Fiction

By Jadyn Mardy, 18, Hempstead, NY

Why does a willow bend upside down,
Its branches floating by the ground,
Instead of reaching for the sky?
Who made it droop so low?
'Twas I.

The Shadowvale was one of those places you entered and never left. If you did manage to leave, you were different. You entered the Vale if you were desperate. If your farm was rotting or your family was dying and the only salvation was magic.

I'm Brenda Chesley.
One of the worst things that can happen to you is that you wake up one morning to find that your parents are gone, and the car in the garage below your room is on fire. Oh, and that day also happens to be your birthday.

A cold blast of wind whipped across my face. Trees almost ten stories high towered over me as I climbed up the snow-covered hillside, a cloak of fur wrapped tightly around my shoulders. 

The soft, bouncy bed beneath him. Breathing air smelling of hand sanitizer, antiseptics, and alcohol. An uncountable amount of medical instruments that Joe didn’t know the name of. All of this didn’t help the uneasy feeling in Joe’s stomach.

     One.
     A daughter arranges sympathy cards on the mantle, changing places, angles, trying to make them fit. We’re sorry for your loss. With sympathy. Our thoughts are with you.

It started in fifth grade when little Elizabeth realized life isn't perfect. Like when the teachers would always say “I need some strong boys to stack these chairs” or when the boys were a little too cocky at boys vs girls dodgeball.

Below the Smokey Sky

By Stella Mauro and Mac Buckingham

  The first thing I notice is the smell of lemon poppyseed bread. Well, that and the thought that sweat is rolling down my fur. I'll smell in a few minutes, I know, if I don't get out from under this abandoned paper bag and move around.