1st Place
Jasmine Singleton
North Hall Middle School
The Meadow Where the Oak Tree Lingers
I rolled and rolled as far as my clay legs could possibly take me, my fresh green stem oozing with impurity. I leaped of a jagged rock and plummeted to the ground, my clay pot shattering as the pain shot through my body. My roots were undone, my leaves mangled, who would’ve known what a hill could do to a venus fly trap?
The soft green grass relaxed my pain-filled body, but still the pain urged on, there had to be somewhere where I was out of harm’s way. I dragged myself through the day, one miserable step at a time. When the sky too became tired, it went into a deep somber and let out a great roar. The rain began to pour as the sky rumbled with exhaustion. My limp roots begged my not not move any further, but I knew we had no chance if we didn’t. I struggled to move after a long break, but I forced myself to go on.
I came to a clearing were an oak lingered above me. I dug into the newly wet dirt, my roots begging for mercy. We had to make it through the day, at least the rain, it was my one way chance to safety. Winding down in what was temporarily my home, I finally caught a moment to think. Here I was, stumped under an oak tree struggling to survive, and yet still asking myself the same question… What next?
My eyes became weary and slowly eased shut, the gateway to my dreams looming before me. I stepped through the gate and let my dreams take over. I looked around and found myself under the oak. Though an oak, this one was bigger, or maybe not, but it was definitely striving with life. I moved toward the tree and stopped in the place I had fallen asleep. The tree shook, and the wind swirled through the branches making a faint whisper. The wind came again, this time stronger, and I heard a strong voice srum through the air around me. For some reason I couldn’t make it out. Maybe I was crazy, but the voice sounded familiar. I looked up at the tree in vein trying to hear it as the wind kept blowing. The voice drifted away and the oak slowly faded from view. I woke with a freight, yet now feeling comfort. Where had I heard that voice before?
After the rain stopped and I had decided I was well enough to move on from the oak, I headed to the hill where my pot lay shattered. It was a long journey back, but I kept going. I had an unnerving feeling that I would find something at the hill. I walked and walked, never knowing if it would end. However, after what seemed like an eternity, I finally stopped to look up to a towering hill. I looked left and right trying to find a way to get up the hill, but when I came across my shattered pot I stopped with a pang of sadness.
I stood there for a while, staring at my pot. I tried to remember what had caused me to fall off the hill, but couldn’t remember. I tried to remember anything before me great fall, but couldn’t. Why can’t I remember anything? I kept thinking to myself. I looked down on my pot, thinking of the venus fly trap that once stood there. I tried to imagine myself looking stronger with the pot rebuilt around my roots, but for some reason couldn’t picture it right. I thought of a way to get my memories back, but it was pretty risky. I was going to climb up the hill.
My body was still healing, but I knew I could do it. My leaves grabbed onto the hill as my roots dug into the hard soil below me. One step at a time, I became higher and higher in the sky, yet farther and farther away from my pot. The wind blew rapidly around me, threatening to blow me away. All it did was make me try harder. I dug my roots further into the soil and pulled hard with my leaves. The pot was nowhere to be scene, and neither was the top of the hill. All around me for miles and miles was nothing but grass, and one looming hill. I kept on going, forcing myself to hold on tighter. My vision became fuzzy, and slowly my eyes eased shut. The grass and sunlight was no-more. Now, in its place was a vortex of darkness and an undeniable silence.
I was under the oak, my journey for nothing. I looked out into the familiar meadow, but then the surrounding images blurred together to form a small farm. The scene brought a feeling of warmth to me, and then it hit me. I remembered everything, the tornado, the daily storms, the farm animals, and even Debby. Debby was the five year old girl that had planted me. After that the scene didn’t seem quite comforting. Where was Debby? I tried to move forward, but it didn’t work. I looked out across the small farm trying to find something to tell me that someone was here, but couldn’t find anything. I looked through what I could see of the windows, but then I saw it.
Through Debby’s window I saw a shadow casted upon the wall slowly make way across the room. I kept on looking, trying to see who it was, and finally they moved in front of the window. Sure enough, it was Debby. I heard her muffled voice ring enthusiastically through the window and an immediate flashback appeared before me. I remembered my dream from the night I was actually under the oak tree, thinking back on the voice strumming through the air. It was Debby, calling for her venus fly trap to come home. My vision faded along with the familiar farm which I now thought of as home. I was back on the hill, but not really. I couldn’t exactly figure out what was happening, but then I had the oh so familiar feeling of danger. I looked around me, and realised I was falling.
Down, down, and down I went. I must have lost hold of the hill when I fainted. Without a pot for protection, I knew I had to grab onto the hill this time. I frantically searched for a crevice in the hill, but when I did it was too late to grab it because I was still falling. I kept on looking, but then I saw the ground. I don’t have enough time. I thought to myself. Then, an idea ran through my head. I grabbed a leaf of one of the trees on the hill and just in the wink of time, I managed to use it as an airplane. The wind was blowing hard so it was easy to glide through the air. I saw the spot where I had fallen off the hill and peacefully sailed over it. I was nearing the top and soon landed on the ground.
I saw the farm and made my way to the door. I pushed the door open and was welcomed with a warm five year old smile. Debby carefully lifted me from the ground as I looked around the room, nothing had really changed. We walked inside as I prepared myself for the flower bed outside the window, but then Debby turned. She took me to the nightstand and carefully eased me into a small pot by her bed. Though it wasn’t the same window, the scene looked oddly familiar. I looked down on a meadow and recognised a familiar tree. It was the oak tree. I liked my new spot, it let me see the one who helped me remember. The tree that brought me home. Right out my window, was the meadow where the oak tree lingered
I rolled and rolled as far as my clay legs could possibly take me, my fresh green stem oozing with impurity. I leaped of a jagged rock and plummeted to the ground, my clay pot shattering as the pain shot through my body. My roots were undone, my leaves mangled, who would’ve known what a hill could do to a venus fly trap?
The soft green grass relaxed my pain-filled body, but still the pain urged on, there had to be somewhere where I was out of harm’s way. I dragged myself through the day, one miserable step at a time. When the sky too became tired, it went into a deep somber and let out a great roar. The rain began to pour as the sky rumbled with exhaustion. My limp roots begged my not not move any further, but I knew we had no chance if we didn’t. I struggled to move after a long break, but I forced myself to go on.
I came to a clearing were an oak lingered above me. I dug into the newly wet dirt, my roots begging for mercy. We had to make it through the day, at least the rain, it was my one way chance to safety. Winding down in what was temporarily my home, I finally caught a moment to think. Here I was, stumped under an oak tree struggling to survive, and yet still asking myself the same question… What next?
My eyes became weary and slowly eased shut, the gateway to my dreams looming before me. I stepped through the gate and let my dreams take over. I looked around and found myself under the oak. Though an oak, this one was bigger, or maybe not, but it was definitely striving with life. I moved toward the tree and stopped in the place I had fallen asleep. The tree shook, and the wind swirled through the branches making a faint whisper. The wind came again, this time stronger, and I heard a strong voice srum through the air around me. For some reason I couldn’t make it out. Maybe I was crazy, but the voice sounded familiar. I looked up at the tree in vein trying to hear it as the wind kept blowing. The voice drifted away and the oak slowly faded from view. I woke with a freight, yet now feeling comfort. Where had I heard that voice before?
After the rain stopped and I had decided I was well enough to move on from the oak, I headed to the hill where my pot lay shattered. It was a long journey back, but I kept going. I had an unnerving feeling that I would find something at the hill. I walked and walked, never knowing if it would end. However, after what seemed like an eternity, I finally stopped to look up to a towering hill. I looked left and right trying to find a way to get up the hill, but when I came across my shattered pot I stopped with a pang of sadness.
I stood there for a while, staring at my pot. I tried to remember what had caused me to fall off the hill, but couldn’t remember. I tried to remember anything before me great fall, but couldn’t. Why can’t I remember anything? I kept thinking to myself. I looked down on my pot, thinking of the venus fly trap that once stood there. I tried to imagine myself looking stronger with the pot rebuilt around my roots, but for some reason couldn’t picture it right. I thought of a way to get my memories back, but it was pretty risky. I was going to climb up the hill.
My body was still healing, but I knew I could do it. My leaves grabbed onto the hill as my roots dug into the hard soil below me. One step at a time, I became higher and higher in the sky, yet farther and farther away from my pot. The wind blew rapidly around me, threatening to blow me away. All it did was make me try harder. I dug my roots further into the soil and pulled hard with my leaves. The pot was nowhere to be scene, and neither was the top of the hill. All around me for miles and miles was nothing but grass, and one looming hill. I kept on going, forcing myself to hold on tighter. My vision became fuzzy, and slowly my eyes eased shut. The grass and sunlight was no-more. Now, in its place was a vortex of darkness and an undeniable silence.
I was under the oak, my journey for nothing. I looked out into the familiar meadow, but then the surrounding images blurred together to form a small farm. The scene brought a feeling of warmth to me, and then it hit me. I remembered everything, the tornado, the daily storms, the farm animals, and even Debby. Debby was the five year old girl that had planted me. After that the scene didn’t seem quite comforting. Where was Debby? I tried to move forward, but it didn’t work. I looked out across the small farm trying to find something to tell me that someone was here, but couldn’t find anything. I looked through what I could see of the windows, but then I saw it.
Through Debby’s window I saw a shadow casted upon the wall slowly make way across the room. I kept on looking, trying to see who it was, and finally they moved in front of the window. Sure enough, it was Debby. I heard her muffled voice ring enthusiastically through the window and an immediate flashback appeared before me. I remembered my dream from the night I was actually under the oak tree, thinking back on the voice strumming through the air. It was Debby, calling for her venus fly trap to come home. My vision faded along with the familiar farm which I now thought of as home. I was back on the hill, but not really. I couldn’t exactly figure out what was happening, but then I had the oh so familiar feeling of danger. I looked around me, and realised I was falling.
Down, down, and down I went. I must have lost hold of the hill when I fainted. Without a pot for protection, I knew I had to grab onto the hill this time. I frantically searched for a crevice in the hill, but when I did it was too late to grab it because I was still falling. I kept on looking, but then I saw the ground. I don’t have enough time. I thought to myself. Then, an idea ran through my head. I grabbed a leaf of one of the trees on the hill and just in the wink of time, I managed to use it as an airplane. The wind was blowing hard so it was easy to glide through the air. I saw the spot where I had fallen off the hill and peacefully sailed over it. I was nearing the top and soon landed on the ground.
I saw the farm and made my way to the door. I pushed the door open and was welcomed with a warm five year old smile. Debby carefully lifted me from the ground as I looked around the room, nothing had really changed. We walked inside as I prepared myself for the flower bed outside the window, but then Debby turned. She took me to the nightstand and carefully eased me into a small pot by her bed. Though it wasn’t the same window, the scene looked oddly familiar. I looked down on a meadow and recognised a familiar tree. It was the oak tree. I liked my new spot, it let me see the one who helped me remember. The tree that brought me home. Right out my window, was the meadow where the oak tree lingered
2nd Place
Josie Fitzgerald
North Hall Middle School
The Runaways
For years, Dasha stared at this empty ceiling, watching mold grow around the imprints in the walls. She is trapped in her own despair. She can't move, speak or hear except for the smothered echoes inside her hollow imagination. All she can do is watch her life go by. People after people.
The brown door opened revealing a short girl. She walked in slowly, hesitating. One long braid gathered her soft red hair as she tucked her thin t-shirt into her oversized sweatpants. Tears built up in her large, round glasses.
It was Dasha’s fourteen year old daughter, Sarah. She stepped to the front of Dasha’s hospital bed. “I’m sorry.” Sarah sobbed, as she reached to hug Dasha.
Sarah walked out and into her cousin's arms. Clyde was the only family Sarah had left. He was a long, thin man with comforting emerald eyes, and leathery lips. His big, calloused hands firmly latched around Sarah, as tears rolled down her gentle face.
The old hospital is closing down, and Dasha was not independent enough to go home and there was no money to pay for a transfer. She was going to be euthanized. It was the way of life in this new world, and Sarah knew her Mom would not get better.
The mid evening wind blew dirt across the gravel drive, stinging Sarah’s shins. The crisp air of the freshly cut grass welcomed Sarah and Clyde home. As Sarah layed on her firm pillow, from the corner of her eye she looked into the mirror. She tried to pull apart all her features from her mother and see what was left. Was that what her father looked like? Sarah stared at the mirror until she dozed off sleep.
She awoke to the sorrowful cry of the new moon’s breeze banging against her ears. She slowly brought herself to her feet and drifted out of bed and down the creaking hallway. As she made her way into the kitchen, she glanced over at Clyde's wooden desk. Her throat began to feel thin and her feet felt heavy. On a thin piece of paper was Clyde's messy signature. It was a form. Sarah moved her finger through the bold print. “Sign here if euthanizing Mrs. Dasha Green”, Sarah’s voice came out as a croak.
She crumpled the paper in a small ball but before she could throw it in the trash, she heard footsteps. The floor creaked as they got louder. “Sarah.” Clyde's voice came out as a muttered echo. “I … just needed ……..to...um……..get some ..water.” Sarah answered. She tucked the form in the pocket of her oversized-sweat pants and went back to her bedroom.
The sun poked through the leaves in the trees, as Sarah got out of bed. She reached into her back pocket, expecting to feel a crumpled piece of paper. Her soft eyes narrowed. The form was gone. It must have fallen out in the hall on my way back to bed! I need to make sure Mom is still at the nursing home.
Sarah raced down the gravel driveway and down the old country roads. The sun beat down on her sun kissed face as she arrived at the nursing home. She was welcomed by a short hispanic women. “ Umm, I am here to see Mrs. Dasha Green.” Sarah said catching her breath. The small women pulled her notty dread locks behind her ears and started typing into a computer. “And...um ma’am… how would you spell that.” The lady asked. “ D a s h a” Sarah responded. “I’m sorry sweetie. But it seems she checked out earlier. She’s not showing up.” The lady said sympathetically. “Bu..but ma’am. She could not possibly be able to check herself out. She is …..” Sarah hesitated. “I’m sorry sweetie, I just started my shift fifthteen minutes ago, she could have been checked out hours ago.” The lady said. Sarah’s throat squeezed up and she could feel tears being built up in the bags of her eyes, as she ran home.
“Sarah I have been looking for you.” Clyde said nervously as she opened the door that lead to the dusty house. An old tall man with crooked teeth and ratty hair took a sip of steaming coffee.“Who is that?” Sarah new the answer. “It’s um...can I talk to you for a minute.” Clyde and Sarah walked up the old stairs that lead to a bedroom. Sarah could not look at him. Her tears where damping her shirt, for she knew what he was about to say. “Sarah, do you remember that the hospital your mom is staying at is closing down? Well, we don’t have the money to transfer.” Sarah avoided eye contact and nodded. “Your too young to understand, but I don’t think your Mom enjoyed sitting in that hospital bed everyday waiting for her life to end.
“At least she was alive!” Sara’s voice came out harsher than she intended. “Well anyway, I already know what you are going to say. I saw the paper last night”, Sarah interrupted Clyde slamming her bedroom door. Clyde’s face crippled .
“I’m sorry about that.” Clyde said. The old man stood there with an unforgiving smirk on his face.
Sarah watched the baby blue sky fade into a lilac purple, and the lilac purple fade into the hollow darkness of night. She thought of her mother's confusion as men rolled her out of her hospital bed . Her silent streak of pain as the needle, the needle that can meet the line of life and death, the needle that would end her mother’s life, go into her veins without a flench. When the only sense she had, the sense of sight, would slowly fade into a black hole of darkness. Sarah drifted into sleep knowing her Mother would be gone before morning.
The sun came up leaving less stars visible, as Sarah was pulled from sleep by the voice of her cousin. “Sarah” Clyde’s voice sounded confused, “I got a message from the doctor, your Mother was removed from the hospital yesterday at 9:00 am, and admitted to the clinic where she was, you know, she was scheduled to be euthanized. But when they checked on her last night at 11:00 pm … well...she was gone.”
Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat “How? It’s not like she could just walk away.”
“They don’t know how. The doctors must have gotten their information wrong. They said if she is functioning she would probably come to us.”
Although Sarah was confused she was, however, excited that her mother might actually be healed.
That night, Sarah layed down on her pillow and slowly drifted into sleep. She awoke to a crackle of thunder and a striking beam of light that lit up her bedroom. Through her window stood a short figure with soft, brown, curly hair, damp from the rain, wearing what looked to be a… Sarah paused, a thought of horror and adventure flashed into her mind all at once. She seemed to be wearing a blue hospital gown. “Mom” Sarah croaked. “Yes, Sara is that you” Dasha said with hope lighting up her brown eyes. Dasha and Sarah wrapped their arms around each other and did not let go for what seemed like a lifetime.
“Mom, how are you even here I thought you were” Dasha interrupted “ I will tell you later, but now we’ve got to go.” “Where?” Sarah said with confusion. “People are trying to find me. Right before the accident, I was planning to take you on a surprise trip to the place you and I had dreamed about….do you remember?” Sarah, remembered very well...they constantly talked about visiting Hawaii and tears filled her eyes. “I found the tickets in my bag at the hospital. We have to go and hope that we can have our tickets transferred to a flight leaving today” Dasha said persuasively. “But I can’t just leave. What about Clyde” “He will be here when you return!”, Dasha insisted.
The night faded into the early morning and soon Sarah and Dasha arrived in Maui..
The puffy white clouds spread across the horizon. The sun lit up the leaves in the palm trees, as Sarah and Dasha collapsed on sand.
“How are you here” Sarah said afraid of the answer. “I’m guessing nobody told you the whole story. The day you came to visit, I was already dead.” Sarah stared blankly in the eyes of her supposedly dead mother. “But how?” Sarah’s voice shook. “I received a gift, but, I’m afraid I’m over using it. I just had to see you once more, but now, I’m afraid I have to go.” said her Mother.
Sarah’s eyes melted into tiny eclipses in the sun revealing stolen pieces of sunlight. Dasha’s figure slowly began to fade, drifting away into the light breeze.
To be continued
For years, Dasha stared at this empty ceiling, watching mold grow around the imprints in the walls. She is trapped in her own despair. She can't move, speak or hear except for the smothered echoes inside her hollow imagination. All she can do is watch her life go by. People after people.
The brown door opened revealing a short girl. She walked in slowly, hesitating. One long braid gathered her soft red hair as she tucked her thin t-shirt into her oversized sweatpants. Tears built up in her large, round glasses.
It was Dasha’s fourteen year old daughter, Sarah. She stepped to the front of Dasha’s hospital bed. “I’m sorry.” Sarah sobbed, as she reached to hug Dasha.
Sarah walked out and into her cousin's arms. Clyde was the only family Sarah had left. He was a long, thin man with comforting emerald eyes, and leathery lips. His big, calloused hands firmly latched around Sarah, as tears rolled down her gentle face.
The old hospital is closing down, and Dasha was not independent enough to go home and there was no money to pay for a transfer. She was going to be euthanized. It was the way of life in this new world, and Sarah knew her Mom would not get better.
The mid evening wind blew dirt across the gravel drive, stinging Sarah’s shins. The crisp air of the freshly cut grass welcomed Sarah and Clyde home. As Sarah layed on her firm pillow, from the corner of her eye she looked into the mirror. She tried to pull apart all her features from her mother and see what was left. Was that what her father looked like? Sarah stared at the mirror until she dozed off sleep.
She awoke to the sorrowful cry of the new moon’s breeze banging against her ears. She slowly brought herself to her feet and drifted out of bed and down the creaking hallway. As she made her way into the kitchen, she glanced over at Clyde's wooden desk. Her throat began to feel thin and her feet felt heavy. On a thin piece of paper was Clyde's messy signature. It was a form. Sarah moved her finger through the bold print. “Sign here if euthanizing Mrs. Dasha Green”, Sarah’s voice came out as a croak.
She crumpled the paper in a small ball but before she could throw it in the trash, she heard footsteps. The floor creaked as they got louder. “Sarah.” Clyde's voice came out as a muttered echo. “I … just needed ……..to...um……..get some ..water.” Sarah answered. She tucked the form in the pocket of her oversized-sweat pants and went back to her bedroom.
The sun poked through the leaves in the trees, as Sarah got out of bed. She reached into her back pocket, expecting to feel a crumpled piece of paper. Her soft eyes narrowed. The form was gone. It must have fallen out in the hall on my way back to bed! I need to make sure Mom is still at the nursing home.
Sarah raced down the gravel driveway and down the old country roads. The sun beat down on her sun kissed face as she arrived at the nursing home. She was welcomed by a short hispanic women. “ Umm, I am here to see Mrs. Dasha Green.” Sarah said catching her breath. The small women pulled her notty dread locks behind her ears and started typing into a computer. “And...um ma’am… how would you spell that.” The lady asked. “ D a s h a” Sarah responded. “I’m sorry sweetie. But it seems she checked out earlier. She’s not showing up.” The lady said sympathetically. “Bu..but ma’am. She could not possibly be able to check herself out. She is …..” Sarah hesitated. “I’m sorry sweetie, I just started my shift fifthteen minutes ago, she could have been checked out hours ago.” The lady said. Sarah’s throat squeezed up and she could feel tears being built up in the bags of her eyes, as she ran home.
“Sarah I have been looking for you.” Clyde said nervously as she opened the door that lead to the dusty house. An old tall man with crooked teeth and ratty hair took a sip of steaming coffee.“Who is that?” Sarah new the answer. “It’s um...can I talk to you for a minute.” Clyde and Sarah walked up the old stairs that lead to a bedroom. Sarah could not look at him. Her tears where damping her shirt, for she knew what he was about to say. “Sarah, do you remember that the hospital your mom is staying at is closing down? Well, we don’t have the money to transfer.” Sarah avoided eye contact and nodded. “Your too young to understand, but I don’t think your Mom enjoyed sitting in that hospital bed everyday waiting for her life to end.
“At least she was alive!” Sara’s voice came out harsher than she intended. “Well anyway, I already know what you are going to say. I saw the paper last night”, Sarah interrupted Clyde slamming her bedroom door. Clyde’s face crippled .
“I’m sorry about that.” Clyde said. The old man stood there with an unforgiving smirk on his face.
Sarah watched the baby blue sky fade into a lilac purple, and the lilac purple fade into the hollow darkness of night. She thought of her mother's confusion as men rolled her out of her hospital bed . Her silent streak of pain as the needle, the needle that can meet the line of life and death, the needle that would end her mother’s life, go into her veins without a flench. When the only sense she had, the sense of sight, would slowly fade into a black hole of darkness. Sarah drifted into sleep knowing her Mother would be gone before morning.
The sun came up leaving less stars visible, as Sarah was pulled from sleep by the voice of her cousin. “Sarah” Clyde’s voice sounded confused, “I got a message from the doctor, your Mother was removed from the hospital yesterday at 9:00 am, and admitted to the clinic where she was, you know, she was scheduled to be euthanized. But when they checked on her last night at 11:00 pm … well...she was gone.”
Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat “How? It’s not like she could just walk away.”
“They don’t know how. The doctors must have gotten their information wrong. They said if she is functioning she would probably come to us.”
Although Sarah was confused she was, however, excited that her mother might actually be healed.
That night, Sarah layed down on her pillow and slowly drifted into sleep. She awoke to a crackle of thunder and a striking beam of light that lit up her bedroom. Through her window stood a short figure with soft, brown, curly hair, damp from the rain, wearing what looked to be a… Sarah paused, a thought of horror and adventure flashed into her mind all at once. She seemed to be wearing a blue hospital gown. “Mom” Sarah croaked. “Yes, Sara is that you” Dasha said with hope lighting up her brown eyes. Dasha and Sarah wrapped their arms around each other and did not let go for what seemed like a lifetime.
“Mom, how are you even here I thought you were” Dasha interrupted “ I will tell you later, but now we’ve got to go.” “Where?” Sarah said with confusion. “People are trying to find me. Right before the accident, I was planning to take you on a surprise trip to the place you and I had dreamed about….do you remember?” Sarah, remembered very well...they constantly talked about visiting Hawaii and tears filled her eyes. “I found the tickets in my bag at the hospital. We have to go and hope that we can have our tickets transferred to a flight leaving today” Dasha said persuasively. “But I can’t just leave. What about Clyde” “He will be here when you return!”, Dasha insisted.
The night faded into the early morning and soon Sarah and Dasha arrived in Maui..
The puffy white clouds spread across the horizon. The sun lit up the leaves in the palm trees, as Sarah and Dasha collapsed on sand.
“How are you here” Sarah said afraid of the answer. “I’m guessing nobody told you the whole story. The day you came to visit, I was already dead.” Sarah stared blankly in the eyes of her supposedly dead mother. “But how?” Sarah’s voice shook. “I received a gift, but, I’m afraid I’m over using it. I just had to see you once more, but now, I’m afraid I have to go.” said her Mother.
Sarah’s eyes melted into tiny eclipses in the sun revealing stolen pieces of sunlight. Dasha’s figure slowly began to fade, drifting away into the light breeze.
To be continued
3rd Place
Athena Vachtsevanos
North Hall Middle School
Hope
The golden morning sun crept through my crystal window and gave my patterned silk curtains such a stunning glow, that I was sure a being of the heavenly hosts had perched on my very windowsill. It was as if life itself was a pool of shear bliss that never ceased to flow. The place in which I dwelled was small, yet lively. We were truly a rich family, not in wealth, or materialistic things, but rich in joy and in love. I lived in utter happiness along with my beloved parents, my two little brothers, and three sisters. We were indeed the definition of a devoted family. Although my parents were often deployed to various nations, many of which I did not know due to certain security protocols, they always found time for their most treasured possessions, their children.
In mere moments, the light ceased to creep and began to pour into the heart of my room. I looked up, revelling in the radiance and warmth that surrounded me. I had a grand feeling of pure joy that midwinter morning. Nevertheless, where joy is present, tragedy can be right on its tail, and although I was unaware of it at the time, I was soon to be the victim of that tragedy. On that fateful day, I received news that my cherished parents had been captured by the enemy and had been executed.
So, over the course of about two minutes, I had gone from beloved daughter and sister, to orphan, and mother to my five siblings. All at once, I believed that life, with all of its joy, had ended for me. I was sure my woeful fate was forever sealed, and I no longer had the will to live. At that moment, my youngest sister pranced into the room. She was as lighthearted and untroubled as the wind. This startling occurrence rescued me from my mournful thoughts. At that instant, I knew that I was no longer a child with only frivolous matters to ponder over. I knew that I had a responsibility, no, I had five, and I was not about to abandon them because of my own selfish thoughts. After a few moments of shear haze, and confusion, I came to and remembered my mother’s soothing words, “Dearest Hope, I love you very much, but, if anything were to happen to your father and me, I need you do something for me. Alright sweetheart?”
“Of course, Mommy,” I had replied all of those years ago, oblivious to what she was truly referring to.
“I need you to lift the bottom of my jewelry box, and take the letter that will be waiting for you.” The memory was faint, yet vivid, as I attempted to picture my mother’s kind eyes and sweet face. I rushed to the box of black velvet and removed the bottom, revealing a note. It read;
Dear Hope,
Sweet girl, oh how we miss you. We wish we were there with you. The days are tiresome and our only comfort is that you, and your siblings are awaiting our return. Your smile is like the sun, bright beautiful, and unwavering. Please, dear child, do not hide it away, even in this time of distress. I have prayed time and time again, wholeheartedly, that this dreadful letter would never see the light of day. However, the Lord’s will shall be done. We suspected that the enemy would come after us, then come after you, and although it might be too late for us, you wonderful children should not be forced to meet the same fate. In order to retreat to safety, you must escape to your grandfather’s cabin. We are certain that the soldiers will not discover you there. Be safe, and pray for guidance.
All of our love,
Mom and Dad
My eyes began to flood with tears and my vision began to blur, however, I wiped the tears away, determined not to portray such emotions before my younger sister. “Hope,” squealed Faith. She was seven years old and had more energy in her tiny body than the entire family put together.
“Faith,” I urged, extending my arms for her to climb into. She clapped, grinning merrily as I wrapped her up in my loving grasp. “Call the others down here, we have to leave,” I managed to utter, slightly firm, yet still soft enough to let her know that I was not angered, merely sincere.
“Ok,” she replied. I was rather shocked that she did not question my notions as she bounded up the stairs and shouted to her siblings. They all filed down, evidently annoyed that I had interrupted their game.
“Alright everyone,” I spoke with a great show of enthusiasm in my voice. In a few moments, I had revealed at least part of the situation to my siblings. We then gathered together our most treasured belongings and set off. We walked silently, reminiscing on gleeful moments of the past.
It honestly felt as if we had been traveling for months when the daylight began to fade out of existence. I knew, from the moment we began, that the journey would not be effortless, however, I never imagined that it would be this exhausting. “Hope,” called Jacob, his voice soft and miserable, “I’m hungry.”
“Alright Jacob,” I replied, breaking apart a loaf of bread and handing him a sizable chunk.
“We need to find shelter,” I murmured for only myself to hear, for I knew that, although we were an earnest little bunch, we were no match for the bitter, frosty night that was soon to be upon us. At that moment, the swift fall of rain drops began to thunder down from the sky. I quivered, without shelter, I thought, we won't make it through the night. “Gather around everyone,” I beckoned with the utmost haste. The sleepy figures hurriedly scrambled in my direction. “Listen,” I said, “I know that you all are tired, but we have to make a shelter, and fast!” They nodded, shivering. “Christine, and Martha, I need you two to collect all of the wood you can find and bring it back to this spot. Can you do that for me girls?”
“Yes, we can,” they exclaimed as they rushed off to complete their task.
“Faith and Jacob, please collect leaves and rocks. Ok?”
“Alright,” they proclaimed, mimicking the forced enthusiasm that had been in the girls’ voice. Once the others had gone, I stole to our single bag of possessions and proceeded to withdraw a creamy ball of yarn and a pocket knife. After doing so, I bolted to the pile of sticks that had quickly accumulated. The rain continued to pour ceaselessly. Perhaps the rain was as much a blessing as it was a curse for had it not been for the ruthless bolts of lightning that often shot across the sky, my eyes would have failed me, and I would have been left to fend for myself in the merciless clutches of the darkness.
I took up four stones and four sturdy logs into my calloused hands, and although I was far from a builder, I proceeded to dig sizable holes for each stick. After I had completed that task, one by one, I drove them into the hard earth. “Now for the roof,” I murmured to myself, sensing a brisk chill that had begun to sweep ferociously from the east. With the utmost haste, I brought forth the yarn and skillfully wove the delicate leaves into a sheet of gold and crimson. “Alright everyone, pile in,” I hollered, for the violent sound of leaves rustling in the wind had begun to overtake all other serene sounds that dwelled in the wood. We huddled together and all secretly wondered if we would ever again see the brilliance of the morning sun. All at once, I heard a snap, I turned, half hesitant, and gazed out into the world beyond, only to find that the trunk of the magnificent Red Oak that had so loyally shaded us from the storm had broken in two. “Ahhhh” I shrieked, “Everybody out, now!” They each squirmed out of our little hut and bounded to the far side of the woods. What happened next I could not recall because after a tremendously loud “thud” that shook the earth with such sheer intensity, I fell to the ground and everything went black.
When I finally awoke, which seemed an eternity later, I was lying upon a bed of leaves. There were, it seemed, a thousand tender little faces gazing at my own. “Hope,” cried Faith, as she flung her wee little arms around my neck. “We…..we thought you had died,” she stammered as tears began to flood her forget-me-not eyes. I barely managed a smile, for the glistening world that lie before me was rather hazy, and my head was spinning relentlessly. Although I was weak, I was not helpless, and although I was perhaps not at my very best, I vowed that the wellbeing of my siblings was of far more importance than any of my own trials. Thus, I prayed to the Lord Almighty for guidance and strength as I urged my limp legs off of the frosty soil.
It seemed that my legs were not quite in sync with the rest of my body as I faltered through the bitter woods that mid-November morning.
“I don’t think I can go any farther,” wailed Martha, “it…...it’s so cold.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I uttered, “We are almost there.”
I have always been an honest child, however, it is with deep remorse that I tell you dear reader that that statement was not entirely true. For possibly, we were close to our destination, but I had very little hope that any such thing could be possible. We were on the verge of giving in to the brutal world that lie before us when we noticed a vague structure in the distance. I gazed at it, at first perhaps inattentive to what I was truly beholding, then, all at once it hit me, “There it is,” I breathed, wondering if we really had arrived, or if it was merely my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. “Is that the house,” questioned Christine, her voice blooming with such hope that I was rather inspired.
“Yes,” I whispered, as we began to sprint in the direction of the building. We ventured up the golden hill on which the little house lay when suddenly, we noticed something rather unusual, smoke roamed the sky near the large brick chimney. We stopped dead in our tracks, for we were unsure of what to do. Then the impossible occurred, two figures burst out of the charming little house and began to charge at us. We turned and ran, but something made me stop and look back. Whatever it was that summoned my curiosity, I am eternally grateful that it did, for when I spun around to survey the two shadows that continued to run after us, I realized who they were. “Mamma, Dad” I muttered.
“Hope!” they hollered. I rushed into their loving embrace, as did the rest of my family. I did not entirely understand how it occurred, nor did I need to, we were finally together, and that was all that mattered.
The golden morning sun crept through my crystal window and gave my patterned silk curtains such a stunning glow, that I was sure a being of the heavenly hosts had perched on my very windowsill. It was as if life itself was a pool of shear bliss that never ceased to flow. The place in which I dwelled was small, yet lively. We were truly a rich family, not in wealth, or materialistic things, but rich in joy and in love. I lived in utter happiness along with my beloved parents, my two little brothers, and three sisters. We were indeed the definition of a devoted family. Although my parents were often deployed to various nations, many of which I did not know due to certain security protocols, they always found time for their most treasured possessions, their children.
In mere moments, the light ceased to creep and began to pour into the heart of my room. I looked up, revelling in the radiance and warmth that surrounded me. I had a grand feeling of pure joy that midwinter morning. Nevertheless, where joy is present, tragedy can be right on its tail, and although I was unaware of it at the time, I was soon to be the victim of that tragedy. On that fateful day, I received news that my cherished parents had been captured by the enemy and had been executed.
So, over the course of about two minutes, I had gone from beloved daughter and sister, to orphan, and mother to my five siblings. All at once, I believed that life, with all of its joy, had ended for me. I was sure my woeful fate was forever sealed, and I no longer had the will to live. At that moment, my youngest sister pranced into the room. She was as lighthearted and untroubled as the wind. This startling occurrence rescued me from my mournful thoughts. At that instant, I knew that I was no longer a child with only frivolous matters to ponder over. I knew that I had a responsibility, no, I had five, and I was not about to abandon them because of my own selfish thoughts. After a few moments of shear haze, and confusion, I came to and remembered my mother’s soothing words, “Dearest Hope, I love you very much, but, if anything were to happen to your father and me, I need you do something for me. Alright sweetheart?”
“Of course, Mommy,” I had replied all of those years ago, oblivious to what she was truly referring to.
“I need you to lift the bottom of my jewelry box, and take the letter that will be waiting for you.” The memory was faint, yet vivid, as I attempted to picture my mother’s kind eyes and sweet face. I rushed to the box of black velvet and removed the bottom, revealing a note. It read;
Dear Hope,
Sweet girl, oh how we miss you. We wish we were there with you. The days are tiresome and our only comfort is that you, and your siblings are awaiting our return. Your smile is like the sun, bright beautiful, and unwavering. Please, dear child, do not hide it away, even in this time of distress. I have prayed time and time again, wholeheartedly, that this dreadful letter would never see the light of day. However, the Lord’s will shall be done. We suspected that the enemy would come after us, then come after you, and although it might be too late for us, you wonderful children should not be forced to meet the same fate. In order to retreat to safety, you must escape to your grandfather’s cabin. We are certain that the soldiers will not discover you there. Be safe, and pray for guidance.
All of our love,
Mom and Dad
My eyes began to flood with tears and my vision began to blur, however, I wiped the tears away, determined not to portray such emotions before my younger sister. “Hope,” squealed Faith. She was seven years old and had more energy in her tiny body than the entire family put together.
“Faith,” I urged, extending my arms for her to climb into. She clapped, grinning merrily as I wrapped her up in my loving grasp. “Call the others down here, we have to leave,” I managed to utter, slightly firm, yet still soft enough to let her know that I was not angered, merely sincere.
“Ok,” she replied. I was rather shocked that she did not question my notions as she bounded up the stairs and shouted to her siblings. They all filed down, evidently annoyed that I had interrupted their game.
“Alright everyone,” I spoke with a great show of enthusiasm in my voice. In a few moments, I had revealed at least part of the situation to my siblings. We then gathered together our most treasured belongings and set off. We walked silently, reminiscing on gleeful moments of the past.
It honestly felt as if we had been traveling for months when the daylight began to fade out of existence. I knew, from the moment we began, that the journey would not be effortless, however, I never imagined that it would be this exhausting. “Hope,” called Jacob, his voice soft and miserable, “I’m hungry.”
“Alright Jacob,” I replied, breaking apart a loaf of bread and handing him a sizable chunk.
“We need to find shelter,” I murmured for only myself to hear, for I knew that, although we were an earnest little bunch, we were no match for the bitter, frosty night that was soon to be upon us. At that moment, the swift fall of rain drops began to thunder down from the sky. I quivered, without shelter, I thought, we won't make it through the night. “Gather around everyone,” I beckoned with the utmost haste. The sleepy figures hurriedly scrambled in my direction. “Listen,” I said, “I know that you all are tired, but we have to make a shelter, and fast!” They nodded, shivering. “Christine, and Martha, I need you two to collect all of the wood you can find and bring it back to this spot. Can you do that for me girls?”
“Yes, we can,” they exclaimed as they rushed off to complete their task.
“Faith and Jacob, please collect leaves and rocks. Ok?”
“Alright,” they proclaimed, mimicking the forced enthusiasm that had been in the girls’ voice. Once the others had gone, I stole to our single bag of possessions and proceeded to withdraw a creamy ball of yarn and a pocket knife. After doing so, I bolted to the pile of sticks that had quickly accumulated. The rain continued to pour ceaselessly. Perhaps the rain was as much a blessing as it was a curse for had it not been for the ruthless bolts of lightning that often shot across the sky, my eyes would have failed me, and I would have been left to fend for myself in the merciless clutches of the darkness.
I took up four stones and four sturdy logs into my calloused hands, and although I was far from a builder, I proceeded to dig sizable holes for each stick. After I had completed that task, one by one, I drove them into the hard earth. “Now for the roof,” I murmured to myself, sensing a brisk chill that had begun to sweep ferociously from the east. With the utmost haste, I brought forth the yarn and skillfully wove the delicate leaves into a sheet of gold and crimson. “Alright everyone, pile in,” I hollered, for the violent sound of leaves rustling in the wind had begun to overtake all other serene sounds that dwelled in the wood. We huddled together and all secretly wondered if we would ever again see the brilliance of the morning sun. All at once, I heard a snap, I turned, half hesitant, and gazed out into the world beyond, only to find that the trunk of the magnificent Red Oak that had so loyally shaded us from the storm had broken in two. “Ahhhh” I shrieked, “Everybody out, now!” They each squirmed out of our little hut and bounded to the far side of the woods. What happened next I could not recall because after a tremendously loud “thud” that shook the earth with such sheer intensity, I fell to the ground and everything went black.
When I finally awoke, which seemed an eternity later, I was lying upon a bed of leaves. There were, it seemed, a thousand tender little faces gazing at my own. “Hope,” cried Faith, as she flung her wee little arms around my neck. “We…..we thought you had died,” she stammered as tears began to flood her forget-me-not eyes. I barely managed a smile, for the glistening world that lie before me was rather hazy, and my head was spinning relentlessly. Although I was weak, I was not helpless, and although I was perhaps not at my very best, I vowed that the wellbeing of my siblings was of far more importance than any of my own trials. Thus, I prayed to the Lord Almighty for guidance and strength as I urged my limp legs off of the frosty soil.
It seemed that my legs were not quite in sync with the rest of my body as I faltered through the bitter woods that mid-November morning.
“I don’t think I can go any farther,” wailed Martha, “it…...it’s so cold.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I uttered, “We are almost there.”
I have always been an honest child, however, it is with deep remorse that I tell you dear reader that that statement was not entirely true. For possibly, we were close to our destination, but I had very little hope that any such thing could be possible. We were on the verge of giving in to the brutal world that lie before us when we noticed a vague structure in the distance. I gazed at it, at first perhaps inattentive to what I was truly beholding, then, all at once it hit me, “There it is,” I breathed, wondering if we really had arrived, or if it was merely my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. “Is that the house,” questioned Christine, her voice blooming with such hope that I was rather inspired.
“Yes,” I whispered, as we began to sprint in the direction of the building. We ventured up the golden hill on which the little house lay when suddenly, we noticed something rather unusual, smoke roamed the sky near the large brick chimney. We stopped dead in our tracks, for we were unsure of what to do. Then the impossible occurred, two figures burst out of the charming little house and began to charge at us. We turned and ran, but something made me stop and look back. Whatever it was that summoned my curiosity, I am eternally grateful that it did, for when I spun around to survey the two shadows that continued to run after us, I realized who they were. “Mamma, Dad” I muttered.
“Hope!” they hollered. I rushed into their loving embrace, as did the rest of my family. I did not entirely understand how it occurred, nor did I need to, we were finally together, and that was all that mattered.