Poetry: Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them


mischievous yet adorable nifflers

treasure diggers prized by goblins

unleash them in a bank to wreck pandemonium

tickle their magical pouch upside-down;

you’ll find sickles and galleons raining down


bowtruckles, a locksmith’s aide

with their deft long sharp fingers,

twist, turn, click – access granted

camouflaged, these tree dwellers are

sought after for their nimbleness


erumpents’ attacks prove fatal

with a horn containing deadly fluid

it’s humongous and spell-resistant

yet erumpent musk and a mating dance

prove to be its undoing


thunderbird; magnificent beasts

feathers shimmering with cloud-like patterns

majestically arching their wings,

thunderstorms follow their flight;

blinding the city with electrifying light


I was inspired to write this piece as I felt intrigued by the abilities and distinct personalities that each magical creature in the film had. Through poetry, I wished to capture their uniqueness in terms of appearance and other distinct characteristics. As such, the reader would hopefully find them more endearing, and have a better insight into the range of magical creatures Newt Scamander possesses in his brown leather trunk, as well as the depth of understanding he has regarding these creatures.

Chloe Kho (3T)



I think I am crazy,

to be writing about them.

But let me be me,

for I can’t function without this band.


Two thousand thirteen,

November twenty second.

That Friday evening,

at 11.44pm.


They danced into my life

without a single warning.

And their voices like knifes,

got me crying.


The love of a fan,

is like that of a parent,

we do what we can,

this is apparent.


They stole my heart,

but not to keep.

What I think is art,

is simply for their keep.


Honestly, I stopped caring,

along the way,

I grew to be daring,

against what people say.


Judge me for all I care,

EXO is my idol.

I just need them to be there,

so I won’t be suicidal.


Ang Yen Chi

2 Unity

Poetry: Leukaemia and Loved Ones


mama’s eyes are milky chocolate

ringed in the grey of Snowy’s fur;

a white-turned-dirty grimy smudge

the well-worn marks of the loved.

mama’s eyes are pain-free, sting-free.


(i want to squeeze Snowy against my chest, but she’s at home on my bed mama says, “At rest”)


i reach out a pointed finger,

trace the hollows brimming

with salty pearls I try to catch-

they are splashing silver fish

that slip silently down my wrist.


(they tickle a little and thread past my arm, a second set of shiny tubes)


i want to tell my mama

to shut those eyes,

catch those shines;

before they pelt my

heart and hurt.


(a hurt deep in my belly, it pulses like another heart, grips my bones wrenches me apart)


but i can’t-

i’m too tired-

from holding

back my own

salty tears.


(my bones are screaming my stomach flipping)


i’m sorry

i’m sorry

i’m sorry


(i would hold my pain a hundred times over, if it would make my heart stronger)


i don’t-

i didn’t-

want to leave either


(somethin’s pressin’ down on me)


Chloe Wong, 3P

Short Story: Fear

The best way out is always through’ ~Robert Frost




There was nothing.

Literally nothing.

All that remained was darkness.

Looking back at the room he once thought was ‘safe and cosy’, was nothing more than despair and horror. He turned back, fixing his eyes towards that destination like a watchful hawk eager to catch its prey. He’d been having those creepy visions of monsters again and he couldn’t stand it. He had to seek help.

Seek help from her.

He knew it was dangerous, he’d been told many times not to go to her for help. It wouldn’t work, he couldn’t get better. However, there was nothing else.

No option.

He made sure to tread carefully. Walking very slowly across the long corridor, he silently prayed for some sort of light at the end. He reached out, hoping to catch himself if he fell. Nothing came. Groping around, he could not find anything. Nothing to help him.

Darkness was engulfing him and everything in front of it. His heart was pulsating, about to burst out of his chest. His hands felt sweaty, unable to feel the cold air in the room. He scanned the surroundings hurriedly, as if about to be ambushed.

He wanted to end this once and for all. He could do it and yet it was not possible. He was missing something, something he could not find. There was one thing, like a key to turn the lock or a switch. He could not. He was scared.

Just then, he saw a light. A hope for him. A way out of this mess. He treaded towards this light. He knew it was too good to be true. He had to try. Suddenly, he felt something. Relief engulfed me. He hadn’t lost all sense yet. He could feel and touch!

He had done it. Feeling the surface, he found a small crack from which the light came from. Edging through it, he found the way. The light was there. Through the window, there was a strong yet dim light shining. He found her. The light was shining upon a bedroom. The opulent decorations, the small yet seemingly comfy bed. He had found her. However, she was asleep.

Edging forward, he tapped her sleeping body. At first, he thought he shouldn’t wake her up, it wasn’t worth it. And yet it was. He shook these thoughts away. As she finally woke up and turned on the small nightlight next to it, his features were finally illuminated. A small boy wearing pyjamas with little stars on them finally appeared in the light. His face was shaking and his hands were clammy. “Mu…Mummy.”  He stuttered as she finally sat up.

“Honey, are you ok?  Did you have another nightmare again?”

He looked at his ‘Mummy’ and knew something. He had done it. He had overcome that fear in him. That fear of the dark inside of him.

“No mummy, the nightmare’s gone.”

Rachel Lie (1P)

Short Story: Sunlight


She looked at her hands. Soft, pale white skin wrapped around her bones. Her feet were dirtied by the mixture of sand and dirt on the ground, but she was as comfortable as she could be. Wandering through the tall grass, her eyes were searching for something bright. Something that could shine. She planted her bum on a bed of flowers and lay down. Fingers twirling in the air, wind blowing her auburn hair, sunlight touching every inch of her body it could find. Her green eyes blinked at the fluffy cotton balls up in the atmosphere while her heart was beating fast. She had never felt this way before. At least, not in a long time. Her eyelids fluttered shut and the sweet fragrance of lavender wafted into her nostrils, filling her heart with joy and her stomach with butterflies.

Then her eyelids opened. She was disorientated by the bright light that shone. It may have been put there to bring warmth to her surroundings, but all she felt was cold and chilly. This wasn’t the sunlight that made her skin tingle or a warm smile to appear on her face. It was devoid; nothingness.

“Madam, the doctor is here. It’s time for your check-up,” A lady at the door wearing immaculate attire commented. It may have been intended to give her comfort; instead it filled her with quiet anxiety. “Hello madam, nice to see you again,” the doctor said with a grin.

“I see that you have been well fed. After the last few years, I haven’t quite seen such a big improvement in your… mental well-being. Just continue to stay here and rest up, it’ll be alright,” he read off the points on his chart and proceeded to walk out the little ‘prison cell’ with the lady following behind him.

The fact that her room was cleaned spotless and the walls were creamy white irked her the most. She would rather play in mud and enjoy the beautiful colours of nature, smell the grass and dance in the breeze. Her favourite thing would be the sweet melodies the birds chirped and how they swooped in the big, blue sky — Free. She longed to go back to the time when she could feast her eyes and ears on such things. But she can’t now; nor ever.

She lay back on the bed. The mirrors on the ceiling reminded her of reality: the eye bags under her dull green eyes, the thin and sickly layer of skin covering her fragile bones and the light shining down on her lifeless body. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she once again yearned to experience it and have it shining down on her, a warmth she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Jaime Ng 2 Loyalty


A Cruel Twist of Fate


It smelt like stale air-conditioning and underground metals, just like how trains always do. Today, I smelt like antiseptic and bad news.


The ring tone of my phone screamed in my ears. The screen showed: Ah Boy. Clenched eyes resigned, I picked up the phone.


“Hey mother… I…have something… to tell you…! I…was given a scholarship…to CAMBRIDGE!!! My dreams…had finally came through. I am…ecstatic!” my son exclaimed in jubilation, tears choking him.


A small smile played on my lips. I knew how much Ah Boy wanted to go to Cambridge. As a mother, I was really proud of him. I thought of the radiant smile on his face. As I was deep in my thoughts, a thought jerked me back to reality. How long could I share this happiness with my son if my life was as barren as dirty yards?


Looking at the medical report clenched tightly in my fist, all the smoldering emotions swelled in me burst – my third stage of cancer, the costly medicals fees and the hopeless life ahead. All these feelings combined in one great impulse towards destruction. The purpose of my life had faded. What was I going to do? What about the hefty medical fees? When was I going to die? What will happen to Ah Boy? And the question that was inevitable: Should I tell my husband and Ah Boy?


I recalled the times when my husband and I used to date. All these memories. All the time spent. All the efforts. I also recalled the very first time I embraced Ah Boy in my arms. I had held onto his hands, seeing those minuscule hands grow into brawny ones. These were symbols of love. However, love had no chance with death.


If I were to tell my husband about this, I knew he would be despondent. He would definitely, and obviously tell Ah Boy. And that Ah Boy would give up his scholarship and take care of me. What must I do?


Frazzled, I let the tears in my eyes roll down my cheeks, unto the medical report.

Lynn Tan (1F)

Division by Discrimination


The other students always shunned away from her as if she had the plague whenever she walked down any one of the school’s hallways. Hushed whispers broke out behind her as she rounded the corner of corridors, and the students all stayed far away from her table, which was empty except for her and her lunch tray, during lunchtime. Every time we got to choose our partners for projects, she would always opt to do it alone, as if she knew that she was resigned to the same fate.

Having only been transferred to this new school recently, I couldn’t comprehend why the other students avoided her, as if she had the cooties or something. I had often asked myself why. Was it because of the old worn out clothes that she wore to school every day? Maybe how her skin was shades darker than any of ours?

The other students were welcoming enough to me when I first enrolled in high school – they showed me around, told me which were the best seats on the spectators stand for watching football matches, which teachers would believe you if you said your dog ate your homework, etc. However, they treated her like she was a complete alien in the short span that I had been here, even though she had been in this school for much longer than I had.

One day, I asked my tablemates why they didn’t like close contact with her. From them, I understood that they felt that they were worlds apart from her, especially with regards to her looks and her fashion sense. However, I still couldn’t see the reasoning in their perspective. It wasn’t like she had done something wrong; her only crime was being different than the rest of us, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The next day, when I told my friends that I was going to sit with her instead of them for lunch, they gaped and gawked at me like I had lost my mind. “Imagine if you were in her position. It must be really lonely for her to be without any company. Besides, if you had people gossiping about you everywhere you go? Is it right to discriminate against someone so openly?” I chided them as they fell silent.

Picking up my lunch tray, I walked towards the nearby table whereby she sat. Feeling dozens of eyes on my, I drew the chair next to hers and said, “Hi, may I sit here…”

Germaine Lee (4T)

Short Story: The Deal


“Your offer?”  Lisa leaned back, propping her feet on her desk. “My services don’t come cheap.”


Arielle confidently set a small organza pouch of gold coins onto the table.


“Sorry, Ari. Anything else?”

Her fingers hovered over her wallet hesitantly, before pulling out a mermaid sticker from ‘The Little Mermaid’, and a ‘KitKat’ bar.

“That’s all I can offer. Please, it’ll be my birthday, it’s really important.”


“Thank you, Ari,” Lisa smiled, sweeping the payment off the table into her bag. “You won’t be disappointed. It’ll be taken care of before then. ”


Just as the recess bell rang, Ms Koh walked back in and berated, “Lisa, please take your feet off the table. It’s unsightly. ”

She muttered a half-hearted apology, and set to work with her dictionary, smirking with glee as she found what she needed.


Coarse slang. Do not use this word.


Children poured in through the door, filling the room.  As soon as she set her sights on Rina, she went in for the kill, pulling her aside.

“Hey, Rina? Wanna sit with us tomorrow? ”


She was visually taken aback, Lisa could see. As what almost everyone dubbed her, a ‘dweeb’, she was always alone. And suddenly, one of the coolest and smartest people in the class was asking her to sit with her group?

Not an offer someone like her could resist.


Oh, if only she knew.


The next day, Rina was warmly welcomed by Lisa to her table. “Hey,” she greeted. “Get your lunchbox and join us. ”

As the group conversed over their food, Lisa noted that Rina was quiet, and decided to take the opportunity to bring her plan a step further.


“Sod? Like soda?”

“No. Just sod. ”

“What does that mean, Lisa?”

“Well, it means cool. “

At Rina’s incredulous expression, Lisa elaborated.

“Yeah, all the grown up kids at my brother’s school use it. Like, Rina, you’re a real sod. Get it? It’s like a word for cool. ”


Just before the end of recess, Lisa skittered off quickly, saying that she had to take care of something, leaving Rina alone with her thoughts.


‘I’m a sod? ’


Later, just as recess ended and Ms Koh walked in, Lisa was stopped by Rina.

“Thanks, Lisa. You’re a real sod, you know? ”


There it was.


Lisa edged towards Ms Koh. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that last part, what were you saying? ”


“I said, you’re a real sod!”


Lisa made a show of acting confused as Ms Koh closed in on them.


Arms akimbo, Ms Koh asked, “Rina, what did you just say to Lisa?”

Heidi felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “I was just… I was only… ”


“Heidi. I think…”


Ms Koh paused with a sigh.


“You need to come with me for a while.”


From her seat, Lisa almost smiled with satisfaction. Another job well done by a professional with standards.


Something flew over her shoulder and landed in front of her.


A crushed ball of paper. She smoothed it out.


To: Lisa

Thanks. I really didn’t want her at my birthday party.

– Arielle

April Ang (3J)

Past Skeletons

i have bent my back so far back that it has cracked.

we spend all our money on wishing wells flicking

coins in the water filling the well where water lacks.

i spin words with the thread on this sewing machine

for all the values my combined words are worth.

these words leave me in the flicker of times

where your opinionated self has forced me to

the wall of self-hatred and doubt, where the

key to unlock my skeletons is in your hands


you always open it.




Germaine Ong



Blade of light

Blade of light – Background wall with door

It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

She was supposed to celebrate graduation in a few months. She was supposed to go to her dream college. She was supposed to get a successful career and make our parents proud. She was supposed to fulfil her dream of finally saving enough money to go to the place she had always yearned to go, France, and adopt the pet she always wanted.

My sister was supposed to have a beautiful, perfect life. A life that was all planned out for her, the moment she opened her eyes for the first time.

Not to be found on Tuesday, unmoving, silent, and dead.

When the police told us about her suicide, my parents immediately broke into a sobbing, weeping mess. But I couldn’t. I felt numb. My mind was blank. I couldn’t even remember where I was. All I could think of was how I came home crying on the first day of school because I didn’t know how to make friends and she comforted me for hours, telling me that it was okay. That I’ll definitely make  friends soon. That she’ll be always there for me, forever.

She lied, didn’t she?

Her suicide was all anyone could talk about then, but it changed drastically when I showed up dry-eyed and emotionless to her funeral, beside my parents, who were too wrapped up in their sorrow of losing their star child. The look of sympathy turned to doubt, tinged with disgust.

Did they think that I was happy over her death, because all my life, she had shone so brightly that a shadow was casted on me? That I didn’t even want to waste a tear on her?

I wanted to tell them that they were wrong. That, despite outshining me in everything and winning all our parents’ affection, she was still my best friend, my partner in crime, and the best sister anyone could ask for.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t.

Each day I struggled to stay afloat among the sea of gossips and snide remarks thrown my way, all hoping that I’d drown. Each day, I put on a mask of indifference the moment I stepped out of the door. But each day, I leaned against my sister’s room door, defeated and drained. It hasn’teen opened since her death. Itelt sacred, somehow. Like I wasn’t allowed to touch them anymore.

But on one particularly bad day, I couldn’t take it anymore. The door creaked open reluctantly, letting me into her little world, where her blue walls stared back at me, her overflowing bookshelf spilled onto the floor, her bad unmade, table messy, and bobby pins lay on the floor, forgotten. I froze. Everything about it screamed her, screamed normal, screamed comforting.

Like she went for a walk and was about to come back with her favourite food.

And sitting cross-legged on the carpet, hugging the blue cushion that I had once loved so much, I finally let the tears fall.


Chen Yu Yang