The Empty Page

Oola-Breen Ryan Grade 6

The girl was taking part in a staring contest with her piece of paper.

Just come up with something, she thought. Come on. It’s not hard.

But she couldn’t. She thought and thought, but her brain was completely blank—much like the faded lined paper sitting solemnly on her desk. The submissions closed in two days, and she was desperate to submit something, anything. She didn’t care if, by the time she was done writing, the only thing to show for it was an un-edited limerick about potatoes. She would still submit it. But if her mind was usually an inkwell, today it was an empty glass, flled with nothing but air. The girl grit her teeth and pressed her pencil so hard against the paper, the tip broke of. She would fnd inspiration. She would write an amazing story that would blow the editors away.

But what, exactly, would that story be?

An hour later, the girl had succeeded in solving the Rubik’s cube on her desk. Her pencils were lined up in order of their size, each sharpened to a thin point. The bowl of chocolate chips that she had brought in as a snack had been reflled twice and, at this point, was only a memory. But her page remained empty. Her mind hurt from all of the not-thinking. And, slowly, she began to cry. The paper became wet with tears. The girl sobbed, not quite sure why she was crying. Was it frustration, slowly building up in her? Did she accidentally and unknowingly stab herself with the sharp pencils?

The girl cried until she thought she couldn’t cry any more. She felt dizzy and disconnected from her body. She collapsed on her desk, feeling hopeless.

But then the ideas began to trickle in. Slowly, at frst. They dripped in like molasses, slow and steady. Soon they began to speed up, entering at a brisk pace, then jumping, leaping, spinning around her mind. They came in like a food, as fast and emotional as her tears. She rushed to jot them down, but they were too fast. They removed any doubt she’d had about her skills as a writer. Soon, her page was flled with scribbled notes. She took it all in.

Then she smiled, took a fresh piece of paper, and, after hours of doing absolutely nothing, started to write.

Alegria Rojas

Rainbow Bridge

Digital photograph

Grade 6

Alegria Rojas

The Wind Blows Free

Digital photograph

Grade 6