Where Stories Begin

Spring 2025/ Volume 6, Issue 1

Before: Elina Kaminska

That Seasick Feeling: Olivia Ball

Before Becoming Broski: Daimee Kargbo

My Name: Prekshya Gautam

Crossing to Eighteen: Ferdauous Elidrissi

Crashing Love: Haylee Bordner

Flying Over Japan: Ella Lipschutz

Kicking the Old Me: Muhamad Meklachi

Christmas List: Emma Hornbaker

Dinner is Over: Aubrey Carter

A Misconception: Foster Lemley

The Color of Cold: Lily Petrovich

Two Sentence Horror Stories

Leo Socla, Emily Damon, Foster Lemley, Ali Alami, Selena Truong, Ella Lipschutz, Ferdaous Elidrissi, Isander Gonzalez Gonzalez, Hannah Baldwin

Acrostic Poems

Rachel Steinfeld, Jazryel Pabron, Foster Lemley, Khushi Patel, Lily Petrovich, Aubrey Carter, Veronica White

I ran until my legs itched,

Pink shoes turned dusty, hair messy.

I lived for long summer days,

Staying outside until the stars showed up,

or until my mom yelled, “get inside!”.

Before the twenty hour flight.

Before I had to say goodbye, without really knowing how.

Before the Thanksgiving holiday I had to learn about.

Before I heard my name spoken in a new way.

A change,

a road that leads us to a new and undiscovered path,

It’s scary, you never know how it will end.

But if you keep walking,

keep going despite the fear—

It slowly starts to make sense.

The smell of fresh-cut grass,

a barking dog on neighbor’s yard.

I never thought I would these so much.

And even though the road ahead is still unknown,

I take my memories with me.

Because no matter where I go,

these summer days,

that childish joy,

will always be a part of me.

art by K. Miller

Endless sea of memories.

Waves crashing into the warm

sand of a fresh start.

Leaving behind that seasick feeling

of regret, the swirling storm in my

head, and a sailor I once knew.

Stirling silver necklace, Polaroid pictures

floating on the surface of time.

Swept into the distance on a hidden island

from the past.

Dangerous waters ahead

ready to be explored.

New currents sweeping in every direction.

I shall begin this journey with my head high.

Still waters are coming and I shall explore them.

Photo by K. Miller

Self hatred and a fluffy

pink dog, I surfed

YouTube for a good video

at sixteen years old

Before the people

Before the Body love

Before the crocheting

Before the womanhood

Before the laughter that flooded

my room. Before the

community, there was a fork in the

road that I could not

Eat off of.

My warm bed cloaked myself

from the world, allowing

me to avoid my self image

and focus on something new

that could change my mindset

and set me straight, while

grouping me together with

the weird girlies who

I love

Prekshya may mean a lot of good things, but, to me, my name is like a traffic jam because every time the teacher says it, we spend a good two - three minutes learning how to say my name properly. My name means a lot of things, but one thing it will never mean is easy. For me, taking attendance has always been like preparing for a storm. I have to get myself ready for some students to make sly remarks, some giggles, and of course for my face to become a tomato by the time the teacher is done. Though my name may make my anxiety rise up like the moon rising over the ocean, my name is my name, and I wouldn't change it for anything. It’s as unique as jade vines, very out there, very new and a lot to get used to, but hey, my name is my name and like I said, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

The river carries my childhood away.

Laughter lost behind sounds of rushing waters.

Old memories drift downstream,

ones at the beach and the park.

On the shore, I leave behind treasures.

Pink sparkly flip flops, my favorite teddy bear.

The shore once close,

now far behind.

Eighteen waits on the other side.

The waters deepen and the currents strengthen.

I stand at the edge, uncertain.

The sound of ripples urges me forward

I cross, torch in my hand

its glow fueled by past experiences.

The river bends and moves along,

and so must I.

Waves flow and crash,

Relationships the same,

It’s time to wash this away.

Loving and fighting,

Too much work.

Rebuilding will be too.

Drowning in what-ifs,

Leave it all behind.

Time to cut it off,

For a new one I will find

These big waves are just temporary,

Destroying the old to bring in the new.

Love is hurtful and crazy,

Just like a tsunami too.

Photo by Veronica White

I fold my hands, fingers laced together

as the plane ascends above the land

Where my sister’s family gathers

Beneath the sun that feels like home.

Their laughter lingers in my heart

I hold it close, like the letters I never sent

The ground below softens and fades

The engine whispering goodbyes

No longer were we strangers, tied

by threads that stretch beyond the tide

the oceans breathe and the winds embrace

A bond that time and miles can’t erase.

The scent of coffee and ocean spray

Falls away as the clouds come to meet me

ashy wisps in a dark sky

My thoughts drift and I say goodbye.

Distance becomes a new closeness,

a space where love grows

and when I return, I hold them close

like the flight that brought me here

photo by Foster Lemley

Muscles tighten, release-

joints braced for the next strike.

Soft Hoka foam

kisses the ground below.

Anything can be kicked:

lists of PRs, trials, doubts.

I kick it in the mile

stride by stride, breath by breath.

Lactic Acid burns-

a foot slams the brake.

The ache creeps upward,

begging me to stop.

But I resurface, revived-

A shift in my stride,

a clearing in my mind

kicking the old me aside.

Shiny red and green lights,

and that familiar pine smell.

Before high school.

Before social media.

Before going through college recruiting.

Before getting accepted to college.

At ten years old,

I only asked for items out of the toy catalog.

Now, the gifts under the Christmas tree

have changed.

The cutest new doll

to clothes.

A fun snow cone maker

to a mini fridge.

The coolest new doll house

to storage containers to go under my future twin bed.

Cute pink and purple princess room décor,

to solid pink and grey room décor.

Suddenly, my cool toys list

that every little girl yearned for,

turns into a dorm room list,

that every teenage girl wishes for.

I’m getting older,

my Christmas list

and I

have changed.

A long banquet table

fit for a thousand

but holding only one

stretches far beyond the view ahead

Glossy plates

dot the tablecloth

all in a line

Soft clicks & mechanical whirs

discard today's dinner

pulling the next forward

A white ceramic dish holds another meal

Dull

Mushy

& Tasteless

Poking & prodding with a fork

Starving & unfulfilled

Only waiting for the next dish

…

A desire grows for what awaits

A divine dessert

A release from the mundane monotony

A divine dessert

tempting

The kind of temptation

that slowly gnaws on patience

Implanting lethal thoughts

into the vulnerable mind

A plate is discarded once more

The next, pulled forward

only to be

dull

mushy

& tasteless

There’s a snap

Breaking & succumbing

Standing up

Knocking the wooden seat over

Clattering

Echoing

Nails

Clawing at the tablecloth

Dragging the corpus up onto it

Dinner’s dish

Shattering onto the floor

Spilling the mush into a sloppy puddle

Squelching

Splattering

Porcelain crunching under shoes that stain the pristine fabric

Urgently rushing across the banquet

Footsteps matching the racing heart

with each shaking breath

Until

The table ends

Slamming onto the floor

Cold tiles stinging the flesh

Staggering upright

Looking back

A divine dessert

trampled

& ruined

There is no more left

Dinner is over.

It is true: we can only observe the world through our senses.

Such a precious ability should be appreciated should it not?

Sight makes life easy.

Dark and light both lead us.

They colour the soul.

Hearing deepens our language- our awareness.

Touch– touch is cool and warm

It is comfort that calms and pressure that strengthens.

Pain teaches.

Smell, though it may drive one insane,

Smell is harmless, and floral, and vigilant.

But not one other sense is so useless,

So vile and utterly vain.

As taste.

I could do better without taste.

I learn to love what hurts me;

I taste because I love the pain.

My sight fails to reach so far,

My ears hear not the warnings,

My body must first feel to believe,

And my most sensitive sense is betrayed.

I have left it for a malicious imposter

And I have only felt regret.

And he has fallen, the last man on Earth. I have to restart again, nothing seems to work.

-Leo Socla

Sometimes, I get spontaneous flashes of memories long passed and seldom considered, which, by their childish and romantic nature, give me something pleasant on which to reminisce. Every time, I am wrenched from that pleasure, as I fear that this is my brain’s way of giving me one last look, before it is forever forgotten.

-Foster Lemley

She wondered why she had two shadows. Since the only light came from her candle.

- Ella Lipschutz

Every night, my mom tucked me in and whispered, “I Love you.” After she passed, I heard her say it again from the darkness, but this time, I could feel her cold breath on my cheek.

- Issy Gonzalez Gonzalez

I heard a noise from my basement. However, I swear I killed her.

- Emily Damon

My neighbors upstairs won’t quit the noise. I assumed that after their deaths it would stop, but I was wrong.

-Ali Alami

I heard my mom call me for dinner downstairs. I’m home alone.

-Selena Truong

Outside the haunted library, a sign that warns “Dare to open a book, and you’ll get lost forever.” I walk in, curious about which book I’ll read today.

- Ferdaous Elidrissi

I’d kill for him. Though, I hadn’t thought the knife would be plunged into my back.

- Hannah Baldwin

photo by Foster Lemley

Cold, used to describe weather.

When the glass nips with frost,

and your breath is seen,

we often think of cold as blue.

Can that same color transfer? From weather to human?

For mine have been blue for quite a time,

yet brown is the only color in my family’s eyes.

So, why are mine like this?

Since the 2nd grade

my eyes have been a window.

To my brittle heart, my splintered brain and my shattered hope.

However, I would like to think

that cold is pale, lifeless.

Something you can look at

and see no joy resonating from it.

But I am not yet lost.

For coldness is white to me,

and my eyes are as vibrant as ever.

So, should my saddened, taped together story

about my pain ever find you,

please, give a shot at hope.

For true coldness is bare, and you’re eyes are full of life.

photo by F. Lemley

Sleeping in, waking at

Noon to drink hot coco and sled

On the big hill. Good thing

We have no worries on this winter day.

- Rachel Steinfeld

Shimmers and glistens when the sun hits the snow

Now running down the icy road

On the way to school at last

Wind of the opposite direction blows down my path.

- Jazryel Pabron

Shattered rivers in the clouds

Now shine on my dim remains

Onions will be eaten raw

When the dreamy say so deigns

- Foster Lemley

Snowflakes are falling, cold

Nights are approaching,

Over the chimney Santa goes

With Rudolph’s bright nose

- Khushi Patel

Sometimes we wonder about these fallen crystals of joy

Never have we forgotten these moments of glee

Often during this time of year we say

What a wonderous thing to see

- Lily Petrovich

Staring out the window, watching the powder fall

Not a single color shows, besides a blinding pure white

On the glass, my fingers feel the cold seeping through

Warmth returns with a sip of hot coco

- Aubrey Carter

Skiing vigorously down ginormous mountains

Nose and toes frozen from the biting wind

Occasionally falling on the

Way down

- Veronica White

Student Voices

Stories are an integral part of all our lives. Here are some that influenced East Pennsboro students.

What was your favorite book as a child?

Max Cote

The Very Hungry Caterpillar: I like this book because I think that it represents me.

Brayden Casey

Spot's First Easter: It made me feel like the happiest person in the world as a kid.

Sienna Wilson

Cat and the Hat: This book made me laugh and smile.

Ms. Johnson

Don't Let the Pigeon drive the Bus- I thought that this book was very funny.

Cameron Day

Go, Dog, Go: I really liked dogs.

Sydney Levering

The Rainbow Fish: It had a great message and the pages were pretty.

What is your favorite book you read in school?

Lauren Stup

Great Gatsby: The characters are vibrant and Mr. Gatsby is very interesting to learn about.

Maddie Corkery

Holes: The plot was very interesting and it always made me want to read more

Sam Dressler

The Road: I liked the book because of how intense the environment felt around the characters.

Hannah Rachid

Maze Runner: I loved the story line. It was very interesting and kept making me want to read more and more.

Jax Bowers

The Outsiders- I thought it was interesting.

Mrs. Wotring

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn- I love historical novels. The author really made the characters come alive.

Want to be considered for publication next year?

Check out our summer writing contest!

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