Young Writers Society

Frost Lark News                                                9/26/16

"ELECTION" by Spencer Sharp

The election rages on, and it is living nightmares in Frost Lark. Violence everywhere, driven by the personal opinions of people to foolish to realize that in the grand scheme of existence, this day will make no difference. Our town has reached a stalemate... Supporters of Sarah Lynn fighting supporters of Gregory Fitzgerald. If this does not end soon, I believe that we will likely face a complete collapse in this town. And so, this is a message for our home. Stop. Give up. Voting is only a moment of your life, but suspended in that moment, you are too short sighted to realize it. Don't bring total destruction to our town.

"JOURNAL ENTRIES OF WARFARE" by Skyla Holt

Entry One: I am out on the battlefield, serving my town. For those of you still hiding in your basement and somehow reading the newspapers, it is complete war out on the streets. Violence everywhere, taken to the extreme. For instance, that man is now holding up a gun. And, oh! He's firing at m-

Entry Six: Three days in the hospital for a gun shot to the abdomen has taught me that if a man points a gun at you, run. Luckily, our genetically modified bodies can't actually be permanently injured by a bullet, but... Uh... Just run.

Entry Twenty Seven: This war is tiring. Mostly because I was told to write thirty three entries over the span of five days, three of which I spent in a hospital bed. I have been writing almost non-stop, and when I'm not, I'm fighting.

Entry Twenty Nine: I have been informed that the papers will only be using about five of my entries. Why do I need to write the others, then?!

Entry Thirty Two: Total casualties have reached seven. And injured numbers are even larger, at about four. I think that's larger... It is, right? I never excelled at Math, or for that matter any school classes. I was always the worst at Agricultural Combat Practice. Yet, here I am, on the battlefield. God, I hate my job sometimes.

"HOW TO CARE FOR YOUR PRISONER" by Erick Harvey

As you may know   As you should know, I care for the prisoners in the printing facility   I definitely don't care for any prisoners at the printing facility, since we have none, and I am going to give you a few tips on keeping your very own prisoner! For one, make sure they have food and water. A dead prisoner can't be used for any torture! Also, keep it trapped in a small space. For some reason, prisoners have a tendency to attempt escape. I know! Crazy, right? Lastly, don't let the janitors clean your prisoner's enclosed fixture. We all know what happened when a janitor was let loose in the Frost Lark High School last may!

"ELECTION" (continued) by Spencer Sharp

Volunteer soldiers have broken into my writing closet! I am fighting with two hands while writing with the third (tutorial on my YouTube channel), but things are looking bleak for me. Oh! Ginger Murray has just walked in. Uh, hi. A, um, little assistance would be nice... What? Your asking why I'm documenting this entire conversation from my perspective. Good question. I have no answer... Still fighting though. How about we ask questions later and focus on the crazy lunatics overrunning my office? Yes, of course I work in my closet. Where else would I work?

Survey

Who are you going to vote for?

a) Gregory Fitzgerald

b) Sarah Lynn

c) We need more options

d) This is a space filler

e) We always have an “e” option

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Ha. You actually tried to figure out what that meant. What a joke.

-Apple Computer

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"THE FESTIVAL OF THE FLICKERING LIGHTS" by Markus Gerald

At the time of this print's release, The Festival of the Flickering Lights has begun. This is why we interrupted our usual schedule of Sunday prints for this Monday print. For the limited number of outsiders this town has, we will explain that The Festival of the Flickering Lights is an eight day holiday. On the first night, we power eight cheap LED lights. Then every night including the first night, we drop one on the floor and watch it break. It is called what it is called because usually the LEDs sold around this time are very inexpensive and often flicker rather than produce a steady light. The history of this holiday is that a higher up member of a holy worshiping place had bad luck during eight days three hundred years ago. Every day for those eight days he dropped a candle. However, candles are kind of pricey in the tundra, so we use LEDs.