Sofie saw her mother’s daisy lying in its little pot on the counter. The full watering can sat next to it; it’s faded flowery stickers peeling with age. Dang! In her rush to leave on the most important day of all at school, she had neglected to water the small plant. She picked up the watering can and tried to douse the daisy in water, but it was too late. The small plant bent down and it’s happy bright colors faded to a dreary shade of gray. No, no, no! When her mother got home to find the daisy lifeless she would be in the most trouble anyone could ever be in the history of the world. This was all because Sofie had died the tips of her hair pink. It all started at the hair dying salon when her mother got all worked up and she needed the daisy most. It would only work if Sofie had watered it. And now, thought Sofie with one thought leading to another, my mother may never get better again because of me. Then she started to cry. She slid down the wall, fat drops pouring out of her eyes life a waterfall. These were the tears she had been keeping back ever since her mother became ill. It had always been Sofie’s fault. Maybe her mother was better off without her. Yes that was absolutely true. So Sofie, her eyes still wet, left and hurried out into the rain only leaving behind one small trace that she had ever lived in her mother’s house. A small letter written on the largest charcoal petal from the daisy. The one her mother always turned over in her fingers when Sofie was at the store or out with friends. That one was Sofie’s petal. Each person that was special or dear to her mother had a petal and her mother would turn their petal around in her hand when she felt that person could use just a little luck. Just enough for the flowers magic to fill her with hope. Hope that maybe she may live. That she and Sofie would be able to spend more than just a few years together before… before… before she was gone.
Haikus by Daiyao Zhang
Short Story by Solyana & Erin
It was a rock with a keyhole. The rock was shining in the sunlight, and Claire instinctively reached to her necklace. The silver key fit into the rock’s keyhole and the rock moved to the side! Claire and Erin gasped and looked at each other. It was a hole, a pitch black hole. Cautiously they climbed into the hole that lead to a tomb full of amazing and historical treasures of a pirate. They tried to dig around it but whenever they did an odd sound of shifting tiles sounded. Then something started to slowly rise out of the sand covered in rust and seaweed. It was a golden tablet. The tablet had strange writing on it, and a small door was on the side. When Claire opened the door, a shining light burst out and the girls were sucked inside.
A Short Story by Claire Turnbull & Mica Wishengrad
…CLUNK! A wooden treasure chest with gold coins spilling out was revealed. Pandi the panda pulled it out of the sand and put it on her beach chair. The beach goers to her left had their mouths open in awe. Pandi the panda carefully opened it up. Then she screamed. She saw a warm, golden light wrapping around her like a blanket. It encased her and she faded. The light disappeared, yet it was bright and warm. Her eyes were closed and she was swimming far, far away from her beach, from everything she knew and loved. Far, far away. Finally she landed and felt hard metal… coins below her feet. She was in the treasure chest.
A short story by Kaylie Montgomery
Worn by Daiyao Zhang
Worn
Stop on Main Street and look up at the sign that tells you where you are even though you insist you already know.
Do you see how the sign reaches towards you as if
you have a secret to tell?
Do you see where the rebels tried to tear it down, where the snow melted and fell,
where the baseball finally dented the corners after hours of target practice?
Now look at the cracked pavement, note the maniacal grin that meets your eyes, the
pothole mouth that will never close
Do you see the balled up Wall Street Journal on the ground? Do you see the
worn words of tired ghosts, stolen children, kidnapped homes?
Can you feel the relaxed page of comics sweeping over you like your mother’s palm,
can you see the wrinkles in the op-ed page, waiting for you to smooth it out?
Can you see the same wrinkles in the mother who swept her palm over you? The
way she smoothed out the collar of your shirt with the same hands.
Can you see the way she silently stirred the pot with your favorite soup, and spoke about her days of blissful childhood?
Do you remember the way your sister leapt into the days and swam into the nights
and stared at the moon like a newborn wolf?
Do you see the town you passed on the way to piano class, the one with houses that
had chipped paint and drooping Christmas wreaths?
And finally, look at your hands. Do you
see the creases in your fingers, the lines on your palms?
how many years
have you worn?
“Love Makes the World Go ‘Round” by Kaylie Montgomery
Whispers.
Cool, calm
They are the only peace in this world.
From the load bickering of the spokespeople
to those in quiet shops or apartments
to the faces of your loved ones
To the animals in the park,
They all love each other
And that’s what matters
If we all stopped and argued,
All through the day,
Life would not move forward.
Love would be the only way.
“Henry Had a Secret” by Madeleine Triff
Henry had a secret,
A big one full of fun
Henry had a secret,
His mom hadn’t won
Henry had a secret,
His mom hadn’t won
Henry had a secret,
And finally spilled the beans
Henry had a secret,
And saw his brother gape
Henry had a secret,
He owned a great big ape.
“Cool as a Cucumber” by Madeleine Triff
She was cool as a cucumber
A ripe big one too,
She was cool as a cucumber
Crisp and full of crunch,
She was cool as a cucumber
On a hot sunny afternoon,
She was cool as a cucumber
even on a rainy day.
“Spill the Beans” by Kaylee Montgomery
Beans, rolling down a hill
tumbling.
A long-lost secret.
A forgotten code.
That’s what they where;
Four lonely secrets
As brown and tumbly as beans
Brown
Like the dirt we sit on.