St. Robert CHS Student News
Luana Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
I set the brick on top of the pile. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, exhaustion gnawing at me. I was so tired. My arms ached and my legs felt like they were collapsing. One more step and I was sure that I would fall to the ground.
Raha Rejali (12) | STAFF REPORTER
Looking around her now, she fully understood the concept of being a steward of the earth. Her bare feet rested against the soft grass blades that blew gently in the wind. She moved forward as her chiton danced across the breeze, the smell of fallen trees hitting her nose. Her sharp eyes followed the circling birds above her head, their chirps breaking the forest’s silence. She didn’t hesitate and continued to move forward. She had to fulfill her duty, by any means necessary. The sound of graceful hooves ranged behind her. She knew what it was and smiled to herself as it approached her side.
Vicky Shi (9) | Staff Reporter
Legend had it that the dolls crafted in Ray’s aunt’s workshop possessed a strange magic. They could either rescue you from your darkest moments or plunge your life into chaos. Ray was given one of these enigmatic figurines on her birthday, and it had sat silently on her desk, gathering dust.
Luana Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
There was an old, abandoned house on the outskirts of town. People used to say that it was filled with ghosts and restless spirits that would haunt you forever. However, it was more than a haunted house. In the backyard, there was a garden. It wasn’t just any garden; it was a memory garden.
Luana Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
“I don’t know what happened,” I said again.
“Are you sure? You didn’t see a man wearing all black and carrying a gun?”
Vicky Shi (9) | STAFF REPORTER
The platform was empty, saved for the soft whisper of the wind humming a song of forgotten memories. Haruka stood at the edge, each breath coming out like puffs of smoke. The air was frigidly cold and there was a soreness to her neck that she couldn’t seem to place the origin of.
Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER
She climbed up the hill alone. During her ascent, her eyes roamed in search of the white poppies. She plucked each one she found by its delicate sprig, as others flailed with the breeze around her. Once she had gathered a basket full of pearl-white flowers, she sat down under the flourishing cherry tree on top of the hill, from where the entire town with all its vibrancy was visible.
She settled under the shade and began to write, addressing her love, who was entangled in the chaos of the battlefield somewhere remote. She wrote of love, of the longing to cry in his arms. She rendered her heart in words, speaking of the town news, the apple pie that had filled the house with its scent that morning, and of spring.
Vicky Shi (9) | STAFF REPORTER
A bloodstained sunset glory,
A happy-ending story,
A pale white sky with a wispy cloud,
Elaine Chang (11) | STAFF REPORTER
“What is that?” Warren said, voice laced with incredulity. He was blinking hard against the eyepiece of a microscope.
Elizabeth Rossi (11) | STAFF REPORTER
Francis couldn’t remember the last time she’d lived; truly and most unapologetically lived. It didn’t feel real, her days more empirical than whole experiences themselves. One more day simmered beneath the scorch of her own hatred. One more night of deserving nothing short of the next day. Her good eye, hazel unlike the dulled grey of her left, tracked the alcohol’s curl within the small glass in her gloved hand. She never liked drinking; didn’t do much except hurt her head but the burn of it was grounding. The straw-haired girl pressed the rim to her lips chewed with cuts and the past’s brandings, downing the sharp liquid at a paced rate.