Hello! Welcome to the 2022 Arrow – Hackley Middle School’s Literary & Arts Magazine.
Thank you to all the students who submitted their creative work!
Keep an eye out for the hardcopy, published version coming soon to a middle school near you.
Skylar v. ’26
Lantern
by: Sarah S. ’28
A twinkling star in a sea of darkness
Lighting up the night.
Shining bright for all who need my glow.
Through rain or snow I stand strong
Day after day.
I flicker and fade
But never go out.
Harlo N. ’27
The following photos all by: Zihou D. ’29 – select an image to view larger
Race
by: Lola F. ’26
I jump in the water.
The gutters overflow.
Then, an ice-cold sensation runs through my body
as the water splashes my face.
I start kicking;
it doesn’t take long for my legs to start burning,
and the freezing cold to turn into intense heat.
I spend
day after day,
practice after practice,
every single yard
kicking,
pulling,
and letting the water gracefully flow around my body,
not through it.
Years of practice for one race,
standing on the blocks,
my hands begin to shake.
The whistle blows.
I push off the blocks.
Then the adrenaline kicks in.
Before I can think, my hands fly over my head,
and I hear the beat of my own kick.
Seconds go by,
but it feels like hours.
My hand finally touches the pad.
I can barely hear the shouting over my own heart.
The joy slips away as I look at the board —
another time worse than the last,
another waste
when I thought I had the
right pace.
I keep trying, but to no avail.
You can’t say “bad race”
or “I made a mistake.”
Just rinse and repeat;
Say you can’t be beat.
That’s it
there’s nothing else to it.
Kalin H. ’26
My Aunt’s Apartment, an excerpt
by: Madison C. ’26
Selena’s discography was the soundtrack to my aunt’s apartment. It was a sound so melodious that even as a child I became an instant fan, shouting along in my scratchy little- kid voice to “Como La Flor”. There was always something being made in her house. There was a constant smell of something cooking, baking or being given life within these walls. As I peered into the doorway and looked over at my beautiful aunt with her dark brown skin watering the discos para empanadas, delicately filling them with beef and shredded cheese, I shuttered with the excitement of learning to put the perfect amount of love into my empanadas like that.
Evelyn W. ’28
Six Ways of Seeing Cabins
by: Mia S. ’28
- The best way of staying out.
Bunk beds line the wall.
Us,
excited and nervous
in this new environment.
Warm pillows like a hug,
a new form of living.
2.Comfy homes, connected to nature.
Nature itself tangling around you like the leash of a playful puppy,
wildlife never closer.
The exact definition of mornings of hiking to the windy mountain-top,
looking for the hues of green and blues bordering the star-speckled sky
known as the aurora.
The bright reds and oranges of the sound of laughter
ringing throughout the cabin,
and hot chocolate by the
raging bonfire,
laughing as the marshmallow begins to melt.
3. Brilliant and new, having a sort of uniqueness.
A new way of staying out,
undiscovered
before the trip to Iceland.
A way that feels old
but new at the same time.
4. A dump.
A place where
no human
should live.
Disastrous and
a quiet sight.
5. Majestic and tall,
stands straight like a champion.
A fashionable way
of living.
6. Staring over the hills, forgotten
after only a night.
Sitting, waiting, for the next crowd of tourists to
arrive.
William S. ’28
Heshikiri Hasebe, the blade of the Oda Nobunaga, Demon King of The Sixth-Heaven
by: Noah H. ’28
I am Heshikiri Hasebe,
the katana of Oda Nobunaga,
Demon King of the Sixth Heaven.
I am a weapon of victory,
striking down my opponents with swift precision,
a tool of death, striking fear into those who challenge me.
I am proud.
I am also scarred,
for I have seen the twisted sight of war,
heard the sad whales for mercy,
and smelled blood and hate,
mixing into the rotten stench of death.
The bodies of loyal soldiers lay on the ground of the battlefield,
each carrying their own wounds,
physically, and mentally
some praying,
some saluting their lords,
but all, carrying a dark look in their eyes,
a look of nobility and pride,
but also regret and sadness.
I know this feeling…
No…I am the cause of this feeling,
for I am the demon blade.
I am…Heshikiri Hasebe!
Jonah G. ’27
Halloween
by: Pippa G. ’28
Halloween is here,
and you can feel the fear
as the kids walk down the block
the screams are very clear
with haunted houses and trick or treating
Halloween is a blast
but be careful, it can pass very fast
from ghouls to ghosts
monsters to mummies
creatures lurk in the dark
if you listen very carefully
you can hear the werewolves howl and bark
as the children go to their houses
with buckets full of candy
the real monsters come out of hiding
and have a little party.
Jake N. ’26
A Flow of Roses
by: Saifan M. ’28
Chapter 1
I am Isabel. It was a sunny day for me to be born. There was not a cloud in the sky and the animals were singing songs and more songs in the bright sunlight. You might know my parents, Poseidon and Aphrodite, but this is not their story. This is mine, so let’s dive in. I was a little girl born on the fifth of May. It was a lovely day when I was born. My parents knew what my powers would be when I was born. The most beautiful flowers in all of Enchantia merged to create a bed for me to lie in. Enchantia is located in ocean lands a bit down from Greece; only gods, goddesses, or heroes can see it. In my opinion, it’s the most beautiful place in the world with waterfalls in the skies and oceans running for miles. It’s one of Enchantia’s most beautiful places. You should really go and visit it; wait, never mind, you can’t. Ummmm so what was I talking about? Oh ya, so after we knew what my power would be, we started to help control and understand my power.
We practiced my powers. I was breaking the practice dummies with roses. I didn’t even know I could do that. I was breaking dummies so that I can practice for Superhero School or the School of Gods and Goddesses. I call it the School of Gods and Goddesses. I have always wanted to go there. I heard it was really cool. It was at the age of 18 that I got a letter saying that I would be attending the School of Gods and Goddesses of Encanhtia. I was so happy, I was jumping with joy in the sky and making a rose world in my meditation garden. I have a meditation garden to control my powers, just in case my emotions get a hold of me. After I told my parents, I started to pack even though school started in three weeks. I was just so excited that every time we had dinner random flowers would rise from the table because I was so happy. In my defense, I was only 18 and could not really control my powers that much. After we found this news, my dad and I started practicing. He thought I was ready, so we tried. Let’s say that it didn’t go so well, and after two minutes, I was drenched in water. It was not appealing. The next day, I was so close to beating him. I learned this new move to beat my dad, but I didn’t do it very well. The move was to create a vine that wrapped onto his leg and arm that would flip him over and hit him in his stomach, but I hit the arm, missed the leg and flipped him, and missed the ending rose hit. So, it did not go well, but I was learning and improving for school.
Before I knew it, it was time to leave for school. I was so happy, my face lit up like the sun was in me. After a little while, we were at the school. I read the name once more to appease myself School of Gods and Goddesses of Enchantia. I couldn’t believe it was time I say my goodbyes and walk into the school, not knowing what I would find or what would happen. I turned back to say my last goodbye, and I saw my family was already gone. All I saw was an indistinct sea of people coming into the school. I didn’t know where they went. I tried to leave the building, but after trying and trying, I finally fell to the floor.
When I woke up, I saw other kids with me in a large bed in a bright white room that looked like it stretched for miles. Some of the other kids were awake but some of the other kids were asleep. I looked around to find something that can help me get out of here. After a while, all the kids are awake, and the chains on us had been released. I had never been in chains, and I did not like it. My hands were cramping so much that I could barely feel my hands. A few seconds later, a big voice from a television starts to talk to me, startling us all.
Keira P. ’26
The Red Codex
A Brief Recollection of the History of the Crimson Union,
as transcribed by Albertus the Swift-Handed
by: Ace P. ’27
Chapter, the First:
The Islands Crimson, located some ways northwest of what is now known as Australia, were twice blessed. Firstly, the archipelago was blessed with bountiful natural resources. The constant rainfall enabled a lush natural environment to flourish upon the land. There could be found a diversity of flora and fauna in this, a land of warmth and beauty. The bounties of the land were matched in whole by those of the sea surrounding the islands, wherein aquatic life flourished and there could be found a plentiful reef. Below the ground, copious reserves of iron and other valuable materials were buried by giants of earth long gone. These were islands filled with life, with plenty, with potential. It is here that we come to their second blessing: the population.
There cannot be found a soul alive that knows from just where the Crimson People first sailed, nor when or why they left. Inference can tell to us that they migrated from one of the less glorious nations of what is presently known as the Australian continent. We lack evidence of interaction between the Crimson People and other peoples during this period, so it can further be inferred that they remained in solitude on these islands.
Dominating the northern part of the centermost islands existed the Albertuns. Maxwaldean Men. United Peoples of Kesh. Gabrielluns
Sarah R. ’26
Didgeridoo
by: Will S. ’28
I-
Didgeridoo,
Sitting on the side
of a chatty river bank.
Watching curious natives,
Seeing ships land on the coast.
II-
Didgeridoo,
Stands tall.
As the natives
Are stripped of their rights.
III-
Didgeridoo,
Laying in a healing hut,
As more and more get infected.
Diseases as painful as burns.
IV-
Didgeridoo,
In a tent.
Hearing the sharp screeches
of genocide.
V-
Didgeridoo,
Watching others die.
From the bloody taste
of tainted water.
VI-
Didgeridoo,
Destroyed.
In a dry river bed.
The sour sight of it,
Horrifying.
VII-
Didgeridoo,
The last item remaining
of the indigenous peoples.
Kareena P. ’26
