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. Congratulations to last month's winner, chosen by Mrs. Tyrrell: JJ Norton
This month: Page of JJ Norton's book, A chapter of Shaylin P. book, and a short story by Clara Sunborn.
Below is a set of prompts for different 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 it doesn't have to be. 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.
December is the month of coziness and celebration. I would love to hear some prompts about this time of year.
You might choose to write about:
Write a funny, creative story about flowers and the beginning of spring.
Write something you want to do on April 1st.
What is your favorite comedy story?
Tell me your favorite poem about the cycle of life.
Chapter 1 (Autum)
War was upon us now.
It was only a matter of time before our enemies attacked us. The ones with sharp claws, sharp teeth, and a thirst for our destruction and capture. The ones that would never stop coming. Our enemies were the Doghounds.
Humans and dogs melded together to create an elite force bent on making us like them. Our system helps us fight back so that we aren’t all converted. Our system is the MoonFang Covenant, a promise between the fullblood wolves and humans. In the Covenant, we vow to protect the other against these beasts that threaten us both. This Covenant was established long before I was born, and will go on forever.
My name is Autum, and I defend Wolfburg, the home of the humans and the wolves. My best friend, Kellan, took me in when my parents were killed, or lost, for I have no memory of what happened to them. Now he is gone, too. Captured and converted into one of the beasts that we strive to kill, all because I had failed to help him when he needed me most.
The day he was taken was the first time the Doghounds sent three times as many as they usually sent. We were surrounded…I couldn’t save him…
“Autum!” A voice shouts at me.
I swivel my head to locate the familiar voice, all while keeping an eye on the Doghounds that have circled me, and spot Kellan. He is bringing his sword down on a Doghound, and spinning around to swipe at an approaching one.
I look around in dismay as I see everyone, with overwhelming odds. I jab my sword into the chest of a Doghound and, using the limp body, I swing in a circle, knocking the others backwards. While they are stunned, I rush over to Kellan and swing my sword at a Doghound approaching his blind side.
He thanks me, and turns around as many Doghounds begin to surround us both. Back to back, we look around at the snarling beasts. I glare at one of them, who wears a buttoned up jacket with a pin on his breast that is unfamiliar to me. He grins at us both, amused.
“General. How kind of you to stop by, and grace us with your presence.” I say with a hint of mockery in my voice. He doesn’t stop grinning and, when he speaks, he has the same shared slightly hoarse, growly, voice of all Doghounds.
“General Perovale, I presume?” he asks, looking at Kellan. Kellan just stares at the Doghound General.
“Actually, that would be me, Sir.” I answer with a hint of amusement. The Doghound General slides his look over to me. His lips curl back in a snarl.
“They gave the position to a girl?” he asks. Kellan glares at him, and I just stare in shock. No one in town thinks that…
I barely have time to react before the general is being thrown in my direction by Kellan. I side step, and the general spits out dirt from his mouth.
“Sorry!” Kellan shouts at me, as the general begins to stand up.
The other Doghounds stand and watch without moving. The general bares his teeth at Kellan, and they begin to claw and fight each other. I snap out of my shock, and grip my sword tightly. Walking over to the general, I glance over at the surrounding Doghounds. I stop behind the general, and Kellan and him stop fighting to look at me curiously.
Why did they choose a girl? Well…it's because they don’t see me coming…
I jerk my sword. The general’s eyes widen, and his severed head falls to my feet. I grin at the remaining Doghounds. They instantly charge me, and Kellan barely has time to react before a sword is being swung at him.
The Doghound's sword knicks Kellan's cheek, and blood begins to run down his face. He grabs his sword from off the ground, and stands up to fight the Doghound that swung at him. I duck as a Doghound appears to face me. Our swords clash and, in the heat of the battle, I don’t see Kellan getting overwhelmed until I hear his shout of protest.
Burying my sword in the chest of the Doghound, I throw it aside to see Kellan being dragged to a carriage by Doghounds. I stand there, confused, until I realize what carriage that is. The Doghound conversion carriage! I take off running as Kellan is thrown into it and it begins to glow.
“Kellan! Nooo!” I shout, as he looks at me through panicked eyes. Through the group of Doghounds, I can see a green glow reflecting off of a small orb in the front of the carriage. I lock eyes with it and charge towards it. The Doghounds swarm towards me, and I raise my sword to meet them. A Doghound launches himself at me and I fall back with him, letting his weight carry us backwards. While he is stunned, I flip around and slide my sword into his chest.
With the Doghound still buried in my blade, I hit the remaining Doghounds, using my tactic from earlier. The Doghound slides off my sword. Quickly, before they snap out of their daze, I rush over to the cage. I raise my sword. The world seems to freeze in time as I bring my sword down and the orb shatters.
Howls from outside snap me out of my reverie. I glance down at my wolf partner, Grey, who looks up at me. I was always stronger than them for some reason… I walk over to my wall, grabbing my sword and shield from where they hang. With Grey by my side, we rush out to the town bell and ring it loud and long. The war has begun.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She glanced over at him and nodded, straightening her shoulders. “My enemies will be left broken, homes desolate, wishing they had never crossed paths with Emma Kingslayer.”
He looked over at her, amusement playing across his care-lined face. “You’d better not introduce yourself like that, Miss Emma Karnoble. Besides, this is eighth grade, not battle. Nobody here is out to steal your banner.”
Emma rolled her eyes, watching the houses go past the car in a multi-colored blur. “It is time to don the armor of daybreak, riding onward to a glorious victory. Now is not the time for your silly commoner ideas, for one must always be on their guard.”
Her dad smiled as they pulled up to the school. “Alright, my fair warrioress. Have fun.”
Emma nodded. Then, turning, she faced the school. It had wonderful, looming potential, its gray walls towering over her, but the effect was thoroughly wrecked by the cartoonish images painted along its length. Emma glared at one depiction of an alligator—its sickly smile feigning innocence, concealing the evils within—as she strode up to the front door, walking past a couple early morning kids as they milled around the entrance.
Emma opened the door, and a cacophony of sounds hit her. Spying a kid sitting by the wall, reading, she plopped down next to him. He had unassuming features, but when he glanced up at her she saw the sparkle that revealed a fellow dreamer.
“Hello!” she said. “What’re you reading?”
Without taking his eyes off the page, he lifted the book, revealing the cover.
“To Harmonize with War,” she read aloud. “Woah.” She breathed out excitedly. “That looks amazing. Of course, my dad always says not to judge a book by its cover, but I’ve always thought a title needs a certain … aesthetic. Don’t you agree?”
Now the boy looked up and smiled.
“You’re right,” he said. “A good cover makes the book delicious to the eyes.” He closed his book, carefully keeping one finger tucked between its pages. “I’m Will. And you are?”
“Emma Karnoble.” She stuck out her hand to shake. “But you can call me Emma Kingslayer. I just moved in. I’m supposed to be going to Mrs. Winegardner’s class, but I have no idea where it is.” She saw his eyes brighten.
“That’s my class! I’ll take you.” He led her around a corner, but stopped short, quickly looking at the ground. Right in front of them was a kid almost a foot taller than Emma. He glowered down at Will.
“Watch where you’re going, buddy, or you’ll regret it at lunch,” he said. His eyes flickered over to Emma. “Who’s your friend?”
Emma stiffened. “I can speak for myself, thank you very much. My name is Emma, and I find your churlish behavior to be odious.”
The kid’s eyebrows drew together as she spoke. “I don’t appreciate you making me look stupid,” he growled.
“Oh, you do that just fine on your own.” Emma responded with contempt.
He snarled, “Just for that, I’ll make sure everyone is too scared to even get close to you.” Then, he walked stiffly past them, off to spread warnings about a certain Emma Kingslayer.
“And thus we wage bestial warfare.” Emma muttered, eyes narrowed at the retreating figure. “Well, two can play at that game.” She looked back at Will to see that his jaw had dropped down to the floor.
“You just stood up against Eddy Fisher,” he said, disbelief obvious. Emma cast a censorious glance at Eddy.
“It wasn’t all that hard. He’s just a person, and a rather dim one at that, if he thinks he can intimidate a Kingslayer. Well,” she said, turning back to Will. “What say you to bringing down a tyrant?”
He looked at her for a moment. Then, he grinned. “I say, let us forge onward, maiden, and ever triumph over obstacles.”
The next couple of days were a flurry of activity as Will and Emma pulled together a rag-tag group, consisting of Will’s friends and people that Emma had dragged in mostly against their will. Every day at lunch, they met together under the oak tree. Some days they were knights in shining armor, pulverizing their enemies; other days they would be explorers, sailing to new lands; and on occasion they were detectives. No matter what they played, they were always bright eyed and happy by the end.
One day, Eddy walked up to the band of adventurers. An instant hush fell over the wary warriors. When the silence drifted on long enough, Will nudged Emma forward. She looked him over, giving him plenty of time to squirm before she spoke.
“Eddy Fisher,” she said with authority, “Do you require something?”
He stood there, looking uncomfortable for a moment, before finally saying, “I’m sorry.” He stumbled over the words like they were rabbits in a kitchen: quite unexpected, and not altogether welcome.
Emma considered him carefully, then said, “You know, you could always join with us, if you wanted.” She extended a hand. “What say ye?”
He looked at her hand, deliberating. Then he smiled and took it.
“I say yes.”
A small girl, a servant, looked at me with her head lowered. I look back and see the eyes I locked onto are gone. I can’t get them out of my mind. They were like sweet chocolate yet could be caramel in the middle. I am led to a table to the left near the balcony where I can still see it. As others start coming in I see most of them are girls around my age some from my side of the palace. The ones I saw before come and sit at the table I am seated at. I know I am the first because I didn’t take my time getting ready. I threw on a dress and some jewelry I thought looked nice.
“Introducing King Justin of Bevians, please stand and bow.” As the king entered with some other people behind him on the balcony we stood and bowed. I sit back down as he waves his hand. The queen, I know from her crown, sits beside him. A boy and girl sit on each side of them. The Laxian guests have a table under the balcony, there are only two of them. The Laxians king and his son the prince. That's when I realize that there they are, those eyes. They are on the balcony and following them is a smile. She stares like I interest her more than anything. I snap my glance away as my cheeks burn. I have heard of the princess. She is the first-born and a reckless person. Princess Realynn, she's 19 soon to be 20. Some of the news is saying and asking if she will ever marry. I know she stares at me, knowing I will be her next game. I focus on the food, never mind escaping here, I need to escape HER.
People start to chatter and music begins after the meal. With an excuse of not feeling well, I slip out in search of the stables. The chilly breeze makes me wish I had a coat with this thin layer of dress on my arms. I rub my arms and walk fast in the direction I saw my carriage go with the horses.
After a few minutes, a barn shows up with torches in the front, so I look around, making sure the coast is clear. I slowly open the barn door and walk around, looking at the stalls. Each horse looks similar, but I want a riding horse-- not a carriage horse. A horse nose from my right bumps me through the stall. I jump back, and then realize I know this horse. It's the white Freisan from two days ago. How did he get in here? I reach out and am about to pet him when a voice makes me stop frozen.
“Why, what do we have here? A pretty horse thief?” A dark tone sounding so sweet yet dangerous. The voice comes from behind me, making me whirl around. Those eyes again. Realynn. She is leaning against the stall behind her and is only a few feet away. Her black hair is tucked behind her ears at shoulder length.
Stuttering, I try to think of what to say. This just makes her grin and raise her eyebrows.
“Jayla, isn't it? That's an interesting name. Sounds kinda like bluejay.”
I make a face. “Well, it's not like that.”
Her laugh rings through the air.
“Oh, it isn't, little birdie?” Realynn stands up straight, coming towards me.
"Don’t call me that,” I say with a frown on my face and arms crossed.
“You look like a little birdie to me. I could also call you my jay bird.” I scoff, knowing she's putting on a show. I shake my head and roll my eyes.
Realynn is now in front of me. She smiles. “I guess little birdie does.” Her tone softens and makes my stomach do flips.
“Whatever. I am not going to stay here for long,” I say, not very interested in her games.
“What is the little birdie going to do now? Fly away?”
I glare back at her.
