Literary Submissions
-You can write short stories, poems, or novels and publish a new chapter every issue.
-All genres are welcome!
-Don't write about real life events if writing fiction.
-Keep each submission under 1,000 words
-Keep the writing clean. Make sure you would feel comfortable with your grandma reading it.
-All submissions can be edited/cut by the literary editor if necessary.
-You must send your real name, but you may use a pen name when being published.
-Publication is not guaranteed.
Please submit all writings to [email protected]
-All genres are welcome!
-Don't write about real life events if writing fiction.
-Keep each submission under 1,000 words
-Keep the writing clean. Make sure you would feel comfortable with your grandma reading it.
-All submissions can be edited/cut by the literary editor if necessary.
-You must send your real name, but you may use a pen name when being published.
-Publication is not guaranteed.
Please submit all writings to [email protected]
A detective's work
By: Olivia Carpenter
They don’t ever take me into consideration. I’m just the social outcast that has to stay in a jail cell whenever they want to go out. My life consists of almost absolutely nothing, except for that one special day, and the fact that I’m a detective. That doesn’t matter, because I only think I’m a detective, I’m not qualified. Anyway, that one day was weird; I kind of remember it. I guess I can try to tell the story… I mean, if you insist.
That day was a bit out of the ordinary. The house was quiet and I was feeling a bit anxious. I don’t know why, I just had a bad feeling I guess. The unsteady thump of rain on the roof was like a fuzzy flashy box (Those things people stare into that make noise and flash pictures), loud and irritating. Also, it sounded a bit more hollow than rain usually does. I couldn’t think clearly; everything was so loud!
I walked into Sandra’s (my pet) room. She feeds me and stuff like that. My claws clicked on the linoleum floor as I entered the bedroom. She was buried under her covers and mumbling things. I heard a few clear words “The Krusty Krab”. What was the Krusty Krab? Whatever. I scrambled onto the bed and tentatively walked over to her, the soft stuff (you know, what people sleep on) sinking with each step. She jolted up, flinging a pillow and holy cow that was scary! I found myself on the floor shivering. Was that me whining? Good grief. I shut myself up fast. No detective would whine like a wimp. No siree.
Sandra gave me one of those looks that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. Then to top it off, she scolded me, got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. That’s when the weird stuff started happening. A strange noise came from the other side of Sandra’s wall outside. I decided to investigate. There was another noise too; oh wait, that was me barking. I quickly shut up and listened to the strange noise. It sounded like Sandra’s machine thingy that she always left the house in, except, maybe a broken one. That thing was horrible. I always got sick when she took me in it. And it traveled so fast! Anyway, I’m sorry, back to the noise. It was a very strange noise. I decided to put my inner detective to work and went through the evidence in my head. Loud rain, broken machine. That’s all I had; I needed more.
I walked to the kitchen and glanced out the window -GREAT SEAS, it was raining tree bark! I do not know how the day could get any weirder. Also, I heard that ugly noise again- of wait, that was me barking. Sorry, tt’s a problem of mine.
Sandra looked outside, then walked out the door. OH MY GOSH. She was going to die out there! Tree bark was deadly. I had to save her... There was no way I could! The door was closed and I couldn’t open it. She would just have to die. OH wait, no because then I wouldn’t get fed.
She came back inside. That was good, no death. BUT WAIT, she had another scent on her now. I smelled an unfamiliar human on her. I had to get outside to examine the scene. After all, every noise and thing I’d seen had come from the outside.
I barked at the door until she let me out; something was certainly different, I just couldn’t place it. I went to mark my territory, when I realized my territory tree was gone; it just vanished. Uncanny isn't it? I think I was piecing the evidence together. Loud rain, broken machine, raining tree bark- oh my gosh. Rain and raining tree bark… that must mean… it was raining really loudly AND it was raining tree bark! Two different types of rain at the same time! Okay, this was getting intense. What other evidence did I have? The missing pee tree, broken machine, human scent... great seas; another piece of evidence.
I walked over to this little contraption. It had bits of bark in the spiky parts of it and had a chain link thing on it; I’d seen these before. They sounded like broken machines. OH MY GOSH. Another piece of the puzzle, coming together. The broken machines, there were two of them.
I had an epiphany. The two types of rain had fallen from the sky so hard that they began to weigh down the tree’s branches. As the branches got lower and lower, they reached the ground and when Sandra went outside, she ran over the branches in her broken machine, breaking them. Then, she met the other human when she was trying to fix her broken machine with the other machine. The force of her riding over the branches brought the tree down and caused it to fall. I still don’t have an explanation for the tree being gone, but at least this case is solved.
I walked back inside and sat by my food bowl. By golly, wasn’t I just the smartest little Schnauzer you ever knew? I solved the pee tree case and it was all such unclear evidence (that just proves how good I really am). No one else could do what I did. Maybe you didn’t have to be a qualified detective to be a good one.
…. And that was the weird day I had. You know what though, I later figured out we’d had the tree removed by a man with a chainsaw, whatever that is. And it wasn’t raining, that had been falling branches.
.. Like I said, I’m not qualified, so you can’t trust everything I say.
-Olivia Carpenter (‘18) first-year Vault staff member and Jr. Web Editor-in-Chief. [email protected]
By: Olivia Carpenter
They don’t ever take me into consideration. I’m just the social outcast that has to stay in a jail cell whenever they want to go out. My life consists of almost absolutely nothing, except for that one special day, and the fact that I’m a detective. That doesn’t matter, because I only think I’m a detective, I’m not qualified. Anyway, that one day was weird; I kind of remember it. I guess I can try to tell the story… I mean, if you insist.
That day was a bit out of the ordinary. The house was quiet and I was feeling a bit anxious. I don’t know why, I just had a bad feeling I guess. The unsteady thump of rain on the roof was like a fuzzy flashy box (Those things people stare into that make noise and flash pictures), loud and irritating. Also, it sounded a bit more hollow than rain usually does. I couldn’t think clearly; everything was so loud!
I walked into Sandra’s (my pet) room. She feeds me and stuff like that. My claws clicked on the linoleum floor as I entered the bedroom. She was buried under her covers and mumbling things. I heard a few clear words “The Krusty Krab”. What was the Krusty Krab? Whatever. I scrambled onto the bed and tentatively walked over to her, the soft stuff (you know, what people sleep on) sinking with each step. She jolted up, flinging a pillow and holy cow that was scary! I found myself on the floor shivering. Was that me whining? Good grief. I shut myself up fast. No detective would whine like a wimp. No siree.
Sandra gave me one of those looks that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. Then to top it off, she scolded me, got out of bed and walked into the kitchen. That’s when the weird stuff started happening. A strange noise came from the other side of Sandra’s wall outside. I decided to investigate. There was another noise too; oh wait, that was me barking. I quickly shut up and listened to the strange noise. It sounded like Sandra’s machine thingy that she always left the house in, except, maybe a broken one. That thing was horrible. I always got sick when she took me in it. And it traveled so fast! Anyway, I’m sorry, back to the noise. It was a very strange noise. I decided to put my inner detective to work and went through the evidence in my head. Loud rain, broken machine. That’s all I had; I needed more.
I walked to the kitchen and glanced out the window -GREAT SEAS, it was raining tree bark! I do not know how the day could get any weirder. Also, I heard that ugly noise again- of wait, that was me barking. Sorry, tt’s a problem of mine.
Sandra looked outside, then walked out the door. OH MY GOSH. She was going to die out there! Tree bark was deadly. I had to save her... There was no way I could! The door was closed and I couldn’t open it. She would just have to die. OH wait, no because then I wouldn’t get fed.
She came back inside. That was good, no death. BUT WAIT, she had another scent on her now. I smelled an unfamiliar human on her. I had to get outside to examine the scene. After all, every noise and thing I’d seen had come from the outside.
I barked at the door until she let me out; something was certainly different, I just couldn’t place it. I went to mark my territory, when I realized my territory tree was gone; it just vanished. Uncanny isn't it? I think I was piecing the evidence together. Loud rain, broken machine, raining tree bark- oh my gosh. Rain and raining tree bark… that must mean… it was raining really loudly AND it was raining tree bark! Two different types of rain at the same time! Okay, this was getting intense. What other evidence did I have? The missing pee tree, broken machine, human scent... great seas; another piece of evidence.
I walked over to this little contraption. It had bits of bark in the spiky parts of it and had a chain link thing on it; I’d seen these before. They sounded like broken machines. OH MY GOSH. Another piece of the puzzle, coming together. The broken machines, there were two of them.
I had an epiphany. The two types of rain had fallen from the sky so hard that they began to weigh down the tree’s branches. As the branches got lower and lower, they reached the ground and when Sandra went outside, she ran over the branches in her broken machine, breaking them. Then, she met the other human when she was trying to fix her broken machine with the other machine. The force of her riding over the branches brought the tree down and caused it to fall. I still don’t have an explanation for the tree being gone, but at least this case is solved.
I walked back inside and sat by my food bowl. By golly, wasn’t I just the smartest little Schnauzer you ever knew? I solved the pee tree case and it was all such unclear evidence (that just proves how good I really am). No one else could do what I did. Maybe you didn’t have to be a qualified detective to be a good one.
…. And that was the weird day I had. You know what though, I later figured out we’d had the tree removed by a man with a chainsaw, whatever that is. And it wasn’t raining, that had been falling branches.
.. Like I said, I’m not qualified, so you can’t trust everything I say.
-Olivia Carpenter (‘18) first-year Vault staff member and Jr. Web Editor-in-Chief. [email protected]
The Long Walk of Gettysburg
By: E.J. Cox
Oh brother! You finally made it! It was such a long drive through those mountains. Yeah they were beautiful but, hey, you had a milkshake at that McDonalds in West Virginia and well it had to make reappearance (and you can’t really pull over on the side of the highway in the mountains). Anyways, you have been driving for about six to seven hours from Ohio and you are exhausted (mind you a hundred and fifty years ago some guys were doing that on foot, but thank the Lord for the automobile)! It’s about seven or eight at night and the kids have been fighting in the backseat over the Gameboy since you exited the interstate so you find a homely restaurant in the town called “General Pickett’s Buffet”. Sounds like a nice little place with some cute little side show to distract the kids from their Pokémon (you think to yourself for a second on who this General Pickett is anyway; probably some sort of Col. Sanders wannabe). You walk in the restaurant and a twenty-something year old waitress takes you into a dark somewhat dank room with a white light dominating a buffet in the center of the room. On the walls are some paintings of some old guys in some gaudy uniforms. Other than that there are pictures on the walls of some reenactors (among who are Jeff Daniels and Stephen Lang). You get what most people usually get at a buffet, gut busting heaps of mashed potatoes and fried chicken with several cups of soda and then coffee and cake, ice cream, and pie for dessert (although where you are currently sitting some poor nineteen year old boy was eating some moldy crackers and rancid bacon with water, but you don’t know that yet). You finish your meal, fit to burst, and as you walk outside you look to the South and see two hills dominating the landscape, and scattered on these hills and in the fields and streets are innumerous amounts of plaques and monuments. You think “Quite impressive, I wonder what th-“ then your thoughts are cut short as your wife yells at you to get in the car and drive to the hotel because she needs a bathroom and does not want to use the one in the restroom and the kids are fighting over the Gameboy again. You quickly hurry to appease your wife and get in the car (however there are some questions and thoughts starting to bubble up in your mind).
BBBBBRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!!! BBBBBBRRRRRIIIIINNNNGGG! You pick up the phone and the lobbyist tells you it is your 7:30 wake-up call. You wake up your wife and kids who fuss in their half-sleep, half-waking stupor that everyone has, “But it’s only 7:30! I couldn’t sleep! The bed was too hard!” You still hurry them up because this is only a pit stop on your way to the grand Myrtle Beach in South Carolina and you only have one day here (but those questions had you turning all night and you need answers!). You go down to the lobby while the rest of your family goes to the dining area for the free continental breakfast. You ask the lobbyist for the best tour of the battlefield and he tells you to do the double-decker bus audio tour. You thank him and quickly wolf down eggs, bacon, and a cup of O.J. Because gas is so expensive and everything is in walking distance you walk with your family to the tour center and reserve a 1:30 tour and then go walking down the road to see all the shops.
Oh what variety! Everything from “Battle of Gettysburg” mugs and t-shirts to toy soldiers to authentic reproductions of uniforms and weapons. Your son buys a package of toy-soldiers, your daughter a little pink rifle (although your wife protested it saying that those things are not what children should be buying because guns are evil). You by your wife a nice pair of “Gettysburg Winery” wine glasses for those nights when you both need to relax. You try on a wool jacket from the war and say out loud “Wow! This stuff is itchy and hot, I cannot imagine wearing it now in the summer time!” The man behind the counter (who himself looks like a grizzled and antiquated soldier) explains that most Confederate soldiers were lucky to have a jacket as nice as that in this point of the war. You exclaim “I would think that would be a relief.” The man behind the counter just sort of shakes his head and explains that in winter they wore the same jacket in the Confederate army. You thank him and leave thinking to yourself “well they fought for slavery so they deserved it!”
You have a hurried lunch of pizza and wings at “Pizza Hut”, run to the hotel to drop off your souvenirs, then walk to the tour bus station to catch your bus. A nice homely looking man drives your bus, he opens the door and your kids dash to the top deck for the best view. You chase after them and finally secure your seats at the front of the top deck. What a nice day it is. The sky is the deepest of blues with just some white clouds as accents and the trees are as green as an emerald. You wait for a while, starting to get hot with sun beating on you (you sort of think of what that would be like in the jacket you tried on). The rest of the passengers eventually board and the bus goes at a slow crawl down the battle field trails. The driver says to put on a set of head phones next to you and a tape plays guiding you through the action. In the fields in front of you, you picture lines of men in blue and grey shooting at each other(you also learn that a number of Confederates walked here with either scraps of shoes or no shoes all the way from Virginia, that must require some dedication to do that). You go from place to place on the bus learning all sorts of facts about generals and the battle.
You arrive at the bus station around 3:30 and decide to walk some of the battle field for a closer look. Your family decides to come along and you walk back to a part of the field where a statue of an open book marks something called the “Watermark of the Confederacy”. You spy a park ranger about your age and ask her about what that statue means. Your family comes over and listens (which surprises you because at this point of the day the kids would usually be at each other’s throats). The woman explains that 150 years ago about 15,000 Confederate soldiers, ranging from your age down to your son’s young age of twelve charged from the distant ridge across from where you are standing, about a mile away. As they came the Union cannons fired exploding shot at the ranks which could kill and maim ten or so men at a time. Then as the Confederates came close, which at this point were already decimated, the Union gunners fired double canister shot at them which would literally tear men into tiny little bits with an intact hand being the biggest piece left of them. Then she explains that 100 Virginians, under a man named Armistead, breached the stonewall for but a several minute period and were then savagely beaten back. As the Confederate soldiers returned back to their line, General Lee(who freed his slaves at the start of the war) greeted his men, who had lost half their original number, by saying “Men, I am sorry, it is all my fault.” The Ranger then explains that his men responded by saying that they would make the charge again and that they could “whup them Yankees!” All because the loved and revered the general with all the passion of a son and his father.
Then it hits you, and your wife, and your children. A feeling supernatural in nature hits you all with the force of a silent locomotive. You look out on the fields lush with grass and wild wheat and you begin to silently weep. It occurs to you those 50,000 men and boys, both north and south, experienced and then died in some wheat field or rock formation, hundreds of miles from their homes and loved ones. You and your family begin to silently hold each other as silent tears roll down your faces. Your human soul becomes aware, and just almost feels, the struggle of 50,000 other human souls in their struggle to make it out of most literally, hell on earth. You can almost feel the loss of life in your bones. Human beings being ripped apart, shot, bashed, stabbed. You feel weak in the knees and your wife hugs you tightly with your children hugging your legs.
You all stand there a while looking out at the fields, and forestry and rocks contemplating and storing this moment in your memories. You walk back to the hotel silent as can be. You will remember this moment till you die. This moment here in a little tourist attraction in Pennsylvania known as Gettysburg.
-E.J. Cox ('15) is a NHS student and active Civil War re-enactor.
By: E.J. Cox
Oh brother! You finally made it! It was such a long drive through those mountains. Yeah they were beautiful but, hey, you had a milkshake at that McDonalds in West Virginia and well it had to make reappearance (and you can’t really pull over on the side of the highway in the mountains). Anyways, you have been driving for about six to seven hours from Ohio and you are exhausted (mind you a hundred and fifty years ago some guys were doing that on foot, but thank the Lord for the automobile)! It’s about seven or eight at night and the kids have been fighting in the backseat over the Gameboy since you exited the interstate so you find a homely restaurant in the town called “General Pickett’s Buffet”. Sounds like a nice little place with some cute little side show to distract the kids from their Pokémon (you think to yourself for a second on who this General Pickett is anyway; probably some sort of Col. Sanders wannabe). You walk in the restaurant and a twenty-something year old waitress takes you into a dark somewhat dank room with a white light dominating a buffet in the center of the room. On the walls are some paintings of some old guys in some gaudy uniforms. Other than that there are pictures on the walls of some reenactors (among who are Jeff Daniels and Stephen Lang). You get what most people usually get at a buffet, gut busting heaps of mashed potatoes and fried chicken with several cups of soda and then coffee and cake, ice cream, and pie for dessert (although where you are currently sitting some poor nineteen year old boy was eating some moldy crackers and rancid bacon with water, but you don’t know that yet). You finish your meal, fit to burst, and as you walk outside you look to the South and see two hills dominating the landscape, and scattered on these hills and in the fields and streets are innumerous amounts of plaques and monuments. You think “Quite impressive, I wonder what th-“ then your thoughts are cut short as your wife yells at you to get in the car and drive to the hotel because she needs a bathroom and does not want to use the one in the restroom and the kids are fighting over the Gameboy again. You quickly hurry to appease your wife and get in the car (however there are some questions and thoughts starting to bubble up in your mind).
BBBBBRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!!! BBBBBBRRRRRIIIIINNNNGGG! You pick up the phone and the lobbyist tells you it is your 7:30 wake-up call. You wake up your wife and kids who fuss in their half-sleep, half-waking stupor that everyone has, “But it’s only 7:30! I couldn’t sleep! The bed was too hard!” You still hurry them up because this is only a pit stop on your way to the grand Myrtle Beach in South Carolina and you only have one day here (but those questions had you turning all night and you need answers!). You go down to the lobby while the rest of your family goes to the dining area for the free continental breakfast. You ask the lobbyist for the best tour of the battlefield and he tells you to do the double-decker bus audio tour. You thank him and quickly wolf down eggs, bacon, and a cup of O.J. Because gas is so expensive and everything is in walking distance you walk with your family to the tour center and reserve a 1:30 tour and then go walking down the road to see all the shops.
Oh what variety! Everything from “Battle of Gettysburg” mugs and t-shirts to toy soldiers to authentic reproductions of uniforms and weapons. Your son buys a package of toy-soldiers, your daughter a little pink rifle (although your wife protested it saying that those things are not what children should be buying because guns are evil). You by your wife a nice pair of “Gettysburg Winery” wine glasses for those nights when you both need to relax. You try on a wool jacket from the war and say out loud “Wow! This stuff is itchy and hot, I cannot imagine wearing it now in the summer time!” The man behind the counter (who himself looks like a grizzled and antiquated soldier) explains that most Confederate soldiers were lucky to have a jacket as nice as that in this point of the war. You exclaim “I would think that would be a relief.” The man behind the counter just sort of shakes his head and explains that in winter they wore the same jacket in the Confederate army. You thank him and leave thinking to yourself “well they fought for slavery so they deserved it!”
You have a hurried lunch of pizza and wings at “Pizza Hut”, run to the hotel to drop off your souvenirs, then walk to the tour bus station to catch your bus. A nice homely looking man drives your bus, he opens the door and your kids dash to the top deck for the best view. You chase after them and finally secure your seats at the front of the top deck. What a nice day it is. The sky is the deepest of blues with just some white clouds as accents and the trees are as green as an emerald. You wait for a while, starting to get hot with sun beating on you (you sort of think of what that would be like in the jacket you tried on). The rest of the passengers eventually board and the bus goes at a slow crawl down the battle field trails. The driver says to put on a set of head phones next to you and a tape plays guiding you through the action. In the fields in front of you, you picture lines of men in blue and grey shooting at each other(you also learn that a number of Confederates walked here with either scraps of shoes or no shoes all the way from Virginia, that must require some dedication to do that). You go from place to place on the bus learning all sorts of facts about generals and the battle.
You arrive at the bus station around 3:30 and decide to walk some of the battle field for a closer look. Your family decides to come along and you walk back to a part of the field where a statue of an open book marks something called the “Watermark of the Confederacy”. You spy a park ranger about your age and ask her about what that statue means. Your family comes over and listens (which surprises you because at this point of the day the kids would usually be at each other’s throats). The woman explains that 150 years ago about 15,000 Confederate soldiers, ranging from your age down to your son’s young age of twelve charged from the distant ridge across from where you are standing, about a mile away. As they came the Union cannons fired exploding shot at the ranks which could kill and maim ten or so men at a time. Then as the Confederates came close, which at this point were already decimated, the Union gunners fired double canister shot at them which would literally tear men into tiny little bits with an intact hand being the biggest piece left of them. Then she explains that 100 Virginians, under a man named Armistead, breached the stonewall for but a several minute period and were then savagely beaten back. As the Confederate soldiers returned back to their line, General Lee(who freed his slaves at the start of the war) greeted his men, who had lost half their original number, by saying “Men, I am sorry, it is all my fault.” The Ranger then explains that his men responded by saying that they would make the charge again and that they could “whup them Yankees!” All because the loved and revered the general with all the passion of a son and his father.
Then it hits you, and your wife, and your children. A feeling supernatural in nature hits you all with the force of a silent locomotive. You look out on the fields lush with grass and wild wheat and you begin to silently weep. It occurs to you those 50,000 men and boys, both north and south, experienced and then died in some wheat field or rock formation, hundreds of miles from their homes and loved ones. You and your family begin to silently hold each other as silent tears roll down your faces. Your human soul becomes aware, and just almost feels, the struggle of 50,000 other human souls in their struggle to make it out of most literally, hell on earth. You can almost feel the loss of life in your bones. Human beings being ripped apart, shot, bashed, stabbed. You feel weak in the knees and your wife hugs you tightly with your children hugging your legs.
You all stand there a while looking out at the fields, and forestry and rocks contemplating and storing this moment in your memories. You walk back to the hotel silent as can be. You will remember this moment till you die. This moment here in a little tourist attraction in Pennsylvania known as Gettysburg.
-E.J. Cox ('15) is a NHS student and active Civil War re-enactor.