Hello! We are The Paw Print a newspaper by the students, for the students. We want to encourage students to use this space to voice their opinions, display their talents, inform others about their passions, and most of all: enjoy writing.

We hope you enjoy reading our monthly editions!


-The Paw Print executive team

Tuesday, 14 February 2017

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Edition 001

SHORT STORY

By: Graciela Menjivar


With me...

I am a single 32 year old mom that used to have a pair of twins. The girl was called Cynthia and the boy was called Connor. They were and are my everything, but they are not longer with me, and here is why. Connor disappeared two years ago when he was only 6 years old, and those were devastating news for everyone in our family, except for Cynthia, she was completely calm, and claimed that he was going to be with her forever, and I understood that, since twins are believed to be connected in some way.
Cynthia was a beautiful little girl, she had long red curly hair, fair skin and big hazel eyes that fooled anyone. She was also very intelligent, but she had to be homeschooled. She used to manipulate her classmates and bullied them. Teachers didn’t like her attitude because almost anything she did for anyone was only because she saw a benefit for herself. The school blamed me, and told me that I should find a new husband because that was the reason for my girl’s behaviour. But it wasn’t, and I knew it.
It was a sunny day when it all happened. That morning I spent crying my heart out thinking about my Connor, when suddenly my little girl knocked on the brownish antique door.
“Mommy, why are you crying? Are you okay?” she asked with a sweet tone. I didn't answer. “You are crying because of Connor huh? Don't be silly mom, he is alright! Come, I want to show you something!”. I followed my daughter to her bedroom. I looked around and smiled. I saw how organized she was, Cynthia had her bed done, the pink walls were clean without any scribbles and she had pictures of me and Connor all over the room. “Come and see mom!”. She carefully opened her white and purple big treasure chest that she had next to her bedroom. I gasped.
Inside the treasure chest there were five jars filled with formaldehyde, and inside them was Connor. He was carefully dissected, one jar had his heart, the second one had his hands, the third one had his feet and the fourth one had his head. I immediately ran to the kitchen and called the police. Cynthia came to me and said, “I told you mommy, he was with me”.
Currently I’m surrounded by white walls in where I can barely see the sunlight. I’ve been trying to open the blue door in front of me but it is locked. They don't have any proof that I killed my husband and daughter, so why did they locked me in? Also why is my family worrying so much? I’m constantly telling everyone that they don't have to worry about them, my husband and daughter are well protected with me…

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