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Washington High School students are writers, creatives, and storytellers.
Our goal is to bring their words to you online as a source of inspiration, reflection, and insight.
Below are submissions received by Washington High School students inspired by our 2025 Spring Writing Challenge theme, "Catch the Light".
Painting by Walker Selby, WHS Junior
Without Fail
Poem by Sandy Castillo Miranda, WHS Senior and
Major Contributor to Pam Pack Literary Arts
Every day the sun comes up, even after a cloudy day.
Even when a horrible storm reaps havoc,
When destruction is the only thing that can be found.
Through the thick and dark clouds, the sun will shine.
Without fail, the sun is there, even when the earth turns away from it.
She waits patiently, never wavering,
Until the earth shows its face again,
So her rays can kiss the earth's imperfections.
Even when the sun goes down,
When the night's darkness engulfs the world,
Even through the cold and cruel night,
When she cannot be seen—
She still finds a way to offer light.
Her warmth shines through the moon,
A soft reflection,
A quiet reminder that she is still there.
She reaches for the earth even through the guise of the moon,
Just to offer comfort in the dark.
Every day the sun will rise, without fail,
To hug the earth in her warm embrace.
Her rays stretch over the earth's rough terrain,
Illuminating the winding path,
making sure it is safe from harm through her loving touch.
And only now do I understand -
She was never just a light in the sky.
She was the steady presence behind every dawn,
The warmth that found me even in my darkest hours
The one who rose, again and again,
Without ever needing to be asked.
A love that can never truly fade,
The kind that's known by the person I call "mother.”
Pen and Pencil Sketch by Victoria Hennasey
"Catch The Light"
Personal Narrative by Victoria Hennasey, WHS Senior
From the moment I first became aware of my existence, life felt like nothing but a dream, as if I were drifting along, rather than living. Nothing seemed to feel real. I moved along, as if I were a mere passenger in the vessel I call my own. Each day was blurred and slipped through my fingers like grains of sand that I could not grasp.
People spoke, but the meaning of their words never seemed to reach me. I laughed like I was supposed to, spoke when I needed to, but my words never carried the same meaning as others. I felt my words (when I did speak) were lost in a void that would never contribute to anything, as if I were experiencing a play I was not cast in.
Most nights, I found myself sitting by the bedroom window, staring through the transparency. My mind blank. The world outside rushing past. Cars flying by in a blur, and people's lives unfolding quickly in front of me. But, that was not what held my gaze; it was The Light.
The sun, ascending towards the horizon, shone like a candle flickering in the dark; the vivid colors embedded into my mind. Through the glass, it beamed. The heat caressed my face with golden color, like a gentle embrace. The sun seemed to be the only thing that could pull me out of the haze.
I finally felt as if I were real. Like, I could finally feel. I reached out, as if I tried to catch the light, my fingers pressed against the cold glass, contrasting the warm sun. Despite the barrier between the sunset, I felt a sense of hope to experience life like a normal human being.
The Happiest Place on Earth
Personal Narrative by Janina Boomer, WHS Senior and Major Contributor to Pam Pack Literary Arts
My brain wanders through eras of my life that I had no idea would slip away so quickly. The joyous, the not so pleasant, and the sudden, I stumble upon a memory that I can vividly recall forward and backward. A memory so heartwarming and emotional that I have no choice but to...
It's a hot, summer day in Washington, NC, and the birds are tweeting up a storm. I sit on my unicorn-covered bed and watch slime videos on my mom’s phone. I know I'm supposed to be in school today, but my mom is letting me stay home because my sister, Quanitra, is leaving to go to college, and I get to be here to support her during her departure back to Shaw University.
Today will consist of getting ice cream, going to my cousin's house for a bit, and visiting my grandma right before my she heads back to Shaw. It sort of feels unusual not attending school today, but it really doesn't phase me like I thought it would. I get to enjoy the scent of vanilla scented candles and air conditioning that is refreshing to the skin and mind. A huge contrast from the piercing heat of the outside world and the noise of the classroom.
It's about midday and I've been watching slime videos for a while when my sister calls up to me from downstairs and says, “Sis, do you want anything from the store?”
My face lights up, and I run towards the top of the staircase and sing out the words “Yes, a Snickers bar and Reese's Cup!” To my dismay, she responds with “No, only one, Nina.”
I shed an invisible tear, but it is far from surprising because she’s always talking about how important it is to be healthy. I think to myself, “How is eating more than one piece of candy damaging?”.
“I’ll do the Reese’s cup,” I say. “But you gotta get me a Sprite with that.”
I hear her open the door, and she walks out with the words, “Water. I’ll be back shortly.”
I pout but head across my carpeted floor hall into my room. I close the door and leap into the sky like a bird being pushed into its nest and plop right onto my bouncy unicorn-covered bed.
After a few minutes, she returns, and beeps the horn, signaling she’s arrived with the goods. My mom has been in her room doing her hair, getting ready for what appears to be some special occasion. She normally only does this if A. she's going somewhere special or B. she’s about to be video recorded. I think to myself for a second, then shrug off the thought of us going to a fancy restaurant in Raleigh. The only thought I am left with is why would my mom be fixing herself up if we were just going to see family?
I ran downstairs and then out the door into the bright and sunny day, exuberant as I know every step I take is a step closer to my sweet and precious candy. I start salivating at the very thought of the peanut butter and chocolate stimulating my taste buds. After subconsciously snatching the bag of candy and bottle of water from my sister, I go back inside, grab the TV remote and turn the channel to PBS Kids. After a few minutes, I doze off for about five minutes, then wake back up to the sound of the tv singing “ everyday when you’re walking down the street.”
At this point, both my sister and mom are outside doing something. I can't quite make out what's going on outside, and I'd be lying if I said I knew what they were doing. I know time is running out for my sister to leave to go back to college, and they might be about to send her off now. My mood changes, and I’m feeling somber. Our time together slipped away, and tomorrow I’ll have to walk right back into school and come back home without her here.
It's just now starting to hit me that she'll be leaving for longer than a few hours or days. After running in, she sprints upstairs and then brings her suitcase downstairs. From the couch, I watch her bring more things down the stairs, which makes my gloom progressively more noticeable. All I can think at this point is no more sharing a room, no more of her making me cereal, no more singing contests, and most importantly, no more hugs. My sister runs back up the stairs, and I hear a knock on the door.
She yells from upstairs, “Don't open the door! I'll get it.”
All of a sudden, I start to hear what sounds like several people giggling outside my front door, followed by loads of whispering.
And then, my sister yells from upstairs, “Are you ready? They're here!”
I'm lost, anxious, confused, nervous, and I have no idea why I can't answer the door, and have no idea who she’s talking about when we weren't expecting company. So I just sit on my comfortable couch waiting for something to happen. It is, unfortunately, the only comforting thing at this moment. Next thing I know, I'm hearing footsteps running down the stairs, and continuous knocks on the door. The footsteps belong to my sister and to my mom. My sister rushes to open the front door and BAM! It's my grandmother, my two aunts, and a few of my cousins sitting in the doorway. Right there before me, each of them stands side by side smiling.
What are they doing here?
They see themselves inside, and my sister hands me an envelope with a note inside. Heart racing, hands shaking, and struggling to get it open. Suddenly, I rip off the tape and gain access to the note. I take a deep breath and read it out loud. It reads,
Dear Janina,
You've been very respectful and have been making marvelous grades. So, we decided to give you a break from school and take you to the happiest place on earth, “Magic Kingdom”!
I shed a tear; this time it's a real one. Cameras are everywhere, nearly blinding me with their flashes. But in this moment, I am in shock and beyond thrilled to spend more time with the people who make me the happiest at the happiest place on earth.
From a Fan’s Perspective:
Why Rhea Ripley is an Amazing Influence on Teens
Excerpt from a Work in Progress by Lailee Daughton, WHS Junior and Member of Pam Pack Writers Group
I'm "fixin'" to tell y’all why a particular female wrestler is my favorite and how she inspired me. Her name: Rhea Ripley. She is important to so many young teens, young adults, and kids. Her story needs to be told from a fan’s perspective concerning what she has done for the legions of wrestling enthusiasts who follow her. People look up to her. She has inspired so many high school teens and helped some get through mental health battles. Including me.
I am obsessed with this female wrestler because her advocacy to accept oneself positively impacted me on so many different levels. Not many people (before I started watching this wrestler) knew the "real me" because I kept the "real me" away from everyone. After all, I thought most people would bully me if I acted like the "real me". I was like, "Wow, she is built like me, and doesn't let people bring her down! And she acts a lot like I do!"
I don't think people understand how many teens and young adults have been bullied for similar things, like she was bullied for as a kid. For example, she was bullied because she didn't look feminine enough in her shoulders, and people said she had more masculine than feminine traits. I can relate to her because throughout middle school, I was bullied for this same issue, and it got my mental health down a lot, to where I had to tell myself I'm worth something.
While I was going through the stages of my mental health problems, I discovered Rhea, who, unannounced to her, helped me get through some difficult times. Not only that, she made a huge wrestling fan out of me. She has inspired me and a bunch of other teens to find ourselves and be comfortable in our skin because, at the end of the day, we should take pride in ourselves.
Google Images
Google Images
Live in the Light
(inspired by Grace & the Ghost the musical)
Poem by Janaia Burton, WHS Senior and
Major Contributor to Pam Pack LIterary Arts
It all starts with a feeling.
A feeling of darkness,
a feeling of living in the shadows.
Stuck in a mental abyss
my head cannot unravel.
My head spins
and spins
like a broken merry-go-round.
It keeps spinning,
and spinning,
And spinning.
Until, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
A sudden feeling of warmth,
Am I scared?
No.
I find comfort in this touch.
This touch takes me out of the shadows I have been trapped in so long,
It lifts me out of the abyss that I was sure I would be forever unable to escape.
This feeling never felt before
brings me into the light,
and I see ahead of me for the first time.
The light ahead of me;
it only gets brighter,
And brighter!
I never expected this light.
Not with all of the thoughts running through my head.
That same hand that has warmed my soul, calmed my body,
and relaxed my head,
always told me to push.
To live in the light,
because you never know
when the light can go out.
So, now here I am,
living in the light
I never thought existed.
Living in the light
that I once resisted.
“Enjoy the Little Things”
Short Story by Marlene Zenil Lopez, WHS Junior
I held up a photo of a small lady with medium gray hair wearing a long, light yellow dress with a daisy print; to her left is a man with short gray hair with a hint of black. He is wearing a light yellow short-sleeved shirt and dark blue jeans, his arm wrapped around the woman's waist.
The couple in the photo is my parents. They’re smiling, but you can see sadness in their eyes, which was surprising because it was a special, sentimental moment in their life.
They wanted me to go with them, but I went out with friends instead because I always saw my parents. I mean, it couldn’t have been that important anyway, right?
I remember that day like it was yesterday. My mom had made me breakfast, and my dad wanted me to go out with them for family time. But I rejected the invite since I already had plans with my friends, which I had told them about a few days ago. My dad was eager for me to go, so I stood up and told him "No!" once more and left to go to school. Before I left, my dad said, “You should reconsider; I mean your friends are young, but me and your mother aren’t, so you should enjoy the little things, plus we need to tell you something important.” I brushed off his words and left for school.
When I got to school, I talked with my friends about the fun we were going to have after school. School was always boring to me. My parents always encouraged me to become a doctor or nurse to help sick patients, "such a boring job and too much work," I would say back to them. When I got home, my parents had left me a small note:
Be home in a few hours. We left some snacks and cash on the kitchen counter if you need it. Stay safe, and we love you very much!
-Mom and Dad
They always babied me, which I hated because I was growing older. I didn’t need their "love" all the time. I shook my head and headed upstairs to get ready to go out with my friends. After I was done getting ready, I met up with my friends. I turned my phone on silent so no one would bother me.
A stranger passed by us and I overheard them say, "There was a terrible car accident earlier and two people were killed."
Watercolor Painting by Yeilynn Maldanado Sierra, WHS Junior
My gut churned. Told me to call my parents to make sure they were okay, but I told myself they would never be out this late anyway. I turned my attention back to my friends.
After a fun evening of laughing and talking with my buddies, I got home around ten p.m. When I went inside the house was dark and silent. I checked my phone and saw multiple phone calls from my parents. It was then I remembered the stranger mentioning the car accident.
My mind went blank.
I called out for my parents. Instead of hearing their sweet, welcoming voices, a stern voice of a police officer echoed from another room and asked, "Who are you?"
I stuttered, shocked to see this stranger in my home, and said, "I’m their daughter."
He was silent for a minute, then solemnly said, "Your parents were in a car accident. You need to go to the hospital as soon as possible."
I rushed to the hospital, and was led to my parents. Both lying in a beds helpless, their eyes closed. A nurse gently approached and told me my parents had life-threatening injuries. The nurse also added that my father had been diagnosed with a long-term illness a few months ago, which was causing additional problems in life-saving measures due to the internal injuries he sustained. My heart sank. Everything became so clear. I now realize why they wanted to do well in school, and were so bent on me becoming a doctor or a nurse. My dad told me to reconsider spending time with them so I could "enjoy the little things," and why they babied me so much when I didn’t need it anymore. My parents passed away that day, along with a part of myself.
Ten years later, I sit in reflection after multiple foster care homes, and fighting hard for my goals. At 25, I can proudly say, I graduated from medical school and became a doctor to help sick patients, especially those suffering from life-threatening illnesses. I have a loving husband and three kids. I sit at my home office desk while my husband is outside playing with our kids. I gaze at the last picture my parents ever took together. On the back of the picture written in permanent marker is a single sentence that I will cherish forever:
We love you very much!
Mom and Dad
As I wipe my tears away, I mutter to myself, “Enjoy the little things.”
Cold
Creative Essay by Janina Boomer, WHS Senior and Major Contributor to Pam Pack Literary Arts
Is waiting worth bearing the shivering each gust of wind casts upon the earthly temple that briefly holds my heart, brain, and soul ?
Why must I bear the unwavering consistency
of the winds arising from the season I dread most? Why must I bear the consequences of the Earth tilting away from the sun?
My dearest bright orb of exceptional warmth,
we shall reunite when the earth spins me back around to you.
My dearest summer, how I long for your warmth. Why must I be burdened with the trait of longing and asking for things far beyond my reach?
I am taken aback discovering that in my mind there exists a striking ambivalence in a manner I am unable to entirely comprehend. Where there exists resentment and bewilderment, there is also an uncanny yet abundant commiseration for those deprived of the opportunity to be adequately provisioned. Moreover, my complaints know not the gravity of the weight that all those who came before me, had to endure.
How am I to pity myself when my condition isn't the worst? Alas, my queries leap out once more, but I digress.
No number of tears will ever amount to those who were and are at present bound to mishap and misfortunate circumstances. I know very little affliction, yet I occasionally dwell on past occurrences like they are attached to me, analogous to how I am attached to my earthly temple.
Who am I but a soul with an inquisitive eye, spectating and observing everything I can, in a small interval of time.
It's gratingly offensive how little I am able to do for a considerable amount of people with a limited amount of time allotted to me. I am able to count to 100, but will I see it? My thoughts aren't the only ones being provoked.
My dusks, my twilights, and my dawns, are as well.
Washington High School 400 Slatestone Road Washington, NC 27889
Washington High School 400 Slatestone Road Washington, NC 27889
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