Saturday, July 30, 2016

GALAXY by Anvivi, age 11


A tornado of colors                                                          
hover above the
Glittery specks
Meander through the atmosphere:
dead people holding lanterns
Lighting our way
As we play
hide and seek in a dark field.
An orange glow
smears the
A silhouette
of a single
bird stamps
the twinkling

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Thursday, July 21, 2016

MIDNIGHT by Anvivi, age 11

Rain sprinkles onto the old castle's roof, knocking crusts of gray paint off the gutter, popping them into a batter of mud. Inside, a black widow skulks on furry feet across a wooden floor that slithers with red slime. It twirls into a bowl of popcorn, and through a fizzing puddle of Coke. It pulls us to a bedroom, its walls lined with plastic, hairless dolls. The room belongs to two sisters, Elizabeth and Amber. At night the dolls sing lullabies and twitch their eyes.

Every time Elizabeth cast a spell she’’ would remember her sisters death. It was like yesterday that Amber died. One day when they were little, Elizabeth was trying out a new spell on their pet gecko. When she closed her eyes and twirled her fingers she heard something collapse. She opened her eyes. Amber lay on the floor, now the size of a doll. Her skin was cloth. Red stitches connected her limbs to her body. Dusty indigo buttons spun in her eye sockets. Elizabeth held her sister up to her chest, and said,“Im sorry, I didnt see you!” 
“I will come back,”said Amber. 

Elizabeth felt as if her heart were torn in half, as if someone turned on a faucet in her eyes, she started to pour tears. She sat her sister down on the nightstand against the lamp. Every night, her doll-sister would watch her sleep. 
Every time Elizabeth practices her spells, tears trickle down her face. She remembers that Amber said that she would come back. Elizabeth is still waiting for her sister to fulfill her promise.

Lightning cracks open the chimney walls. Purple clouds condense and form a flock of puffs in the sky. Wind blows the curtains inside the windows and green mist drizzles onto the floor. A shadow of a girl sits on Elizabeths bed, half of her head hairless.

Her castle suffocates with spider webs, black and gray bricks patterning the large walls. Gargoyles guarding every window. Behind the castle is a graveyard where her sister is buried.

Midnight. A subtle stampede of footsteps run up and down the stairs awaking Elizabeth. She pops out of bed to go check the hallway, leaving her sheets and blankets dangling from her bed. Red footsteps lead outside. A waft of wind blows behind her, a large framed picture of her sister falls from the wall and lands face up. Glass shattering across the wooden floor. A white shadow darts across the room. A globe of light hides under white sheets. A swoosh of song fills the room with a thick layer of darkness. The lullaby that her dad used to sing when Amber was still alive, a soft, swaying whisper that made the sisters feel like they were drifting with the oceans tide to shore. 

Outside the window, a little girls scream. Elizabeth sweeps the curtains aside. The body of girl who looks like Amber lies on the ground. Blood oozes from her forehead onto the grass, staining the green field. Patches of toasted fabric cling to human skin. Half of her head is hairless. The girl slowly picks herself up and floats to the fountain in front of Elizabeths castle. She sits on the edge of the fountain dusted with spider webs. Elizabeth races across the hallway down the five sets of stairs and outside. As soon as she reaches the fountain nothing remains but the fading lullaby... 
   “Im back.”


Wednesday, July 13, 2016

JELLYFISH By Carmen & Vanessa, both age 9

By Carmen & Vanessa 

Their tentacles swirl 
around the ocean, 
tangling together,
gliding through the water,
blooming like flower buds, 
fluttering and hugging their bodies.
They glow like lanterns. 
They are see through and 
their hearts 
do not look like hearts, 
they look like 
or bullets.
A cluster of trees stares at a 
school of fish swimming
through a squiggle 
of Jello-y noodles,
wondering why 
they never 

Friday, July 8, 2016