Writing Contest Results: And the Winner Is…


Carly Earnest

Charger Ink’s photography team captures Sabrina Kelly, winner of the writing contest. Kelly expresses her excitement about winning.

ChargerInk.’s writing contest ended October 28th. The winning submission was written by junior Sabrina Kelly, and is published below. The ChargerInk. staff would like to thank Sabrina Kelly as well as everyone else who submitted their writing to the contest for their hard work and creativity!

Read Sabrina’s work below:


The sun beats down on my shoulders as I walk along the cracked sidewalk. Old houses crowd the sides of the street, windows flashing in the harsh daylight. All is quiet; their residents are either off working or sheltering from the heat.
I head toward the last house on the road and stride across the driveway. It’s in even worse shape than its counterparts: ivy creeps up the dirty brick walls, and the lawn is tangled and overgrown. The door is warped and never seems to shut properly. I would know. I’ve struggled with it and all the other broken things in there more times than I can count.
I stop at the edge of the worn welcome mat and wait. My right hand jerks forward, then stops. I wait there, frozen, my fingers brushing the empty air. Ever so slowly, I inch closer and rest my palm against the dry wood. I remember walking up to this door so many times, eager to crash after a long day at school. Years have passed since then.
Breaths. Deep breaths. I bite my lip, hard, and knock. Once, twice, three times. The hollow thumps vibrate through my very bones.
I wait, twisted my hands together, as a few muffled footsteps come from within the house. Finally, the door swings open to reveal a tired old woman with gray hair and dark brown eyes. Her gaze travels from my face to my boots, and her mouth drops open.
Words rise up in my throat and tangle together, choking me. “Hi, Mom.”
My mother shakily presses a hand to her heart. To my astonishment, a smile touches her lips “John.”
“Mom.” I hastily reach up and wipe a tear from my eye. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. “Mom, I’m sorry.”