2024
GRAND PRIZE | ELEMENTARY
Leela GHOSH – Whispers From the Waterfront – was in 4th grade at Alexander Montessori School.
Teacher: Ellen Kahn
Excerpt form the story
….. “Like any other normal day, I was walking by the water in Brickell Key, which is a tiny man-made island in Miami. I did this regularly every Sunday to feed the pigeons. I was standing on the ledge in front of the ocean, throwing the crumbs down at the pigeons when they all flew up around me, bombarding me with feathers. I lost my footing and fell onto the rocks below me. I tried to grab onto the ledge, but it was too far away now. I screamed for help, hoping someone would hear me, but over the commotion, no one could hear me. Nobody even turned around to see where my scream was coming from. My head was throbbing from hitting the rocks, and all the pigeons flew over me, dropping breadcrumbs on my head. The water was cold, and I could feel my clothes getting soggy and sticking to me. I felt as if I was a balloon that had just popped and was falling to the ground uselessly.
Then I heard a murmur. I thought maybe the same thing had happened to someone else. I went deeper to see what it was when I saw manatees discussing something that I could barely make out. I was surprised that manatees could talk but even more surprised that I could understand them.”
GRAND PRIZE | MIDDLE SCHOOL
Emilia RAMOS SAMPER – Paper Flowers – was in 8th grade at Palmer Trinity School.
Teacher: Emily Rolling
Excerpt form the story
Now, I’m not crazy; I know my father isn’t alive. Still, Mama always said he wasn’t going to heaven, so logic says he’s still around here somewhere. Hiding in a book. Peeking through an air hole or tumbling down my methodically organized shelves. It’s not like the wind wrecked my rainbow-perfect shelves! When you think about it, the thought isn’t all that far-fetched. It’s not like the old man has anyone else left on earth to haunt! I was the only stop on his train bound for the living world and odds are he didn’t see the need to purchase a return trip.
Forgive me, you must be so confused! I’m Ana, and I’ve lived in this underground library for four of my nine years in this freezing world. Until these scraggly men with bloodshot eyes locked us all here, pulled out their guns, and– you know what? I doubt you want all the details!
Anyway, after discovering that corsets save lives and underground libraries contain matching
underground bunkers, my life was set! See, I’ve got food, water, books, and absolutely no need to venture out into the great disaster exploding above me. Don’t you dare pity my spectacular life, because I reside in a cozy, candle-lit library with enough entertainment to last me a lifetime and an entire family surrounding me. Oh, that just reminded me; I have to finish the morning rounds!”
GRAND PRIZE | HIGH SCHOOL
Patrick KEEDY BROWN – Deliver Us – was in 10th grade at Ransom Everglades School.
Teacher: Elizabeth Cornick
Excerpt from the story
…. “I am walking down a long hallway. Everything is dark, so dark I cannot see my hand outstretched in front of me, but I still know where to go. I know where I am. I come into the breakfast room, my hand knowing where to find the doorknob in the black. I can see the table, its bright wooden surface standing stark against the rest of the room. It’s the only thing I can see.
I instinctively take my seat, on the long side, opposite Elias’. The ridges are familiar to me, the shape of my body etching into the chair from years of habitual use.
I see the rest of the chairs empty. No, no, let me take the other chair. Papa’s chair. I creep over to the head of the table and sink myself into its imposing wooden frame. The chair feels too big for me, too old, too powerful. The minutes tick by. Perhaps they are hours.
On the other side of the table, the shadows begin to part like stage curtains opening. I see something, a cup, a large and ornate golden cup. It’s being held by a hand. I can see the bones through the near-translucent skin, the veins stark against the pale surface. It looks like the hand that belonged to my grandfather; old.
Against my will, I feel my legs unbending, and I begin to stand.”
LA PLUME POETRY AWARD
Katherine NUNEZ – Is This My Reality? – was in 9th grade at MCA academy.
Teacher: Christina Lantigua
Excerpt from the poem
We all start the same
Welcomed and tame.
The warmth that once held us has left us
The cold air washes over
And my journey has begun.
Unaware of what awaits me these bright lights pierce through me.
The rocky road home represents perfectly what I am to expect
Little did I know that that road home that drive back would be my future.
Every pothole, every bump, every turn, every stop. Accidents and anger ignite.
My story has just begun
Sitting in my bed confused
Staring through the wall
Cross-legged I realize my life has developed…
The little girl I used to be would be so happy to be me now.
The same little girl that always used to smile.
That little innocent being with no anger or enemy.
I sit reminiscing my past
Remembering that little girl
Have I disappointed her?
Thinking about the time when I felt safe
The time on those swings
I felt free
The wind flowing through my hair
The fresh air hitting my face
The feeling of flying
The soreness in my cheeks from smiling
The happiness in my eyes
Soaring through the air
Each push sending me higher
FIRST PLACE | ELEMENTARY
Alexandra SALADRIGAS – Free – was in 4th grade at St Philip’s Episcopal School.
Teacher: Travis Cooper
Excerpt from the story
—- “Her parents looked down at their feet. Maria knew they couldn’t control anything that was
happening, but her temper got the best of her. Again, she stormed up the stairs. She dumped
her bag and all its contents on the floor, and then filled her satchel to the brim with clothes.
Using the little room she had left, she stuck Pepito (the beloved and tattered stuffed duck she
couldn’t sleep without) in her bag, along with a few of her favorite books and the best picture
she had of her family. She carried it down to the kitchen and saw her parents holding similar,
overstuffed bags. Maria took one last look at her casita – the only home she had ever known.”
FIRST PLACE | MIDDLE SCHOOL
Sydney BARBA – The Cats POV – was in 7th grade at Barba Academy.
Excerpt from the story
…. “During the alterations in her quarters, Louise tries on the dress because she is about the same size as Madeleine Astor. All of a sudden there is screaming and doors slamming. People are rushing by our room, heading in one direction, which must be the way out. Louise grabs me and runs down the hall. Once we reach the deck, people are shoving us forward to get onto
lifeboats. The ship is not ok; this scratch is a huge tear and the Titanic is sinking. People are
confusing Louise for Madeleine Astor. Someone shouts and counts as sixty-four people load
onto the lifeboat. Someone shouts, “Sixty-five!” as they shove me into the boat and lower us
down to the water. Across, I see another boat being lowered down with Madeleine Astor and a
nurse. She was the young girl who had led us through the massive stateroom. Madeleine was
crying and holding her pregnant belly. It was late and cold, and soon enough, I was asleep in
Louise’s bag while we floated away from the sinking ship and sailed for help.”
FIRST PLACE | HIGH SCHOOL
Sophia ROMANOV IMBER – Katerina Never Was – was in 12th grade at Ransom Everglades School.
Teacher: Matthew Helmers
Excerpt from the story
Once Katerina understood her cold feet, purple legs, and flared ribs as separate from her,
she understood, this body, her body was not hers. Perhaps it never was.
Her curved back against the wall, she felt the stone like another limb. The stone stretched
its arms, waking from a deep slumber. The stone, once pleased with its morning inhale, wrapped its arms around Katerina.
One lock after another opened until the clicks reached three.
The officer took one step and he was at arm’s length from Katerina, but could kick her
toilet if he wanted to. There was only so much space for the two of them.
“The last appeal was resolved. The judge issued the order of execution. Your date is four
weeks from today.”
Then he left before Katerina could find comfort in the new presence. Her mind loved
toying with her.
She could tell you how long she had been dying. But Katerina couldn’t tell you how
happy she was to finally die.
This body she was given rotted in front of her eyes. She was dirty. Residue on her skin.
Plaque on her teeth. Matted hair. Dead skin on her feet. She was rotting. Despite it all, she
couldn’t feel the ground when she walked.
Katerina still leaned her head against the wall looking for the window behind her eyes
where, and only where, she’d find the sun.
Four weeks watched Katerina decay. She could no longer feel time pass in her mind or
through her eyes—there was never change before her eyes—instead, she saw time pass in her
skin. It shed like a snake. Katerina was reduced to flesh and voice. But who was she speaking to?
She rose from her bed. Sweat on her neck. Her right foot ran down her left calf. She
picked at her eyebrows, then her eyelashes like a child who couldn’t hold their words in much
longer.”