Category: Creative Writing

Khushi Tyagi (9) | STAFF REPORTER

“I’ll do it later." me said.
The other me objected,"Why not now?"
Me 1 suggested,"After a minute maybe?"
"But why not NOW?!" repeated the second me.
Me 1 replied,"Cuz, we can do it later!"
"Let's just get it done."
"No can do."
"Kindly explain your logic to why."
"If we can do it after,
why do it now."
Me 2 sighed "You would be wasting the SAME amount of energy both times."
The first me frowned. "Where did energy come from in this".
"Energy is everywhere." Me 2 acknowledged.
"It's not in space." Me 1 teased
"YES IT IS! Just a different sort".
"Well, I have no energy to argue about this right now" Me 1 yawned.
Me 2 snickered, "I have more energy than you."
"Says who. I have all the energy of space in me."
"Wha- that's not. UGHH. The energy in space is infinite. SPACE ITSELF IS INFINITE!!" Yelled me 2.
"Says who?"
"Says me!!"
"Well, you says wrong."
"How so?" Questioned me 2.
"Cuz, it's not like you said spaces. You said space. So one space and hence not infinite"
Me 3: "Feel free to explain how you started on doing later to english grammar of countable and uncountable words?"
Me 1 and 2, "WHERE DID ENGLISH GRAMMAR COME FROM!?!?!" read more

Isabella Pan (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Music has been with us every step of our life; from lullabies and nursery rhymes to hard metal and mumble rap… it grows as we grow, evolves as society evolves. It’s the one universal language we all speak and understand… yet it’s really just a unique puzzle of blatant sound and noise. From polished productions to mindless subconscious humming to the sound of raindrops on the sidewalk- it’s all music! It follows us everywhere we go, from the rain to the rainbow. read more

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

Raymond Wang (9) | STAFF REPORTER

The poppy is the enduring symbol of the First World War. It is strongly connected to Armistice Day (November 11), the day where the Allies signed the peace treaty. Poppies were a common sight, especially on the Western Front, and that is what gave John McCrae the inspiration to write his poem, In Flanders Fields. Poppies are worn in Canada to commemorate the soldiers throughout our country’s history who have given their lives in fighting for our country. Every year on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, our nation pauses in a moment of silence to honour and remember the men and women who have served, and continue to serve Canada during times of war, peace, and conflict. read more

Arthur Ng (11) | STAFF REPORTER

There it is the change in the air,

Slowly shifting from cool to cold,

Grass withering, leaves falling, read more

Rachel Yan (9) | STAFF REPORTER

“I know it takes some getting used to,” It’d said solemnly. “You can take a look around and check them out.” It had dropped a key into Bill’s hand and left.  read more

Arthur Ng (11) | STAFF REPORTER

Bangs and shouts filled the air,

The skies were grey and dark

As death loomed overhead, read more