Category: Creative Writing

Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Hiding under the desk, wondering how I ended up here, I’m so tall I must slide into a position with my chin touching my chest. Looking up, I see the fuzzy bottoms of my drawers gnawing upon me, and those strange metal rods that seem to make drawers work and whirr. read more

Raha Rejali (12) | STAFF REPORTER

I sat in the chairs, denying every man who asked me for a dance. There was just no way I was going to give my mother the satisfaction of smirking at me and insinuating that I would one day marry whoever it was that I would dance with. I drank my sparkling champagne, and I could feel almost every man’s eyes on me. Did I happen to mention that I was an heiress? Yes, to a hotel chain. Our last name was known worldwide, and everyone decided that they wanted to put a ring on my finger from the minute I stepped into the room.  read more

Elaine Chang (10) | Staff Reporter

Anticipation like nothing else runs prickles along your body, your pulse battering against your skin, trying to escape its confines. read more

Elizabeth Rossi (11) | STAFF REPORTER

The hallucinations were the same as always. The same three-eyed felines and one too many winged birds slinking between the branches outside her window, singing away. Pollen and dust clouded the creases of her walls and furniture in a hydrodip smog. Her hands wove around the stem of one of the cocooned buds, too young to flower. The plant couldn’t help its innate hunger to spread, seemingly starved and equally as determined to leave no surface within the basement untouched.   read more

Luana Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

There was an old hag sitting in front of my father’s bookstore. She was, as far as I could tell, extremely stubborn. She claimed that she could tell the future just by tasting someone’s blood. My father wanted her gone, of course, but there was no use in persuading her. She made quite a bit of money by sitting outside the bookstore.  read more

Vicky Shi (9) | Staff Reporter

Auntie glared at me from across the table. She’s always glaring at me, the way you would scrutinize a cockroach, so full of disgust and loathing.  read more

Raha Rejali (12) | STAFF REPORTER

My toes dip into the water, the algid feeling ripping through my skin and into my bones, a warning that whispers to me to stay away. However, the warmth of the betrayal burning through my body is enough to make me ignore it, to lay in the stream that leads to death’s door. read more

Vicky Shi (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I’ll never forget his devilish grin, the rouge stained on his pale cheeks like the Joker, and that sing-song voice that could bring an avalanche down from the mountains. Not even in death will that image fade from my mind—how could it? It was the last thing I saw before falling asleep and the first to creep back into my sight with the dawning light. It consumed my every thought, becoming my entire world. It was my beginning and my end, the only thing I lived for. It was… read more

It doesn’t bother me, the notion of being another little person with another little name.

No documents or history, or star-stricken revelations to praise for times indefinite. Instead, only a half scratched out name on a few sticky notes and receipts. read more

Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I sat on my chair scouring through my mind, feeling very sedentary, searching for an excuse for the anger I carried everywhere with me. As the heart meandered through the mind–or perhaps it was the other way around, I’m not sure–I heard the first drops of rain hitting the ground. The gentle thrumming turned into a cloudburst at once. I struggled to rise from my chair, pull back the thick shut curtains, and watch the night getting more blurry and vague each second. I was pushed back on the chair in awe of the delicate music being played outside. read more