Once upon a time, there were two friends, Sam and Mackenzie. They were sisters; they always sat under the tree every day after school discussing their problems and drama in school. One day, Sam said, “There is a new kid coming to school tomorrow. His name is David.” Mackenzie said, “Cool. I can’t wait to meet him!” The next day, David came to school with the president.
Samantha M
I sit under the old maple tree. I look through a box of old photos. I sit and think about all of these memories. I reach the last photo. It looks recent. I flip it over and read the back. “To Red: 'I hid this box for you to find under this tree. Clearly you found it. If you are reading this then I will be in Heaven with the angels with ma’ and pa’. Take care of us. Stop by our graves and enjoy the scenery.' –Sean.” I put the photos back in the box. I seal it and put it back in the hole where I found it. I take the makeshift map Sean made as a kid and put it in the glovebox of my car. I drive to their gravesite. I park at the top of a hill. This spot is where we used to have picnics. I sit against the graves and unwrap the sandwich I have packed. I eat and head to my car. I get the flowers and crosses out of my trunk. I put them on the graves and arrange them so that the flowers are leaning against their crosses. I sit under a tree that is nearby the graves. I watch the sunset as the frogs sing and the stars shine. I fall asleep under the tree and rest with my family.
Brayden G
I am under a really bad, stupid tree. It’s so cold outside that I’m literally shaking, and the leaves keep falling, and it bothers me. I hate being under this tree, and so I decide to get up and walk away from this awful tree. I start walking home.
Olive O
I put down my incredibly boring book. I’m too uncomfortable to focus. The tree is so orange; it's blinding me. A leaf falls on my face, and I blow it off my face. This is why I don’t go outside.
Sydney B
I looked up at the yellowing tree as I took a big breath of air. All I could think was "This tree is so pretty," while I look back down and continue to walk down the dirt path. I came here to get some peace, away from everything going on in my life because no matter what I do nothing ever changes for the better, and I just need to get away from it all. The tree is so pretty though. It makes me think everything is all right. But I know it's not. Everything in my life is so boring and grey. What is the point of everything, I keep wondering. What is stopping me from leaving this earth forever? Everyone says suicide is selfish, but I don’t understand why. When you don’t have anyone to care if you do it or not. But, as I look at the tree, it makes me want to keep fighting here. It makes me want to keep going to school, to keep going home, and to keep going online and seeing all the hateful comments about me. It makes me feel like I can do it. I can do it!
Ari M
As I sit under the towering tree, I think about how I got here. The branches extruding from the trunk reminds me of how we are all intricately designed and have our differences. With its tired leaves coming down with each afternoon breeze, it makes me wonder what this tree has seen in its long life. Or maybe how it grew up with its stiff bark and weak branches. As the days march on, it grows darker and darker with each falling leaf.
James M
My legs stayed vertical lining up with the bark's grooves. My hair was fanned out across the lush grass. The breeze fluttered the pages of my book revealing the notes I left in the margins of previous pages. Although the wind made it chilly, the sun was still out. It shined through the thin orange leaves. A chipmunk crawled up the oak tree and stared down at me. I can imagine its view, the leaves making a slight orange tint over my skin, my sweater wrinkled. My sweater was chunky and made with love. Its auburn color made me really feel like it was fall. Then my eyes stayed locked on each word of my book before I realized time had already flown by. The stretched-out branches of the tree seemed dull without the sun illuminating the leaves.
Charlotte C
Samantha M
I sit under the old maple tree. I look through a box of old photos. I sit and think about all of these memories. I reach the last photo. It looks recent. I flip it over and read the back. “To Red: 'I hid this box for you to find under this tree. Clearly you found it. If you are reading this then I will be in Heaven with the angels with ma’ and pa’. Take care of us. Stop by our graves and enjoy the scenery.' –Sean.” I put the photos back in the box. I seal it and put it back in the hole where I found it. I take the makeshift map Sean made as a kid and put it in the glovebox of my car. I drive to their gravesite. I park at the top of a hill. This spot is where we used to have picnics. I sit against the graves and unwrap the sandwich I have packed. I eat and head to my car. I get the flowers and crosses out of my trunk. I put them on the graves and arrange them so that the flowers are leaning against their crosses. I sit under a tree that is nearby the graves. I watch the sunset as the frogs sing and the stars shine. I fall asleep under the tree and rest with my family.
Brayden G
I am under a really bad, stupid tree. It’s so cold outside that I’m literally shaking, and the leaves keep falling, and it bothers me. I hate being under this tree, and so I decide to get up and walk away from this awful tree. I start walking home.
Olive O
I put down my incredibly boring book. I’m too uncomfortable to focus. The tree is so orange; it's blinding me. A leaf falls on my face, and I blow it off my face. This is why I don’t go outside.
Sydney B
I looked up at the yellowing tree as I took a big breath of air. All I could think was "This tree is so pretty," while I look back down and continue to walk down the dirt path. I came here to get some peace, away from everything going on in my life because no matter what I do nothing ever changes for the better, and I just need to get away from it all. The tree is so pretty though. It makes me think everything is all right. But I know it's not. Everything in my life is so boring and grey. What is the point of everything, I keep wondering. What is stopping me from leaving this earth forever? Everyone says suicide is selfish, but I don’t understand why. When you don’t have anyone to care if you do it or not. But, as I look at the tree, it makes me want to keep fighting here. It makes me want to keep going to school, to keep going home, and to keep going online and seeing all the hateful comments about me. It makes me feel like I can do it. I can do it!
Ari M
As I sit under the towering tree, I think about how I got here. The branches extruding from the trunk reminds me of how we are all intricately designed and have our differences. With its tired leaves coming down with each afternoon breeze, it makes me wonder what this tree has seen in its long life. Or maybe how it grew up with its stiff bark and weak branches. As the days march on, it grows darker and darker with each falling leaf.
James M
My legs stayed vertical lining up with the bark's grooves. My hair was fanned out across the lush grass. The breeze fluttered the pages of my book revealing the notes I left in the margins of previous pages. Although the wind made it chilly, the sun was still out. It shined through the thin orange leaves. A chipmunk crawled up the oak tree and stared down at me. I can imagine its view, the leaves making a slight orange tint over my skin, my sweater wrinkled. My sweater was chunky and made with love. Its auburn color made me really feel like it was fall. Then my eyes stayed locked on each word of my book before I realized time had already flown by. The stretched-out branches of the tree seemed dull without the sun illuminating the leaves.
Charlotte C