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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Tragedy is easy to write about. Everyone can connect to it and writers can always describe it perfectly. I am only 15 years old. I have had a few rough times, but I am able to say that I have never had a true tumultuous time. There is just one event that I would like to share. In the spring of 201...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    I remember the ships. Fighting against the surf. Dark green battling blue. The endless pounding. The motor, a constant noise in the background. The commander shouted orders, but I couldn't hear them. I already knew what we were getting ourselves into anyway. We were merely the first wave ...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Empty blackness clouds my view Unreasonable fear fills my heart Because the Boogeyman is alive...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I was a curious and fun-loving child. I believed that I would never grow up. I had many animals around me. I saw lots of caterpillars in the Spring but none in Winter. I always heard Disco playing while Mommy cleaned. I loved visiting Nana Nora, my neighbor. I wanted to race Daddy's racec...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I wasn't told. I had no clue. I wasn't even aware of you My tears were shed But now they're done Because you touched almost everyone I wasn't sure what to say No one felt like I did It was my saddest day Yet only hours after crying Feeling depressed, lonely, dyi...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    The International Baccalaureate (IB) program is a prestigious curriculum that strives to make world leaders and worldwide connections. At least, that’s what their mission statement says. For my last year in middle school, I was in this program and I was able to get a taste of what it would be like...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Smoke words robbed me of the innocence I had. Blind was I, to her fake smile, her obnoxious laughter. So consumed with the thought of what I wanted, needed. I made that smile my whole universe. Now I rot within this shell called skin. And I weep for what I never had. For what daughter can truly...
  • Hot Topics > Bullying
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    January A girl comes home to an empty house. Her parents are out again. She heats up food in the microwave. She ignores the many expensive items that surround her. She goes to her room with her food. She does her homework and goes to bed. February A boy leans against a window on a bus. He repea...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    This could be the last of all the rides we take. Let’s go out with a bang. Hold on tight. There's no looking back, never. Why should we listen to their rules? Why acknowledge their messages? You only live forever in the lights you make. As children, we always said That you can only un...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The nine year old girl was absolutely enchanted with the world that she had just read about. One with a boy named Harry Potter and a school called Hogwarts where real magic was taught. Not taking rabbits out of hats, but levitating things, turning rats into cups, brewing potions that could make you ...
  • Fiction > Scripts & Plays
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    (Torment drags Alfonzo into interrogation room) Torment: Now you sit still. I’ll be back in after I get my knife. (Laughs as she exits) Alfonzo: (Twitches with weird noises) (Old Man’s Ghost appears) Old Man: Tell the truth! Alfonzo: AHHHHHH!!!!! (Torment comes back) Torment: What’s goi...
  • Nonfiction > Academic
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    In The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, George B. Wilson is the poor mechanic who lives in the valley of ashes and with his wife, Myrtle. She was his master, his controller, and his life. Was he in love with her? No, he was just glad to have someone that depended on him. When he discovered that ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It was early morning on October 21. It was a Saturday. A race day. Ken Myers, Gil Cash, Charlie Blubaugh, and his wife Mary, and a few others were helping to set up for Huntersville’s race. Cones divided the street. Tires were put up for crash safety. The ramps and scales were set and ready for th...
  • Nonfiction > Sports
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    What would you do if you lost one of your legs? Get crutches? Pity yourself? Or get a new limb. Oscar Pistorius, Olympic sprinter, lost both of his legs when he was a baby. He runs on carbon fiber blades, from which he gets his nickname Blade Runner, that are designed like a cheetah’s hind legs. I...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    You do not know why you are down here? Why there is no light? Why your father’s friend shackled you here? Well I’ll tell you my story. Maybe it’ll make more sense to you. “Everything was bright. The colors, the food, the people, even the smells could be called bright. It was carnival. The t...
  • Fiction > Action-Adventure
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    Dark’s the name. Drew Dark. To most people, the name announces a mysterious boy with black hair and pale skin that comes and goes. And leaves a path of destruction in his wake. I hate what I am. What he made me. I destroy people’s lives to live. I’m a parasite of the worst kind. I wasn’t ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    It was seven o’clock on the morning. We’d done everything that we could to my six foot long super stock car. I had buffed the axels with sandpaper. I’d stretched all week, and the car was as fast as we could make it. I’d even gone down the hill a few times on the days I was with my dad to ge...
  • Hot Topics > Environment
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    You look out the window of the house that you just moved into a few weeks back. Outside is a brand new development with many people who have just moved, like you. You look at your front lawn. It’s flooded with dirty water for the third time this week. “If only there was some way to get rid of th...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    They glide over Brown Mountain. Appearing, and then disappearing in one place. Reappearing in another. Dancing an eerie dance that fills the night sky with beauty. What are those lights? What could they be? Some people say swamp gases. But in the mountains? Some people say reflected headlights. But ...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    I was sitting at my desk. Typing useless information like always. Thinking thoughts like always. This was my always. "K, I need to see you in my office." My boss's voice rang on the intercom. He called me K. Good. I stood up and walked into his over-paid-for office. "Yes bos...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    I remember the terror. The pure fear I felt. The confusion came first. On the bus that I was leaving in. Waving goodbye to my parents. Then watching as their eyes started to glow red under the full moon a the bus took me away. It broke down in the middle of the woods. Then they all changed. The gir...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    “Where do I start? So much to explain. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I’ll tell you just as Sam told me in the hospital. Then maybe, you’ll be able to get me out of here.” “It’s dark. Impossibly dark. There is nothing, no family, no friends, just nothingness. Just me and Darknes...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Why shouldn’t you be My Unintended? Choose to Live life extended. First, there was the one Who challenged dreams and balance. He was never you. I’ll be there as soon As I can, but I’m busy Mending broken life. Someday you’ll see, you’re My best mistake, my only Unint...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    The little velvet moose sits upon the floor His silent tears glisten on his brown fur. Nothing the same since I walked out the door. Now he sits on the floor, never to stir. I can’t tell the moose of my lasting love. Or of the new nightmares and the new friend Nor strange thoughts that hav...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I was by the window Thinking. When my younger sister told me “I want to be a poet like you when I grow up” “No” I said “You will not be a poet” Why sissy?” “Because it’s a sweet poison, It’s wonderful at first, sweet as chocolate Then you want perfection You strugg...

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