by
Emma Delaney
Published February 2, 2016
The day of the eighth-grade picnic is beautiful and flawless, the sky a velvet blanket of blue. My mom drops me off in front of the school. A cheerful and colorful Goodbye Eighth Graders! banner...
by
Rie Maeda
Published February 2, 2016
“Dad," I whined, stomping the sole of my new black riding boots into the hard pavement of the driveway, feeling my heel grinding into the small pebbles. "Can we go to the stable yet?" I...
by
Emina S. Sonnad
Published February 2, 2016
It was one of those winter days that seemed much more like spring. There had been a storm yesterday but the only trace of it now was the slightly dark mist suspended in the vast...
by
Emily Waxman
Published February 2, 2016
I twirl around and around in front of my mirror. I quickly smooth out the crinkles beginning to form on the beautiful silk dress. Glancing at my face I notice a stray hair and quickly...
by
Annakai Hayakawa Geshlider
Published February 2, 2016
The floor creaked as Simon crept through his grandparents' attic towards a large chest in the corner of the room that had caught his eye. In the dusty attic, cobwebs hung from the shelves and...
by
Casey Tolan
Published February 2, 2016
Harsh, cold wind rippled across the snow that blanketed the farm's fields. Sighing, Sam led the shivering sheep across the wide plain. Cauliflower, the farm's sheepdog, ran with Sam, keeping the milk-white sheep in...
by
Emma Dudley
Published February 1, 2016
When Alicia awoke she first thought she was in heaven. Indeed, everything around her was white: the sheets, the curtains, the furnishings. She sat up in bed and instantly felt a shot of pain course...
by
Jonathan Morris
Published February 1, 2016
Orion padded along through the dense undergrowth, his leather-coated feet silent as death's cruel hand as they compressed the damp soil. His mother, Selena's, words, clear and simple as a raindrop, echoed through his head,...
by
Bailey Bergmann
Published February 1, 2016
Nobody knew why we kept him. To tell the truth, I didn't exactly know, either. We named him Badger for the brown-gold stripe that ran down his muzzle, and later on, we would say that...
by
William Gwaltney
Published February 1, 2016
It’s a hot, dry August evening on the Oklahoma panhandle. The sun is going down and the crickets have begun to sing. There's no breeze at all tonight, nothing to ease the blistering heat. I...
