Category: Creative Writing

Angelina Wang (11) | Staff Reporter

I never won, a single game or contest. But every time I’d find you in a crowd of victors, you’d always pat me on the back and tell me “You’ll get ‘em next time, kiddo” While looking away, because you have always been a terrible liar, and you can’t possibly hide the disappointment in your eyes. Years have passed and my defeats have only grown. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to recall the color of your eyes. Would I still be your “kiddo” if I couldn’t live up to your dreams, only to be devoured by your nightmares? If I could only ever brush my fingers along the clouds and never say hello to the sky above? What if who I am now is the peak of my glory? Would you still be proud of me? Please. Could you look me in the eye, and tell me you’re still proud? Could you tell me, truthfully, that it’s okay to fall under the weight of these expectations? That it’s okay to feel what I’m feeling, to feel like drowning when I’m on dry land? Because I don’t think I could handle a single second of this nightmarish reality if you weren’t right behind me, supporting me, believing in me. Who am I without your faith? Who am I without the blood, sweat and tears that you have put into my future? But your blood paralyses me. And your sweat burns me. And I am drowning in your tears. I’m sorry. You based your entire life on the future of a stranger. How did you know I could do it? How did you believe in someone you've never met? How could you be so sure that I could make it? That I could do all that you could, and so much more? Because I’m looking in the mirror. and I don't think I can. You sacrificed everything for me. So look at me. At my short list of accomplishments, my selfishness, my failures, and my fears. Tell me, Mom, Dad. Was I worth it? read more

Melinda Li (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I unscrew the lid of the jar. Inside, a small sphere-like ball, sitting still inside. I pick it up. Blue. It feels like a jawbreaker. I pop it into my mouth and the flavours start pouring out. It’s very minty, so much so my mouth feels like the Arctic. I inhale and the cold gush of minty wind enters my throat. read more

Welcome to the Game!

Take a look around yourself, and do not be afraid of where you are. Take the time to walk around, get accustomed to your body, and collect any items lying around. Avoid any unknown figures, as they can either be other players or spirits. Either way, encountering either probably will not end in your favour. read more

Victoria Qiu (9) | Staff Reporter

Lily fidgeted with the bouquet in her hand, rearranging the flowers until they lay in a perfect harmony of lavender and white roses. Setting it down gently, she wandered to the mirror and checked her dress one last time. Besides the lace front tangling, there was almost nothing to be fixed. Before long, she found herself in front of her best friend’s door. read more

Victoria Qiu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Have I ever told you about the train that takes you directly to your soulmate? read more

By Victoria Qiu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I’ve always loved the city.

Bustling roads with gleaming street lights, the comforting chaos of navigating the crowded streets. The vendors and their stalls, the little cafés and coffee shops, even the crosswalks littered with everyday items. A pack of tissues, some newspaper clippings, occasionally a hair tie or even a bracelet left on the path. read more

Annabelle Liu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

The moment I said the word to betray our gods, my heart splintered into fiery embers, heart scorched with some sensation I had never felt before. I took it as a sign of my impending doom. read more

Annabelle Liu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

The rustle of the paper are the leaves in the wind; flowing freely, before the gust abruptly halts. They flip to a stop, gazing at the sinking of the sun. All that is around me is nothing but tranquility at its finest form—the gentle rush of the waves filling my ears, the soft grains of sand warming my feet, the trills of the birds echoing through the sky.  read more

Victoria Qiu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I step off the train and sit down on a nearby bench, sighing. Glancing at my watch, I estimate around two hours before the next train comes to the station. Two hours of absolutely nothing to do and no one to talk to. read more

By Victoria Qiu (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Taylor flipped through her family’s albums at her desk. Pages and pages of photos depicting different parts of their lives chronologically ordered. She turned to the beginning of the book once again, eyes resting on her very first photos. Taylor’s first steps, First words! First time at the zoo. So many other pictures stared back at her unblinking, the ghost of her baby smile forever etched in time. So many memories captured on paper, so many capsules into the past. She wiped a stray tear away before turning the pages, watching her entire life unfold in front of her eyes. Photos of her as a toddler, the birth of her baby brother, and soon everything in her life fell into place. Every moment was documented in this album, every event, every smile. read more