Cambia Writers in the Schools 2024
CAMBIA
WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS 2024
CAMBIA
cambium \kam-bē-əm\ noun
plural cambia, \-bē-ə\
The live, actively growing, layer of a tree. The cambium is one cell thick. It repeatedly divides itself to form new wood and causes the tree to grow and expand.
801 South Capitol Boulevard, Boise, Idaho 83702 (208) 331-8000
thecabinidaho.org
(c) 2024 The Cabin All rights reserved.
Book design by Adie Bartron
Cover artwork by Unsplash Images
Printed and bound in the USA in an edition of 250 copies.
WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS RESIDENCIES ARE MADE POSSIBLE BY GENEROUS SUPPORT FROM:
ArTPack
Idaho Commission on the Arts
National Endowment for the Arts
St. Luke’s
Laura Moore Cunningham Foundation
First Interstate Bank & Foundation
Select Health
J.R. Simplot Company Foundation
Idaho Power Foundation
Idaho Community Foundation
Amazon Literary Partnership
WE EXTEND SINCERE THANKS TO THE FACULTY AND ADMINISTRATION OF:
Adams Elementary School
Cardinal Academy
Frank Church High School
Jefferson Elementary School
Rose Hill Montessori School
Sage International School of Boise
Sage International School of Middleton
Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center
Valley View Elementary School
Hawthorne Elementary School
Whitney Elementary School
Morley Nelson Elementary School
Hidden Springs Elementary School
South Junior High School
West Boise Junior High
Fairmont Junior High
Introduction
Adams Elementary School
Jefferson Elementary School
Hawthorne Elementary School
Rose Hill Montessori School
West Boise Junior High & Fairmont Junior High
Sage International School of Boise
Sage International School of Middleton
Valley View Elementary School
Hidden Springs Elementary School
Whitney Elementary School
Morley Nelson Elementary School
South Boise Junior High
Cardinal Academy
Frank Church High School
INTRODUCTION
The writers in this breathtaking anthology write of trees that see and rivers whose ebb and flow are their very breath. They write of their dreams and their dogs. They explore the meaning of kindness and the beauty of the letter H. Golden summers, the freedom of Poetry Lane, derelict lands swirling in the cauldron of The End, heartbreak tales inspired by Taylor Swift, the onions and garlic of the Caribbean and family, sitting with sadness, demon children finding their place, apples and the red color of love, how all of life is happening at the same time and the privilege of being here and growing through all of it at the same time and how the pieces of past lives are not gone if only we choose to see their stories.
Recently, I was asked what impact I hoped to leave with my students long after they had left my classroom. I had many answers. I want my students to be kind people throughout their lives. I want them to remain open and curious about the world and continue contemplating our shared humanity. I want them to continue to read. The one answer I finally settled on was this—that no matter what they do with their lives, I want them to continue to write. I would be glad if they published volumes of fiction or worked in non-profit crafting cover letters and resumes for refugees in search of a new life. But, I will also be pleased if they open the Notes app on their phone and write a short poem about the dwarf bear they came across on their morning hike, or they choose to make sense of a nightmare or a therapy session by journaling.
This writing business is tricky. There is an intentional death and dearth of the humanities; creative programs are the first to be shut down. Voices are being censored. Language is being wielded and weaponized in frightening ways: the rise of almighty artificial intelligence and the seemingly instant generation of art, this need to point fingers back at artists and say, see, this was easy all along, you are not needed. There is so much noise and it has become difficult
to hear one’s self, to see why any of these matters. This anthology is why it matters. I think I can speak for every teaching-writer at The Cabin about what a privilege it is to be at the front seat of unimaginable talent. We help guide, shape, and find expression while learning new things about ourselves and our art. And every single time, these students rise to the occasion. And no matter what they do with their lives, they will continue to be writers. This is enough.
– Ayotola Tehingbola, Teaching-Writer
ADAMS ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Meg Freitag
HOW I SEE THE WORLD
Emme
Grade 5
Trees look down at me. The river breathes near me. The wind gives me breath, and, at the same time, it is giving itself breath. It’s like they are best friends working together to keep all the creatures alive. Nobody knows how hard they work. People, on the other hand, take everything for granted, like the world is trash. It’s not That hard to look carefully at the world and be happy. You don’t even need to have a microscope.
HOME
Giuseppe
Grade 5
I open the door. The nice smell of home. Everything fine. I’m not in school anymore. My family is here. I look at my dark tv. I wish it was a screen day for me.
STARS
Anders
Grade 5
The stars float high in the sky like birds frozen in the air. Sparkling, twinkling, and shining like lightbulbs. The constellations make pictures in my mind.
MY GROUNDBREAKING DREAM
Reese
Grade 5
I was fighting a blonde girl over a watermelon, as you would do in the Wizard of Oz land. I threw the watermelon at her and pushed her and as I was pushing her, she said, “Is that your dad?” and pointed to an eight-foot-three-inch dinosaur talking to a guy with a clock for a head. Two seconds later, Lightning McQueen and Ghostface were there, eating ice cream with butterflies in it. I walked down the weird road, and found myself flabbergasted by a really cool-looking alligator. While I was distracted, the blonde girl snuck up and smacked me, then ran away. I saw some flower people and walked up to them. They smelled strongly of my sister’s body scent. When I woke up, my sister was standing over me.
WHERE THE DOGS GO IN THEIR DREAMS
Maia
Grade 5
It’s a wonderful land, the Dreams of Dogs, With sunshine and green grass and flowers on logs, Places for dog food and water, too, Big, long fields and a sky that’s always blue, Not a cloud in sight, but there’s shade from trees, No vet, no meds, and of course, no fleas, Hikes all day, snuggles by night, No lightning storms to give us fright, Big fluffy beds and fluffy pillows, Every day a quick nap under the willows, Dog toys that squeak, And nice bacon treats, Everything is food, bacon, and sweets.
I wake up and lick my human’s face–My small pink tongue touches her nose–Then I close my eyes again, And back to the wonderful land I go.
JEFFERSON ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Chris Mathers Jackson
INSTRUCTIONS TO THE ARTIST
Anthony Grade 5
I wish you to sketch my head not with a quarter or dinner plate but with a colossal squid’s eye.
Painter, make me with my hands in a bucket of water with paint on my feet.
I wish you to paint my hair blue like the sky in July.
Painter, paint the background of your choice but remember not too light and not too dark with the moon and sun just slightly shining.
INSTRUCTIONS TO THE ARTIST
Lilah
Grade 5
I wish my head to look big at the top then get small towards the chin like an upside down egg
My eyes to look like pools of darkness miles deep My mouth to curve up at the tips just like the crescent of the moon. I wish my shirt to be
light blue just like the sky.
My jeans to be ripped as if a monster tore them up.
As for the background, I am by the mountains taller than the giants in the stories I’ve heard.
I don’t care where, just have my friends near me. You’ll have a photo for reference.
Please no hats but my hair should be blowing in the breeze.
A big beautiful yellow, orange sun in the sky by which you can sign your name. Thank you for taking the time to do this.
INSTRUCTIONS TO THE ARTIST
Tommy Grade 5
I am in a basketball court Make me a monkey, just a normal monkey please. There is a giant with a number 22 on his jersey the color blue Make it blue like the ocean
Make a stickman in the background make him dunk an orange basketball in a basketball hoop. Make this painting unique. Make animals around the court with abstract colors like gold.
Write my signature at the end of the painting. That is all I ask.
INSTRUCTIONS TO THE ARTIST
Jesse Grade 5
I wish you to draw me by a goal post or by a basketball hoop no matter the size.
Try to draw me with primary colors all over me and my clothes, My dog’s always crazy but nobody cares. She runs so much and smiles all day, or she’ll be tired all the time. I always carry a football or basketball.
Or you could draw me catching a football or dribbling a basketball You decide.
Draw me with a Steeler beanie and with Oakley sunglasses please and thank you. Sign your name and show the world.
One more time, thank you.
UNTITLED
Brandi Grade 5
The camp fire warms my feet as the waves wash the sand castle away. I feel the sand under my toes. The s’mores taste so good. The waves sound like they are roaring. The smell is like strawberries. I see the sun going down. When I swim it’s cold.
HAWTHORNE ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Hannah Rodabaugh
Pavan
Grade 3
The snow was falling from the tree, glistening in the bathing light of the sun.
ODE TO KINDNESS
Arvin
Grade 3
Kindness sounds like someone laughing. It sounds like jingle bells. It smells like soup given to homeless people, like sunshine replacing a storm, like joy replacing dejectedness, like a hot refrigerator. Kindness can be as hot as the sun, or as hot as a lightbulb. Like a spring day, kindness feels like a warm lake. You should be kind, too.
ODE TO THE LETTER H
Libbey
Grade 3
H is as important as you! Without H, we wouldn’t have hats or hippos or happiness, or school, Gareth, or sunshine. H looks as cool as part of our school and sounds as peaceful as rippling waters. It is as beautiful as the golden trees in fall and is as h—y as this ode. It tastes like sweet honey on a rainy day.
GOOGLE-Y EYES: A COMEDY
David
Grade 3
Everybody is poking me, and I feel so much pain. I am running out of knowledge because people are typing random things. For example: how to breathe, how to use the restroom properly, how to figure out 1+0, how to be an animal, can you live for 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 years? I dream of nobody using me for at least a minute, but every 0.01 seconds, a person pokes me. I wish for at least one day where nobody was poking me. I’d finally get to eat photos without being rushed. They taste hard, sometimes sour. They taste sweet only when the photo is in 4K. Sometimes I wonder, “What the heck are you thinking?” I just wish to be a non-busy website like a cheap candy website. I just think my life is a comedy movie named Google: The Next Einstein. I hope someone someday tells me I’m deleted and I have a ticket to the Bahamas as a reward, because I don’t know anyone who needs Google to find out what 0+0 is. I also don’t know a single 36-yearold who needs to ask Google, “How do you touch a finger?”
ODE TO THE FLAG
Raphael Grade 3
The flag of America looks like a starry sky, like a mozzarella pizza. A spear, struck through leather, like an ax.
Seen, but forgot, it is our foundation. It flies like a bird, calm like a river.
The source of pride, it is full of color, slow and steady, like a sloth, cool feelings come home. Planted like the Excalibur,
it is the country’s base. The flag should be respected as we do. It is our defense in all times.
ODE ABOUT BUGS
Gentry
Grade 3
Some bugs are as spiky as a needle. Others are as smooth as a polished rock. Some are as bumpy as a rocky beach. Others are as clear as glass. Their prickly legs feel like a small rose bush is on you, but small thorns. Some bugs are as kind as a parent. Some are as mean as a hippo. They are creepy, but nice. Some are cute, but mean, as small as a proton, as big as a mountain, as dirty as a pig in mud, as clean as soap. Bugs are awesome creatures. No matter how mean, how nice, how slithery, how rough, we should like them.
DELICIOUS COFFEE
Yalini
Grade 3
The coffee was so creamy, like ice cream. It was as sweet as reading a book in one day, as bitter as someone yelling at you. It was as golden as the trees in the fall. The soggy biscuit was as soft as the clouds. The coffee was warm as yellow, orange, and red in a beautiful summer sunset, milky as a bowl of whipped cream. The hot coffee made my heart hot in the cold winter.
ROSE HILL MONTESSORI
Teaching-Writers Elizabeth Lester Barnes
GOLDEN MOMENTS
Elise Grade 6
Horses galloping in the pasture.
Blossoming gardens.
Children playing in the grove.
The soft aroma of a stream
Swaying through the air.
Wind whispering in my hair.
This is summer. This is home.
WHAT IS POETRY?
Benjamin Grade 6
Poetry is Delight
Poetry is Beautiful
Poetry is Rhyming
Poetry is Surprising
Poetry is Emotion
Poetry is Math
Poetry is a form of writing
Poetry is Dreams of another World
Poetry is Words that hit Softly
Poetry is FUN!
THE PLACE OF MANY THINGS
Adee
Grade 4
You will pray the day away, away.
Away you will go to the place
The place called home, or is it Saint Gerome?
Home Home, what does it mean?
A place to sleep. A place to weep.
A place to lay down and sing of the weak.
Home
Away, away
The place of many things.
WHAT WE DO
Calla
Grade 4
What do you do, In the light of the moon
In the bright of the sun When nature drums?
A light of moon
A wind of night
The sun so bright I can’t decide.
A whistle blows
The winter snows Who knows?
What do you do, In the light of the moon?
WEST BOISE JUNIOR HIGH & FAIRMONT JUNIOR HIGH
Teaching-Writer Hannah Phillips
POETRY LN
Lauren Grade 8
I live on Poetry Lane… where the people are all artistic and fun,
where all the trees have painted bark… and all the houses vary with vibrant, fun colors.
where after dark all you can hear are the neighbors creating beautiful soothing music that’ll ease you to sleep at night.
but the most fantastic thing about Poetry Lane is that, you are free to be yourself.
A DREAM FOR MISS GABLE
Jasper Grade 8
You are a bee, swarmed by butterflies. Flower petals on soft yet pointy grass. Loose leaves on the ground. You look around, find a part of your family, and leave your butterfly friends. They follow, and you introduce them to your bee family. “These are my friends,” you say. “They are like my second family.”
SAGE INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL OF BOISE
Teaching-Writers Ayotola Tehingbola, Daisy Rosenstock, Sonya Feibert
WHERE I’M FROM
Artur
Grade 5
I am from a test lab in area 61, from HP and Print heads. I am from the dust in a house. (grainy, soft.
It smells like love.)
I am from the Rose, the Blood in my eye.
I’m from Pizza night and AI, from the name Hoopes and Torgsins. I’m from the love of life and death and Heart. From Saint Lukes and Love. I’m from love.
I’m from IDAHO! And tacos and street tacos. From the bloody noses I give and sensitive noses.
I am from Pics of me in Batman costumes (don’t question it, it’s true)
Because I’m only four.
WHERE I’M FROM
Grade 5
I am from Ikea Table. From pampers and baby wipes I am from the Quiet Garden. (stinky, spooky
It tasted like rotten tomatoes.)
I am from the Rock, the tree.
I’m from giving candy and yelling, from Jethro and Kapka.
I’m from the Yelling and Dancing.
Santa is real and the Easter Bunny exists.
I’m from God who nurtured me with life.
He gave me my eyes, my ears, my limbs and my organs.
I’m from Idaho Emils Branch, Musaca, Almond cake.
From the MY brother got a fish hook in his ear from someone who was not looking near.
and My dad is a hardworking man.
I am from the closet in a closed box. There are pictures of my family. When we open closets the pictures tend to fall out onto the floor.
They are important to remember good times in the past.
Breanna
Grade 5
WOLVES
They roam alone or as a pack through the forest, the river, and the deep snow. Enduring the harsh landscape, will they survive or perish? Only time will tell.
FLOWERS
They sway and bend in the wind, illuminating the hillsides with color. They are never tame and fill the eyes of all that gaze upon them.
MUSIC
Sweet sound fills the heart with joy and rewrites the world in brighter colors.
THE LONGEST WORD
It feels like it goes on forever and yet it stops
WORD
A simple conversation between one’s mind and soul.
BOOKS
A portal into one’s imagination and subconscious.
DEATH
A lot of things happen after you die. They just don’t involve you.
WATER
Water is life’s source of serendipity.
SCHOOL
Torture and some fun.
FRIENDS
A person to make memories with sometimes forever…or not.
SILENCE
The sweet sound of purity and nothingness.
DREAMER
One who decides to reach for the stars with a hope for greatness.
YOU
One person you can never replace because you are the only version of you. You are worth it, all of you.
UNTITLED
Gabriel
Grade 5
As the cold winter air brushes on the hunter’s shoulder while the women tend to the fire. The old broken sign of the shop dangling by them. While the kids and adults smoothly glide over the ice. Dogs padding softly behind them for comfort. When the hunters stride past, the cold dark birds fly in the gloomy sky. As the hunters walk past a bush crushed by the snow as white as the clouds.
THE WINTER VILLAGE
Dove Grade 5
The pond is cold and the fire is warm. The Birds are no longer chirping but just sitting glumly. The jagged mountains are icy and look like glass. And people skate peacefully and quietly. The squeaky sign hanging from its hinges disrupts the quiet. The trees are still and the snow is soft. The dogs are too cold and skinny for the weather. The footprints in the snow lead to so many places. The scraggly bush whispers in the wind. The wind against the bird’s wings goes WOOSHSHuwISJHH. The water falls splash the people that go by. Their scalps tighten and the goosebumps spread across their face.
TO HIGHER BEINGS WHO RECEIVE THIS MESSAGE
Lyndon Grade 5
To higher beings who receive this message:
A rift has opened its maw, swallowing our lands. These false dreams of ours have dissipated. The wound is already too deep to heal. We must go before the sky traps us and our names turn to lament. An eerie clatter cries out, our grounds collide and a wail from the cataclysmic maw emanates like a lone wolf. The shine of valkyries is now evanescent in the light.
Perhaps, this is the fate of all and everything, even the horrors of the diminishing night.
Mayhaps, we should save these lands. But the remains swirl in the cauldron of The End.
As we leave these derelict lands, we aim for the stars before we end up trapped in a land beyond identification. Worlds more inviting lure us in, like an angler and the fish.
— The Messenger
Let us go, Brothers and Sisters.
Seojin
Grade 5
ENTRY #1
So I got this new diary which is what you’re reading right now. My name is Joe, and my friend Bob and I went to McDonalds the other day. We got a happy meal because happy meals are the best.
After we had our meal, we went to my house to play some video games. At my house, we checked what toy we got. I got a Spider-Man action figure. I was happy but Bob got this weird silver orb. When he twisted the orb, the orb flashed. When I opened my eyes, Bob wasn’t there.
I was in a grassland! I was trying to pinpoint where I was when I noticed the heart on the right side of my vision. It said Health: 100/100. As I stared at this, my mind went to video games. I was in a video game world! I decided to walk around to look for shelter and soon spotted a distant light.
ENTRY #2
I began walking toward the direction of the light, I realized that I didn’t know what was in there. So I approached cautiously. There was a castle with a sign outside that read Village. As I looked around the village, everything cost coins. I had no coins. My stomach began growling again.
Then, I did something which I was not proud of. I went into a restaurant, sneaked into the kitchen when no one was looking, and took a bagful of dino nuggies.
As I enjoyed my bag of dino nuggies, I looked carefully at the inhabitants of this castle. There were Goblins, Golems, Elves, and Humans. So I went and greeted a human like me. His name was John.
“Did you see someone called Bob before?” I asked John.
“No, who is Bob?” He replied.
I was disappointed. I asked him what happens around here and he explained that humans are known as The Tarnished, and we have to defeat monsters to gain strength and earn coins.
ENTRY #3
I spent the night in a hotel. John was kind enough to give me enough runes to spend a night. I only had 1000 runes left.
I needed a weapon if I was going to survive in this place. I walked around, looking for a weapon shop. I found one with the name Patch’s Fine Weapons. I walked in. There was a bald man who introduced himself as Patch.
“What do you have?” I asked him.
“Finger Seals, Glintstone Staffs, Dagger, Parrying Dagger, Rapier, Greatsword, Black Knife, and Grace Mimic,” he replied.
“What’s a Grace Mimic?” I asked in confusion.
“Grace Mimics are used just like the Sites of Grace. A Site of Grace is where you can rest up, heal, regain flasks, and level up using runes,” he explained.
“Can it be used as a weapon?” I asked him.
“Nope,” he said.
“What’s a Finger Seal and Glintstone Staff?” I asked again.
“A Finger Seal is used to cast enchantments. A Glintstone Staff is used to practice sorcery.” Patches sounded annoyed.
“There’s magic in this world?” I was shocked. Then I remembered this world was a video game. Of course.
“Are you gonna buy anything? If you aren’t, leave!” He was definitely angry.
“Okay, I’ll buy a Black Knife,” I told him.
“1000 runes!”
I handed over the runes and went to test out my new dagger. When I flicked it around, I was amazed. It made my body automatically jump, spin around, and the Black Knife spat fire blades of black flame. The name of this particular skill was Blade Of Death.
I needed more runes to survive so I decided to play the game.
I found some monsters that looked like zombies. They were called Wandering Nobles. After I eliminated many of them, I gained 2000 runes. Great! Now I could eat.
I ran the distance to the next McDonald’s.
Guess who I saw?
Bob!
TO BE CONTINUED.
Tanner
Grade 5
The
98th Month of Camp
Dear Minkers,
It has been sixty-seven days since I left. I have been speaking with Kings and Queens, Mayres, and Dukes for the freedom of minks. The Island of Water-7 has agreed to this. Same as Drum Island and SkyPiea.
While the rest of the kingdoms are still considering or have said no, still, I can see a world of minks and humans living together as equals in the future. Inequality is almost broken and minks can almost breathe freedom.
Soon, I will give the sign to begin the Freedom Movement and we shall all sing:
‘‘We must prevail until we are free. We can almost see the light of freedom and grace. We must stand until we are free and equal to all.”
THE ANCIENT MOON
Kenudi
Grade 5
Hi!
This is Lucy McGothall speaking.
My story on how I got here is a bit interesting. I was just at home resting. Then someone knocked on my door and left a weird box. I looked at it and asked myself a couple of questions:
Why are there cats on this?
How come it was so gray and boring with no pop of color?
Why is it here?
Who left it?
In class, we read a similar story where opening a box transported people to a new world. And so, I opened it. I did not think that it would actually happen though.
I hit the ground with a hard thud and managed to sit up. The ground was gray. The wind was as quick and cold as if a gust of
water was sprayed at me. The sky was as eerie as the ocean. Bright little rays of light glistened as much as they possibly could.
I caught sight of one of the pedestrians and they were the most beautiful people I had ever seen. Their hair was as flowy as the galaxy and pretty as peacocks. They wore red clocks with pins holding them together. They were wearing shoes that blended in with the gray ground, so it looked like they were floating.
I found somewhere to spend the night. It was a rather small building painted in pastel green.
“Hello! How may I help you?” a middle-aged woman with a ponytail asked.
“I need a place to stay for the night,” I answered.
“That will be forty pian.”
Uh oh! I shakily told her I had no money.
“You then need to learn how to do gymnastics then.”
What? I’m impatient and not very flexible. Why gymnastics?
“What if I can’t?” I questioned, hoping I could get out of this.
“There is nothing else you can do.” The lady said. Her eyes were now in thin slits. What kind of world was this?
“When do we start?”
“Right now,” she said cheerfully.
She made me change into a leotard. We did some warm-up drills and got to the hard part. I first attempted this trick where you kind of look like a table. I fell and couldn’t even do it. I tried again and again, but no luck. I got frustrated but the woman told me that learning takes a long time. She then told me that everyone makes progress at different speeds and my speed was okay. We continued for another thirty minutes and finally told me that I could get that room.
I went to the room and immediately fell into a deep slumber.
The next morning, I noticed a wall with glowing stars, and on my right, there was a billboard. I didn’t understand what was written on it. I decided to walk around. The air smelled like sand and the ocean water.
A cry suddenly rang out.
It was from a kid. She was wearing traditional clothes and looked elegant.
The kid noticed me and waved at me.
“Have you seen my mom?” she asked.
A bright light blinded me as I said, “Sure, I will help you.” That was a bit odd.
The kid smiled. “Can we get some ice cream?” she asked. “Sure! We will go there right now.”
We walked along the midnight road and paced into the city.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“My name is Beatrice. How about you?” she grinned as she answered.
“My name is Lucy.”
The ceiling of the ice cream shop was bright maroon. The floor was tiled, each tile being half gray and half cobalt.
“Hi! What would you like to order?” asked a worker.
“We both would like to order some caramel ice cream please,” replied Beatrice excitedly. We stood and waited for the ice cream.
When I held Beatrice’s hand, it was moist with sweat. Was she scared?
She gave me some money and told me to pay. I felt sad, but was glad that this little kid was here with me somehow helping me.
I felt lonely in this strange world.
We sat on a chair and licked our caramel ice cream.
“Have you been here before?” Beatrice asked me.
I lied. “Of course! Have you been here before?
She said she has been here quite a few times.
Her fingers laced mine as we walked out of the store happy that we found each other.
Will I ever see her again once I leave this place?
“The Moon ceremony is today,” she said, reading off a sign. I checked the clock on one of the clothes of the passersby. It was about to begin. It was a good place to start looking for Beatrice’s mum. So, we headed that way.
The event was as quiet as the dead of night.
“Are you nervous?” Beatrice whispered. Her face was painted with concern.
I shook my head and started scanning people’s faces. Suddenly, a lady stepped up on the stage and announced that the queen was coming. That’s new. They have a queen.
The queen stepped out. She was wearing a green dress and had light brown hair.
“Mom!” Beatrice screamed. The queen is her mom?
The queen turned and looked me dead in the eye. She was angry. I tried to swallow my fear.
She flew down and pursued me. I managed to run but got hit by a blast of magic. The pain was mild so I got up. This just infuriated the queen more. I dodged the magic like bullets and kept running.
Beatrice finally caught the queen’s attention and told her I was not evil. The queen calmed down and listened. She told her all
the things we did together and how I protected her. The queen apologized profusely. I learned that she was Queen Analia and had been the ruler of this land for quite some time. She invited me to stay at the castle as long as I liked since I took care of her daughter. No more gymnastic lessons! I sighed with relief. We left for Queen Analia’s castle and oh my word. It was humongous! She put me in a beautiful room. There were bits of sea shells along the walls and a mural on the ceiling. She let me be and I fell asleep. The bed was so comfy. I wonder what the next day would be like.
And how do I get back home?
FOLKLORE
Libby Grade 5
Inspired by “the folklore triangle” idea from Taylor Swift
section one: cardigan
The seconds turn to minutes. The minutes turn to hours. The hours turn to days. The days turn to weeks. The weeks turn to months. The months turn to years. But somehow, after all those years of love, and all those years of betrayal, I knew you’d come back to me.
letter one: the day you left the night you left me was like no other. the sun was setting, with pink and purple clouds surrounding it. i had planned on staying around that dock the whole night with you, talking and swimming. i had been sitting at the edge of the dock for twenty six minutes, waiting for you. then, i heard your car pull up. you rushed up to the dock and sat next to me. you over and over, and i kept shushing you, saying it was ok. then, when you stopped, i asked, “do you think we’ll break up?” a simple question, really, but you took so long to answer. “yeah. everyone breaks up, it’s just common knowledge.” you replied, like that didn’t hurt me. it went silent, and i snuggled up in my cardigan. you gave me that cream cardigan, with blue stars on the arms, for my twelfth birthday. “what did i say wrong?” you questioned, and i couldn’t bare that you couldn’t tell that you hurt me. the pain that you caused me to feel. i stopped, and realized i could tell you anything, because you are my best friend. but i didn’t. instead, i told you, “you didn’t do anything, it just kinda stung. that’s
all.” your worried face melted into a relaxed face, and then reached for my hand. you held it, and had a nervous look on your face. “what is it, james?”i grinned, thinking you would ask me to be your date to prom. but you just said, “i gotta go, betty. sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow.” then, you got up and left. i sat there, wondering. if only i knew where you were going.
letter two:
Section Two: August
All those “illicit affairs” were tiring. I loved you, with all my love in my body. I didn’t want to say anything though, because I knew you didn’t love me back. Those three months were like a dream, so wonderful and weird, but just like that, it’s all gone, forever. It hurt to sneak around behind buildings to see each other, to pick out the perfect perfume i knew you’d like, and all those lies you told that i believed. I wish i didn’t have hope for that love, because there was no love at all.
Letter One: Summer At Its Finest
I was sitting on my beach towel, trying to tan. the sun was hot, the feeling of it on my back made it hurt, but in a relaxing way. I sat up to get another angle for the sun to hit my body (and also because my neck hurt from reading like that), and then I saw you come up to me. James. That day you had sand in your chestnut hair. You were wearing swim shorts and looked like you had just gotten out of the water from the beach. “Hi, is your name August?” you asked, and I just looked at you with a smile, because I really didn’t know what to say.
“Umm, yeah. My name’s August, Augustine. Why, James?” I told you, and you grinned and held up a seashell necklace with nickname engraved. I had gotten it from my best friend who moved away a couple years ago. “Is this yours?” You added, and I responded with, “Yes. Thank you, James. That was very kind.” You looked shocked when I said that, like you remember what I said all those years ago.
I remember the day we first talked like it was yesterday. We met in fourth grade, when I had just joined your school. Whenever I saw you, I saw you with Betty. Betty had long brown hazelnut hair in two braids. Basically every girl in our grade had long brown hair, which
made me insecure about my bright blonde medium length hair.
One day, I wouldn’t stop touching my hair because I wanted to try and rub off all the blonde. You came over and sat next to me and said “You don’t need to hide your hair, because I think it’s beautiful.” I blushed immediately, and flopped my hair over my face. “How is this ‘beautiful’, James?” I huffed, and blew a piece of my hair, so it would go up, then down. You touched a piece of my hair, and put it in the palm of your hand.
“Look, see it’s natural bright color. Touch it and let it feel silk against your skin. Smell it and smell the fresh smell of candy apple, umm, conditioner, I’m guessing. Just admire it.” I had never heard someone describe me in such beautiful ways. All I said back was, “Thank you, James. That was very kind.” because that was all I could put into words. That whole month, you and Betty sat with me at lunch, and hung out with me at recess.
“Hey, August. Would you like to go to the coffee shop sometime?” You reluctantly asked, with a worried look on your face, but not trying to show it. “Yes, but I thought you were dating Betty?” I inquired, and felt bad saying the last part, even though I want to stick out for all girls. “Nope, we’re just childhood best friends. Also, thanks. When do you wanna go? Maybe we could go to the mall after?” You asked me, and I was astonished that you wanted to go on a date with me. Me. “Sure, maybe tomorrow?” I requested, and you nodded and said, “Dope! See ya Saturday!” You walked over to your car to get your towel, and waved before you left. That was the start of summer love.
Love, Augustine
UNTITLED
Cicely
Grade 5
In Kansas 1940, Kat Berry, her best friends Hazel and Ben, her older brother Alex, and her cat Mittens were playing tag.
Kat ran throughout a plain, flat field. It looked as if it was infinite. Her fluffy, light blue dress, which was no longer blue nor fluffy, got splattered with mud, but Kat didn’t care. She didn’t understand why her parents would treat her differently than her brothers. This is
what Kat was pondering that cloudy, bland afternoon when a hard push brought her back to reality.“Hey!” said Kat. It was her older brother, Alex. “Sorry,” he said with a smirk. But Kat didn’t reply.
Kat saw pitch black, then a bright, bright light. “Listen to me,” said a light soothing voice.
“Your world is going to be destroyed. You must save it.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are the chosen one. You are strong and curious, all the traits needed to kill the Glicher.”
“What is that? Who is that?”
“You will soon see.”
THE THREE DEEDS
Colby
Grade 5
I woke up and started to stare into the distance and thought to myself “I should get some food.” I went outside. It’s cold, I thought to myself. Cold, almost like there were spiders crawling up my arm, a shiver ran down my spine.
Hi I’m Jake and I live with my grandpa. My Grandpa was something called King’s Knight, a knight so powerful that he serves the king himself. My grandpa has been training me to fight for years so I can extract my revenge on the Three Deeds.
I was searching for food in the forest near the mountain I live on called the Great Finger. The Great Finger is a mountain that looks like a finger that ascended the clouds.
I found a bird soaring through the sky. “How majestic,” I thought to myself. “Too bad I’m going to eat it.”
“Grandpa!” I yelled. My Grandpa understood that there was food somewhere so he grabbed his sword and cut it down.
Later that night I saw a man standing in the air, nothing around him. He was just there. His armor was crimson red like the color of blood.
“Grandpa?” I said, “Yes child?” he asked. His voice was
deep. “There is a man outside?” I told him, confused. “Really child? Let me see, move aside.” As he looked outside the man seemed to disappear in thin air.
THE MAZE
Elliot Grade 5
Seems like you’ve been running for a while, it’s not over yet it never is, WAKE UP IT’S TIME TO BEGIN. The question you’re probably asking yourself is “where am I?” and “how did I get here?”
You’re surrounded by dark gray walls with vines covering the cracks of the walls. There is only one thing to do: FIND THE EXIT.
After walking through the maze for a while you trip on something, and it scares you almost half to death. It was just a rock though. After an hour or two you see something on the ground. It is food! You’re so happy you eat it right away. You devour it and it’s gone within a couple seconds. You walk forward a little bit then everything goes dark.
The darkness spreads all around you. You hear running and heavy breathing everywhere you step. You decide to hide in the darkest corner you can find and wait. A couple minutes later you hear large footsteps coming then you know only one thing ...THEY ARE COMING.
You run and run but they’re not stopping to get you. Making so much noise you think you might attract more attention. Feeling the walls as you sprint for a small hiding place and eventually you find and you hide. You hear the big footsteps run past you. You have survived the day of darkness.
Charles Grade 5
I was born in this cruel world as a half monster and half human. Because of this my family didn’t want me. I even got stabbed by a cursed knife but I survived. My parents, who are the queen and king, laughed at me when my dad stabbed me. The curse was that I would die when I was 60, but all curses come with blessings in this world, and the blessing was that I received super intelligence. Then my parents, brother, and sister tortured me until I had to go to preschool.
But preschool wasn’t better. The first day I got kicked out of class for no reason at all. I got zero food because my parents didn’t pack me lunch, and everybody bullied me. It was like that until I was five and it became even worse! On the first day of kindergarten we had sword class, and I trained in secret because the teacher wouldn’t let me train because he hates me. When class was over, someone flushed me down a toilet. I heard from the sewers that I’m banished from the kingdom.
I explored the sewers and found two sheaths and wooden swords. I climbed out of the sewers and got out of the kingdom before anyone noticed me. I decided to go to the demon castle because humans hate me so maybe demons won’t.
I made it into the forest of monsters, which is on the way to the demon castle. I encountered a bear monster, and I fought it. It was a gruesome battle, but I won, but I lost an arm so I replaced it with the bear’s arm. The arm was white, fuzzy, and had a lighter white stripe on it. I came across more monsters, but with my arm I easily took them out. I don’t trust the cold dry forest. I stumbled upon a dead boney dragon and made swords and armor with its bones and teeth.
I was still in the forest and saw a demon dog being attacked by a human. I killed the human and saved the dog. He’s a baby black fenrir, a legendary wolf-like creature with strong powers. I named him Blackfin. After a long and treacherous journey, I finally reached the castle of demons. It was a giant scary castle in the middle of the mountains. Luckily for me, the demon lord was looking for new recruits for his army.
I talk to the demon lord to see if I could join the demon nation, but there are no humans allowed. Thankfully, because I’m half monster, they decided to listen to me. I said “My name is Kirai.” I told the demon lord about my life in the kingdom and how much
I hate humans. I even told him I’m Half Skeleton. He said he didn’t know because of my armor. I told him all of that to try to convince him to let me join. He asked if I could take my armor off just to make sure I wasn’t lying before I joined. I took off my armor and he said, “You have a bear arm? The first demon had a bear arm; he was even able to fuse it with cursed energy.” He finally let me join the demon nation.
THESEUS
Dante
Grade 5
Hot and tired, Theseus woke up. Someone had dropped 8 drachmas in his shoe. Overjoyed–because he was poor–he went to a nearby slaughterhouse. He lived in Ancient Greece, a beautiful place with buildings everywhere, stunning paved roads, and people all around him. His thoughts were disrupted when he tripped on a rock. When he looked up he saw that he was already there. He looked around for something he could afford and finally decided on a small lamb, hoping he could get a fire going to cook it.
While walking back to his place on the street, he found some seeds on the ground and thought they would go nice with his lamb. Once he had a fire started, he roasted his lamb. Theseus had never particularly enjoyed lamb, he preferred pig and cow meat and despised fish. While he was thinking, he completely forgot about the seeds. When he went to bed, the seeds slipped out of his pocket and fell into a small crack in between the pavement.
Theseus awoke and saw a young man–maybe around his late 20’s, early 30’s–looking for something. Startled, he stood up and asked “Who are you?” His voice was surprisingly high pitched. The stranger looked up at him as if he was stupid “What are you talking about, I’m your Dad.” Theseus knew that this couldn’t be possible, not after what had happened. He remembered it so clearly. “Come on, help me look,” said his dad, clearly annoyed. “Look for what” asked Theseus. “My bracelet, dummy.” “Oh, that.” Theseus finally remembered. In the distance he could hear a faint whisper getting louder by the second. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!!” The voice was now screaming at full volume. After a while he couldn’t take it any more. His head throbbed from all the shouting. Finally, he woke up.
Theseus could feel the cool, rough, but smooth, leather
bracelet. Despair washed over him as he realized that his family was no longer with him. When he woke up, there were three palace guards kicking him in the stomach and yelling at him to wake up. Once he sat up, one of the guards kneeled down and asked him, “Is this your tree?” Theseus was confused. “What tree?” The guard, extremely angry, pointed at a tree right next to him. The guard then said, “Well even if it is not your tree, you have two days to chop it down,” and with that they left. Confused after the strange encounter, Theseus sat down next to the tree. Thinking to himself, how am I supposed to get rid of this tree? Well, you could start by making three wishes. Scared out of his mind, he remarked, “Who are you, and why are you in my head?!” What do you mean, I’m the tree. And with that Theseus passed out.
Theseus didn’t dream, he just floated in complete darkness. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t even blink. This was driving him insane; the complete silence was messing with his brain. Then after what felt like ages of silence, he heard a voice inside his head. Are you going to make a wish? I am going to give you your voice back, but only if you make a wish. Here are the rules. There are only two rules: you may not bring back the dead, and wherever you go I will be there. Theseus thought to himself that he can only escape this dimension if he makes a wish. Theseus found that he could now talk so he said, “My first wish is to be the richest man alive.” Good. Good, you made a wish. Do you want to make another wish or do you want to go back to the real world? Theseus decided that he would make one more wish “I wish to be the king of Greece.” That is a big demand, but I think I can make it happen.
Theseus snapped back into reality. At first nothing happened, but after a few hours of waiting, palace guards were chasing a man down the street. The man was dragging huge bags of something in a wagon. The guards were yelling something unintelligible at first, but as they got closer, Theseus could understand what they were saying. “He killed the king, he killed the king, he killed the king!!” Theseus froze, he wanted to be king, but not like this. However, his mind was already settled with the fact that what had happened, happened and there was nothing he could do to change it. Theseus waited by the side of the road with a piece of tile in his hand.
Once the guards caught up to him, instead of arresting him, they congratulated him, picked up the man’s body, took the bags and left. Confused for the second time that day, he looked at his hands and was horrified by what he saw. His hands were filthy, and they smelled foul. He went to a nearby lake and washed them
off. When he got back he noticed a flier saying that there were going to be elections in a week. Theseus–knowing that this is what the tree set up for him–decided that he would be part of the elections. Exhausted, Theseus went to bed after a very eventful day.
The rest of the week was uneventful; he had no dreams, he didn’t use his last wish, and no guards showed up because of the tree. After a boring week, the election finally arrived. The only candidates were him and a man named Eros. Eros was a skinny, old man, though he looked like a wise man. Theseus knew that the elections were rigged by the tree, but he still wished Eros good luck. “Luck, I don’t need luck, I have intelligence on my side,” replied Eros in a snarky manner. “Okay, sheesh, géros,” Theseus muttered under his breath. Obviously the old man had a temper.
The elections had started and Theseus was already nervous. Before Eros gave his speech, he took a wrong step and broke his spine. The man made freakish movements, squirming and crying in pain, terrifying screams escaped his mouth. Surprisingly, everybody just stood there and watched. After a while, Eros stilled. Theseus was later elected as king because the only other person running was dead. The chief guard said that he will begin as king a week from now. Theseus was carried away by the guards to the palace.
The palace was beautiful. There was fancy furniture everywhere. Theseus was outraged, all the people living on the streets, and yet the king lounging around, eating all kinds of fancy food. Theseus felt a hurdle of emotions, but the one that took over was pleasure. The anger that he was feeling at first was drowned out by the ultimate pleasure of power and privilege.
SAGE INTERNATIONAL
SCHOOL
OF MIDDLETON
Teaching-Writer Kerri Webster
WHERE I’M FROM
Hadley
Grade 6
I am from heat of 100 degrees where snakes slither and crows caw
I am from nonexistent winters where snow never falls in sheets
I am from Springs that bring bluebonnets and hours spent in the woods sunlight leaching through the thick leaves
I am from the highest limbs of the oak trees in summer the golden of Fall
I am from the wild that smells of earth
I am from the rough bark of climbed cedars scratched palms and the fantasies of bound paper
I am from cleaned offices and Big Red from the beading of bracelets to be worn.
I am from pain and sorrow, from death from locked doors and silent days, From swishes of a black dress and a name engraved in stone. I am from pumpkin pie never to be eaten again the sweet aroma turned sour.
I am the sting of bees and prick of cactus
I am from fig and blackberry, From hot days in the pool.
I am from stuffed animals, deer, leopard, zebra From hours of exploring, lost in the woods.
I am from a color changing chameleon buried in the field. I am from the golden grass, from the black catahoula now gone with the wind.
I am from the smell of sheep wool and horses’ coats, but all in all I am from the wild.
SADNESS
Ophelia
Grade 6
Sadness is a bug living inside my rug. Tiny it feels non-important. Small it hides in its pain. Overthinking as anxiety takes control.
WHERE AM I FROM?
Maggie Grade 6
Where am I from?
I’m from the blazing sun.
I’m from the land of spices.
I’m from an old language and its cultural delights.
I’m from a family of millions of inviting people.
I’m from red, white, and blue, orange and green, too.
I’m from a future, existing in thoughts, planned perfectly, to execute to a tee.
I’m from the pounding of the gavel, judiciary fights, unraveling mysteries. Forget where I’m from, we already know but to argue in that room, that’s where I want to go.
FEAR RULES THE FOREST
Marry-Anne
Grade 6
Fear is like a wolf, its howling chilling the bones of ones that are near.
His fur black as the night, and eyes a flash of amber in the darkness.
The forest eerie and deep, like the trenches in the ocean. It is quiet, not a sound can be heard.
The wolf lingers in the dark, waiting, wanting prey to come about.
He pounces for a small rabbit instantly killing it when he lands. He clasps the prey in his jaws and runs away, leaving footprints behind.
The wolf runs to his den, a small cave in a mountainside. He lays down on some moss on the floor of his den, and eats his prey, ripping it apart, chewing on the bones when he’s finished.
The cold breeze tickles the spines of others–they wonder when they will die.
The wolf sits in his den, staring out in the forest. His amber eyes glowing in the night.
The wolf’s anger is like sand in an hourglass, ticking until unleashed…
IN THE LABYRINTH
Jude Grade 6
In the labyrinth sewing strings deciding fates starting lives seeing Icarus watching him go closer and closer to the sun melting his way out of the labyrinth sewing his fate from the power of mangoes as the minotaur rages on as the birds tweet with a storm raging on contraptions whirling thunder pounding Zeus’ strength getting better by the second rain falls thunder crackles Icarus falling to the sea with only the water to stop him soon to be forgotten as no one sets an eye to his splash down on the sea to be forgotten by all who ever saw him.
VALLEY VIEW ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Hannah Phillips
JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT
Katie
Grade 4
Just after midnight, I watch the moon grow in size. I close the window and begin to walk, remember to be silent and not talk.
I watch the moon grow in size, the crisp breeze kissing my cheeks, remember to be silent and not talk, my footsteps becoming softer as I go.
The crisp breeze kissing my cheeks, the leaves fall in my hair, my footsteps becoming softer as I go. I close my eyes to hear all the sounds.
The leaves fall in my hair. I close the window and begin to walk. I close my eyes to hear all the sounds just after midnight.
LIL LIFE
Ben
Grade 3
I remember a cat walking past me while I was in my mom’s bed eight years ago.
I didn’t understand how to get to the moon or space.
I remember my friend, Vance, and how we were doing circles on our bikes, so I told him to go faster, but he fell on his side and had to get stitches on his leg, and I still feel like it’s my fault.
I have an umbrella hat that I got from the Space Needle gift shop in Seattle.
I used to have a goal to get 125 Hot Wheels cars, but after a few
years I only got 112, so I just gave up. I found some more at the store, but I still didn’t have enough cars.
I used to love car games, and all my life I wanted a Fast and Furious game, but I never had enough money when I was interested.
I once went to the mystery spot in California with gravity-defying physics, like a ball going uphill.
I remember pepperoni pizza with spices because at the time it made my mouth burn.
A random fact is that tortoises swim faster in water than on land. A few years ago, I thought that swimming tortoises were slow.
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is a Santa Cruz sunset where the sky reflects off the water.
DOUBLE U
Emily
Grade 4
W is the flower petals in my garden with all the bumble bees with wings shaped like a W.
W is the gills of my little fish, Hush, and of the axolotl I saw at the pet store with my dad and mom when we were getting flowers.
W is the collar of my dad’s suit he wore to his wedding, which brought joy to my mom’s life.
W is the tips of my heart box full of truffles for my mom on Mother’s Day when I was three.
W is what symbolizes the joy in me which makes me, me—my heart!
Grade 4
H Iris
Grade 4
H is my bunk bed where I read to my little sister Frances as she snuggles into her cozy blanket and I sit beside her.
H is the seed of a flower that blooms into the beautiful name of the closest cousin and friend I’ve ever had.
H is the ladder that leads to the top level of the playhouse in my backyard where there are beautiful views of the world all around me.
H is the shelves piled with books, piled with books, waiting to be read and some that have been read, and read, and loved, and loved.
H is the pages of a book blooming with stories to be read and tales to be heard, pages bursting with joy, sadness, and adventure.
I REMEMBER Charlotte Grade 4
I remember when I was about one or two years old. I was in the playroom of my grandma’s house, and I was crawling quite quickly and diagonally towards the “Train Box.”
I remember, when I was quite young, I was playing a fake Minecraft game called DinoCraft, and I asked my brother how to craft obsidian. I thought you could craft it, but I was taught I couldn’t.
I remember when I was younger my brother Leo taught me how to pronounce his name. We had long classes every day, until I said Leo and not Weo.
I remember receiving fossilized dinosaur scat from my grandparents who just got back from Utah.
I remember I used to stay outside with my brother for hours playing fantasy games, but I called them “dragons and magic” games.
I remember I used to adore a book series called Kitty. It was about a small girl with a superhero mom, and the young girl would rescue cats and fight crime in the middle of the night. I only got to Book Two though.
I remember going to California for my uncle’s wedding. I was the flower girl. My cousin, Thatcher, taught me how to throw the flowers without anxiety. He explained it was similar to throwing gravy on mashed potatoes.
I remember putting Country Time lemonade powder on watermelons.
I remember learning that corgi dogs have buoyant butts and have such short legs that they can’t swim, so they use their butts to float.
I remember being in McCall morel hunting with my family, but I was mainly with my dad. I saw a beautiful cliffside and a large pine forest. I also got my mom a mossy stick, which she wanted.
HIDDEN SPRINGS ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Hannah Phillips
DRAGON LEGENDS
Carter Grade 4
Sparkyspine was a small light blue dragon that had spikes sticking up from his head and spines down his tail. Sparkyspine really loved to fly, and his friends would call him Sparky. He lived in a bright big cave on a lush green island. He would go down to the ocean beach every early morning to fish. Sparkyspine would stick his tail in the water and use the spines on it to shoot out at fish. After breakfast, he would fly around on a morning ride around the outer islands surrounding his cave. Then he’d go run around in the forest and play with his friend, Stalker. Stalker was a big goldish dragon who lured in his prey with sound. After Sparky played with his friend, he would hunt a chicken for lunch. By the end of the day, he would patrol for hunters who hunted his kind. After patrol, Sparky would block the entrance to his cave with foliage and fall asleep.
One morning, Sparky went down to the ocean to fish and then went on his morning flight. When he got back from a run around the island on the beach, he went to go get some fresh water from the stream near his cave. When he got to where the stream was supposed to be, Sparky found that there was no water flowing. So he went to Stalker to ask for help. Stalker said he should go to the source. After Sparky talked to his friend, he went to the waterfall to find that it wasn’t flowing with water. Then Sparky flew to the top of the waterfall and found that the water was being blocked by a bunch of rocks! Sparky knew that he couldn’t move the rocks himself, so he went to one of his other friends, Boulder. Boulder was a really big dragon, bigger than Stalker. Boulder could roll up into a ball and crush everything! Sparky asked Boulder to try moving the rocks. Then, after all the rocks were moved, the water started flowing back down the stream, and all the animals could drink from it again. After the long day, Sparky could finally go to sleep.
The next morning, Sparky woke up to do his normal routine. Then Sparkyspine went down to the beach to play. But he found that there were people already there. They were dragon hunters who hunted his kind and others to make profit. As Sparky was observing from behind a rock, one of the hunters who looked like the leader pointed to his hiding place and said to get Sparky! Sparky flew up and shot his spines to protect himself and then flew away. But he managed to spot all his friends in cages!
As he flew back, the hunters gathered the cages and got on the ship to sail away. As soon as Sparky caught up to them, they
took cover in some fog. Sparky knew that he couldn’t catch up to them, so he flew back to the island. The next day, Sparkyspine woke up to a nightmare of his friends being cooked over a fire. Then he got up and started looking for the hunters’ ship over the ocean. As he was flying, Sparky discovered an island with cages and ships docked on the shore line. It was the hunters’ base, and there were archer towers lined up around the outpost. Sparky knew he couldn’t get in, so he dove into the water to find a cave leading into the island.
As he swam up into the cave, he saw a cavern crasher. A cavern crasher was a big lizard-like dragon with no wings. They liked to burrow under islands. Turned out the cavern crasher was doing the same thing Sparky was, trying to free his friends! Sparky and the cavern crasher went along the caves and found an exit. They came out to find a bunch of cages lined up. Then Sparkyspine spotted his friends, Stalker and Boulder!
He tried to free them, but he needed a key. He searched the tents around the island without being spotted by the guards. Finally, in one of the tents, Sparky found a shiny brass key. Once he got his friends free, he went to help the cavern crasher and all the other captured dragons. He and the cavern crasher used the key on all the cages and freed the dragons. Then they all, working together, blasted their way out of the island. Finally, Sparky and his friends flew back to their island to go to sleep knowing that another adventure awaited.
PARTY HAT
Josephine
Grade 4
In spite of her name, she prefers to keep things a secret. Like the time she said she was going to throw a big birthday bash, but ended up spending the time with her one best friend at her favorite coffee shop. Or when she said she “wanted” to go to the water park, but she brought her favorite book instead. Well, I’m sure you get the idea. Now, it’s time to know her enjoyments. She does not enjoy many things. Though people say sarcasm is her specialty. She hates when she has to express her feelings because keeping things to herself is something she finds amusing. Many people also find teasing her amusing as well, but she has had lots of practice giving them the silent treatment. “Every day is another day of everyone treating me like my life is a big joke,” she said when she was ten
years old. Party Hat is now thirteen, but not many people know that since it’s been five years since her last birthday party—that was a disaster. The one thing she likes to do that does not involve much color is charcoal art. “Every shade of gray is a different feeling,” she says, though people think it’s a bore to do anything she enjoys.
DREAM
Mae
Grade 4
This story starts at Dilin Boarding School where we meet Madeline Sharline. She is a twelve-year-old girl who works for the principal of Dilin. The boarding school is the richest boarding school in England. It has beautiful halls, and the dining hall chandelier is made up of real diamonds. The rooms where the students sleep are big, comfy rooms with velvet beds and chairs and big windows with the most beautiful drapes ever. There is also an upstairs in each room where the students can play board games and study. The classrooms look like rich ballrooms with chairs scattered all around the place and desks and bookshelves.
Even though most of the boarding school is rich and clean, the staff rooms are dirty and cramped. The beds feel like metal on your back, and the bathroom has a dripping faucet. All the students have mouth-watering food and drinks each day, but the staff has gross food that would probably make you throw up.
Madeline is an orphan who was found on the front steps of Dilin Boarding School. It has been eleven years since that day, and Madeline is treated like a prisoner in Alcatraz.
“CMON! GET READY MADELINE! TIME FOR YOUR JOBS AT THE KITCHEN!!!!” says the principal of Dilin.
“Coming!” I say as I scrabble out of my dirty, rusty bed. I run upstairs, through the secret door and into the kitchen. I try to find Miss Wilson, the cook, but she isn’t in the kitchen. “Where is Miss Wilson?” I ask.
“Oh, she got the day off because of the holiday,” says Jacob, my best friend who knows EVERYTHING!
“Oh, I guess that I will make breakfast myself.” Yuck, I think, as I eat my oatmeal for breakfast which looks like green mush.
RING!! RINGGG!! “C’mon time for jobs!” says the principal.
“Can I have a day off?” I ask, although I already know the answer.
“Ummmm, maybe…” says the principal. Wait, really? Did he just say that I might have a day off?! “But if you have a day off, you will—”
CRASH! BANG! SWIRL!
“What was that?” I’m horrified. SWIRL! SLURP! “AHHHH! I’M GOING DOWNNNN!” I say. “Oof! What? Where am I?”
“Oh, hello,” someone says in a high-pitched voice.
“Oh, did she scare you? Sorry! She didn’t mean to,” another person says in a deep voice.
“Wh-who a-r-are y-you?” I ask, trembling.
“Oh, I’m Froggy.”
“And I’m Peachy!”
“Why am I here?”
“Oh, you are here because, ummm, you kinda are an elf and fairy and princess—”
“WAIT! I’M A FAIRY AND ELF AND A PRINCESS?!”
“Y-yes, you are, and we have to get you out of here, so c’mon, let’s go!”
“Wait, do I have parents?”
Peachy and Froggy both look at each other, unsure how to answer. They already thought that I knew. “Umm not exactly…”
“What do you mean?”
“She means your parents are in the midnight forests.”
“What are the midnight forests?”
“They are forests where, if you go in, you never come out Some say that the enchantress lives there.”
“Who is the enchantress? Is she good?”
“The enchantress used to be the heir of the queen; she was very kind until her dad and brother died. Now, she is a rotten woman trying to take over the world.”
“Oh, so all humans are endangered!”
“No, there are no humans here unless you count elves and fairies.”
THUMP! THUMP!
“Uh-oh, we need to leave now! C’mon!”
“What is it?!”
“It’s the forest monster, and it smells my new perfume.”
“THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO JOKE AROUND!!!”
“But I’m not joking. It does, and it smells like peaches!”
“UH-OH!”
“Wait for me!” I’m panting so much, and I can barely breathe. I try to stop, but I can’t! Suddenly. Everything. Goes. Black. I wake up in a bed. It’s bright, and people are around me. Peachy asks
an animal that looks like a human with fur in a doctor’s uniform if I am okay. Then the doctor says that I’m not okay. I get up. And say that I’m fine. I try to walk, but then I fall on the bed. The doctor helps me back up in bed.
Three days later. I can finally walk without falling, and I’m finally able to see this world! “Oooh, can we go to a castle, or can we go get food? Can w—”
“NO!”
“Why…?”
“Because it’s too dangerous. We need to go to my house and hide.”
“Why?”
Suddenly, rubble happens underground, and a groundhog man comes up out of the ground. “‘ELLO!” he says, which sounds like a jolly song.
“Hello,” I say awkwardly.
“I ‘ear your go’in tah ‘ide.”
“Yes, we are. Why?”
“Because I know the perfect place tah ‘ide!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
THE ESCAPE
Téah
Grade 4
Chaela creeps down into the eerily quiet tunnels as rats scurry across the wet concrete and the echoes of the cars above her screech. Her heart is thumping, and an ominous feeling fills the tunnels as she quietly creeps. The tunnels are ankle-deep with murky black water. All Chaela has left is her mother’s maroon scarf. It’s soft, and there are diamonds encrusted in the fabric. She also has her cat named Ginger. Ginger has an orange coat with white strips that are as white as snow.
Chaela hears someone walking. All she can do is run. Her heart’s thumping louder and louder. Ginger’s neck gets caught in a piece of plastic, and she whimpers. Chaela runs as fast as she can go and quickly grabs Ginger and runs into nighttime, hoping to return to her hometown across the world. Her heart aches. She remembers when she was with her family. They were having a candlelit dinner with the fire crackling and the moon in the dark
sky. But now all she can think about is water in her shoes, greasy hair, and Ginger shivering from the cold wind.
Chaela is in a park with willow trees and duck ponds. She hears the howling of wolves as the sky gets darker. Someone very ominous walks up to her and grabs her by the neck. She starts to scream, hoping someone will hear her. She’s in a big, gray car with a long trunk and two seats in the front. Chaela doesn’t try screaming. Her voice is too weak. It burns. All she can do is hug Ginger so tightly so she doesn’t get scared.
The van bumps up and down for hours. Until they stop and the person gets out of the car. This is Chaela’s time to escape. She tries budging the trunk doors until she kicks the doors so hard they break off. Chaela runs in the wind, so fast her ears and lips go numb. She hasn’t felt this much excitement since she and her grandpa went boating, her windy hair in the breeze. She hadn’t felt anything nicer.
The person is catching up with her, and she runs and hides behind a bush, hoping to not make a sound. SNAP!!! Ginger steps on a twig. Chaela starts to cry; she just wants to get back to her family. Then she starts to remember where she is. Chaela can hear the ocean waves crashing. She runs to the dock. And she sees her grandpa’s boat. She jumps into the boat, grabs the keys, and starts the engine. The boat bumps up and down into the crashing waves. And Chaela disappears into the darkness, seeking adventure and hoping to reunite with her loved ones.
APPLE BLOSSOM
Stella Grade 4
Apple Blossom is sixteen, rides horses, and spends her free days making pottery. When Apple Blossom was little, she had lung cancer. She spent her childhood days going away to hospitals for treatment. Apple Blossom has a big scar on her chest from her surgery. In her teenage years, she was cancer-free, but she still remembers the fear she had when she had cancer. But she doesn’t let that get in her way. She has friends who aren’t like her, but they love her. They love shopping and doing makeup, but Apple Blossom likes riding horses and doing pottery. She doesn’t go to public school. Her aunt taught her to read and write, because her parents died in a boating accident. She loves the fall. That’s when she really
gets to be herself! She lives on her farm just two minutes away from her friends and a neighborhood. She wears cowgirl boots with a hat and a braid and always has a smile. She lives in Beverly Hills, right next to the city. She lives right on the hill. Apple Blossom has a horse and bunny named Allie and Pink Tail. They are very sweet animals, but Pink Tail can have an attitude sometimes! The reason why Apple Blossom’s name is Apple Blossom is because apples are the color red, and red means love. Blossom means flowers. Apple Blossom is a tough, kind, caring girl, and she always will be.
WHITNEY ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Chris Mathers Jackson
I AM
Brett
Grade 3
I am like a sleeping panda in a bamboo forest I am also like a lazy sloth next to a raging river next to a jungle I am like a water bottle
Chilling
I AM Bellisima
Grade 3
My name is Bellisima Taimane Chelana Steele I am a fast shooting, powerful soccer ball going through the air. I am a professional soccer player in the future.
Everyone knows my name. I’m playing in the World Cup.
And one more thing to say: I would ask the world a question And the world says back to me, “Be yourself. Do not try to be who you are not.”
I AM Kellin
Grade 3
I am as bright as a light bulb
As strong as a rock I’m tired like sloth
I’m like the Earth’s core.
Leah Grade 3
My name is Leah.
Today I feel like a rainbow full of positivity, A princess living in a castle
In the calm, tiny town. Sometimes I am an annoying middle sis. Sometimes I am a cute begging sister. But I am always a positive girl. I ask the world, “where do I fit in?” And the answer is my dreams.
I AM
Dalilah
Grade 3
I am an awesome sister. I am a shooting star
Flying across outer space
Reaching for new ideas. I am beautiful like a sunflower With water drops on it.
I am a good student like Mrs. McCroskey.
I AM
Amani
Grade 3
I am a sunny boy
I am a hungry tiger. I am a tired lion. I am a ferocious dragon.
I am a cheetah that’s tired from running all day long I am a tired knight that fought a dragon. I am a tired kid that was at a party.
The end
Grade 3
My name is Aman. Today I feel like a cool dragon running fast in the sky. Sometimes I am a dragon. Sometimes I am a fox. I ask the world, “eh?” And the answer is be you.
I AM Kai
Grade 3
I am sweet to the core like an apple. I am a ball full of curiosity. I am a rubber bouncy ball, slamming against the wall, not caring because I am rubber. I am who I say I am. I am who I say I am.
MORLEY NELSON ELEMENTARY
Teaching-Writer Chris Mathers Jackson
ON THE BEACH
Vanessa Grade 6
It was a sunny day on the beach. People running around, swimming, playing. I hate that: people stepping all over me, throwing me around, putting water all over me. Winter time is no better. I get covered in snow and when it dries I’m still wet. There’s no escaping it. I dream about the day when I’m going to get washed up in the ocean. No more cold winters being stepped all over. No more people. But that hasn’t happened yet.
So more waiting, and waiting, and waiting . . .
ODE TO DIVING
Zoey Grade 6
I love diving
you get cold like ice but it’s beautiful
You see fish swimming by, boats making you bounce like a ball, and coral that is dark and bright.
Diving is a good experience it is like a time warp but with others. You get a dry mouth from the regulator, and weight from the tank. Diving is calm or soothing. I love diving.
WHERE I’M FROM
Abi
Grade 6
I am from the Caribbean
I am from smelling onions and garlic
I am from Home which is not home without family
I am from the calm beautiful ocean and the white sand
I am from hide and go seek
I am from open Bible on the coffee table
I am from family picture on the wall
I am from seafood and fried fish all the time
I am from grandmothers guessing the right genders for the baby.
I am from family get togethers
I Am Me
ACROSTIC
Mustafa
Grade 6
My head hurts as I wake up, I go back to sleep. I imagine I’m jumping off a diving board.
Under the water it feels as if I’m wandering, It’s really Scary.
Terrifying music playing, I notice I’ve been awake the entire time.
“Amazing!” I think to myself. I really should’ve woken up the first time.
“Food’s ready,” my mother yells. I brush my teeth
And go down. I’m relieved from all that stress I’ve felt in a minute’s time.
WHERE I’M FROM
Sam
Grade 6
I am from the Oregon Coast, running through waves I am from the salty breeze and the forest.
Where I’m from there is sand on our feet. Blackberries growing everywhere. I am from sea foam and salt water.
I am from Wildlife and FableHaven I am from the color Green in the trees I am from gloomy clouds and shady trees.
I am from the ocean and the taste of salt.
SOUTH BOISE JUNIOR HIGH
Teaching-Writer Daniel Stewart
THE MONSTER
Khami
Grade 7
As tall as Bigfoot, Creeping around the woods, Trying to be as gentle as baby, All the sudden a crack brakes the silence In the bright moon light, you look down To see that you’ve stepped on a twig, With your big feet. I have been her kind.
OCEAN POTION
Brooklyn Grade 9
Walking on the stormy beach the wind blows stinging sand Against my chilly bare feet
I taste the fresh and natural salt of the ocean
The feel of a raindrop dripping down my skin… from the dark sky
I look up to see seagulls fly
I can taste the fresh and natural salt
Like an ocean potion
While on the grumbling horizon I see a big cloud of elephant gray Surely more raindrops are swaying my way.
Oliver
Grade 8
A knight
A soldier
A warrior
A life
One by one they fall
Bloodshed, lies
Right before one man’s eyes
A life
A man
A husband
A guy
One by one they fall
Crying, weeping
Lives drop before my eyes
I see her as I fall
The pain gets worse
She cries, weeps
And I can’t wipe those tears away this time
The rain stops
The pain stops
Clouds surround
Heaven lifts
Hell departs
She is gone
Hopefully, I’ll see her soon
CANDY STORE
Max
Grade 8
I walk up to a canal. The bottom is muddy but very much drained. I jump down and encounter strange things such as a large back bone and a dead dog. I walk up to a drain and hear motion. I recoil back as a hobo lunges at me with a syringe. The hobo slips on the mud and lands on a rock. I take a second to process and breathe then I call the cops. The police arrive and confirm the man is dead, but upon further inspection we discover that the man is an active terrorist. As soon as the scene is cleaned up I walk over to the candy store.
ALL AT THE SAME TIME
Olivia
Grade 8
We’re all living at the same time. We’re hearing the same news and hearing the same gossip
All at the same time.
We have our happy moments and even our sad moments
All at the same time. You know the same cries and the same laughter
Just as your friends
Know your sorrows and joys. Everyone is always together/apart
All at the same time.
Grade 8
I put my hand on the cold brick wall, I felt the ridges moving as I walked. The orange light of the lighter in my other hand: flickering. Through the dark hall, I heard my loud footsteps on the metal floor. I could see glowing eyes appearing in the shadows then hiding when I got close
Eventually, I reached an intersection one way being red with exaggerated smiles with jagged teeth drawn onto the bricks the other being blue with strangely stretched blood-shot eyes.
I decided to go through the red hallway
As I walked through the red hallway I saw teeth cluttering the floor each tooth being from a different animal. While going through the red hallway I heard footsteps running faster than any human could run coming from the blue hallway each footstep sounded like it came from an extremely fast elephant and the footsteps were getting louder.
TRUST Shahad
Grade 8
Trust is key trust isn’t easy but it isn’t hard it can be broken in seconds and fixed in minutes it can be in a relationships between parents, friends or even anyone it’s good to have I don’t wear it as my hat nor my shirt I keep it in my heart and relieve it out my chest for someone to trust.
ROOTS
Eleanor Grade 9
The stack of pulled sunflowers their roots holding crumbs of dirt dirt from the earth they come from.
* I pick the goat heads out of my shoes am I the bad guy from dragging them below my feet or is it their fault for sticking
*
A handful of hair will not come out if it is pulled but a strand on its own will fall out with a stray breeze I wonder where it will land
THE SOCCER BALL
Gracie
Grade 8
Spends most of the day in the garage
When it becomes useful
The purpose Is it to be kicked
The life it knows
The only life it has ever had It being kicked
Whether it is back and forth
Or hitting a net It is being kicked
At the end of the day It is put back
Hopefully
If it gets lucky and is not forgotten on the grass
IGNORED Alexander Grade 9
Wish I’d heard my friend’s advice, so wise, “I don’t like you,” messaged in disguise. Ignored the warning, kept pushing through, Suddenly, they liked me—confusion grew. But happiness faded, a bittersweet tale, Parental barriers, love set to fail. I get it, their folks put limits on love, Yet, it stings, like I’m not enough. My push made them care, yet love’s in vain, Cut ties now, left with heartache and pain. No cheering up in this silence profound, Lost my friend’s voice, no solace around.
STAINS
Oliver Grade 8
The scars are like stains Permanently on my body every day trying to wash them off
I should have said something Why didn’t I say anything every time I see him my body shuts down like when it happened
when will I forget should I forget can I forget
INKY WORLD
Lillyana
Grade 9
In the blackness where Sharp edges meet smooth curves
Where
Flower fields face burning worlds
The place where I breathe my first worthy breath
The place where I will die a thousand times
My home
My safety
My mind
My inky black world
Where the blank spaces are mine to fill.
MY OLD SHOES
Austin Grade 7
Shiny smooth had a knick-knack for jokes
Almost brain dead but has many uses
I bought them cheap clean and sparkling but forgot about them now they’re dirty and broken they used to speak—now they can’t
I washed them and cared for them now they’re my best friends
CARDINAL ACADEMY
Teaching-Writer Guisela Penados-Baldizón
THE NEVER-ENDING ROAD
Amy Grade 12
I trail in my past, I follow the future, It trails forever on, I’ve never reached dawn, Holding mountains on My back, I move, And move fast, As shadows creep beyond, I begin to move along, Following my fears, Forever trapped in tears, Holding the grief They’ve left me to lead, Continuing the road With a never-ending load.
PUSHED AWAY
Christian Grade 12
I hate pushing away but that’s all I’ve done. I push and push. Till they are done. They leave, They go far, Far away never to be seen again, Not even for a day. Will they come back? That’s hard to say. But one day I hope to stop pushing away. Sometimes I wonder what if they stay. Would I be better off or left astray?
A HOME FOR WORD
Nicholas
Grade 11
Walking down an old sidewalk, Pieces of past lives in every house. All occupied, all used, their pasts forgotten, Their stories...gone... It is… sad… It is disappointing... No, no, words alone cannot hold enough meaning. You have to be the one to see their stories, Uncover the forgotten lives, and now, experience their future. Some words are dry, devoid of feeling, Just an imitation of a home, some houses are thrown together with no passion, Just an imitation of emotion.
I AM MYSELF, SELF IS ME
Beritha
Grade 9
It is all I can do, To me it is true.
I am myself; Self is me. I am not, what I am not and all that I am. I cannot be other than what I am. Bend me, twist me as you will, But I cannot be anything other than me. Accept or reject as you will. I am what I am and can be no different than I am.
A ROOM FULL OF LIGHT
Francisco
Grade 9
I can see a room full of light and sunshine. I can hear crashing waves hitting against large rocks along the ocean side.
I can smell the salty sea water. I can taste the sweetness of an ice cream cone that was handed to me. I can touch the warm sand that I’m lying on as the sun hits me just right.
MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL
Louella Grade 9
I get up out of bed and look in the mirror. Why am I so fat?
The mirror replies, “You’re beautiful.”
But why do I see myself so differently?
“It’s all in your head.”
Please change that shirt, looks horrible.
“But I love that shirt on you” the mirror says.
“You have the prettiest eyes” says the mirror.
“You have a wonderful style.”
“You are the most beautiful person I know.” Wow, now I see.
I am beautiful. I am loved.
My body is perfect. I am worthy of love. And I love myself.
LONELY LANDSCAPE
Emma Grade 12
Everything is bitter, Everything is tasteless, Everything is bland, My life is drowning, Can’t find a boat,
But it’s fine I will manage, I will swim, I will float, Beautiful decay,
Decorates like ash, Color has faded,
But vision will last, Call out a name,
I will hear something else,
Looking into a mirror of love and loss of myself, Everything is fine, Everything is grand,
This lonely landscape makes me want to go back.
CLOSED DOORS
Sara Grade 12
Closed doors
No one knows
No one hears
The wood creaks
Louder than a mouse squeaks
But silent
Because what is a mouse
But a rodent as I feel
As if I were the imposter
The monster
Like shattered glass
The smell of light ash
Yet still bittersweet
When the smoke clouds my eyes
Memories may be foggy but certain
Like me hiding the truth
Like a curtain
Hiding away the shame
The shame in which I go through
Like an art gallery walk however
Never able to break through
Like an animal in a zoo
I am trapped too
Behind closed doors
NO REASON
Victor Grade 11
You say I have no reason to be sad
But I bet I can think of a few,
My raging depression
And continued suppression
Diagnoses I didn’t ask for
Blood runs deep
Like the family that breaks me
Do I have to be happy
To convince you to love me?
The thoughts in my head
Singing songs in my ears like a choir
Help me
Help me
This deadly desire
Used by someone else
Abused by myself
If I could turn this off right now
I would but I just don’t know how
Hallways that don’t end
Stuck in my own head
Close my eyes and dream of a knife
Took me from my home and place
Might as well moved me to outer space
Something good came from it
But you took that too
What if we get married?
What if we have kids?
Would you want to be a part of it?
Why won’t you stop this?
All I hear is, are you Christian yet?
All I hear is, are you gonna eat all that?
Are you trying to bring my eating disorder back?
All I hear is, do you need that?
All I hear is, did you take your pills?
All I hear is, did you eat a meal?
All I hear is, are you happy now?
All I hear is, are you falling down?
All I hear is, you make me mad.
But I guess you’re right,
I have no reason to be sad.
EVERY REASON Emma
Grade 12
I have every reason to be happy.
But I can’t escape this pain.
My indignant body
Thinks I’m the enemy. Why can’t it leave me in peace?
Hopeful little girl
Now trapped in a cage
Universe locking her hurt into place?
A life she had never dreamed.
All I want is to go to sleep.
But these doctors can’t help me.
They say to stay positive.
As if I haven’t thought of it.
As if I haven’t thought of it.
Believe me!
Believe me!
I’m trying to fix this
To the person I thought I’d be
What is this for?
I don’t understand?
Nothing but theories.
Am I destined to be like this?
All I feel is a pounding ache.
All I feel is my splitting skull. All I feel is eternal exhaustion.
All I feel is how I’m getting old.
All I feel is my body shutting down.
All I feel is joy dropping her crown.
All I feel is laughter, A missed opportunity.
Please Remind me
I have every reason to be happy.
Kaiden
Grade 11
My silence in the middle of a crowd
My smile in the moon
My skin in the water
My hair in the sand
My eyes in a diamond
My heart ablaze
My mind in the clouds
But those are all a lie
I tell myself
My silence is so loud
To the point I feel shunned
My smile is painful
I am not alright
My skin bathed in blood and scars
I like the pain
My hair pulled and plucked
By my shaking hands
My eyes a door
Where I keep my fears hidden
My heart frozen by time
The past I won’t let go
My mind an echo
An empty shell that I wish I’d never been I will continue to break myself
So my demons will lose interest in me
Ashlee
Grade 11
I’m realizing that I’m getting older, that I’m not living a fairytale I thought I was, That there are more thoughts coming and going. Reality is kicking in either everyone wants money, sex or drugs and even fame.
Realizing why people commit, cut, or disappear not wanting to be found.
Why there is blood where I stand, shocked not knowing what to do. People attacking children and young girls and women, and no one seems to care.
Kids wanting to grow up way too fast, but instantly regret. Just hard to see where it starts but where does this end?
FRANK CHURCH HIGH SCHOOL
Teaching-Writer Daniel Stewart
I DON’T KNOW A LOT ABOUT LIFE
Dominyk
Grade 11
I don’t know a lot about life
The world
Sometimes I’m content with that fact
Other times I want to find the reason you and I
Look at life with heartache and strife
Life is beautiful
If you’re delt the right cards
Or close to it and at least something to help when you’re going through it
Life Is It
When life is hard you need more of it to be at peace
Or, you spend too much time thinking about life with strife
And you’ll end up in pieces
TIME WELL SPENT (YET I NEED TO REPENT)
Pink
Grade 11
I’ve fallen and I can’t get up
Need to find my mind it’s been traveling
Low enough that I can’t even feel Satan’s touch
Try to think but my mind’s unraveling
Don’t even know what’s happening
Memories explode through me and batter me
I should’ve been a better me
Love’s a slippery slope, yet heavenly
Surround myself with people to cope
I was hanging on a cliff and you were my rope
But you let go
And that’s all he wrote.
YOUR MALE GAZE
London
Grade 11
Curly hair and hip dips aren’t good enough for you. I’ll straighten my hair and restrict my eating just for your cruel eyes. Nothing is ever good enough for you. I am just an object. What’s my middle name? I hate your eyes, they scare me. I hate how you appreciate my youth. It makes me feel like a bad person. I hate your gaze, your male gaze.
I WANNA BE A COWBOY BABY
Emmanuel Grade 11
I wanna be a cowboy baby more specifically an outlaw my great-great family member was Billy the Kid I wanna walk in his footsteps I wanna make a name for myself as the most feared gunslinger on either side of Mississippi I want people to know my name not my face I want to live off the land drink moonshine and smoke cigars waiting for the opportunity to rob something I wanna say “reckon” and “yonder” or “by the likes of you” I wanna take a bath once a month pick up horse poop clean my guns and skin the animals I hunt I wanna pay my bounty with the money I robbed and go hunt other outlaws as a bounty hunter But, they lied, I can’t be whatever I want when I grow up.
PAST, PRESENT, DARKNESS
Noahlia
Grade 10
There were bars that separates the now and later, behind those bars is a black beast with antlers, but not a lot friendly. This beast had razors, sharper than a wolf’s teeth. Beaming red eyes that stare deep into the souls of others. This is a monstrous beast that had been caged for centuries waiting patiently to come out of that cage. One day it will eventually escape that cage and all will fall within its grasp of jaws and all will be lost.
DO
YOU
WANT TO HAVE A PRETTY GARDEN?
Naylonee
Grade 11
Like a flower my heart grows
Every day; as much as the sun? No, enough to blossom brighter than a rose, I’m the garden of Eden
I’ll grow bigger than the biggest there is Skyscraper? Nothing compared to how big I’ll grow God? nah I’m already so high up he’s an ant
Bigger than the galaxy, universes I shine brighter than the sun
On a million galaxies, I’m brightest star
Or the moon if you want to even No matter what I’ll be big, bright, and strong
And always around just long enough for you to tell me how pretty I am
SOUTHWEST IDAHO JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER
Teaching-Writer Aurora Mehlman
HOW TO GROW
Elijah
How to grow a question a few wonder
But one will never know
To live is to grow, it Takes time so don’t hold Your nose
Take your time, decisions Are hard, think some more
About the lemon tart you had
A seed in soil is a lot like
You water sun and time
Will make it bloom
You as the seed
As we age scars made new
And old ones fade much like a Tree, hard on the outside but peel
Off the bark, it’s soft inside
So to grow is to forgive but don’t forget Every mistake you made or every wrong
Someone has made, you are just a child
Much like the seed that needs Nurtured to see what you’ll be
WHAT COLOR DO I RELATE TO AND WHY?
Jesus
I feel like purple and I can relate because since I was a kid that has always been my favorite color. Everywhere you go you always see something purple as well, whether it’s a picture, food, car, etc. and something about me, I’m everywhere, and whenever you see something purple you always find it pretty, beautiful. I feel my personality, humor, loyalty, just the inside of me is something beautiful, and I can say that with a lot of confidence. So, I feel like I am purple forever, just walking around. I always try to bring joy to those around me. Even when I’m sad or mad the color purple lightens me up just because the illumination of it, especially the sunset! It is also my uncle who passed’s favorite color and my family’s favorite.
POETRY Emma
During the day the canyon dusk
Color shows in the rocks, dirt, and Mountains.
Yet during the night, twinkled pinks And the orange dust frill up the Sunset sky.
The summer view as far as the eye Can see and colors bright as the mind Can read.
Time for hope, joy, laughter, and fun. Time for night swims in the twinkled Pink, sunbathing near the mountains And dirt of canyon dusk.
Single fun and joined love, Two different times for different occasions. Though the same colors pop and bring New acquaintances.
WHEN THE DAY’S FALLEN SHORT
Mariah
I sink into my bed waiting for day to begin. I feel my skin beginning to curl And it feels as though my body is made of ash. I look up to see the sun’s become dull And out of reach, Hour after hour
The days become restless And the trees outside my window roll into a knot. The clouds in the sky have become dull, And feel so out of reach.
I wait for hours ‘till finally I see the early morn’ But the day still feels the same. The trees around me look restless And the moon has begun to sink.
A life is always around
But do we ever think
About how it works or why
I’ve found from your mom’s
Trashbin to your left ring finger
Hangnail it’s all alive
To have a good life is
To realize everything is alive
Don’t put in the world
What you don’t want to Come out.
If you know, you see
But only certain people feel
Open your eyes so you
Realize the pain in life
Is real everything
Exists but doesn’t at the Same time
Be known as unknown
Because we all exist for the Same reason no matter
The time
Or better, be happier
It affects everyone else
If you do bad like drinking turpentine
If you see the devil it’s
Only within yourself so do Good because there is a hell
Help others so you can help
Yourself
So lay back and think, “How can I help?”
HOT ROCKS
Ezequiel
Hot rocks burn like small Suns
The winds Blow slow time Goes by
THE GHOST
Remmington
Ghost: Boo!
Bob: Ahh!
Terra: Ahh!
Dog: Bark!
POEM
Madison
Our secret place Where we hung out Lock late late at Night I could never Forget the fence I Clung to. I just wish I could hold you And still be in Your sight
TEACHING-WRITER BIOGRAPHIES
Elizabeth Lester Barnes, MFA is a lecturer at Boise State University. Elizabeth’s academic work is focused on CommunityEngaged Learning, Design Thinking, and the power of story. She has published Academic articles and is the recipient of the Glenn Bach Literary Award for fiction. She worked on the editorial staff of the Idaho Review and has been published in Petroglyph and Writers in the Attic. She wrote a one-act play that was produced by Utah State University. She collaborated with Clay Artist Janimarie DeRose on Entwined an art/poetry show. She serves as the faculty advisor for Boise State’s creative writing club and loves meeting weekly with her writing group Sawtooth Alliance of Women Writers. When not entangled in academia, or traveling the world with her family, Elizabeth loves to be immersed in story.
Colleen Brennan is a freelance writer, editor, writing coach, and teacher with an MA in linguistics. Her stories appear in Writers in the Attic and A Year in Ink. A native Minnesotan, she has lived and worked in San Diego, Boulder, Paris, Bordeaux, and Boise. She is the recipient of a 2018 literary arts grant from the Alexa Rose Foundation.
Sonya Feibert (she/her) is a writer, comedian, and improvisor who’s tried out too many jokes on her dog (Chloe is unimpressed). She’s completed humor and sketch writing courses through NYU, Second City, Hoopla, St. Nell’s, Thurber House, and more. Her writing appears in the Writers in the Attic: Rupture, Dovetail Literary Magazine, The Belladonna Comedy, Slackjaw Humor, and more. In 2021, she was awarded an Alexa Rose Grant, and in 2022 received a grant from the Idaho Commission on the Arts. Learn more at yesandsome.com.
Meg Freitag is the author of the poetry collection Edith, and This Is a Book for People Who Love Dogs, an illustrated work of nonfiction. She’s a graduate of UT Austin’s Michener Center for Writers and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Originally from mid-coast Maine, she now lives in Boise, Idaho with her partner, Mark, and two perfect dogs.
Chris Mathers Jackson is a freelance writer and editor, an aspiring novelist, a teacher, a mom, an artist, and a lover of the natural world. Chris received her MA in English Literature from University of Montana in 2005. She taught English Composition at UM from 2003-2006, both during and following completion of her master’s (as a TA and then an adjunct instructor). She worked in the administration of Missoula International School from 2006-2010 before becoming a full-time freelance writer, editor, and graphic designer. After several years, she stopped doing design work professionally to focus on her growing family and her passion for the written word. In 2019 she established a book review website (LitReaderNotes.com). In addition to teaching, writing, and editing, Chris enjoys spending as much time outside as possible, adventuring both near and far, with her husband and two daughters.
Guisela Penados Baldizón is a writer of fiction, poetry, and prose. She has been working with young writers for more than fifteen years. A native of Guatemala, Guisela has lived in Boise for 35 years where she was a Top Ten Scholar at Boise State University and earned her M.A. in Literacy. She has been teaching since 1977. She has provided literacy and whole language Spanish workshops throughout the Northwest. One of her favorite projects has been to work with street children in Guatemala, showing them how to use literacy to find their voices.
Hannah Phillips is a writer originally from the Endless Mountains region of Pennsylvania. She has BAs in creative writing and English education, and she is an MFA candidate in fiction writing at BSU where she teaches undergraduate creative writing courses. Currently at work on her first novel, Hannah is also the show creator of the TV pilot,OUT, which is being produced through BSU’s Narrative TV Initiative and will premiere in the spring of 2024.
Hannah Rodabaugh holds an MA from Miami University and an MFA from Naropa University. She is the author of the fulllength collection Lost Cathedral (forthcoming, Cornerstone Press/ University of Wisconsin), and four chapbooks of poetry, including We Don’t Bury Our Dead When Our Dead Are Animals, a Pushcartnominated collection of ecological elegies. Her work is featured in The Indianapolis Review, Camas Magazine, Glassworks Magazine, and Berkeley Poetry Review. She is the recipient of a Literature Fellowship from the Idaho Commission on the Arts and has twice been an artist-in-residence for the National Park Service. She lives in Boise, Idaho where she teaches at Boise State University and The Cabin.
Daisy Clar Rosenstock is a third year poetry MFA student at Boise State University. When not reading or writing, she can be found daydreaming about abandoned houses or chatting with the local dying pine tree.
Daniel Stewart, a poet, is the author of the collection The Imaginary World, and a teaching-writer for The Cabin’s Writers in the Schools. A Pushcart Prize nominee, he won the Erskine J. Poetry Prize from Smartish Pace, and has published in BOAAT, Graviton Lit, NightBlock, Prairie Schooner, Puerto Del Sol, RATTLE, Sixfold, Skidrow Penthouse, Thrush Poetry Journal, Yes Poetry, and elsewhere.
Aurora Stone Mehlman is a fiction writer who calls Boise, Idaho, home. In 2023, she won second place in The Master’s Review Summer Short Story Awards for New Writers, published a short story in Oregon State’s lit mag 45th Parallel, and was a recipient of an Alexa Rose Foundation Artist Grant. In 2022, she received a Judge’s Pick in the Boise Weekly’s Fiction 101 Contest and in 2020, she won third place in the Glenn Balch Awards for Fiction. She teaches English at Boise State University and the College of Western Idaho, graduated with an MFA in fiction from Boise State University in 2021, is raising a daughter, and also works for The Cabin, where she helps kids in juvenile detention learn to express themselves by writing creatively.
Ayotola Tehingbola (b. ’93, Lagos) is a lawyer, photographer, writer & translator. She is an MFA candidate in the Creative Writing program at Boise State University, Idaho. Her writing has appeared/ is forthcoming in Witness, Passages North, Quarterly West, Hawai`i Pacific Review, etc., and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and the Best of the Net Anthology. She also received a 2022 & 2023 Glenn Bach Award for Fiction. Her work has been supported by various organizations such as Lagos International Poetry Festival, Hudson Valley Writers Center, GrubStreet Center for Creative Writing, Alexa Rose Foundation and the Idaho Commission on the Arts.
Kerri Webster is currently Writer in Residence for the state of Idaho. She is the author of four books of poetry: Lapis (Wesleyan University Press, 2022), The Trailhead (Wesleyan, 2018), Grand & Arsenal (University of Iowa, 2012), and We Do Not Eat Our Hearts Alone (University of Georgia, 2005). She has taught at Washington University in St. Louis, at Boise State, and as a Writer in the Schools for the Cabin. The recipient of honors including the Whiting Award, the Lucille Medwick Award, the Iowa Prize, the Lynda Hull Memorial Prize, an Alexa Rose Foundation grant, and three Literature Fellowships from the Idaho Commission on the Arts, Webster’s poems have appeared in journals including Poetry, The Boston Review, Denver Quarterly, The Los Angeles Review, Guernica, The Washington Square Review, The Kenyon Review, The Antioch Review, Poetry Northwest, and the Beloit Poetry Journal.
THE CABIN is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We’ve been creating human connections through words since 1996.
You can read, write, and learn with us at:
READINGS & CONVERSATIONS
An annual lecture series that brings internationally-acclaimed, provocative, and inspiring writers to Boise.
WRITERS IN THE SCHOOLS (WITS)
A program that places professional writers in classrooms with 3rd-12th grade students.
SUMMER WRITING CAMPS
Week-long literary adventures for young writers.
WRITING WORKSHOPS
Creative small-group classes led by published authors.
GHOSTS & PROJECTORS
A reading series that pairs emerging, innovative, and experimental writers with writers from our community.
WRITERS IN THE ATTIC (WITA)
An annual publication contest and event for local writers.
LITERARY ACTIVITIES
Book club meetings, readings by local authors, and other events that create conversation and community around literature.
The Cabin’s administrative offices are housed in a restored log cabin, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, on the banks of the Boise River in downtown Boise.
INDEX A
Abi 82
Adee 21
Alexander 92
Amani 76, 77
Amy 97
Anders 5
Anthony 9
Artur 29
Arvin 15
Ashlee 104
Austin 94
B
Bellisima 75
Ben 57
Benjamin 21
Beritha 98
Brandi 11
Breanna 31
Brett 75
Brooklyn 87
C
Calla 22
Carter 65
Charles 44
Charlotte 60
Christian 97
Cicely 41
Colby 42
D
Dalilah 76
Dante 45
David 16
Dominyk 107
Dove 33
E
Eleanor 91
Elijah 113
Elise 21
Elliot 43
Emily 58
Emma 99, 102 (Cardinal Academy)
Emma 114 (Southwest Idaho Juvenile Detention Center)
Emmanuel 108
Emme 5
Ezequiel 116
F
Francisco 98
G
Gabriel 32
Gentry 17
Giuseppe 5
Gracie 92
H
Hadley 51
I Iris 59
J
Jasper 25
Jesse 11
Jesus 113
Josephine 66
Jude 54
K
Kaden 90
Kai 77
Kaiden 103
Katie 57
Kellin 75
Kenudi 36
Khami 87
L
Lauren 25
Leah 76
Libbey 15
Libby 39
Lilah 9
Lillyana 93
London 108
Louella 99
Lyndon 33
M
Madison 116
Mae 67
Maggie 52
Maia 6
Mariah 114
Marry-Anne 53
Matteo 115
Max 89
Naylonee 109
Nicholas 98
Noahlia 109
O
Oliver 88, 93
Olivia 89
Ophelia 52
P
Pavan 15
Pink 107
R
Raphael 16
Reese 6
Remmington 116
S
Sam 83
Sara 100
Seojin 34
Shahad 91
Stella 70
SunRay 30
T
Tanner 36
Téah 69
Tommy 10
V
Vanessa 81
Victor 101
Y
Yalini 17
Z
Mustafa 83 N
Zoey 81
Cambia
Writers in the Schools 2024
The Cabin is a Boise, Idaho literary arts organization. We forge community through the voices of all readers, writers, and learners. The Writers in the Schools (WITS) program brings professional teaching-writers into Treasure Valley schools and juvenile detention centers to provide in-depth writing instruction and confidence-building feedback to local students.