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Writers Showcase

Creative Writing Competition--Catholic Schools Week 2019

2/12/2019

 
The two authors of the first place entry wrote this story to highlight the pillar of the month, fairness
​The Snake and the Seahorse 
     ​There was an eagle, a snake, and a sea horse. “Bet you can’t beat me to that tree,” said the sly slithering snake. “Bet you I can.” said the swimming seahorse. The eagle observed from above, watching the contestants. “Ok, if I win, you shall bring me the shiniest sea shell from one of the seven seas,” sneered the snake. “Fine, if I win you will get me an amazing coconut from the tallest tree,” sang the seahorse.  
     “Okay” the sly snake said, “let's start right here. 3 2 1 Go!” said the snake speedily. The seahorse swam like lightning toward the water part near the tree. “I win!” she shouted. When the snake reached the tree, he was very upset, but soon a sly smile crept onto his face. “I said to that tree,” he said jabbing his tail in the direction of the big palm tree. “But, but that’s on land.” said, the swimming seahorse. “Yes, but that’s what you agreed to.” said the snake, the smile on his face getting bigger. “Now, to business. I would like a blue sea shell, a bright blue one.” 
     Suddenly an eagle flew down and hovered between the snake and the seahorse. “Hey, you guys! Stop arguing. You are not being fair. Fairness is very powerful, so be a superhero of fairness. Fairness means the world. So, Mr. Snake, is that fair that the tree is on land, but the seahorse can’t get to it?” “U-u-uh,” the snake stuttered. “No, I don’t think so,” the eagle replied. “So, let’s restart the race and make it fair this time.” 
     The seahorse swam to the start and the snake slithered slowly. 3. 2. 1. GO! The seahorse swam towards the tree spot in the ocean. “I won!” said the smiling seahorse. “Oh, okay. I guess you win,” he said. He grabbed a fresh coconut from the tallest tree and tossed it to the seahorse. “Thank you ever so much,” said the smiling seahorse. “Let’s race again sometime, and I promise to be fair,” hissed the snake. The eagle flew in the sky. “And that’s why you should be fair.” said the eagle from above. “Though, I’ll probably be back soon.” he said to himself.  
     The eagle flew right toward Chaminade Middle School, landed and walked into the front office. “I need to speak with Mr. Valentine immediately!” exclaimed the eagle. He flew into Mr. Valentine’s office and said, “Mr. Valentine! I have a fairness story for you!” “Oh,” Mr. Valentine said, “I’d love to hear it, what’s it called?” The eagle called out, “It is called The Snake and the Seahorse. There was an eagle, a snake, and a sea horse...” 

​By:Chloe M. and Amanda B. 

Second and third place went to poets who wrote about those things that make Chaminade such a special school.
​Our Home Away From Home
​Walk through these gates
Let your cares float away
Light as a feather,
Oh happy day!

Students laughing loudly
The sacred chapel room
Pens glide across clean paper
So many dreams come true

This is where it happens
From books piled on desks,
To the dreaded mile

We are prepared to succeed
Throughout the seven years
Let our orange spirit bleed
​
Our home away from home
Chaminade tomorrow and today
Family spirit is found here
And we’ll always want to stay
​
By: Camille C.
7th grade

Chaminade
Chaminade is so much fun, but you
Have to get your homework done.
And Chaminade is
My favorite school, which
Is really cool.
No day is a bad day, because
All your friends are there to say hey!
Don’t forget about your teachers,
Even if they sit on the bleachers
​
By: Emily K.
6th Grade

Writing Contest-Catholic Schools Week Edition 2018

2/5/2018

 
Be Your Own Superhero!
 
Not everyone wears a mask and cape
Or saves tall buildings from being devoured by flames
But everyone has a spark, a light
That makes their heart shine so bright
Be your own hero
And save the day
Spread kindness in the world
In your own special way
By: Ameya J. 
6th grade


Superheroes of Service
You don’t have to be able to fly or be able to jump super high
You just have to believe that you can touch the sky
Just as long as you don’t get too nervous
You can save someone’s day by performing a small act of service
You can still help without putting on a mask
The most important thing is to choose the right task
You can help as many people as you want just asl long as you don’t get too stressed
You can be a Superhero even without an “S” on your chest
 
By: Nico C.
7th grade


In the Shadows
The stars, eyes of the night,
Looking down on all those who
Starve,
Shiver,
Survive,
In the shadows
 
Empty stomachs. Parched mouths
Tears fall on the cold cement
People passing by every day,
No one stops.
 
Hours. Days. Weeks.
Out of millions,
Only one.
Helping hands extend.
Steaming warmth,
God’s Good Samaritan
 
The moon, the mother of the night,
Watching on all those who
Eat,
Sleep,
Smile,
In the shadows.
​
Isabella M, 8th grade

Creative Writing Contest-Halloween Short Story Edition

11/6/2017

 
The creative writing club sponsored a contest this Halloween--here is the chilling first place entry.
​
                                                                                     The Morgue
                                                                                       by Karlin B.
​
                It’s been a year since my twin sister went missing. She had gone to the hospital to see it one last time before the bank repossessed it. My life hasn’t been the same since, crumbling around me like an avalanche. It used to be the two of us against the world. Now it’s just…me. It’s hollow and lonely. I’m broken, half of a whole. She was my best friend, the only person who really understood me, my whole world. I’ve been traumatized since then, and I’ve been steeling myself for when I make the journey up there. I’m going to find my sister.

                The rain pours down on my soaking brown hair, pelting me in unforgiving waves. I didn’t grab a coat in my rush to leave home so I wouldn’t change my mind. I hope I don’t catch a cold. That’s the least of my worries. As I wandered down the well-worn path, my feet went into autopilot as I got lost in memories of my sister and me. I can remember how we’d pretend to read each other’s minds in front of our friends and stay up late making each other laugh. She could always cheer me up, no matter what. CRASH! A blast of lightning flashes, tearing me away from memory lane and illuminating a rickety sign with weathered letters. The hospital. I’ve arrived.

               The abandoned hospital is scarier at night. Not one of my best decisions, but Mom would have killed me if she saw where I went, so I had to wait until she was asleep. She’s been doing a whole lot of that since my sister went missing.  I’ve gotta make it home safe. What with Dad away serving as a military doctor, she’s under a lot of stress. It broke my mother’s heart when my Dad left his steady hospital job to work in the military. His excuse was something about helping the greater good, and I get it, but…what about us? If he hadn’t left, my sister would still be with me and I wouldn’t be standing here in the dark, looming shadow of a dead hospital.

                I have to find my sister, but it would crush Mom to lose both of her kids, so I must be careful. I need to get home with my sister so I can see the smile finally return to Mom’s face. There’s no option.

               My gaze shifts to the rotting wood of the doorway. I gather all my courage and step inside.

                I inhale the familiar scent of cleansing wipes and half-dead flowers. This is the hospital that my Dad ran before he went away. It was abandoned soon after. My sister came here to see it one last time, but never returned.

                I take in the eerie hallway lined with rooms for patients in critical care. I go into every single one. My sister isn’t there. I look by the front desk with the fish tank that my sister and I would look at for hours, which now, of course, is empty. She isn’t there.
​
                I find the old staircase to the basement. The stairs creak as my foot hits each step. I take out the flashlight I brought and switch it on. The light reassures me.
               
               I remember this place. The morgue. I always avoided coming down here because it was, by far, the most terrifying place in the whole hospital. I want to turn around, but I know that I’d never forgive myself if I turned around now. My father always taught me: only when you give in to fear are you truly in danger. My sister wasn’t afraid of the morgue. She had always teased me for being a baby. She would come down here all the time. It fascinated her.

            I walk across the basement floor quietly. The wallpaper is torn and yellowing. The floorboards are loose or missing. I have to watch my step. There are tables with scales, cabinets with large steel drawers, bags, and bins everywhere. They wouldn’t have scared me so much if I didn’t know what they were for.

            Suddenly, the flashlight flickers out, and I am plunged into complete darkness. As I stand there, my imagination takes the reigns. I can hear the screams and wails of dying patients. I see the shapes of bodies under white sheets, stock still. I can feel the cold hands clinging to me, begging me to spare them from death, though I could not help them.

             I force myself to snap out of it, regaining control of my consciousness. I‘m on the floor. How did I get here?

            I don’t know why I was hoping to find her here. What if Mom was right? What if something dreadful happened to her? I had spent all these months clinging to a dead hope, convincing myself that she was still here. It’s time to go home. The reality crashes in: she’s gone. I’ll go home, comfort Mom in every way I can. I’ll try to be enough.
​
         I stand up and head for the stairs. I am about to turn around to begin ascending when I see a pair of eyes. The eyes are staring right at me. They were like none I’d ever seen before, almost human but not quite. They were bright, glowing. Boring into me, yet unseeing. Haunting. There was an essence about them that struck me as almost…familiar? Then, the face that the eyes belonged to emerged. All the breath left my chest. A being steps forward, out of the shadows saying, “Didn’t I tell you the dead were fascinating?”

                An odd sensation comes over me. I try to run but I’m paralyzed. It’s as if those eyes have taken control of me. I feel cold. I can’t think. I feel my chest tighten, gasping for air. Is this what dying feels like? I feel the life drain out of me as I sink back to the floor.

                                                                                                                  Emily?

Creative Writing Contest-Halloween Poetry Edition

11/3/2017

 
The Creative Writing Club sponsored a Halloween contest. Here is the very creepy first place poem!
​The Night of Halloween​
by Ryann S.

Two beady eyes
Peer through the mirror
Fake fangs, a plastic cape
And a well-practiced sneer
I step outside, as if in a dream
After all, strange things happen on the night of Halloween
 
Door to door
“Trick or Treat!”
Costumes and Candy
Time blurs as my bucket is filled
With what, I assume, can only be bricks
 
The neighborhood grows darker
But I don’t mind
All I can think of is the CANDY
Soon to be mine
crunch, crackle, crash
I pause in my tracks
But the sound from behind me does not last
As quick as it had started it
It was gone
I continue on my way, who cares what some sound means?
After all, strange things happen on the night of Halloween
 
Door to door
“Trick or Treat!”
Costumes and Candy
Time blurs as my bucket is filled
With what, I assume, can only be bricks
Soon I grow tired
All the walking had some cost
So my feet stumble home
Yet where is home?
I am lost.
Crunch, Crackle, Crash
Eerie eyes stare at me
They blink once, then twice, then let out a bone rattling scream
Of course, I run, I don’t need a college degree
To know that strange things happen on the night of Halloween.
 
Panting, sprinting
Wind whips my back
Someone—something is chasing
CRUNCH, CRACKLE, CRASH
As I race to get away
From the creature who pursues me with glee
After all, strange things happen on the night of Halloween
 
Door past Door
Tricks not Treats
Time blurs as my bag sprawls
The what, I assume, can only be--
 
My calves tighten
I fall all the way down
But the fear numbs my body
Softening the blow to the ground
Then the creature closes in--
I can see it now…
A cape and fangs the flicker and glean--
I close my eyes…
After all, strange things happen on the night of
​hall— 

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  • Home
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