Fiction

“Rosie! Wait up! Rosiiiieee!”

“What?”

“I..need….to tell….you something.”

“What?”

“Okay, this might be kinda long. It’s, like, a whole story.”

In the small town of Bristol, where the sun dipped behind the rolling hills in hues of amber and gold, there lived a man named Chip McAllister. Known by his students and the community as "Mr.

Author's note: I was practicing some character design/development, and jumping off of the character I created I wrote this. I have yet to decide if I will take it farther. Enjoy!

“What happens beyond life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, after we die.”

“Well the point is that we don’t know.” 

“But what do you think will happen?”

By Edie Taylor, 10, Montpelier, submitted by Lauren Chabot, Main Street Middle School

The sounds of the rickety Volvo clanked along through the snowstorm–the dim headlights peered past the first house of the town, lighting a sign that read “Welcome to” with the town name shrouded in a thick coating of t

Looking back at it now, I know that it could’ve been different. I could’ve been different. Instead of turning away, I could’ve yelled: “Come back!” I could’ve changed the events that followed when I turned away. But instead, I gave up.

I hardly knew her at all, wasn’t expected to. She was just a kid at the High like anyone else, who had no car. She was sitting stubbornly on a bench, determined to get a ride.

The world is full of problems. It made the man wonder why he bothered to get up in the morning. The sun was shining — but it was too bright. And was it possible for that baby across the street to wail any louder?

I just made the biggest mistake of my life ... To get straight to the point, my dad, who I won't name for other reasons, was this renowned thief of the century.

The High Queen nods approvingly when I enter the throne room, the two children under my arms and Anders over my shoulder.

Prologue: The memories

There were memories. 

Vague ones, but memories nonetheless.