Category: Creative Writing

Elaine Chang (10) | Staff Reporter

TAROT READINGS & FORTUNE TELLINGS — 

$2/10 minutes

The sign stood, propped up on a potted plant, outside a tiny, four-post tent. As Molly read the hand-lettered, swirly font, she privately thought the material of the tent’s drapes looked just like her grandma’s carpet. Despite her skepticism, she counted her palmful of change: two dollars exactly. Between the overpriced ice cream and the bustling arcade, there wasn’t exactly anywhere else along the boardwalk to spend the money. I suppose there’s no reason not to. She surveyed the dense bead curtain, shrouding the figure inside from a proper view, and stepped through it.   read more

Alyssa Lai (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Coco placed the wooden sign announcing “Available to host any Bark-Be-Que Nights or Paw-some Pupcake Parties” on the front doors of her cafe, allowing it to sway gently as she opened up for the day. Inside, she flicked on the lights, entered the kitchen, and began preparing a variety of treats, including peanut butter pupcakes, coconut crunch bites, and sweet potato chews. After thirty minutes of baking, she arranged the delicious offerings on separate platters in the window display. Shortly after, her co-worker Winnie arrived, and together, they crafted the daily menu, organized dishes, and set up chairs. At 8:00 am, Coco flipped the open sign, ready to welcome in customers. read more

Mia Tamondong (10) l STAFF REPORTER

Heartbeats are a delicate thing. The steady tapping in one’s chest, the singular thing that said, I’m alive. Speeding up in times of fear, or love even. So to imagine it slowing, growing increasingly quiet to the point of silence, was unthinkable. That is, until you witness it.  read more

Mia Tamondong (10) l STAFF REPORTER

I’m awake. I glance around as if that would help, but all I’m met with is blank space. Nothingness. It’s dull. Everything is so dull. It’s cold here, wherever “here” is, and I begin to shiver. I try to make sense of it all, the grey, the chills, the sensation of being suspended in something I can’t see. Before I can understand my surroundings I’m falling.  read more

Alyssa Lai (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Nestled in the peaceful garden, where leaves whisper softly in the breeze and a nearby stream hums its gentle tune, my liquid moonlight scales gracefully glide through the crystal waters, yearning to be seen. I continue my swim in this endless pond, watching the sun glimmer on the water’s surface. In contemplation, I think to myself, “It’s almost time.” The sun’s rays are poised to melt away the frosty snow, signaling the arrival of the first day of this season, and I am ready for it. read more

Arya Dole (9) | STAFF REPORTER

She saw a bright light first, then everything went dark. 

The light came first, and after came rushing along all the other senses. A taste of metal and the smell of burning flesh entered her world. It lingered, refusing to leave. There was the shockwave – a thunderous boom, an earthquake rattling the earth, sweeping her off her feet. She always felt like she was flying when the bombs went off. Always wished she was a fairy, flying through the air because of magic, not because of a bomb.  Then, always, coming crashing down on rubble, crushing her daydream as she landed. read more

Elaine Chang (10) | STAFF REPORTER

“I’ll send someone to check on the work tomorrow but, just so y’know, for every seed we’ll take six months off your sentence.” read more

Alyssa Lai (9) | Staff Reporter

I tie my shoes and grab my duffel bag, gearing up for my gloomy newspaper job in the early hours of the morning. Stuffing the bag with newspapers meant for my neighbors, I can’t help but yawn from sheer exhaustion, questioning silently, “How did I end up here?”. With a sigh, I open my front door and hop onto my bicycle, the clock reading only 6:00 am. read more

Mia Tamondong (9) l STAFF REPORTER

The rain beats steadily on her skin, threatening to wear her away completely. The hunger in her stomach fades to a dull ache, the steadiness of the pain numbing her entirely. She grasps at her clothes, fighting the urge to rip off the cloth, the only remnants of a life no longer hers.  read more

Arya Dole (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I visited a city once when I was younger. The image of its streets still burdens me, and often I wonder what it is like now. Others older than me warned me not to go and told me that what I would see would weigh on my mind for my entire life. But I was still a kid, 20-something years old, seeking out the adventures in life. I didn’t know any better. It was supposedly a city transformed beyond recognition, shaped over time until it gave into darkness. The spectre of its past problems still haunted this metropolis. The drugs, homelessness, violence – all still there, but worse, as I later learned. When I recall the city now, I wonder how beautiful it used to be when it had a different face, with a different heartbeat. To think about the past seems ironically dystopian.  read more