebornanew. 1-2,1-2.
Exhale,Inhale.
Again.
Watchingshadowsdancingby, Thinkingnothing,Iaskyou,“why?”
Giftedwithablessedform
Yetlonelinessisourlives’norm. Exhale,inhale. Again.
SoIsaytoyou,dearone, “Yourlove’snotlost.Yourlove’snotdone.”
Foryouarethemostpreciousthing
Letyourthoughtssoar,yourhearttakewing. Exhale,inhale.
AftonForsythe
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 8thGrade,JasonWilliams
MYWILLOWTREE Willowshowbeautiful. TheydanceintheSundaywind. Isitintheshadeofthewillow. Ohhowlovelyitwould'vebeen. Theraincameandpoureddown. Itwasthemostamazingsound. Isatinsideandkeptquiet. Whiletherainoutsidewasalmostsilent. Boom,crashthelightningshouted. Ijustsatinsideandpouted. ThenIsawitgo. Itfelldownjustlikesnow. Thelimbscrushedandcracked. Thelongflowyleaveslayflat. Astherainfadedaway. Afrowncameuponmyface. Ohmybelovedwillow. Whydidyouhavetogo?
SmithDenis SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 8thGrade,JasonWilliams
LEAF. Floatinginthebreeze
Goingwhereveryoucan
Notknowingwhattodoorwhatyouneed, Noreasonforaplan
Eventstakingplaceallaround Yoursimplyexistingandnothingelse Blendinginwiththebackground Happytofloat,nevertheless
Thesunisbrightandshining
Thebirdsaresingingcheerfully Viewsonlifearerealigning Floatingwiththewindblissfully Crunch
Walkedoverandsteppedon Ignoredineveryaspect
Thesunstillshinesupon, Oceansandwatersthelightreflects
Butattheendofthedayi'mstillaleaf Floatingandflyinginthebreeze.
EdieSmallwood
EastHamiltonMiddleSchool 8thGrade,MarkPace
IFONLY Ifonlythingswerenotasweknowit. ifonlywewerehappyandknewhowtoshowit. Ifonlyeverychildhadasmilenotafrown. Ifonlytheworldcouldbeturnedupsidedown. IfonlywhenItalkedthepeoplewouldlisten. Ifonlytheworldwouldn'trunlikeaheadlesschicken. Ifonlywehadabitmorelaughter.
Ifonlywewouldactlikeusandnotworryaboutitafter. Ifonlyweweremorecarefulnottojudge. Ifonlywhenwewereknockeddowntotheverybottom wewouldn'tbudge.
Ifonlytherewouldbenosadnessorfear. Ifonlynooneshedonesingleplopofatear. Ifonlywecouldtrustandnothavetodoubt. If only we could share our thoughts and not have to shout.
Ifonlyeverypersonwaslovedandadored. Ifonlytheworldcouldhavepeaceandnowar. Ifonlywedidn'talwayshavetoaskwhy. Ifonlywehadwingsandknewhowtofly. Ifonlywecouldlistentothewhisperedwordsofthe wind.
Ifonlywedidn'thavetoworryaboutthetimewehave tospend.
Ifonlyourcountrywaslikebirdsofafeather If only we would stop our polluting and save our weather
Ifonlywedidntletmemoriesrunaway. Ifonlywhenpeopletaughtuswewouldlistenandstay.
Ifonlywecouldkeepasecretandnotcrack. If only we could be truthful to our friends and have eachother'sback.
Ifonlyallpeoplehadaroofovertheirhead. Ifonlyeverypersonhadapillowandabed.
IfonlyIcouldmakeadifferencewithoneactionthat's small.
Ifonlyinsteadofwishingforthesethingsweactually triedtochangethemall.
CAGED Can'tgetoutIamenclosed, Likemythoughts nooneknows. IfeellikeIamcaged. likeIamtrappedonani-spypage. Aren'tyougoingtoaskwhy WhyIamscaredandrefusetofly?
Like a bird with clipped wings, I tremble at the thought,sortingtowardsnewthings. Garish,likeaneonnightmare,brightandbold, Theywon’tletmehidethere,yourgripisuncontrolled. Asifthespotlightseeksme,withaglaresobright, Relentlessandunyielding,itexposesmyfright. Everythingishiddeninme Iwillnotletthemsee IfIdo, itisasifIamgivingthemthekey toseedeepdown,whatisinsideofme Don'tletthemin Don'tletthemsee
ThentheywillknowwhyIamnotfree ForIamcagedandcan'tfly ForonlyinmydreamswillIgetsosoarthroughthe sky
MackenzieBrooksLambert SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 8thGrade,JasonWilliams
WILLOW Leaves,blowinginthewind, Theywillneverend. Astheyswayandsway, Thelittlebirdscomeandgoaway.
Green,glowinginthesun, Dancingandhavingsomuchfun.
Astheyswayandsway, Thelittlebugscomeandgoaway.
Branchesdroopingdownway,waylow, Theysitandwatchasthewatersflow. Astheyswayandsway, Thelittlesquirrelscomeandgoaway.
Brown,justsothinandlight, Theyalwaysshineohsobright. Astheyswayandsway, Thelittlesuncomesandgoesaway.
LaylaMaggio SaleCreekMiddleSchool 8thGrade,JerryHarwood
JUSTBEUS Ontheplayground,runningandlaughing
Intheartclassroomtalkingandcrafting
Asthegradesflowbylikeasailorboat
There'ssomethinginherdiaryshewrote. Aswegrow,ourheadsstartspinning
Andstartsoundinglikeacrow. Thedistantvoices,themumbling
Thepast,thepresent. Peoplelookatmeanditcouldcomeoff Quitetroubling.
Theysaygetoutmore
Theysaydoyourchores. Theysaycleanyourroom
Andtheysaysweepthatupwithabroom!!
IsitreallyALLtrue?
I’mshakingmyleg
Givemespace,Ibeg. Thisfeelinginmyheart, Almostlikeitgotkickedwithaleg
Staringatthewall
Listeningtothesesongs
Ithonestlyfeelssortofwrong. Wegrowup,morepeopletellustoshutup
Ourheartsache,itfeelsruff. Whycan'tpeoplehavetrust? Whycan'twejustbeus?
JordynSneed
SaleCreekMiddleSchool
8thGrade,JerryHarwood
SPRITE Theclearshimmer, Howthebubblespop, Thelightreflects,anotherdayisdown Mysorrowdrowns, Inthebubblylemon-limemound.
Istareinawe, Asitfizzesinasnakesound. Pouringinacup, Anewflavorisfound! Christmashascome,andspritecranberryisintown.
Isipawaymysorrowsandregrets, Acomfortinmymouth,andinmychest.
Thewarmbubblyfeeling,Icannotcomprehend, Thefeelingofmybody,slowlydescends.
Whatisthisfeeling? Iwouldask, Thefeelingofsatisfaction, Slowlycomestoanend.
AsItakethefinalsip,Igoforanother, Ifreeze,guiltandpleasuremixedwithone-another. Feardashesacrossmyexpression, Myspriteisgone,nomoretaste,nomoretemptation.
ZoeyRozell BrownMiddleSchool 8thGrade,LaycicaHarjes
THEBEACH Atthebeach,thewavesarecrashing. Againsttherocks,theyaresmashing.
Thewindisblowingthroughmyhair AsIrunaroundwithoutacare.
Thesandiscrunchingbetweenmytoes AsIwatchtheoceanglow.
IwishIcouldseetheoceaneveryday ItiswhereIwouldliketostay.
AnnaTorchick HilgerHigherLearning 8thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
CAMPING Underaskyofbrightstars
Wesetourcamperup,ourhomeawayfromcars.
Thecracklingfiresingsawarmingtune Whileshadowsdanceunderthesilvermoon.
Whispersoftheforest,softandslow Therustleoftheleaves,agentleflow.
Weshareourtales,ourlaughterinthenight
Witheverycracklefromthefiretoflight.
Morningdewuponthegrasssobright
Thesunpeeksoverthehills,asagoldensight. Innature’sarms,wefindourheartsrelieved Aworldofwonder,inwhichisbelieved.
GabrielSt.Pierre HilgerHigherLearning 8thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
Thestandard
Thestandardistanbutfairskin, Thestandardisslimbutstillsomecurves, Thestandardiswavesnotcoils, Thestandardistallbutnottoooverpowering. Thestandard.
Iam, Iamfairbutnot“enough” Iamcurvybutinthe“wrongplaces” Iamagirlwithnatural“crazycurls” Iamover6feetbutnotinthe“feminineway” Iam.
Thereality, Therealityisthatthe“standard”isaimage,falsenative, afantasy,madebywhitemendepictofwomenofcolor, Therealityisthatthenaturalfeatureare beautifulnomatterthe“standard”, Therealityisthe“standard”istheexactoppositeofwhat iswrittenintomyDNA, TherealityisthatIam, Pacifica,“White”,andBlackwomenofcolor, Whohashaslusciouscoilsandcurls, Whoisover6feet, Whohascurvesallover, Whohaslightbrownskin.
TheRealityisthatIamnottheStandard.
TeaganMcClure
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 8thGrade,MaryLeDoux
ANUNINTERRUPTEDPOEMREADING
IstepfootonMars, Thefirstpersontoeverdoso. ThecinnaIsthisinthefuture? Yes,thisdoestakeplaceinthefuture. Anyways,thecinnamonwindsblowacrosstheredlandscape Andthereisastrangeyetcomfortingsilence ThatremindsmethThisisboring!Iwanttohearthegoodpartalready! I’mgettingtoit,okay? Thereisastrangeyetcomfortingsilence
ThatremindsmeofthoselongsummernightsbackonEarth Justsittingonthefrontporch Sippingatallglassoflemonade. Canwehavesomelemonadeafterthis? Fine.Butwe’llhavetogotothestore. Iseethousandsofstars Twinklinginthetwilightsky Andoutfromarock Comesalittlegreenalien. YES!ILOVEALIENS!LET’SGO! Iknowyouhaveanunhealthyobsessionwithaliens. HaveyouevereventhoughtabouthowmuchIwanttosharemypoem? Justletmefinishit. Youknow,what’seventhepoint? You’rejustgoingtokeepinterruptingme. Canwehavethelemonadenow? Iguess. BiancaDavenport
FORUS Crossedoceansleavingeverything. Camewithoutanything,gaveuseverything. Withlessthana50dollarbillintheirpockets.
Nowtheirjourneyhadtaughtmetostandtallandnot lookdown.
Myfatherworkedbeforesunriseandaftersunset. Mymotherhelpingherfatherprovidefor4. Justforustohaveeduction,opportunities,andafuture. Theyhaddreamstheycouldn’tachievejustforusto achieveours.
Theybuiltandusedthesteps, Thenbuiltaslideforustoslidedown. Theyhadmadeiteasierforussowedidn'thaveithard likethem.
NowIthankthemforputtingusfirst.
RuchikaPatel
EastHamiltonMiddleSchool 8thGrade,MarkPace
ODETOSKIS.ANDSKIING.WHICH COULDN’TBEPOSSIBLEWITHOUTSKIS.
Thesnugboots
Aresecureonmyfeet
AsIcarryyououtintothebrightsunnyday
Andsetyoudowninthesnowwhereyourneoncolors gleaminthesunwith excitement
Istickmypolesintothefreshwhitepowderforbalance And *Click* There’sone
*Click* Andtheother
Andnowwearereadytoflyacrossthefrostyslopes Ofthemajesticmountain
Butfirstwemustridetothetop
Wehoponthechairliftand Ittakesforeveruntilwearethere
Thenweslide
Offthechair
Awayfromthelift
Tofreshpowder
Weslidetotheslopewiththebestview-then D O W N
Wego
Dashingthroughthesnow
Thefresh Frigidair
Whipspast
Exhilaration
Idecidetoswerveintothegladesoftrees
Wherethefreshpowderlies
Untouchedbyhumans
Untilwegowhizzingthroughit
Thetwistsandturns Andthesilence. Exceptforthesoftsoundofsnowswishingagainstyou. Iamabird.Butyouaremywings. Pure. Unaltered. Bliss. Iliveforthis. Thankyou.
AdelaideGerwin
TheBaylorSchool 8thGrade,CarleneWest
SOMETHINGYOUSHOULDKNOW isthatasakid,Imovedsomewherenew, Theregularhustlingsoundandconstantcommotionwasgone Replacedbyaquietcalmtranquility Andinthisspacemyvoicewouldfill
ItalkedtoeveryoneIcould,influencedbytheconstantsoundIhad known forsolong
Whiletheywereannoyedwiththeirconstantquietnessandtranquility being disrupted
AsIgrew,Irealizedmysoundwasunwantedagainsttheirsilence Mylivelinessandsoundgrewquieterandquieteruntilitwassilent,just like them
Thefireoflivelinessandtheconfidencetospeakpeopleunknowntome grewdarker,
Itdimmedtilnolightflewfromitsonceblazingbranches, Upheldquicklybythedarknessaroundthefirethathadloomedoverit Perhapsthatiswhyevennowmyfearovertakesmeinspeakingwith new people
Thevoiceinmyheadsayingmyexcitementandsoundwasunwanted Noonewantstohearyou.Noonewantstolisten. Theyareannoyedbyyou.Whywouldn’ttheybe? Theyarequiet.Youshouldbequiet. AndIstayquiet.
AnabellaDuarte
TheBaylorSchool
8thGrade,CarleneWest
NINTHGRADE PROSE ZARONIA “Itisdone.Ihadnochoice.Theyrevolted,andthey wouldhavecausedharmtomypeople.Thisismy world,andtheNevintaintmyworldlikevermin.I showcompassiontomypeople,butwhenothersharm myperfectcountryitwillnotgounnoticed!Itistime fortheneedlestoendtheNevinforgood,”declared thedictatorofZaronia,Zaron,inhisdankchambers, whereitseemedallthethoughtsinhisheadmadeup theairthatwasbreathed.
EversincethebeginningofZaron’sempire,there hadbeengreatsufferingamongtheNevin.Some believedthattheconfinementandbeatingwas necessary,includingZaron,whocouldonlyimaginea perfectworldwithoutNevin.Zaronrosefromthe chairlocatedinthefarcornerofhisroombythelarge windowthatheusedtolookoutupontheworldthathe built.Hissecretarycametowardshimwithhispapers.
“Miss,Imeansir,Imeanyourgrace,”shesaidas shebowedtoZaron.“Youareneededforyourmeeting aboutthe…needles…on8thStreet.Wouldyoulikefor metocallyourlimousine?”
“No,Iwillwalktoday.Ineedtoseewhatmypeople arelikewhenIaminthestreetsamongthem,”Zaron responded.Theslightwhiroftheelevatormethimon the85thfloor,anddownhewenttothegroundlevel. Thestreetswerevacantofmuchlifesaveafewcitizens whobeggedhimformoney.Thefurtherhewalked,the quieteritgrewuntiltheonlynoisewasthesimple tappingofZaron’sfeetonthecementsidewalk.
Zaronspottedanelderlywomaninobviouspain huddledagainstadilapidatedbuildinginabundleof ragsclutchingherstomach.Hewouldn’thavelooked twice,butthenayoungwomanwalkeduptotheold ladyandstartedtohealherailments.Zaronwasstruck bythisactofkindness,andwalkedforwardstomeetthe girl.
“Youngwoman,yourcompassiontowardsthis urchinisinspiring.Iwouldliketotellyouthatyour Kingisproudofyoutoday.”
“Thththankyou,s-sir.Wouldyoulikesomebread aswell?”askedthegirl.
“Nothankyou,onlyyourname.”
“Minda,”thegirlsaid.
Zaronwalkedawayandtohismeeting,wherehis evil,vehementmindschemed,andthenwalkedbackto hispenthouse.Onhislonesomestrollbackthough,a signcaughthiseye,oneforayoungwomanwhowas wantedbythegovernmentofZaroniaforthehigh crimeofNevinism.Thenameunderthispicture, Minda.
ThiscrushedZaron;hedidn’tunderstand.Heflew upthefloorstonumber85,brushedpasthissecretary, enteredhisroomandslammedthedoor.Hismind floodedwithquestions:HowcouldaNevinwoman showthislevelofkindness?Wasshetheonlyone?She mustbeanexception.
“Thisismyworld,butthisNevinwomanishelping it.Why?ShouldthisworldbedevoidoftheNevin?Is whatIhavebelievedmywholelifeafallacy?”Zaronsat andponderedthequestionshespoketothehollow wallsofhisdankroom.
ThenextmorningZaronwokewiththeredeyesof amanwhohadnotsleptwell.Hedressedhimself,wary ofthequestionsthatstilloccupiedhismind.Hewalked outofhisroomandwasmetbyhissecretaryagain.
“Sir,yourgrace,wehavegottenwordofaman,a NevinmannamedAldrichwhohasbegungathering Nevinpeople.Theylookasiftheyplantorevolt again,”thesecretarysaid,expectinganoutburstfrom theKing.
“Donotadvanceonthem.Letthemcome,”Zaron said.ThesecretarywascaughtoffguardbytheKing's patience.
Sheresponded,“Well,um,ok.Iwillgivetheword.” Wordcontinuedtospreadthroughthemonths,and thequestionsthatZaronhadponderedonthatnight continuedtopryathim.Asthedayspassedthegroup ofNevinstrengthenedtheircause,theneedleswere beingmassproduced,andovertimeZaroncontinued tosit,coldlikeastatueofamanwhocouldn’tmakeup hismind.
AfterfivemonthsZaronwasconfrontedbyhis secretaryonceagain.“Yourgrace,theyhavestartedto penetratethewallsaroundthebuilding.Weaskthat youevacuate,”shesaid.
“No.Iwillnot.Istillhaveworktodo,”Zaron remarked.Hesat,andthesoundsofpeoplefighting andmenshoutinggrewlouderandlouder,onthefirst floor,thenthefifth,thenthe20th,andsoonuntilthe soundscouldbeheardunderneathZaron’sfeet.
AldrichburstthroughthedoorsofZaron’sroomto findhiminthechairatthecorneroftheroombythe window.
“Iwishtoofferpenance,butIfearthereisnothing thatcanmakeupforwhatIhavedonetoyourpeople.I cannotrestoremyself,”Zaronsaidinaquaveringvoice. “Butthereisonething.”
Aldrichlookedathiminsilence.Thetensionwas tangibleintheair.Hefinallyspoke,saying,“Youhave donegreatsinstomypeople,butyouhaverepented, andIthankyouforthat.Whatisityouhaveinmind?”
Zaronroseandwalkeddownthecorridortothe elevator.ZaronandAldrichrosehightothetopfloor ofthebuilding,whereZaronpulledoutakeyand unlockedtheelevatordoorleadingtothefloorthey wereabouttoenter.Astheywalkedacrosstheroomtoa largeelectronicpanel,Aldrichcouldseetheguiltthat Zaronhelduponhimself.Zarontypedthewords LaunchtoNeedleManufacturingPlantintotheboard andheldhishandreadyattheLaunchbutton.
“FirstIstrivedforthedestructionofpeople,but nowIonlywishfortheirforgiveness.”AtthisZaron hitthebuttonandinthedistancealargeredcloud arose,brighteningtheirfaces.
ConnorMcSween ChattanoogaChristianSchool 9thGrade,CamillePlatt
HOWTOBELATE! Areyoualwaysontime?Well,let'slearnhownottobe ontime,becausenooneisallowedtobesoperfect.It showstoomuchpunctualityandrespectforothers!By noteatingonaschedule,workingwithhorses,andby dependingonotherpeople,youcanalwaysbelatefor everything!
Foodisabigpartofourlives,andyouwillalwaysthink aboutfoodrightbeforeleavingforsomething.Tobe late,donoteatthemainmealsofthedayonaschedule. Ifyoudo,youwillplanyourdayaroundthem.Instead, rightwhenyou'reabouttoleaveforsomething,makea wholemealtoeatbecauseyouneverknowthenexttime you'lleat!Also,beforeleavingforsomething,pack somegoodsnacks.Runaroundgrabbingrandom snackssothatyouareprepared;thiswilldelayyour departure.Inshort,alwaysrememberyourstomach rightbeforeyouleavesoyoucanbelate.
Ifyouownahorseorworkwithhorses,youcanalsouse thistobelate,forwithhorseseverythingtakeslonger thanyouthink.First,“forget”youhavetoleavesoon andputalittleextrafoodinthebucketwhenyoufeeda horseordon'tputenoughwaterinitsoyouhavetoadd morewaterandsoakitagain.Second,justgotakea “short”ridebeforeyouhavetoleaveforsomething. However,eventhenyoustillhavetotackthemupand makethemlookpretty,thenwarmup,andride...and ride...andthisisfunsoridesomemore...anddon't worry,beforeyouknowit,you'llbelate.Thesearejust twowaysthathorsescanmakeyoulate.
Wearedependentonpeoplealotofthetime,and peoplewillalwaysmakeyoulateatsomepoint.First, choosebusyfriendssothatifyoucarpoolanywhere, youknowthey'llbelatetopickyouup.Second,askan oldersiblingtodriveyoutoyourappointmentbecause youcancountonthemsaying“no”atthelastminute, beinglatethemselves,orbeinggrumpyandslow. Lastly,ifyou'reaparent,yourkidsmaymakeyoulate. ..soslackoffkids!
Soifyouwanttoalwaysbelate,donoteatona schedule,workwithhorses,anddependonotherpeople togetyouplaces.AsFranklinP.Jonessaid,“The troublewithbeingpunctualisthatnobody’sthereto appreciateit.”Nooneelsecares,sowhyshouldyou? Workhardatthesethingsandyoutoocanalwaysbe fiveormoreminuteslate,becausenooneelsematters exceptyou. RennHills
THESTORYBEHINDMYPOEM “TheBrutalDeathofaLeaf”isnotsomethingthat simplycametomewithinamatterofminutes;Ihad actuallybeenthinkingofitsincethefallof2023.When Isay“thinkingofit,”ImeanthatIhadbeenthinking ofthefactthathumanityissoshieldedthatwethinkof dyingleavesasbeautiful.Interestinglyenough,whenI toldsomepeopleaboutmypoemandhowitwasabout leavesdying,Igotmixedreactions.Somepeople thoughtitwasweirdandgrim,whileotherpeople thoughtithumorousandfunny.Tome,thisshowshow warpedwe,asapopulation,viewcertainthings.
Mostpeople(includingmyself)seeleaveschanging colorsasabeautifulmetamorphosisofnatureandan amazingdisplayofcolorsthatfallbrings.Butifyou studywhyleavesdowhattheydo,you’llrealizeit’s becausetheplantstopsmakingfoodfortheleaves.As fallencroachesanddaysgetshorter,theplantceases conductingphotosynthesistoprepareforwinter.Asa resultofthis,theleavesontheplantlosechlorophyll, thechemicalthatgivesmostleavesthegreencolorthey have,revealingcolorslikeorange,yellow,andred. Oncetheleavesarecompletelydead,theyfalltothe groundasashriveledupcorpseofwhatitusedtobe. Thisprocesscanbeseenasasymbolofourculture. Leavesareignoredformostoftheyearuntiltheydo somethingspectacular(dying),andtheygetthe attentionoftheworld.
Peopleadmirethemandevendrivelongdistanceson scenicroutestotakephotosofthesedyingbodies. Then,whentheleavesarenotasbeautifulandglorious, andtheyfallofftheplant,they’reseenasshriveled, ugly,andanuisancetohavetorakeupandstuffinto garbagebagsforthegarbagetrucktocollect.Tome, thisreflectshowsocietytreatstrendsandcelebrities.If somethingorsomeonebecomesincrediblypopularor doessomethingextraordinarythatgarnersthe attentionofmillions,theythengetpopularity,money, andpeoplemimickingthemtotryandachievethe same.Then,afterafewweeks(sometimesless),wedrop themandforgetaboutthemforanother,newerfad.
WhenIfirstrealizedthis,Iwasineighthgrade,and myscienceteacherhadjusttaughtmyclassaboutplant structuresandwhyleaveschangecolors.Iwasridingin thecarwithmymomandwasgazingoutthewindowas wepassedothervehiclesonthewaytowhereverwe weregoing.Wedrovepastthisutterlygorgeous landscape,withaforestresidingbehindasmallhousing development.Thetreesweresofascinating,being shadesofredandorange.Suddenly,Iremembered whatmyscienceteachertoldusaboutchlorophyll leavingtheleavesduetoshorterdays.ThenextthingI saidtomymom,whowasdriving,was,“HeyMom, whatifsomeday,leavesmutateintohumanoidleaves anddecidetogetrevengeonhumansbysuckingallthe juicesoutofourbodieswhilecommentingonhow beautifulwelookwhilewedie?”Needlesstosay,she wasnotasimpressedwiththisthoughtasIwas.
Thatscenarioiswheremyfascinationfordyingleaves camefrom.Aboutayearlater,whenIhadtowritea poemformyveryfirsthighschoolliteratureclass,I hadveryfewideas.UntilIrealizedthatIcouldwrite aboutwhathadalwaysintriguedme:whyhumanity thinksdyingleavesarebeautiful.Andso,thatishowI nowhavemyworkofart,passionproject,wordbaby, “TheBrutalDeathofaLeaf”.
SophieLinville HilgerHigherLearning 9thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
Alongtimeago,therelivedamannamedKelly Winderzephy.Hehadbeenbornupafewhundred thousandteaspoonsoutsideofthecityinaminuscule hamlet.Beingraisedinafamilyofsixteen,hewasmost commonlyfoundoutdoors(homewasfartoocrowded forhisliking).HelovedtoplaywiththeTithywithers inthestreamsnearby,oftencominghomelate,covered inlittle,furryinsectsandTupTuptreeleaves.Upuntil theageoffifteen,thiswashislifeeveryday.However, insecret,hisparentshadbeendiscussingtheirtroubles withtheyounglad;yousee,hismotherheavily disapprovedofhisbehavior,sayinghe“Needstogrow upandgetarealjob”.Hisfather,incontrast,supported Kelly;herelishedhisyouthandplayfulness,arguinghe was“Justbeingakid”.Butofcourse,heknewdeep downinhisheartthatthiswasunhealthyforthechild, hehadnofriends,noeducation,andwasregularly bulliedbyhissiblingsfortheodditiesandshenanigans hesofrequentlypartookin.
Soitwasbecauseofthisthattheydecidedtosend himtoR.O.M.I.UniversityonthedayofKelly’sbirth. “ResidenceofOddMenInstitution”wasan“ethical” academyfortroubledboyslikeKelly;theirpurposewas tomoldthosetroubledboysintomenfitformodern society.Uponhearingthisnews,Kellyhadtriedto escapetotheforest,buthisparentshadexpectedhim topullsometrickerylikethis;wheneverhehad overheardthemdiscussingthetopicofschoolinthe past,hehadquicklyslippedawayintotheforesttofind somecomfortinhisfurryfriends.
Sowhenhehadmadearunforthedoor,hewas disappointedtofindsomeofhismorefrightening siblingsbearingtheway.Thatnight,followingthe celebrations(mostlyofhisdeparture),heloadedhis parcelsintohistrunkinasad,sombersilence. Fortunately,heownedfewpossessionsorgarments; youcouldsaythiswascausedbyhisloveofthe outdoorsorperhapshisparentssimplydespised purchasingclothesforhim;eitherway,theprocesswas abrisktask.Kellynevertookmuchtimetohimself simplyjusttomulloverhisthoughts;however,onan occasionlikethis,herequiredsomethinkingtimeto forecasthisnewlife.
HisstarttolifeattheResidenceofOddMen Institutionwasastrangeone;approximatelysix secondsafterdismountinghishorse,ashort,red-haired boysteppedintothepathofKelly,introducinghimself as“GrempVonWill”.EventhoughKellyveryrarely residedaroundhumans,hehadaveryuniquewayof observingsomeone,simplystaringatthemforafew seconds,andinthatshortperiod,obtainingacomplete graspoftheirfeatures,oddities,andtraits.Immediately whatstoodouttohimwastheintensityoftheredhue inGremp’shair;hethoughtthatsurelytheboy’shair musthavebeenvisiblefrommilesaway,forsimplyhe couldthinkofnoothersubstanceinscientificfieldthat wouldevencloselycomparetotheaurathatthese particularfolliclesgaveoff;except,perhapsthemolten magmathatcommonlyresidesinavolcano.Whilestill takinginthefieryredmopthatnowconfrontedhim, hestartedtofeelastrangesensationinthepitofhis stomach.
And,wonderingwherethefeelinghadsuddenlycome fromhesuddenlygraspedthepale,blueeyesthatnow piercedhissole. YoucanprobablytellthatGrempwas anoddfigurealltogether,butKellywasanoddfellow, buttogether,theymadeaperfectmatch.
Ononeverymemorableday,GrempandKelly wereuptotheirusualshenanigans.Theprofessors aroundtheschoolhadbecomequitefamiliarwiththeir tomfoolery,alwayspullingvarioushijinksinclass;and, asprofessorsofa“behaviorcorrectionschool”,noneof themweretoofondoftheboysandtheirantics.One particularinstructor,SirRoman,despisedtheboys; theybothsharedhisfourthperiodLobotomyclass,in whichhedescribedtheirbehavioras“absolutelymental buffoonery”.Theday'slesson,whichwastodissectthe frontallobeofatortoise’sbrain,wasgoingrather swimmingly,whenKellysuddenlydecidedthathe requiredsomeexcitement.Kellywasabrilliantlad,and withthehelpofhisveryhands-onpartner,Gremp slowlypiecedtogetherwhatcouldbedescribedasa “mutanttortoise”.Iwon’tgointogreatdetailofthe processasitisratherjarring;however,bytheendofthe lesson,atwentyteaspoonhighconglomerateof tortoisesbeganrampagingthroughouttheroom, rippingdesksfromfloors,instrumentsfromhands,and ceilingsfromwalls.SoitcameasnosurprisetoKellyor Grempthatwhenstudentsstartedtopouroutofthe classroominterror,theMutantTortoiseonlyfollowed themthroughouttheschool,wreckingchambers,and devastatinghallsasitwent.
Eventuallywhenitreachedthemainoffices,the headwardenoftheschoolfinallyputastoptothe madnessbysimplyturningthebeastontoitsbackside, renderingituselessasitgropedaboutstilllyingonits shell.Now,afterobservingtheeventsthathad unfolded,GrempandZephyknewtheywouldhaveto putastoptotheshenanigansforashortwhileinorder tocleartheirnamesofanypotentialchargesor accusationsthatmightcometheirway.Thisprovedto beadifficulttaskhowever;totheboys,puttingastop totheiranticswaslikesquaringacircle:itwon’t happen.
TobiasValcarce ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,CatherineCox
Shesatwaiting.Theanticipationeatingawayather flesh.Itwasasolidthing,gnawingandpreparedto jumpoutthemomentaknockcame.Thiswastobean importantknock.Aknockthatwouldmemorializethe eventandpushittothefrontofherlistofstoriesto tell.Nothingwouldrivalthisday,sheknew.Notthe dayshefinallyletthesicknesscoverherlikeivy,northe morningshewokeuptothebirdssingingasongshe didn’tloathe,andmostcertainlynotherweddingday.
Onthisdayshewouldfinallywelcomehernew horse.
Ofcourse,whenthingsarecalled‘new’itoften meansthey’reareplacementfortheold.Butthishorse wouldbringaboutsomuchchangewithit,herentire lifewouldfeelnew.
Asgoodasnew,even.
Shelookedupfromherdepressingplateofstale breadandheavedasigh,herlegbouncingupanddown, unabletocontainitspresentiment.Sheknewshe shouldn’tbestressingtheweakfloor,therewere alreadyseveralplacesinthebedroomwherethelegsof thebedhadcreatedholesintheground.Tokeepthings light,sheregardedtheimperfectionsasawaytokeep thebedsecure.Thereweremanythingslikethatinher house;thestuffyheatservedasaremindertogetout more,thehaphazardcupboardsencouragedhertoeat sothefoodwouldn’tspoil.Butthesighandthetapping ofhershoeagainstthewoodenfloorwerequickly interruptedbyarapatthedoor.Shestoodabruptlyand marchedwithpurposetowardthefrontofherhouse, thefloorboardscryingwitheachstep.
Therestoodherbrothergraspingaropewhichwas tiedlooselyaroundtheneckofahorse.Thesteed possessedasolemnlookinitseyes,likeasicklychild thathadneverknownwhatitwastobelively.
“She’sperfect!”sheexclaimed,“Armando,she’s perfect!”
“Areyoucertain,Rosa?Themerchantsallsaidshe wastheonetheyjustcouldn’tshake.Theyevenhelped transportherherejustbecauseweweretakin’heroff theirhands.”Hepushed.
“Well,that’sevenmorereasonwhyshe’sperfect!” Rosagrabbedtheropeeagerlyandrushedovertothe temporarystableonthesideofthehouse.Shehadbeen soexcitedbythearrivalofherhorse,she’dscarcely noticedthegravedemeanorherbrotherhadassumed. Shestoredtheanimalaway,thenreturnedtodelivera farewelltoArmando.
Rosa,noticingsomethingwaswrong,failedto realizewhatexactlythatwas.
“Brother,what’sthematter?”Sheasked. Armandosighed,“ThishastobethelastthingIdo foryou,Rosa.MywifeandIcan’tcarryonlikethis.I understandyou’vebeentoosicktowork-”
“Brother,Iwarnyou,don’tbringthatintothis,” Theskyhadturnedgray;grayandcold,andthe cloudsbegantospin.InRosa’smind,thespinningwas furious,butsheknewthiswasjustthewayshesaw things.
Forher,theskywasneverstill.
“Rosa,letmespeak.”Hesaidcautiouslyaftera momentortwo.
“Iunderstandperfectlywhatyouareattemptingto convey.Youcanleavenow.”
Shestormedofftothestables,leavingbeforeher feetcouldsinkanyfurtherintothemud.Shefailedto recalltheexactmomentithadbeguntorain.
Thehorsewaswaitingthere,justasshehadlefther. Nothingamisssavefortheholeintheroofnowleaking waterintoabucketshehadplacedthereearlierina rushtoprepareforthehorse’sarrival.
“ItwouldservebothofuswellifIgaveyouaname, wouldn’tit?”
Rosagazedintohereyes,ponderingforamoment. Theadventofthisanimalhadbeenoneordeal,nowshe neededsomethingequallyasrecognizabletocallthe horse.Itcametohersuddenlyastherainmomentarily letupandshewasallowedamomenttohearher thoughts.
“HowaboutColdAir?”Shewonderedaloud,still lookinginthecreature’seyes.
“Abitternameforabitterhorse.”
ColdAirdidnotmeetRosa’sgaze,insteadshechose tostareatthefloor,agrowinghollownessnestlingitself justbeyondtheplacewherethehumanwouldbeableto recognizeit.
Shelethereyesdroptothegroundaswell,where rivuletsfromtherainranaroundherwornshoes.
“Youknow,ColdAir.Iusedtolivehere,onthe samepatchofearthyounowstand,”Shecontinued, “Mybrotherrenovatedanactualhouseformeafew yearsago.CanyouimaginetheabsurdityofifIstill livedhere?Inashedofallplaces!”
Rosaconsideredbrieflyhowodditwasforhertobe talkingtoahorseasifitwereathingthatcould respond.She’ddonethissamethingwiththetreesasa child,alwaysconsciousofthefactthatheractions wouldberegardedasstrangehadsomeonebeenthere towitnessthem.Butshecouldn’thelpit,theinanimate entitiesweretheonesshefoundtheleastjudgmentin. Eventually,eventhewildernessgottobetoomuchfor herprematurefrailty.
“Looksliketherainislettin’up.Weshouldheadto towntobuyafewthingsbeforeitgetstoodark.”
Theysetoutforthelittletownanhourawayby horse,Rosapleadingforthecloudstohavebeen satisfiedafteremptyingthemselvesout.Often,the thingsshebeggedforwerefutile.Theywerechildish dreamsthatkeptherfromthinkingtoohardabout whethershewouldwakeupinthemorning.
Buthercurrentrequestwassimple.Itwasan attainablethingfortheuniversetohandtoher.The horsewouldneedfood.CertainlymorethanRosa neededit.
SophieBerestecky
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,CatherineCox
ThestreetsofEnglandheldmanysecrets.Secrets tuckedintoshadowsofalleys,secretstuckedintothe breastpocketsoftherich,secretslaidoutplainlyonthe sidewalk,justwaitingforsomeonetopickthemup. Whilesecretswaitpatiently,theworldmoveson. Hearthsarestoked,beggarsarekicked,workistobe done.TheinsignificantandbusypeopleofEngland findthemselveslivingunderthecloudy,smoke-gray sky,withshelvestostockandchildrentotakecareof, foodtoscroungeforandscrapsoffuntimestopickup. Inabustling,burblingcityentrenchedinawarand perchedontheedgeofarevolution,thewindrustling thewinter’sbarebranchesalmostgoesunheardwithall theworryintheair.
Secretsbecomeunimportantwhenoneisstarvingto survive.
Sowhilesocietyclashesandadvances,secretsare forcedtofindagoodhidingplace.Andhidingplaces arecold,bone-shiveringlyso.Hidingplacesaresparse, sometimesonlyfourdepressingwallsandacottocry on.Thisisthejailthepoorgirlwasconfinedto.For months,years,amind-numbingdecade,shehid.Outof theiron-barredwindowshecouldseetheseasonspass, watchtheleavesturnashadeofvelvetandfalltotheir deathseveryyear,watchtheadultslimpbyonjusttheir willpower,watchthechildrenplaywiththeirinnocent rosycheeks,unawareofthecrisisintheworld.Itwasall shecoulddotowatch.
Movingremindedherofhowherbonesstuckoutof herskinatsharppoints,andhowsmallofaroomshe wastrappedin.Soshesatinthesameplace,watching, wishing,andwaitingfordinner.
Thegirllackedmanymemories.Herheadwas emptyofgoodexperiences,andherbodyhadnever beenawareofplaying,orrunning,orsittinginatree andwatchingtheleavesglideawayfromtheirhome. Shedidnothaveanythingtoremember.Shehadgrown tonearly11yearsofbeingalive,butshehadneverquite beenliving.Livingisnotwaiting,wishing,watching, andeatingcoldporridgeshovedmeanlythroughthe rustymailslot.Livingisnotwashingoneselfwithdirty wateronceamonth.Livingisnotbeingconstantly controlledbyyouramountofmoney,ofwhichshehad verylittle.Thegirlwasmerelyexisting,hadbeenher wholelife.
Thatwas,untilamiraclecametoshowherhowto live.
Thedaywasyoung,juststretchingandyawning, finallyturningintotheday,feelingtimeflowonoverit. Itwasatthistimethatthegirllikedmosttowatchthe sky.Itwasatthistimethattheworldchangedfrom darkanddrearytoslowlypurple,thenredlikeacozy fire,yellow,andbrightsky-likeblue.Herfavoritepasttimewasmoldingshapesintotheclouds.
Itwasfittingthatamiraclewouldcomeatthebest timeofday.Asunalarmingasaroostercarryingoutits dailycrow,thebestthingtoevercomeuponthe miraclesidleduptothewindow.Anditwasaperson.
Shehaddark,richskinandpokingeyes,talllikea clocktowerandganglyaschildrencome.Herhair stoodupinunwashedspikes,cringinginonitselfin tightspirals.Shehadonlyalinendress,coveredin patchesandfraysandclearlycuttingintoherarmsin theshoulders,tohangoffofheremaciatedbody. But asfragileandweakasshelooked,shewastheonly personwhohadeverapproachedthewindowofthe girl’sprison.Shewastheonlyonetoeverdiscoverthe secret.Andthatwasamiracleenough.
Despitehowplainlypovertywaswrittenonthis newcomer ’sforehead,shesmiledasbrightlyasakingat hisfeast.Thensheleanedinclose,pressedherskinny fingersonthedirtyglasspane,widenedhereyes impossiblymore,andasked,“Whyareyouinthere?”
Hervoicewashighandlively,curiousand anticipatory.Itwasjusttheoppositeoftheprisoner's voicewhenshereplied,“Ilivehere.”
Shedidnotreallymeanshelivedhere.Shemeant sheexistedhere.
Thegirlmerelynoddedinreply.Sheseemedlostin thought,tumblingbetweenpossibleanswersand hanginginthebalanceofeach.Hereyescloudedover, hermouthscrewedupinawobblyscowl,hereyebrows drewtogether.Everythingheldstillforamoment. Thenhergazecleared,andsherearrangedhermouth tothesameblindingsmile.Sheanimatedherlonglegs andwalkedoffinascragglyhalflimp,disappearing behindtheskinnyalleyway.
Thegirlhadneverhadanyfriendsinsideher monotonousbox.Inalifeoftragedy,struggle,war,and hopelessmonarchy,onerarelyfindstimetostopand befriendthegirlinthewindow.Andsuddenly,shehad somethingtoponderabout.Inabizarre,confusing,life alteringway,shewasleftwonderingwhatwouldhappen next.
Shefellasleephopingthestrangerwouldcomeback.
JillianBrown
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,CatherineCox
“Momma!Asquirrel!”agirlshrieks,hereyeswide. Hermotherswearsandveersviolently,barelymissing thegray-brownbodyfrozenonthewindingmountain road.Itblinks,thenskittersacrosstotheotherside,as ifnothingwasamiss.
“Oh,baby,areyouokay?”sheasksthestillshaken child.“Darnedtreerats,”shethenmutters.
“Yeah,I’mgood.”Thegirlslowlyblinksbackinto calm.Peeringintothebackwindow,shethenasks, “Whydiditnotmove?”
“Whoknows?”Hermothersighs.“It’slikethey tradedtheirbrainsfornuts.”
Thescurryofsquirrelssithighupintheoak, watchingtheblackbeastclimbaroundthehairpin curveandoutofsight.Theythenturntothelast competitortocross,standingverymuchaliveonthe othersideoftherockriver.Theyscamperbackacross, atriumphantyetshakenflickerintheirtailasmuscular groundguardsusherthembackintoaholeatthebase ofthewalnuttheycameoutof.Halfthesquirrelsabove chitterinasomewhatdisappointedway,glaringatthe otherhalf,wholookbacksmugly.
“Payup,”onesaystotheother,holdingoutboth pawsexpectantly.Similarmotionsrepeatacrossthe branches.Theothersquirrelreluctantlypassesalarge oakacorn.Thefirstsquirreladmiresitappreciatively, thenturnsback,“Doubleornothing?”
“Unfortunatelynot,”hercompanionsighs,“The missusgavemeathree-cornlimitforthemonth.I’m justluckyshedidn'tcutmeoff.”
“Toobad,”thewinnersighs,gingerlysettingthe nutonthebranchbesideher.“I’monastreak.”
“Well,feelfreetojoinanotherpool.Ineedtoget backtowatchthekits.Maplejuststartedtoclimb yesterday,andit’llbeanarchyforthenextfewdays.”
“Yeah,that'satryingtime,”thewinnernodsin response.“Seeyounextmonth,then?”Herbetting partnernodsbeforetakingoffacrossthebranches, leapingfromtreetotreetooutofsight.Shethenturns back,scouringthelimbsforanotherpoorsoultobeat. Hereyeslandonascruffylookingfellow,halfhiddenin theshadowsoftheelmneighboringherown.Lips quirked,shesmoothsherfurbeforescuttlingacrossthe twigsandclimbingdownthetrunktohisside.
“Iseemtolackapartnerforthenextmatch.Betyou afatpinethatthisnextonemakesithalfwaywitha five-secondpausebeforekickingit,"shesays,nodding toaskinnysquirrelbeingdraggedfromthedepthsof thetree.Hisfurismatted,andhiseyesblinkwideat thecrowdabovehim,theninterrorattherockriver beforehim.Herchallengermerelynods,blackeyes sweepingacrossthebranches.“Ah-ah,I’mgoingto needproofofpaymentfirst.Standardguidelines,you know.”Sheflashesarodentgrin.
Shenotestensioninhermark’sjaw,butheslowly pullsoutfourginkgoseeds,atreetopequivalenttoa pinenut.“Hopethisworks,”isallhesays.
“Finalbets!Getyourfinalbetsin!”awell-fed squirrelscreechesfromthesweetgumacrosstherock river.Bothgamblersgazebehindthem,eye-lightsof anotherriverbeastglintingthroughthefoliage.
Thefirstsquirrelcoughsthenasks,“Neverseen youherebefore.Newmigration?”Herpartnernods stiffly,onlyaddingtothetensionintheair.“So,this isn’tyourfirstnutjob?”Sheasks,tailtwitching nervously.
“Youcouldsaythat.”Hiseyesseemtopiercethe veryair,onlypullingherindeeper.She’sabouttoask abouthispreviousringwhentoherrelief,heasks“The racers.Aretheyvolunteers?”
Shesnorts.“Hardly.OldSycamoreoverthereonly takesenemies.Noonewithanybrainswouldeverrisk ithere.We’retheringwiththemostroadkills,”she sayswithanedgeofprideasshegesturestoastern lookingsquirrel.Hisgazeflitsfromthegrayrockriver tothedoeswayingbesidehim.Hercoatgleamswith barkoilandshimmersprettily.Althoughshedances expertly,themysterysquirrelnotesdiscomfortinher back.Hislipscurlfaintlyindisgust,buthecoversitup ashisbettingmateturnsbacktohim.
“ThisSycamorefellow,”hebeginscarefully,“ishe MoonstarSycamore,theinfamousnutboss?”Hetries toremainasnonchalantaspossible.
“Well,betweenyouandme…”theothersquirrel leansandwhispers,foolishlyeager,“He’snotcalledthe SilverClawfornoreason,ifyouknowwhatImean.” Shegiveshimaconspiratorialwink.Hestuffsdownhis satisfactionattheconfessionandquicklyturnshis attentionbacktothedarkrockriverasthescrawny lookingsquirrelisshovedontotheroughsurfacejustas agreatwhitebeastroundsthebend,not1000paces fromwheretheracertrembles.
Whilehispartnerandalltheothergamblerslookon eagerly,frothingforblood,thesquirrelturnsaway, discreetlywhisperingintoanacorncapundertheguise ofgrooming.
“Yougetallthat?”
“Ohyeah.OldSilverClawwon’tknowwhathit him.Onyoursignal.”
Thesquirrelpullsoutasharprocksplinterhehad beenconcealingbehindhim.“WoodlandGuard!You areallunderarrest!Layyourpawsflatonthebarkin frontofyou.”Squirrelsacrossthebrancheschitter alarm.Somecomply,otherstrytomakeabreakforit, onlytobecorneredbybuffsquirrelsbearingsimilar spiresdroppingfromabove.Asilverhairedsquirrel leapsandlandsbesidetheundercoverguardastwo otherswrestleSycamore,bindinghislimbswithvine.
“Anotherbust,Moss?You’llbemadechiefforthis.”
“Abuckcandream,Knot.”
Hiscompatriotchuckles.“Wannabet?” MegFinger ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,CatherineCox
NINTHGRADE POETRY Theclocksounds, Signalingthebeginningofteatime. Subjectivityisacurse,sothesecreaturesdrinktheirtea Atthesamehouraseveryoneelse. Itwaswrittenonthetreeoutside, Sotheyabide.
Thetreeenjoysherteatimeaswell, Becauseifshedidn’t,thenhersapwouldceasetoexist, Andwithoutsap,downshewouldgo, Choppedupandreconfiguredtoformaladder. Perhapsforthecreaturestosettheircupson, Whiletheywaitedforthemilktobebroughtout.
Theclocksoundsagain,butthistimeitdoesnotstop. Forthetreeregainedherbranches Thathadbeenlosttothemechanicsoftheclock.
Thetreedecreesteatimewillbeallthetime, Sothecreaturesabide.
SophieBerestecky
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,CatherineCox
Frigidwind
Blowingleavesinacircularmotion
Hawksoaringinthewind
Leavescrashingdowntotheground
Leavesarecrunchinglikechips
Schoolchildrenpilingleaves
Leapinginwithjoy
Copycatschoolchildrenpilingleavestoo
Thewind,ahowlthatcutsthenight, Throughbendingtrees,ittakesitsflight. Withfuryfierce,itsweepstheland, Avoiceofspirits,oldandgrand.
Itwhisperssecrets,darkanddeep, Thatonlyearthandshadowskeep. Attimesitroars,againstthehush, Arestlessforce,aprimalcrush.
Ittugsatworlds,bothstillandworn, Unsettlingallthat’sbeenreborn. Aconstantbreath,arestlesssound, Thatmovesbeneath,above,around.
Underneaththehowlingsky, Theearthstirs,asmomentsfly. Thewind,itseeks,ithunts,itroams, Asearchingsoulwithoutahome.
ZoeyLane SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 9thGrade,JordanBaysore
JUSTAMOMENT Outsideonawarmsummerday
Thebreezeblowing Thebirdschirping Thebeesbuzzing
Thesunshiningdown
Sittingontheporchwithyou
Holdingoncarefullytoeachwordyousay
Yourockinginyourfavoritechair Themomentonlylastsafewminutes
Butitfeelslikeasecond Wishingitcouldlastalifetime
Theysaythatyounevermisssomethinguntilit’sgone Iguessthat’strue Iwishyouwerehere
IwishIcouldlistentoyouagain
Justonemoretime
IamsothankfulforthattimeIhadwithyou
EventhoughIwishforjustamomentlonger
AlexandriaWestmoreland
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 9thGrade,JordanBaysore
ILIED IliedaboutwhyIhadtremblinghands IliedwhenIcanceledAllmyplans IliedwhenIsaidtherewasn’ttearsinmywaterline AndIliedwhenIsaidIwasfine ButI'vehaditwiththeliessoI’llcomeclean IgotstressedandthatwasthereasonIwasmean Igotanxiousandthat’swhyIpushedyouaway Ididn’twanttomakeplansbecauseIhadn’tleftmy houseindays
I’mscaredofwhat’soutofmycontrol andbeingaheadandhavingittogetherismylifegoal BeingabletoachievethatisharderthanIthought Ifailedtothinkaboutwhathardshipslifebrought Ican’thelpmyfamilywhowilldieoneday Ican’thelpthatmyfriendsonedaywillgoaway WhenIsayI’mscaredofdeathIdon’tmeanme Imeanmyfriendswhowantittoend Imeanthosecarsontheroadadjacenttomyfamily ImeanthosepeoplewhoIdon’tevenknowwhoarein danger
Butthisworldisjustfullofhatredandanger That’ssomethingIcannotfix Sowhyworryaboutitifit’sjustpartoftheexperience AndWell,Itry Butthat’sthewholereasonIhavetolie
TWOCANBETOOMUCH Twodaysistoomuchtobeawayfromyourfamily Itcausesyoutoworry Twohoursistoomuchtimetoeatbreakfast Itstopsyoufromgettingtowork Twosecondsistoomuchtosayasingleshortword Itwouldmakeasentenceinawhile.
Twobooksistoomuchtoexplainsomethingsimple Itmakesyoureadtoomuch Twoessaysistoomuchtowriteonthebasicshapeofa square Itbringstoomuchtomind Twosentencesistoomuchtoexplaintheresultofa coinflip Itstallstheresults.
TACOBELL TacoBell,you’realwaysthere, Latenightruns,we’veallbeenthere. Crunchy,cheesy,saucybliss, Abiteofjoywecan’tresist. BajaBlastandFireSauceheat, Theperfectmatch,atastytreat. Softorcrunchy,wedon’tcare, TacoBell,you’rebeyondcompare.
BaileeChandler
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 9thgrade,JordanBaysore
THEWILD Iwanttobeinthewild; Wheretheanimalsarefree; Wherethemossgrowsonthetrees; Wherethesilencehasmeaning; Whereyoucanhearyourheartbeating;
Iwanttobeinthewild; WhereIcanbeananimalagain; WhereI'mfreeuntilmyend; WhereIcanliveoninstinct; Whereeverylivingthingislinked;
Iwanttobeinthewild; WhereIcantastefear; WhereIcantrulydisappear; WhereIcanreturntothecyclewhenIdie; WheretoeverythingI'llbetied;
Iwanttobeinthewild; Wheremycorpsewillbeconsumed; Whereeverypartofmewillbereused; Wherethewildcantakeme; Andmakesomethingofbeauty; Iwanttobeinthewild; WherewhenIdieIwon'tbetrappedinabox; Wheremyboneswilllieontherocks; Wheretheywillcrumbletodust; Whereeverythingthathappensissomethingthat must;
Iwanttobeinthewild; WhereIcanbefree; WhereIcanletthewildchoosewhathappenstome; WhereIcanletgo; WhereIcanbepartofthenaturalflow;
Iwanttobeinthewild; WhenIinevitablydieoneday; ReturnmetothewildwhereIcandecay; WhereIcanreturntothecycle; WhereIcanaidinthewild’ssurvival;
JolienBaxter OoltewahHighSchool
9thGrade,MelanieCollins
RIVALSTOROSES Standingherewhereweusedtofightinrage Webuiltseparatewallsuphighandsound Buttheseasonschangeandrearrange Nowwe'residebysidewatchingthemfalldown
Everystolenglanceinacrowdedroom LingerlongereachtimetillIstarttobelieve
EverytimeIchoosetoletmyhopesbloom
Justtowatchthemdielikeautumnleaves
I’moverthesemomentscaughtonrepeat We'vedancedarounditlongerthanIcanallow Thesemonthsfeelendlessstuckonthissamebeat Sotakethisleapwithmerighthererightnow
Here’smyconfessionpleaseletthisberight Wouldithurttodreamoutloudtonight
LiviBarnes
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,HannahHale
A“WICKED”SONNET InOz,wheremagicrisesandthewitchflies Atalefoldsforthegreenedskinonewithtwistedfate Elphaba,withalotofforceinhereyes Awickedheart,oramisunderstoodstate
Glindawithherblondehairandbubblycheer WhileElphiebecomesawareandstandsherground Theirbond,soabnormalbringsloveandfear
Inaworldwherenorealpeacecanbefound
TheWickedwitch,thoughfearedisbraveandstrong Sheshowshowthingsaren’tsoclear Sheholdsherown,whenallofOzseemswrong Thethinlinesbetweengoodandbadslowlydisappear.
InOz,thetruthliesintheend Whereevenwickednessfindsafriend
KhloeeCrutcher
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,HannahHale
THEFEELOFWINTERINNATURE Therollingtide,likewhispersinthenight, Whileseagullscallanddanceuponthesky, Insunlight'sglow,thewatersshinesobright, Alongtheshores,thecouplesdanceinreply.
Theoceanstretchesfarbeyondoursight, Withwavesthatcrashandfoamalongtheshore. Thenervesofthewaterreallyfight, Youneverknowwhatithasinstore
Witheverywavethatkissessoft,warmsand, Theoceansingsalullabysosweet, Aschildrenlaughandplay,handinhand, Innature’sspace,whereearthandwatermeet.
Thebreezemakesmeplantmyfeetontheground, Wewatchasthesandcastlesfallfromtheirmound.
AshlynnGrooms
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,HannahHale
Thegentleoceanwavesatmidnightcrash
Thegorgeousmoonlightontheoceanshines
Thegentletintoflightblueandsilverflash
Themidnightcloudsdisplayourlovers’signs
Hiswhispereddreamsfloatgentlythroughtheair
Thewhite-washedsandgrowswarmerashelay
Hisfacelitupbeneaththemoonlight’sglare
Theoceanbreezedriftsgentlythroughhisbay
Themidnightwaves,darkblue,embracehisform
Themoonwasmirroredinhislipsandeyes
Heslowlyturnedtoseemefeelingwarm
Twohearts,justlikeoceanwater,allies
Likeconstellationsmirroredinseaglassbelow
Ourlovereflectsthestars’eternalglow
AdhvikaPrakasam
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,HannahHale
Thestarspartforhergloriousform
Theshoregoesdryastheseareachesout Abeautythatcouldcalmthestrongeststorm Herloverwaitsbelowpatient,devout
Seaspullawayfromthehatefullandscape
Crashingwaves,anewloveisborn
Heavenlymother,thenightishercape
Thedaydividesthemasobjectsofscorn
“Myloveistrue,”thewaterssingduringthenight Moonlightshivers,tearsfalldownfromhereyes Nomatterhowshetries,shestillfeelsplight Theseacriedwithher,feelingherdemise
Thesunwillcomeup,risehighinthesky Alovesoforbidden,withoutknowingwhy
JordynTodd
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 9thGrade,HannahHale
OTENNESSEETHYTENNESSEE OTennesseethyTennessee, Sweeptheeawaylikethyfallleaves, Forlovesoundssosweetinabookreadinatree, TakemeawayintheOldSmokiestoo, OnapicnicwhereIlookattheskysoblue,
OTennesseethyTennessee Thrutreetopsandhilltops,mountaintopsandtable tops, Myreverencefortheeisthruandthru, Taketheetothyfalls,Fosterwouldbegreat, Ortaketheetothylakes,tothatDouglasforIwillnot hesitate.
ByTennesseemyTennessee MyfriendIwillgobutbebacksoon, ForIwillbegoneforacouplemoons, FortheeneedstoleavetofindsomethingIneed, Foritisadegree.
BACKSPOTS Youseethetop, Wayupthere, Flyinglikeabird, Flippinginmidair.
Butnooneevernotices Thespotsstandingintheback. Insignificantandunseen, Pickingupthebases’slack.
Totheaudience,abackspot Isnoamazingsight. Instead,theywatchtheflyer, Ashootingstarinflight.
Yetwheneverthetop Tripsorfallsdown, Thebackspot’sthere Betweenthemandtheground.
CharliDavis HilgerHigherLearning 9thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
AMEMORYISMORETHANYOUTHINKITIS Amemoryis-morevaluablethangoldAndmorepreciousthansilverAmemoryislikeadream-exceptadreammayfade afteryouwake-
ButamemorystaysandlivesonUnlikethepossessionsyoumaycherishinthisworldAmemoryisforever-
Amemoryismorethanyouthinkitis.
AmemorycaninspireandimpactchoicesIfnotforamemory-howcouldyoumakedecisions basedonyourexperiences?
Amemoryismorethanyouthinkitis.
AmemoryisuniquetoyouAnyonecantellastoryofamemory-butyouhave yourownperspectiveYourperspectiveisimportantandiscapableof changingtheworldAmemoryismorethanyouthinkitis. MyaGuge HilgerHigherLearning
TENTHGRADE PROSE CREATIVITYTAKESTIME Dearwritingteachers,youtellmecreativitytakestime, althoughmyassignmentistowriteapoemwithinone week'snotice.Mycreativityisnotaswitchyoucanturn onwithaflick;itdoesn'tflowfrommelikeclearwater bytheturnofafaucet.Inthedepthsofme,nothingis poetic,nothingscreamsbeautyoranger,nothingsays anything.YetImustfindsomethingtheleastbit eligibletoturnin.Idon'tdoitforthegrade;Idoit becauseIlovepoetry,andI'dbedisrespectfultothrow wordsonpaperandcallitpoetry.Thebeautifulart wouldbeusedinvain.Mydesiretoproducesomething meaningfulandthepressuresofdeadlinesaremy burden.I'vededicatedeveryhourandeverybreath everylateandearlyhourtoletmythoughtsrunto everycornerofmymind,searchingforapoetic thoughtthatmightmakesomethingbetterthana grade,somethingthatmightmakeart.Youknowthe artinthemuseumsisn'talwaysspectacularorperfect; asamatteroffact,youdon'talwaysknowwhatyou're lookingat,butyetitilluminatesafeelinginyou,and youmaylookatitdifferentlythanothersorgeta differentfeelingthanthem,butit'safeeling,Iwantmy poetrytobelikethatart,atapestryofemotion,happy, sad,Iwantsomeonesomewheretofeelwhentheyread thewords.Imayspend10,20,or30days,months,or yearsjustwritingasinglepoemthatpeopleadmire;yes, somecanwritebeautyin10minutes,butthatisnotme, andIamnotinspiredbythefallofaleaforthebreeze inthetrees.
Yetyoutellmetobecreative,forheaven'ssake;whatis ityouwishfromme,toreplacemycreativitywith someoneelse's.Tohaveanger,Idonotfeel.Tospeak ofbeauty,I'venotseen.Withtime,withasmuchtime asitmaytake,Ishallseethings,hearthings,and somethingmaysparkinspirationwithinme.Simplya weekofpacingfloorsgivesmeadullsenseoffailure,as ifIshouldbemoreinnovativethanIam,totakemore thanIhave.WillIeverbeframe-worthyorsomething morethanafewemptywordsonpaper?Ifarttookno time,museumswouldbefloodedwithartwork,but woulditbecreative?It'dbeanotherpiece;Idon'twant tobejustanother.Creativityisanintrinsicpartofour identity,notmerelysomethingwecanturnonandoff atwill.Valuethepieceandvaluethetimespentmaking it;itisnotonlyarttocreatesomethingbeautifulbutto seesomethingbeautiful;Iseetimespentonanypiece asbeautifulbecauseitshowscreativity,notperfection, orhowquicklyitwasdone.Dearteachers,ittakestime, soifyouwantcreativity,pleasestoprushingme.
EmmarieTreece HilgerHigherLearning 10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
THELONELYROAD “There’sbeenanotherone,”Johncalledfromthe doorwayofAnna’soffice.
Withasigh,Annalookedupfromthefileonher desk,removingherglassesasshedid,“Isthere anythingdifferentaboutthisonefromtheothers?”She didn’tlookhopeful,butthensheneverdid.Everycase wasthesame.Emptycarswerefoundintheexactsame spotontheroad.Therewerealwaystwovictims.
JohnsetanevidencebagonAnna’sdeskandsettled intothechairacrossfromher.“JaneSandlerand JessicaWilliams.Theydidapodcastandweredoinga storyonwhattheycalled‘TheLonelyRoad.’That’s thenametheygavetheroadwherethevictimshadbeen found.Theyhadacameraintheircar.”
“Haveyouwatchedthefootageyet?”Annasaid. “Notyet.Iwaswaitingforyou.”Johnsettledback inhischair.
Thescreenshowedthefullmoonilluminatingthe cloudssurroundingit,burningthemawaywithitslight. Youcouldglimpseitthroughthetreesastheydrove thelonelyroadatdusk.Theskydarkenedwithevery passingminute.Suddenlyadarkfigureappearedonthe roadinfrontofthecar.Thecarscreechedtoastopand thefigureextendedahand.Thescreenwentblack.
“Whatwasthat?”Annaexclaimed,backingupthe footagetopauseonthedarkfigure.Shesquinted,but couldn’tmakeoutthefigurethroughtheblurry camerafootage.
“Howfarapartarethedisappearances?”Johnsaid, movingtotheboardinthecornerwiththecase information.
“Aboutamonth,why?”Annasaid,stillsquintingat thefigureonthescreen.
“Therewasafullmoonthatnight.Allthe disappearancesoccurredamonthapart.Couldbe connected.”
“Whatlikesomekindofcult.Iknowwe’vethought thatbeforebuttherehasbeennoevidenceofoccult activityintheareas.Nothingconnectingthevictims.” Annashookherhead,“It’sanotherdeadend.We shouldtryandfigureoutwhatthiscreatureis.”
“Nothingconnectingthevictims,butwhatifthe mooncycledoes.”WhenAnnastilldidn’tlook convinced,Johnadded,“It’sworthlookinginto.”
“Fine,”Annastartedtypingonhercomputer,“I’m lookingupalistofallthefullmoondatesinthepast year.Let’sseehowmanymatch.”
Johnlookedtriumphant.“Okay,thefirstonewason Januarytwenty-fifth.”Annagavehimathumbs-up. “Februarytwenty-fourth?Marchtwenty-fifth?”Anna noddedforallofthem.Theywentthroughthelistuntil theyfoundthatallelevenmurdersoccurredduringthe fullmoon.
“Sothatmeansthenextmurderwilloccuron Decemberfifteenth.Wehavetobethere.”Annashook herhead,“Wejusthavetobecareful,incasewe’re next.”
Amonthlater,Annasatonthesideofthe roadwaitingforJohntoshowup.Heplannedtodrive tothisspotandpretendtobeavictim.
Annawouldthenjumpoutandquestionthefigure beforeitcouldtakeJohn.
Sheleanedback,ignoringthecoldseepingthrough her,andlookedupatthemoon.Itwasbright,lighting upthescenebeforeher,burningawaythewispyclouds infrontofit.Inthedistance,sheheardJohn’scarand pulledoutthegunfromwhereitsatatherwaist.As John’scarcameintoviewabrightlightflashedanda figurestoodbeforethecar.Johnslammedonhisbrakes andAnnaranoutinfrontofthecarscreaming,“Stop! police!”
Johncameoutofhiscar,guninhand,andstood besideAnna.Annacouldmakeoutthatthefigurewas humanoid,butnoteventhelightofthemooncould penetratethedarknessthatseemedtoseepfromthe creature.Thecreaturepausedforamomentbefore extendingahandandspeaking,inavoicehoarsefrom disuse,“Finally.”
AnnalookedtowardsJohnbeforesteppingforward andsaying,“Didyoutakethesepeople?”
Thefiguresteppedforward,armstillextended, “Theygottooclose.”
Wherearethey?”Annatookastepback,pulling Johnwithher,“Whatdidyoudotothem?”The creatureindicatedthetendrilsofdarknessseepingfrom himandAnnacouldmakeoutfaintscreamscoming frominsidethefigure.Horrorfloodedthroughheras sherealizedwhatitmeant.“Whatareyou?”
“Icrashedhere,onthisplanet,inthisrevoltingspot. I’vebeenstuckeversince.Icanonlychargemyship withthesoulsofinnocentscollectedwhenthemoonis full.Ineedtwenty-four.
Ihavetwenty-two,luckilytwoinnocentsoulsjust happenedalongmypath,tryingtostopme.”Withthat, thecreaturelungedtowardsthem.Thetendrilsof darknessextended,surroundingthetwodetectivesand closinginfast.
“Whatdowedo?”Johncried,pointinghisgunat theclosingdarkness.
Annalookedaroundforagapintheshadowsbut couldn’tfindone.Movingtowardstheplacewherethe tendrilsseemedtobecomingfrom,shestrainedher eyes.Shedidn’tknowifthiswouldworkbutshehadto try.
“Whatareyoudoing,Anna?”Johnscreamedfrom wherethedarknesswasinchesawayfromhim.Not takinghereyesfromthespotwhereshewassurethe creaturewas,sherealizedthatifthiswasgoingtowork, shehadtoactnow.
There!Rightinthemiddleofthetendrils,curved fingers.Shelungedforthecreatureandtackledhimto theground.Thetendrilsdisappearedandthecreature screamed.Itsfleshwasturningredandpuffy.She threwherselfbackwardandthecreatureexplodedina balloflight.Peeringoutfromwheresheshieldedher eyes,shesawthatwherethecreaturehadbeenstooda groupofpeople.Smilingshegottoherfeet.The victims!
“Youdidit,”Johngaspedfrombehindherandshe smiled.Alltwenty-twovictimsweresafe.
MollyHampton SignalMountainMiddleHighSchool 10thGrade,KristinRobertson
THEBRAVESTTHING. Braveryisaparticularlyhardconceptbecausemost peopledon’treallyunderstandit.Thosethatdoare usuallyintimidatedbyit.ThankstoAvengers, Predator,andtheaction/adventuregenreasawhole, stupidity(or“fearlessness”)isoftenmistakenfor courage.Thishascausedustosubconsciouslythinkof peopleasbeingbraveorbeingacoward.Onsomelevel itistruethatsometendtowardsthefightresponse whileotherstaketoflight.However,thisthought processcanbecomeaproblembecauseitessentially eliminatesthepossibilityofpersonalgrowth.
Nooneisjustbrave,orjustacoward.Everychoicewe makebringsusclosertooneortheother.Everyonehas flaws.Moreimportantly,everyonehasfears,whichsaid flawsfeedoffof.Ifyou’reabeliever,butyou’re terrifiedofnotfittingin,thoseinsecuritieswilltryto wormtheirwayintoeverythought.WheretheMind goestheheartwillfollow,soprettysoonyou’llfind yourselfsubmittingtopeerpressure.Itmayseem insignificant,butthisisthetruestformofcowardice. Theselittlechoicesformhabits.Onceyou’reusedto takingtheeasywayoutofsmallproblemsyou’llfind yourselfdoingthesameinimportantones.
Themostimportantthingaboutcourageisthatitisa choice.Thechoicetoputyourfearsasideevenwhen youdon’twantto(youneverwill),becauseyouknow somethingelseismoreimportant...
Thethingaboutchoicesisyoucanchangethemany time.Atsomepointineveryone'slife,theyrealizethey havechosenthecoward'swayout.Theyspiralbecause theythinkthatthey’restuckwiththesechoices.We’re not.Wearefree.WearefreetochooseGodatany secondonanyday.Therewillalwaysbeconsequences forgoodandbadchoices,buttherewardsaresweeter whenyourconscienceisclear.Thebravestthinga personcandoismakethelittlechoicesright.
RachelLoizeaux HilgerHigherLearning 10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
ANEWLIFE Elizabethkneltonthecarpet,alargecardboardbox ofornamentslyingopeninfrontofher. Assheunwrappedadarkblueglassornament,atear sliddownherpalecheek.Sherememberedhowher husbandhadhandedhertheornamentjustthelast year,hiseyestwinkling.
ThegoldendrawingonitofMary,Joseph,and BabyJesushadglistenedinthedimlightcomingfrom theChristmastree.
“Igotthisforyou,Iknowyoulovecollecting ornaments.”hehadsaidearnestly.
Now,thisornamentmeantmorethananythingto her.Shethumbeditssmoothglasssurface,hertears fallingfreely.
“Mommy?”
Elizabethturnedslowly,wipingthetearsfromher eyes.
“Yes,Will?”
“Whyareyoucrying?”
“Oh,It’snothing.”
“ButMommy,Idon’twantyoutocry!”Fearful tearsescapedtheeyesofthefive-year-old.
ElizabethsighedandgatheredWillintoahug.
“ImissDaddy.”Will’smuffledvoicebroughtmore stingingtearstohereyes.
“Metoo.Butlet'snotdwellonthepast,comeon, helpmehangtheornamentsonthetree.”
Theverysamethingshetoldhersonnottodoshe didherself...
Buthowcouldsheforgetwhathappenedjustafew monthsago?Howcouldsheerasethememoryofher husband’sface,drawnwithpain,ashelayhelplesson thehospitalbed?Shewearilyhungtheornamentson thetreeasitsplasticsmellmadeherfeellightheaded.
Afterhangingthelastornament,shelookedaround hermessyhouse.Cardboardboxeswerestrewnacross thefloor.Lunch’sdirtyplateswerelyingchaoticallyin thekitchensink,andthecat’sfoodbowllayonitsside, itscontentsspilledalloverthebrownceramictiles. Threemonthsago,thekitchenwouldhavebeen spotless.Thediningtablechairswouldn'thavebeen scatteredacrosstheroom.Butthatwasallbecause Keith,herhusband,wouldhavebeencominghome fromwork.Butshedidn’tcareaboutthehouse’s appearancesincehe'dnevercomehomeagain.
“Gramma!”Suddenly,Willwasrunningtothe doorasthedoorbellsangoutinitscheeryvoice.
“Hello,Mom.”Elizabethfranticallyattemptedto fixhertangled,brownhairandsmoothenthewrinkles onherkhakipants.
“Elizabeth,howareyoudoing?”Elizabethnoticed hermother’sconcernedface.
“Surviving.”Elizabethtriedtosmilebutfailed miserably.
“Well,you’resettinguptheChristmastree,that’s good.”
“Justtryingtobringsomehappinessintothe gloom,butitisn’tworking.”Shesighed. Mothersmiledgently.“Ibroughtsomebread.”
“Icantell.”Theheavenlyscentoffreshlybaked breadhelpedcomfortElizabeth.
“So,haveyoubeentochurchlately?”Motherasked casually.
“NotsinceKeithdied.”
“Elizabeth,youshouldgo.Itwillhelpyou.”
“Idon’tneedhelp.”
“Elizabeth,listen.Youneedhelp,andonlyGodcan giveit.Lookatyou!Irememberwhenyouwerea teenager,yourhairwasneveramess,yourroomwas alwayscleanandorganized,andtheshadeswerealways up,lettinginthelife-givingsunshine!Nowlookat yourself!”
Elizabethcouldn'ttakeitanymore.Shesatdownin achairandsobbed.
“I–Ijustcan’t–livewithouthim!” Willrantohismotherandwrappedhischubbyarms aroundherleg.“I’maliveMommy,you’realivetoo. AndDaddyisn’there.”
ElizabethsmiledatWillsadly.Hesomehowknew howtobrightenupeventhesomberestday. MotherwalkedtothebookshelfandfoundaBible. Withthesleeveofhergreencottonblouse,shebrushed awaythedustthathadsettledafterthreemonthsofno use.
“Oh,Gramma!Canyoupleasereadmethestoryof DavidandGoliath?Mommydoesn’twanttoreaditto meanymore…”Will’slightgreeneyeslooked pleadinglyupathisGrandma.
Elizabethsmiledsadly.Itwastrue.Shewanted nothingtodowithGodanymore.
“Well,whataboutreadingitlater?Iwanttoshow yourmommysomething.”Motherlaughed. “Okay.”Will’sfreckledfacelookeddowncast.
ThesoundoftheBiblepagesflippingbroughtback painfulmemoriesinElizabeth’smind.Keithhad alwaystriedtofindmeaninginhislifeinmanyplaces. Hehadtriedalmosteveryreligionandfinallyhad landeduponChristianity.HeboughtaBibleandbegan toreaditeverynightinbed.Butsincehisdeath,his Biblehadlaidunused.Shehadtriedtoforgetallthese memories,buttheyhurtherdeeply.
“Psalms55:22says,‘Castthyburdenuponthe Lord,andheshallsustainthee:Heshallneversuffer therighteoustobemoved.’Elizabeth,”Motherlooked intoherdaughter’sdeepblueeyes,“PraytoGod,He willtakeallyourburdens.Hewillhelpyouhealifyou giveitalltoHim.”
Suddenly,Elizabethremembered.
WhenKeithwasinthehospitalafterthecarcrash, hetoldmesomethinghesaidIwasnevertoforget.Yet Istillforgot.I’vebeentoobusywithmygriefto remember.Hesaid,“IfIdie,pleasemakesureyou followGod’spaths,Eliza.I’msureit’sthetruth.Take Willtochurch.Please.”
Elizabethfingeredthemangowoodtable.Shefelt hermindwasfightingagreatwar.
“I’llthinkaboutit.”Shestoodupandstumbledto herbedroom,tearsburninghereyes.
Shegrabbedafauxfurblanketanddroppedonto herbed;memoriesshehadbeentryingsohardto forgetflashingthroughhermind.Thewonderful vacationstheyhadtogether.Theencouragingwordshe spokewhenshewasfeelingdown.Elizabethgaveup tryingnottothinkaboutKeith.Shejustlethermind driftfrommemorytomemory.
Will’sdistantgiggleashelistenedtoastoryfrom Motherbroughtherbacktoreality.Keithhadalways wantedtogotochurchbutneverhadthechanceto. Elizabethtookadeepbreathandstoodupslowly. “I’lldoitforKeith,”Elizabethwhisperedwith determination,“I’llgotochurch.”
JesseniaTonn HilgerHigherLearning 10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
EPIDEMICSINPHOTOGRAPHY Amaninoxidizedarmorheavesagainsttheocean sway.Helungesfortheairlockhandleandenters.Inthe mirrorabove,hisgraystubbleandwrinklesreflect unpleasantly.Todayhasbeenslow:thesirensarequiet, thefisharedocile,andtreasureisslim.Hisonlyfindwas atiarafragmentfilledwithtinyemeraldssurelymadeof paste.Hetossesitinthepileonhiswaytodinner.
Thecraftcontainsmanylargewindowsof indestructibleglass,thoughthelowerdecksonlyhave smallportholes.Thegrandceilingisentirely transparent.Walkingaroundupthere,onemightgetthe impressionheisfloatingaimlesslyandalonethroughthe ocean.Artificialsunlightfloodseachroom.Itgivesthe oceanaperpetualsenseofnighttimeincontrast.
Hehasspentsomanysighsinthesehalls,andthey stillechowitheachfootstep;thatis,ifhecanhearthem. Quietissorareinsidesubmarines.Wheneachsoundcan rollawayanddissolveintothewaterlikeitneverexisted, peopletendtofillthesilence.
Somethingiswrongtoday. Heknowsitthemomenthewalksinthecanteen, wheremurmursfermentinsteadoflaughter.Thedivers arecrowdedaroundtheglassindrovessolargehecan’t seewhatthey’relookingat.
Someoneatthefrontofthecrowdshouts,“Ghost!”
Someoneelseyells,“Awomanofunearthlybeauty!”
Someoneshovinghiswaytothefrontgasps,“That’s mywife!”
Themansighsagainandturnsbacktothehall.The youngermenoftenmistakesirensforwomen.Theylearn withtime.
Heisn’thungryenoughtodealwiththeirnonsense andreturnstothebarrackstogotosleepearly.Hekisses thephotoofClarissalikealwaysandcollapsesintobed, notbotheringtoremovehisgrayuniform.Andasnight bearson,theothermenstreamin,kissingtheirown memoriesgoodnight.
Thenextdayisamaintenanceday,andhewishesit wasn’t.Theothersclaimtherearemultiplewomen swimmingoutthere,allsayinghellothroughportholes. Fourdifferentmenclaimtohaveseentheirwivesand sweethearts,respectively.Heshakeshishead,wondering ifbacteriahascreptinandmadethecrewdelirious.Or maybeit’saman’sgoodnaturetoseekwomenoftime— especiallymenwhohavebrineforbloodandsometimes can’timaginewhataladylookslike.Maybeit’sno differentthanstaringatwomenpreservedin photographyforhoursonend.Onhiswalktobedthat nighthewatchesthewater’spathofpearlythings,and maybewomentoo.
Severalmendrownthemselvesthroughouttheweek. Itisn’tright.Everyonewhoseesthesephantomsswear theyaren’tsirens.Noneofthesignsarepresent.Still, thecaptainannouncesthatthesirenshaveevolvednew methodsoftrickery,andnewregulationswillbereleased soon.
Helaysonhiscot,turningoverpastshemusthave livedbeforethesubmarine.Thosewhispersofhopethat fillthesubmarinelately,ofwomenlonggonechasing theirloverstothedepths…theymakehimthink.
Hemisseslovemorethananything anembracewas justaswarmasthesun’srays.Submarinesareforbitter men.Butmemoriesneverspoil,hesupposes,tracing Clarissa’sfacefrozeninjoy.
Herpeachycomplexion,lustroushair,starryeyes… Hestartles.
Intheglass,thereisawomanwithapeachy complexionandlustroushairandstarryeyes.
Helooksbetweenthephotographandherspecter laughingandswimmingaboutinapurewhitegown. Hisbunkmateleansdown.“Soyou,believeusnow, huh?”
“Shhh.”
“Alright.”Heretreats.
Sheswirlsaroundindelicatepatterns,reachingto him.
“Whydidyou…”Hisvoicecracks.
Hispalmoutstretchestomatchhers.Shewaves goodbye.
“Don’tgo,”hebegs.
Butshedriftslikesand,andreappearsinanother porthole.Heleapsoverhiscottothenext,shovingthe maninsidetotheground.Thebarrackseruptinchaos. Hegripsthesill.Hereyesdon’tmeethis.Shewaxesinto awispyblonde.Clarissaisgone.Hewhipshishead around thewholecabinisgatheredbehindhim.
Balancingonthebackboardisapictureofthesame blonde,smilingonthebeach.Hesighs.
Theshapeshifter’sfacecontortsinhorror.He smashesthepictureframe.Theownerofthephotolets outastrangledcry.Unflinching,heripsthephoto.The imitationblistersanddissolves.
What’sleftofherflipsovertothenextportholeand stretchesClarissa’sskinoverherself.Heleapsand watchesherhypocritefaceburnashetearshiskeepsake photoapart.
“Everyone!”heshouts.“Destroyyourphotos!Rip themup,throwtheminthefurnace!” Helaysdown,tryingtoblockouttheirprotests. Theordergoesoutthenextmorning.All throughoutthesubmarine,onecanheartheraresound ofcrudemenweeping.Hundredsofphotos,colorand chrome,grainyandpristine,arelost.Andsoaremany womenofmanyeras,dyingmanydeathsoutinthe blue.Thecurseislifted,butnoonecheers.
Hesitsonhisbedallthistime,staringinto approximatelynothing.Hertornfacelaysinhispalm, andtearsstainthethreadsofherweddingdress.
Ayoungermanapproacheshim.“Youknowalot aboutsirens,Iguess.”
“Itwasn’tasiren.Youallwereright,”hesighsin response.
“Thenhowdidyouknowtodestroythephotos?”
“It’sjustamemoryepidemic.I’veseenitonce before.Thattime,wehadtothrowoutouroldfriends fromthesurface.”
“Idon’tseewhatyoumean.”
“It’shardtoexplain,”hesays,wavingtheyoung manaway.
Andastheylostthesunandpolitesocietyandcomfort, nowthey’velostwomentoo.Therearenowomendown intheocean.Butwasn’titnicetopretendforawhile? hethinks.Wasn'titnicetokeepthemsafein photographs?Wasn’tit?
SarahMoss
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 10thGrade,CatherineCox
TENTHGRADE POETRY “WHATICAN’TBE” Itrytoclothemyselfinbowsandribbons. BecausewithoutthemIwouldjustbewearinglinen.
AndIknowsilkisfiction. Forthosewhoaffordasinglepersimmon.
Soabowwillworktohidemyuncertainties. Andribbonstodisguisemyinsecurities.
Maybethenpeoplewillbelieve. Iamworthwhattheyfinallysee.
MadelineJarrett
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 10thGrade,CamillePlatt
WAKING Iwokeupthismorning,gently Brushedahandovermycurtains
Andfellinloveagain.
Thistimenotwiththeboydownthestreet Whoshareshisfencewithmine, OrthecashierattheGas'NGojustdowntheroad. Ifellinlovewiththelightasitdrippedthroughmy window,
Withtheswayingtreesoutside
Andtheice-tintedstreetsunderacloudedsun.
Ifellinlovewithaneternalstretchofblueskyand greengrass
Waveringunderthebreeze, Meadows,
Themailmanashehobbledoutofhisvan Andanoldwomanlaboringalongthesidewalk, hunchedoveracane.I
FellinlovewitheveryoneI'venevermet. Ifellinlovewithmymother'scadence, Howearlymyfatherwenttosleep, Withthewaymydogcoweredinthedarkandhowmy catstretcheditspawupwards
Totouchthelight,likeAdamreachingforGod. Ifellinlovewiththeworldagain
Thewayachildfallsinlovewithdew-strickenladybugs
Clamberingalongthesidewalk. Ifellinlovelikebitingconcrete, Metallicbloodpoolingunderyourlip, Toooverwhelmingtofeel.
Iwokeupthismorningandranmyhandovermyface, Whole,here,now, Watchedthefracturedlighttouchmywallsand Thegreyskyopenup. Iwokeunderclouds ButallIsawwassunshine. IslaWilson
SIX IfImetmysix-year-oldselftoday, Howwouldthatgo?
WhatwouldIdo?
WhatwouldIsay?
WhatwouldItellher?
WouldIwarnherofthefuture, Ofthebadthingsyettocome?
Or…wouldInottellheraboutthenegativething? WouldIletherbenaive, Tokeephavingfun?
Becausemysix-year-oldselfbelievedthatnooneelse wouldleave.
Shebelievedthattheworldwasapeacefulplace. Wouldsherecognizeherself,wouldsherecognizeour face?
EventhoughI'velearnedsomuchsincethen, Gonethroughsomuchsincethen, And,almost10yearshavepassed… IwouldgiveeverythingIhaverightnow Toviewlifehowshedid,throughhereyes. Idon'tenjoyseeingtheworldforwhatitis. Ithinkthatifshesawitthroughmyeyes,shewouldbe Terrified,Scared,andDisappointed. SoactuallyIdon’tthinkIwouldtellher. Shedoesn'tdeservethat.
Sheneedstobeakidwhileshestillcan, Becauseshereallydidn'tgetthatlong…
SavannaMullis OoltewahHighSchool 10thGrade,MelanieCollins
THEBATTLEABOVETHECLOUDS Abovetheskyandtheclouds,aboveitall, Thethunderingaroundme, Thelightningflashes;muzzleflashes, Thesuddenonsetofrigormortis, Thesmellofblackpowderandsmoke, Andthemendeadanddying;whymustthisbe?
TheUnionlinesadvance, TheConfederatemenretaliate, Afreshbrigadefallsandincomesanotherstalemate, Theflagsofbothnationsabovethebattlefield, Onlyonewouldburneventually, Theothershonebrighterthanthemorningsun; Carriedineagle’sbeakandLatinphrase, AmericatheBeautifulthatfallsaswedivide…
Cannonshotsringoutandmyearsgonumb, Theycarednotaboutthemenwhohadtodie! Whohadtodieforwhattheybelieved, Forfreedomortheirrightsunopposed, Butevenso, TheUnionlinespushedagainwithbayonets, Punchedhardandpuncturedrebelchests, Butnotwithoutcasualtiesonbothsides, Evisceratedandlefttodieonthemountain, Thepinnacle;thedomainofGodandHisKingdom, FromwhereHewatcheswithtearyeyes;
Theprimrosepathforpoliticians, Thetrickeryinthefaceofwar,
Theymust’vehearditall, Thefightcontinuedintothenight, Impetuouslybysuccesses, Erraticallybyfailures andsoonenoughJohnnyRebfellback, AndtheUnionsecuredthemount,butatwhatcost? Nearly2000dead,allthoseliveslosttosecureamountain, Thatneverwouldseecombatagain.
“Warneverchanges”, Theysaythatquiteabit, Buttheyarerighttoassumethat;righttobelievethat, BecauseAmericadidn’tchange, Throughthefogandgutsandgrit, Laythesoulsofmenlonglosttotime, Butthatisfine;weneverhadaproblem withcausingwarswhenwewantedto; WithCanada,Mexico,andlaterSpain, Itwasonlyrightthatbythatpoint, Thatweeventuallyfoughteachother.
Soasweleavethisbarrenmountfullofdeathlysilence, Thearbitraryfactorsallpointtowardstheviolence, Andtheworstpartofitallisthatwedonotjustifyit, Weonlypointtowardsourselvesandclaimthatwe’rethe brightest.
XanderBorden
BoydBuchananSchool 10thGrade,ElizaCarpenter
BUGCOLLECTOR ForsolongIhavebeenacollector
Ofoldbottlesofbeautifulthings
IsayI’lltrysomethingbetter
Butmyfavoritefeelingshavewings
Thereissomuchbeautyinexistence
Igoouttogatheritbyday
Iwatchcagedinsectsfromadistance
Tokeepthemfromgoingaway
Ifoundlovelyfragilebutterflies
ThatIchaseandpintoboards
Ifoundflickeringfireflies
Tojarwiththerestofmyhoards
Theyarefleetinglittlecomforts
AllthejoysIhuntalone
Painfindsusboth,despitemyefforts
Ireallyshould’veknown
ForsolongIhavebeenacollector
Ofoldmemoriesofhappythings
TodayI’lltrysomethingbetter becausemyfavoritefeelingshavewings
I’llgoouttothefieldsthisevening
Andreleasethemfrommycruelty
I’llwatchglowingfliesandbeetlesleaving
Andappreciatetheirflitteringbeauty
VioletteFisher
SignalMountainHighSchool
10thGrade,KristinRobertson
REGRETISTHETHINGWITHDARKNESS Regretisthethingwithdarkness
Thatfollowswhereveryougo
Andonlyshowswhenthesunshines
Notalwaysvisiblebutalwaysthere
Childrenyell,andtrytocatchit
Stomponitwithalltheirmight
Buttheirshadowmoveswiththem
Thatreflectsthetruedarkness
youseenitinmylife
Triedtorunfromit
Butwheneverotherpeopleshine youseetheshadowofregretlookingbackatyou
EllaButterfield
SignalMountainHighSchool
10thGrade,KristinRobertson
“SUMMER’SDAY” Leavesrustlinginthetrees,blueskiesabove
Moistsoil,crackedclay,anarrayofsubstrate
Rootstwinedintoknotsunderthesurface
Glisteningbeetles,smallasaneedle
Anombreofbirdsflyingrightahead
Forestvinescrawlingupacrookedbranch
Fieldsofvibrantambertulippetals
Dottedcoralwingsofabutterfly
Bouldersalignedinperfectsymmetry
Rayofsunshineilluminatingearth
Lightreflectingoffcrystalclearwater
Swimmingblurofholographicfishscales
Smoothpebblessinking,swooshingsidetoside
Themossygreenshellofaseaturtle
Thisiswhatasummer'sdayis
JadenEgan
SignalMountainHighSchool
10thGrade,KristinRobertson
CALMNESSTHATTHEOCEANBRINGS Theoceanisaplacewherecalmnesstakesoverstress. Asthewavesrollout,ittakesmyworriesandleavesmy soulatrest.
Asthesaltywaterrushestotheland, Ittakesmyanxiousnesswithitasittakesawaythesand. Thewarmwateroftheoceanonahotsummerday Canmakemefeelanewadventuremaycomemyway.
Andgoingonabikeridethroughthewind Islikeadolphingoingthroughthewateronamorning swim
Awalkonthebeachwhilewatchingwavesrollinone aftertheother
Cantakemymindoffoflittlethingsandalsomy biggesttroubles.
CorieRiggs HilgerHigherLearning 10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
ODETOMYMOTHER WhenIwasagirl Iwasadreamer Iwasareader Iwasahider Butneveraseeker
Therewasawoman Shewasmyhero Shehadnocape Shewasmyangel Shehadnowings Shewasmyhandtohold AndI’llneverletgo
Shekissedeverybruise,everyskinnedknee Toldmeshelovedmeendlessly WhenIcried,shebrushedawayeverytear WhenIwasscared,shecarriedmethrougheveryfear WhenIfeltlost,herlovewasnear Sheledmeoutoftheguilt,thepain Outofthedarkthathasnoname Handinhand,shebroughtme,andIcame
Outofthedarkness,outofthenight Intothemorning,intothelight Sheshowedmetheway AndnowIhaveaFather I’llletherguidemeaslongasshewill Andwhenshe’sgone,she’llbewithmestill Whenitcomestolove,she’slikenoother
Becauseshe’smymother
EllaGuice HilgerHigherLearning 10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
THEFOREST’SCURE Goinghomeafteralongtest, Allflustered,befuddled,andstressed, Nevermindthesaddle–Ijustgetonmyhorse’sback. Weridetowardsnature’sheart, Nothingpeacefuldoesitlack, Nature’sadmirablepieceofart. Thesunsoftlyglowsonmygelding’smane, Settlingtenderlylikeahalo, AsIgavemyhorsefreerein. MillionsofButtercupsalldressedinyellow, Danceinthesoft,calmingbreeze, Makingthemlooksoftandmellow. Abuzzinginmyears–it’sthebees, Onthedelicateflowerstheyland, Thenflythroughthescentedairwithease. Aswetrotthroughthisforestwonderland, Mygeldingtosseshisprettyhead, Andonmylips,theregrowsasmile–Forallmystressandvexationfled. Nature’sgentletouch, Filledwithhappinessandjoy, Makesone’ssorrowsfleewithjustacalming,gentle nudge.
JesseniaTonn
HilgerHigherLearning
10thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
Idon’tknowifI’llevergetusedtomybirthdaysbeingwarm September28th,andtheleavesdon’teven thinkaboutcoloringgold,like womenbeforeadancewhoareyet topicktheirdressesandonlybegin unravelingmakeupfromtissue-wrapped boxes.
AndonlyinNovember doesitbegintolooklikethefall Iwasbornin.
PerhapsI’vejustbeen pretendingtobesixteen,andonly whenthetemperaturedropstoten orelevencelsiuscanIcallmyself older,thetitleI’vegrabbedonto likelichen,andthegirlwhosaw properautumn?Fahrenheitwaseven moreforeigntomethen,andIreally didn’tknowanything,didI? ButatleastIknewautumn.Iheldoutmyhand whenIturnedsix,seven,eightandletit pullmein.AllIdoiscomplainnow, butIusedtoinventanewkindofcreature toliveinthatcoldkindofautumn. God,Imissit.Afterautumncamewinter no,notthecold,rainy,foggysoupthat definesChristmas-timehere,butawinter sowhiteyoucouldbarelyseeyourown footsteps,andawintersocolditturned yourcheeksredascherries. Andno,notthesweetcherriesthattaste
likelipstickandperfume,butthesourkind theytellyounottoeathere,butthekind thatgrewwhenIknewcoldautumns, whenIwasbornincoldautumn, inaworldwherethetrees beggedtodecoratethemselves inapricotpinksandcarrotyellows andinaworldthatIwasn’tawareof andinaworldofnumbhandsand largestonesonwhichIstood,waiting. Can’tyouseeher?She’swavingatme andI’msureneverthoughtthatshe’dbe wearingat-shirtonherbirthday.
ChattanoogaHighSchoolCenterforCreativeArts 10thGrade,CatherineCox
AnastasiyaSankevich
WONDERISACHILD Wonderisthechildinthelibrary
Sittingwithabookintheirlap
Openingpagesandadmiringcovers
Imaginingplacespeopleadventure
Wonderisthechildwholooksupatthestars
Lookingforsomethingextraordinaryandspecial
Findingawholenewwayofviewingtheworld
Imaginingplanetsandnewplacestogo
Wonderisthechildwhosedreamistoexplore
Wantingtodiscovernewplantsandanimals
Waitingforachancetogoseenewthings
Imaginingtheworldoutsidetheirwindow
JaydenBlair
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy
10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
FUNERAL todayisafuneral. thebodyinthecasketlaystill, iwanthertomove,butiknowsheneverwill. herfacelikeababy’s shewearsadressdecoratedwithdaisies. istarttocry, butidon'tknowwhy. iconvincemyselfthatiknowher, buteverymemoryisablur. hercasketisloweredintotheground, iseenoonethereasilookaround. inthisgraveyard,iamalone, besidesthegirlinthegroundwho’snameisuddenlyknow. todayisafuneral butnotoneforme. todayisafuneral forthegirliusedtobe.
JocieLee SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
“SONNETOFSNOWFLAKES” Snowflakesfallfromwinterskieswithsuchgrace. You’dthinktheywerefairiesflutteringby Withshimmeringdressesalllinedwithlace Goingcheerfullywithfriendsastheyfly.
Continuingontheirfestivejourney
Thespecsoficeswirlandglimmerupthere Dancingaboutwithnorushorworry Theyquietlysingandswayintheair.
Wonderfullysmallcrystals–whiteandpure–Wanderaroundlikecalmfishinapond. Swimminginthevastskythatwillendure ‘Tiltheyfindtheirplaceonthegroundbeyond.
Afterallisdonewithnowheretogo Theylaytorestintheunmovingsnow.
FarrahTran SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
THEWOODSOFTENNESSEE ThewoodsofTennessee
Theyseemhollowbutarenot
Similartoageode
Similartoadeadtree
Fullof
Choirsofsongbirds
Singingbeautifulhymns themusicofthewoodssings
Thegrowlofablackbear Loudandthunderous
Powerfulandvaliant
Itsgrowlechoesthroughout
Similartoasiren
NoahBlenden
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy
10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
“STAYGOLD”: Ihavehad
Sometimeforthinkin'
SwoneIwasn'treadytodie
TurnsoutIwaswrong
Itmightsoundcrazy
Buthearmeout
Itmaytakemetothegrave
ButIknowwhatyourpoem'sabout
Ihaveseenapoolofblood
Runcrimsonred
AndIhaveseenthesunrise
Comin'overhead
Findin'beautyinthefold
It'stheonlyway
Tokeepfromgrowin'old
Myfriend, Staygold.
Whenyou'reyoung
Andtheworldisnew
It'seasytoforget
Whenyou'retryin'
Justtomakeitthrough
Likethemorninglight
Andthedawnitbreaks
Youseetheworld
Findingbeautyinthesimplethings
Ihavelookedintoathankfulfather'seyes
Tellin'meI'vesavedhisdaughter'slife
AndI'ddoitallagain
CauseIhavefound
Thebeautyinthefold
Myfriend, Staygold. Lookin'back
AtthelifeI'vehad
Iholdontothegood
CauseI'vemademypeacewith
Allthebad
Sixteenyears
Lookatallwe'vedone
Wouldn'ttradeitfortheworld
Don'tyouknowthatwe're Theluckyones?
I'vehadmoretolove
Thatmany'veneverknown
Andthatloveliveson
NomatterwhereIgo
Weallwillmeetourend
Nomatterifwemeetit
Youngonold
Myfriend,staygold
There'sstillalotoftime
Tomakeyourselfwhatyouwant,Ponyboy
There'sstillawholelottagoodintheworld
TellDally,Idon'tthinkheknows
Findin'beautyinthefold
It'stheonlywaytokeep
Fromgrowin’old
Myfriend,staygold
Myfriend, Staygold. AliWheeler
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
“AWALKINTHECITY” Ting,tang,toes,andheels, Resonanceamplifiesandconceals. Thecacophonyofcarsandflockstakeflight, Peoplemurmuringaround. Breezecarriesasoftsound, Soundsofanavalanchetrain, Streetlightshumsomewhere, Somewhereinthedarkwithlesslight. Everyfootsteppaysacomplimentinthedark, Andthecityoverflowsintherhythmofitsfootsteps. Busypeoplebustlebywithoutlookingback, Theirquicknessiswater,thatfillsthestreets.
JosiahSluss SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
ACAROLER’SPRAYER Onthecold,clear,nightcarolerssing. InthemiddleoftownsingingoftheKing. Thewholetownstopstogatherinthesquare, Tohearthesoft,sweet,soundfilltheair.
Wrappedinthemagicofharmony, Abovearethestars,shimmering,silently. Asvoicesrisetheypeacefullyflow. Theworldstands,sostill,soslow
BreeSchneider
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 10thGrade,CorleyHumphrey
ELEVENTH GRADEPROSE Lightgiveslife.Thetreesswayinginthewind,the grassinyourfrontyard,andevenyourpets,lightgives themlife.Lightgivesmelifeinmanydifferentways,it alwayshasforyears.Goingbacktoyoungeryears,I wouldwakeuptoablastoflighttomypreviously fastenedeyes,andIwasfilledwithdreadbecauseitwas timeforschool.Theunexpectedflashoflightwould sendmeintoagrouchyyetwillingmoodtogetupand getreadybecauseIknewifIdidn’ttherewouldbe worsethingstocome.Walkingoutsideandfeelingthe sunhitmyeyesandskinwouldgivemeasenseoflife fortheday.“Haveagooddaymylittlerayof sunshine”,IheardmymomsayasIwalkedoutthe door.ThenIwouldarriveatschool,whereallthelights werealwaysbrightandblastingintomybrainandwhat feltlikeintomysoul.ThencominghomeIwouldgo outsideandplaywithmyfriendsonthetrampoline untilthesunwentdown.HereIvaluedthelight, stayingoutsideforaslongaspossible,laughingasI sang“deadman”forthemillionthtime.
But,asIgrewupandintomyearlyteenageyears andbegantohavemoresayinmyownenvironment,I stuck onto theideathatlightwouldbetheendofme. ItwasabouttimethatIgotaroommakeoverandsoI did. Everythingwasdark,blackoutcurtainsthatwere alwaysshut,NOBIGLIGHTEVER,notevensmall pocketsoflightaroundmyroom,andworstofall,my skinwouldnever seethelightofday unlessitwas absolutelynecessary. Iwas essentiallya vampire. Lighthadnomeaningtomeanymore.Ineverwent outsidetoplaywithmyfriends,butyoucouldfindme lockedawayinmyroom,layinginbedwatchingTV. CONTINUED....
AsthiswentonIfeltitstartaffectingthewayIfelt aboutlife.Alwaysfeelingmiserable,neverwantingto doanythingbutstayinside,eatmyheartout,andfeel badformyself.AtthispointIfeltmorelikemyself duringthewintermonths,cold,dark,andsad.
Thankfully,thepeopleclosetomesawwhatIwas doingtomyself.Myfriendsgrabbedmebythe shouldersandforcedmetolookinthemirrorandsee whatIwasdoingtomyself.Becauseofthem,Irealized thatcompletelyshuttingoutlightfrommylifewas destroyingme.Iwassocaughtupinmyownfeelingsto realizewhatistrulyimportant,actuallyliving.So,likea bearcomingoutofhibernation,Islowlystartedto forcemyselftogooutsidemore.Feelingthesunnyrays onmyskin,soakinginallthevitaminDmybodyhad beenmissingforsolong.Ifeltmybodyandbrain readjustingtothenaturallight.Goingoutsidemore often,Ibegantofeellikemyselfagain.Keepingmyself fromthelightIfeltlikeawiltinghouseplant.AsI begandefrosting,Ilovedwatchingtheworlddefrost withme.Notonlyseeingtheoncenakedtreesbeginto sproutwithgreenleavesandseeingtheflowerspopup outwhatseemednowhere,Istartedtoinitiatehangouts withmyfriends,Ilistenedtohappiermusic,andoverall Iwasmorecontentwithlife.Ifeltliketheflowers suddenlygrowing,thetreeswiththeirnewlysprouted leaves,andthegrassgrowingbackfromthefrozenover blades.
EllieYork
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 11thGrade,CamillePlatt
AGOD-DRIVENAESTHETIC Inthepreviousyear,Ihadthewonderfulopportunity to,forhalfofasemester,attendaschoolinwhichthe focalstudywasonChristendomhistory.Duringmy attendancethere,oneofmyfavoritetopicsof discussionwasontheoldChristianaesthetic.Haveyou everwonderedwhychurchesandcathedralsin Europeancountriesaresoextraordinarilybeautiful? Haveyoueverenteredanoldchurchand,upon observingthewonderfulintricaciesandglorious artwork,thoughttoyourself,“Huh…Iwonderwhythey builtitlikethat…?”ThereasonwhytheChristiansof oldconstructedanddesignedthesethingsthiswaywas duetothevaluetheyplacedupontheirvisualaesthetic. TheearlyChristiansheldTheLord’screativityinvery highregard;somuchso,thattheydeemedit disgracefulto,whentheycreatedthings,nottryto glorifyTheLordinattemptingtoimitateHis infinitelyartisticmind.Lookattheworldaroundyou… anyonewithapairofeyescanseeithasabrilliantand detailednature.TheChristianswhocamebeforeus understoodthiswell,andso,ineverythingthey created–whetheritbeliterary,artistic,architectural, etc.–theydidsoforthegloryofTheLord.Thisiswhy evensomesimple,old,Medievalhouseswillbear uselessattributesofartthatoffernopracticality;itis simplytheretohonorTheLord’screativity. Archeologistshaveevenfoundsomemedieval doorknobs(althoughnotallofthemcameoutof Christiancraftsmanship,somewerepaganinorigin) thatcontainhundredsofartisticdetailsdepicting abstractgeometricalshapes,animals,people,andmany otherthings!
CONTINUED....
Now,whydoIbringthisup?Whyisthissoimportant? Well,theoldChristianaestheticwascarefullydesigned toglorifyGod,inspirehopeinthosewholookedupon it,andhelpredirectpeople'sattentionbacktotheheart oftheGospel.Doesthemodernaestheticachieveany ofthesethings?No,itdoesnot.Whenyouwalk throughpracticallyanycityinAmerica–alongwith manychurches–youreyesarealmostalwaysplaguedby aplethoraofdreadfulmodernart.Theworldhasallbut forgottenthevalueofGod-inspiredcreativity,andin doingso,forgottenthenameofTheLordaltogether. Now,keepinmind,IamaNon-denominational Christianwhoattendsaverymodernchurch,andthat issomethingIamperfectlyfinewith.WhyamIok withthisinspiteofmypreviousremarks?Becauseeven mychurchattemptstocreate–withinamodern landscape–ahallowedandGod-reminding environment.Therefore,itisnotasifItakeissuewith theinherentnatureofthemodernaesthetic,butrather inthewaythatitisapplied;evenamodernstyleofart canbecarefullycraftedtoglorifyTheLord.So,itis notsomuchtheAncientChristianartstylethatIargue werevivewithintheculture–despiteitsinarguably spectacularqualities–butitisinsteadthevaluesofthat artformthatIamproposingwereturntooursociety. Ifweworkhardenough,andifChristianspersistently strivetobringavalueofBiblicallyrootedcreativityto ourculture,then,perhaps,justastheChristiansofold, wetoocanenjoyaGod-drivenaesthetic!
MalakiKnowlton HilgerHigherLearning 11thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
IfIownedabookstore,itwouldbelocated downtowninBluffView,acrossthestreetfromthe Tony’s.Thestorefrontwouldhaveafriendly,white woodenentrance,completewithanantiquereddoor andagoldendoorknocker.Acrossthedeep, wraparoundfrontporch,blackrockingchairswould offeracozyplacetositandrelax.Openwindowswould treatthegueststothesights,scents,andsoundsofthe bookstore’sinterior.
Asoneopenedthefrontdoor,heorshewouldbe greetedbythewelcomingaromaofcoffeeandold books,aswellasahearty“Heyy’all!”Thebookstore’s wallswouldconsistofwarmlypaintedwoods,withlarge swathscoveredinclassic-ladenshelves.Ratherthan beingexpansiveandcompletelyvisiblefromthe entrance,thestore’slayoutwouldprovideforvarying interconnected“rooms”(theappearanceofsuchgiven byfloor-to-ceilingbookshelves)extendingfromthe foyerinbothdirections,foramoreintimateshopping experience.InfashionsimilartothatofProfessor HenryHiggins’library,awoodenspiralstaircasewould ascendfromthecornerofthestoretoaccessthesecond floorwithabalconyviewdownintothecenter:a generous,openareawithacoffeeshop,amplecozy seating,andaginormous,double-sidedstonefireplace.
Variousdedicatedsectionswouldmakeupthecore ofthebookstore.Commongenressuchashistory, romance,andselectadventurewouldsharethearea upstairs.Specialdisplaysdownstairswouldhighlight certainfavoriteauthorsofmine,suchasLouisaMay Alcott,JamesHerriot,andJaneAusten...
Intheseareasonecouldreadaboutthewriter’slife, selectoneofhisorheroriginalbooks,andfind accessories,biographies,andotheritemsrelatedtothat particularauthor.FortheAgathaChristiefans,there wouldbeaunique“CozyMystery”section nothing lessallowed!Last,butcertainlynotleast,averyspecial areawouldbecompletelydedicatedtokids,withstories suchasBeatrixPotter,Eloise,theCrayonbooks,The SecretGarden,Madeline,theShoesbooks,Winniethe Pooh,andtheBobbseyTwinsbooks.Allthiswouldbe togivechildrenanearlyloveoftheclassicsthatwilllast theirentirelives.
Eachoftheabovesectionswouldbespeciallythemed tofitthesubject—JaneAusten’sdisplaywouldhavea regencytouch;theeclecticupstairsshelveswouldbe designedtomirroraclassicBritishlibrary;theCozy Mysteryareawouldlookslightlysuspenseful;andthe children’ssectionwouldhavealighthearted,more brightlycoloredapproach,decoratedwithbook characters.Theinteriorareawiththecoffeeshopand seatingwouldbringtogetheraccesstoallthesedisplays andofferacozyretreatcompletewithantique furnitureandlamplighting.Acrossthestore(projected byspeakersineachsection)softjazzysongswouldplay, suchasTheVeryThoughtofYou,IntheWeeSmall HoursoftheMorning,SunriseSerenade,For SentimentalReasons,AKisstoBuildaDreamOn,An AffairtoRemember,OvertheRainbow,and–of course–GlennMiller’sChattanoogaChoo-Choo!
ThecoffeeshopwouldbenamedSnowWhiteand RoseRed,inhonorofmyaunt(wholookslikeSnow Whiteandlovestea)andmymom(wholookslikeRose Redandlovescoffee)...
AlthoughIpersonallydon’tcareforitsflavor,I absolutelyadorethescentofcoffee,sothatwouldbe theprevalentaroma.Themenuwouldbeinspiredby classicbooks,servingsuchitemsasMarilla’sraspberry cordialandPoirot’shotchocolate,aswellasclassic espressos,lattes,andhotandicedteas.Peachsweettea andgreenteawouldalwaysbeavailable,regardlessof seasonalswaps.Drinkswouldbecomplementedby pastrygoods,soups,andsandwiches.Allthedrinks wouldbeservedinmismatchedantiqueteacups,and onewouldalsobeabletoorderateasamplerfortheir table,completewithavarietyofherbal,black,green, andwhiteteasandapiping-hotantiqueteapot.Seating wouldfollowthewarm-colorspatternwithdark woodentablesandWindsorchairs,butnomorethan threetoatable.Nearbythehugefireplacewouldrun fromtheupstairsceilingtothedownstairsfloor,right downthecenterofthebookstore,alwayswitharoaring fire.AvintagegamedisplayintheSnowWhiteand RoseRedwouldgivecustomersanarrayofboardand cardgameoptions,suchasantiqueClueorMonopoly. Surroundingthefireplacewouldbelargeleather couchesinwhichtorelax,read,orplaygameswitha friend.TheShopAroundtheCornerwouldplay silentlyfromanattractive,old-fashionedstyleTVnear theseating.Large,framedvintagebookcoverswould decoratethearea.
Severalfinalsectionswouldmeetthecustomersas theymadetheirwaytothecounter.Astationerydisplay wouldincludeclassicbook-inspiredplanners, notebooks,totes,bookmarks,mugs,candles,andother paperproducts...
Therewouldbea“blinddatewithabook”rack,where gift-wrappedbookswouldcomewithaunique bookmarkandteasachet,thebookonlydescribedbyits generalgenre.Lastly,averyspecialdisplay—my favoriteofall—wouldcelebratelivingintheSouth, includingsuchbooksasATimetoPlant,TheLady& SonsSavannahCountryCookbook,APlacetoCall Home,andGoneWiththeWind.Theentire DesigningWomenseriesandCDssuchasSouthern Starwouldalsobeavailable.
Thecounterwouldbehomemadeandwooden,with intricatedetailacrossthefront.Therewouldbean antiquegoldencashregisterandseasonalcandleslit nexttoit.EachcustomerwouldreceiveanEmilyLex “TruthforToday”watercolorcardandasweet“Thank youforvisitingus!”Asheorshesteppedoutside,a littlebellwouldring,andthestorefrontwouldread KindredSpirits.
MadisonGoodge HilgerHigherLearning 11thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
ELEVENTH GRADEPOETRY “MAN”ISTHETHINGOFWEAKNESS-
“Man”isthethingofweaknessthatgraspsontotheearthCryingoutforhopeoflifeKnowingnopause-atall-
Andloudest-intravails-isheardHispleadingsongaloudThatHope-thebirdofwarmth Mightalightuponhisheartedshroud-
I’veheardhiminwinter’sdarkofdaysAndinthesweetestofspringYet-never-foramoment'spause Heceasedtoaskthewarmth-ofmywing.
TabithaDeMoss SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 11thGrade,KyndallSquires
METALORE Iawokefrommysolemnslumber
AsIascend,Isighwithrelief
Totheclashofmetalagainstrock’sthunder. Nomoresorrow,nomoregrief. Ah,mytimehascometofinallypart AquietendtotheburdensIweave. Fromthistombofcompactedsedimentandstone
Howlonghaveibeenhere
Wellthatdoesn'tmatternow formylifeIsabouttoignite
Beingrippedfromtheearth seeingthethegoldenraysofthesunatlast Iamtakenabackbythatgreatballofgas
Nextthingiknowiambeingscolded Infire’sgrip,Imettheflame, Mybrittleformwasneverthesame. Firstiwasahammer,thenablade
Cuttingthroughfleshwhatawretchedpain Aharbingerofdeathinthedeadofnight. IhatewhatI’vebecome,abringerofstrife, Allbymyhand,amItoblame?
Latercastedasideasmytaskiscomplete
Likeaphoenixfromtheashesiambornagain Towreakhavocihopeneveragain WhatamIthistimeablade,aspring?
What'sthismyformisgrowing
Whatcouldipossiblebe
Beingweldedtothesideofalargestick? Noitcan'tbehasmytimeonthisplant Abouttoend?
LukeMaharrey SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 11thGrade,KyndallSquires
“THERING” Despitemyrequiemmixingtoward, Ableakinfiniteme, Thehome-boundsea-boyseestheworld, Andjumpsintothesea.
Aringemitsthroughout, That'scalmwhenallisdone, Toputresteverydoubt, Withloveoverthesun.
Observetheringofsilkanddew, Andseethyfruitisgood, Embracingheavenlyjoysofnew, Thatfictionnevercould.
Continueonandoninside, Andliftmybeingoncemore Repeatmyrequiemwitharing Takenoutfrommyshore
EmersonBlackburn SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 11thGrade,KyndallSquires
GRATITUDE IfIweretoexperienceeveryemotionanew, Sitting,andstaringSiftingthroughallfeelings, IfIhadbutonetochoose-Ipickgratitude.
Gratitudeistheblankcanvasofourhearts, Creatinganewslate, Paintinganewpicture, Itrenewstheemotionsofourgreediestparts.
Whatannulsourvisionskewed? Whatrealignsthegiftofjoy?
Notanxiety,norexcitementOnlygratitude.
Resettingourfocusonthegreaterthings, Itkillsthelustofman.
Thankfulthatwearewhereweare, Nottohungerasfutilekings.
Wearefull-blessedbeyondallmeasure. Thoughourworldsayswelie, Sothen,welookonHigh. Thereliesourtreasure.
Sowhycomparehereandnow? Wheremothandrustdestroy. Nothingcancloselycompare, ComparetoHissidewithawoundfromaspear.
ItisforHimIamgrateful.
Ourdirtycanvas,ruinedbyourblackdye, Cakedwiththesootofsinofourownlives, CanonlybecleansedbycrimsonFromblack,tored,torenewedinwhite.
Soeverythoughtthatdoesintrude, Allofourfeelingsandemotions,
Letitnevercoverupthebloodstained-whitecanvasGratitude. JackHarris SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 11thGrade,KyndallSquire
TOTHINKSHENEVERCAMEANDWENT Ionlyknowshecameandwent
Butwhatifshehadstayedwithme?
Thebirdstillsitswithleavesunbent
Mymemoriesaremadewiththee
Ionlyknowshecameandwent
ButhowcouldIbelievethistrue?
Theorchardsstillreflectthescent
Thatmoment’sheavenheldinyou
Ionlyknowshecameandwent—
Butwhatiffatewroteanewbook?
Angelicvisionsinthetent
Yetsheishere;mymindisshook
Ionlyknowshecameandwent
ThisfactIwillnotcomprehend
Theshiningskiesfindnocontent
Untilthisnightmarehasitsend
Theroomreflectsyourbrighteninglight
Life’sfadingoilcannotbespent
Myeyesproclaimtoseethesight
Yetinthenight;youcameandwent
TrentMcCary
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy
11thGrade,KyndallSquires
PICKYOURSPOT Walkingintoalarge,emptyroom, Thescentofpopcornlingersthroughout, Pickyourspot;Yourscarletclothhomeforthenext twohours.
Thelightsbegintodim, Thecurtainsbegintoopen, Glowingpicturesbegintogentlygraceacross, Shiningcolorsandlightsonyourface.
Andsoitbegins.
Emotionsdisplayedonavinylplain. Twoyoungwomenfromdifferentlifestylesbecoming friends.
Amanandhisteamcreatingdestruction. Abrotherfightingeverythingforhissister. Awomanlearningabouttherealworld. Ahauntingspiritwreakinghavoc. Aninterestinggirlmeetingachaoticghost. Adarkfiguresavinghiscity. Anenchantingnanny. Aboyandhismagicstick. Storiesunfoldrightbeforeyoureyes.
YouencounteramagicallandcalledOz, OrmaybeacitynamedGotham. ReelsoffilmroamthehallsofHogwarts, WhilecamerasdancearoundBarbie-land.
Tearsareriversthatflowexcessively, Everyoneleaveswiththeirheartontheirsleeve. Youaresomehowclosertothesestrangers; Youlaughedtogether,youcriedtogether,andyoufelt together.
Yourlifeischangedafteritends. It'sdifferent,it’snew,it'sexciting, Butit’sstillthesamelife,it'sstillyourlife.
Walkingoutintoalargeworld, Blinkingandsquintingattheblindingsunlight. Pickyourspot;Yourbig,bluehomefortherestofyour life.
ElizabethFraker SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 11thGrade,KyndallSquires
ROCKETEER Stuckontheground Littleone, listentotheradio watchthecountdowntick lettherocketblowyourmind. Thestarmanonchanneltwo seehimignitethefuel toliftoffbeyondthebluesky. Letyourdreamsrunwild Littleone, becauseoneday you’llbearocketeertoo
EvanStrand
ChattanoogaSchoolfortheLiberalArts 11thGrade,L.B.Blackwell
LENOREFORGIVESMONTRESOR,WHOMADEA HABITOFDRINKINGAMONTILLADO Myfatherwasamanofevil–stillmyfather,thoughadevil, Mymotherwasasinner–oratleastthat’swhatsheswore. AndI’vetalkedtoallthewisemen,Ihaveaskedandwillask again, IfshemadeitintoAidenn,ifshepassedthatgildeddoor. IfsheliedandwenttoAidenn,andshepassedthatgildeddoor. Forshegavememyname:Lenore
Myloverwasathingofevil–maybethat'swhatmadehim special, Bruisesscatteredonmyneckandblooduponmyfloor. AndIprayedthathe’dgetbetter,andwe’dwalkawaytogether, ButIsupposeIwasafetter.Forhelovesmenevermore. Buthelockedmeupinfetters,andleftmehereforevermore. Istillhearhimcallmyname:Lenore
IguessIwasagirlofevil–thoughIranaroundwithangels, Neverpaidtoomuchattentiontothewarningstheywouldroar. Nowmylover,hehaskilledme(therewasatimeitmighthave thrilledme)
Andmystone-carvedtombhaschilledmebutI’llloveyouever more. Andmytomb,itmayhavechilledmebutI’llloveyouevermore. TrueasmynameisLenore.
MaiaAtkinson Homeschool
11thGrade,SpringKurtz
COLLAPSE Theworldbendsathumanity'shands. Itistornandrippedintoanotherform. Butitcannotexistthisway. Thisdeformation, Deforestation, Distortion, Willleadtoourworld'scollapse. Wehaveshiftedourperceptionofaperfectworldinto anexploitationofnature.
Aschildren,
Wesawtherosethroughrose-coloredglasses. Littledidweknowthepesticideswouldeatatitscore bynextsummer.
Wesawthelittlefinchmakehernestinthetreeover thewinter,
Onlytoseeherhomebedestroyedtomakeroomfora newpowerline.
Wewatchedthetadpolesplayinthepond, Notknowingwhentheygrewolderthatmanyofthem woulddiefromthewater’stoxicity. Wewishwecouldseetheworldthroughtheeyesofa child, Whosenaivetyfilledthemwithwonder. Butwehaveyettostriveforthosewondrousidealsin ourmaturity. Sonowwemustfaceourchoices.
Facehumanitiesmistake, Faceourwarpedreality, Facethefactthatsomethingscan'tbeputback together.
Andinthisacknowledgementfacethefactthatdespite ourattemptstoreverseit, Ourworldmightstillfallapartbecausethecomplex existenceofourworldwassimplynotenoughforus.
DECEMBER LilyBergthold HilgerHigherLearning 11thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
HEYDAD. Ican’trememberyou Irememberrememberingyou justnotYou Igettoldaboutyou thenI“remember” Ihearyoursong andI“remember” Didyouloveitthough?
Ionly“remember”thefight. TheFight. rightbeforeyouwere Gone.JustGone.
I'llseeyouoneday. JustwishitwasToday. IjustwishitwasHere. NotinHeaven. Here.JustHere.
IvyStephens-Burnette HilgerHigherLearning 11thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
TWELFTH GRADEPROSE THISIBELIEVE:BUSYAIRPORTS Theslidingdoorsopenandthesymphonybegins:jet engineshumming,wheelsrollingacrosstilefloors, childrens’screamsmixingwithairportannouncements. Thereisnothingquitelikeit,and,tome,,it'sbeautiful. Ibelieveinabusyairport whereefficiencymeets purpose,andpeoplefromalloverembarkonjourneys asuniqueastheyare.
OneofmyearliestmemoriesofanairportwasJune 2017,thesummerbeforefifthgrade.Thecarridefelt likeaneternity,butwefinallyreachedourdestination: theairport.Aftercirclingthebuildingsapproximately fourtimes,wequicklyparked,grabbedourbags,and ransoastonotmissourscheduledflight.Werushin andaremetbytheTSAcheckpointsign.Agh…my fathersighsinagony,findingthattheestimatedwait timeis56minutes.Meanwhile,Istandtakingitallin, admiringtheATLInternationalsignage,theshuffleof peoplemovingthroughlines,andtheyellsofthe securityofficers.Everyonewasfocusedontheirown thing:thecouplemeltingintoeachotherastheysetoff fortheirhoneymoon,thebusinesspeoplestridingwith urgency,andfamiliesreorganizingsuitcasestoavoid theheavybaggagefee.
ThatiswhenIfellinlove.Thehustleandbustleofan airportisanythingbutstressfultome—it’saworkof art.
Theairportislikeabigassemblyline:everyonegoes throughaseriesofstepsbeforetheycanboardthe plane.Thecheck-incounter,bagdrop,andsecurity linesallserveimportantfunctionsintheairport’s seamlessflow.Nothingiswasted especiallytime. TSAagentsatAtlanta'sInternationalAirportprocess 286,000passengersaday!That’sabout198people beingscreenedeveryminute.Theirwork,though sometimesrudeorrigid,isessentialinkeepingthe integratedairportnetworkrunning.
Airportsarealsohubsofdiversepeopleunitedbya singledesire:togetaway.Sometravelingtosick families,someawaytoDisney,othersheadingtoa seriousbusinesstrip.Eachterminalholdsaunique story.Weareallstrangers,broughttogetherby coincidence,sharingaspaceofanticipationbeforewe eachsetoffonourownpath.Wewillprobablynever seethepeoplewepassbyonthemovingwalkwayorsit nexttoontheterminaltransporttraineveragain.It’sa timeofhumilityandreflectiontorealizethateveryone hasastoryascomplexasyours.It'sareminderthatfor amomentwearesidecharactersinsomeoneelse'slife.
InabusyairportIfindpeacewithmyselfandasenseof connection.Ifindproofthatweallhaveourown uniquestoriesindependentandyetintertwined.Weare allpartofsomethinggreaterthanourselvesandthe airportallowsthattosurface.
Ibelieveinabusyairportbecause,forme,theyare remindersthatweareallmoving,everchanging,and constantlyonajourney,nomatterwhereweareheaded weareallpartofsomethingbeautiful.
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 12thGrade,CamillePlatt
TrentGuess
MIDDLECHILDTROUBLE Warning!Istronglyadviseagainstbecomingamiddle child.Parents,ifyouwantaluckynumberofthree,it maybeso-called"lucky"forthefirstandlast,butitis anythingbutforthemiddlechild.If,inaturnof events,youendupbeingoneoftheunluckyvictimsof thisnaturallyoccurringevent,allIcandoisexplainand prepareyoufortheworst.Youroldestsiblingwill experienceeverythingfirsthandandmostlikelywillbe yourparent'sprideandjoyuntilthey,too,maybe forgotten.
Nomatterthemiddlechildandtheeldest'songoing war,theyhaveoneenemyincommon.Theyoungest! Forgetallpeacewhentheyoungestcomesalong;from nowon,it'severymanforhimself!Eventhoughthe headsofthehousemaybeblindedbytheirdevilish tacticsandfakesweetness,theywillneverfoolus becauseweseeitall.Weoldersiblingsaccidentallyslam adoorandgetslappedintonextweek,whereasthe youngestdoesandbecomesamasterofthehome. Whenitcomestoshopping,itismoredepressingthan enjoyable.Themiddlechildscavengersthroughhandydownsandeverycloset,hopingtofindsomething suitabletowear,andthelittlejoyofthefamilygetsthe newest,hottestthingsjustbecausetheyarethefavorite. Now,theyoungestmightlookuptotheirolder siblings,soifthisoccurs,Isuggestyouusethemwhile youcantogetwhatyouwantbeforetheytearyouapart piecebypiece.
Letmeexplain:youwantfastfood,getthemtoaskfor it,andyousucceedinyourmission;don'twanttogetin troubleforsomething,blameitontheyoungest,and you 'rehomefree.So,intheend,youlearntolivewith thestrugglesandrollwiththepunches.Isayagain,this ismywarning,andbestoflucktoyou,unluckymiddles, poor,unfortunatesouls.
BrynleeTreece HilgerHigherLearning 12thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
ONEDAY Thedaybeganwithafaintstirring,theworldstill quiet,holdingitsbreath,asifreluctanttoletgoofthe night.MaryGreenwokeslowly,hermindcatchingthe edgesofdreamsshecouldnolongerfullyrecall— somethingaboutafield,orwasitthesea?Itdidn’t matter.Shereachedfortheclockonherbedsidetable, itshandspointingjustpastseven,thoughthehour seemedneitherurgentnorimportant.Thecurtains hunglimpagainstthewindows,adullgraylight filteringthrough,thekindoflightthatmadeherthink ofmutedconversationsandunfinishedletters.Shelay stillforamoment,herhandrestingonthequilt,and thought,thisishowthedaybegins:withstillness,with waiting.
Downstairs,thekettlewhistledfaintlyinthe kitchen.Shehearditasshedescendedthestairs,the soundrisingandfallinglikeabird’ssong,andshe thoughthowstrangeitwas,thewaycertainsounds carriedtheirownkindofrhythm,theirownsmall insistence.Theteapotwaswarminherhands,the steamrisingupwardinpaleribbonsdisappearing beforehereyes.Shepouredthewater,watchingit splashagainstthetealeaves,andthoughtaboutnothing inparticular,thoughevenhernothingwasfilledwith fragments images,moments,thingsleftunsaid.She thoughtoftheoldmanwholivedacrossthestreet,how healwayswalkedwithaslightshuffle,asiftheworld beneathhisfeetweretoounsteadytotrust.She thoughtoftheyoungcouplenextdoor,theirlaughter spillingoutthroughopenwindowsinthesummer.
Shethoughtofherownreflection,glimpsedbrieflyin theglassofthekitchencabinet,andturnedawaybefore itcouldsettleintosomethingshedidn’twanttosee.
Themorningpassedinslow,deliberatemovements. Marydressedherselfinthepalebluecardiganshe alwaysworeonquietdays dayswhentheworld outsidefeltlikesomethingtoobserveratherthanenter. Sheopenedthefrontdoor,lettingthecoolairtouch herface,andsteppedontothesmallpatchofgrassthat passedforagarden.Thebusheswereneatlytrimmed, thoughshecouldn’trememberthelasttimeshe’ddone it.Theroses,oncevibrant,nowhungheavywiththe weightoftheirownwilting,thepetalsbrowningthat theedgeslikepageslefttoolonginthesun.She thought,evenbeautygrowstired.
Onthestreet,lifemovedwithitsusualquiet rhythm.Aboywitharedscarfdartedpastonhis bicycle,hislaughterfollowingbehindhimlikeathread ofbrightcolor.Acrosstheway,Mrs.Carterwasout again,puttingsheetsupontheline,herarmsmovingin sharp,practicedmotions.“Morning,Mary,”shecalled out,hervoicecarryingeasilyoverthesmalldistance. Maryraisedahandingreetingbutdidn’tstoptotalk. Shethoughtshemightlater,butnotnow,notwiththe daystillunfoldinginlong,unbrokenstretches.
Shewalkedtohercornershop,herbagswinging lightlyagainstherside.Theshopwasquiet,thebell abovethedoorjanglingsoftlyassheentered.Mr. Pritchard,theshopkeeper,noddedatherfrombehind thecounter,hisglassesperchedlowonhisnose.
“Morning,MissGreen,”hesaid,hisvoiceeven, unhurried.Shethoughtshelikedthatabouthim,the wayheneverseemedrushed,neverseemedtoexpect morethanshewaswillingtogive.Shepickedupaloaf ofbread,asmallwheelofcheese,andatinofcookies. “That’lldo,”shesaid,placingthecoinsonthecounter. Henoddedagain,sayingnothingmore,andshe thoughthowcomfortablesilencecouldbewhenitwas sharedwithoutexpectation.
Bythetimeshereturnedhome,thelighthad shifted,growingsofter,goldenaroundtheedges.Mary satinherchairbythewindow,thebreadandcheeselaid outneatlyonasmallplatebesideher.Shethoughtshe mightwritealetter thereweresomanyshehad meanttowrite—butinstead,shewatchedthestreet, lettinghergazedriftfromonesmallmovementto another.Theoldmanacrossthestreetwasoutagain, hisstepsslow,deliberate,asthougheachonewerea questionthatneededtobeanswered.Shethought,does hewalktogosomewhere,orjusttokeepmoving?She didn’tknow,andshethoughtshemightneverknow, andsomehowthatfeltbothsadandstrangely comforting.
Thehoursslidpastintheirquietway.Shethought abouttheboywiththeredscarf,wonderingifhewas homenow,ifhislaughterstilllingeredintheair somewhere,invisiblebutpresent.Shethoughtabout Mrs.Carter,thewayherhandsmovedwithsuch purpose,andwonderedifthatwasthesecret tokeep moving,keepdoing,sothedaycouldn’tcatchupwith you.
Andshethoughtaboutherself,sittinghereinthis chair,watching,thinking,waiting,thoughshecouldn’t havesaidforwhat.
Byevening,thelighthadfadedtoapale,duskyblue. Marylitasmalllamp,itsglowsoftandwarm,and thought,Marylitasmalllamp,itsglowsoftandwarm, andthought,thisishowthedayends:withquiet,with stillness.Shepouredherselfanothercupoftea,though ithadgrowncoldbythetimeshefinishedit.Outside, thestreetwasemptynow,theworldsettlingintoitself, andMarythoughtshemightgotobedsoon.Notyet, though.Notjustyet.Shesatalittlelonger,listeningto thefainttickingoftheclockonthemantel,and thoughthowstrangeitwas,thewayasingledaycould feelbothfullandempty,likeaboxthatheldonlyair butcarriedtheweightofeverythingunseen.
AnnaNeal SignalMountainHighSchool 12thGrade,Pettit-Shaheen
PEOPLEWATCHING There’sawomaninfrontofmeinlineatWhole Foods.She’sjugglingabasketononearmandacanvas toteslungovertheother.She’smid-conversationwith thecashier somethingaboutthebestwaytocook quinoa andhervoiceiscalmbutquick,likeshe’sused togettingthingsdoneefficiently.Hernavycoatis buttonedneatly,eventhoughit’swarminhere,andshe keepsbrushingstrandsofchestnut-brownhairoutof herfaceinthatabsentmindedwaypeopledowhen they’refocusedonsomethingelse.Iwonderwhereshe’s goingafterthis.
She’sbuyingjustenoughforone—smallportionsof produce,singleservingsofyogurt.There’snoringon herhand,butthatdoesn’tmeanmuch.Maybeshe’s divorced,ormaybeshejustprefersherowncompany.I can’tdecideifshestrikesmeassomeonecontentor someonelonely.Maybeboth.Thatkaleshe’sputting ontheconveyorbelt isitforasaladshe’llmake tonightwhilecatchinguponabook?Orwillshetossit inthefridge,tellingherselfshe’lluseittomorrow,but forgetaboutituntilit’swilting?
Shetalksaboutquinoathewaysomeonetalksabout thingsthey’vereadinfoodblogs,buthaven’tquite masteredyet.Abeginner,butenthusiastic.Thecashier nodspolitely,butitdoesn’tseemlikehe’sreally listening.That’sfine;shedoesn’tseemtoneedhimto be.
Itmakesmethinkshe’ssomeonewho’sgoodatmaking herownmomentum,someonewhodoesn’twaitaround forotherstocatchup.
Behindher,I’mnotreallypayingattentiontomy ownbasketanymore half-fullofsnacksIdon’tneed butIcan’thelpwonderingabouther.Whatdoesshe do?Shehasthatput-togethervibe,butnotthekind thatscreams“corporate.”Ateacher?No,notquite.An artist?Maybe there’sacreativeenergyabouther, subtlebutthere.Thenagain,shecouldbean accountantforallIknow.
Thecashierhandsherchange,andshethankshim withaquicksmile,scoopingupherbaginonefluid motion.She’sefficient,Ithinkagain,butit’smorethan that.There’saquietdeterminationtoher.Asshewalks away,Ipictureherheadingtoasmallapartmentfilled withlight.Akitchenwithspicesarranged alphabetically,butdishesinthesink;noonecanbe perfectlyorganizedallthetime.Maybeshe’lllighta candle,putonmusic,andcookthatquinoatonight afterall.
Assheheadstowardtheexit,Idon’tknowifI’ve learnedanythingconcreteabouther.Butthere’s somethingcomfortinginthenotknowing,inletting herstoryremainunresolved.Ithinkabouthowquick wearetolabelpeople organized,lonely,happy,sad butit’srarelyjustonething,isn’tit?
She’snotjustawomaninacoatbuyinggroceries;she’s awholeworldofcontradictions,noneofwhichI’llever fullyunderstand.
Thecashierwavesmeforwardwithacasualhow’sit going,thekindofquestionyouaskoutofhabit,not trulywantingaresponse.I’malmosttemptedtotell himabouther,tospeakmymind,toseeifhehad pickeduponthesamestory.Butinstead,Ijustsmile andtellhim,“good,”layingmysnacksoutonthe conveyorbelt,asIwatchthewomandisappear somewhereintotheparkinglot.
MiaSchoenly
SignalMountainHighSchool
12thGrade,Pettit-Shaheen
TWELFTH GRADEPOETRY UNDERMINED MyBibleisfallingapartandmaybesoamI
IfIwriteonitspages,isitreallywritingonmyheart?
Openedsooftenit’sfallingapartattheseamsbutreally andtrulyit’snotwhatitseems
Fillingthemarginsyetstillstayingempty
Mistakingknowledgeforwisdom
Myknowledgeisplenty
Highlightedandunderlinedyetallmyeffortsstay undermined
Thenotesonthepagesareyellingsoloud I’mbuyinganewBible
Theinkpensranout
KenleeBurton
HilgerHigherLearning
12thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
ANTAGONESCENCE Itakeastepdownthroughthedoor, Andplacemyfeetuponthefrigidfloor. Mymovementssilent,asalwaysbefore; Ireachtheendofthiscoldcorridor. Now…adistantsound, Asilentcreak. Andsuddenlymystomach’sweak. Ifear,standing,inthishall ThatIamnotaloneatall.
Uprootingthestillness,softlyIcall, Butitwillnotshowitselfatall. Thereisn’tsomethingoverthere. Mynervesbitedown,astarvingsnare. Thoughtsbecomeadrowningsea. Thereisnothingoverthere. Thereisnothingwaiting. Thereisnothingthathearsyourheartbeat. Thereisnothingthatsendsachilldownyourspine. Thereisnothingthatwantstoharmyou. Thereisnothingwitheyesthatpiercemysoul Itcannotseeme, Why?Why?Why? Letmebe.
JohnIvey
HilgerHigherLearning 12thGrade,ShelleyGeorge
YOULIKETOKNOWTHEENDING youliketoknowtheendingofabook beforeyoureadthebeginning andI’mbeginningtothink you ’realittleweird forhowyou’reafraidofyourmind forlosingthethingsyouholddear. Iseethecountlesspolaroidsstrewnacrossyourbed theinkstainedwithinthepagesofyourjournal salientrecollectionsofthepeopleyoulove yourfightagainsttheever-tickingminutesoftime alwaysmoving,butneverenough.
youliketoplayitreckless onehandrestingmindlesslyuponthewheel, yettwoeyesalwaysdouble-checkingyourrearview theyavoidthewarningsignsblinkingsilentlyonyour dash resiliencepoweringyourdesiretofeelalive. Ihearitinthelyricsblasting inmyleftear andyou,yourright
Ifeelitinyourferventgaze, thestrong-willedpassion behindyoursoft-spokencharacter alwaysgiving,nevervaunting.
Iwanttoknowtheendingtoourbook totrulysavorthebittersweetmomentsinbetween
Iwanttoholdontous likeyouholdontoyourphotographs totraveldownthebackroadsoflife alwaystogether,neverapart. thereisnoendingattheedgeoftheworld youreadthestorytorealize thatthepageswillkeeponturning always,forever.
12thGrade,CatherineCox
HARLEYDUST (IMITATIONOF“WHATCAMETO ME”BYJANEKENYON) Iwalkedintothe hot,dirtygarage nexttonana’shouse. Alongwithyourtoolson thewallandjacketshanging onarack,theresitsyour Harleymotorcycleonits kickstand,allblackleather withsilverdetailing. Thevisibledustitcollected madethewearyimpactof yourabsencehitharderthan everbefore.
SaylerMiller
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 12thGrade,CamillePlatt
OLDCLOTHES (ANIMITATIONOF“WHATCAME TOME”BYJANEKENYON) Itookthedusty Tennesseeshirt outofthecloset. Itwasherfavoriteshirt, withstainsfromcooking, shealwaysmadesurewewerefull. Igrievedforherthen, wishingshecouldcomeback justfor5minutes.
SarahMcGill
ChattanoogaChristianSchool 12thGrade,CamillePlatt
WHEREIAMFROM Iamfrombarefeet.
Fromhorsesandguitars.Iamfrom Hotandrainy,busyandempty.
Iamfromwheat Freezingthedough,alwayscold.
I’mfromblueeyesandscaring,fromHannah AndDustin Iamfromthewoodsandwater, Tummyaches,fromswallowinggum Tochildimagination,swallowingaseedmakesitgrow insideofme.
I’mfromBaptist,verystrictagainstallbutstillalittle freedom.
I’mfromNashville,butnativetoIreland. SpaghettiandPizzaalwaysfightingbeneath.
Fromkingsandqueensdyinginwar Theknightsfightingfortheirlives.
Livingineverystate PhotosGalore. Alwaysmoving,neverbelonging
I’mfromafamily,alwaysmoving Alwaysfighting, Itbelongstome.
ElijahBasham
ChattanoogaSchoolfortheLiberalArts 12thGrade,L.B.Blackwell
LÀMHA'CHEARTAIS Fashionthyswordo’Raguel
JoinintheairwithgreatThemis
Forsetiappearsalongtheknell
AsChristhimselfjoinsallthis
Plucktheheartofthesaddenedsoul
Thatmanwhosefamilyfromhimtaken
Fillhimwithangerlikethebull
Sohecanavengethoseforsaken
Holdthyhandstotheheavens
Seeyourfamilyintheheap
Racealongsideyourbrethren
Aghostofdeath,asoultoreap
Gobeforethatexiledprince
Withheartsoftandhandsrough
Thatbornnotofwoman,shallnotwince
Becomevengeance,dearMacduff
ConnorBowman
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy
12thGrade,TarynHumphries
INTHEEYESOFLADYMACBETH Ifirstcalleduponthespiritsforhelp, Tomakemyhusbandharshandtodohispart, Iencouragedhimforhisownself-help, Thefateofthenightwasinhisheart. Thepowerthefutureholds, Forhimtotakethelight, Lettingthewitchesplansunfold, Whataterrifyingsight. Hewasfilledwithdarknessinhissoul, Ahungerwhichwasfedbyblood, Headswillroll, Andtherewillcometheflood. Fromanobletoanevildesire, Macbeth’sheartchangedasdidmine, AloveIcannolongertire, NowIseekhelpfromthedivine.
BrookeBolton SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 12thGrade,TarynHumphries
APOEMABOUTMALCOLM TheeldestsonofDuncan, Thetrueheirtohisslainfather’sthrone. Stolenfromhimbyatyrant, AmurdererfromGlamisandCawdor. MarchingnowthroughBirnamWood, Thearmyfollowsitstrueking. DescendinguponDunsinanecastle, Toreclaimwhatisrightfullyowed.
CianSyring
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 12thGrade,TarynHumphries
AFOOL Itbecomesquiteanannoyingfeeling
Toholdyourbreathfortheirgrandentrance
Whilenooneelseseemstobelistening
Butyoucan’thelpcheckingeverysecond
Youaren’tonetostumbleoveryourwords
Youcan’tstandfeelinglikeafoolforlove
Butwhenyoureyesmeeteverythoughtisblurred
Silentlystressing,yourheartstartstorush
Finally,theyarrived,welltheytexted
Sometimesitstartswithasimplehello, Orstraightintohowtheweekended
RegardlessI’llreadalltheirhighsandlows
SomaybeIambecomingafool
ButatleastI’monlyafoolforyou
LindsayGlass
SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 12thGrade,TarynHumphries
“SUNSETSBYTHEOCEAN” Broken,thisworldis, Quicklyfoundoutthroughadulthood. Theyoungwanttobeoldtogainresponsibility, Theoldwanttobeyoungtoforgetresponsibility.
Tohavethemindofachild, Irresponsibleyetinnocent. Theremustbeawaytofeelthiswayagain, Whilstnotdrivingmyselfinsane.
LookingbackatthejoyIfound, Asakidinthesandbox, Somethingaboutthenatureofsand, Stillremindsmeofmyyouthfulmind.
Ijourneyedtothecoastinsearch, OfsomethingIdidn’tknowyet. Thatwhichhopefully, FillstheholeinmeIcan’tidentify.
Iarriveatthebeach, Andwalkalongthewater’sedge. Thesandbetweenmytoes, Saltintheairandinmylungs.
There’shightideandlowtide Sunriseandsunset
Paradiseintendedtofind AndparadiseIsurefound.
Pinkyellowskies
Mirroredatopthewater’scoolsurface. Aloneinthisparadise, Freetoreachthedeepestofthoughts.
Weightonmyshoulders, Thepressuresofwork,debt,relationships, Washedawayasthetidefalls, Andthesunsets. GavinDavidson SilverdaleBaptistAcademy 12thGrade,TarynHumphries
