TINY SILHOUETTES

Bella Zenecke Grade 9, Boise

I grabbed my little brother’s hand as I lead him through a maze. His warm hand pressed against mine. The maze is full of turns: let, right, right, straight, right again. I see a crumbling building. Worn down by age. And torn by them. The things chasing us. Making us isolated, alone. All resistance against them gone. Entire cities gone.

Nearly a year earlier.

Laughter rang in my ears. Sweet cake smells ill the air. Children run around playing games. Adults stand around talking with each other. My little brother Josh runs with the children, doing what they do. Josh spots me and runs over to me, forgetting about the game. The others keep playing but Josh stands next to me, one foot shorter than me. His blonde hair makes him look like Draco Malfoy from the third year in Harry Potter, but his blue eyes make him look like a male model. I see a lash. I look in that direction. Our two dogs stand there. Our brown and white female pitbull, Millie, stands there with an older black and white male border collie, Connor. They both seem to be listening and talking to each other. I feel something wrong, so I pulled Josh to the house and locked the door. “Callie, what are you doing? What’s wrong?” Josh looks at me, confusion written on his face. My glasses start to fall so I push them up. My long brown hair, pulled in a ponytail, is swinging slightly. I whisper to Josh, “Something’s not right.” Josh laughs at me and I feel heat on my cheeks. My 13-year-old brother is making fun of his two-yearsolder sister. He says, “Stop worrying so much.” I turn around and reach for the handle but hesitate. That’s when the screaming starts.

Camaron Davis Grade 7, Houston, TX

I saw a black hole. The black hole had an orange aura. The orange could be from a solar system it swallowed. It could have swallowed universes or it could be the end of the world. But what would happen if you went inside of it? You could be teleported to a planet with aliens . Then the planet would have wildlife or trees. Or it could be just a desert. Or the black hole could be nothing just your imagination.

THE NECKLACE OF EDGEWOOD

Addison Kostelec Grade 8, Boise

Rose stands on the beach next to her house, gazing out at the ocean. She tightly holds the necklace her mom gave her. “I wish you were here, Mom.” Rose whispers, letting a tear fall. The tear falls on the necklace, and it glows for barely even a second. Rose ignores the glowing, thinking she’s just imagining things. Rose takes of her lip lops and walks to the ocean. She stops walking as she takes a step into the ocean. Chills go through Rose’s body. The water is cold. Rose sits down. The water gently splashes against her. Ater watching the sunset, Rose walks in her house. On the way to her back bedroom, she hears her dad on the phone. “Yes, I can make it to the conference this weekend.” Rose runs to her bedroom, tears in her eyes. Rose throws herself on her bed, letting the tears out. Had her dad forgotten that her birthday was that weekend? Again, Rose’s necklace began glowing, but it was brighter and it glowed longer. She ignored it, but she couldn’t get to sleep. Her thoughts kept driting back to her necklace.

Cecelia Greene Grade 7, Meridian

Everyone has monsters. At least one. My monsters hear, but don’t listen. They speak, but not the truth. My monsters act, but also lie. But my monsters infect. They make more. My monsters give wounds, but not physical. And if you try to stop them, then they’ll eat you alive. My monsters are horrible scavengers, but on the outside, they’re just...shadows. And shadows...come from people.

THE SKEPTIC AND THE DREAMER

Griin Pochop

Grade 8, Boise

Shan’t we go wishing at the well up east? These wishes, you know, will always come true... Long the walk is, and the well is a beast... These wishes, you know, don’t always come true...

But for the man who wished for a hero! What for the man who asked for his true love... A cow was the only sweetheart he got. Absurd!

The well is in a glade of irs, my dear! As beautiful as thee, I hear... Ridiculous! All we’ll ind there is dead pines and rot. Just like the last wisher was shot!

But to say we went, my love... We’d have better luck, wishing on a dove!

Shan’t we go wishing at the well up east? These wishes, you know, they always come true... Long the walk is, and the well is a beast... These wishes, you know, don’t always come true...

Nick Maher Grade 8, Meridian

“Faster!” He yelled as he and another person were running down a long corridor. He heard banging on the steel loor behind him. Those creatures were catching up. Suddenly, blood splashed on the walls, meaning he lost his friend. He entered a large and very tall room. He rushed over to the side of the entrance and entered a code he had seen in the previous room. The door shut and was instantly followed with banging and scratching. He took a quick glance around the room. Something immediately caught his eye. A vine descended from the sunlight above. That was his way out. He reached over to the vine. He was about to grab onto it but he saw something that made his heart drop. The vine was covered in thorns. He looked around to see if there were there was anything he could shield his hands with. The room was empty. He didn’t want to climb the vine but the banging and scratching on the metal door behind him reminded him that his life was on the line. He put one hand on the vine and sharp thorns. Pain followed. He put his second hand on the vine and hoisted himself up. The pain was horrible. He started to climb. Tears burned in his eyes. Eventually he reached the end. His hands were bleeding, but all the pain was worth it just to have the warm sunlight cover his whole body. He lited his hands so he could escape this horrible place. Only for his ears to be met with the horrible sound of an object hitting glass. Confusion and fear overwhelmed his body. He looked up. Snap. The vine was he was holding snapped. Time seemed to freeze as he was falling. He hit the ground, breaking his back and killing him instantly. This was the fate of some normal high school students. They were forced into a world where they had to compete to escape traps. People said once you were in that world you could never go back. People also call this the labyrinth curse. Kane woke up excited to start a new day. Although he was unaware that he would be the next victim of the labyrinth curse.

Belèn Hoobing Grade 7, Boise

Suddenly, the light beams

Clank.

I can hear the metal grinding

brightness all around.

Above, the artiicial light is gleaming

Pain.

Something does not feel right about my surroundings

Many faces.

People bend over, staring down

ALIVE.

I sit up and realize what is happening:

I am alive.

Tani Garrett Grade 7, Boise

I spin around with fear The voices are growing near. I want to run. But they tell me I’ll have so much fun I want to scream and shout Should not have taken the time travel route. The roots of evil have begun to grow When they asked I could have said no I feel as my legs collapse If I never found that watch I’d be safe Perhaps

I can feel as my world warps Soon I’ll be nothing but a corpse. I wish I had a warning When it’s done I’ll be nothing but a voice by morning As my vision fades Beware the clock of Spades.

LISTENER [EXCERPT]

Alana Rowland Grade 8, Eagle

The irst thing I saw was ire. It enveloped our garden and our home. Flames lapped at the air, heat distorting the sky above. Smoke lashed at my throat and my two biggest eyes were blinded by ash. My good claw instinctively reached for my spear, only to swoop at empty air. My top fangs pierced my lip as I scowled. How could I have lost it at a time like this? Feeling lost, I turned to Glowspun and followed their gaze. A single igure towered above the lames, as tall as the trees that loomed far above my head. It turned its head. A singular void black eye glared at me and ire danced in its vision. It spread its hety jaws wider than the length of my body and roared. The sound shook my brain and stifened my body with fear. So this was a Bellower. Tiny silhouettes of other Listeners 84

gathered below and jabbed at it with their spears. How could they do anything against a creature of this size? I swallowed. “Wisteria,” Glowspun’s voice shocked me out of my trance. “Evacuate the others. The ire has reached the Underroots.”

I looked at Glowspun, ready to protest. “Now, Wisteria,” they commanded. “I’ll handle the Bellower.” They started towards the ire, then turned to me. “Remember, Wisteria. Fighting is not the only job of a Listener. Its true purpose lies in its name. Listen to the forest, Wisteria, listen to the land and ind somewhere safe to take refuge.” They paused. “I’m counting on you.”

H2O CHRONICLES: BOOK 1, HYDRO OMNIPOTENCE ORDER [EXCERPT]

Dev Alluri Grade 6, Boise

Prickles of cold stabbed through every inch of my body. It was like a million swords lew into my box, but it wasn’t a trick. It was real. At that very moment, all I knew was pain. Yet that sensation started to fade, leaving nothing let but emptiness. Everything around me was blue and murky. Clouding everything. I also knew I was wet. That pain leaving my body let room for me to feel other things. And wonder other questions. Who was I? What was I doing here? What is my purpose? Would I live or die? As everything started to turn hazy, those questions started to fade as well. I guess this was it for....There’s another question — what was my name? My lungs screamed for a breath that I couldn’t give them. Then the reality of the situation began to sink in: I would die a nobody. I began to close my eyes — a hand shattered not only the ice but the darkness on the edge of my vision. I was jerked up and onto land and I gazed up at a cloaked igure shrouded in black. I was so busy staring, I forgot something — to breathe. I wheezed out and started to hyperventilate, taking every breath I could. Everything was turning darker as I was pulled back into the abyss of my mind. No hand reached to pull me out of the darkness.

Harmony Sigler Grade 8, Boise

Nara walked through the cemetery of Warriors. Each grave was surrounded by dozens of colorful lowers and treasure. She wasn’t here to thank the Warriors for the strength they gave her in battle, she was here to ask for strength. She sat down next to a gravestone, her ingers tracing the name carved into the stone. ‘Troy’ was the pattern she touched. “I’m going on my irst mission since the battle at Fourway Bridge,” she told the gravestone. She gave a small smile, pulling her long dirty blond hair back in a ponytail. She continued her conversation with the gravestone. “Guild master Bree says I’m inally allowed out since I snuck out that day.” Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “She said I fought well.” Her smile turned into a frown, her eyes illing with sadness.

“It’s all thanks to you, thanks…for training me.” She plucked a lower and lited it to her nose. “I’ll miss you, Troy.” She stood and walked towards the gates leading out. She gave the cemetery one last look at the grave surrounded by lowers. It was almost like being in a garden — a Garden of Graves.

ARRANIS [EXCERPT]

Matthew Rauer Grade 9, Eagle

The story thus far: Nicholas was running from a group of bullies in a red truck, and turned down a dark road with his eyes closed. He saw a light behind his eyelids, and ran toward it.

Nicholas continued forward toward the growing light that was there and not there all at once. He stopped running, realizing that his eyes had been closed. Opening them, Nicholas frantically looked around, silently, and a little audibly, hoping that he would not see the bright red truck and those despicable headlights. He didn’t.

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Nicholas glanced around, trying to locate the source of the lights. His eyes landed on a decrepit plot of land. Confused, Nicholas looked closer at the remains as he approached it. It was a fairly large fenced-of area. There was only one entrance, which Nicholas cautiously walked toward. Inside this former garden was a gazebo that looked like it should have been demolished decades ago. Surrounding the gazebo were hundreds of dead and decaying plants. Discarded leaves and lowers lay everywhere, creating an uncomfortable crunching sound as Nicholas walked closer to the gazebo. Somewhere in the distance a clap of thunder went of like an audience of thousands, eagerly applauding the lash of lightning that had preceded it. The hair on the back of Nicholas’s neck stood up from the increased amount of energy that permeated the air. Nicholas hopped up the crumbling steps of the gazebo and saw old benches lining the sides of it. Except for the pristine bench that was stationed in the center of this area, they all looked the same: cold and lifeless. He walked over to it, inquisitively, and sat down in the middle of it. Nicholas let out another sigh, letting all the stress and anxiousness that was building in his shoulders come out through this single breath. Closing his eyes and relaxing for a moment, Nicholas shited on the bench. As his eyelids met, the dying garden turned into a beautiful square of perfect lines of roses, all cut in perfect symmetry with each other. This image was a stark contrast to the desolation seen before. Shocked, Nicholas jumped of the bench and opened his eyes. The dead graveyard of lowers met his gaze. Wary and intrigued, Nicholas closed his eyes as he stood in the gazebo. All he saw was the inky blackness that was the complete absence of light. In puzzlement, Nicholas gazed back at the bench, a slight gleam in his eye. He investigated it, looking at it up and down, bending over to peer underneath, and running his hand along the smooth wooden surface. Ater much deliberation inside his head, Nicholas concluded that it was a perfectly normal bench.

Shaking his head, he sat back down on the bench, this time keeping his eyes wide open. If anything happens to change, he 87

thought, I’ll see it right here with my own eyes. Nicholas sat there for 10 minutes, ears perked, eyes wide, ingers twitching, and nostrils sniing, looking for any sign that someone was behind this illusion.

THE BROKEN CLOCK TOWER

Rowen Carson Grade 7, Eagle

Once there was a 10-year heat wave in a town called Fredona. Fredona’s pride and joy was their clock tower in the center of town square. However the heat wave had stopped the clock in the clock tower from working, and when they tried to ix it none of the workers would work in the tremendous heat. So they began to ask all the animals and creatures in the nearby countryside, and none but the pigs said yes. “But,” said the pigs, “on one condition. You and no one in the town can eat bacon or ham ever again.” “Fine,” they all agreed. “Please just ix our clock tower.” So the pigs did in just under a week. The clock tower was working once more. The town was so very happy and they all kept their promise to the pigs for a long while. But eventually they started eating bacon and ham again so the pigs stormed toward the tower in fury and started tearing it down brick by brick and plank by plank until there was nothing let but a cloud of dust and a pile of rubble. However, the pigs did not stop there. They started tearing down and destroying every house and shop in the town (except the vegans’ houses, all of their houses were ine). The homes of hundreds of people were destroyed and the pigs just kept on tearing down and destroying every building (except the vegans’ houses, those were ine) while the citizens cowered and did nothing. Finally, ater two whole days of the pigs’ rampaging, the entire town lay decimated (except the vegans’ houses) and families were without shelter from the terrible heat. So those families let and travelled to the nearby cities and towns and Fredona became a city of vegans ruled by pigs.

The End.

THE LUCKY ONE [EXCERPT]

Katie Abercrombie Grade 8, Eagle

The air was getting worse, it was rising, and the First City wasn’t getting any taller. People got sicker every day, and the lower levels, well, they were far beyond hope. Some days he wondered why he had been chosen as the lucky one. He was useless in this world, just a rugrat thief looking out on the low rise. He’d been let on his own to survive in this dying world, and he didn’t really spare the time to question it. But standing in this line, waiting his turn to receive the weekly check, he managed to block out the angry protests and ask himself a few things he knew you wouldn’t receive the answer to. “Citizen A-16!” A harsh voice pulled him out of his stupor, and he shuled his way to the front of the crowd. “It’s, uh, it’s Ace but, um, sure, we’ll go with A-16.” He cleared his throat awkwardly at the man’s sharp glare, half of his face hidden behind the white mask he wore. “Your arm please,” he spoke, voice as cold and monotone as ever. “Oh, right here.” Ace pulled his arm from the front pocket of his jacket and presented it to the man. He nodded his approval and reached back to pull out a needle and syringe from the cubby. Ace grimaced at the size and looked away, trying his best not to think about it too much. The sharp pinch lasted a few seconds, leaving behind a numb feeling on the inside of his arm, making his ingers tingle in an unpleasant way. “Alright you’re good, please sign here,” the man tapped his black pen on a dotted line printed across a slip of synthetic iber in tiny inked circles. Ace looked of to the side, rocking on his feet gently, not realizing the man had spoken to him. “A-16, sign here, please,” he repeated, more irmly this time, and with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Huh? Oh yeah, of course, sorry,” he chuckled anxiously, nearly dropping the pen as he scribbled his name hastily on to the dotted line. “Alright, thank you, now move along for questioning,” the monotone voice ordered, shuling through papers and keeping his cold gaze downward and focused. Ace just nodded, unsure, and made his way over to the 89

next table. He didn’t have much time to register anything before they began to bombard him with questions. “Have you been to any of the lower levels recent-

ly?”

“Uh...” “Have you taken of your mask any time in the last 10

days?”

“No?” “Is anyone you know of or are in contact with sufering from or symptomatic of the illness?” “Yes, but–” “Thank you, move along now.” The woman did not lit her gaze from the clipboard in her hands as she ushered him along. Ace went home that night with a tired mind, a worrying thought, and a sore arm

SHIFTING [EXCERPT]

Jade Roscheck Grade 7, Boise

I remember sitting in a ield. Grass poked up from the dirt. Little lowers dotted the ground as far as the eye could see. A metal statue of a woman stood tall, her outstretched hand giving a little girl an apple, a bucket clasped between her let arm and her waist. I remember writing a story as the clouds shited position in the sky, sometimes blotting out the sun’s oppressive heat, sometimes not. I worked hard on my story, sitting on a bench next to the fountain. I remember setting down my paper, just for a moment, to give my hand a break. I remember the wind increasing, liting my paper up and then leaving it to fall lazily into the fountain, the seeds of my hard work being blotted out of existence. Disappearing beneath the cold blue waves. The lurch I felt in my heart that day reminds me of how I feel now. A few seconds ago, the ground gave a sudden shake and started moving faster. I wouldn’t have noticed except for the fact that the speed at which the ground was now moving was visible in the clouds. It was that fast. I confess that I may have screamed from the sudden movement. I stood there for a while, waiting for the sky to stop moving. Five seconds passed. Then 20, then sixty. It didn’t stop.