Each day for the month of October, our students have sketched post-it notes aligned with a daily theme. Our hallways in the 300 room wing have been alive with conversation of each art piece; such conversations have carried over into room 310 as well, with Mrs. Sampson’s Creative Writing class. Every 7 days, a new story is displayed with the post-it note that inspired her students. Once complete, the class votes on the story that best reflects the post-it. The winner for Days 1 thru 7 is…(drum roll, please)…McKenzie Hayden with her story, you can find below.
Murky Waters Lake
Do not fish at Murky Waters Lake, they said; this lake has other life lurking below, they said. Over the past 6 months, fishermen have reported supernatural sightings amidst the cloudy waters of Murky Waters Lake. Every report describes a similar creature—it is ravenous, conscious, and carefree. It looks like an angler, but it is much more dangerous than the average angler. It feeds off of the fisher’s energy until he is drained of life, cold and gray.
Fisherman Parker Jansson read this week’s newspaper, where the Leviathan was mentioned, and he took himself to this lake, prepared to pick a fight with whatever was creeping below the surface. He had prepared his boat like he would on any other trip, unbothered by the potential consequences of encountering the town’s new legend. The water was foggy, discolored and still, and it began to influence Jansson’s state of mind. He felt hazy and delirious, but was adamant on finding this lifeform for himself. When he reached the most distant part of the lake from the dock, the boat began to shake and rumble, and Jansson lost his balance and crashed onto the boat’s floor. He snatched his pole and held it between himself and what he assumed was the monster in front of him. And there, in front of Jansson’s eyes, it emerged from the water. It inspected the boat, tapping the sides and letting it bobble along the water. Then a small bass swam into its line of sight, and the bass had been engulfed by the monster in the blink of an eye. The monster, satisfied with its meal, sinks and becomes one with the water’s abyss. “Really?” Jansson scoffed. “You’re not scary, you’re just hungry,” he paddles back towards the dock. . .not knowing that the bass was only the appetizer.
