Spooktacular Writing
Get into the spirit of Halloween with these creative and hauntingly written pieces from students in Ms. Schmidt’s Creative Writing Class. Love it? Consider creative writing as an elective choice next year.
Past by Melanie Thoeming
Tick Tick
The clock likes to repeat
Brick by brick
And concrete
Ding dong
Goes the dinner bell
A distance song
Like the ocean in a seashell
Beep Beep
My watch elicits
Me on the edge of sleep
Five more minutes
Riiiinggggg
The school bell screeches
As the day makes our moods swing
Unbothered, the teacher still teaches
Bing Bong
Sounds the grand in the corner
Its pendulum gold and long
It’s sway becomes foreigner
Chime..Chime
Goes the last
Once again, time
Is in the past
Stop by Ray Valandingham
stop
said the sign, tall and proud
brightly painted, drawing attention
to the end of a road, cared for,
with dewy grass, and trimmed hedges
stop
said the sign, dim and dreary
rusted out, dented, beat
to the end of a road, final human moments,
the plants are dead, the dirt dried out
stop
said the sign, fallen over
faded to obscurity, a reminder, a memory
to the end of a road, the end of earth
metal melting to the ground, the star flares brightly
stop
said nothing, words no more
the supernova expanded, nebulous dust and light
to the end of a road, seconds stretched to years
jupiter in flames, saturn’s rings blown out,
stop
breathe, says the endless stariness
it gives you life, for the best of times
to the end of a road, your beating heart
you are a moment, a precious one, at that
I love you
says the universe, flourishing your existence
your flowing mind, your pulsing life
to the end of a road, a marker of human influence
a sign stands, tall and proud.
Surgery Dreams by Isabella Woo
I did it
The special drink
I didn’t feel anything
I felt a little shrink
Mother runs into the room
Her smile wide as a caterpillar
Gangly arms growing
The room getting chiller
Father comes next
Eyes popping out
Ribs coming out of his chest
He’s now short and stout
Fell down againRainbow walls bugs chanting
Love her love thy I love my guy
Sitting up panting
They pick me up
Throw me down a hole
Falling down and down
They all shout goal
Landed on my bed
The wood shattering under my weight
Mom and dad are normal now
What on Earth did I take
Untitled by Ray Valandingham
An old shipwreck washes ashore, massive and fragile, imposing and magnificent,
Rotted with barnacles and mildew, gutted by the pressures of the sea and desperate fish.
The smell condemned the entire beach, the decomposition of wood never helped the smell of dead flesh, both human and animal.
One night, exceedingly bleak, obscenely neglected, the moonlight reflected off of the beach sand perfectly, and the decrepit thing’s dark hull could be peered into,
Only visible from the massive gouge in its side.
Tentacles and fins, wings and feet, boiled by pressure, unrecognizable with the air,
Molded together from the decades, even centuries of waterlogging and the jarring arrival to land,
Sudden, inexplicable, unnatural.
Anyone who approaches the vessel swears that you can hear ancient, remembered creaking,
Memories of activity and movement leftover from whatever disaster sent it underwater.
No matter what, though, one thing is for certain.
The rotted tentacle slipping up the mast is definitely moving, twitching,
Ever so slowly, ever so carefully, upwards.
