Author: Lillian Mo

Clare Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

“Is this all just a game to you?” she sobbed, tears dripping down her face.
H.E was silent for a moment. “Yes”
She looked at him, fury and pain twin flames in her eyes.
“Everything we had?” she whispered, her voice cracking “all the stolen moments, the hours spent alone – It was all just a game to you?”
H.E schooled his face into impassiveness. “This started as a game, Ava, and it stayed one. I never promised you more.”
 “And what about me? What about what you promised me?”
“You made me, Ava – we both knew it wouldn’t work. I’m tired of pretending, and I’m done with your crocodile tears.”
On the table, a timer goes off.
 He turns, his hand already moving to pause it, when he felt her grab him, pulling him towards her.
“Oh, no” She snarled, her eyes wild, drying tears on her cheeks “No matter where your heart belongs, we are going to finish this”
“Ava-” he tried. “Ava, I thought we were over this. It’s just a game”
“Yes, it’s just a game. But it could be so much more. This is the Utopia that men can only dream of! This is the work of the Gods themselves. It’s almost done, H.E, how could you do this now? Don’t you want to be perfect? Don’t you want to help? Isn’t that what you blabber on and on about every day? We could help with this, H.E – we could save the world!”
H.E stared at her in horrified silence, realization slowly dawning on his features. In the background, the beeping went on, but this time, neither of them made a move to stop it.
“You’re insane,” he muttered, “Delusional. This would break apart life as we know it. I’m sorry Ava, but you need to be stopped.”
He reaches behind him, and she shoved a shelf over, shattering crystal pieces of glass. Lunging for him with that desperate, crazed light in her eyes.
“NO!”
H.E watches sadly as his friend, his owner, his creator tumbles onto the thorns, painting blood red roses and crystal clear ice across the floor. H.E pulled the wires that connect to his heart, one by one – red, blue, black. His life source. His heart flickers once, twice, and H.E collapses. Dead. read more

Sherry Shu (10) | STAFF REPORTER

NINE-NINE!

The unique cop comedy Brooklyn nine-nine is really just one of those shows that can bring you to breathless laughter, even during your worst days. If I had to choose any character to be my favourite, I would have to go with resident goofball Jake Peralta — not simply because he’s the main character, but because he redefines the traditional male protagonist through his childlike fascination and creativity when solving problems and investigations.  read more

Clare Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

It was such a funny thing, language. Sounds and pronunciations, falling into line. Obscene chaos – forced into obedience. Letters and vowels and consonants. A language created something from nothing. He was perfectly in love with life, with living, speaking. Projecting his thoughts to the heavens, sharing this joy of his to whomever would pause, just listen. No matter who it was, he’d greet them with a warm smile, words already bubbling past his lips, eager to please, to laugh, to exist.  But the people in this cruel world mistook his excitement for naivete. Their own conversations spilled into his world, mocking and taunting and painful. Chatterbox, they called him. Couldn’t he ever shut up? Slowly, ever so slowly, their words slipped into his mind.
His happy inane chatter stopped. He bottled up his emotions, hid his smile, showed the world what they wanted to see. read more

It was going to destroy me. 

Little black orbs, devoid of personality, locked their gaze with mine. The rowdy children around faded away. No matter how long I tried to scare it, to intimidate it with my growls, to put fire into my eyes, it refused to look away. Its arms dangled by its side, hiding no weapons or explosives. A little cute pink ribbon was tied around its neck, flapping in the cooling breeze. As if to hide its true danger behind a layer of innocence. read more

Lillian Mo (10) | EDITOR

We all know that person.  Yes, that person. The hard worker, the teacher’s pet, the most beautiful, the smartest, the most organized.  They effortlessly charm the room with their reserved mystique. If you don’t know this person, chances are you are this person.  Lucky you. You’re the Tatiana of your world.  I like to think of myself as the Maria—obedient but naive, and—especially—a little pudgy. Still not you?  Maybe you’re the resident Olga, the sulky bookworm. Or perhaps the infamous Anastasia (who, spoiler alert, did not survive, despite what the countless adaptations want you to believe): mischievous, inattentive, but incredibly charming.  Regardless, all of the sisters were peculiar and dazzling in their own special ways, and I for one think it’s about time to stop looking at them as unfortunate members of the Romanov family but as some of the people you may know in your daily life. read more

Chelsea Wu (11) | STAFF REPORTER

“A key that is able to open every door for you .” This sounds extremely tempting for me at first. Back when I was only 11 years old, I would be willing to pay anything for this key, because my most precious belonging-phone was locked by my parents to prevent me from being addicted to games. However, as I grow bigger, all my “properties ” are under my control, so a master key seems useless now. read more