El Gato Creativity Contest

Finalist – Sophomore Jesse Lu:

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Sophomore Alec Marcellin

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Sophomore Autria Aidun

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Sophomore Bradley Adams

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Sophomore Casey Kamali

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Freshman Eleanor Kinsella

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Sophomore Luke Stimson

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Sophomore Marc Weiner

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Sophomore Mason Chin

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Sophomore Natalie Deck

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Sophomore Ryan Shaw

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Freshman Wilma Wei

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Senior Sean Greenleaf

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Sophomore Maya Tal


Senior Connor Tinsley:

Poem: Tyler Perry’s: Teenage Angst

I walk the line between light and dark
Rollerskating is my life
Because lately life has lost its spark
Rollerskating is my life
Nearing the cliff, I hold my breath
Rollerskating is my life
As I prepare for the sweet release of death
Rollerblading is fun too

Senior Katharine Giddings:

Dolores raised her hand to the teacher in the front of the classroom.
“Yes Dolores?” The teacher asked.
“Mrs. Stevenson, I won’t be here for the test on Wednesday. There’s going to be an earthquake that day.”
   The whole class leaned forward to look at Dolores as she innocently looked back at them.
   “It’s true,” she continued, “didn’t you know that scientists can now predict earthquakes… and well, my parents just don’t want me at school if an earthquake is going to happen then.”
   Other students started talking amongst themselves.
   “…I wouldn’t go either…” one cried.
   “…surely the school must close…” another asked.
   “…but why do I have to go to school?..” a third one whined.
   The teacher tried to quiet the class, and regain control.
   “Now, now. There won’t be an earthquake. So everyone should still study for the test. Please, everyone, open your spelling books to page 4.”

   Later that day after school, Dolores was followed by a herd of children, younger and older than her, bombarding her with questions.
   “How did you find out?”
   “Are you sure?”
   “How will we protect ourselves?”
   Dolores shrugged, “I’ll ask my parents more when I get home.”
   She walked through the garden gate, leaving the other children bewildered on the sidewalk as she went through her front door.

   Her parents were at the breakfast table talking to each other, when Dolores walked in.
   “Well hello, sweetheart!” Her mother smiled brightly. “How was school?”
   “Fine.” Dolores sighed. “Apparently school’s gonna be closed Wednesday because there’s gonna be an earthquake.”
   Dolores kicked off her shoes and started to leave.
   “Dolores, sweetie?” Her father called, “How does the school know there’s going to be an earthquake?”
   “Some scientists I guess, you can call the school if you want.” She shrugged and walked away.
   Her parents turned to each other, confused.
   “Eric?” The mother asked, “My major project is due Wednesday. If there’s going to be an earthquake, I should probably push my deadline to compensate.”
   Eris turned back to his wife, Sandra.
   “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ll go ahead and cancel work on Wednesday too, I didn’t really want to go in, anyways.” They smiled at each other, “I’ll check in with Phil, first.”

   “An earthquake? I didn’t even know they could predict those things. Is it on the news?” Phil’s voice sounded scratchy through the phone.
   “I don’t know, but my daughter’s school is closing on Wednesday. A lot of her friend’s parents are also going on about it.”
“Aw man, I have a friend on the eight-o’clock news, I have to get him in on this info. I didn’t have anything on Wednesday, but we should probably all take a day off, anyways. I’ll see you later.”
   “Bye Phil.” Eric hung up the phone and checked the calendar, it was Monday. Time to get some supplies.

Sandra walked into the kitchen to see bags of groceries covering the breakfast table and kitchen counters.
“Eric, what are all these groceries for?”
“Well, since I’ll be off work on Wednesday, I thought I’d have time to make some of my famous ribs.” he said.
“Won’t the earthquake affect our ability to cook?” Sandra asked.
“Darling, it’s an earthquake, not a hurricane,” he countered,  “we should have a barbeque and invite the neighborhood!”
Eric left the kitchen, putting plans together for the party.

“Did you see the news last night?”
“Mandated all schools and businesses to be closed.”
The teacher nervously went up to quiet the class.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve all heard the news. Apparently reports say that there will be an earthquake tomorrow. So Dolores’ parents were right, and in fact, the school will be closed tomorrow. Your spelling test will just have to be taken another time, hopefully sooner rather than later.”
The entire class cheered, getting up on desks and throwing papers.
“I didn’t want to take a spelling test anyways!”
   “Settle down!” The teacher yelled, “You still have class today, so I expect you to pay attention.”

   On the way home from school, the children walking with Dolores started to talk about their plans.
   “My parents are taking me to the lake and we’ll spend the day with my grandparents.” one boy said.
   “Aw man, that sounds awesome! I was going to go skateboarding with my dog and sister.” another one said.
   “I’m going to the beach!” a third one replied.
   “Well I know what none of us are doing.” Dolores turned to them. “None of us are taking a spelling test tomorrow!”
   Once again the kids were cheering Dolores on as she parted from the group to head down her street. Things were working out pretty sweet.

   “Honey, can you get some more paper cups from the kitchen?” Sandra called to her daughter.
   “Sure thing, mom!” Dolores didn’t bother putting on shoes as she walked outside to hand her mom the cups. It was a gorgeous day, and the barbeque was in full swing. Many of her classmates were there too, running barefoot in the grass while the sun started to dip into the east horizon.
   Dolores sat down with another burger, enjoying the warm breeze. The whole neighborhood was out talking and laughing, no one had gone into work today. It was a perfect day.

Junior Xavier Downs:

Poem Title: Prologue

I see people as books, filled with unlimited stories and memories from their lifetimes. Page after page, success after tragedy, loss after gain, our chapters define our lives and endings. Each of us have our own books of life, and whether we share them with others, or keep them shut and on the shelf, is up to us, the authors. We are the authors of our own stories, the keeper of our own secrets, the decryptors of the codes within our hearts. If people are like books, then that means that the world is like a library, filled with countless novels on love, horror, mystery and poetry, oh the poetry. Now I’m not the type of guy to check out a book every month, and return it, one and done, no. If I find a book worth reading, I study it, all of it, each word, each chapter, over and over. I then find the next book in the series and do the same, I cherish each one. Now some people say that they are open books, or more specifically, their hearts are, open to whomever dare read and get lost to the scripture. I am an open book, but my book is written in a language that I don’t understand. That’s why I search the library every day, walking every aisle, looking through every book, trying to find the one with the same text, same words, so that when I find the book, I will find the author. Now she, she and I will be the answers to each other’s codes. She and I, we will be the authors of the most epic love story there will ever be. We will be each other’s editors and audience. And I promise to not judge you by your cover, by your bruised corners or your creased pages, but on your silk-feeling interior and the beautiful handwritten calligraphy inside your book. I won’t love you based on your word count or your word choice or on the markings of what was once your words are now erased. We all make mistakes, all of us, we get so lost in the words of the story that sometimes, we forget who we are, where we came from. We make mistakes, that’s why we have erasers on our pencils, and the delete button on our keyboards, and, AutoCorrect. I will love you for your overwhelming beauty and charm, no matter how many red lines on the bottom of your words or the inaccuracy or unreliability of your sources. I will love you for you, whenever we find each other. I will read your book 20 times before I get to say that I’m your biggest fan, and I’ll have memorized each and every word of your chapters, before we start to write our own. So one day, I’ll be roaming the halls, looking through the novels, and I’ll see you, in the corner of the room, drinking coffee and reading Twain or Rowling or Seuss or whatever, and you’ll look up, our eyes will meet, and sparks will fly. I will walk up to you, stupid stride, goofy face and all, stick out my hand and say “Hi, I’m Xavier, and I’ve been looking for you my whole life.” You’ll smile at my gesture, shake my hand and say “Hi, I’m-”   To be continued…

Sophomore Tatum Jenkins

Poem Title: Star Crossed

I’m floating
Intertwining with the stars
The sky has so many shades of color
Deep ocean blue
Sunset purple
Pine green
I’m intergalactic
My soul doesn’t belong anywhere
I’m not a person
I’m not a body
I’m stars
Twinkling, bright stars
My eyes are an endless galaxy
My hair, a solar system
My toes and fingers, planets
I see a soul that fits with mine
We touch so softly that our
galaxies remain separate
Yet we are
Star Crossed

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