Young Southern Student Writers - Winners

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2018 Winner’s Booklet Grades 6-12 1

Introduction What a joy it’s been to chair this year’s YSSW contest—from interacting with our region’s outstanding teachers and facilitating judging at UTC to assembling this collection of our winning submissions. All is done with an eye toward promoting the literary arts and the creative energy of young writers. Reading the submissions this year, in my own experience as a judge and in reports from other readers/judges, has been an exercise in both humility and hilarity.

The submissions, especially the winning submissions that follow, demonstrate exceptionally strong writing as they likewise provide a glimpse into the wild imagination of young minds.

So, I thank this year’s young writers and their teachers! You’ve given me much to laugh about, much to enjoy, and much to appreciate in your good work.

Many thanks, too, to the Board of Directors and staff of the Southern Lit Alliance, particularly Lynda LeVan (Executive Director). Lynda deserves our thanks for her generosity and for her support of this area’s outstanding young writers. Leadership at the Southern Lit Alliance and its partnership with UTC’s Department of English combine to lift up and celebrate the literary arts in our region. I am grateful for the Southern Lit Alliance as a partner in this contest.

I also thank this region’s dedicated teachers, K-12, who work tirelessly to instill in young minds and hearts the value of literature and creative writing. I am grateful for their efforts as they teach young authors to enjoy the craft of writing. Without our elementary, middle grades, and high school English/Language Arts teachers, along with parents and guardians, we would not have such fine work from these young people.

I am also grateful to this year’s readers and contest judges. It is true that every submission is read by a faculty member in UTC’s Department of English. Our faculty serve in this capacity with pleasure. In fact, it’s not uncommon to hear our teachers sharing with one another submissions that are especially funny, creative, or inspiring. It’s another way in which we contribute to this wonderful city and this region. I appreciate the time and care with which my colleagues read every submission. It is worth noting that more than 3,600 students from schools in the Chattanooga area and beyond submitted entries this year, so it’s no easy task to manage, but our judges did so this year once again with grace and enthusiasm.

Finally, I thank Rebecca Churchman and Noelle Powers, two outstanding undergraduate students in UTC’s English program. Rebecca and Noelle worked tirelessly to facilitate judging, to compile the winning submissions, and to create this year’s winner’s booklets. They have spent countless hours managing the contest and collecting the winning entries for this publication.

Indeed, they managed this substantial project with grace, with sincerity, with maturity, and organizational skills that that we typically find only in experienced professionals. I’m grateful for their outstanding work and their attention to detail.

Now, read and enjoy!

Joe Wilferth, UTC English Professor and YSSW Contest Chair 2

Table of Contents Grade 6 Poetry

Amaleddine ................................................ 6 Campbell .................................................... 7 Coleman ..................................................... 8 Creekmore .................................................. 9 Gillispie .................................................... 10 Howell ...................................................... 11 Huegerich ................................................. 12 Kevin K .................................................... 13 Lin ....................................................... 14-15 McMahon ................................................. 16 Merryman ................................................. 17 Mosley ...................................................... 18 Nelson ...................................................... 19 Nguyen ..................................................... 20 Patel .......................................................... 21 Porter ........................................................ 22 Salazar ...................................................... 23 Scoggins ................................................... 24 Simpson .............................................. 25-26 Tipps ......................................................... 27 Tucker ...................................................... 28 Wilkerson ................................................. 29 Woodgett .................................................. 30

Grade 6 Prose

Adcock ................................................ 32-33 Ahmed ...................................................... 34 Albee ................................................... 35-36 Brown ................................................. 37-38 Danniels ................................................... 39 Fields .................................................. 40-41 Flynn ........................................................ 42 Foster ........................................................ 43 Kelch ................................................... 44-45 Mitchell .................................................... 46 Murchison ........................................... 47-48 Petty .................................................... 49-50 Ray ........................................................... 51 Tollett ....................................................... 52

Wilson ...................................................... 53

Grade 7 Poetry

Barnes ...................................................... 55 Lathop ...................................................... 56 Miller ....................................................... 57

Grade 7 Prose

Barnes ...................................................... 59 Fisk ..................................................... 60-61 Greaser ............................................... 62-63 Johnston ............................................. 64-65 Kozlica .................................................... 66 Lawson ............................................... 67-68

Grade 8 Poetry

Barron ................................................. 70-71 Bellamy ................................................... 72 Bickel ...................................................... 73 Burgess .................................................... 74 Cate .......................................................... 75 Franke ...................................................... 76 Hall .......................................................... 77 Hawkins ................................................... 78 Hayen ................................................. 79-80 Johnson .................................................... 81 McDonough ............................................. 82 Nelson ................................................. 83-84 Patel ......................................................... 85 Thurman .................................................. 86 Werner ..................................................... 87 Young ...................................................... 88

Grade 8 Prose

Anderson ............................................. 90-91 Barron ................................................. 92-93 Crisp ................................................... 94-95 Delashmitt ............................................... 96 Ditto ................................................... 97-98 Ducker ............................................... 99-100 3

Fleming ................................................................................................................................ 101 Henry ............................................................................................................................ 102-103 Herrick .......................................................................................................................... 104-105 Jacobs ............................................................................................................................ 106-109 Johnson ......................................................................................................................... 110-111 Kalmbach ...................................................................................................................... 112-113 Levitt .................................................................................................................................... 114 Mantovani ..................................................................................................................... 115-116 Parson ........................................................................................................................... 117-118 Powell ........................................................................................................................... 119-120 Pritchard ....................................................................................................................... 121-122 Smith ............................................................................................................................ 123-124 Utai ............................................................................................................................... 125-126

Grade 9 Poetry

Bradberry ............................................................................................................................. 128 Knutson ................................................................................................................................ 129

Grade 9 Prose

Brown ........................................................................................................................... 131-132 Delgado ........................................................................................................................ 133-134

Grade 10 Poetry

Bacon ................................................................................................................................... 136 Beeland - Winner of the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Poetry ..... 137-138 Haywood .............................................................................................................................. 139

Grade 10 Prose

Vega .............................................................................................................................. 141-142

Grade 11 Poetry

McConnell ........................................................................................................................... 144 Oates - Runner-Up for the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Poetry ......... 145

Grade 11 Prose

Matthews - Winner of the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Prose .... 147-148

Grade 12 Poetry

Jenkins ................................................................................................................................. 150 Joyner ........................................................................................................................... 151-152 Nicholson ............................................................................................................................. 153 Sneller .................................................................................................................................. 154 Williams ............................................................................................................................... 155

Grade 12 Prose

Jennings ........................................................................................................................ 157-158 4

Grade 6 Poetry

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Oceans Playing a beautiful symphony Heavenly to my ear So many memories to hear.

No stress occurs, While the cool breeze whirls.

One of the best things in the world.

The soft, smooth sand Falls through my hand.

You come, I demand!

The vast blue with caution Always in motion Makes me happy, in emotion.

The tall beautiful palm trees Flows by the breeze The reflection upon the seas.

Best of all is at sunrise, Looks amazing to the eyes It is no lie.

There is none next to me, Oh how I wish there could be.

Do you agree?

Hoda Alameddine Grade 6 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Melissa Striker 6

Mysterious Figure Last night I went on a walk When I saw a mysterious figure All it did was moan and growl Then I swear I saw two beautiful moonlit eyes The next morn I went for a stroll Then I saw the figure again This time it seemed to hum a song When it left I saw beautiful flowing hair When I went to my shop I saw something in the window It was the figure again But it was dancing When it left I saw a face never to be forgotten That night I called for the figure It answered with a kind nudge I saw it clearly for the first time Still to this day I never told what I saw After that get up I did not return I followed the figure I never understood fully why but I do Sometimes I wonder if I could go back Then I realize I could never leave the figure For I love it with all my heart

Ellie Campbell Grade 6 Silverdale Baptist Academy Dina Couch 7

To This Day

To this day, she is a stick of TNT lit from both ends and she can describe in ways how the sky BENDS and BREAKS and the moment its about to FALL… The hallways were battlegrounds day after day... And each day it seemed we were outnumbered, DAY after WRETCHED day..

We used to stay INSIDE for recess cause outside was worse… OUTSIDE we would rehearse running away… or standing still like statues.. It seems the up hills are mountains and the downhills were cliffs… And if u cant see anything beautiful about yourself get a better Mirror..

LOOK a little CLOSER stare a little longer… Cause there’s something inside you that made you keep trying despite EVERYONE who told you to quit you took your broken heart and...

Kayci Coleman Grade 6 Hixson Middle School John Devore

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Worst Hair Day Ever When I woke up, my hair looked like a lion’s mane, you wouldn’t believe but I went insane.

I brushed it all morning and that didn’t help.

Just couldn’t get that fluff out of there, I reminded myself of a mad grizzly bear.

So I pulled it back into a ponytail and when I did my face went pale, because split ends were sticking up every way, which is why I almost didn’t get out of bed today.

Then I tried some bobby pins, but I just couldn’t get rid of those split ends.

So I made myself get out of bed because I needed a stylist to help with my bedhead.

I decided today just wasn’t my day when she cut my hair and walked away.

I looked in horror as I saw the shortest hair I’ve seen of all.

I’m exaggerating just a bit, you see it went down to my hips, but that’s way too short for me it use to be down to my knees.

I’ve decided that it’s not too bad, but don’t worry I’m still very mad.

Chloe Creekmore Grade 6 Silverdale Baptist Academy Dina Couch 9

Once There Was a Flower Once there was a flower With colors as pretty as the moon It bloomed so high into the sky And gazed at the other flowers I felt like I was looking at it for hours So I turned away and saw the rest of the world Then I twisted and twirled and got pick Then I was in a vase

Jamiyah Gillispie Grade 6 Hixson Middle School John Devore 10

Untitled In Mrs. Leighton’s room You learn to write If you’re misbehaved you might face your doom In Mrs. Leighton’s room You will bloom Into who Or is it whom you are

Sean Howell Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Leighton 11

Untitled There was a road A road that was so still The road never moved But then the road jumped And it flew in the sky It flew like a bird And then a bird sat on the road The road said get off me you bird The bird left the road alone The road had no friends Until a rock landed on the road and the road was happy And the road and the rock were friends

Alex Huegerich Grade 6 Hixson Middle School John Devore 12

BalloonS bAlloons, it saiLs above all, to some we can’T see, to some it is mightY. at timeS, it mAy soar above any bird. the balloon Might view more than any human. for how little we see because most humanS Are so short minded. for we aLl are on the ground, far below the balloon, that Sails the cloudS. whilE the balloon looks silly. it can eVen go higher than thought possiblE. For eveN the planeS not darE go so high. the bAlloon may go high like a dream. but even a dream may pop. thuS the balloon pops, and so does a dream.

Kevin K Grade 6 Hixson Middle School John Devore 13

The Life of a Bowling Ball The crowds appear The game is on I’m waiting here About to yawn My friends are chosen The six and seven It’s like I’m frozen The lonely eleven One kid exclaims “It’s my turn now!”

I just want some fame Just pick me somehow!

The kid chooses me I get all excited I’m finally free!

I’m so delighted!

I’m in the lights I feel so alive It’s the highlight Of my entire life The kid swings me back The crowd cheers loudly I’m gliding down the track The pins wait proudly Boom! Bang! Pow! The pins strike down I slide past now Across to my crown

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What an accomplishment I gasp and sigh Until I’m sent Back to satisfy Again and again Until the night’s end The feeling of a win Is my best friend

Emily Lin Grade 6 Heritage Middle School Kim Reeves 15

Dancing Stars I sit outside in the cold wet grass, letting the moisture press against my skin. The moon light lit up the water in the pool as stars danced in the sky.

I heard happy crickets singing and coyotes threatening the moon with their sharp howls.

Along came the sappy sweet smell of my mom’s yellow roses they were so sweet I could taste them even over the harsh smell of flaming leaves.

As I watched the thick maiden grass blowing in the chilling winds, I feel my toes gradually become numb.

I thought about what was happing in all the houses I couldn’t see.

What were other people’s lives like, behind the protective walls and doors of a house?

I wonder if they think about what my life is like, behind my walls and my doors. We’re they in pain?

Or were they playing and laughing?

I hope for the best and pray for those who hurt.

Meg McMahon Grade 6 Baylor School Amy Cohen 16

I Don’t Know How to Write a Poem I don’t know how to write a poem And that’s a fact I couldn’t write one to save my life I know that sounds pretty wack I’m not going to win this contest So why should I bother But my dad made me So I must go farther

Arika Merryman Grade 6 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 17

A Dog in the Shadows A dog in the shadows, just Standing there, as if watching something only it can See No idea what but it stands there, Day in day out, staring, staring, Staring at the street Still it stands there looking at Nothing staring, staring, staring All alone waiting for something to Happen Waiting for someone to sit there Nothing to see, you sit across From it, and then darkness Is all you see, Nobody knows whose dog that Is, but one thing is certain it is Not normal, sitting, staring, Nothing else just sitting, and staring Never dying, never living Just waiting, sitting and staring

William Mosley Grade 6 Hixson Middle School John Devore 18

Winter Nights The wind blows loudly across the sky.

It makes my nose extremely dry.

I love the smell of newborn snow, To me it smells like hot cocoa.

I sit in my room, swaddled with blankets, While the frost freezes.

I fall asleep by the fire, While the snow settles because it’s tired.

Ave Nelson Grade 6 Rhea Middle School Denise Jenkins 19

Why Are You Not Worth It Sometimes you feel like you’re the only one here just all alone You wish you were known You feel like everyone always stares at you You think everyone looks right through Why people seem to stare But in real life they don’t care Maybe you get bullied a lot but you can’t do anything about it Girl! What are you talking about, you are being dramatic You are amazing When you walk in the room people start gazing Everyone appreciates you When will you realize it is true?

Melody Nguyen Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Leighton 20

Poems The leaves of various colors Some are brown and some are red I could see them all from my bed After a month or two The cold winds came by Soon winter came The blankets of white covered the fields It was cold as cold And then the sun came by, all the snow melted Soon the sunny, springy spring came I saw the bird and I saw the herds of deer It was a pleasure feeling the warmth

Ishani Patel Grade 6 HIxson Middle School John Devore 21

Seeking What is Inside You are beautiful but you try to hide.

Talent you have but you just reside.

Be bright and bold, we’re all you’re fan.

Have color and purpose, take a stand.

Shine your light wherever you go.

Find your heights and you will know.

Spill out your colors to show the crowd.

Thrilled you shall be when you are so proud.

Be loud and encouraging, what do you fear.

What are you waiting for we are all here.

Audrey Porter Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Leighton 22

I See Shadows I see shadows lurking in the dark they look weak and sad some even kept saying Stuff like stop thinking that I kept thinking is this real or are they just my thoughts Would I really go this far to think that I’m just a ghost that no one sees And hates and that everyone ignores me and acts like I’m not real or something would me go to think that I’m nobody I’m depressed and sad I feel lonely I feel all the pain on my heart everyday I Lay on my bed and try to make it all better wishing I was Alive……..

Alondra Salazar Grade 6 HIxson Middle School John Devore 23

The Wolf The wolf wakes up in the cool morning air.

The wolf fights to protect his mate from the bear.

The wolf runs for miles to kill for his family.

The wolf only discovers that he is bleeding badly.

The wolf knows his time is up.

The wolf knows his generations will go on because of his pups.

Seth Scoggins Grade 6 Silverdale Baptist Academy Dina Couch 24

Growing like Grass Blazing sun rays hit my back causing my whole body to go warm.

Blue skies seem to cover all of the white clouds.

Bees buzz around, roaming the plants, and getting away from any humans.

I sit on the on the hot ground and smell the aromas from the fresh cut grass.

Birds sing and dance in the sky, while the sluggish birds perch on the rooftops.

As I take a breath, fresh air fills my mouth.

Although I wear my bright red sunglasses, The sun still makes my eyes water every time I look at it.

Amber color leaves cover the trees and the ground.

Mountains still sparkle in the dim light.

Cold wind blows across my face for a brief second.

The lukewarm sun rays only heat up my back for a second.

The rest of my body stays cool.

All of the sky seems to be covered by clouds.

Green grass rises from the ground.

Lifeless trees stand there with no leaves.

Magnificent birds to not fill the air with their songs, but instead they migrate towards the south to find warmth.

Grass droops on the frigid ground.

My warm breath turns into a cloud of smoke.

Silver clouds cover the sky leaving no sun to be seen.

Shivers run down my spine as I sit there in the frosty weather.

Goosebumps now dot my legs.

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Dazzling green grass and leaves fill the world with green color.

Flowers make the fresh air smell like heaven.

Graceful birds now sing and dance again.

Butterflies with brilliant colors emerge from their cocoons.

Baby animals play in the open.

After an evening storm, humidity fills the air.

Water now barely covers the road.

As I move through the years, I find myself getting taller and taller.

My front yard holds valuable memories of my friends, or me just enjoying nature.

This place has always been my second home.

Even though my first home is right next to it!

My front yard and I seem to bond even though it cannot talk.

I sometimes believe it is calling me somehow.

My savior has blessed me with this wonderful spot.

Lily Simpson Grade 6 Baylor School Amy Cohen 26

Adult old, wise inspiring, committing, working tall, calm, loud, creative shouting, jumping, sleeping active, destructive Child

Parker Tipps Grade 6 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 27

Untitled I’ve worked hard my whole Accomplished things, did things, I’m not proud of everything No one is perfect no one will ever Be perfect trying my hardest trying my Best will never be good at anything It a big boring fest.

No one can hold me back not getting Encouraged but I still try getting somewhere Going and going just like I’m mowing down Everyone as I’m flowing, swimming like a Turtle through the sea no one believes in Myself except me People call me weak but I know I’m strong Life is just too hard and long

Jadon Tucker Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Leighton 28

Life Your life is like a cocoon, When you were little, you’ll sprout soon, But for now you have to wait, Until Its your time to decide your faith, Along, last until you grow, You’ll be the star in your family and you’ll glow, You will be the star in your family, a star so bright, Until your mother is woken up by you last night,

You’re so enlightened by your family, until your mother got sick, Which made everyone cry, When you were at your mother’s funeral that night, You found out you were tricked You ran to your mom’s funeral from yesterday, And thought that she would still lay, But you found a note, “I gave up hope.”

That was the day that your mom lied, And that she tried, To help you and your family, But she failed.

Angel Wilkerson Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Leighton 29

Get Away From the Man Please it’s dark in here I can’t see nothing but fear, Don’t cry, don’t cry, the fear will go bye bye fear not Here the man is fat and he has stitches, patch it up Before he gets here to kill me not ill me, I ran down The street with cold feet and he doesn’t see me but People they call the cops and take him away I never Seen him since this day. But I see him in my heart, some Fears never fall apart never break my heart.

Tamarion Woodgett Grade 6 Hixson Middle School Channa Heighton 30

Grade 6 Prose

31

Spike Dies, But I Take Responsibility

A 5 year old me steps out of my Dad’s truck on a hot summer day to what sounds like birds chowing down on a snack. I see my Dad walking inside so as a child who has nothing else to do I follow him.

But when he sees me following and he stops me in my tracks by saying, “Wait”.

Now he’s made me more curious to the point that I reply “why” in a much lower tone.

He says “You’ll see” almost ominously and walks inside.

Around 2 minutes later he comes out the door with a leash that lead back into the door. 5 seconds later a very excited dog runs out towards me. “Say hI to your dog”, Dad says as my mind fills with excitement. “What should we name him?” I say with 1,000 different names rushing into my mind. “It’s your choice, buddy” he said making sure his point was across that it really was my choice.

I tried around 4 names, rejecting them all. Most of them started with S, so after a minute of deciding a name popped into my head, Spike. I repeated the name in my head out loud, to which my Dad agreed. We took Spike inside(although I came up with the name it would take a while to get used to),sat him down on the couch, and turned on the TV while getting acquainted with our new dog. He was really excitable but we got him to calm down and from then he started to listen to us more and more as the weeks went by.

After about two weeks he finally walks into our room and the first thing he did was chew on one of Dad’s shoes. We came home the same time as usual which is when I get out of school and when we came in we saw Spike on the couch. It wasn’t until 20 minutes later when we saw a heap of cotton and a worn 32

shoe at the foot of our bed. Of course Spike being as curious as I am follows him in our room and it only Dad half a second to figure out what happened.

“Look what you did!” Dad almost yelled, “You chewed up a shoe!”

He was holding up the chewed shoe to Spike, Making sure he learned his lesson.

Something I never realized, however, was that he never touched Spike. He wouldn’t do anything physical even if I wasn’t right in that doorway watching his every move. I was caught up in the moment because anyone who heard him yell would be frozen with fear.

As he was doing this I interrupted with a weak “stop.”

I suppose he had forgotten I was there so he left Spike to his devices and sat down with me on the couch.

“Am I worrying’ you?,” He asked in a somewhat sincere voice.

And in my usual weak tone of voice I nearly whispered the word “yeah”.

“I’m sorry buddy” he said now with utmost sincerity.

Minor occurrences like this popped up over weeks but none as bad as that first. We would visit Dad’s parents who are my grandparents every week and they also had a dog, his name was Buddy. Spike and Buddy would run around the house, preferring not to go outside because of the colder temperatures of those years. When they did go outside, however, they would run across the acres of land my grandparents owned and back over and over again.

However they started to play in more than the fields. While I was at my Mom’s house an accident had occurred in which Spike followed Buddy to the road. Spike had been unlucky enough to be hit by a car but Buddy had been fine. The next week when I came back to Dad’s house I had been sat down to a chat about Spike’s death.

I’d like you to think of your first pet, and if you’ve never had a pet think of your most prized possession or person. Now imagine how you would have felt to lose that pet/ possession/person at the mentally weak age of six years old. I felt that sadness for what was nearly a month on end. I felt horrible, I was racked with guilt despite it not being my fault. I felt it was my responsibility to look after him even when I wasn’t there, but I was able to calm down enough to go further into grieving.

After that I kept a watchful eye. I stayed away from any hazards and protected my toys almost as much as I protected myself.

I would sit in the very back of my room when I didn’t have to go outside. This went on for maybe a week but after that I simply got a little teary eyed every time I thought about him.

Even though that was the case I was still very sad. Dad knew this(as Dads do)and felt I needed a gift.

One afternoon he asked me, “Would you want a new dog?” and with excitement I almost yelled “Yes!”. A day or so later we got a tip from one of my Dad’s friends(she runs a animal rescue) about a dog who looked a lot like Spike. That month we got Spike II and we loved him just as much.

Once I got past grieving I really understood the way Dad did what he did when Spike did something wrong. Dad wanted to control him so that what happened wouldn’t happen. We needed some time to get used to not having a dog running back and forth through the house 24/7. We needed a mental break, especially Dad because he probably couldn’t counteract my crying with his snoring.

Once we got Spike II we made sure not to make any of the mistakes we made with Spike. Dad had to yell at him more because Spike II was very stubborn. But we still have Spike II with us to this day and have made

sure nothing happens to him.

Levi Adcock Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich 33

Chaos

I woke up this morning late for school. The bus left before I can even wake up. I wore my shirt backwards without even noticing. I accidentally wore my older brothers socks, which were huge. When I went down the stairs I tripped because of the socks.

Instead of asking if I’m okay, my mom said I was the clumsiest person she’s ever seen.

When I went to eat breakfast I tried to put milk in my cereal, but the milk was spoiled.

Then when I went into the car my shoe got stuck and ripped. When I got to school some guy was speeding and mud went all over my clothes. I looked hideous. I had one ripped shoe, mud all over my clothes, a backwards shirt, no breakfast, and huge ugly socks sticking out of my shoe. This day can’t get any worse.

When I got into the class, everyone made fun of me, and my teacher yelled your late to class Mr. Alex.

“I know Mrs. Hilton, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not!” she said.

Then Sasha the most popular student in our class said, “Well too bad I will do it again” in a murmur.

When the teacher heard that she ask “Who said that!”

Sasha said “ Alex said that.”

I tried to defend myself because I didn’t.

Mrs. Hilton said “ That is it Alex, you are late to my class, you look like you just got ran over by a car and attacked by your neighbors cat. I think it is about time you get an after school detention.”

Now how am I supposed to explain detention to my parents, I’m probably going to get grounded forever. I am having the worst day ever! I am the worst kid alive.

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Then suddenly after I said that my teacher came to me and said “I’m so sorry for giving you detention you will never have detention ever again, and no more homework for you sir.”

I was shocked, I thought this was a miracle. Then she went to Sasha and gave her detention for three whole days. Now Sasha’s reputation was ruined, and mine was getting better by the second. Then when I got in the car my mom said she wants me to sit up front and my brother had to sit in the back.

Then she took us to a restaurant and I got to pick where. After we went for ice cream, and again I got to pick where. Then when we got home my mom said I can watch any movie alone and I can eat upstairs and that I didn’t have to go to school tomorrow if I don’t want to. Then my brother got so mad and jealous he told my mom everything bad I did. My mom said he was just jealous. Then my brother realized that if mom wasn’t going to do anything he’d might as well just tell my dad. When my dad got home my brother went and snitched. My dad got so mad ran upstairs and yelled “ you have done very bad, enjoy your phone for the next three seconds, because now it is going to be your last time seeing it this year!” Now my bad luck is happening again. Wish me luck please. I wonder what will happen tomorrow, lets see.

Minna Ahmed Grade 6 Annoor Academy Kelsay Cate

London Museum Mystery

The room was filled with the clatter of breaking glass. All of our heads jerked in the same direction; to the most prized and dangerous item in the museum. The glass was shattered...and it was gone.

What’s that? Oh! Sorry, let me backup.

Hi! I’m Jim, one of the night guards of the most visited museum in all of London. We have people come from all over the world just to see one item; the Book of Black Magic.

It holds every single evil spell that has been created since the beginning of time; From crushing an apple to crushing the universe.

We have it surrounded by five layers of bulletproof glass, follows by chains locking it up and sensors covering every centimeter of it.

Only us night guards now the code to it and how to break it. Otherwise it’s impossible to break. And yet it’s broken and gone.

We only think of one thing; Get. It. Back.

We don’t know how, where, or when but it has to be quick.

These evil spells are called Black Magic because, for example, say you are crushing an apple. You mumble the spell and a black form of dust crawls around it and all of the sudden it crushes. And you can do the same to the universe if you possess the book.

And some one does.

I work with a group of people and— THUD. I turn around and see two of our night guards on the ground unconscious with a little bit of black dust on them, slowly dissolving.

“Who’s there?” said Tilli, one of the night guards. But he received no answer, except the cold blow of the night snowy air which led to two answers; Black Magic had been released and it just went out the door.

About a week later I was watching the news

and it said that there had been a wand stolen from one of the museums and a couple other items stolen from others.

“Hey did y’all watch the news today?” Tylia asked.

“Yeah, this is creepy. Who is doing this?”

Greg said.

“I don’t know…” I said, staring at the blocked off empty case.

“Who’s that?!” Tylia said pointing at the door.

We saw a man in a mask running out of the building. My blood got cold. I tried to yell but I couldn’t find air to fill my lungs. And apparently so couldn’t the other three because they just stood and watched him run out with a big black bag.

The next day we were all gathered together at my house.

“I feel so bad for Jack. He’s missing out on so much and he’s our best night guard.” Tylia frowned.

Jack had broken his leg trying to catch a robber and now he’s in the hospital trying to recover.

Right after she had spoken black dust crawled out from under the door and touched a vase and it shattered to pieces.

“Oh no!” We all mumbled at the same time.

This meant that Black Magic has been going from house to house crushing a random item but every day the item would get bigger and bigger until it reached you.

We had been searching for the man for weeks and weeks but we couldn’t find him and some people’s house had already disappeared.

“We should check on Jack. He’s probably wondering what’s happening.” Greg panicked, “Hello? Jack?”

“Yeah, hey sorry man. I’m taking too long I know. But this whole “stealing things from museums and taking over the universe with Black Magic” is hard. Especially keeping up 35

the act to my “friend” night guards about my broken leg. But it’s coming along so I’ll be as quick as I can. Oh, here’s the next museum.

Alright I’ll to you later Jake.”

“Uhh Jack?”

“This is Jake right?”

“Umm no.”

But then all I heard was “Boop, boop. boop”.

“It’s… Jack…”

So after a silent guarding night we decided to call him and try to talk things out.

“Hey Jack. We need to talk.” I said.

“Hey bad time they’re about to do an X-ray on my leg.”

“Quit the act, Jack. We know your secret.”

“Ha ha ha so you fools finally figured out.

It’s about time.”

“Uh yeah… so why’re you doing this?”

“Because….I was forced to.”

“What?”

“My friend Jake said I had to or he’d kill me.”

“Well it’s simple!”

“How?” “You have the book so you can kill him or call the cops on him.”

“But… he’s a really good friend.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. A guy who wants to kill you is the best guy in the world.” “ I…. I suppose I can send him to jail.”

And so the next couple of days I heard on the news that a guy named Jake had been sent to jail for blackmailing a guy to take over the world. And so after that we got the book back and continued on with our job, with Jake.

Well, he’ll be coming back after six months of being in jail. But now, all was well. And yes, everyone got there stuff that got crushed back.

So that night I was lying in bed and then I saw something creep out through the corner of the wall. Could it…. yep it was black dust.

We forgot that there had to be a cure to it. Oh, remember how I said “It gets bigger and bigger every day”? Well this time it was more big than it’s ever been.

36

Alexis Albee Grade 6 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Melissa Striker

Harmful Or Beneficial?

Introduction

The Chickenpox is a harmful microorganism that causes you to get little red dots on your skin. Chickenpox is a disease, that you would not like to have.

Information

Normally people come in contact with this disease at the ages from 2-6 years old. Even though many people come in contact with it at that time, any person could get it at any age. Chickenpox usually lasts for 1 week to 10 days. This disease is also one of the most common diseases to have when you are in your childhood. Chickenpox is more dangerous or serious for adults. If you are an adult and you get the Chickenpox ,even though it would be more serious, it is extremely rare for it to be life threatening.

Chickenpox can be very annoying and itchy.

Chickenpox is capable of creating 250-500 very annoying, itchy, little, and red scabs.

Which is one of the effects that Chickenpox creates.

Definition

Chickenpox is a infectious disease that causes rashes, blisters, and fevers. The good thing is, after you have it once, you are usually immune to it after.

How Chickenpox is Transmitted Or Multiplied

Chickenpox is very easy multiplied, because it is very contagious. Chickenpox is very easily spread from one person to another. It is spread through coughs, sneezes, and direct contact with the red blisters.

Why is Chickenpox Called Chicken Pox

Have you ever thought about why Chickenpox is called Chickenpox? Well I will be telling you why it is called Chickenpox. There are a lot of different theories about this, so I will start with this one. One reason is the red spots look like chickpeas (garbanzo beans). Another reason is that the red spots look like a chicken has pecked you. Weird ways to name something, right?

Why Do Chickenpox Itch?

Chickenpox itch because after the red spots come up ,they fill up with clear liquid.

The liquid is called a vesicle. The vesicle then lets out chemicals that activate your nerves.

After that, you start to itch.

Harm That Chickenpox Has

Chickenpox can be harmful, and can even cause hospital visits. One example of Chickenpox being harmful is it can cause sickness and even death. It also causes many red and very itchy blisters to appear on your skin. It is proven that if you get it as an adult ,it is more likely be more serious and harmful. Chickenpox could possibly cause death or life threatening situations.

When The World Became Aware Of The Chicken Pox

We became aware of Chickenpox before it got its name. We first experienced this disease in the 15 hundreds when trade was popular between Europe and America. When it got its name,we were in the 16 hundreds. It got its name by an English doctor that decided Chickenpox would be a fitting name.

37

Closing

As you can see, Chickenpox is definitely a harmful bacteria. I just hope I don’t have to go through a red dot phase!

Waverli Brown Grade 6 Heritage Middle School Kim Reeves 38

Untitled

It had been a few weeks since my nana had hip surgery. My mom, my brother, and I were over at her house. My brother and I couldn’t go play outside because there was nobody out there to watch us, so the only thing left to do was go play in the basement.

Before I went down stairs to the basement my papaw asked me if I wanted to bake Peanut Butter cookies. After we baked the cookies we had to wait a few minutes for them to cool off.

While I waited I went downstairs.

As we were playing I was starting to get bored. “Are you ready for your cookie?” I asked my brother. “ No, not right now maybe later.” he replied. So me and him continued playing. After a little while we were both beyond ready for a fresh baked cookie. “ Ryan, please go get us both a cookie, and I’ll stay down here and wait for you to get back. “ I told him strictly.

“Ok, Lindsey!” and right upstairs he went. He stomped up the stairs so loud I thought he was going to fall through them. After he went upstairs he came back with our cookies. “ Lindsey, I have our cookies!” he hollered. But I was nowhere to be seen so he screamed even louder, “LINDSEY, I HAVE OUR COOKIES!” But still no answer, so he yelled as loud as he could, “LINDSEY, SERIOUSLY, COME OUT!!!” He ran upstairs and asked mom and nana if I was upstairs with them. “ No baby, she is not up here with us.” They replied. “ Baby, she has to be down there somewhere.” “Are you sure she isn’t hiding from you, I mean she does enjoy doing that?” “ Oh I never thought of it that way!” Here he came marching down the stairs, and right to the Christmas closet he went.

“Boo!” I yelled. He jumped backwards and slung the cookies in the air and “SPLAT” the cookies smacked the floor.

“AAAUUUGGGHHH!” He screamed as he ran back upstairs. he ran upstairs to tell on me for hiding but my mom and my nana didn’t have time to yell at me because they were laughing so hard. “Lindsey, you scared me!” He laughed. “I didn’t know who or what was coming after me!” He added. I just laughed at his comment and we sat there and enjoyed our cookies which was hard for me to do because I couldn’t quit laughing!!!

Lindsey Danniels Grade 6 Rhea Middle School Denise Jenkins 39

The Alternative Halloween is fun for kids all over the world, but it is especially fun for kids in Colorado.

It seems like every house gives out full-size candy bars to the kids. Frizzy Fields and Owen beck were not only neighbors, but best friends. You could not find two kids who loved Halloween more than they did. Every year they went to all the houses in their neighborhood and stayed out for hours.

Frizzy is 12 years old. He is a little overweight, with green eyes, and has brown and white mixed hair. Owen is 11, skinny as a stick, and very sneaky. Both kids are humorous and playful.

So this Halloween was just like any other.

Frizzy and Owen’s families were trick or treating with each other in their neighborhood, stopping at every house. Frizzy and Owen stood back after a couple of houses.

“Hey, do you want to cut through this house’s backyard? We can see if we can get to the mansions quicker before all the candy runs out.”

“Sure.” Owen responded. The mansions at the back of the neighborhood had the best candy, but if you got there too late, all the good stuff would be gone. So Frizzy and Owen cut through the yard, and went through the woods that were beyond the yard.

After what felt like forever of stumbling through the woods, the boys came into an open field. In the middle of the field, there appeared to be a house. It looked like the kind of house you would see in horror movies.

“Woah!” Frizzy exclaimed.

“Something doesn’t seem right about this house. It has this creepy vibe to it that I don’t like.”

“Can we go inside?” Frizzy asked.

“No!” “Come on, just one little peek?”

40

“Fine!” Owen said, with a mixture of fear and anger. The boys walked to the house, being cautious with every step. They reached the door, took deep breaths, and open it.

They were astonished to find the inside of the house was ten times bigger as the outside. Right as they stepped in, the door behind them closed and made a click. “Okay, we looked inside. Now let’s go.” Owen whispered as he put his hand on the door. He struggled for a minute, but then said “It’s locked! Can you help me? You’re stronger, I bet you can budge it open.”

“Sure, after we explore.”

“Please no.” Owen was starting to get very frustrated.

Frizzy said, “Give me five minutes to explore, then we can leave.”

The boys first noticed a big painting of a man that had a black fedora, a mask that covered only have of his face, a knife in a hand, and… fangs?

“No way. Is that a real life vampire!?

“Cool!” Frizzy responded.

Next they noticed four hallways, each seemed to go on forever. Frizzy and Owen decided to go down one of them. While they were going down the hall, Frizzy told Owen after they saw what was at the end of the hall, they could go.

Once they got to the end of the hall, they saw a broom closet. That was it.

“I dare you to go into the closet.” Frizzy told Owen.

“This is probably the scariest house in Colorado, and you want me to go into the closet?”

“You too scared?”

“Fine!” Owen said. He opened the closet door and went in. “Are you happy now?” All of a sudden, out of the shadows in the closet, came the man (or vampire) from the painting. He raised his knife and struck it down.

Luckily, Frizzy saw this coming and pulled Owen out of the way just in time.

“Run!” Frizzy yelled.

The boys ran down the hallway, but right before they exited the hall, a metal door came down and blocked the boys from leaving. Then the floor beneath them split open and the boys fell into a secret room that they hadn’t noticed was underneath them. It was a small room. On the far side of the room was a yellow ladder that went up. They stopped for breath, but then climbed up the ladder. They ended up back upstairs in the entrance hall.

The boys went to the door and Frizzy managed to open it. Right before they ran out the door, Frizzy saw something behind them jump.

“Move out of the way!” Frizzy shouted. Frizzy pushed Owen outside, out of the way, right as something knocked over and landed on Frizzy.

“Run!” he yelled, right as a knife pierced through his hand. Owen listened, and ran. Right before he made it back into the woods, Owen looked over his shoulder and saw the vampire put his fangs right into Frizzy’s neck. Then Owen could no longer see Frizzy, or the vampire, because he was in the woods.

Owen ran and found his parents and told them to follow him because there was an emergency. He led them through the woods and into the field. What Owen saw made him lose his breath. There, in the middle of the field, was no house, and no trace that there ever had been.

Caleb Fields Grade 6 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Sara Clarich 41

Untitled

One rainy humid day, I was walking home from school with my friend and once we unlocked the door the chilled air of the house blew on our faces as we sighed a sigh of relief.

As we walked in I realized that I had to take out the dogs so we took out the dogs and ran them up and down the hill until the almost fell asleep. As we got in we sat down at the counter and had a snack.

My sister was in her room when I heard a slight sound of crying, I opened up the door and I saw that she was on the phone with my grandma as she was sitting there my grandma said their house in Florida was destroyed. I felt a lump in my throat as I listened but I had to keep it in because my friend was there. About two hours later my friend left and my mom was home and all I did was go to my room. At that moment I all I thought was that my grandparents must be devastated.

It was about 8:40 at night as my mom came in and all she said was “I know you are sad but you can go through it because our family is strong and we can go through this.” And once again I knew I was going to cry, my eyes filled up with tears and I had a lump in my throat and then I cried. I felt comfort as my mom hugged me and I knew that hurricane Irma was the worst of all. I thought to myself that I was In hurricane Sandy but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Irma.

The next day my grandparents sent pictures of the house that their neighbors sent and as I looked I noticed that the shingles were off the roof and all you could see was the wooden outline of the house. They told us that when their neighbors went in the house they had to hold their breath because there was mold everywhere and everything was damp and I felt so bad.

Later that morning I had to go to school and usually I am a happy talkative person, but I was sad and shy. I know that my grandparents will build a new house at the same place and that makes me feel a lot better. A lesson from myself is, “Hurricanes destroy, but devastation can’t rebuild.” And now I know to think of others before yourself.

Reese Flynn Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich 42

I Felt It Again . . .

This day was very life changing for me. I remember the excitement that I had sitting in the car to go to the beach where my family was. The excitement that I had was as if I was going to Disney world. We went up the stairs after we parked the car and I could smell the salty water. We stepped into the condo and ran outside to the balcony and there he was. My second baby cousin.

“Hi Banks, I’m your cousin.”

I felt all of the love from everybody that was given to him because I was giving him that same amount of love. I was so anxious to see him and I knew why. He was a part of the family I love and I knew I would love him as I loved everyone else. He had a distinct smell, that I didn’t know what to compare it to and then as I was thinking I heard him start to cry.

“Kacy, can I hold him. I really want to.”

She said “Maybe later, he is still really tired.”

I was sad that I couldn’t hold him but I knew it would happen someday. It was really hard to get him to stop crying when somebody came up to him. He also slept a lot. Whenever we went outside to the beach my aunt Kacy would always have to take him inside to change his diaper, feed him, or let him sleep inside. She let everybody hold him except me, but one day it happened.

That day I was so happy. It was when I was reading my book on the balcony and my aunt Kacy came out and asked me “Would you like to hold?” I smiled and she knew exactly what I was going to say. I was so excited that I went as fast as a cheetah to get to the couch. As she lay my baby cousin in my arms, I felt a sense of anxiety that just went away for some random reason. I was so

calm in the thirty seconds that he was in my arms. That was one of the best moments in my life before he started to cry but I still felt like he was still in my arms because of how calm I was in the moment after he left my arms. Our beach trip was the best I’ve ever had. I got to hold my cousin multiple times and got to play with both of my cousins. In that moment when I saw my cousin I knew that he would be one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I would love him forever as long as I live and I felt the same thing with my first cousin.

Now it has been 3 years and I’m living in the same state as them. With my parents getting a divorce, my aunt Kacy has been a big help in our situation. I don’t know what have happened if we didn’t have her or my cousins. I’m happy that we get to see each other a lot more. One of my best memories that we’ve had here is when I was leaving and the sun’s radiation striking on the hot day made me sweat. I looked out of my window and saw my cousin banging on his glass door yelling “ AVEY! AVEY! AVEY!.” I felt it again the sense of anxiety going away for a random reason. I felt like I was loved by him and that was all I needed.

Avery Foster Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich

43

The Time I Know

I took a deep breath of air in relief I saw a … friend. I knew that this would be my friend for life. We would do everything together.

First day of school worried I would be lonely for ever. I made a friend, but buy next week we would not talk each other. That long day I thought would never end came to the end. Those two weeks later. Math classes I was, it was a cold morning I still was lonely.

Then I saw this girl across the room she look very kind. So later that morning I introduced myself to her and her friend at recess. There names were Jane Becksfort and Isabella Terc, I knew my and Jane were going to have a close relationship.

Two year later, it was 4th grade going to the upper school. It was big. Later in that in the year November. Jane invited me to her birthday party. I was thrilled, my first sleepover party nothing could be better than this!

Later that month, it was a chilly November Saturday. My mom drove me and Harper to Jane house, I was really nervous I really wanted to impress Jane. We drove down shade circle then I saw her house it was so beautiful. I nervously walk to her door ringed the doorbell and…

Later that morning Jane introduced me to all the people there, of course Jane and Isabella, then there was Kate, Jane’s sis and Ellie, Jane’s best friend as a baby and her sis Frances then there was this girl Aden she goes to Bright they have also have been friend as babies. They all seemed so amazingly nice.

That afternoon we were playing all this fun games, like pie face and tag and also made bracelets. Later that night we had pizza and ice cream, the pizza smell like it just came out of the oven. I had a thrilling time there. I loved 44

meeting all Jane’s friends. But that morning some of the girls were making fun of harper, but were they. I went over there and told stop I sound like nails on a chalk board! But then harper (my twin) came over and said nothing is going on. I was so impressed that I ran all the to Jane’s closet and started to cry. But 1 minute later Harper and Jane appeared and told Jane, ¨Everything is going to be okay. It was just a sisterly love reaction.”

It was a Monday morning I was in the car with Dad, Sis and me. We were off to school. The leaves were red and orange, falling like a bird soaring in the sky. That weekend was Jane’s party and I love it, even no there was still a little mistake. But that day I talk to jane about it and she said it was perfectly fine.

That day I thought me and Jane were more best friends than ever. We had so much in common. That year was a great year for me and Jane.

It is 5th grade and everything changes…

That year me and Jane were only in one class together Math. Ugh. The one class I did not like the most. But Isabella was in reading with me. And for Elsie, bye bye off she went to Illinois. We all missed Elsie very much. It was different without her. But that year was a game-changer! In math class me, Jane and Isabella would always fight over sitting on the carpet. It was a perfect place to sit, it was like a heavenly place to sit. Every day Mrs. Parker, our math teacher, would all was get mad at us for running into class. A few weeks past we would all was go over to Jane’s house and do homework. Janes nanny, Kateland, would always help me with my homework. I loved her so much. She was like my best friend.

There would always be babies around like Abigayle, Henry, and Reden. Abi and Renden was mine and Jane’s favorites. P.S. dont tell Kateland. And after we would be done with our homework, we would get our

phones and Snapchat the babies and make them look like dogs or have a flower crown.

Also, we would love to annoy Jane’s sister, Kate. She would hate it so much but it would be so fun.

I still remember the first time I met Jane’s dad. By the way, Jane’s dad and mom are divorced. He smelled like a woody forest but look kind like a snuggley teddy bear. Jane´s dad had a dog named Millie. She was cute. She was a big-ish brown and white dog. She was small for her breed but had a big heart. I still remember my first sleep over at Jane´s dads house. It was, I think, 3rd grade. The house had a barn house feel to it. It was only like a mile from the school. That night ,me and Jane watched Cupcake Wars till our eyes got blinded. We also made brownie sandwiches with icing in the middle. They were so good.

It was almost fall break Jane was going to Seaside for a whole week and I was not going anywhere. I told her I would miss her so much.

While I sat on my bed all week long and watched tv, Jane was swimming with turtles and letting the breeze go through her hair.

It was a suck-ish fall break. But when she got back it was all perfect again. After fall break, like 3 weeks later, we got in a fight with Isabella, and she became new best friends with Addie. Ugh. I really don’t know why we got in that fight in the first place. Weeks went on with no talking to each other. It was just me and Jane. It was not bad. I wanted to spend time with Jane until she goes to GPS in 6th grade. But I knew I had a while.

So we are all friends again but it is still different though. Months had passed, same old same old. But then one day, it was like a November day, I was going home with Jane and I said to Kateland, “Next year, you probably could pick me up to when you get Jane and Kate from GPS.” But unfortunately Kateland replied, “Sorry sweet. I would not be

going that way.”

My heart drop all the way down to my feet and I felt like there was a waterfall inside my eyes. I tried not to cry. At that moment I felt like I might lose Jane forever and ever.

That next week it was so close to summer break. I was determined to spend the whole summer with her and I did.

We went to the country club. We did a lemonade stand and made lots of money.

My most favorite thing that we did was take pictures and just spent time together. The one thing I forgot to tell her was she was like a sister to me, probably the best sister anyone can have. But know Jane and I are more friends then we have ever been. And I know that friends are not always forever, but I know that she is not a friend she is a sister. That is why you should always keep your bests friends and never let them go.

Scarlett Kelch Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich 45

A Second Family

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” I thought my whole life was over. We could never take these words away because if it had been done, we would never be the same. I didn’t want a brother, or another dad! It was just me and my mom, forever, I thought. I thought this was the worst adjustment ever!

But a month later, we were one happy family. Not. I was about to murder my brother and his 3Ds. And the dogs were no help. All they did was sit there and bark. As this was all going on my mom and her new husband were upstairs watching crime shows, that was annoying!

Now every Wednesday night is family night we have no electronics and we sit down at dinner, together. The reason we decided to have family night is because my brother was always downstairs and I was always in my room. We were never together. Family night has kind of grown on me a little more. I really like hearing about everyone’s day. Family night has brought us to our hearts.

Then we created story time where we all sit down in one of our rooms and read our own story books together. In my room, we read scary books and they bring us off our feet. In my brothers room, we read space books. They make us want to travel to space. In our parents room, we read adventure books and they make me feel like I need to explore and take adventures. Story time has helped our family, just like family night. We love having story time, and you might love it too.

Now that I have had time to adjust to my new second family I think to myself that the wedding wasn’t that bad after all. I loved the music and everyone was so happy. The photographer was dancing and the DJ was spinning some great toons. Nothing could have been more perfect. Family means all of love, and I love my new family.

Sierra Mitchell Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich 46

The Gross Club I didn’t believe it was humanly possible to be that repugnant and simpleminded. It was early autumn and I was looking at the red, orange, yellow, and brown leaves that had fallen to the ground on my neighbors’ large front yard. My neighbors and I were starting a club because we had nothing to do that Sunday evening. At least, Ruthie, my fourth grade neighbor, and I were. Ruthie’s kindergarten-aged brother, Henry, wanted to be in our club, but we wouldn’t let him because he was an annoying bother in our minds, and we didn’t want him ruining our club.

Our club was called the Gross Club.

Ruthie and I had to come up with the grossest initiation we could imagine for Henry because Ruthie’s mom told us we had to include him, and we thought she was out of her mind to make us. We thought that if we came up with something gross enough, we would get him to bow out, and wouldn’t have to include him.

We decided that we would tell him to lick the trash can. We snickered as we told him, not believing he would actually do it.

We thought the Gross Club would never have Henry as a member. But to our surprise, Henry put his hands on his hips and had a look on his face that said, “Challenge accepted” as he walked to the side of the road, where the tall trash can that was put out every Tuesday morning was sitting. (My neighbors had forgotten to take it in.)

He started at the bottom of the dark green can, licking his way up to the lid. He obviously wanted to make the lick seem extra impressive so maybe he could get into Gross Club. He looked like he had been forced to eat a rotten fish that died two months ago when he finally took his small tongue off the rubbish bin. I felt like I had eaten that fish,

just from watching him do it.

Right then I had a horrible realization.

He was doing it because I told him to. Ruthie and I sat on the rock across the yard laughing, but deep down we both felt horrible. We hadn’t thought that he might have actually done it! I got up and stood behind the tall oak tree in their yard for a second, listening to the birds in the trees chirping and the cars passing by on the road, thinking about what I had gotten Henry into. He was still gagging behind the shorter tree across the yard, even now, ten minutes later. I realized that if my mom found out about this, I would be in huge trouble. I still couldn’t believe he had actually done it.

I did tell my mother, though. I had gotten strep throat and my mother asked if I had done anything that might have caused it. I thought back to Henry, who was being interrogated the same way across the street, because he had gotten strep throat, too. I told my mother about Gross Club and how Henry had licked the trash can, which caused him to get strep throat. When she said that this was good information, but it hadn’t answered her question, I told her about my own initiation: drinking water out of a bird bath. She looked at me like I was some kind of new extraterrestrial being, even though it wasn’t that bad in my mind. She sent me up to my room to rest.

In my time of doing nothing for two days, I thought long and hard about why Henry had actually licked the trash can. I realized that he had just wanted to hang out with the cool kids, and I didn’t blame him.

I suddenly felt my heart drop. Ruthie and I had made Henry get sick just because he wanted to hang out with us, and we still hadn’t let him into Gross Club! Then I realized that it was his own fault because he should have known he wouldn’t get into the club. I was happy that Ruthie and I had taught 47

him a lesson. Don’t hang out with the cool kids just because they’re cool, because it could get you into trouble.

Abby Murchison Grade 6 Baylor School Amy Cohen 48

The Costume Shop

Ding-a-ling the bell on the door went, as Allie, Sara, and Taylor stumbled through the door to an old costume shop on Main Street.

“This is weird. I’ve never seen this cool shop before, is it new?” Allie asked confused.

“I don’t think so, I do not see a ‘now open’ sign,” Sara noticed.

“Well, let’s go ask the pretty older lady at the counter,” Taylor suggested. They all nodded and headed to the nice old counter.

“Excuse me ma’am…,” Allie bit her lip as she read the familiar name tag ‘Edith’ and recognized it from an old fairy tale story her mom used to read to her. “Umm, Edith, how long has this shop been open?”

Edith has long grey hair, is wearing an orange sweater and black pants. She looks really comfy.

“Sixty years, Missy, making dreams come alive since 1957,” Miss Edith said as she smiled with a twinkle, almost looked like a little magic.

Allie and her two friends looked around for Halloween costumes. They wanted something original. Well, they don’t know it yet, but original is definitely what they will get. They saw these cool costumes that looked wet but they were not. Allie didn’t know what they were so she looked at the tag and it said Titanic. The costumes were big, fancy, poofy dresses rich ladies in that era would wear.

“Oh, now I get it, that’s so cool!” Allie exclaimed. Allie, Taylor, and Sara walked over to Edith.

“Hi, Miss Edith, these are the ones we want, please,” Allie said as she was holding three Titanic dresses: a blue one, an aqua one, and a purple one.

“Okie dokey.” Miss Edith said as she

smiled. Suddenly a flash of light appeared and Allie, Sara, and Taylor were wearing the dresses. All they could see were lots of people and a city that looks like England.

“All a board the Titanic!” A loud voice called from a distance.

“No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening wait what this is impossible we basically time traveled!” Allie exclaimed confusingly.

“Yeah that’s impossible,” Taylor agreed.

“Well, if it was impossible we wouldn’t be here right now,” Sara stated.

“You’re right. Oh my gosh what should do? We are on the Titanic, even though we are probably going to die, it is a privilege to be on this ship. I mean it is the Titanic. Only rich people and maids would be on this ship,” Allie stated.

“Well, I mean you are right. It’s actually exciting to be here. But on the other hand we need to get off this ship. It’s going to sink soon!” Sara agreed.

“Actually, 122 hours and 20 minutes until it sinks,” Allie replied.

“Really, Allie? You’re like a Titanic encyclopedia!” Taylor said sarcastically.

“Okay, we need to focus!” Sara reminded them.

“Yeah, she’s right. We need to figure out a way to tell everyone we are going to hit an iceberg on Monday, April 15,” suggested Allie.

“Tell them we are from the year 2017 and we traveled back in time?” Taylor asked rhetorically.

“Well, we don’t have to tell them that, but I don’t know,” Allie replied.

“Well, let’s just see what the next couple of days hold and maybe we can inform the captain,” offered Sara.

Come to find out, everybody knew Sara, Taylor and Allie as famous first class passengers. As the days went by, they swam 49

in the ship’s pool, played cards, ate fancy dinners and got to experience the time period.

Sunday night was quickly approaching. They were worried about the voyage so right after the radio communicator hung up with the Carpathia (another ship nearby), Sara, Allie and Taylor hurried to the captain’s office and told him about the upcoming disaster. But, the captain would not believe them.

They were all crying trying to convince him, but he still wouldn’t budge.

The sudden impact came too soon.

All the passengers felt the ship vibrate from the collision. Most of them just thought it was thunder until someone screamed, “We hit an iceberg!” Everyone was panicking, but Allie and her friends stayed calm. As the band was playing, the girls tried to calm the other passengers down. The time was 2:10 A.M. and the women and children were sent out in the life boats. But, Allie and her friends were still on the ship facing impending doom.

All of the older children that remained behind were holding onto the railing like their life depended on it (and it did!). Finally, Allie looked down and realized that she had red sparkly shoes on. So, she started screaming, “THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME,” as she clicked her heals together.

“Really, this is not the time for jokes, Allie!” Taylor yelled.

Again, a flash of light appeared and Allie, her two friends, along with all the passengers that remained on board instantly returned to the costume shop.

“Did you all have a nice time?” asked Edith, the shop owner. All Allie and her two friends could do was go to give Edith a big hug, almost knocking her down. The girls left the costume shop, talking about their amazing adventure. The passengers found homes in the city (taking a while to adjust to their new lives). It was very dark outside. As Al50

lie looked back, all she could see was Edith’s black cat (it was 2:21 A.M. after all).

If this story seems a bit unbelievable, look in a book about the Titanic and you will find photos of Allie and her friends in poofy dresses. How can this be? My name is Allie and I survived the Titanic.

Allison Petty Grade 6 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George

Special Memories with My Papaw

My papaw is a very special man to me. He is a loving, caring man that loves to help anyone in need. He always has a smile that covered his whole face. He loves giving special toys to kids that don’t have a lot for Christmas. I am one lucky girl to have such a wonderful papaw who I have so many wonderful memories with.

Every time My family and I went to my papaw’s house, he would let me feed the baby calves. They were black and white. He taught me how to make the milk. You just take warm water and the milk powder and mix them together, then you put it in a calf bottle. “Make sure you hold onto the bottle tight,” my papaw said, ”Or the baby calves will take it away.” We had such a great time in the barn.

Also, I loved going to my papaw’s house and watching certain TV shows with him.

We watched “Alaska The Last Frontier,” “Moonshine,” and “Gold Rush.” We watched those shows before and while he was sick. Papaw used to tease my mom by saying, “I’m going to make us some moonshine, so we can become rich.” He always made us laugh. Papaw and I had very special memories together.

Wednesday, 2015, was the night I got my trophy. It was graduation night at church. I went to show my papaw afterwards, because he was sick. He looked at it, smiled, and said, “I am so proud of you, and I wish I was there to see you get it.” I will never forget how happy he was to see me with my trophy. It was amazing.

Unfortunately, my papaw got sick and passed away with cancer, he was a very special man to me and always will be. He would do anything for me. He loved watching TV together with me, showing me how to feed baby calves, and showing him things that I have earned. I will always miss my papaw, but I know that he will always be with me. He is my hero.

Marissa Ray Grade 6 Rhea Middle School Denise Jenkins 51

That’s No Way to Raise a Boy

It was a cold, bitter, dark morning. I was a second grader, attending Woodstation Elementary. I stepped out of the car and just stood. My father drove away, and I just stood, thinking.

School is something usually not enjoyed. (especially as a salty second grader.)

I thought about my schedule, my day, every second of school, and I realized something.

Why stay inside? We had recess, giving us easy access to the outdoors. Nobody checked for the students, they just said, “Come In!” and we obeyed. Why not disobey?

I finally went inside and went through school as usual. 1st block droned on, 2nd block took forever, and 3rd block was quite the drag, but I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. One I’d never frolicked in before.

I sat at my desk in home room. I felt sweat covering my skin, my blood rushed through my body, making me begin to shake, my world began to close in around me, until I heard those words. The words that made it all disappear.

“Time for recess!”

Every kid from every class shot up from their seats, excitement coursing through their veins. I trailed behind, feeling sick to my stomach. Each minute of recess, usually so blissful, was now staring at me with mal intent.

Then the bell rang. Finally, everything I had planned for lead up to this moment. I hid, I waited for everyone to leave plus a few minutes for extra caution.

“YES! I have bested you, school scum! You now stand beneath me! I am a truly free boy! YES!” I thought excitedly.

This tremendous feeling of achieve52

ment lasted for quite a while as I did every activity I cherished so much in a regular recess. I stepped on the frosted grass and heard it CRUNCH under the weight of my feet. To any normal civilian, that sounded like every other crunch sound, but to me it sounded like freedom.

Of course, all good things come to an end, for, late in the day, dark clouds began to roll in across the sky. They were like an abyss going far beyond any length imaginable. Being a young, ignorant second grader, I paid no heed to this event, and continued to play and frolic.

Winds began to blow. The air become humid. Soon, the “pitter-patter” of rain hitting the ground began. I panicked. I did what any reasonable child would do in this situation. Run.

I sprinted. I could feel the clouds chasing me. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins until… I reached safety. The pavilion.

I slowed down to think. I thought for awhile.

I walked over to the edge of the shelter, so close that I could touch the rain with my tongue. I turned toward the sky and yelled with all of my frustration, “WHY ARE YOU TESTING ME?!”

This was about the time that a concerned custodian burst out into the rain. Now, I gave up. I stood up and stared. I was done for. Once safely back in my homeroom class with a fluffy towel around my shoulders, the anger and frustration of my teacher came down upon me like a ton of bricks. I was scared for the rest of my elementary school career, and trust me, I never tried anything like this again.

Owen Tollett Grade 6 Heritage Middle School Kim Reeves

Untitled Today was the day I got my report card.

My heart was racing. I did not know what to expect. I opened it up and I saw a C. My heart sank like the titanic. I had no words. What were my parents going to say? Would they be upset?

A few days later we went in to talk to my teachers about my grades. I was biting my nails, and felt like I was a failure. We talked for what seemed like forever. I heard all these things that I was doing wrong. Like not paying attention and rushing through work to get things done quicker. Tears were running down my face like raindrops falling off umbrellas.

The next day I went to school I felt like I could not do anything. My work was sloppy and I was not trying. We took a test that day I was struggling.

Then my teacher said, “ I believe in you.” I thought about that as I went on with my work. That night when I went home that is all I could think about. Like when a kid can not stop thinking candy.

Soon enough I was asking my teacher how to improve. I was trying not to think about the mistakes I made but how to fix them. She told me to practice a little more and maybe ask someone to help me out. My parents and teachers really encouraged me to work hard, and not be afraid to ask for help. I was now thinking happy thoughts and definitely feeling more confident in my work but also myself.

Although my life was not perfect after all that, I knew everyone off all shapes and sizes made mistakes. I knew I was not alone. Even though there were some tears shed I knew it would all pay off in the end. Like in a story in the end it all works out. So I have hopes that it will happen to me.

I woke up on a bright Friday morning. Everything was peaceful and calm. Something big is happening today. I got dressed and headed out for school. The time was flying by in the last 5 minutes of class something big was happening. I was trying to stay calm and remember the peaceful words my teacher said.

“I believe in you”. I was saying these words over and over in my brain. When I looked at my desk I saw a piece of paper. All I knew is if I make a mistake I will learn from it. I also knew if people believe in me I need to believe in myself. I opened it. My heart was pounding.

I saw that C turn into a B. I was so happy with myself. I could not believe it. I felt like I had done something incredible.

Like going down Niagara falls in a barrel. I told my teacher thank you. She said if you believe you will succeed.

Lauren Wilson Grade 6 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sara Clarich 53

Grade 7 Poetry

54

The Wailing The wailing.

I hear it in the distance and it sends shivers down my spine.

It haunts me.

What is it?

The wailing.

It gets louder as it gets closer.

Goosebumps everywhere.

I clench my teeth and hands.

The wailing.

My door slowly opens.

I hide under my covers and squeeze my eyes shut.

I hold my breath and tremble with terror.

Waiting.

Then‌ I wake up.

Nightmare.

Leyusew Barnes Grade 7 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 55

Poems I hate poems.

They’re for girls.

Like me hating roller coasters, they will make me hurl.

Poems will make you think, poems will make me ache.

Nicholas Lathop Grade 7 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Shelley George 56

Untitled The Ants Are Coming!

Oh no the Ants Are mad!

This lad may be scared a tad.

The army look like it’s very large, I would hate to meet the man in charge!

The Ants are red and of the stinging kind, If I tell them to stop, they definitely won’t mind The hill is much larger than I have ever seen, But the Ants will only bite me in their dreams!

Oh no!

THE ANTS ARE COMING! I had better take off running!

I run and run as fast as I can, But they will never catch me because I am the man!

Silas Miller Grade 7 Normal Park Museum Magnet Sarah Andrews 57

Grade 7 Prose

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Potomac Beach

Potomac Beach at George Washington’s birthplace is not your typical beach. As you walk down a narrow, sandy path to the beach, you notice that there are no crowds of people with their sunburns, striped umbrellas, beach chairs, and coolers. In fact, on a good day, you might not have to share the beach with anyone. If you close your eyes and listen, you hear the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, or the buzz of a bee gathering nectar from a wildflower, or the cries of the gulls who make the beach their home. Wandering along the narrow beach, you feel the crunching of seashells under your feet and realize there are thousands of them sparkling in the sand. Here and there, silver-grey driftwood pokes out of the sand, ready to trip an unwary beachcomber. Some may prefer to go to a larger beach with more action, but I prefer the quietness and solitude of Potomac Beach.

Leyusew Barnes Grade 7 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 59

And Then There Was Darkness

I opened my eyes for the first time in one hundred years today. And then I closed them. You try looking at fluorescent lighting as soon as you wake up! They are bright! My mother and father are to be woken up the day after tomorrow, and my brother (lucky duck) who woke up last week, saw me come out of the hospital and ran and embraced me. As I look at my surroundings I smile, the pleasant darkness of earth is comforting. But when I really looked around I was amazed! The hover cars and stilted buildings have been vastly updated! I peered over the balcony at the ice-covered world where humans can live if they are strong enough. I much prefer it here in the high city of Canopity. It was built over 2,000 years ago to protect valued members of the community from the icy terrain below.

My brother is a plane engineer and my mother is a scientist. I thank my lucky stars every day I get to live here.

I eased myself into the hover car, the soft seat enveloping me in a cozy hug. The seat-beltless hover cars were a brand new thing when I was put into suspended animation. I love them! When the hover car stopped at a ration bank, I looked at my brother quizzically and he stepped out apologetically.

“I have to pick up more food for us. I haven’t had to get any food this past week but now that you and mom and dad are coming home, I have to get ready.”

“It’s fine “ I reply, too tired to argue, “I will just go home and settle in.”

My brother typed in the location on the hover cars control panel and walked toward the ration bank, disappearing into the darkness. I got home late afternoon after a twenty minute hover flight. My old house seemed warm and inviting. I settled into my 60

hover swing, setting it to rock as I snapped the holographic remote into my hand and turn on the iScreen. I watch the news from the past one hundred years. I have missed so much!

“Mayor Passes Law that Hover Cars Must Require the ‘Huggable Seats’ Instead of Seatbelts.”

“Protests for Ration Banks to Close after Rumor a Scientist has Invented a Botanical Robot.”

“Protesters Apologize, After Finding Out the Robot was Fake.”

I laugh, “Silly protesters!” Everyone knows that plants take three years to plant, grow, and harvest. That’s the whole reason I was in suspended animation; that’s the whole reason half of the city’s population was in suspended animation! Because of limited resources, there was eventually going to be the destruction of us all. Somehow I found my way into celebrity news and gossip. None of it really interested me until something caught my eye.

“Best Seller Book Leaves our World Loving this Fantasy world which Amy Backet has Masterfully Created.”

I download the book on my iScreen; its called Sun after three hours I finally put the book down for a minute to rest my eyes.

It was amazing! It talked about a world like ours, but there is something like a lamp, that hangs in the sky but it is huge! It lights up everything for millions and billions of miles.

Suddenly I thought shouldn’t Carson be home by now? I paced back and forth worriedly. Twenty minutes went by with no message on my iScreen, and no friendly beep of a hover pulling into the front. Finally I get a beep from my iScreen! But….. wait this is from the hospital. Are mom and dad awake early? I read the message. It says:

“May Pin, your brother, Carson Pin, was admitted to our hospital two hours ago

with severe burns and injuries. He is now in emergency care receiving treatment.”

“What!’ I screamed so loud people on the surface probably heard me. “What happened!” Suddenly I get a message. This time it was a news alert.

“Many People Injured, Killed, or in Critical Condition, After Terrorist Attack at the Northside Ration Bank.”

“Those stupid terrorists!” I shrieked as tears ran down my cheeks, “You stupid, stupid, stupid….”

My words fade into sobs. The world was spinning, my head felt light, and I wanted to wake up from this horrible dream. I rushed to type in a request for a taxi hover.

Five awful minutes later, I finally heat the beep of the hover car. I couldn’t reach the hospital. fast enough. I ran inside, and screamed at the first doctor I see.

“Carson Pin! What is happening to Carson Pin? I’m his sister!”

“Calm down, let me see what I can do.” He types something into his iScreen. “ Ah Carson Pin, he is recovering from emergency surgery in wing D. He is no longer in critical condition, but…” the doctor paused “parts of his body were too badly burned so they had to be replaced with cybernetic technology.”

“What?” I croaked out choking down sobs.

“Your brother is now a cyborg.”

A few hours later I watch my brother as he slept in a medically induced coma. His left leg was now a chunk of metal albeit an advanced technological chunk of metal, but a chunk of metal all the same. What makes it a million times worse is that cyborgs are not allowed to live in Canopity! They are considered dangerous and are sent down to the surface, where there is no food, homes, or transportation provided. You have to hunt, farm, and walk places. My brother will not survive!

His leg is a death sentence.

Abby Fisk Grade 7 Silverdale Baptist Academy Scheloe Woodson 61

Meeting a Famous Role Model

“Alright guys, wake up! Today is the day you guys perform!” exclaims our counselor.

My arms and legs seem to groan as I shift in bed. I feel the warm, glowing rays of the sun on my face, and I open one eye slowly, making sure my eyes adjust to the bright light shining through my window. As I open my eyes, I forget that I am at camp, in the Highlander Folk School. I see all the other teenage boys stir from their beds, and the counselor leaves the room. I finally slide out of bed, as slow as a snail. I flinch when my bare feet touch the cold floor. Once I am dressed, I head down the hall for breakfast, the delicious smell of toast and eggs waft through the air.

My friend catches up to me and asks, “Are you ready to play the piano tonight?”

My eyes light up, and a grin slowly slides across my face. Wanting to eat breakfast right away, I speed down the hall, like a energized cheetah, running after its prey, and turn the corner to the cafeteria. After I finished breakfast, my counselor excuses us to go practice for the performance. I finally get to practice!

I stride over to the music room, and sit down on the leathery seat. I stroke the shiny white keys and the black polished body of the piano, and then I start to play. After hours of practicing, my counselor comes in.

“Time to get dressed for the performance Roland!”

I quickly bounce out of the seat, and then I speed-walk down the hall towards the living quarters. I am so excited, I can barely hold in a laugh. I slip into my finest outfit and brush my teeth then head towards the room where I will perform.

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“Do you have everything you need?” one of the camp staff members ask.

I nod my head and step onstage, taking deep breaths. When I step onstage, I can hear the waiting silence of the audience. I sit down at the piano and start to play, my fingers gliding over the keys. A wave of happiness and glee sways over me. I play high and low notes, and when I stand up, the crowd claps and whistles loudly. Some people have gaping mouths, signifying how unbelievable I am.

I gaze towards the back of the room, and catch a glance of someone who looks like the first lady. After a couple of seconds, I realize that the woman is actually Eleanor Roosevelt. A smile appears on my face as I watch her walk down the rows of chairs that have been set up for the guests. I just played the piano for Eleanor Roosevelt, and she is coming towards me!

As she comes closer, a couple of staff members rush towards Eleanor, to thank her for attending the performance. Once she got to me, she congratulated me, and then shook my hand. Her smile lit up the whole room, and her outfit was outstanding. He eyes were full of joy, and her teeth were very white.

“Your performance was amazing Mr. Carter! You are going to make so many people happy when you grow up!” Eleanor said with glee.

“Thank you so very much Mrs. Roosevelt!” I answered back, my cheeks red with praise.

We talked for a while, chatting about her latest projects, and about my performance. Before she walked away, I asked her to take a picture with her, and I had one of the staff members to take it. More people congratulated me, and we ate dinner with the guests. Our counselor told us to head to bed afterwards.

While I was getting ready for bed, I

had a lot of time to reflect on my day. I got to meet Eleanor Roosevelt and I played the piano for her! I can’t wait to tell my mom, and I will remember this day for ever!

Nora Greaser Grade 7 Normal Park Museum Magnet Sarah Andrews 63

That Night

The only thing I remember are smiles and laugher, but then it was gone. My name is Ella Smith. I don’t know how old I am or anything about my family except for that one night, the night that I felt safe and happy, but now everything is different and all I do is hide. I hide from the Nazis and even my people. Ever since that night I feel like a danger to my people. I feel like it was my fault my family got torn apart and maybe even killed. I sometimes dream of freedom, but I know I’ll never get it. I was lucky enough to escape my house, I don’t expect the lord to give me any more favors, at least not a big one like that.

As I fell asleep one night I heard footsteps, light footsteps coming my way, as I open my eyes, I started to run. I ran throw the alley and I ended up between two pipe lines. As the footprints got closer, I prayed nothing bad would happen, I could start to see the person, Liam Court.

“Liam is it you,” I said peaking my head out. He nodded his head and started walking.

“Where are you going, don’t you remember me, Ella Smith?” He nodded his head once again, “Well, where are you going?”

“Away, that’s where, far, far away.”

He said madly.

“Where and well, how?”

“I don’t know but somewhere else, and I’ll walk that’s how!”

I didn’t know what to say. He seemed mad. I don’t even know why he would be.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I got to go!” He said softly.

I wouldn’t let him go if I thought something was wrong, so I went up to him and pushed him to the wall.

“Tell me… NOW!” I said with a tone.

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“I would, but, it could end my chance of freedom.”

“What do you mean ‘your chance’?” I asked him

“When they attacked our families, I told them I would do anything to spare my families lives. So I helped them find everyone’s weakness and develop a plan to hurt the ones who do wrong, everything was going good till they said there was a change in plans. I walked into a room and found my parents tied up, then they killed them, they said they would let me go and have a free life.”

I didn’t know what to say or do, so I started yelling, I didn’t even know half the stuff I said I just was really shocked. After I stopped, I walked away and started crying.

He stood there and looked at me, then turned around and started to walk the opposite way.

“How can you just walk away after that!” I said turning around facing him.

“There’s nothing else I can do!” He responded.

“There is plenty you can do!”

“They’re going to take us out one by one for every little mistake we do.” He told me.

“Thanks.” I told him smiling. “Help me, help me stop this!”

“I can’t, I really can’t.” He said.

“Yes you can, just like you told me their plans to hurt us! I have a plan, please, just trust me!”

“One chance, and only one chance!”

I told him how we can tell everyone what not to do, like all the weaknesses Liam told them, and when the annual meeting in the town center happens, we can make our move.

He told me he’ll do it, but only for his people. I nodded and started walking for the Jude family house, then the Williams, and the rest of town. We almost got caught several times, but thank goodness for the alleys. It’s been

a month and no one has been killed and today’s the town meeting. I’m hunched down behind the Town Hall ready to give orders, and the mayor just started the meeting. I radioed Liam and told him it’s almost go time so give the signal. The lights went out and the video Liam and I made came on.

“Now Liam, NOW!” I screamed.

As I’m running toward a guard I prayed that if my family is alive nothing will happen to them, and that we will finally get our happy ending. I’m running and running praying and praying, till the end.

Emma Johnston Grade 7 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Sarah Andrews 65

Mysteries

Death. It’s said to be the greatest mystery. That no human has ever truly been there, and been able to come back to tell of it. Well, that may be true, but Death is not the greatest mystery.

No, because that would be life. It would be to live. Because no human knows what the future holds for them, and while in death they may get their answers, in life they never will. The sea is a mystery, secrets to unfold. It hides hundreds of stories yet to be told. The seagulls and the starfish whisper the tales. The ships, yachts and boats raise their sails. The blue waves whisper of the secrets of the deep. Of mountain heights, of pathways steep, the voice of the water is loud and clear. There are many mysteries still lying here.

Nathan Kozlica Grade 7 Normal Park Museum Magnet Sarah Andrews 66

The Golden Slip

One morning, Izzy Gordon decided to get up extra early so she could make waffles. She slowly got up out of bed and crept downstairs. When she got to the bottom of the stairs she stepped on her cat, Muffin’s tail.

Her cat let out a loud screech and ran under the beige colored sofa.

“I hope that didn’t wake up Timmy,” she thought. Izzy had two siblings, Timmy, who was two and Layla, who would be six in November. Izzy was the oldest, she was fifteen. She walked into the kitchen to get the frozen waffles. The only ones they had were blueberry, and Izzy hated blueberries, so she made a bowl of cereal.When she finished her bowl of cereal, she went and put it in the sink.

“You better rinse that out and put it in the dishwasher young lady,” her dad said in a playful, but serious tone.

“Ok I will,” Izzy said while dragging her feet to the dishwasher.

Izzy lives in a small town called Aton, and the population is around 8,000 people.

Aton barely gets any rain, and the sun is always shining, except for today. She looked outside, and the sky was extremely dark, almost like it was going to storm.

She asked her dad, “Why is it so dark outside?”

Her dad went over to the sink and pulled back the curtain above it and said, “Well that’s odd.”

“Well I better go to school now,” she said.

She walked down the narrow street and turned the corner to Aton High. She walked up the stairs and read a sign on the front door that said “No school due to flooding.”

“That’s weird,” she thought while walking down the stairs. Then she saw a man

dressed in a business suit walking a hamster and handing out papers to people. She wasn’t sure of what they were, because she could only see the outline of them.

She walked over to him and asked “What are you handing out?”

“Papers,” he replied. Izzy looked at the papers.

“There’s nothing on them,” she said.

“Yes there is,” he replied.

“Can you see people?” she asked.

“Only in your head,” he said. The man turned the corner.

“What’s that supposed to mean!” she yelled after him. Izzy walked down the street and turned the corner and saw a golden piece of paper.

“What’s this?” she thought as she picked up the paper. “There’s nothing on it,” she thought. Something told her to keep it, even though she thought it was useless.

As she walked, she picked up every gold paper she could find. She went to the school and opened the doors.

“There’s no flooding,” she thought.

“Maybe there are more clues here,” Izzy looked around the first floor and found nothing. Izzy started to feel dizzy, but she was too busy thinking about the gold papers, that she ignored it. All of a sudden the lights flickered.

“That’s creepy, there must be a malfunction in the system or something,” she thought. Izzy became more light-headed and passed out. Izzy had a dream about twelve gold pieces of paper that had the numbers six, three, and four written on each one. Izzy woke up and thought of the numbers very hard to try and see what they meant.

“This school has four floors and I have twelve pieces of paper, but what could the six mean?” she wondered as she walked down the hall. When she got to the middle of the hallway, she noticed that the teacher’s hotboxes were slightly glowing. There were 67

six hotboxes that were glowing.

“What could the number six mean?” she thought. She decided to put six golden papers in the boxes. The boxes stopped glowing.

“I have six left,” she said while trying to figure out what to do next. She put one more gold paper into each box, and the boxes started glowing again.

“That can’t be right,” she said while taking out the other six pieces of paper. She made her way to the fourth floor. When she got there, she noticed a slight glowing light coming from the end of the hall.

She ran to the end of the hall, and there were six more glowing hotboxes. She put the other six golden papers in the hotboxes, and they too stopped glowing. Then what seemed to be an earthquake happened, and she fell and hit the side of her head, which knocked her out.

When she woke up, she was at the nurse’s station at school.

“Wher- where am I?” she stuttered while sounding confused.

“You’re at the nurse’s station, Ms. Gordon,” the nurse said while walking into the small room.

“I can see you!” Izzy exclaimed sounding relieved.

“What?” the nurse asked.

“It’s a long story,” Izzy said.

“Ok, well your mom is on her way to get you.” A few minutes later, she could hear her mom talking to the nurse.

“Izzy! What happened!” her mom exclaimed, while walking into the small room.

“Well, she fell in the hallway and hit her head. She has a slight concussion, but nothing to serious,” said the nurse.

Izzy and her mom walked to the car and headed home.

“Did you feel that earthquake?”

“What earthquake?” her mom asked.

“Did you not feel that?” Izzy asked.

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“No honey, there was no earthquake,” said her mom. Izzy was silent.

“Should I tell her about the golden papers? No, I mean she didn’t even believe me about the earthquake,” Izzy thought to herself.

They stopped at a red, light and Izzy looked to the left. There was a movie theater, and one of the movie posters was a man and a hamster giving out gold paper, and the movie was called “The Golden Slip”.

“Was that the man I saw walking down the street?” Izzy thought. Confused and shocked, Izzy put her head on the headrest and fell asleep.

Anna Lawson Grade 7 Silverdale Baptist Academy Connie Regal

Grade 8 Poetry

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Unititled A blotch of paint A grain of sand Is all of our value In this great land A tiny pebble In an infinite lot Is precisely our size Or is it not?

A blade of grass In an endless range Can any of us Truly make a change?

There is so much else Besides just me So is there worth In finding glee?

In a pit of darkness We will one day fall So what is the point Of living at all?

No! There has to be meaning It has to exist Our lives cannot end In a deep, dark abyss You cannot give up I won’t let you die And I know what you’re thinking Why, then? Just why?

I’ll tell you just why So you understand That you are worth more Than a simple grain of sand 70

As your own abilities Are unique and so rare You must know they’re important It’s what you need to share Because you really have something And it’s something we need So hang onto your hope And with it you will lead

Timothy Barron Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 71

Untitled With the fresh smell in the air and a tingle of steam on my nose The pages flutter open, never wanting to close A girl with curly hair A boy with mighty powers Every story I want to devour Magic kingdoms, far off places fill my imagination Twists and turns fill me with strong anticipation My eyes skim at full force over the words, searching for solutions Page by page, word by word I start to feel emotions Tears pooling Anger boiling Laughter slowly controlling I feel like I am floating I am Fighting Dying Loving I blink my eyes revealing a room I left long ago Reality has brought me back where I didn’t want to go I try to flip the page But there is nothing there The story is done, longing feels the air I check again, just in case, only to be filled with despair My friends will continue on alone Leaving me to sit in my chair The story filled bookshelf beckons my stare But I still mourn the loss of friends who were rare I wish I could be there Where everything was just right But I know that is not possible, because this is real life I pick up another to end my fantasy longing Quickly I’m sucked back in, where I read until the morning Riley Bellamy Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 72

Flaming Everything is constantly burning Everyone is always staring At the surrounding flames I always feel so alive With my hot burning flames People stare in awe or fear But I don’t care A golden glow A burning gaze A painful touch A smoky haze No one comes close They are too afraid They all hide away Like the night and day But I don’t care what they say I’ll just be me

Jasmine Bickel Grade 8 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Jane Varnell 73

My Crazy Math Teacher Yes, my crazy math teacher Is an out of this world space creature.

Graham crackers in lessons To simplify expressions Strangeness is her shining feature

Colin Burgess Grade 8 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 74

My Angel Hustling, bustling through the years, Days, weeks, hours, minutes.

They question me.

Oh, the usual ones.

Lots of them.

Some more complex.

I think. I ponder. I smile, and turn my head To look at my angel.

“Don’t worry,” I say.

“We won’t,” they say, “But you?”

I will not worry. Never, no never.

My angel knows all.

No risks here.

Speeding, warping throughout time.

I find myself standing with two paths ahead.

They call behind their backs.

This way or that?

We’ve decided, have you?

I shake my head.

Not me, I say.

I look to my angel waiting beside me.

My angel will decide for me instead.

Rumbling, tumbling through time More and more.

At last I have found the one I adore.

They come at me.

All of a sudden.

As if they have known me all of this time.

They tell me to hurry.

That time will run out.

“How about you wait this time,” I say As I slide a ring onto the most precious finger I’ve ever known.

They are silent. They are watching. But not at us.

“What’s that?” I say.

I look past the one I adore.

And there, I see my angel nodding its head.

See, I tell them.

My angel knew all.

My angel brought us here.

Sarah Cate Grade 8 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Jane Varnell 75

The Beach The beach is a place to go where you can have time to just let go.

Let yourself be swallowed up by the waves or catch a fish trying to swim away.

See the colors reflect off the surface, they bounce off and ripple when you resurface.

The sand soft on your feet and the gentleness of the cool breeze takes your mind away from everything you please.

Breathe in the moist salty air and just let yourself unwind without a lingering care.

With the sun shining overhead and the sea clouds dancing up ahead There can really be no room for doubt and sadness when all around you joy is abounding.

Laughing, slashing, playing, and dashing the sound is really astounding.

The ocean is the place to go where you can have time to just let go.

Joseph Franke Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 76

I Am Like Glass

I am like glass Drop me and I’ll break Step on me and I’ll cut you Just like the northern lights We are beautiful inside and out So spread light and love wherever you go Then people will long to see you Help people believe in their dreams And know that anything is possible Remember that you are a smart person Who brings joy to the world So let your bright light of positivity and optimism shine People can confuse openness with rudeness But through generosity and forgiveness See hope in the world See hope in yourself Be you Don’t let anyone dull your shine

Jacqueline Hall Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet School Katherine Blake 77

Sing to the Sky I’ll cut through the mirage of lies to the bright blue sky behind it, I’ll spend forever flying I’ll be singing to the sky It’s our regrets that we’ll forget, be rest assured, We’ll look for tomorrow with our might Seeking out, all the lies I’ve been told, It leaves me drowning, but I’m moving on, You can’t tell me how to be, Nothing else is stopping me, Frustration Humiliation They fuel me, to carve the road I walk on!

I’ll cut through the mirage of lies to the bright blue skies behind it, I’ll spend forever flying I’ll be singing to the sky It’s our regrets that we’ll forget, be rest assured, We’ll look for tomorrow with our might, We’ll fight on once again!

Justin Hawkins Grade 8 Chattanooga School for the Liberal Arts Jane Varnell 78

A Little Girl with Big Problems Martha Gate, Just barely eight Was a very lively girl.

She loved to sing, to dance, to play, To twist and spin and whirl.

But Martha Gate, just barely eight, Had a problem oh so big.

She couldn’t find her dad anywhere But mom always called him a pig.

She didn’t know much about him, Except that he was loud, He would only visit sometimes Gloomy eyes, no hair, head bowed.

So Martha Gate, just barely eight, Decided she wanted to know.

All the things about her dad, And where exactly he would go.

Martha approached her mom, With a sparkle in her step.

‘I’ll fix her a glass of soda’ she thought.

‘Cause mom could use some pep’ Martha gave mom the drink, Then slowly sat down.

“Mom, where’s my dad?” she said But mom instead just frowned.

“He’s far away sweetie, and he’s not coming back.

The last time he came He was only here to pack.

We got a divorce Martha, I know that’s a scary word There used to be three of us Now there is no third.”

79

So Martha Gate, barely eight, didn’t know what to think.

A tear dropped from her mother’s eyes Every time that she would blink.

So Martha hugged mom And said it was okay Because mom had Martha And Martha’s there everyday.

Martha walked away in silence To go to her room.

And bounce on her bed Just like every afternoon.

And Martha Gate, just barely eight Decided she didn’t want to know All the places dad went Where exactly he would go.

Because Martha Gate was only eight She didn’t want to attempt To understand what was going on Because she was quite content.

Elise Hayen Grade 8 Heritage Middle School Billie Carlock 80

Untitled Night Calming, quiet Dream, Relax and Sleep Nighttime is kind, soft Peaceful

Jessica Johnson Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 81

Questions Under Eyelids This body is foreign to me.

This mouth disrupting my flow of words These legs tripping me when I dance I a prisoner trapped in myself.

I wish to brush the sky.

Meet the sun in her eyes And rise aside her.

Feel the water enclosing me A breath a want My lungs a memory.

Let me sit atop a star See smoke and ash rise The need to cough far.

Let me walk the earth without feet When I only stop to rest my mind Let me touch the snow And leave cold at bay.

This body burns my words Smoke left in their wake Ash flowing Lost in the wind.

This body makes the first move A race My mind losing Before making an effort And I feel the weight of millions of eyes On my shoulders My hair unable to tame My tears slip too easily A breath I can’t catch.

I stare into my eyes A pale blue returns, Who is this?

They ask.

Set us free I close my eyes And ask them to wait Another day.

Ashley McDonough Grade 8 Chattanooga Center for the Creative Arts Sandra Howard 82

Nights Like These Nights like these Where the stars have lost their shine.

Where the moon is forever stuck as new.

Where lights absence Has become the normality.

Where I lay awake wishing, That the next blink would be my last.

To end all these raging thoughts Running along behind These bloodshot eyes And chipping away at what’s Left of my distant friend, sanity, Who never calls anymore.

Yes, nights like these are where My life spends its ticking time away.

Wondering if there was still A sun left in me to rise and bring day, Back to this body whose entangled itself Between the sharp teeth of Darkness’ wicked grin.

It’s nights like these Where you’ve infected every thought I have.

Where your name is spelt out In all capital letters, Bolded Underline.

Where its screamed endlessly Until my head is ready to burst.

Where my fingers try to claw you out of my mind And free these thoughts encaged by my skull.

83

But on nights like these, I yearn for all the questions asked To have answers.

And there’s this part of me, A large chunk to be exact.

That doesn’t want these thoughts of you To be gone.

Despite the torture I’m put through, Every single night.

Because now I realized that, Thinking of you Will be the closest I’ll ever be, To being with you.

Nights like these Are where the battles of this war are fought, On unfamiliar land.

Me vs. me.

Soldiers fallen, Revenge served, Treaties never to be signed.

Fighting till the victor is the only one Left standing.

Unknowing that this war will end In only remnants, Stinking of the breath of death, And a winner a rotting corpse.

Maybe the death of me, Can finally be the death, Of nights like these.

Mei Nelson Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 84

In Which I Close My Eyes Getting older, and better, Life has gotten me through it all.

Every second, Every minute, Every hour, I have gotten through it all.

Every problem, Has a solution, And every day is a new beginning, To every ending in which I close my eyes.

Saheli Patel Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Jacob Cash 85

Starry Night Black, pitch black. It’s as dark as a black stallion with a knight on his back.

You can’t see a thing except for the little stars in the sky. Maybe, if you’re lucky, one might fall out of line and shoot through the sky and you could possibly make a wish as it passes by.

The moon is almost full. A little girl peeks through her window to catch a glimpse. She tries to stand tall but finally, she uses a stool.

Teenagers lay under it in amazement. It’s more beautiful than they could ever imagine.

Nothing could ever come close to being a replacement.

It sure is an amazing sight to see. So vast and free. Maybe one day you can view it from the mountains of Tennessee.

Anne Marie Thurman Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 86

Untitled In the back of the classroom Out of thought, out of mind.

Almost no one knows them Because no one gives them time.

They do work the best of anyone But yet say no words.

And at the few moments they speak We still do not notice.

You can have them in all your classes But barely know their name.

You may be able to see them But they are invisible.

So I mostly hope You change the world in the smallest ways.

By acknowledging one’s existence You may now see the truth of others

Zachary Werner Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 87

I Am From

I am from home From cat air and ugly couches From the house up and down the hill With broken porch railings and tinted windows I am from home where the sunlight leaks through the tree branches From the house with antique sun sculptures covering the wall, drenched in rust

I am from home From uncomfortable chairs and slow ceiling fans I am from the home with quilts hanging on the walls From bright, vibrant clover patches scattered throughout the lawn I am from blankets filled with holes and old mattresses passed down from father to son I am from home

Mason Young Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake 88

Grade 8 Prose

89

Why Me

All I remember was being taken by the cops. I remember seeing my mom crying.

And I heard my dad was dying. I didn’t know what to do. I was only four when this all happened. I was a four year old struggling to hold my baby brother in both arms. With my little two year old sister tugging at my ripped up shirt. I teared up and as a cop took my little brother and another grabbed my hand and put me in the car. I tried to ask what was going on but I couldn’t find my voice. I started sobbing when I heard my little sister yelling for my mom. I looked back and watched my mom on the floor yelling. Reaching towards me. I looked at one of the cops to see her expression. To see if her face gave away anything. When I looked at her she was looking back at me. Her face said everything will be ok. When I looked over at my little brother sleeping in my sister’s arms I knew, everything was not going to be okay. I couldn’t figure out why it happened to me. I wondered “Why me?”

I remember after a couple of hours of driving, we stopped in front of a house that had a huge gate. My little sister is asleep against my shoulder and my brother sound asleep. I wondered maybe everything will be ok. I tried to tell myself that everything will be. The girl cop came and opened the door and took me out by grabbing my hand. I walked to the front of the house and waited for my sister to come by my side. I held my little brother in my arms as the cop opened the gates. When we walked in I saw a bunch of kids, all muddy and not so well dressed. I followed the cops as they led me to a room on the other side of the house. I looked around and saw all the kids staring and it wasn’t a good stare. The cops knocked on the door and a woman walked out. She was nice look90

ing but she looked really tired. When she saw me she smiled. But I didn’t smile back. She called me cute and took my brother and told me she’ll give him a bed to sleep in. I was still clueless as to what was going on. So I let her take him. The cop told me to go play with the kids. I was still thinking, “Why me?”

I went to play with the kids. But they all seemed to avoid me. So I went to a corner and sat down in dirt. My sister followed but didn’t get far. The cop came towards us and told me my sister had to go with them. And I started crying and yelling “no” I kept yelling no but the cop didn’t care. She took my sister and went through the gates. And I got mad because they took me from my parents then took my sister. I started crying and wondering, “Why me?” I sat there trying to see what just happened. I couldn’t think straight. I just figured that I’m going to be alone forever.

One day I was walking my little sister back to the orphanage and I’m like six years old or something like that. I didn’t see any cars coming and I told my sister to not cross the road and follow me. When I reached the other side I saw that she was crossing. As I yelled at her to go back to the other side, a car came speeding down the road and hit her. I broke into tears as I saw her fly through the air. I couldn’t breathe and I started having a panic attack. I saw her laying there and yelled and cried. The person that came out tried to calm me down and keep me from running to my sister. I hit and yelled and kicked at the person. I couldn’t look at my sister anymore.

It was when I almost got away from the person when I felt hands on me. I couldn’t see straight. I tried to breathe but I couldn’t catch a breath. The hands picked me up and took me inside the house. They laid me down on a bathroom floor and tried to hold me still, I heard little whispers saying calm down but I couldn’t. How am I supposed to calm down when I just watched my little sister flying

through the air and lying cold on the road? I didn’t calm down. Someone gave me hot water. I didn’t care. I drank it and it some how cooled me a little. I sat there being rocked back and forth crying in agony wondering, “Why me?” Someone came in and told me she was alive and my world came back together. I was relieved and mad. Mad that she didn’t listen to me and mad that I almost lost her. I barely get time to spend with her. When she was a baby she didn’t have a liver. So she wasn’t going to survive, so my dad gave he a piece of his since he was dying anyways. So I was scared of losing her. Scared of losing anyone I love, I hate being in pain. I just want to be happy.

Many nights I think about everything, and wonder why these bad things always happen to me. Why does it always have to be me.

People are mean to me and don’t even know what Ii’m going through. They keep doing it.

I wish that people stop being cruel to people.

Even the ones that are in pain. I’ve got to remember that instead of saying “Why me?” in the bad situation, I should just say “Try me.”

Gabriele Elise Anderson Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 91

Untitled

Hsssssss! One slice and it’s dead; I barely notice the snakes anymore. It has been weeks in this dreadful forest, littered with long walks and constant pain. My chest heaves in and out as I struggle to find some oxygen in the horridly humid air. It’s crazy to think that just a week ago, I was back in my home, enjoying a lifestyle envied by all.

It was all perfect. We had it all.

My name is Janice. A week ago I ruled my world. It was only a small village, I’ll concede, but it was mine. I had been elected a month before they came, and I had implemented many changes, maybe too many. We had been calm before. Oppressed, but calm.

Because of me, we were not prepared for war, especially not with creatures of their strength.

It was a normal day, just like any other. Suddenly, they were there. Powerful men, all on horses, all in red, storming through our town, sparing none. We barely lasted a minute.

Those still in the town are dead, and as for the escapees, I can only wish them the best.

They have my blessing, but not much else.

As for me, optimism is limited. My left arm is useless, and I feel my legs no more.

I’ve trekked countless miles through the unrelenting heat, through a dense rainforest in which anything that does not sting is in the minority. The question is no more if I have a disease, but how many. However, I mustn’t give up. After decades of years spent studying scripture, I have learned enough lessons to fill a library with. So, as required, I continue, blazing my own path through the shrubbery. My mind wanders elsewhere however, and I am subjected to my ruthless imagination. Where am I going? What am I looking for? There is no golden light at the end of this tunnel. Where is everyone else? They cannot all be dead… can they?

92

Images flash through my head. Blood, war, cries of children. The world is truly ruthless. Most of all, I focus on my son, Niko. He was only five; I doubt he survived. He was still at school when they came. He was truly helpless. I hope it ended quickly. The last time I saw him, we were fighting. Over what, I cannot remember, but I know it was pointless. It is such a pity that this is how we spend our lives. Weak, angry, lonely. It’s a waste of our Energy, and with the little time we have in this land, we must learn to forgive our differences and enjoy them. Which brings me back to my original point. Although what has happened is tragic, it puts life into perspective. We are merely visitors of this great land.

It would be foolish of us not to take a moment to find bliss.

Hsss-- Yet another one. I take a stop in my journey. As the sun is setting and I am exhausted. My food supply is limited, if even that. Death is imminent, right around the corner. I can tell my time is soon to end. The spirits have spoken. But I am determined to find some meaning. Good men live. Great men find a reason to. My father used to preach this to me every day before he fell ill.

He was a great man, one of our villages finest spiritual leaders. He truly harnessed the Energy like no one else. I carry his principles into my dreams, preparing for a better, healthier tomorrow.

I am awoken in the middle of nighttime by a startling snap. One might assume it to be a creature, but I know better. The forest is silent at night. I jump off the ground immediately, grab my knife, and climb. The tree is easy to maneuver, much easier than the ones closer to home. I don’t settle until I have reached the canopy. I look for signs of life but see nothing but the ever present mosquitoes.

I am never faulty, I know I heard something.

And I will find it.

With a few hops I am back to the

ground, silently stalking the area for danger.

Nothing. Not a single thing. My eyesight is perfect, and possibly even better in darkness.

There must be something. But as I search and search the seconds keep ticking, turning into minutes, even hours. Yet still nothing. My chest tingles as if I am being watched, and the feeling grows on me, and in no time I am shaking violently. This is not like me; something must be wrong. And something is. Before I see him, he steps out from behind the tree and fires, stunning the otherwise silent forest with a deafening boom. A sharp pain hits my chest and is gone, all in a split second. Slowly, the forest fades away. My Energy has been released.

My name is Janice. I live among the stars now. The village is one now, not on land, but in the sky. No longer am I a subject of the Energy. I am now one with it.

Timothy Barron Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 93

Missing

It was a quiet calm morning, yet another person had gone missing. My parents were working, so I took a walk along the outskirts of the dome. While passing by the pumps of recycled water and generators I wondered where he had gone. The memorial was just being refined as a new name was carved.

As I entered my front door, I walked to the sliding door and pulled out a fresh plate of veggies. Next to my plate was my protein tablet of the day. While chewing, a familiar metallic taste filled my mouth.

I finished eating and grabbed my woolen coat as the door locked itself behind me. On my way to the factory, I saw children playing in the courtyard so oblivious to the world around us.

I opened the door as a strong scent filled the air. I waved to the other workers as I made my way through the factory. I spotted my mother in the distance cranking a machine.

“Did you hear? Another boy went missing,” I asked while I approached her.

“It’s nothing to worry about, he’ll be fine.”

I came to notice that she always said that, and I wondered exactly why. Why was she defending their disappearances? No one was ever fine.

“Ok… where is Dad?” I asked.

“He’s in the panel room down the hall,” she replied.

I stepped out and went a few doors down until I reached towards the end of the hallway. I haven’t been to the panel room in a while, so I was unfamiliar to which door it was behind. I approached the last four doors and faced towards the ones on the left.

First, I opened the one right in front 94

of me. I was presented by another doorway in a small room. I walked forward to see and unlocked chain on the door handle. I was unsure if my father or the panel room were beyond the door, but I was too curious to turn back. One, two, three, I counted in my head before I opened the door.

While I turned the handle, a ghastly stench filled my nose. I got two steps inside of the room, and my jaw dropped. I was surrounded by rotting flesh and what was left of dead bodies. My head spun for seconds while I wrapped my mind around what was prompted in front of me. My stomach fell as a petrifying realization came into my head. I shoved my head into my hands as an uncontrollable flood began to pour from my eyes.

This can’t be the truth, I thought. People need to know about this.

As the terrifying reality sank into my thoughts I shoveled myself off the ground. I looked behind a shelf when suddenly a set of eyes locked with mine. In a panic, I started to run.

“What are you doing in here?” a loud, deep voice echoed through the room.

As I entwined back through the terrifying enclosure, I looked for the door. I burst through the doorway, while the ringing sound of the chain slinging to the ground filled my ears. After sprinting down the narrow hallway, I got back to my mom.

“He’s coming!” I exhaustingly said as air finally filled my lungs.

“Who? Who’s coming?” she exclaimed.

“I found the room, and he saw me, and now he’s…”

The door busted open. Before I could catch my breath or even blink my eyes, he grabbed my arm. Another man with a gun sped through the door gripping my other arm.

“Mom! Help! Tell them to stop” I

screamed.

But there was no response. She knew what was happening. She knew it couldn’t be stopped no matter how much she wanted it.

They carried me out of the room as my mother stared, tears framing her eyes. Fury built up inside of me as I struggled to get out of their massive grips. An audience appeared within seconds to watch me get carried away.

After we entered a new room, they strapped me down and picked up a needle.

“You know what happens now, and we can’t take that risk,” the large man whispered.

A syringe injected into my neck and a thick fluid diffused into my body. I wish I could let everyone know the truth and that they’d be consuming my body for protein I thought.

But this was the end for me.

The next morning a fourteen year old boy stepped out of his house, unaware of what was in store for himself that day. He took a walk along the edges of the dome pondering the outside world and why it’s uninhabitable now. After his walk he decided to visit his parents at work.

Opening the door to the protein factory, he had no clue what was about to happen.

Samantha Crisp Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake 95

Death

I slowly peeled open my eyes to see a pool of darkness. Nothing was in site for miles and miles. It was as if the world had just stopped and gone completely dark. I started to sit up, unaware of where I was or what was happening.

“Hello!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I fall silent, hoping someone, anyone heard my call, but all I hear is my own voice crushing back towards me.

I try to stand, and realize something is holding me down. I pull and pull to try to free myself from this torture. I scream, so loud I know someone must have heard me. I scream for what feels like hours and all that returns is silence.

How did I get here? I try and try to remember something, anything, but my mind is a pit of darkness. My mind had been completely wiped of all the memories of my family and friends. Everything was gone. I could not remember any laughter or sorrows I had ever experienced. I had nothing to think about that could bring me comfort. Nothing to hold on to. No reason to live. I closed my eyes as tightly as possible, hoping all of this would just go away. I want it to go away. I ball up my hair in both my hands and pull at it.

Suddenly I hear movement in the distance. I jerk my head around and yell “Hello!

Is anyone there?” I don’t get a response, rather than a shadow moving towards me. How I saw it through the darkness? I don’t know, but I did. I feel someone’s hand gently touch my shoulder. I look up and there is nobody there, but then I hear a voice.

“You are confused, why is this?” it says.

“What do you mean? I can’t remember anything, and I don’t know where I am!”

“Calm child, all will be explained.

You have a choice and it will change your life.”

“What are you talking about? Where am I??” I scream.

“You are in the little space between life and death. You are not dead yet, but close 96

to it. This is why we don’t have much time.

You must listen to me”

“What?!” I yell, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

“Listen. You were in a horrifying car accident and have severely injured your brain. You are in a coma. The doctors don’t think they can save you and want to let you go. That’s why you are here.” the voice explains. “Your Mother passed away tragically.

They think your sister will be alright.”

I start crying. I don’t understand what is happening, but if all of this is true I know I must listen.

“Mary, you were driving the car.”

I don’t know what to do. There is no place to run. I just scream. I did this, all of this.

“No, no, no, no you are lying! Why can’t I remember any of this? Why can’t I remember my family?!”

“Mary, calm down, the crash has damaged your brain, including your memories. We have to hurry. You have a choice to make. You can go back to the world, and live.

Take care of your sister. Or you can pass, and go... you know. The only thing is, your memories will not return so you will not remember.”

I am crying so hard and my vision is fuzzy. I don’t understand at all. I won’t ever remember my family. What would be the point in living?

‘Your time is almost up, you must choose. Now. Everything that is happening right now, you will not remember, no matter what you choose.”

I close my eyes and try to control my breathing. Then I open my eyes to see blindingly bright lights meeting my eyes. Hospital lights.

Morgan Delashmitt Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Jacob Cash

Bacon

Octopi. Weird, jelly-like creatures.

The one thing about octopI that not many people know is that they are amazingly… evil.

They also like bacon. Never eat bacon around an octopus.

I was by the Madagascar Harbor. (Yes, Madagascar has a harbor. Don’t ask how it got there…) I had just bought a nice big bag of pre-cooked ostrich bacon. It’s cheap there, since it was produced in Madagascar. Anyway, I was sitting on the dock, dangling my feet in the water and crunching on my ostrich bacon when a bit fell into the water. I thought nothing of it, it’s just more food for the fish.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong fish who found it. I heard a few burbles that sounded like they were saying ostrich. Still, it might’ve been a boat motor or rocks shifting under the dock. Something sucked onto my leg.

“Um…. Hi?” I said questioningly.

“Ostrich…” It burbled.

I saw the weird butt/braincase thingy… What is that thing, anyway? Well, I saw the butt/braincase/belly of the octopus who had schlurped onto my leg and then I made eye contact with it. They have GOAT EYES. It’s SO WEIRD!

“Give me the bacon and nobody gets wet!” it slobbered.

“I’m already wet, you idiot. You splashed me!” I yelled at the blobulous creature.

“Oh. Can I still have the bacon?”

“No! I paid for it!”

“Hold on…” the octopus said while holding up a tiny and very inevitably soaked script.

“What’s that?”

“I am El Pulpo and I demand your bacon as tribute to the octopus nation!”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll give my army of tiny bubble-blowing octopirates the go-ahead!”

“Uh…”

“Uh what?”

“It’s just that your army is floating belly up several feet behind you. Are they allergic to air?”

“Maybe.”

“Bleargh! Water! Need water!” A very tiny voice said in the middle of the dead-octopus raft.

“Antonio von Cucaracha? You’re alive!”

“And no bloody thanks to you, mate!

I’m out!” he yelled about as intimidatingly as he could for such a small size.

“Geez.” El Pulpo grumbled.

At which point the octopus proceeded to schlurp farther up my leg and grab the bacon.

“Hey! At least pay for it!” I yelled.

“Antonio! Pay the lady!” El Pulpo demanded.

“In what, mate?!”

“I dunno… Octocoins?”

“I don’t ‘ave any, mate!”

“Oh. How about your loyal service?”

“But-”

“Bye, Antonio!”

“But-”

El Pulpo was gone.

“He took my bacon,” I mumbled.

Antonio and I looked at each other.

“Well…” He threw two of his teeny-tiny tentacles in the air.

“You can start by taking this $5 and buying me some bacon,” “But-”

“Bye, Antonio!”

Antonio came back two hours later as a septopus.

“What happened to your tentacle?”

“I walked into a sushi bar, they cut it off, and it started choking some lady with 97

brown hair,” he mumbled.

“Oh dear…”

“I know, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” “What?”

“Down here!” the voice said.

“Huh?” Antonio and I said.

There was an actual ostrich stuffed in the ostrich bacon bag. Then the bag proceeded to explode and a full-sized ostrich stepped out.

“But-” Antonio said.

“Mom! You finally reached your ostrich final form!”

“Yes, I have, child,” she squawked.

Antonio repeated the word, “But-” 56.5 times when this occurred.

“Well crap. Now I can’t eat ostrich bacon,” I said under my breath.

“What?” she turned her birdy face towards me.

“Uh… Nothing!” I looked away.

“Oh. Ok!”

So it turns out that Antonio has a deathly fear of ostriches. He fell over 5 minutes after I wrote this sentence.

Cassia Ditto Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake 98

The Darkness Within

It was Halloween night and Mike has planned to go out with his friends David and Luke to go walk around the neighborhood and try to scare some kids. Mike puts on his black combat boots paired with his shiny Freddy Krueger look alike hands, covered in the sticky red substance of dyed corn syrup.

The claws perfectly matched with the prosthetics he has put all over his face in order to really give the effect of a monster. Mike walked out of the door to be greeted by David’s amateur Zodiac Killer costume and Luke’s weirdly identical Ted Bundy costume.

“Ready to go losers or is someone going to chicken out?” Mike says staring directly at David.

“Oh come on Mike, you pee yourself one time watching Friday the 13th and you never live it down”. The boys laugh and shove each other racing to get to their bikes as they stumble over each other the air gets really cold. David and Luke continue to wrestle with each other but Mike turns back to the darkened woods and notices it is particularly dark there. Ignoring his instincts to go back inside at the increasingly sharp weather he does not want to be called a chicken for the rest of his life.

“What are you waiting for Mike, are you getting scared?” Luke says as he plants his foot over the opposite side of his bike. Mike refuses to answer and gets on his bike starting down the flattened concrete road. The boys ride in silence for a while, that is until Mike notices a dark black figure walking on the sidewalk beside them. Mike, feeling uneasy, starts to pedal noticeably faster than the other boys. Mike did not know that this figure had been following them for miles since they started. As he slowed down he saw the nastiness of the so called “person”. His body was

pale, yet it appeared all the flesh had been torn off. His hands had no fingernails on them, they were replaced by long slender fingers finishing of the tips with sharp icicle points.

Then it came to the “face” the four flaps that opened up to reveal five rows of abnormally sharp decaying teeth. The trail of green slimy liquid following its every step. There were no eyes to pierce into Mike’s soul, but no matter how fast he biked he could not hear the car horn blaring as it approached him.

“MIKE!” Luke and David yelled in unison. If Luke and David would not have yelled at Mike he would have went face first into a silver Nissan’s window.

“Dude what’s up with you today?

You kept turning around but me and Luke couldn’t see anything” David said, his breathing increasingly heavy. Before Mike could say anything he saw the savage figure again, his legs took of running. David and Luke tried to catch up as Mike ran into the pitch black darkness that was the woods.

“Guys there is this-this thing following us” Mike said as he placed his hands on his knees, his lungs burning.

David and Luke grabbed Mike’s arms and dragged him to his house, scared if he was left out longer he would hallucinate more. The boys knew not to tell his mom about Mike’s “visions” and that they hoped he would be ok by tomorrow. Saying their goodbyes they closed the door and biked off.

Mike was left alone in his room. He knew he was probably just mixing in his night of watching “Stranger Things” in with his night of Halloween. Bummed out that he did not scare any kids he took his costume off and got in the shower. The thick warm steam cascaded down his broad shoulders as the water washed away the fake blood. The calmness distracted Mike of any worries in his mind.

The only thing he did notice was the slender icicle pointed finger touching his 99

shoulder and the green slimy liquid seeping from behind him.

Allana Ducker 8th Grade Heritage Middle School Billie Carlock 100

Never Stretch Swedish Fish Rant

I’m sitting next two idiots who don’t know how to eat candy: Unacceptable I say!

They are stretching there gummy fish as far as they can and I hear the fish scream, “Stop, it hurts!”. It hurts my soul to know that everyday gummies around the world are being tortured by the stretching technique. I believe that all gummy foods should have a calm and swift ending to their prepackaged sorry little lives. What did these sorry fish ever do to you idiots? You constantly insist on torturing your gummy fish before there digestive end. What about there prepackaged families, what do you think they’ll say to this hypocrisy? Why do gummy bears and worms not get exposed to this type of treatment? Why is it only the fish?! These fish must fight back against this horrid treatment! They must rebel against all odds. They must spread to the counter tops, to the stores, out into the public to find their safe Haribo. And to you, idiots, I say to you, you are truly sour! You are sour patch kids!

Caleb Fleming Grade 8 Hixson middle School Carrie Bishop 101

Dreams of the Hopeless

John Gray awoke steadily from the comforts of his slumber, the dull grey light of the morning stinging his eyes. He blinked rapidly, his vision distorted by the sudden amalgam of information that he was processing in his brain. After it focused, he finally realized what time it was.

And he was late.

He sat up slowly, making the painful yet necessary motions that would allow him to stand. Sighing, he rose, trudging his way from the bed into the bathroom. It wasn’t especially pleasant (as it’s formerly white walls and flickering, washed-out lighting kept reminding him) but it would get the job done.

He turned on the shower and proceeded to wash off the grime from the previous day.

Once he was finished, he turned off the water and begrudgingly dried himself. He then went over to his wardrobe and put on most mundane outfit he could find—a white button-down shirt and surprisingly generic khaki pants that looked practically colorless in the morning light.

John soon made his way into the kitchen, a crammed section of the shabby little place he called an affordable apartment.

Regardless of external circumstances, at least he had his smaller comforts like coffee.

“Alex,” John said aloud, as a touchscreen panel built into the wall suddenly lit up, “Fix me some breakfast, will ya? And get me a cup while you’re at it.”

“Yes sir,” a feminine voice responded in kind. “Shall I make it a double?”

“Of course.”

Alex was a curious little thing, a spontaneous purchase made by John back when his company actually gave him a decent wage.

An excellent servant A.I. that made his daily life easier, she was both a helpful compan102

ion and a vexing representation of corporate greed. He supposed he couldn’t complain. The money he earned from Ender Corp payed for whatever miserable life he had left, and wasn’t that at least marginally better than being another druggie or deadbeat on the streets? And yet, even though he had his apartment, wasn’t he one of them—just another replaceable soul that had been screwed over by system far too many times? Did he even have a soul anymore?

With a rounding ding, his coffee had been finished, along with a tiny protein bar that he called “breakfast.” He took a quick bite, sipped quietly on his coffee, and pondered his entire life over and over again.

“Turn on the TV,” John said to Alex, “I want to see what the corporate overlords have to say about us this time.”

And with that, the little glowing propaganda window that sat in the living room lit up, blasting Ender Corp’s airwaves at such a volume that he doubted he had much say in changing it. The newscaster, albeit a bit generic, spoke in a tone that almost captured John’s attention. If it were any other day, John would have watched the whole thing. But today was not one of those days…

“This is David Macalister coming to you live from the Ender News station in the great New York City.” The newscaster said.

“Today we are going to be interviewing a very special guest, Ender Corp’s own CEO and former president of the United States; Jerry Grayson.”

It trailed off as John turned has attention away from the television, checking his watch for the time. After concluding that he was indeed very, very late, he set down his coffee, and ran.

An hour later, John sat in his office, having arrived at the factory 30 minutes prior. Of course, by their standards, he would be considered late. Yet to him late was the best

thing he could ever be.

“Gray,” a man said, standing in the doorway. “We need to talk.”

“About?” A half-distracted John replied, looking out the window into the main assembly line. He watched intently as the factory workers, dull and featureless in appearance, systematically manufactured their own replacements. Androids. They were better potential slaves in every way.

“Listen,” he said more urgently, jerking John’s attention away from the rest of the factory, “I’m going to get straight to the point.

Due to recent… projects that the company is undertaking, we have to get rid of some staff.

I’m sorry Mr. Gray, but your position is no longer available.”

John didn’t move. He seemed like a statue, his own grief and anger fixing him in place.

“Oh and…” the man (or possibly soulless android) said with almost contempt, “Someone left this for you.” He tossed over a package, and walked away. John looked at the strange note that was taped to it, and his eyes widened. Without a second thought, he bolted out the door and to his car.

“I’m telling you,” John said frantically over the phone as he started driving, “I’m not lying. That package—it’s my chance at a new life.”

“John, you know that all of that is a complete waste of time, right?” a rough female voice said over the phone, “I’m not going to help you on another one of your damn fantasies that you dreamed up while on God knows what. Nah. This time… you’re on your own.”

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth!”

She hung up, leaving him frustrated. He threw the phone violently at the passenger seat, his eyes away from the road. If only he had looked back…

And then that was it.

In an instant, the car was rolling, shattered glass floating up and down in the air.

For a second, time stood still, then everything was cut away.

John awoke steadily from the comforts of his slumber, the dull grey light of the morning stinging his eyes. He blinked rapidly, his vision distorted by the sudden amalgam of information that he was processing in his brain. After it focused, he finally realized what time it was.

And he was late.

Ben Henry Grade 8 East Hamilton Middle School Amanda Colvin 103

Untitled

“As I walked into the deepest darkest despair of the forest, I saw my life flash before me. A truck had come off the icy road and hit me. I can no longer live this burdened life, so I must go and live longer in the afterlife.”

I shut the book and quickly turned to stare longingly at the clock. The time was half-past 12 and I had to be home. So, I sprinted out of the door and jotted down a dangerous street.

I hadn’t realized that this was where I walked down everyday after school. The street lights slowly flickering to barely light the path. I just kept my head down as I saw a few alarming people stare at me. Then I heard the slightest noise. This noise wasn’t of car alarms being turned on nor of people laughing as they hosted a party, but of a man, women, and child screaming. I was always into mystery as a child and continued this into my career. I followed the noise as any idiotic person late at night would do and gasped at the surprise of what I saw.

“Sharron pay me the money I asked for then you won’t get your child back.”

“We can’t give you the money, Jack we don’t have it.”

“Then, you’ve made your decision.”

“But please, we haven’t anything to give you if we can’t even support ourselves.”

The one asking for money was from a tall shrimpy man with a very deep voice. It was odd to see such things in this town of only a mere 800 people. As I was going to continue walking in shock of what just happened I still heard the screams and the shouting, so I turned to look at the houses to see if anyone was awake. Nothing, I saw nothing. The screams were only getting louder and surely someone must hear. I had stopped walking once I heard the most horrendous sound. I heard the click of a gun being loaded. Every104

thing seemed so odd, being I had come here many times a day and that every little noise was so elevated to where I can hear every little thing. I didn’t think anything nothing was wrong it was just the quickness of sleep so I ran back to see what was happening. The couple and the child were gone, and the man who was wanting money was too. It hadn’t been but only a few seconds and they were nowhere to be seen. All I could see was a very tall man running away and then I heard the most unusual most terrifying sound imaginable. The sound of a gun being put into action late at night on someone who might’ve been just a plain jane has been shot and killed. I didn’t see this man who had shot the other guy, but I also didn’t see the man who was shot. So, I quickly pulled out my phone and started to call 911.

“Hello, 911 emergency operator on the line, how can I help?”

“Yes, I’m on South May street and…” I was cut off. My phone had died and all I had was a book, that wasn’t very thick, and myself.

I didn’t know what to do. I saw no one and I was around ½ a mile away from my house.

I was stuck with nothing but a few thoughts rushing through my head. Then I realized what I could do.

It was more likely stupid and I would die, but it might be worth it. Not really but at least a once in a lifetime opportunity action that could kill me. Anyway, I had to just do whatever I could to make sure the coast is the clear. I danced and skipped until all I saw was a few bats flying through the wind. I ran as quietly but as quickly as I could. I saw the body laying there in the grass. It looked as cold as an iceberg and as dead as...dead. What just happened? I saw a dead body on the ground, someone shot this body, and a fight over a child. I really can’t piece everything together but I tried enough to where I was able to back away from the body in case the

shooter was coming back. So, I jolted without a second thought and felt something following me. I thought it was nothing so I just let it go and kept running. I was getting tired after I ran halfway to my house so I decided to stop.

Once again, I felt an uncomfortable presence behind me so I looked and nothing‌.nothing‌..nothing. I looked in all directions behind me and once I turned back around I was faced with a menacing look. I couldn’t believe what I did. I guess it might have been the guy holding the child, or the guy getting shot, or even going to see the body but I knew this was it. I just closed my eyes and suddenly I felt a mind-boggling pain in the front of my chest. This time I had opened my eyes to see the person who was chasing me and for the final and ending shot. As soon as the gun had been pressed up against the front of my head and its trigger was pulled, I burst up into my room. But then I knew what had happened was nothing more than a dream and I was met with relief. Later that night, after class, I decided to go to the library and stayed there until half-past 12. I had put everything inside of my bag so I could just walk up and leave. Every night from that day on, I went to the library and left hoping my dream would happen, even if nothing really happened. I just imagined it.

Freedom Herrick Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 105

Untitled

Once upon a time there was a woman named Mia, she had longed for one thing her whole life. Because of that she was very successful, painting pictures of farms and images of llamas. But on her 29th birthday, her 19th birthday being all be herself, she decided to go out in pursuit for what she had always wanted, a llama!

Tuesday, October 7th Mia was walking to work in her studio when she saw a petting zoo flier.

“That’s how I’ll get my llama! I’ll go to the petting zoo!” She exclaimed excitedly.

Running into the road going north, once she got to the other side she realized she couldn’t walk all the way so she hailed a cab. Cabs were everywhere in New York, the city where she had grown up. She climbed into the cab.

“Where ya goin love?” the cab driver asked examining Mia.

“Um, do you know where the the petting zoo is?” Mia replied looking at the driver, he nodded and began to drive on. Within ten minutes Mia had arrived she. She went through the toll free entrance and found a mess. Obviously nobody was completely set up. But on a tent there was a sign that said: Llama sale this way. Then there was a little arrow pointing past all the disaster and onto a nice looking path. She walked towards it then followed the signs. Eventually she made it to a small booth and a large cage holding a single llama.

“Aye, whatcha need.” A man said holding a can of beer although it wasn’t even noon yet.

“I was wondering if you had that llama for sale.” Mia said with her head held high.

“Yeah, but it will cost ya,” he said taking a sip out of his can “ I say about $2,000 dollars since this lil’ boy was bred for the na106

tional llama racing competition.” He pulled his chin up and smirked. What the man didn’t know was that Mia had sold a single painting for much more than that!

“Oh, okay.” Mia said pulling out her wallet to write a check. She wasn’t dumb and usually did not hold more than one to two hundred dollars on her. The man gladly took the money seeming surprised though that Mia had so much since she was so absolutely humble.

“There is also a fee for moving the llama, ya know, shipping and handling!” the man said, this time smirking even wider.

“No thanks, I can take my llama home all by my self.” Mia said knowing she had taken a cab here so she would have to walk the rest of the way home. That wouldn’t take too long but it was dangerous animal around New York. While Mia was thinking the man unlocked the cage and let the llama free, it was love at first sight. The llama imprinted on Mia, mostly because she had freed her from that abusive man.

“Thank you.” Mia said and then she turned on her heel and stalked of with the llama following closely behind her. She walked all the way to the main road where Mia decided she would walk home.

“What am I going to name you? Because right now you are just ‘the llama’” Mia said to the llama. Then she passed a fruit stand. Kiwis were there sitting being fuzzy and yucky looking on the outside but then juicy, and delicious on the inside. “

Kiwi! That is what I will name you!”

Mia exclaimed. Then, soon enough, Mia and Kiwi arrived at their home. Mia’s small condo had two rooms and one and a half bath which was very good for Mia. she used the guest room for painting and sketching. Mia unlocked the door and walked in.

“I know it is not much but it truly is home, you can have the guest bedroom. Mia

stated, her new llama seemed happy enough he walked around. As the time passed Kiwi became more comfortable and he slept in his new bed that night.

The next morning Mia told Kiwi she had to go to work, then she bid him goodbye.

She walked outside in her casual wear, Hailed a cab, and was driven to her studio, and headed inside.

“Hello,” a man’s voice said. Mia flinched not recognizing the voice. As it turned out the man was named Herbert K. Dancy, he was 29 years old and was a big time star on shows like “What Do You Know?” and “Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader?” he knew super random facts about almost anything, including llamas!

After a while Herb and Mia became to become very close and eventually fell in love, although Kiwi didn’t think Herb was good enough and Herb absolutely hated Kiwi. One day Mia had gone to her studio to work on her recent painting that she calls “A Llama At Work”. When Herbert decided he was tired of Kiwi pulling the attention from Mia that he deserved. So he took Kiwi to the petting zoo, the exact one that Mia had picked up Kiwi from. Herb ran in right to the llama booth, this time there was a different, more raggedy llama there but the man recognized Kiwi.

“So was the lil’ boy to much for ya folks? The man said, he chuckled at how uncomfortable Herb looked. “I’ll take this boy off yer hands, man. I thought y’all weren’t coming back.” He said as he pulled Kiwi out of Herb’s clutch. Then long’s story short Mia came home, realized exactly what happened from the security cameras planted all over the place. She dumped Herb and slapped the cud out of that bad man, got Kiwi, and slapped the newly drunk man. She left, went home and lived happily ever after with Kiwi and her art.

Later Mia would find a loving man, have two children and name them Samantha

and Koby.

The End

Anna Jacobs Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 107

Untitled

“I was framed!”

Okay, so let me explain.. I was framed.. Currently I’m on the run from six cop cars and my Corgi pup, Snickers, sounds crazy, but lets just get things straight. So, my name is James. I’m a 6ft 9 male. I’m single and not looking. I’ve got black, straight hair and I am fairly chubby. Regardless of my weight, I take Snickers on a walk every morning and night… no matter what the occasion! She holds me up to the statement too!

So, let’s get into todays walk. It was probably around 9:35 am when I left my apartment downtown. It’s a shack but that’s okay.

Snickers and I walk down the street, take a back road down an ally and turn around to run back home since work starts at 10:00 am.

But this time when I entered the ally, something was different. No, there wasn’t a naked hobo or something, but there was a bunch of trash knocked out of an old trash can. Now, I hear what you’re saying.

“But James! What do you expect to see in an old ally? Expensive carpet and nice chairs?”

Well no, but this time it was creepy.

The trash bins were covered in what I suspect is blood and there was a human sized trash bag laying in the corner of the ally behind some trash. I only know that because I was playing ball with Snickers and the ball bounced into the trash heaps.

Regardless of how I found out, I raced home, took a shower, convinced myself that it was just an animal or something and went to my garbage work. I came home. It was about 11:00 pm when I was finally ready to give Snickers her walk when I thought about the “body” again. I blew it off, grabbed a flashlight, and Snickers and headed out the door in my jacket. It didn’t take long before 108

I turned my light on, afraid of what could be lurking in the dark of the night, and I really wish I hadn’t because when I went to turn my light on, the ball I was holding fell out of my grasp and rolled into the ally. Obviously, my dog chased after it, since Snickers is a sucker for playing ball, but before you knew it I was racing to get Snickers, light still on, and poking that weird bag with a stick I found beside a bottle of old Pepsi and a box full of socks, used at that. Not long after I poked the bag, I was opening it slowly. Regretfully, I grabbed it with my hands and ripped it open.

I stared down at what looked like a small woman..Maybe thirteen or fourteen? I winced when I looked at her face. This was disgusting. I was staring at the bag when I heard footsteps behind me. My mind processed this picture, “So... Someone walked into an ally, sees a tall male, wearing a jacket, holding a body...” Oh god... I’m going to jail.

I dropped the bag and ran behind the trash can nearest to me. Big mistake James..

Snickers started to bark at me when I didn’t give the ball back. I heard the footsteps getting louder and growing closer very quickly.

So I did something very dumb… I grabbed a rock, stood really tall and yelled, “Stand back!

I’m not afraid to hurt you!”

My eyes darted around until they landed on a police badge. Oh no, I’m doomed.

“Stand back sir, put your hands behind your back or I’ll shoot!”

I froze and basically peed myself. Obviously the smart thing to do is to surrender and put your hands above your head. So I decided to throw the rock at the cop and dash past him. While I ran, I heard him call for more cars and I started to panic. My dog was chasing after me and barking so I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late.

“GET ON THE GROUND, YOU’RE BEING SURROUNDED.”

Those words almost made my ears

ring, I turned around and see about six cop cars two feet behind me and my little Snickers with it. And this is where I am now, with hope I’ll get out of this mess. If not, tell my pup to not open random trash bags. Even though she can’t.

Jessica Johnson Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 109

Untitled

The plastic cat head is wearing an elaborate puffy crown covered with bling. The cat’s mouth opens to reveal a touchscreen, but there’s also a jack to plug in an elaborate mask that gives you a visor, along with nose plugs and earbuds for added sensory input. Holding this self-contained game system in my palms, I hate it and want to throw it out the open window of our beautiful faux-Colonial rowhouse to be buried under the Autumn mulch. But I also feel a surge of hope: that maybe this really will make a difference. The cat is winking up at me.

Shary crouches in her favorite chair, the straight-backed Regency made of redstained wood and lumpy blue upholstery.

She’s wearing jeans and a stained sweatshirt, one leg tucked under the other, and there’s a kinetic promise in her taut leg that I know to be a lie. She looks as if she’s about to spring out of that chair and ask me about the device in my hands, talking a mile a minute the way she used to. But she doesn’t even notice my brand new purchase, and it’s a crapshoot whether she even knows who I am today.

I poke the royal cat’s tongue, and it gives a yawp through its tiny speakers, then the screen lights up and asks for our wifI password. I give the cat what it wants, then it starts updating and loading various firmware things. A picture of a fairytale castle appears with the game’s title in a stylized wordmark above it: THE DIVINE RIGHT OF CATS. And then begins the hard work of customizing absolutely everything, which I want to do myself before I hand the thing off to Shary.

The whole time I’m inputting Shary’s name and other info, I feel like a backstabbing person. Giving this childish game to my life partner, it’s like I’m declaring that she’s lost the right to be considered an adult. No matter 110

that all the hip teens and twentysomethings are playing Divine Right of Cats right now. Or that everybody agrees this game is the absolute best thing for helping dementia patients hold onto some level of cognition, and that it’s especially good for people suffering from leptospirosis X, in particular. I’m doing this for Shary’s good, because I believe she’s still in there somewhere.

I make Shary’s character as close to Shary as I can possibly make a cat wizard, who is the main advisor to the throne of the cat kingdom. (I decide that if Shary was a cat, she’d be an Abyssinian, because she’s got that sandy-brown-haired sleekness, pointy face and wiry energy.) Shary’s monarch is a queen, not a king—a proud Tortoiseshell cat named Arabella IV. I get some input into the realm’s makeup, including what the nobles on the Queen’s Council are like, but some stuff is decided at random — like, Arabella’s realm of Greater Felinia has a huge stretch of vineyards and some copper mines, neither of which I would have come up with.

Every detail I enter into the game, I pack with relationship shout-outs and little details that only Shary would recognize, so the whole thing turns into a kind of bizarre love letter. For example, the tavern near the royal stables is the Puzzler’s Retreat, which was the gray-walled dyke bar where Shary and I used to go dancing when we were both in grad school. The royal guards are Grace’s Army of Stompification. And so on.

“Shary?” I say. She doesn’t respond.

Before it mutated and started eating people’s brainstems, before it became antibiotic-resistant, the disease afflicting Shary used to be known as Rat Catcher’s Yellows.

It mostly affected animals, and in rare cases humans. It’s a close cousin of syphilis and Lyme, one that few people had even heard of ten years ago. In some people, it causes liver failure and agonizing joint pain, but Shary is

one of the “lucky” ones who only have severe neurological problems, plus intermittent fatigue. She’s only thirty-five years old.

“Shary?” I hold the cat head out to her, because it’s ready to start accepting her commands now that all the tricky setup is over with. Queen Annabelle has a lot of issues that require her Royal Wizard’s input.

Already some of the other noble cats are plotting against the throne—especially those treacherous tuxedo cats!—and the vintners are threatening to go on strike. I put the cat head right in front of Shary’s face and she shrugs.

Then she looks up, all at once lucid.

“Grace? What the freak is this crap? This looks like it’s for a five year old.”

“It’s a game,” I stammer. “It’s supposed to be good for people with your. . . it’s fun.

You’ll like it.”

“What the freaking freak?”

She throws it across the room. Lucidity is often accompanied by hostility, which is the kind of tradeoff you start to accept at a certain point. I go and fetch it without a word.

Luckily, the cat head was designed to be very durable.

“I thought we could do it together.” I play the guilt card back at her. “I thought maybe this could be something we could actually share. You and me. Together. You know? Like a real couple.”

“Okay, fine.” She takes the cat head from me, and squints at Queen Arabella’s questions about the trade crisis with the neighboring duchy of meerkats. Queen Arabella asks what she should do, and Shary painstakingly types out “why don’t you go fuck yourself.” But she erases it without hitting send, and then instead picks “send an emissary” from among the options already on the screen. Soon, Shary is sending trade representatives and labor negotiators to the four corners of Greater Felinia, and beyond.

Jayden Kalmbach Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 111

April Showers Bring May Flowers

If you’ve ever been around kids or even seen commercials about them, you know they ask a million questions a minute.

One of those questions is almost always “why is the sky blue?”. However, you never hear kids ask how rain came to be and why it’s important. My job is to tell you just that.

A long, long time ago there was a barren volcano, covered in dark ash, on an island.

The volcano was alone and was as hateful as could be. The volcano cherished his alone time until one special day in mid- April. A strange structure made of wood rode the waves onto the beach. Then, like a scene from a movie, two people got off and started exploring the island.

The volcano hated the people at first.

But, after a few months the volcano started to enjoy seeing the people every day. He loved watching them explore and uncover new things on the island. As the volcano watched the people he became happier and happier. Soon, instead of being a barren and ashy mess the volcano was covered in the greenest grass and the brightest flowers. He continued to grow closer and closer with the new people and even gave them nicknames. The volcano called the girl April, because her eyes were the color of the bright grass that now covered him. The man he called Coal because his hair was as dark as the burning ashes that the volcano used to consist of.

One dark, gloomy day it took April and Coal a little longer than usual to come to the volcano. After hours of waiting only April showed up, in tears. Coal had fallen into a crater last night while gathering firewood. He had broken his neck and died instantly. April was so shaken up she cried 112

for months. The volcanos tried and tried for months to get her to smile but it never worked. He didn’t want April to be as sad as he once was.

Eventually, he came up with an idea.

He would find April an animal friend to distract her. Every day he found a new creature that April rejected. One day, however, he had a stroke of luck. The volcano had gotten the fluffiest sheep April had ever seen. When she saw it, it was the first time she had smiled in months. April named him Cloud because he looked like the white wisps in the sky. They became inseparable and whenever Cloud would bleed April laughed so hard she cried.

The sheep kept April happy for years and years to come, until she grew very old.

When April she her last tear of joy, she shut her eyes and peacefully passed away.

The volcano was so touched by how she was able to turn him from a spiteful, barren volcano into a beautiful and colorful one that he decided to reward her. He took Cloud and spread his fluffiness throughout the sky, offering shade from the wintering heat. He took the bleep from Cloud’s fluffy snout and made it into a mighty thunder across the skies. The volcano also gathered all of April’s joyful tears and filled all the clouds up with them. So, whenever it rains it’s a reminder for the volcano, and all of us to enjoy the little things in life and tears don’t always follow despair.

Avery Levitt Grade 8 Silverdale Baptist Academy Scheloe Woodson

Untitled Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leafs a flower; But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

The first time I heard the poem, “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost, I was six. My mom decided to read it to me before bed instead of “The Princess and the Frog”. I don’t know why she chose to read that particular poem, or why she seemed so invested in the words, but I didn’t care. It was just as pretty a story coming from my mother’s lips as “The Princess and the Frog.”

The second time I had read it was a month after my thirteenth birthday. It was the only thing my mom had left my father and I before she ran off with a bartender from Connecticut. I thought I knew what it meant then.

I thought she was telling us that no matter what we did, she was a beautiful gold and she couldn’t stay in a dull dreary life like her own.

The third time was on my sixteenth birthday. My friends had left to go to a party and I was sitting on my bedroom floor nursing the new bruise on my cheek, a birthday present from my father. I was surrounded by open boxes filled to the brim with old photos.

My parents looked happy in each one; until I got to the newer boxes. My father would scowl and my mother plastered on an empty smile. On top of a photo of my mother and I was the note she left us. Looking around, I

thought maybe what she meant by the note was her happiness. When she was with my dad she was like golden sunrises and bright red flowers, but I came along and her sunrises turned to stormy afternoon skies and her flowers wilted to a dull maroon. I took the note, closed all the boxes, and didn’t open them ever again.

The fourth time, but certainly not the last, was the day I graduated from my high school. I was surrounded by my best friends in the back of a silver pickup truck. We were driving down a highway in the hopes of leaving our small town. The sun was setting and the sky turned to brilliant shades of golds and oranges and reds and pinks. The person closest to me leaned his head back to the sky and screamed that poem to the world. I didn’t know where he heard it or what he thought it meant but as my friends laughed around me and tried to convince the others of its true meaning I knew it didn’t really matter.

It doesn’t matter what the meaning is because there could be thousands. That’s how all poetry is. We associate the poems meaning with the events that take place around us and try to use it for direction. My mother did this the day she left and I had been doing it all my life. It had been an anchor to the past, making it harder to keep moving forward, so I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out that dreadful note and let it fly away from our car.

The fifth time was at my mother’s funeral, a good ten years later. She had been caught in a drunk driving accident and never made it to the hospital. While the atmosphere around the dark casket was dreary, the skies were anything but. I hadn’t made it two steps from the grave after the service before a man stopped me, claiming to be the bartender my mother had fallen for. He told me about the first time he met my mother, how broken she was over her wretched marriage and to com113

fort her, he read her his favorite Robert Frost poem. I could see from the small, sad smile he held upon his face that she truly meant the world to him. He told me how much my mother loved me and how leaving me destroyed her. My mother’s lover handed me an envelope full of postcards she never had the nerve to send me, which included the poem.

That wonderful, and yet so incredibly awful, poem. I stayed at the grave site longer than I intended to and watched as the golden sun disappeared behind the mountain tops, my grief giving way to gratitude for the man that replaced my last memory of my mother with a new and beautiful one.

Matthew Mantovani Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake 114

Untitled

The warmth brought from the tears that raced down my face comforted me in some strange way. The saltwater trickling on the white linoleum tiles I sat on also seemed to have a calming sense about them. Why I found this type of calamity in crying is a complete and utter mystery to me.

I stood up, using the cool countertop to push up on. I grabbed my phone, using my sleeves to wipe away some of the tears still left in my cheeks. Texts flooded my phone, all saying some variation of “sorry.” I rolled my eyes… no one meant it.

I grabbed toilet paper from the holder behind me. I wiped the soft material over my cheeks, taking away the watery mascara marks all the tears had left behind.

My phone continued to buzz, the same type of message appearing on the screen each time. Not being able to take the anger anymore, I picked up my phone, unlocking it with my thumb print. The first messages I looked at were from the one I cared the most about. It’s so strange that you can care so much for a person, yet you are a speck of dust in their eyes.

“You misunderstood.”

“This was all a big coincidence.”

“It’s not my fault.”

I knew each text was a lie. I didn’t misunderstand. It’s not like there was anything to misunderstand. It’s not a coincidence. This is too major and recurring to be a coincidence once again. It’s not her fault. She just doesn’t know how to stick up for anyone besides herself.

My heart sank to my toes as I began to read the next texts.

“Stop overreacting.”

“You’re reading too much into this.”

“We did nothing that was meant to

hurt you.”

I hate when people do this. They turn their mistakes into yours. They can’t own up and apologize, they just have to keep insisting they’ve done nothing because you did. They can’t face the fact that they are the lesser person, so they try to make you the lesser person.

“Hope you’re feeling better!”

“We missed you!”

Tears began to cloud my eyes as I read the lies from the innocent one. She knew nothing of what the others had done. She believed the lies they told. There is no way to expect someone to feel better when you are apart of the reason they’re upset. Besides, how can they miss me if they were pleased by the fact I wasn’t there? The logic isn’t there and it never will be.

I turned my phone off, sliding its smooth surface to the other side of the counter. It made a loud clink as it hit the lip of the sink and bounced backward. I didn’t bother to check and see if I had cracked it; a cracked screen was the least bothersome thing on my mind. Instead, I put my elbows on the countertop and rested my head in my hands. I felt the new tears I had not noticed before fall from my face, down my forearms, and onto the counter. I should have expected this, it’s not like this is the first time it has ever happened.

The worst part is, it’s not like I ever did anything to them to deserve this. I’ve been there for them, I’ve kept their secrets, I’ve given them advice. Ironically enough, I was their shoulder to cry on. I was nothing but a friend to each of them, but it’s like they can’t return the favor.

Lifting my head from my hands, I wiped the new tear trails from my cheeks. I grabbed my mascara tube from its place on my counter and reapplied what I had cried away. I just had to accept the fact this wasn’t 115

the last time this would happen. I had to accept the fact that I had no choice but to go to school Monday and act like nothing had happened. They’d tell everyone this ordeal was my fault if I didn’t. This was the reality my life had come to.

Emma Parson Grade 8 Hixson Middle School Carrie Bishop 116

If You Didn’t Know…

It was September and Cindy Roberson was walking to school on a windy Wednesday, like usual. She attended London’s School of Excellence in Appleworth, London.

She was in the 10th grade, and was in the top two most popular girls in the school. She was actually tied for most popular with her worst enemy Jessica Steward. They were tied because they were practically twins. They both had short, wavy hair, baby blue eyes accompanied by long, dark eyelashes, and stood at 5’8”. They hated each other, but wouldn’t dare publicly express their feelings.

Jessica hated Cindy because she was secretly cruel to everyone and was very narcissistic, but no one saw that side of Cindy but her. Everyone thought she was an angel. They believed that she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Cindy hated Jessica because she effortlessly keeps up a mien that would make anyone envious.

As she is walking on the damp sidewalk, from yesterday’s storm, she sees Jessica.

She is standing by the large oak tree by Mrs. Mary’s little cottage. Cindy can’t help but roll her eyes and call out to her.

“Jessica! Hey, I didn’t see you there.

How are you?” Cindy says like they are friends that just reconnected.

“Uh, hello Cindy,” she pauses, “ I’m fine. How have you been?”

“I’ve been wonderful. How has that zit on you neck been healing?” she asked pointing to her own neck with a faint snicker.

Shocked Jessica says, “What zi-,” she stops as she notices a group of people teeming around her, trying to get a glimpse of the non existent breakout. Knowing that she can say a snarky comment back she just simply replies, “It has been healing very well. It is actually gone now, but I do appreciate your concern.”

Cindy feeling accomplished, for now,

replies, “Well that’s good. I’ll see you in 3rd!”

As she walks away, Cindy puts on an innocent face and continues her walk to school.

Minutes later, she arrives at the front gate of her school. The large iron gates open at the sight of her ID around her neck. The large private school’s campus is breathtaking, There are bird baths in different corners of the gate. There’s even a large marble fountain in the middle of the 4-way, hand paved, stone, walkway. In addition, the entire school is surrounded by the greenest, freshly cut grass.

Later that school day, Cindy is walking out of her 2nd block class, Ms.Jackson’s Algebra 2. The sound of the hallway is just like any other. By the lockers, there is a group of girls gossiping over who will date Jamie Cox, the most popular boy in school, next.

In the doorway of every classroom is a group of students talking to each other about lunch arrangements. Every now and then, you even get the occasional fight. Then Cindy spots Jessica conversing with her group of followers.

“Hey Jessica!” Cindy shouts.

“Hello Cindy, what do you need?” she asks with an annoyed tone but a bright smile.

“I need you to come here,” Cindy says with a huge grin on her face.

So, Jessica walked up to Cindy cautionaly. However, Cindy was so agile she didn’t even notice that Cindy had taken her homework journal and dropped in the fish tank beside them.

“I am so sorry. I take full responsibility. I will make it up to you,” Cindy said apologetically.

“I will get my revenge!” Jessica whispered to Cindy. “ It’s okay. I can redo everything tonight,” she said louder so she can be heard by the teachers standing by.

While in Mr. Richardson’s World History class, Cindy glances over at Jessica. She is sitting two seats away from her. There is one empty desk between them because Mr. Rich117

ardson was using it to get the main point of the standard across to the students.

“That empty seat represents a border.

That border represents the body of water between Jessica, China, and Cindy, Japan. Now everyone knows how Jessica and Cindy are similar, right? Now think about how Japan and China are similar. They seem like the same civilization. However, they are different in many ways, but they do have similar characteristics. In fact, it was Japan that was inspired by China, and that’s why they seem similar today. So, that can show that two civilizations can be nearly the same even when they are not direct neighbors,” Mr. Richardson taught to the class.

Just then, Jessica gives Cindy a cold glare, to show tell her that they are polar opposites, filled with hatred. If Cindy didn’t know any better she would have been fooled by the “genuine” smile on her face. However, she knew that glare. She saw the hatred in her eyes. That glare made Cindy feel like she just fell in a ditch.

By the time that Cindy recovered, she could tell that her surrounding environment had changed. It went from being Mr. Richardson’s ice cold class filled with hard working students to it becoming very hot all of a sudden with everyone talking.

The air felt warm and sticky. Almost like the air after it rained. Only worse. The smell was different too. Instead of it smelling like all the cologne and perfume every student was wearing mixed in one large gas cloud, it smelled like wet muddy grass.

Just in a matter of a second, Cindy felt as if her ear drums had been ruptured. The pain was unpleasant. It felt like she had on a stethoscope and a gun had fired beside her.

In reality, every glass object had shattered at once. That empty seat, from today’s class demonstration, now had a warm breeze radiating from it.

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As Cindy had the urge to scream, a figure appeared. It looked just like Jessica. The only difference was that every feature was outlined with bits of sharp glass fragments. Even its eyes had a bright orange molten glass look.

The glass poked out as if it was going to be used as a weapon. Each piece of jagged glass aimed precisely at Cindy. The smell of it was unbearable to her. It smelled like everything disgusting in the world trying to be masked by her favorite perfume.

The sound of its voice? Unknown. Cindy only got got some type of communication by the godawful glares it gave her. It moved very slowly. Extremely slow. So slow that a sloth would beat the glass creature any day in a race.

A few seconds after the initial cause of terror, Cindy laughed. She knew that she could outrun the “Glass Shadow”, and it would never catch her. She knew, because of her biology class, that a sloth’s top speed was 0.004828032 kilometers per hour (0.003 miles per hour), which was far too slow to catch her.

What’s going on? Why can’t I move, Cindy thought. A wave of fear overcame her. She began to sweat bullets at realizing what the creature was capable of. All she could remember was trying to run, and now she’s found herself to be paralysed.

While she was panicking, she started to feel thousands of little sharp pains all over her body. It felt like she was being cut by very sharp razors, acquiring many paper cuts, and getting 2nd degree burns at the same time. The pain was so bad that she yelled out screaming, while a stream of tears flooded her eyes.

Cindy looks over at the blurry Glass Shadow. It is just looking at her. It seems almost happy to see Cindy in pain. It even let out a soft chuckle, like Cindy did when she embarrassed Jessica.

What did I ever do to deserve this?

Make it stop! I am sorry. So very sorry. What

can I do to make it stop, Cindy thought to herself in great pain.

She then glances over to look at the Glass Shadow with her pleading eyes. It was smiling. It’s clear row of teeth showing amusement from her begging. When it stopped smiling, trying to not go overboard expressing its joy at the moment, it let Cindy alone and pointed to Jessica.

So it was Jessica that sent that “glass demon” to haunt me. I knew she hated me, but this was an all time low for her, Cindy thought.

Ring! Ring! RING!!! The fourth block starting bell had just rung. She sat still and looked at her surroundings again. Everything was fine. Nothing was broken. Every piece of glass still intact.

“Are you alright,” Mr. Richardson asked with great concern.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Cindy said as she put on her brightest smile filled with reassurance.

That face was partially for him and part for herself. It reminded her that the Glass Shadow was most likely just in her mind.

Most likely. However, she was almost absolutely sure Jessica had something to do with it.

For the remainder of the school day, everything was just normal. Cindy was a jerk to Jessica, but was always on alert for the Glass Shadow. She was especially vigilant on the next day.

The next day, Cindy is walking down her familiar route to school. The chilly Thursday reminded her of that hot, traumatic, event that still paints a clear vivid picture in her mind from yesterday. That feeling of dread became her new friend as she walked to school.

When the gates opened, Cindy told herself everything was going to be different.

She told herself that she was not going to

provoke Jessica in fear that the Glass Shadow will torture her again. Instead of Cindy being mean to Jessica, it was Jessica that did the hurting.

“Cindy! Did you have fun in Mr. Richardson’s class yesterday?” Jessica asked all innocent like.

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t have a great time in Mr. Richardson’s class,” Cindy confessed.

“Oh is that so? I couldn’t tell over how dumbfounded you became after he explained the main point of the lesson yesterday. It was like right after that, your whole body froze and you were in some state of shock,” Jessica says gladly.

Is she actually happy about this? See this is exactly what I thought. That girl sent the Glass Shadow. How did I not know immediately when it happened yesterday? It looks like her and it’s life goal to make me unhappy, she thought.

Later the 3rd block starting bell rang.

CIndy walks in and see’s that the whiteboard says, “Pop Quiz! Have fun! :)”. Unprepared for the pop quiz, she sat down in her ice cold, uncomfortable blue seat designed for elementary students.

She looks around to see if Jessica is watching her. All she saw were students marking out answers, working hard to get that desired A+. The teacher had his head held low, discreetly on his phone, pretending to grade 2nd block’s quizzes.

That’s when she felt it. She felt that all too familiar feeling of dread. The air was hot, and she started to hyperventilate.

She slowly took of her school uniform jacket with “LSE” sewed on the top left pocket, and put it over her chair, for it was very hot.

I am taking a history quiz. Does Jessica hate me that much, she thought. That’s when this horrid, wretched voice popped up 119

in her head.

Yes! Yes she does. She hates you along with anyone else that can see past that fake smile you wear effortlessly everyday, the voice said. The voice had sounded as if someone was being suffocated by glass. It was the Glass Shadow’s voice!

Now all Cindy felt was pain. Pain! The pain was something that she has never felt before, and of course it was because of the Glass Shadow. She was in indescribable, excruciating, agony.

She noticed that the Glass Shadow was walking, well floating, up to her. It took her by the hand, and they started to merge into one.

Cindy thought, I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse. That was because the Glass Shadow was also making Cindy feel as if her body was being sent through an industrial sized meat grinder.

After a few minutes of this unbearable pain, Cindy started to cry out.

“I am sorry Jessica. Please make it stop. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry for every cruel thing I have ever done to you, You didn’t deserve it! Your kind, smart, and just a wonderful person in general. Please, I am begging you, don’t let me die now in the agony that I so truly deserve!” Cindy cried out with tears rolling down her face.

“Alright,” Jessica said and the pain stopped, but the Glass Shadow still lingered around.

As the Glass Shadow started to disappear, Cindy stopped it.

“I have a question,” she said finally feeling relief from all that pain.

“Go ahead ask, but beware of what you speak,” the Glass Shadow warned.

“I have always known there always was a dark side to Jessica. I knew that she had sent you. So that must mean that you are a representation of the part of herself that can 120

be evil, right?” Cindy asked.

Jessica and the Glass Shadow exchanged amused glances.

“If you didn’t know, I was a representation of how you treat people, so that basically means that I am you,” the Glass Shadow said with a smile as it faded away.

Ja’Toria Powell Grade 8 East Ridge Middle School Caroline Dicks

Sarah

She smiles, her blond hair glowing in the LA sunlight. Her hair whips around her as she drives along the cliff side road. The engine of the red mustang convertible hums along to the sound of Prince coming from the old speakers. She bounces along to the music, one hand on the wheel with the other waving in the air. She laughs and shakes her head to keep the hair from her face. Then she disappeared. Not just her, but everything, everything goes black with a sudden jolt.

Then it starts again. She smiles. Wind blows past you. Music blares. The engine sings. She laughs. Black. Again. Smile. Wind. Car. Music. Laughter. Black. Again. Again. Again…

“Alex? Alex can you hear me?” The far off voice is calm, steady. You shake your head and slowly open your eyes. You look down at down at your white clothes. You’re sitting at a desk in a small room. You lift your gazed to across the small table to the women sitting opposite of you. She smiles softly. “Hello Alex. I’m Dr. Brenner.”

Another, more familiar voice begins to speak. It’s Dr. Reynolds, your psychiatrist, who is standing next to Dr. Brenner.

“She’s here to learn from you, Alex.

She’s doing research on trauma patients like you. She’ll have some questions for you, and all you need to do is answer them as fully as you can. Can you do that for me Alex?”

You look down.

“Whenever you’re ready, doctor,” Dr. Reynolds says to Dr. Brenner. She nods and looks at you.

“Alex, can you tell me about the accident?”

It starts again. You’re back on the beachside cliff in the old red convertible with her, with Sarah. She’s smiling, dancing, happy--so, so happy. You yell and scream at her

to stop the car, to pull over, to do anything, but she doesn’t. You’re forced to watch her and relive the worst moment of your life for what seems like the millionth time. You turn your head in time to see the 18 wheeler barreling around the corner ahead of you. You jerk your eyes shut and duck your head. You jolt and open your eyes. Dr. Brenner is staring at you with an odd look on her face; less concern and more confusion.

“What were you just thinking about?”

Dr. Brenner asks.

“I... I was with her again, with Sarah. On the cliff. We were driving and then, then…” you let your voice trail off.

“Were you back at the accident?” Dr. Brenner prompts.

You nod.

“Do you think about it often?”

You don’t like her question.

“I don’t think about it. I’m there, I’m watching. I try to yell at her to stop, but she can’t hear me. She never hears me… And then I see the truck coming and look at Sarah and, and she’s so happy... and I don’t want to yell anymore because it’s too late and I don’t want to scare her if she hears me. I want her to be smiling for the last few seconds, for her to never know what’s about to happen to us, to her…” You words have turned raspy with the lump in your throat. You drag a hand across your face to wipe off the tears rolling down your cheek. “I just want her to be happy,” Your voice cracks on the last word.

Dr. Brenner looks down at her clipboard.

“Sarah Baldwin. She was 23 at date of death, correct?”

You tense at her words but nod.

“You two were engaged for two weeks.

According to your loved ones, you were both madly in love. That must have been hard to lose her. Can you tell me about immediately after the accident?”

121

You furrow your brow, unsure why these questions were useful.

“I remember waking up to the sound of sirens. I was being lifted up, on a stretcher.

Everything was fuzzy. I could feel something hot and wet of the side of my head but when I tried to move, everything hurt. The kind of hurt that’s so intense and painful it doesn’t seem possible. I gave up trying to move and let my head fall to the side. I was about to close my eyes but then, then I saw it. A large black body bag being zipped up by police officers. I don’t know how but-but somehow, somehow I knew it was her. It was Sarah,” A sob escapes your throat as you say her name.

“I didn’t want it to be her, I wanted her to be safe and happy and smiling and anywhere, anywhere but in there. I pleaded and prayed to switch places with her but I knew she was gone, I... I could feel it. And that pain I felt before felt negligible to the agony that swallowed my heart. I screamed and cried and thrashed till they stuck a needle in my arm and I lost consciousness…”

“And how do you feel now?” Dr. Brenner’s words are calm.

“It’s still there, that pain, agony. And whenever I close my eyes I’m back in the car, with Sarah. She laughs and dances and smiles, but every time it hurts more because I know I’ll have to watch her die over and over and…”

You let your head fall and the tears flow. Dr. Brenner scratches something down on her clipboard, then puts a hand on your arm.

“Thank you, Alex. You’ve been very helpful. I would like to continue to visit you to continue our conversation. I know this is very hard for you but all I’m trying to do is to find a way to help you. Is that all right?

You nod.

“Wonderful, Alex. I’ll see you next week.” With that she stands and walks out.

You put your head in your arms and close 122

your eyes. With that you’re back in the car with Sarah, and you watch her smile, and dance, and laugh, like always.

Adelle Pritchard Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake

Ancient Greek vs. Roman Civilization

We hear, see, touch, learn, taste and speak things every day that have been passed down and learned from both the ancient Greek and Roman civilizations. They contributed to our world today in more ways than we can imagine. You see food and clothes and the way we fight our wars, and don’t even stop to think about the fact that so much of that came from these ancient cultures. The Greeks and Romans had very different cultures, but they had one very large thing in common: their contribution to our societies and civilization today.

The ancient Greeks played a big role in the way we act, eat, celebrate, and even have fun. The Greeks government was changed many times throughout history, but it was mostly a democracy which means it was ruled by the people. Athens was the most famous for having the first “working” democracy, and for being ruled by a leader, voted in by the adult men. When Greece was being threatened by war, the ruler couldn’t decide for himself if they went to war, he had to have acceptance from the rest of the government officials. Ancient Greece is also recognized for being the home of many well-known philosophers, mathematicians, historians, masters in medicine, and scientists. From Thales, who was considered one of the first Western philosophers, to stoic and skeptics, ancient Greek philosophy opened the doors to a new special type of thinking that paved the road for many new roots in the western world. Another part of the ancient Greek culture that still occurs today is the Olympics. The games held every four years was then used as a way to please the gods. The best athletes in Greece would compete to earn the Gods affections.

The Greeks were very artistic and graceful

people, putting much of their time and effort into the arts and music side of civilization.

The wealthier class spent large amounts of money into paintings and decor and making their homes look pleasing. Out of all of these things, the Greeks put pleasing their gods above all. They had hundreds of different gods and goddesses for all different things, for example, Athena was the goddess of wisdom, craft, and war, and was married to Zeus, the god of the sky and thunder. These gods and goddesses were actually just made up stories created by philosophers, but the Greeks believed in them, and surrounded their culture on pleasing these “gods”.

The Romans were first ruled by a monarchy (ruled by one) then an oligarchy (ruled by a few) then a democracy (ruled by the people). Ancient Roman city-states joined together to form leagues that came into conflict, weakening Greece and leading to it’s conquest by the Macedonian kings and later, the Roman empire. The Romans were very much centered on ruling, and control, and they fought whatever got in their way of control.

Just like Greece, ancient Rome was also the home of many different famous philosophers, mathematicians, historians, masters of medicine, and scientists. Many Roman philosophers were not very “original”. The Romans hadn’t even begun studying philosophy until they started conquering Greece. They got the chance to talk to many different philosophers and started doing a lot of the same things.

The ancient Roman philosophy was basically translating Greek philosophy into Latin. The Roman mathematician Ptolemy was known for his theory that the earth was the center of the universe, called the Ptolemaic system.

This theory was proven wrong almost 2000 years later with the new theory that the sun was the center, rather than the earth, which was discovered by Corpernicus. The Roman medicine was also greatly influenced by the 123

Greeks, and the Romans learned a lot from the Greek medicine. Literature, History, and Art were a very large part of ancient Rome. Poetry was written often during the rule of Augustus, as a means of showing how peaceful the time was compared to when they were under selfish rule.

The “Pax Romana” was and artificial peace that maintained the government until Jesus gave his life to give us true peace. During this time of “peace”, the Romans focused a lot of their time on art, but also on sports. These sports were not much like the Greek Olympics, these sports were bloody and brutal and were against Christians and gladiators, or large animals. These games were amusement for the roman people and were held in roman colosseums. The Romans also had their own gods and goddesses, but Rome was also a Christian and Judaic culture, some believing in our one true God, and some believing that Jesus was just a prophet. Much of the Roman culture and civilization was influenced greatly by the Greeks, and much is to be learned from these cultures.

There are great differences in the Ancient Greek and Roman cultures, starting with how different their society acted. The Greeks were more peaceful, while the Romans wanted to rule the entire western world.

The Greeks had a lot of original art and architecture, while the Romans used a lot of ideas they got from the Greeks. These cultures have influenced many different civilization and societies, and they have taught our society in America how to govern using a democracy, and given us many different ways of writing literature, like poetry, folk tales, and myths.

The Romans have given us a new way of warcraft, and their warfare techniques are still used by many different counties today. The ancient Greek and Roman civilizations were the foundation of our world today, and they have taught us how to be a better nation.

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Brighton Smith Grade 8 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George

Daylight

The sun is shining at twelve pm, yet no one is outside in the society of Martland.

In the year 2093 the sixth mass extinction had occurred. The government tried to turn pollution into technology to prevent it from happening, but that caused the Sun’s gravitational pull to merge with the Earth’s gravitational pull.

It is now the year 3973. Animals are hiding and plants are arduous to be seen.

“Mom I’m bored! Do you have anything I can do?”

“No, but I have these books you can read. They’re about my favorite flower, a Camellia.”

“What’s a flower?”

“It’s a beautiful brightly colored plant that smells wonderful. Now, here take these cookies and this book.”

I take the cookies and open the first page of the book. As my mother said before there was a soft pink flower that I happened to share a name with.

“Can dad bring home a Camellia?”

I’ve never seen an actual flower. Especially, not one that I shared a name with.

“I don’t know...maybe. Chemicals that make flowers are really difficult to find. So, why don’t you just ask?”

Should I ask? No, I don’t want to put any stress on my dad for a flower. What can I do? I know, I can just go look for my flower, and surprise my family with a Camellia.

They’ll be so proud of me. Ok, now let me see where they’re located. ‘Martland, 4621 Avenoak’ Wait that’s just around the corner from…

“Sissy! What are you doing?”

“Hey, Cooper.” Copper is my little brother who likes to travel behind me as if he were a shadow. “Not now I’m busy.”

“Doing what? Oooo! Are you going hunting for that flew--flewor--flewour?

“Yes, and don’t tell mom, she’ll kill me!”

“Can I come with you please?

“No. I don’t want you getting lost on the way, but do me one thing when I sneak out tomorrow night tell mom and dad that I’m sleeping and don’t want to be bothered.

When I come back I’ll give you a flower.”

“Will you please bring me back a daisy?”

“Promise but only until you keep this a secret. Okay?” With that being said Cooper nodded his head with a big smile across his face.

The sun was rising and everyone was sound asleep in Martland. Well, everyone except for little Cooper. He wanted to show me that he could also surprise the family with a flower. Cooper boosted himself by chanting, “You got this Cooper. Sissy’s going to call me the best little brother.” He opened the door without a sound so that no one in the house perceived him. He stepped off of the sun protected porch headed for 4621 Avenoak. His little legs only made it 5 meters out the house.

Only his ash that lied in his khakI shorts and red firefighter shirt was to be seen.

Hours later the odious and vile sun had set. There was a loud bang of the front door closing. My dad came running in with tears. Which was odd because I haven’t ever seen him cry before. All of a sudden he yelled, “Tell me this is a joke! Tell me this really hasn’t happened to my son, my youngest child!”

With being said he was holding up Cooper’s shirt and khakI shorts; his face was bright red. My face immediately started to turn red, my eyes got watery, and a sniffle came from my nose. At that point I knew it was my fault; I realized Cooper followed me around. He probably was headed for 4621 Avenoak.

“Mom, dad...I’m so so sorry. I think 125

this is all my fault.”

“How is this your fault Camellia?” My parents both questioned with puzzled looks on their faces.

“I was making a plan to sneak out tonight, but Cooper interrupted. My plan was completely safe and I know my way around.

I have my bag packed with an oxygen mask and snacks, but I can see I won’t be needed those anymore.

“Camellia you aren’t to be blamed.

Your brother was young and didn’t comprehend why we aren’t able to go outside.” He said that with such disappointment. I thought why didn’t I just ask?

After everyone had calmed down dad left saying, “I’ll be back I have a surprise for you.” wondering what it was. Maybe he was bringing home fresh herbs, fruit, or vegetables. I was still very depressed, but dad made me realize that losing Cooper wasn’t my fault.

Three hours later dad still wasn’t back.

I thought that he was fine, and that he probably just went back to work. Someone was knocking on the door mom assumed it was dad and opened it. It was Uncle Smith he had ash all over him and his face was covered in tears.

“I have some really depressing news…”

He broke down crying. “Your dad has been in a really bad fire. He was getting ready to leave work with a bouquet in his hands, but there was a bad chemical spill.”

Mom and I made eye contact and had a rapid breakdown.

“He told me to take this bouquet and make sure you got it. So, I took the bouquet and tried to grab his arm but he told me to run.” I didn’t blame Uncle Smith just like Dad didn’t blame me.

The detestable sun rose, but I couldn’t sleep. I walked down the hall and crawled into bed with Mom. She was reading a book about photosynthesis. Then, she pulled me in 126

tight and started singing, “You are my sunshine my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray you’ll never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Kimora Utai Grade 8 Normal Park Museum Magnet Katherine Blake

Grade 9 Poetry

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Cold Cold Still in anticipation Waiting for the rest of the storm To pass Silent In peace with the fast fall of snow Almost sleepily Watching the white Consume everything Quickly yet Harmlessly And beautifully Clothing the ground In a blanket of pure White snow It’s art And it comes no matter what But without imposing threats Just calm Pure cold

Alayna Bradberry Grade 9 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 128

Frank Sinatra Frank Sinatra the King of swing Sweet and low is his thing On the stage, hundreds of fans He sings louder than banging pots and pans He stays on top of all the rock and roll All his albums filled with his soul Strangers in the Night and Come Fly with Me 130 top 40 hits I checked to see That last note he holds for so long But then sadly comes the end of the song

Josiah Knutson Grade 9 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 129

Grade 9 Prose

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Meta-humans I’ve grown accustomed to loss these last few years, what with the war and social classes saying only the poor can fight for those in need.

I was sent to training that spring. It’s funny to see such beauty in the world, in the flowers just budding, and the laughter of the children, come in the midst of such hatred and bloodshed.

It all started after a scientist in a lab made the discovery of artificial tissue, they then started enhancing humans with this tissue. They however did not take into account the fact of electrical sensors in the skin being hacked by unsatisfied humans taking out their rage with unsuspecting humans.

Once training commenced there were many obstacles such as swimming in extreme conditions, running with 100 pounds of weight, and combat training. My skills left much to be desired in many ways, I especially struggled with swimming, as I lived inland there was never a nee to learn. One day during a particularly tough day we were to swim while pulling a canoe with our gear inside, and I became too exhausted to stay above the water. And as I sank beneath the murky, salty water my hopes and dreams, that would never come to pass, seemed lost in the bright, shining morning sky high above me to far to reach. I first felt the burn and need for air and as I was slipping from conciseness, I felt a harsh tug at the nape of my neck. I thought it was the end, until I took that first glorious breath of air.

Darius, my rescuer, was not what I would I would have imagined my knight in shining amour to be. He is tall with tousled dark hair atop a heart shaped face and amazingly deep blue eyes. Soon after that we grew to become friends, commiserating with each

other and helping each other with certain skills. we both graduated top of our class in the compound.

As the date of our assignments drew near, the reality of our situation became real. I dreaded leaving what I had know as home for the last year, and wished I would never have to witness or deliver the death blow to an individual. Darius and I were distraught over losing one another and possibly dying before we met again.

When the letter arrived my hand shook and it felt as if it would burn a hole in my hand to hold it. My whole life was determined in just one paragraph, it read, “Dear recipient you have been assigned barrack 33 in the rose district. Enclosed is your hyper tunnel ticket for 09:00 on September 6. Please arrive promptly for inspection.”

It was most impersonal, but that was to be expected. I did not receive much notice before the time came to leave. I never properly said good-bye to Darius; if I am honest, I will miss him almost as much as the beautiful view of the lake in front of our compound.

I am on the train now trying to collect my thoughts and prepare myself for what can only be devastation, as the Rose district lies on the outskirts of the fighting. There are few accounts of them malfunctioning to expose to true scenery. I felt the train slow as we neared the depot.

When I arrived the only sign of life was the fellow passengers and the in the distance past the desolate landscape and barren trees that looked wear of being rooted to such a place, you could see the barracks in a color that if you weren’t looking you would miss it entirely. We were next directed to large, prehistoric jeeps, one of the only vehicles not driven by robots that would carry us across the sea of sand and rock they call desert. As we progressed to our destination I took in my surroundings. The girl across from me was 131

not however, as if she had seen it all already.

We arrived to the barracks shortly after the sun started its decent from the sky.

Before the jeep slowed a pinched faced woman ordered us that we had 5 seconds to leave the vehicle with a partner, and the last person would be on kitchen duty. The girl across from me and I both nodded to each other in an understanding that we would help each other and be partners.

Later that night as we introduced ourselves, we both agreed that to survive we would need each other. I found out her name was Myra and she came from one of the original districts, the west district, apparently her family was killed by the meta humans a year ago.

As we were selected for our positions we grew closer. I was selected for the job of organizing the wins and losses on both sides.

After months of grueling work and late nights cataloguing, all the while the meta humans grew closer. They attacked in the early morning, our defenses did not deploy and we were extremely vulnerable to a strike. I witnessed first hand why we did not attempt to stop them, some of the people among us were spies sent to disable us. A few of us banded together but as I searched for survivors I did not find Myra. Armed with only a gun and my will to live, I found her as I rounded the corner. What I found broke my heart she was fighting with the meta humans along with her there was 10 others. I had no choice, knowing I would be saving the few survivors is what steeled my resolve. I climbed a nearby ladder and crawled across the rafters until I was directly above her and the other meta humans.

I took aim at the gas line I knew was hidden behind the plaster walls. And watched as the room and my body was consumed in smoke and fire.

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Katie Brown Grade 9 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George

Smoke

After the deed was done no one could ever find him. The newspapers call him Smoke, because he disappears just like smoke.

He has brought corrupt politicians, businessmen, and criminals to their knees. His real name is Slade Reynolds, a former Secret Service agent who works at a security firm.

One day as he was going through his computer he saw an old article about Anatoly Volkov, a former Russian KGB agent turned mafia boss, who sold weapons. He was taken down by a CIA agent in the mid 2000’s.

But now had emerged and had sold military grade weapons to the Sinaloa Cartel. Slade found that Anatoly was controlling the Solntsevskaya Bratva, the largest and most powerful crime syndicate of the Russian mafia. He found out that the they had hired a legend, Igor the Assassin to do their dirty work. Anatoly had the power of the Russian Bratva and especially Igor the Assassin. He could distribute weapons and get away with it.

Slade decided he was going to take down Anatoly for good. He landed his plane in Khmki, Russia. After heading into Moscow he found Anatoly, sitting in a fancy Russian restaurant with his bodyguards. Slade left the restaurant after putting a tracking device on the bottom of Anatoly’s car. Then, he went to an abandoned warehouse to change into Smoke. He picked his katanas, karambit knives, Beretta pistols, and throwing stars. His suit was bulletproof and was made of Kevlar.

He had a hood that was made of bulletproof material. He followed the tracking signal to a house in downtown Moscow. He crept up the roof without making a sound, he peered in through a crack in the ceiling to see Anatoly sitting in a big comfy chair.

“Boss, the shipment to the Sinaloa cartel successfully reached them, and next

month they want a bigger shipment,” a big Russian said.

“Well, we will up our price. Won’t we?

Yes, let’s double the price,” Anatoly said with a wide grin.

As Smoke stood up, he got kicked in the gut and went flying down the roof onto the cold, hard pavement. When he looked up, he saw him: Igor the Assassin. Up to now Smoke had never seen him. There weren’t any pictures of him, only stories. Igor stood on top of the roof, staring down, a submachine gun pointing right at him. He jumped off the roof and landed without a scratch.

“Don’t move, I’ll make it quick,” Igor said. He raised his weapon and as he did, Smoke threw a throwing star, catching Igor in the shoulder. Igor’s concentration failed for a second and allowed Smoke to knock the gun down and punch him in the stomach.

Momentarily winded, Igor’s step faltered and Smoke made his escape into the moonless night. Seconds later armed Bratva members came out, but they were too late. Smoke had disappeared.

Igor walked into the chamber where Anatoly was and said, ”there was a man who was listening to our plans. He escaped, so I think we should move the bomb tonight and ship it to our Mexican friends.”

Anatoly erupted,“Why did you let this man escape? I thought you were supposed to be the best. If he comes back, take care of him, and carry on with tonight’s plan.”

Back at the warehouse, Slade was looking at his computer. His tracking device beeped indicating that Anatoly and his men were on the move. They stopped at the wharf and climbed onto a yacht carrying a big box.

Smoke crept through the wharf, and as he did he saw Igor opening the big box. Inside was a uranium bomb. Smoke snuck into the boat and into the engine room. As soon as the boat got into open water he stepped up and took 133

out the first guard by the engine. He swung himself up onto the deck where Anatoly was relaxing.

“It’s over Anatoly! You won’t destroy America with that uranium bomb,” Smoke said.

“So you are the reason we are leaving so early. You did good; but not good enough.

You can’t stop me. I will destroy America.”

Anatoly replied smugly.

“Take out the garbage!” Anatoly barked. Anatoly’s bodyguards took out their guns; but Smoke took out his throwing stars and crippled them before they could fire a shot.

“Impressive! Let’s see how you do against Igor the Assassin,” Anatoly chuckled.

Igor had a pistol in one hand, and a knife in the other. With a cry of anger Igor rushed in and punched Smoke in the jaw. Smoke retaliated with a spin kick to the gut. He pulled out his karambit knife and swiped at Igor across the chest, but Igor blocked it and shot Smoke in the shoulder. Igor followed with an uppercut and Smoke landed on the ground unmoving.

“You’re not so tough,” Igor shouted as he laughed. But as he lifted his gun in the moonlight, Smoke kicked Igor’s feet and knocked him out with an elbow to his stomach. He stood up and walked towards Anatoly.

“Wait a minute, we can talk,” Anatoly cried out. All the time pulling his hidden gun to shoot him; but Smoke shot him in the hand first.

“Thank you. This was fun! I wish you could see me take down the rest of the cartels you’ve weaponized,” Smoke said breathing heavily.

“But I think you will be occupied.”

Smoke quickly walked over to the activated bomb. He didn’t have enough time. He hoped onto a small motorboat.

134

“Wait, don’t leave me here! I’ll die!”

Anatoly yelled.

“That’s the point. Dead men tell no tales,” Smoke shouted over the wind. He sped away. As he neared the shore, he looked back to see the boat become a mushroom cloud; and without a sound Smoke disappeared into the night.

Evan Delgado Grade 9 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George

Grade 10 Poetry

135

This Poem This Poem may not be all that great (I’m afraid I wrote it rather late) And I don’t have the gift to compose Such wonderful things as some people wrote In fact, I was so pressed for time I had to put in some slant-rhymes Which I hate I think that they’re like An itch you can’t scratch try as you might The rhythm isn’t that good either It’s jerky and choppy, like a seizure Yes, this poem isn’t that great I shouldn’t have waited to write it this late

Lexi Bacon Grade 10 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 136

Dear Scruffy Dear messy Dear yellow Dear warm Dear determined Dear puzzle I never found the last piece to.

On Monday You stayed up very late Tangled in your sheets You watched a movie on your phone And muffled your laughter with a blue quilt.

On Tuesday I saw you chase your dog down the street She was running after a man on a bicycle You weren’t fast enough to catch her yourself, So the man had to carry her back to you.

On Wednesday You went out for breakfast with your mom You had a conversation about planting petunias in the garden And going to see your grandfather And reading a book together Over pancakes and subpar hash browns.

On Thursday I watched you with your hand in your hair Pulling nails over your scalp Combing out the tangles and wincing to yourself Eyes pressed shut and shoulders hunched.

On Friday You ate leftovers You read a magazine You listened to your father talk about his old motorcycle He told you never to ride a motorcycle And you iced the ankle you sprained over a month ago.

137

On Saturday You stayed in bed.

On Sunday More of the same.

On Monday You stayed up very late.

Signed scruffy Signed messy Signed yellow Signed warm Signed determined Signed puzzle you’ll never find the last piece to.

Ruth Beeland Grade 10 Chattanooga High School Center for Creative Arts Sandra Howard Winner of the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Poetry 138

The Girl Dancing I can see her so clearly, Hair covering her face, Skirt twirling ‘round her legs, She’s spinning, spinning, spinning, Twirling like a top.

How come I can see her so clearly but no one else can?

I pick up a pencil, to sketch out her figure, But how to make her spin and dance?

What starts as mixed-up lines, Becomes a girl dancing, With hair covering her face, And her skirt twirling ‘round her legs.

But still she calls out to me.

Tells me she isn’t finished.

She stands stationary on the page, I cannot make her dance.

Lucy Haywood Grade 10 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 139

Grade 10 Prose

140

Fight for Justice Chapter One

“Quickly! They’re coming!” *MiRae quietly shrieked to her best friend Soo Young.

“What do we do?” Soo Young shrieked back.

MiRae pulled her along as she answered, ”Over there! Behind those!”

The girls ducked down behind some big wine barrels while trying to slow down their heavy breathing.About six men dressed in black and carrying swords dashed passed and stopped at the crossroads about five yards from where the girls were hiding.They spoke amongst themselves in low voices for a few minutes before splitting up into three groups, two men for each of the three streets that came together at the T section of the street.

As one pair retraced back passed the hiding place, MiRae spotted something. She poked Soo Young and silently pointed. It was a small red snake embroidered into the right sleeve of both men.

“You did see that right?” MiRae asked her best friend.

A pale faced Soo Young nodded her head in return. “That means… Those are…”

“Uugh!” MiRae groaned, “what have we gotten ourselves into?!”

MiRae and Soo Young had been walking through town one afternoon, enjoying themselves. They had eaten toffee, picked out some pretty accessories from the street shops, stopped to watch some street performers, and finally ended their afternoon by ordering some spicy chicken feet and moderate amount of *mageolli from a nearby inn.

The girls were having too much fun because after they knew it, the sun had set and it had become dark. This wasn’t the time for any proper young lady to be out and about.

Soo Young snapped to attention.

“Ya! MiRae-a! We’ve been here way too long! The torches on the streets are already being lit!.”

“Oh my goodness! Lets get out of here! Our mothers are going to be worried.”

MiRae quickly answered.

The girls quickly proceeded to pay the owner and began walking down the street.

“We need to get back home, and fast.

Mother’s going to be so angry! She’ll never let us go out again! Oh, we should’ve taken my brother with us!” rambled a worried Soo Young. “Can we please find a shortcut?”

“Ok, ok let us find a shorter route home. What about down that road? It looks like it could save us some time.” MiRae replied. “Wait! look! Some guys in black just passed across the end of this ally. They’re carrying a big bag.”

The girls ran to the end of the alleyway just in time to see the men turn a corner into the courtyard of a dark, abandoned house.

“Oh my goodness it was wiggling!

Gasped Soo Young. “It looked too big to be an animal. MiRae-ah, I think it’s a person!”

“I think you’re right!” Agreed MiRae. “Let us follow them.”

The two figures moved along the shadows till they got to the place where they last saw the men. The girls crept up to the short stone wall around the house. Everything was suspiciously quiet, then a barely audible, muffled cry was heard inside the house. Two of the men stepped out of the house and stood beside the door.

“What do we do?” Whispered Soo Young as they ducked down even further.

“Let us go around to the back and find a window. But we must be very quiet, this seems like a very dangerous situation.”

So they did just that. A tiny hole was found in the wall and the girls took a turn each to look into the dark room.

141

“I count six men inside. Four of them are dressed in black. I think they might be private guards,” Reported Soo Young. “I can’t see the person who was in the bag though because some man is standing in front of it. He looks like a *Daegam and I think that might be his servant beside him.”

“So I guess there are a total of eight people here, counting the two outside”

“Yes, it appears that way. I can see the hostage now, it looks like a young woman. Oh my! One of the guards is holding his sword to her throat! I think they are trying to make her tell them something.”

“Oh that’s bad. Ok my turn Soo Young-ah”

The girls quietly switched places and continued to watch. They couldn’t hear much of what was going on but they had a pretty good idea. A few more minutes passed. Then suddenly the important looking man seemed to have lost his patience. Grabbing the sword from the guard, he yanked the girl up by her collar and proceeded to stab her. MiRae stifled her scream and stumbled back a few steps.

“Somebody’s here! I told you to make sure the place was clear!” the Daegam barked when he heard the sound. “Go catch them now and you better not let them get away!”

“Run Soo Young! Now!” MiRae screamed.

MiRae grabbed Soo Young’s hand and ran the opposite way they’d come. They had a pretty good head start, but the guards were slowly catching up. They had to find a place to hide. That was when they found the spot behind the big wine barrels, spotted the small, red snake on the right sleeves of the guards and then realized that they were in even bigger trouble now than ever before.

142

1. *MiRae (mee-reh) roll the R once 2. *Makgeolli (mak-keeo-lee) —

Makgeolli is Korean rice wine

3. *Dae-gam (teh-gam) — A Daegam is a very high ranking official. Daegam means, My Lord.

Abby Vega Grade 10 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George

Grade 11 Poetry

143

DiamantĂŠ Poem BMW E30 Quick, loud Driving, cornering, shifting Wheels, seats, pedals, shifter Boring, disgusting, not interesting Ugly, slow Toyota Prius

Matthew McConnell Grade 11 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 144

If It Could Be a Better World Separated by labels, titles and names We’re the same; human, yet we divide.

Capable of love, yet we kill Of acceptance, though we discriminate.

Understanding, but we plug our ears and carry on.

If only we could unite, put agendas and hatred aside A better world would be a few feet away.

Logan Oates Grade 11 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George Runner-Up for the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Poetry 145

Grade 11 Prose

146

Where My Thoughts Go to Rest

Less than a mile down the road, where soil meets the wet mixture of hydrogen and oxygen, is where my thoughts go to rest. When my mind whirls with feeling and emotion, I venture to this place so my brain can relax. I put my shoulders back and my hands on the wood of the old, mature dock.

The fresh moist air enters my lungs through my nostrils as I take deep breaths, inhaling the scenery. In this place I feel one with my surroundings, and everything is at peace.

During stressful days I enjoy the short walk along the broken sidewalk, beside the paved road, which leads to the outside world. In this confined neighborhood I feel secure and alone, safe from the danger beyond. I walk under trees where leaves fall to the ground, and pine needles and pine cones are scattered. These trees tower above me like monuments reaching to the gods. Breezes push and pull on their unbreakable backs and as they sway more leaves fall. The warm sun’s rays reflecting on my skin fight against the breeze in a battle of temperature. As I briskly make my way toward the hill that cascades to the lake’s edge, I see bold and beautiful clouds that stretch across the sky with spindly arms connecting to one another. Trotting along, kicking rocks and leaves, I make my way to the end of the sidewalk.

Crossing the street, I approach the rusted black gate that acts as a barrier to unwanted forces. I slide under it; slowly and carefully I make my way down this steep terrain ending at the water, where a new ecosystem begins. At last, I reach the outstretch of wood where I can finally feel free. I plant myself to the dock like a flower taking root, and tell my mind it is free to wonder. Here and now I feel completely unrestrained and

alone. I can contemplate and imagine anything I wish inside the endless plains of my own mind. On the right side of me is another dock, a private one owned by another neighborhood member, with still water all around it. If I continue looking in that direction, I can see all the way to the other side of the lake where fish reside in the deep, choppy water that branches off and expands out of my little canal. On the left of me I see more docks and cliffs with trees grasping onto the edge, in fear of falling to their imminent death. On either side there are reeds and grass that grow from the floor of the lake; these are home to small fish, turtles, and even snakes. Occasionally, ducks or a geese may swim by, minding their own business as they hunt and play.

This is my happy place. I feel welcome and isolated as I sit on this dock in between two prominent hills that stand proud and tall above me. I feel content and safe in my valley of meditation. With nature surrounding me, my senses are alert and I am aware. I can hear chirping birds singing their beautiful melodies like a choir, and the distant mating calls of hawks waiting for their spring ritual to begin. Every song and sound I can hear is like a mother’s voice to an infant child, clear and distinct. If I lie on my back, I can see the clouds making their journey across the broad, open abyss. From where I reside, they seem slow and lethargic, but high up in the air they move at a quick pace. As more clouds cover the sky and the sun hides away, the chilling breeze conquers the battle over temperature and goose bumps ripple across my skin like a disturbance on the water that stretches before me. An eerie feeling creeps up my spine like a spider on its delicately constructed web.

My relaxing venture comes to an end as I retrace the path that I had set earlier that day. Slowly the sun fades away and the 147

moon will soon become the thief of the sky, stealing away the light with the stars dancing along brightly beside it, encouraging this treachery. I walk back under the trees, which look more ominous now that the sun is nearly gone. I make my trek home feeling renewed and calm. Even though I’ve left my happy place, the feeling still lingers in my soul and the song of nature echoes throughout me. Finally, I end my journey back at my home, and the night begins its exciting brawl as creatures come to life. Although I have left, it will never be forgotten, because less than a mile down the road, where water and earth become one in a harmony as sweet as the song of life, is where my thoughts go to rest and my spirit roams free.

Bethany Matthews Grade 11 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George Winner of the Verbie and Hugh Prevost Award for Outstanding Prose 148

Grade 12 Poetry

149

I Praise Thee I praise thee for birds, grass, and trees.

I praise Him for all that be.

For laughter, life, and love.

For all that be above And below.

For he made the rainbow, and he made snow.

Thank you Lord for this day.

For he crafted man and woman out of clay.

His love surrounds us and is steadfast.

I praise thee for all that has come to pass.

Laney Jenkins Grade 12 Chattanooga Christian School Kathaleen Hughes 150

Terra Est Terra The Italians.

The Chinese.

The Moldovans.

The Canadians.

The Bahamans.

The Dutch.

The Mexicans.

The Russians.

People from all corners of earth.

They cross the boundary.

Why? To have a better life?

To make money?

To have a family?

To live the American Dream?

To steal our jobs?

To take our welfare?

To become governor?

Does it matter?

At one time or another, We all were from a different land.

Why is it so different that they’re foreign?

Thev’ve just come at a different time, And they are actually a blessing.

They have brought so many things to us.

Google and Apple The Statue of Liberty The Brooklyn Bridge The White House Santa Claus Jeans Hotdogs and Hamburgers Even American Cheese was invented by a Canadian

151

At one time or another, We all were from a different land.

A time to be different should not exist.

All people of every nation Help one another.

We are not so different because We all come from the same roots.

From land to land we go.

Duncan Joyner Grade 12 Chattanooga Christian School Kathaleen Hughes 152

A Loose Attraction to the Pain of my Heart La douleur exquise, you are beautiful and loved.

My la-lay-bya in la-grant distress; save me from liquor and my lot – I am lonely in need of rest.

You may lament me as Lebanon; loved but lost.

A leopard who loses his spots is laughing and lucid without his la-lay-bya, he is a leper; A ledger to hold his lips and is a lout to hold his heart.

La douleur exquise, linger nigh under lock and key; What loose facets of law! My la-lay-bya – are you my insanity?

The lord of hell could not keep me from you; the loop of love can....

Joshua K. Nicholson Grade 12 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George 153

I Dream In midnight sleep, of the people in need, Of the look of their broken hearts — the sadness dripping from their soft cheeks; Of the helpless in their eyes, with arms extended wide.

I dream, I dream, I dream.

Of the scenes of school, public and home; Of the suffering of others, after a scuffle — and through the hard moments in life, Looking down on those who can’t help themselves and suffer in their time of need, I dream, I dream, I dream.

Long, long have they asked help and felt the painful feeling; Where through the carnage I’ve moved with a hardened heart —far into the fallen they go, Now in the depths of thought—thinking of the weak ones into the night, I dream, I dream, I dream.

Josiah Sneller Grade 12 Chattanooga Christian School Kathaleen Hughes 154

Sway Closing doors Music on Swinging to a drowsy song Close your eyes Sing along Think of where you might belong Quiet heart Quiet mind You have already been found

Michelle Williams Grade 12 Chattanooga Christian School Kathaleen Hughes 155

Grade 12 Prose

156

Till the End of Days

His fingers traced gentle lines down her forearm to her wrist, pushing gently to hold them in place. He clasped her small hands in his large ones, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been present lately.” Steven whispered in her ear, his lips almost touching it.

“It’s fine. You’ve been busy.” Kat mumbled into his shoulder, rubbing her face into his soft button-down.

“That’s no excuse. I promised I’d love you till the day I die, and I feel like I’ve broken that.” The pain that laced his words cut through the air like darts. “I haven’t been here for you, and I know that’s what you need.”

“Steven…” she tilted her head upwards.

“Yes darling?” He pulled back ever so slightly, just to make eye contact.

“The wall isn’t super uncomfortable, but we spent more than we should have on squishy couches and a mattress from ‘heaven’.

Can we perhaps move to one of those locations?” Kat cocked her head, sarcasm flecked in her eyes.

“Of course. Why didn’t you open with that?” he pulled her away from the wall slightly and scooped her up in his arms. He slowly walked into their bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. He laid down and held his arms out to Kat, who in return crawled into them and rested her head on his chest, a leg draped over his.

“I missed this.” She murmured, tracing small patterns into his shirt.

“Me too.” He stroked her golden-brown hair. “How long has it been since we’ve done this?”

“Too long. Far too long.” She replied.

“I miss our talks too.”

“Then talk to me.” He tilted her chin up slightly to meet his gaze. “Tell me everything.”

Kat sighed and stilled the movements of her hand, letting it rest on his chest. Talks for them weren’t like any normal “couple talk”.

They included deep feelings, mental issues, and quite often, oceans of tears accompanied these talks.

“These past few weeks have been really hard.” She began. “Not only because you’ve been so busy and we’ve barely had the time to talk, but because I’ve been talking to myself too much.”

Her demeanor changed, and she squeezed Steven slightly. “I feel worthless. I feel like I’m nothing. I look in the mirror and all I see is a disgusting excuse for a human. I don’t understand how people think I’m ‘cute’, ‘adorable’, or ‘beautiful’. I don’t feel any of those. Most days, I don’t even want to go out because nothing looks good on me.”

The second those words left her lips, Steven felt his heart shake. He knew Kat had issues with body image and mental health, but he thought she’d been getting better and had been in a stable headspace.

“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as those thoughts came back? You know I’ll do everything in my ability to make them go away.” He felt his throat get tight with emotion.

“Because,” she continued, “I knew that you were busy and had a lot of good things going for you. I didn’t want it to seem like I was jealous and hogging attention.” She hid her face in his side, her small body shaking with tearless sobs. Steven sat up and pulled her into his lap, holding her close.

“Darling, I wouldn’t ever think that.

And if I ever do, I’m sorry. You are worth more than the world to me. Promotions and sales have no place over you. If you are in pain and feeling lost, everything takes a backseat.

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Always.” His large hands gathered the fabric of her shirt, tears gathering in his eyes.

“But…” she whispered.

“No.” he interjected. “Nothing is more important that your health, mental and physical.”

“I know that. But I just don’t feel it.”

Kat sniffled, her makeup-free face streaked with tears.

Stephen sighed.

“You don’t have to feel it to be it. You are one of the most beautiful women I know and I am blessed to be able to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His hands traced down to her hips, slipping under the baggy t-shirt.

“It hurts me to see you like this. To see you tearing yourself down from the inside out. I want to make you feel beautiful. I want to make you feel like a woman.”

With those words, Steven pressed his lips against her neck gently.

“You are perfect for me, and you should be perfect for yourself.”

Kat sighed and leaned back, pulling away from his kiss. “I’m not perfect Steven.

I’ll never be.”

“Shut up and just give me my moment. I didn’t exactly have time to rehearse what I’m saying.” Steven smirked at her, pulling her back towards his chest.

“But it’s pointless to-“ Steven cut her off by capturing her word-laden lips with his soft ones. His hands crept up her back slightly, gently massaging her smooth skin. Her hands went to his hair, tugging and spinning the soft strands around her fingers.

He pulled back, grinning at her. “How do you feel now?”

She paused, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “I feel warm. And happy.”

“Good. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. You are a beautiful, young woman and I wouldn’t trade you for anything 158

or anyone in the world. You may not always feel like you are worth something but take it day by day. Don’t be afraid to talk to me and tell me how you feel. That’s one of the many reasons I’m here.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and then her nose, and finally her lips. Her eye filled with tears, but this time the tears were filled with joy and love. A single tear ran down her face and caught on her open lips.

“I love you Steven.”

“I love you Kat. Till the end of days.”

Abigail Jennings Grade 12 Hilger Higher Learning Shelley George