by Harry Qin '20
Jacob wakes up on his bed, noticing that the alarm didn't go off. He jumps out of bed and rushes out after washing himself. He complains about the alarm, which he doesn’t notice that it doesn’t anymore. Trying to open the door, he realizes that the door is abnormally heavy. As soon as the door is opened, Jacob is stunned. In front of him, instead of the crowd lining aside of the road waiting for the bus, two soldiers wearing power armor stand on the two sides of a man in classic military officer uniform.
“Jacob Reyes, you have been convicted of secretly communicating with the leader of the resistance and selling top-secret intel to the resistance. You are now under arrest by the Crown Guard of the Empire.”
by Brooke de Guzman '19
“See anyone up ahead?” I asked my First Class Private as we were approaching our destination.
“No sir!” he yelled back at me.
The never-ending desert stretched out for miles. My comrades and I were ordered to scope out this area to what looked like an abandoned village by the enemy. Apparently, there had been civilians who were shot and left to die. Our mission was to help out as many people as we could and to aid them with medication, food, and water. In the military issued Jeep, we were in, we made our way closer to the mediocre area.
by Lumeng Sun '19
It was in 2015. I went to Butterfly Spring, Yunnan Province, China. I had been fascinated by the love story between Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai since my childhood, so I felt a special feeling for butterflies. Sometimes, I think I could talk to butterflies, and I vaguely remember that I have been in love with a butterfly young man for a thousand years. I have no idea that why I clearly know that my first-been human being was Zhu Yingtai, and I met Liang Shangbo in a private school in ancient China. At that time, girls were not allowed like boys to study at schools, so I dressed as a man to study in a private school, where I lived with Liang Shanbo in the same dormitory. I was attracted by his handsome appearance and his gentleman’s refined and courteous behavior, and he took care of me in life and study carefully. I appreciated him, and fell in love with him, for the school life is not easy for a girl in such an environment full of boys.
by Caroline Leary '19
*Pop, pop* I heard the faint sound of popping in the distance. Fear struck my heart, and I stopped dead in my tracks, whipping my head around from left to right. I looked for my friend, Charles. He was no where in sight. I rushed around through crowds of people, looking intently. I started to worry. The dark night began to surround me, and swallow the crowds the further onward I walked.
by Charles Qu '19
It is 1:00 in the morning of 1/1/2000. On the east third ring road of Beijing. There is a narrow street, at the end of the street, there’s a dilapidated building. All the tenants in there are gone outside to celebrate the new year except there is still one person left in this building. In the small room covered in dim orange light, the posters on the wall seem yellower than they used to be, the window has a white frost, it is 5 degrees Celsius outside (15 degrees Fahrenheit). The heat is fully operated in this room, and a 78-year-old man is lying on the bed, with quilts on top of him, stone still. He was outside with his family to see the fireworks for a while, then he got back to his house because he felt too tired and let his family continue to enjoy the new year.
by Mary Steward '19
“Ryan’s already asleep. In the morning he’ll need his medicine, it’s in the cupboard above the sink, the amount he needs is on the label,” Mrs. Girard pointed toward the gorgeous, vast kitchen, “If you need anything, our numbers are on the counter.”
“Perfect, sounds good. Now go out and have fun!” I rushed them out their new, freshly painted red, front door.
by Ashlyn Bowie '19
The cool breeze pushed against my face as I walk on the piping hot sand, thinking about how 147 days ago I was partying on the beach with my friends and now I’m stuck on an island somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. I lay on my towel under the boards of my wrecked boat, completely alone wondering if any of my friends had noticed I was gone the next morning. The smell of smoke runs up my nose from the dying fire from the cold night before. Squinting from the sunlight and sand in my eyes I look out into the open ocean seeing nothing for miles and miles. The thirst quenching my throat feels like sand paper and the hunger is making me feel hollow inside.
by Seth Dube '19
The fire burning around him, the embers popping as they tear at the wood. The smoke clings to the high ceiling, giving a mysterious vail to its true height. The air is hot, burning his lungs with every breath. A bedroom in the middle of the smoldering house is the last to burn. A soldier, standing in the middle of the room stands still. An unknown man, bruised and bloody sits with his back straight against the wall in the corner of the room. The soldiers' jungle camouflage is darkened and dusty from the ash. The only door leading out of the room is closed, but the magnificent light of the fire burns brightly from outside, illuminating the outline of the door frame. Only two pieces of furniture are present in the room. A small round table, two of the legs snapped off and missing, while the rest of the table is covered glowing ember spots as if it was stricken with and illness. Then there was a bed, a queen-size that hasn't been touched by the fire. A prestige white blanket sitting nicely laid upon the bed is slightly blackened from the smoke.
by Stephanie Sanborn '19
You can’t walk down the street without being judged.
Your eyeliner’s smudged?
They’ll laugh, and you’ll run.
A world so obsessed with being the best.
Why can’t you be you, without the stress.
The stress of meeting their standards.
The stress of seeing the banners.
The banners saying be a size one.
And so you go for an extra long run.
Everyone’s telling you to be a better you.
As if the current you shouldn’t stay true.
They say to fix your hair.
If you don’t, they will just stare.
Get good grades, or you’re stupid.
Make sure you’re not secluded.
Wear makeup, it will make you pretty.
But not too much, or you’ll look like Barbie.
by Alvero Piergili '19
The sound coming out from the engine, a V 12 turbo powered engine, sounded all over my head, hitting 18000 revolutions per minute. Changing the gear from seven to eight, pressing the throttle and directing the steering wheel through the famous and dangerous curve called Eau Rouge, in Belgium, the famous circuit of Spa Franconchats.
There I was, living my dream, fighting wheel to wheel with my idol and the legend, Lewis Hamilton. He passed me on the last curve, entering to the last lap. I started following his slipstream, taking a wider racing line through the first curve, getting into the gas faster than him, because he took a defensive line.