Olivia Nunez, Special Contributor
• November 24, 2022
As I continued to walk, tears started rolling down my face. The ground was black, burnt up, and crisp crunched like a fallen leaf in Fall.
This was once a lush meadow covered in a thin blanket of gorgeous...
Hair meant everything to me when my aunt had lost all hers to chemo two years ago. She had beautiful, long, thick, black hair.
I remember the week we flew back up to North Dakota sitting on the gray...
Vee Forshay, Special Contributor
• November 9, 2022
My husband has been acting strange lately.
He’s been staying out way longer than he should; he comes home smelling like fresh cologne, and he refuses to kiss me, or give me any affection for that...
Gray Carney, Special Contributor
• October 27, 2022
I was always too tall for my bed which meant my feet normally hung off the edge of ever since I was young. The bed would fit me for a few months, but I’d inevitably grow out of it. As I grew and got...
The sides of my cheeks pulled my lips into a tight smile as I stood in a circle around the grooming area. It was the first day of horse camp. The sun shone through the big doors just down the hall, filling...
There was something moving. Another spider.
Teresa went to the bathroom to fetch some toilet paper and crushed the second spider. She then wondered if there were more lurking around. Teresa wasn’t fond of dealing with the spiders, but it gave her something to do.
Zach watched the clock tick with a hand on his face and an elbow on his desk as he waited for the bell to ring. It was a conundrum, he was absolutely bored in his classes, but he hoped they would stretch...
We shuffled into a little room, where others already sat. A girl maybe 15, my brother’s age. A boy my age, eyes suspicious. A weary mother cradling a baby. All of us were uneasy, and the tension was as thick and heavy. Like the mud around us.
Kate Greiner, Special Contributor
• December 14, 2021
The following piece won the Quill and Scroll writing contest for December 2021.
She listens to the ticking of the clock,
Pen glistening by the light of the morning.
Ink dried... still infinitely
Stuck...
As the year closes and students and teachers start to look back on the past year with the Frederick Dreamcatcher decided to look back ourselves with some poetry. Below are several pantoums from Mr. Coon’s...
