BY EMMA X.
BY JAMES W.
Just A Day
Terrius raced down the narrow passage towards the red guard tower. As he approached, the giant searchlight shone right over his slim body, searing his eyes. A huge ion blaster was being charged right at him. Terrius stared at the pulsating blue sphere being generated before it began to shrink. The dark menacing walls cast ominous shadows on the deadly guard tower. Terrius was a night watcher, one of the imperial troops that watched as spies for the Lord, who ruled the land of Veydo. The gates slowly creaked open as he walked into the dark and pitch-black building behind the tower, the town hall of the city of Vaivor.
A year ago, the Lord lead his troops, or as he called it, his Knils, to overthrow the capital and literally, overthrew the dying king. The king’s daughter and only heir, a young girl with flowing black hair called Ellysa, managed to escape to the forest of Veils, the only place untouched by the Empire. A thick and thorny coat of vines always covered the forest. Hacking them away was not an option because as soon as the first vine was hacked, it spewed pitch-black liquid, which melted anything it touched, causing panic among the Knils. How the princess got into the forest remains a mystery.
BY EMERSON W.
There is a school; a school that many students go to. Every day it is the same routine, every child went to the same class.
It was 3010; the school was like a giant robot, though the children were humans.
The teacher would teach the children, making sure they were listening. And the board would draw on itself, tracing every detail taught.
The clock would announce the time every hour, also disturbing the class quite a bit.
And the door would open itself when it was time to go, making sure that they all left.
The lockers would pack their bags, reminding them about there homework before they left.
But there was one room, a room that no one would go into. Continue reading “A Hidden Room”
BY CHARLIE B.
Darkness consumed everything but the street they lit, as they stared down at the vacant avenue. They stood as lifelessly still as always, the only difference being that one was not playing its part in lighting the walkway. Every last one of the citizens was now shut away in their houses, whether it was a frightened child that had sprinted to the comfort of his or her house, or an adult that had driven home quickly, late because of rush hour traffic. They were all quiet now, resting until the sun rose again. Not a particularly unusual evening, it seemed. Someone would probably notice the one that didn’t light anymore, its need to be replaced. Someone would probably notice tomorrow night, and soon enough it would again light the way same as the rest of them. But until then, that part of the walkway where the children play and draw with chalk, were adults jog by and walk their dogs, were the people ride their bikes, heading toward the green in the town square, will remain dark and lifeless.
There was now no sign of life anywhere throughout the town. The moon and the stars hid behind a thick layer of dark clouds. The faint, barely audible sound of soft rain could be heard growing, into a slightly louder, repetitive tapping. One of them glared into the window of the house it was nearest to, at the ancient grandfather clock inside. It could hear the soft tick, tock of the pendulum encased in wood and glass. If only it could see around the reflection of the tall, thin, dark form with a head of glass and metal, the reflection that always remained perfectly aligned with it, it would notice that the clock’s longer and narrower hand was pointing directly upward, as was the other. Then came the tones that marked the hour, enthusiastically emitting from the clock. It was proclaiming the time as loud as it could, to make sure everyone around heard. The one nearest the house could never begin to understand how the people in the house were not wakened. The noise seemed intolerably noisy to it, and there was a wall between them! The one nearest the house pondered this night after night, day after day. It wondered if it would ever comprehend how it functioned.
It decided to not think about that right now. It glanced around, up the road toward South Hayden Parkway, the street branching off of theirs. It always wished for something more than just creating light so people may see at night. It wanted to be able to move, explore, maybe even adventure. The others disregarded him for this. They did what they were created to do, never even imagining questioning why they must. In exactly five hours and thirty-four minutes, they would cease to light the path, for there would be no need. Mother nature would then make this unnecessary by simply raising the sun. And the lampposts would dutifully dim their lights to nonexistence, for that was their only true purpose.
BY GRACE L.
On a plane, voices echoed. Welcome aboard! The announcement was met with silence. The curtains were lifted, and each window displayed a stunning view of the pale lavender mountains in dawn. Breakfast will be served in approximately ten minutes after takeoff. Please fasten you seatbelts. Thank you. There was no clicking, as there were no seatbelts being buckled. The engine roared to life, and rubber tires screeched again concrete, rolling forwards and rising, slowly, but surely, hoisting itself from the ground. The view from the windows changed drastically as it rose, and a barren, blackened landscape of a once thriving cornfield filled the space of glass. Music started, a lively melody of twists and turns that filled the empty seats and clamored onto the wall.
BY FELICIA L.
In the dance room, the music kept playing. In the nursery, the toys lay there silent as if trying to avoid the mean beasts. In the main room, the juice machine clinked non-stop away. A few minutes later, the staff rooms lightened up, and the thick layers of sheets unfolded themselves. The showers in the staff area filled with fresh hot water. But no one bathed in there, and there was absolute no sounds of doors opening and closing. When it was 5:30, 3 cups of juice popped out into the staff room. No one picked up the juice, it sat there still like a statue.
BY CHLOE H.
In every hallway, the voices of all the clocks sounded in unison, Seven o’clock, doors unlock, seven o’clock. The voices echoed through the empty school, but there was no response. The voices repeated this three more times.
The red lights on the monitors in front of the school turned green, waiting silently for the students to arrive and scan their eyes for the front doors to spring open.
“Today is January 9, 2034,” said a voice within the main entrance, issuing in a monotone voice from the walls, “in the city of Beijing, China.” Continue reading “A School without Students”