Category: Creative Writing

Emily Yang (11)  | STAFF REPORTER

Oh, if I could run away and live among the trees and the deer.  read more

Dane Recaido (11) | STAFF REPORTER

The stage was set.

Dancers were rehearsing while the backstage crew mounted props onto the cold brick walls. The floor was swept in wisps of glitter-encrusted cotton that was used to resemble the twinkling snow under a clear night sky. Painted wood was used to assemble the undaunting castle that settled directly centre of the stage.  read more

Ahou Naderpour Ardestani (11) | STAFF REPORTER

There was a time when trees would grow one of two ways. Some were planted by humans and grew under strong, kind hands, giving them water when there was no rain and getting them all kinds of nutritious soils and fertilizers. Their days were filled with chirping chickens, chatty sheep, and farmers’ songs, and that’s how they learned to talk. Others were born in the wild, breathed in that forest morning on their first day, then had critters dangling from their branches and bugs and larvae crawling up and into them soon as they were thick as a wrist. They were home to the birds, bugs, and beasts and learned their language.  read more

Angie Yan (9) | STAFF REPORTER

Somewhere in the countryside, a ribbon of cobblestone trail lead into a wide clearing up ahead. read more

Rachel Yan (11) | STAFF REPORTER

I close my textbook and stand up. Discreetly grab the edge of the desk as I nearly lose my balance. read more

Dane Recaido (11) | STAFF REPORTER

My eyes slowly peeled open as the piercing rays of the sun shone through the draped curtains of my room. Sleep weighed heavily on my eyelids and my fatigued body refused to budge. Yet the loud chirping from outside is what pulled me from my slumber.  read more

Ahou Naderpour Ardestani (11) STAFF REPORTER

When I get to Liza’s house, Eli’s mom is already there, with Eli and Liza in the car. I open the door and shuffle in awkwardly, holding on to my bag, jacket, and Eli’s gift, while pushing away the giant sac on the seat to make room for myself.  read more

Emily Yang (11) | STAFF REPORTER

I don’t know how I got here. Placed on this specific seat. There is this strange fatefulness about this, as if it’s been carefully set and picked out for me, all of it. Looking around, I notice the endless blue sky, white clouds floating peacefully. The track ahead is white metal. I’m sitting in a singular car, the seat lined with red leather. The seatbelt fastened around me has no buckle. No one around, nothing behind me. No way out. read more

Clare Wu (11) | STAFF REPORTER

In 1710, a question was proposed: if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? It is 2021, now. She thinks about that question a lot. read more

Annabelle Wong Hin Sang (9) | STAFF REPORTER

The station was eerily quiet.

X glanced towards the conductor, who slept soundly in the ticket booth. Pushing past the turnstiles, he looked around warily at the empty space of the subway station, not a single person in sight. X headed towards an escalator, the sound of ceiling pipes shifting around echoed as he passed by. Somewhere, there was the sound of water as it slowly dripped, making a sound as it hit the station floor. He hurried to the escalator, shoes tapping against the metal stairs as he made his way down. read more