Main Street Middle School

Siena Facciolo
Main Street Middle School, Grade 8

Leaping through the tangy grass, sweet from purple rains and folded songs. Smiles bouncing and laughter echoing through the mist, cutting into the flowery air. A crinkle in the eyes of a bluebird, a rustle in the smoky stillness, a delicious aroma wafting down the runaway stream -- these make the golden afternoon.

To me, the number nine is just a number. A number greater than one, I will say, but still just a number. It may resemble different things, things that may not make sense, like the number of lives a cat has. I don’t really think it makes sense because who is so obtuse as to kill a cat to see if it comes back to life nine times? No! But in the end there may be special encounters with the number nine that certain people take pleasure in, that do make sense. Perhaps it is the number of puppies your dog gave birth to, or nine years has been your running record for keeping a promise. But if there was no number nine, would that mean there is only eleven years of school? Would the government add a thirteenth grade? There would be no equivalent square route of eighty-one, would there? What about…half of eighteen? I assume we all know that eighteen is an even number. Think of how no nine would affect us. I know I am. I am rationalizing that concept right now.

I have NINE plus 3 friends. I am NINE plus 4 years old. I have NINE minus 7 cats. If I could have any amount of money in the world, it would be NINE thousand dollars. I can count to NINE hundred-NINETY-NINE in French. My cats have NINE lives. Without the number NINE, I would not be able to make these statements, and I would have to use other numbers, such as: 1 (b-o-r-i-n-g!), 2 (a common number), 3 ( there is really nothing wrong with this number, but the prompt is The Number NINE, not The Number Three), 4 (it has a triangle in it. I don't like triangles), and 5 ( it is prime. Prime numbers hurt my brain.) There are other numbers, but I like NINE the best, because it is: odd, composite, not ordinary, loopy, one of the best ages to be, and it has (drum role please...) TWO N's in it!!! WOW it's a special number!

Floating above the blue waves within the sea"s cradle
I dreamt.

Somewhere in this sea, someone's speaking in an arguing voice.
From a crying heart, love can't be born.
Only sadness overflows.

From the fragments of a beautiful wish of the sea,
There are feelings of wanting to be born, embracing light.
In the orange sea, blending into the sunset
the tears of the world sleep.

Was the world being born what called me...?
At the bottom of the deep sea, I could hear a voice.
No matter how dark, or painful place I'm in...

From the fragments of a beautiful wish of the sea,
There are feelings of wanting to be born, opening away from the darkness.
Also in the purple sea, blending into the morning glow
my wishes broke through.

Some day, the source of all fights and sadness
will all vanish. That day will come.
I want to sing with a singular love... in the blue sea...

Someone sweetly spoke out my name.
So they would know of my wish.

By Matt Cecere
Main Street Middle School, Grade 8

I have never seen such a brilliant shade of blue. The water shone with the morning light, reflecting the landscape with a vibrant blue-green. I thought I saw something in the water; perhaps it was nothing. But how can I be certain? Nevertheless, it was true solidarity. For once in my life, I was actually truly alone with nature.

The wind was slightly blowing;
the sun gleamed through the bare tree branches.
I was sitting under the trees and wondering
Thinking.
A voice was whispering with the wind.
"Come," it was saying.
I was almost hypnotized.
I whispered back, "Follow?"
So I stood up shaking.
Following.
I stumbled out of the trees.
And I looked up.
Hypnotized, still.
By beauty.
It was perfectly quiet.
And all I could see above was the pure
blue sky.
Clouds were invisible.
And so, I fell back.
Gazing.
Blinking was rare.
I was under a spell.
I have nver seen such a brilliant shade of blue,
As I saw that sky today.

By Maddy Squier-Paine
Main Street Middle School, Grade 7

We were all seasick and tired. Even though the crew was all feeling too tired and sick to move another inch, we knew that we had to keep going, and none complained. It was July 16th, 1609, and Captain Champlain had been leading us over this lake for two fortnights now. We were just sailing along like we normally do when someone shouted, "Land!" We all looked over the boat on the starboard side of the boat where he had pointed, and we saw a thin line of land on the horizon.

Losing my balance, I stepped and fell into a fire that burned in my heart and pierced me through to the soul. It was agony but I was numb. It was screaming at me but I was deaf. It was brighter than a thousand suns but I was blind. My senses were gone, but I was still somehow aware of something burning deep, deep within me, burning my body and my spirit. Nothing was happening, but everything was humming with a bright, fierce energy around me that I could not detect. I could not move myself, but I could not tell whether I was moving or not. My mouth was open, but I did not know if I was shrieking in nonexistent pain, because I could not hear myself and I could not feel my vocal cords throb. This was beyond feeling. This was an energy I did not know that pulsed and moved inside me, and swept up into a wave that poured out of me from the deep places in my soul. This was not fire, it was lightning, a sheer bolt of power swelling inside me and gushing from me.

By Gabe Otter
Main Street Middle School, Grade 7

Torrents of rain pelted the car like stray bullets. The windshield may as well have been frosted over in an inch of ice, for the steady stream of water pouring down it revealed only a blur of distorted shapes. To the left and right were thick conifers, such deep emerald hues, drinking up the much needed moisture.

I have always grown up hearing about how my nana had always been (and still is) such a great musician. Every once and a while she would even take out her old violin and play, or more often she would play her piano. Sometimes she would play a duet on the piano with my sister. My mom also loves classical music so I always listened to it but never knew it as something someone played. I thought of it, more or less, as pretty sounds. She loved Bach the most but we listened to a variety of composers. We also sometimes listened to jazz which I really loved. We would dance around the kitchen to both the jazz and the classical music. When my sister started to play piano I started to appreciate music even more. I started to develop an ear for music, at least my mom thought so.

By: Luke Hammer
November 16, 2008
My Favorite Place to Go

When I travel, I like to go somewhere I have never been before because the world is an amazing place and I want to learn all about it. I have been to Canada, Europe, Iceland, many US states, and last but not least Kenya and Tanzania. My favorite trip was definitely to Africa. I went to Africa in 2006, my fourth grade year. The trip was not only fun, but it was educational, culturally diverse, and was great for seeing a different biome from the temperate forest.

By Madison Dunn
Main Street Middle School, Grade 8

If I was Mother Nature what would this world look like? What would I do to make this world a better place? What would it rain? What color would the grass be? What would the trees be made out of? What would the seasons be called? What would water look like? What would my world look like? Could my answers to these questions make the world a much happier, healthier, and peaceful place for everyone? Read on to find out.

White Water Worries
Danielle Ayer
Main Street Middle School, Grade 8

During the second week of August this summer, my family and a few close friends went on a white water rafting expedition. It was a perfect day and I couldn’t wait to spend time with my family. It was a day I had been anticipating for a long time, but an unexpected, dramatic twist would make it an experience none of us would ever forget.
When we arrived at home base we geared up in wet suits, booties, helmets and paddles. From there we followed our guide to the bus. Our crew shared the bus with a bunch of kids from a summer camp. We later found out that this camp comes every year, and no guide ever wants to be assigned to them because of how rude and rambunctious they are. Our guide expressed how relieved she was to be taking us down the river because we seemed as though we would be a lot of fun. I’m not sure how fun we were but we certainly made her day exciting by the events that were soon to unfold.

The Evil Grandma
The sound of high heels clicked slowly up the street, along with an occasional thump of a cane. The lilac colored shoes making this sound were five inches high, with skinny, pointed heels, perfect for kicking unsuspecting children in the face. Hercream-colored stockings looked cottony and soft. However, they were actually made out of a cotton-like bullet-proof material. Her dress was purple, with flowers on it and starched stiff. The evil grandma’s face had wrinkles etched upon it. Her eyes had a cold look as they gazed around, coming to rest upon a ‘wanted’ sign with her picture on it. Her mouth turned up into a smirk as she read the caption below: “Evil Grandma: wanted for various robberies. If seen, DO NOT approach, but call authorities immediately.”

November 16, 2008
Madeline Murray-Clasen
LOST
I sat on the cool rock while I gazed calmly out over the beautiful view. The colors of the leaves dance as the wind rushed through them. The water in the distance ripples; little waves float over the glossy surface just as mist would rise in the early morning.

“Ruby are you coming?” my uncle called.

“No.” I thought to myself. I wanted to stay here; sit, think and watch.

“Ruby?”

“NO!” I shouted.

“Okay. We're going to explore. We’ll be back in a bit.” He called back.

I just kept staring, enjoying the warm air and the view.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there, but when I looked up my family wasn’t back. No uncle, aunt, or cousin. I didn’t panic. No need to. We had been here before and my cousin had said he wanted to go exploring when we returned.

Luke Burton
Main Street Middle School
Grade 8
12/11/08
Haunted

When I tell people that I live right next to a graveyard they get a look of fear on their face. I thought the same thing when I first moved here, but since then I have gotten used to it. Well I wouldn’t say gotten used to, more like learned to ignore it. Anyway, everyday after school I have soccer practice, and after practice the quickest way home is through the graveyard.

Beyond Reach
By: Becky Kilian

Weaving my way through the crowd, I was looking for something. Every time I thought there was a chance, it would just be more people: another obstacle. I knew in my head that there was no purpose for my struggle, but my body kept moving toward my destination.

Cafeteria Food
By: Alyssa S. Barrett
Main Street Middle School, Grade 7

What makes people throw up in their mouth and causes bad gas for days? It's the culprit of dirty looks and the topic of many lunch conversations. It fills trash cans rapidly and makes compost buckets overflow. You guessed correctly- cafeteria food.
Cafeteria food has gone from home cooked mashed potatoes to “almost homemade pizza”, which isn't anyones typical definition of homemade at all! Pizza has become frozen crusts, fake cheese and disgusting combinations of meats and veggies.
Here's what I don't understand- Is it really that hard to hire people who know how to cook, and to set a side a little money to buy fresh, yet yummy produce? - No, that part isn't hard at all. The hard part is getting a budget that will give us the money to have healthy food.

Snow is a sign of no school
Which I think is quite cool
Can’t wait until the flakes drop
Time to jump and hop
When the snow comes I’ll be happy
My ears will go flappy
But it only lasts awhile
It goes until it hits the Nile
I love the snow
With it I don’t have to mow
That makes it a good day
But sometime I will have to say good
Bye to the snow anyways.

Snowflakes in my backyard
My snow fort is my guard
Hot cocoa I drink a lot
Snowflake, a tiny dot
Snow is cold, I am freezing
Luckily I’m not sneezing
I’m not scared of a white hare
Though I am scared of a polar bear
I like watching icicles
till the summer I won’t eat popsicles.

Walter and Willow

By Samantha Ringer
Main Street Middle School, Grade 7

She stood at the back door calling her cat, Walter, through choked tears. This had been the second night of nothing, not even a tiny meow. Walter had been a best friend to Emma.

“Emma, come upstairs to bed,” said her broken-hearted mother. “We will go out to look tomorrow.” So Emma sulked up to bed and, with a hug and kiss from her mother, she was soon fast asleep. The next morning she woke up with dried tears on her cheeks. She watched the sunrise out the window from her bed.

By Maggie Gordon
Main Street Middle School, 7th grade
The Price You Pay
“Dogs are a man’s best friend”. I think this quote is very accurate. Dogs are always there for you even when no one else is. I’ve had four dogs in my life since I was born. Unfortunately, I’ve had pretty bad luck with dogs. I mean, the dogs have been the most wonderful dogs you could ask for. The only thing is that two of them have died early for dogs. It was especially hard because I was so young when the two dogs died.

Flynn Aldrich
Main Street Middle School, grade 7

Is Bad Good?

Kate Drew
Main Street Middle School, grade 8
November 17th, 2008

Crash

As I pace back and fourth from one end of the hospital waiting room to the other, I pray my only family member will make it out alive. Tears stream down my face, and the make up I once had on has either washed away or sunk deep into my pores. If I had only obeyed curfew, she would never have been out of the house. If I had gone to the party three blocks away, instead of the one 30 minutes away, she wouldn’t have had to travel on the busiest road in Manhattan to try to find me.

I awoke into a bright light, not knowing where I lay. I fought to keep my eyes open but it was so bright they were forced shut. Walls of white surrounded me. As I sat up I started to regain my sight. A figure began to appear. It was, from what I could tell, a woman. She was tall, thin and blonde. I finally regained full sight and realized she was floating. Right then I new that something wasn’t right. I could faintly remember where I had been just moment ago, driving in my car, drunk. The figure began to talk. “Addison, listen closely, you have been sent to heaven, because you were in a car accident. Remember?” she said.

Vermont is a small state, but in this state it’s always beautiful and green here. Vermont is famous for skiing, snowboarding, the bright colors of its leaves, and the tasty maple syrup.

What is one thing I would change about Vermont? One thing I would change about Vermont is that Burlington should be closer to Montpelier. We drive all the way to the very tip of the northwest of Vermont just to go shopping. That is just so unfair! Shopping malls should to the middle of Vermont, not tucked away in the tip of Vermont. Most girls love shopping, and their parents drive for an hour to Burlington and go shopping. They drive back from Burlington and that takes about an hour. You spend so much time in Burlington; you’ll just be too tired to drive another hour. I think it’s better to have Burlington closer to Montpelier. That is what I want to change about Vermont.

The Big Loss
By: Enis Palamarevic

Editor's Note: This piece will be presented at the Winter Tales productions of Vermont Stage Company, Dec 3-7 at FlynnSpace. Reading on this podcast and during the performance is Liz Gilbert, an 8th grade actress at U-32. To hear all the Winter Tales podcasts as they will sound at the shows, click here.

Snow Doesn't Lie . . .

By Mairead Hurley
Main Street Middle School, Grade 7

Many waning moons ago,
I drifted prompt and swift
through snow.
I wondered how and I wondered why,
What makes these crystalline flakes
survive?
Through tough long winters and windy
Skies-
I figured this, they didn't lie.
They didn't lie from time's beginning,
And they fell from Him, never have
sinning.
But why not one tiny little fib?
How come they fell and didn't sin?
Here's what I think, listen now,
everlasting hope is how.
People near and people far,
always travel on and grasp their
star.

Snow clustered around my feet, crumbling where I stepped. The slight smell of wood smoke touched my nose. And although I listened hard, no sound reached my ears. So there I was walking through the thick swirling snow.