Creative Corner

Attention, creative writers! Every month, Creative Corner hosts a contest for the highlighted writer of the month! Submit your writing to Creative Corner and you will be immediately entered to win a journal.

Calling all creative writers!

Welcome to Creative Corner, a space for readers to write in The Scroll without having to be journalists! The deadline this month is April 22, 2026.

How to participate:

Below is a set of prompts for styles of writing beyond journalism. The idea is that you can create some kind of creative writing piece inspired by one of the prompts, but your entry does not have to be prompt-based. You can submit any piece of writing you would like to share! All submissions should be school-appropriate. You can also suggest prompts to be featured in the next issue.

Email your submissions to j.norton@d7apps.gp.k12.or.us to be featured in the column! You are more than welcome to submit anonymously or put your name on your piece. Please just specify when emailing me. Thanks!

prompt suggestions for the May issue:

May is the month when new life blossoms and the warm springtime starts. I would love to hear some prompts about this time of year.

You might choose to write about:

Write a childhood memory about your mom.
Write from the point of view of an animal in the springtime
Memorial Day is taking place next month. Write a story about a war hero.
National Nurse's Day is on May 6. Write a story about someone in the medical field.

Down Love: Page 7

By: JJ Norton

“Now, don’t act like I broke your favorite necklace.” Realynn's voice drips sarcastically.

I finally snap out of it and pull away, turning to her with my back against the stable door. “Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what, little birdie?”

I roll my eyes. “You know what.”

“Why? Are you falling for me?”

I don't deny it and push her away. “You know what you are doing. I won’t play your games.”

She grins, knowing it's working.

“You're so frustrating, Realynn!”

“You love it--”

I swat at her. “Shut up! What do you even want for me?!” I say, trying not to scream at the top of my lungs.

Realynn looks me in the eyes and then gets serious. “I want to help you escape and go with you.”

I'm shocked. “Why?”

She sighs, rubbing her face. “So I don’t have to marry off. I will teach you how to ride a horse. That one doesn’t even like me, even though it's mine.”

I look at the horse. “It likes me, though?” I say petting the horse's neck.

“Fine, I will help you ride him tomorrow afternoon, after lunch.” Then, she disappears, just as she had appeared out of nowhere in the first place.

When I get back to my room, I shut the door behind me. I am glad none of the other girls or the butler noticed I was gone. The room is dark except for small, lit candles, plus the moonlight coming through the curtains. I slip off the dress, feeling the coldness of the room. I want to request a maid to light a fire, but it's late. I then realize the balcony door is open, causing cold air. I slip into a nightgown, walk over to the door and shut it. I don’t remember opening the door, but I brush it off as not a big deal. I slip into bed, and then something stabs me. I scramble out of bed, heart pounding. I touch my thigh and notice a piece of glass in it. I push the blankets away and my eyes don’t believe what I see. I see shards of glass all over with a note:

STAY AWAY FROM THEM, YOU NASTY VILLAGE RAT

I wince, knowing it could have been worse. I quickly go to the bathroom and look for something to get the glass out of my thigh. I find a small wash towel and cover my hand with it. Reaching around the back of my thigh, I pull and cover my mouth with my other hand. It's deeper than I thought it would be. Once it's out, I cover the wound with a towel and call for a maid to bring bandages. Sliding to the floor, all I think about is how this is going to be more difficult than I thought.

“Lady Jayla?” a maid calls outside my room.

I call out, "Come into the bathroom!" I hear soft footsteps and a gasp. I know how it looks with the blood dripping all around my leg and onto the floor.

The maid rushes to me quickly, kneeling by me. “Oh my! Shouldn’t you call for the royals?” She says, all too fast, nearly dropping the bandages into the pile of blood forming.

I shake my head as she wraps up my bandages. “No, just clean the bed and leave,” I say quietly.

...To be continued in Chapter 2

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