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TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Weeping Willow ......................................................................................................................................................... 2
"The Flight"......................................................................................................................................................................... 2
The Darkest Hour ............................................................................................................................................................ 3
LOVE CHAIN ................................................................................................................................................................. 6
Proud to be Lebanese ............................................................................................................................................. 6
Shades of a Woman ........................................................................................................................................... 7
Day Dream Chair ............................................................................................................................................. 8
Colored ........................................................................................................................................................ 9
Against All Odds ................................................................................................................................. 10
Wizters ............................................................................................................................................................................. 12
The Liberator .................................................................................................................................................................... 14
The Day My Life Went Missing ...................................................................................................................................... 15
My Best Friend ............................................................................................................................................ 16
SCIENCE VS. MATH ................................................................................................................................................ 17
I’m Just Lucky ............................................................................................................................................. 18
Holden 10 Years Later ................................................................................................................................ 19
The Lion and His Sly Friends ................................................................................................................ 21
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The Weeping Willow
I am as a willow tree.
Swaying my leaves in the breeze.
I long for the company of others.
Standing shyly in the darkness, I weep silently in my tomb of solitude.
My trunk is sturdy and strong, but my roots remain brittle and weak.
My image is that of beauty and sadness, for though you might contemplate my essence, Know that I yearn to leave my stone prison.
How I long to saunter around the nearby meadows.
How I desire to be with my brothers of nature, laughing with the breeze and murmuring with the other trees.
I'd rather soar with the birds than be trapped in my prison of serenity.
I am doomed to live a life of silence.
I am truly a boisterous soul, yet I must be alone.
I lurk in the shadows watching the others.
I remain mysterious and hidden.
I have been sentenced to eternal isolation.
Oh, how I despite being a willow tree.
By Sara Ghandour and Salah Itani
"The Flight"
A person is a butterfly,
Wondering, fluttering in the vast sky.
Its life starts off dark,
Conserved within the warmth of its cocoon.
It is safe, protected,
But life shouts out one day,
And light shines brightly on it.
Now it's a boastful butterfly,
Flaunting its beauty to the world.
The breeze gently caresses its wings
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Like the soft hand of a mother on her child's cheek.
Then, it flies.
It's patterns are unique, unlike any around it.
It's showered in red and yellow,
Glowing in the sunlight.
Nature summons it,
Whispering its name over and over again,
But, oops, it's a trap.
Snap! Goes the snake's mouth,
Imprisoning this beautiful soul for the end of time.
It burns, it hurts.
It feels the venom flowing through it like endless rivers.
There goes the tranquility,
There goes the light.
Such a marvelous soul
Has turned into dust overnight.
The world is empty now,
Drowning in dullness.
This butterfly exists no more,
And we've lost an angel.
By: Huda Kandil & Ghida Anouti
4th
A
The Darkest Hour I am the black swan,
a naked leafless tree,
in the hour before dawn,
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floating above reality.
I was an alien at birth,
a fragrance less daisy.
Along the margins of the Earth
floating hastily.
I know not where I must go.
As I hang from a short thread.
Shifting through the inevitable flow,
my conscience will not go to bed.
The dark forest I now roam.
Escaping my own self-destruction.
Searching for my home,
as I place my life on auction.
The hour has passed,
as I see a shimmering light.
Hope has now filled
the void inside.
I can now see clearly
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What I've been blind to see.
My life flashed abruptly
right in front of me.
I gasped the thread
and pulled myself to the peak.
My heart is finally fed
with the hope it must seek.
I am an odorless flower.
I am the black swan
waiting for the hour
and the hope after dawn.
Because it is true.
The darkest hour is the one before dawn.
By: Dareen Aboulmouna and Ali Saadedine
6
LOVE CHAIN
There is no poem without phrases
There is no phrases without words
There is no words without passion
There is no passion without love
There is no love without
By Reem Assi
6eme B
Proud to be Lebanese
Whether his name is God, Allah or Lord
Should not make you pull out your sword
If He is watching you from up above
He would want your hearts to be filled with love
Religion is only between God and us
Its diversity in Lebanon should be a plus
If you can hear church bells and mosque prayer call
Then you are in a country that should never fall
Lebanese from different sects have grudges and hate
But they all have qualities that are very great
Some of which are hospitality, honor, and many more
Like kinship and family which is more precious than ore
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Lebanese migrate in huge numbers every year
But it is their dream to live and be buried over here
Different sects in Lebanon need the proper education
That shows them how we make one beautiful nation
If elders look through their children’s innocent eyes
They will wonder how their vision of Lebanon is so wise
All children need is a peaceful country with no war
Where nobody values you for your religion any more
By Mohamad Khalil
1st “C
Shades of a Woman
She walks around with power in her hand
Noisy crowds stand on the long routes
Those that make her journey a complex map
Not caring where she has to stand
Buzzing of opinions everywhere
Not a slight of expression of her face
She walks around with power in her hand
Stiff as a wall
Rigid, cold, and not even the hardest storm can make her fall
Delicate as a flower
Fragile, admired, and lives to be taken care of
Thrones put aside with no intention for evil
Oh how she walks around with power in her hand
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Confidence is what fills her soul
Demanding all the respect she deserves
Standards so high they need rehab
Yet one thing can make her slip into the hole
The feeling of love strokes her feminine personality
Soft roses, red hearts, and sweet kisses…
Everyday becomes Valentine’s Day
Oh the things that steal her from reality
Just then, she cannot manage to steer the wheel
The journey conquers her directions
Hearts speak and minds listen
Thoughts don’t count as feelings sway
The sanity this sense can steal
God made women the closest thing to real
Filled with strength and passion
Oh how she walks around with power in her hand
By Reem Ghaziri and Layan Murad
Day Dream Chair
A dream is an ancient rocking chair
Swaying to and fro
Rocking as it makes its way
To soothe the tired soul
The chair relieves the weakened legs
That can no longer stand
It’s like my secret remedy
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I reach a faraway land
The hugging chair feels safe and warm
When it is hope I lack
It always pushes me to the front
Whenever I rock back
Its creaking legs start to sing
It’s my peaceful song
Rocking roughly may be dangerous
If one rocks it too strong
One will tumble to the ground
The rocking chair won’t sway
Unless the seated person
Rocks it everyday
The ancient wooden rocking chair
The one that sets me free
The one that if I cease to push
Will then cease to push me
By Rasha Akel and lama Barhoumi
Colored I am colored
I am colored but a spat of dirt that causes annoyance
I am but a disease you try to cure
I am but a stray dog you look over with the corner of your eyes
Can you understand me?
Can you hear my heartbeat with the rhythm of your own?
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Can you look into my eyes without superiority?
Can you? Would you?
I am colored.
Am the mistake He has inflicted on the world?
Am I the invisible ghost that frightens you in the dark?
Am I the haunted nightmare of mankind?
I am.
Remember me come Judgment Day.
Remember me when your sins unfold.
Remember me during the final breathes you take.
Remember.
I am colored.
By Mariana Dabbagh and Nicholas Salloum
Against All Odds She is like a rose
Her beauty attracting all admiring eyes
Blooming like a diamond in the rye
Her petals exploding with a shimmering violet color
And purple hues
My! Oh my! How tears roll down other flowers eyes
But she remains out of reach
For blood flows at a touch
Beneath her beauty thorns stand fast
Protecting her from demise
He is like a snake
Sneaky and sly
Yet strong and brave
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Going after everything he may crave
His poison is potent
Defending him, keeping him buoyant
Hated and judged against everyone he holds a grudge
Together they exist in harmony
For he is immune to her defense
As she is to he
Protecting her from harm's way
Preserving her innocence with a sneer
Maintaining her status as the diamond in the rye.
By Dahlia Yamout and Monah Khatib
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Wizters
Emily sat at her very small desk, admiring the cleanliness of her room. She had just recently cleaned it and it
was looking better than ever. Emily Armstrong was a sweet little 9 year old, who had long beautiful blonde hair,
which was now held up in a simple ponytail. She had bright blue eyes and a thin mouth. She lived with her dad in a
small house by the sea, even though she had no windows to catch the incredible views. Her mom, and basically, all her
family had died at her birth. She only had her dad. Her dad was a tall man, with green eyes. He had shaggy brown
hair and he usually wore his white vest and jeans. Funny, how they looked nothing alike, she probably took from her
mother. She would never know since there were no pictures remaining of her. Just then she heard her dad downstairs
shouting at someone. Who was it? Emily had no idea; she had been told that she was supposed to stay in her small,
half empty room until the next morning. Suddenly, Emily heard a crash down in the living room. They were having a
fight. Emily couldn’t believe that her mean but peaceful dad was actually having a fight. By mean Emily meant that he
had given her a tiny bedroom and she was mostly on her own in her room and she was not allowed to get out… She
had to know what was going on. So just for once, she would have to sneak out of her room disobeying her father’s
orders .
She quietly opened the door, good thing she took care of all the rust that was creaking her door every time
she opened it.
She walked down the stairs as quietly as she could. Emily’s hand shot straight over her mouth just to stop
herself from screaming. In the living room, there was the most incredible creature she had ever seen. It had the head
of a monster and it was wearing a wizard cape designed with stars and one big moon in the center. He was holding a
stick designed with jewels. Wait that was a wand; this was too much for poor Emily. But her curiosity took over. She
crept behind the kitchen pillar and peered at the face of the large animal. Then, something happened that she hadn’t
expected to. The monster sniffed and said “Emily Armstrong” .Her dad said “Emily, come out, we know that you are
here” Emily came out shivering. The monster swept its hand over Emily’s head and she felt herself falling into a deep
sleep and then everything went black.
Emily woke up in a box covered by a glass top that was very uncomfortable. She was connected to wires that were
plugged into a huge computer, so that she saw her name and an X-ray of her body with a blue gas labeled carbon
dioxide showing as if it were entering her body. She pushed the glass door open and everything around began
beeping. Panicking, Emily rushed for the exit. Too late… a group of the monsters she had seen in her kitchen grabbed
onto her collar as she began to cry helplessly. Where was her dad? Her dad was among the monsters smiling an evil
smile. He laughed… “Finally we have caught you, Emily Armstrong” Then he laughed again. Emily was shocked, her
dad, the man that had raised her entire life, was, for the first time, against her. The group of monsters raised their
wand, as dad shouted FIRE!!! Emily felt a surge of confidence and protection, she felt herself going hot and then her
body began to glow. The monsters stumbled. “Nooooo!” Her dad shouted “Not when everything was under control”.
The monsters fell to their feet and then disappeared.
“Dad!!!” Emily cried “How could you do this to me?”
“I want power, for my entire life, the only thing that I have wanted was power” He shouted angrily “You’re the only
one, now, that can give it to me”
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“Now that I know I have power, I think I can defeat you, and I think I know how to use my power too” She smiled
confidently, “no one is going to get to me.”
“Is that so? Well, just wait and see. Oh, and one more thing before I leave” Her dad said
“What?” Emily asked
He smiled a disgusting toothy smile “I’m not your actual dad, Emily Armstrong”
With that, he was out of the door quicker than a cheetah.
Emily was exhausted. ‘What a day!’ She thought after all the events of the day she could barely stand, and with that,
she fainted. She woke up in a plain white room.
“Where am I?” Emily asked
“Hush, little one, you are in the Armstrong headquarters.” A beautiful woman appeared. She had her long, straight
black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a tight red dress with no sleeves. Her high heels were so
high, it made her look like a giant. She looked as if she was in her twenties.
“We are here to protect you. So you are Emily Armstrong born on February 11 2003, Your star sign is Aquarius and you
are an Armstrong golden fairy, you-”
“What in the world are you talking about?!!” Emily interrupted
“You surely know what an Armstrong fairy is,” the lady looked astonished
“By the way, you haven’t exactly introduced yourself miss”
“Oh, sorry I’m Isabella, but you can call me Bella”
“lovely name "Emily said
“Thanks,” She mumbled
“So if I have a power, what’s yours?” Emily asked astonished.
“Well, I kind of read mind actually, forget it, you wouldn’t understand,”
“Try me,” Emily said slyly. This woman definitely had an attitude problem.
“First of all, no I do not have an attitude problem. Second of all, I scan only fairies mind with an SFS. I can know if
people are lying, who they are, what they are thinking”
“What is an SFS?” Emily asked.
“Silver Fairy Scanner,” She answered “ As you may have noticed by my powers that I am a silver fairy.”
“I understand,” Emily said.
“You are smart little one,” Bella said
Emily felt a sudden glow. One of Isabella’s hands was pointing right at Emily’s heart. Emily had the urge to
move but something was holding her there. When she turned to the mirror, she was wearing a short gold dress, and it
was curved at the end with a high neck. She had beautiful, gold wings at the back of her dress with shining gems to
outline the plain color. Her hair was glowing and held back beautifully by a big golden flower. Her face was
surprisingly bright. She was wearing gold high heel shoes. No wonder she was a gold fairy. Many gathered around to
see her new, beautiful form. Emily felt pleased. Just then, there was a big beeping sound. Red lights flashed. THE
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WIZTERS!!!!! They all came running through the door. They had their wands pointing right at Emily. When they saw
Emily’s new form they looked dazed for a while but they gained a little confidence after they thought about the power
they would earn. Still they were shivering. The Wizters could not take the slightest bit of light. They were only on full
power when there was darkness. As Bella whispered this to Emily, Bella handed her a torch. As Emily was fighting, she
had a surge of confidence, but this was to try out her powers. She absent-mindedly threw away her torch and began
to think, how she was going to get her power, apparently, none of what she attempted to do worked. In just a second
everything went wrong. Suddenly she found herself in the midst of a dark, black, hole.
Emily woke up in her house,
“No,” she whispered to herself, “this was not supposed to happen” she began to panic. Too bad she was in her room.
No windows at all. She crept out of her room to find the house empty, when she opened the door, an alarm went off.
She ran and ran until she couldn’t run anymore. She felt a feeling of victory, but all of that melted when she realized
that she was being followed with a GPS. She flung her hand as far as she can, but it was too late. About fifty Wizters
jumped out at her from every bush around her. They covered her half-open mouth and carried her into a truck. One
little injection and she felt herself drifting away.
She found herself in a empty room, and this time, she was surrounded by Secuzers, (Wizters + security), at least that is
what it said on their coats. She had to get away.
‘AHA’ that was it!!! She could use her powers. Bella had told her that it worked best when she believed she could
succeed. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard, knowing that she could do it. A surge of confidence and power
rushed quickly through her, the power died, she sighed with frustration, and she tried again and again until finally,
she found the Wizters, dead, on the cold, marble floor. She made a run for it! She rushed her way through a big glass
exit and found herself facing 32 large Wizters with weapons. She was done for. She stood there shaking, too scared to
find confidence. At that exact moment, all Wizters dropped dead as she found Bella standing tall and proud. Emily
was full of relief and gratefulness, and Isabella took care of Emily at the Armstrong headquarters, until she grew to be
a powerful, strong, golden fairy.
By Tara Assad/ 1st “C”
The Liberator
“A storm may emerge from far away, and a terrible evil may lay waste to our lands and slaughter the
peasants with no mercy. But fortunately, a hero would come to destroy this evil, and set the citizens free. I,
Cornelius Black, am that hero” Cornelius spoke with such honor. “And yet here I lay in this filth, in this foul,
repugnant and revolting room”.
“They keep me in this cell like some sort of animal, locked up because of my actions, because of my
heroism” Cornelius spat. His short red hair struck out from his pale skin. He wore some fine clothes that suited
him well. He would have looked completely normal if it weren’t for the stains of blood on his garments.
“Was I too late? Have the good people already been blinded by the king’s words?” Cornelius asked.
“What’s your name sir? Why are you here?” He turned to face a tall black man sitting silently in the corner of
the cell. The man was very slim and had ragged and battered clothes. He kept his eyes hidden under his long
black hair for some reason. “M-My name is Demetrius” he stammered, shivering in the dark.
“And why are you here Demetrius?” Cornelius asked with curiosity.
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Demetrius didn’t speak at first. “I… I stole some food from the local market” he said in a dim and
shameful voice. “But I had to!” he raised his tone all of a sudden. “My family is starving” he said, looking up
for the first time to face Cornelius. The serrated wide scar on his eye was showing. Cornelius didn’t flinch at the
sight of the wound; he only looked at him straight in the eye and smiled.
“Do not be ashamed my friend,” Cornelius spoke with a reassuring voice. “You are hungry, aren’t you?
No, you are starving!” he said apathetically. “You are starving, and there are many others who are like you,
Demetrius” the man explained. “There are the people like you, and then there’s… ‘The leader’, ‘the king’, ‘the
ruler’, call him what you want, but he is no savior, and he is no hero, and I had had enough of him, his throne,
and his castle. You are an example of how he treats the citizens” Cornelius seethed through gritting teeth. He
then forced himself to calm down. “And so, I had to take action… And I enjoyed every second of watching him
suffer as I pierced by blade into his heart. I do not regret it, and I never will. And as I walked out of the palace,
triumphal and satisfied, the people saw my actions as a way of terrorism, of Madness! Shows how ignorant they
can be”
“You are mad!” Demetrius interrupted him. His eyes were wild and filled with terror. “You call yourself
a hero?” He asked despicably.
“I am a hero!” Cornelius yelled in anger and aggravation. “And maybe, just maybe, a person needs a
little madness to keep him motivated, to keep him on the right track” he said, walking assertively to Demetrius.
Once again, he calmed himself down, returned to his hay bed, and sat down.
“Tomorrow is a good day” He said with a cold smile. “Before I am beheaded in the execution, I shall let
everyone know of how I did them a favor, and I shall tell them to look upon Cornelius Black, redeemer of the
city, and to watch him die before their eyes” Cornelius said with satisfaction. He lay down on the bed and
started to close his eyes. “Tomorrow will be a good day” he whispered before he slept.
By Karim Arrabi / 4th
B
The Day My Life Went Missing
Chapter-1
I knew something was wrong when my mom forgot to give us her daily speech about why
taking our vitamins is very important. She’s usually very meticulous about that. My brother
and I were taking our breakfasts and the sweet calming smile of my mom was missing, she was
very passive that day. Nothing special was going on, I mean she’s not a very talkative person,
and she was more of a happy-go-lucky type of people who are not quite sure of the reason of
their happiness.
That day, mom looked very confused, as if a tornado was going on in her mind, but she was
calm, sipping her usual Turkish coffee looking in the distance. She wasn’t looking at me, nor at
my brother, no, she was looking beyond us, she was looking far into the dark depths of the
future that was yet to come.
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Of course, my very curious self was not going to be retained by any earthly means. I had
hundreds of questions in my mind, mom may have said nothing at all, but her eyes are an
abundant fountain of uncertainty, and a mixture of hope and despair. I rushed into the kitchen
and gave my mom a kiss on the cheek. She gave me a big hug and kissed my forehead. She
gave me the kind of long, strong hug and said silently with not a single expression on her face:
“son, we’re leaving…” I looked at her surprisingly: “we’re moving?”-No we’re leaving the
country, we’re not safe anymore, they’re eventually getting here, and they won’t leave a
single village without infecting it with this disgusting disease!-What disease?-The disease of
war…
To see the rest of this thrilling adventure wait for the book and buy a copy! Thank you for
reading
By Maher Abdel Samad
My Best Friend
One plus one obviously equals two, but somehow it’s different between me
and you. When we are together it’s like we share one single mind. Trust me it’s the
best you will ever find!
You know my dreams and all my thoughts, it’s like you have been thought to
be my best friend from so long.
We are not twins, not even sisters by blood, but I’m not complete unless
you’re around. It’s like I’m lost without your presence by my side.
You make my world such a better place, when I see that smile on your face. I
could never imagine a day without you. It’s like a big nightmare that I can’t even
imagine! I, without you, just am not the same.
When you are sick and you are not with me, I feel lost in this big city. You
make me feel strong; you fill me with pleasure that’s why you are my most precious
treasure.
It takes two halves to make a complete whole, but you and me, just make one
soul.
By Tala Kadi / 6eme B
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SCIENCE VS. MATH
Man your stations fire!!!BOOM! One day in the deserts of Egypt Exponent and Factor were ordered by
Prime (Commander) to spy on when Science will attack. Math and Science were fighting for the power of
Social Studies and the outer rim of the galaxy. So Factor and Exponent were on the quest.
4 hours later Exponent and Factor saw a gloomy shadow in the distance that looked like a shiny area;
Factor rubbed his eyes and saw that it was the Solar Octagon the science base. And then he remembered
when he saw an Explosive-Nuclear-Power-Bomb in his pocket that he had to destroy the Octagon. So he gave
it to Exponent and he made it smaller all the way until it was the size of a piece of popcorn. Then he threw the
bomb with a tremendous throw and it broke through the window and they jumped on a helicopter that just
came overhead.3-2-1 KA-BOOM. Nucleus (General of Science) and some other troops managed to escape but
most of the troops were caught in the explosion, while Nucleolus (King of Science) just hovered out on his
magical floater just like he expected it coming. “Guys were going to war”, Nucleus said, As he watched the last
of the helicopter fade in the distance.
2 weeks later Nucleus and Prime made armies and they met together at the center of the desert. “May
the better side win,” Nucleus and Prime both said, as they shook hands. They went back to their sides and the
war started with a big Bang of a cymbal. And they rushed at each other like ants on an ant farm. First, Nucleus
was using the cytoplasm turning people into a gel like material. Then prime used the product chamber
cannon. This made a bullet as powerful as a bomb and then releasing it. The two armies were called Vascular
(Science) and Composite (Math). They were the most powerful armies in the subject galaxy. While they were
having their battle Chloroplast, Mitochondrion, and Vacuole were going around feeding and hydrating the
cells and organisms making them ready for battle. There was a vertebrate named Master Bull and he risked his
life to kill the Math but at the end he sadly failed and got stabbed by Prime. Science needed to release their
secret weapon Carbon Monoxide or the Silent Killer. So they wouldn’t die they put the Cell Membrane shield
up which protected them till the Carbon Monoxide went away. Science had an advantage because the Silent
Killer killed a lot of Math troops. Now it was time to release Math’s secret weapon Prime Factoring when they
used it Science troops got smaller and smaller until they disappeared. After 4 more days of fighting the only
people left were Prime and Nucleus and of course Vacuole, Chloroplast, and Mitochondrion but they weren’t
in the battle. So Prime and Nucleus had a sword duel until Nucleus was holding Prime by his neck on the
ground and when he was about to stab him, Capitol (General of Social Studies) got a bow and star and shot a
red shiny star at both of them and they both fell to the ground dead. Capital said, “I think we’d rather work
alone.” Then he left. So at the end neither Math nor Science got the power of Social Studies.
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By Rida Mroue
I’m Just Lucky
My mom embraced me with one last hug before she said: “Good luck.” I smiled and thanked her as I
walked to the school bus hopping in. I sat in my usual seat and the bus began its way to school. Once there, I
hopped off the bus swinging my backpack around my arms. I walked to the big building decorated with flowers
and trees. I walked through the halls where the sound of the teachers clacking they’re heels can be heard. I
walked to class and placed my backpack to my chair and sat down quietly and began revising for the English
test I haven’t studied for. I thought how hard it would be. I even could imagine the grade I would get. The bell
rang as all of the students ran to class. Most of the girls were giggling and laughing as I sat there feeling left out.
The boys were fooling around in class saying jokes, whispering. It’s like nobody knew about this test! The
teacher came in slamming the door shut after her as she walked to her desk setting down her book bag. “Good
morning class. I hope you studied well for the English test we’re having today.” I chewed on my lower lip
getting worried. She distributed the papers to all of the class. I immediately wrote down my name as I read the
first exercise thanking god it was multiple choice. I answered the best I could. I heard someone whisper behind
me. “Pssssst. Hey, what’s the answer to number 3?” I rolled my eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Don’t try and ask
I won’t answer” The teacher said “No talking, Rasha.” “Sorry.” I mumbled and felt my feet go numb. My hands
were sweaty as I read the word ‘explain’ I wrote down all I knew expecting it to be wrong. Oh god, I’m sure to
get 40. I flipped to the next page and flashed a week smile because I knew this perfectly. I filled the blank and
flipped to the last page as my palms started to get sweaty. I sunk my teeth deeper into my skin and finished the
exam revising my best answers. I didn’t feel like I’d get that much of a low grade. I mean, I did do my best. I
gave her my paper after making sure all was correct and began doodling on my notebook. I heard a slight giggle
in the back and the teacher said “Rasha! That’s enough!” I felt confused. “Excuse me?” “Stop talking while
your friends are in the middle of an exam!” Oh god. “Yeah, Rasha that’s impolite,” answered the boy who was
giggling. “Quiet.” I took a deep breath and went back to doodling. I heard someone whisper “Pffft. This is too
hard.” No it’s not, I thought in my head. I wrote my name and colored it in as I heard someone trying to hide his
laugh. I sighed annoyed from all the noise they were making. “Rasha, please quiet. Stop laughing this is your
last warning.” The teacher said. “W-what? But it wasn’t me!” I said still surprised. “This is it! You’re coming
with me to the principal’s office!” My eyes went instantly wide. I followed her outside as she began threatening
me. “What’s wrong with you today? First you begin asking for the answers, than you talk in the middle of a test
and now you’re all of the sudden; laughing?” I was on the verge of tears as she continued her threat which was
interrupted by the boy who was the reason of all this. “Excuse me miss, but you can’t punish her for what I
did.” I wiped off the tears and took a deep breath as she responded “What?” “It was me who interrupted the
class, laughed and tried to cheat. And I take all responsibility.” I bit my bottom lip and played with my fingers
still scared. “Sorry Rasha, you can come with me to the principal’s office” She said gesturing to the boy. I
inhaled and exhaled relaxed. I entered the class again and began writing. ‘Today was easy, but tomorrow will be harder. Be careful and study well
before a test and don’t answer to whoever talks to you in the middle of the
class.’
About a week later, she gave back the tests. I began panicking. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun and took a sip of
water from my bottle as I hopped up and down excited. She began giving back the sheets as she gave back mine which
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was flipped to the other blank side. I closed one eye and carefully turned it around and couldn’t believe my eyes. I just got
97 over a 1OO. This is unbelievable. I flashed a smile showing off my teeth. I looked over at my three mistakes before
shoving it in my backpack and I starred at my feet. This just, it can’t be true.
By Rasha Haddad / 6eme “A”
Holden 10 Years Later
Introduction: In this short story I speak from the point of view of Holden who in the 10 years following
the events of catcher in the rye does not improve his condition, he instead deteriorates greatly leaving him in a
deep state of depression after everything that he considered stable and constant in his life has been almost
systematically destroyed.
3650 Days of Disaster
I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details of how I just barely made it through high school. And I
specially don’t want to talk about how barely any university would accept me because of my grades; or how I
ended up dropping out after the my first year at the community college. In fact I don’t even want to talk about
myself at all. Why we start with me telling you how depressing life has been lately. Everyone around me knows
that there is one thing I hate in life more than anything, and that is phonies. It burns my eyes bursts my
eardrums and crushes my soul every time I see someone pretending to be something that they are not. I swear to
god they should all win Oscars for their performances. And you want to know what the worst part is? The part
that burns me deep down in my spirit, the part that makes me want to pour acid down my throat is that in the
real world, phonies almost always get what they want. It doesn’t matter if you are a Harvard graduate or high
school dropout; as long as you have a quick wit and a pretty face you can pretty much get anywhere in life. And
to me at least, that is depressing. Thinking about how many people have "made it" in life by being fakes and
phonies makes me sick to my stomach. Take Stradlater for instance, that phony bastard could barely write a
word of English. Look at him now, Mr. Stradlater Assistant Vice President of public relations at the Barclays
Bank. Things would be different for him had he not spent his time getting cozy with the daughter of the banks
president. At least he doesn’t have to wake up every morning at 6am and get ready for his minimum wage job.
Oh yeah, that’s another thing I forgot to mention my parents cut me off. Isn’t that just dandy, my own parents
the ones who raised me, the ones who "loved" me and "cared" about me disowned me. No more trust fund no
more money what so ever. You must think I'm some sort of selfish bastard now... it's funny how you can judge
me just by hearing me say that one sentence. I remember when I used to be a teenager I let myself get molded
by society, and what society expected me to be. Once I even almost hired a prostitute just so that I would be on
20
par with the standards of the world. And only now do I realize that I shouldn’t have been molded by society, I
should’ve burst out of the mold and escaped the prison of daily life, transforming into a flawlessly random
abstract form. That is quit quizzical isn’t it? "Flawlessly random" how is it that randomness can be equivalent to
perfection? It is not randomness itself, but the uniqueness that is implied when things are random. But then I
think; would it even be worth it? Let's say my life did turn out perfect and just the way I imagined it. So what?
Recently I find myself questioning everything I do. Every step I take in my life I am thinking: "what was the
point of that?" "Why am doing this?" This has become extreme to the point that I cannot even make an
everyday decision without deeply assessing the value of this decision in my life. You must be just about ready
to kill yourself after hearing me rant about all that philosophical nonsense. How about I waste your time instead
by telling you more reasons why I might be depressed in a shallower perspective. Over the past ten years
leading me to this sordid state of being, the four pillars of strength and stability that have been supporting my
life have decayed and crumbled one by one. Actually it's more like "broken down and destroyed". And it
actually started before 10 years ago with the death of my brother Allie. I don’t think I ever fully recovered from
his death. You're going to think I'm stupid but honestly I still talk to him sometimes. Increasingly during the
past few weeks I've been feeling really low. His death was the first step in an avalanching wave of misfortune
that "God" thought it would be amusing to bestow upon me. The next blow really hurt me. Mainly because it
was inflicted excruciatingly slowly, by the time I realized what was happening it was already too late… You
know what I'm talking about. Jane. O beautiful wonderful graceful amazing Jane, the epitome of innocence and
perfection, the holy grail of all desiring men out there. O how I was mistaken to cling to such foolish beliefs for
such a long time. It amazes me to think that out of the countless lies I've told and the countless amount of
people I have lied to, the person I was the least honest to was myself. Let's be frank now, I have always known
with at least some part of me that Jane was not the same girl anymore. We were young, at an age where
everyone can be perceived as pure. But that image of purity that I had of her was the one that stuck; I never did
get to see her changing and becoming a phony. Not that I never had the opportunity to see her, it was because I
didn’t want to let myself see her changing. I tried as best as I could to preserve that flawless image I had of her
in my mind. Finally realizing and accepting that Jane was not innocent anymore on its own contributed to my
depression. But the thoughts that came hand in hand with this realization are what really scared me. I began to
think:" What about Pheobie" at this time she had just graduated from high school with honors, go figure. And
she was going away for college; she had been accepted to Harvard University. That’s one of the most
prestigious colleges in the United States! But that’s half the world away. I can only imagine what she is doing
over there, what if she gets corrupted and becomes phony? This thought has given me many sleepless nights;
she was one of the only things I had left that were preserving some of my faith in mankind. My faith that not all
people are Stradlaters and Janes, with her gone doing who knows what all I had left my one shred of salvation
21
that I was confident that no one would could ever change was the museum. At least I had this one constant in
my life, something that I could go to whenever I needed comfort and solace (as long as I ignored all the F words
written all over the place) The museum was my savior I went there and sat in the mummies room for hours
every day. This activity would give me the feeling of peace. The museum was a constant in my life, it would
always be there, or so I thought. This one came as a real shocker to me. Apparently the economy is going
through a rough patch lately, and budget cuts need to be made. The government finds the managing and staffing
of a museum too costly in comparison to the benefits of it. They are shutting the museum down. This was the
last straw. My lake has frozen, and I'm sure that I do not know how to breathe through the ice, if only I knew
where the ducks go. I used to dream of saving children from falling off of cliffs in their lives, but in my attempts
I have fallen. May my dead body at the bottom of the abyss serve as a warning to all those on the edge of the
cliff, and may it scare them and stop them from repeating my mistake.
By Monah Khatib / 4th
A
The Lion and His Sly Friends
Once upon a time in a faraway jungle, lived a strong lion who was crowned as king. His
cunning and sly friends, the crow and hyena used to shower their king with lovely
complements about how strong and brave he is. The lion was pleased, so in return, he promised
to let his friends eat the left-overs of the animals he feeds on knowing that crows and hyenas
don’t have good hunting skills.
One day, when the lion went to hunt his prey in the pasture, he bumped into an elephant.
The elephant wanted to take his kingdom and become king of the jungle. The lion refused,
ignored him and walked away from him continuing his way to the pasture. When the lion did
that, the elephant got really angry and started a fight with him. The lion asked his friends for
some help, but the acted as if they didn’t hear anything. He sadly had to risk his life alone. After
many hours of fighting, the elephant won. The lion became very weak and could hardly move.
The poor lion thought that now it was time for the crow and hyena to help him. He begged them
to get him some food but, they agreed together that will not get him food and that they will
leave him and find another air-headed lion who they could fool like this one.
Days passed and the lion got weaker. But, when his brother saw him dying, he hurried to
him with some food. His brother stayed with him until he became better. During this time, the
22
lion told his sibling about what happened to him, so his brother told him: “Be careful when
choosing your friends, because some animals are not true friends and they may deceive you.
By Dima Itani / 1st C
Dancing Plants
The only way to make plants grow is to make it listen to classical music. Once upon a
time, Tom was reading a story called (Ways to Make Plants Grow) as this idea came to his
mind. While reading he was shocked by the way they explained how plants grow with classical
music. The second day at school he kept reading his book and did not focus in class! All he was
thinking about was getting a plant and seeing how it grows to classical music. The third day he
finally decided to buy a sunflower seed and give it water, sun, Air but most importantly
classical music. He searched his father’s bag to find a Beethoven classical music CD and he did!
So he ran to his room and began with his experiment. It’s been two weeks with the same
process but the plant did not grow at all. Not even a tiny green sprout! So he stopped the CD
player that had been on for two weeks straight and decided to play some rock music because
he got so tiered of classical music. One he turned on the music the plant suddenly gave a tiny
sprout! Tom was shocked! He never knew all his plant needed was rock music! So he kept his
rock music on for another two weeks and finally it grew into a beautiful sunflower! And from
that day on he used to play rock music to his plant and it would dance along to the music! He
called it the “Dancing Plant”
By Alia Bissat / 1st C
1
Table de Matières Une parole de trop ................................................................................................ 2
Dans un jardin public ........................................................................................ 4
Une parole de trop Dans un jardin public ..................................................... 5
Le poignard .......................................................................................................... 7
Une mésaventure marine ................................................................................... 8
Le grenier interdit ........................................................................................ 8
Imagination ......................................................................................................... 10
Adieu été ......................................................................................................... 18
Hommage à toi, mon Père ............................................................................ 20
2
Une parole de trop SCENE 1 :
M. Latour , Mme Latour
Dans un jardin public
Mme Latour, tenant la main de M. Latour. – Quelle belle journée pour nous promener ensemble !
M. Latour. – Je suis tout à fait d’accord.
Mme Latour, regardant le ciel. – Regardez le beau ciel bleu et les oiseaux qui voltigent gracieusement.
M. Latour. – Ma chère femme, vous êtes bien heureuse aujourd’hui, et je vais en profiter pour vous parler de la
belle surprise que j’ai préparée.
Mme Latour. – Une surprise ? Pour moi ? De quoi parlez-vous ?
M. Latour. – Oui, une très belle surprise en plus ! Je connais un ami qui allait voyager avec sa sœur en Italie,
mais sa sœur ne pouvait plus y aller, alors il m’a vendu les billets d’avion.
Mme Latour, d’un ton excité. – Oh ! Quelle belle surprise ! J’ai hâte de rencontrer votre bon ami.
M. Latour. – Quelle chance ! Le voici, assis sur le banc, là-bas, près de cette fontaine ! Allons lui dire bonjour.
SCENE 2 :
M. Latour , Mme Latour , M. Verdin
M. Latour, à M. Verdin. – Bonjour cher ami ! Comment allez-vous ?
M. Verdin. – Bonjour M. Latour ! Il s’avance pour l’embrasser.
M. Latour. – J’aimerais vous remercier encore un fois pour les billets d’avion que vous m’avez offerts.
M. Verdin. – Ce n’était rien. Se tournant vers Mme Latour. J’aimerais bien faire la connaissance de la belle
femme qui vous accompagnera mais, excusez-moi pour la question suivante, n’était-elle pas blonde ?
Mme Latour, mettant la main sur ses cheveux. – Moi ?! Blonde ? Je n’ai jamais été blonde ! Mes cheveux sont
noirs depuis mon enfance.
M. Latour, donnant un coup de pied à M. Verdin. – De quoi parlez-vous M. Verdin ? Je ne suis jamais venu ici
avec une autre femme !
M. Verdin. – Ah, c’est votre femme ? Je crois qu’il est bien temps de lui avouer que vous la trompez avant
qu’elle ne vous donne un coup comme celui que vous m’avez donné !
Mme Latour, d’un air choqué, à M. Latour. – Monsieur ! Vous êtes en train de me tromper ?! D’un ton furieux.
Et moi qui pensais que vous me prépariez une belle surprise ! Vous appelez tout cela une belle surprise, espèce
de lâche ?!
M. Latour, d’un ton embarrassé. – Non, non ! Bien sûr que non ! Vous êtes la seule femme que j’aime, et je ne
vous tromperai jamais !
3
M. Verdin. – Mais bien sûr que si ! À Mme Latour. Croyez-moi Madame, j’ai vu votre mari plusieurs fois en
train de se promener ici avec une belle femme blonde aux yeux bleus.
Mme Latour, à M. Verdin. – Vous rappelez-vous le nom de cette femme mystérieuse ?
M. Verdin. – Non. Malheureusement, je ne connais pas son nom, puisque M. Latour ne me l’a jamais présentée.
M. Latour, d’un ton furieux. – Vous ne l’avez pas rencontrée parce qu’elle n’existe pas ! Tout ce que vous dites
n’est pas vrai.
Mme Latour, hurlant . – Tout cela suffit ! Je ne veux plus de mensonges, espèce de traître ! Vous m’avez
trompée et je le sais bien grâce à votre cher M. Verdin !
M. Latour, effrayé. – Je vous le promets ! Je ne vous ai jamais trompée ! Pourquoi vous ferai-je une belle
surprise si je vous trompe ?
Mme Latour, d’un ton hystérique. – Surprise ?! Tu me parles encore de surprise ? Je t’en ferai moi, une belle
surprise ! Elle retire sa chaussure et commence à courir après son mari pour le frapper.
Rideau…
Tamara Raad ,
5ème
C
Scène 1
M. Latour, Mme Latour (Dans un jardin public)
Mme Latour.- Quelle belle journée pour se promener.
M. Latour.-Tu as raison, on doit faire cela plus souvent.
Mme Latour.- Oui. Est-ce que tu as le temps d’aller demain à la banque retirer 200 francs pour que je
puisse acheter le bijou que j’avais choisi ?
M. Latour.- Non, mais peut-être dans une semaine je pourrai me libérer de mon travail pour le faire.
(A part) Dans une semaine, mon salaire aura été déposé à la banque.
Scène 2
M.Latour, Mme. Latour, M. Verdin
Mme Latour, (montrant M. Verdin).-N’est-ce pas le directeur de la banque où nous avons placé notre
argent ?
M. Latour, (d’un ton inquiet).- Oui…
Mme Latour,(à M. Verdin).- Bonjour, pourquoi es-tu ici ? En congé ?
M. Verdin.- Non, je fais mon travail, je viens vous dire que vous n’avez plus d’argent à la banque.
Mme Latour.- Comment !? Qui l’a retiré !?
M. Verdin.- En fait…
M. Latour, (en lui donnant des coups de pieds).- Je pense que tu te trompes, j’ai regardé ce matin
même et il y avait 700 francs.
M. Verdin.- Je ne me trompe pas ! Si tu veux, tu peux voir le reçu.
M. Latour, (en lui donnant un autre coup de pied).- Mais de quoi tu parles enfin ?!
M. Verdin.- Aïe ! Ca fait mal !
4
Mme Latour, (à son mari).- Vraiment, arrête ! (À M. Verdun), Laisse-moi voir ce reçu s’il te plaît.
M. Verdin., (en lui donnant le reçu). – Bien sûr !
Mme Latour. - Il a raison, mon mari, on n’a plus d’argent.
M. Verdin. -En fait, ton mari n’a pas menti, il était à la banque ce matin et il y avait 700 francs mais il
les a retirés.
Mme Latour, (choquée et en colère contre son mari). –Butor, tu as retiré 700 francs sans me le dire et
maintenant on n’a plus d’argent !!! Tu pouvais au moins me dire la vérité !
M. Latour, (qui recule puis qui tombe).- Je peux expliquer : j’avais 700 francs de dette à payer et les
personnes voulaient que je leur rende l’argent aujourd’hui sinon ils allaient me tuer.
Mme. Latour, (saisit une branche et se met à frapper son mari).-Qu’est-ce que tu as acheté avec 700
francs ?!
M. Latour. –Des chaussures !
Mme. Latour, (qui arrête de frapper son mari).-Quoi ? Et où sont ces chaussures ?
M. Latour, (en pleurant).- Perdues !
Mme. Latour, (recommence à frapper son mari).- Perdues ?
M. Verdun. –Moi je pars, au revoir !
(Il sort en courant)
Naïm Zgheib,
5ème C
Dans un jardin public
Scène1
M.et Mme Latour
Mme Latour, en souriant.-Mon beau mari j’aimerais bien aujourd’hui prendre un café dans ce jardin public.
M.Latour.-Comme vous voulez. J’appelle M.Verdin pour lui dire de venir prendre le café avec nous.
Mme. Latour.- Si vous voulez, j’accepte !
M.Latour, en prenant son portable.-J’appelle M.Verdin et je lui dis de venir à une heure trente.
Mme. Latour.- D’accord, s’il a le temps.
Scène2
M.Verdin-M.et Mme Latour
M.Verdin.-Bonjour M.et Mme Latour.
M. Latour.-Bonjour, prenons le café maintenant.
Mme Latour.-Asseyons-nous sur ce grand banc là-bas.
M.Latour.-Allez.
5
M.Verdin.-Dis- moi, Latour, elle coûtait combien la bague que tu as vendue hier ?
M.Latour, faisant semblant d’être étonné.
Mais quelle bague ?
M.Verdin.-La bague en diamant.
M.Latour, en donnant des coups de pied à M.Verdin.-Mais je n’ai jamais vendu de bague en diamant !
Mme. Latour, en regardant bien la main droite de M.Latour.-Où est ta bague ?
M.Latour.-Dans ma poche.
M.Verdin.-Dis la vérité. Ne mens pas ,Latour.
Mme Latour, d’un air choqué.-Comment ?! Ne me dis pas… Notre bague de mariage ?
M.Latour, balbutiant Heu…oui…bon… d’accord…la bague de notre mariage.
Mme Latour, en courant.-Donc c’est fini, tout est rompu entre nous.
Et elle jette son parapluie de loin.
Yasmina Bsat,
5ème C
Une parole de trop Dans un jardin public
SCENE 1 :
M. Latour , Mme Latour
Mme Latour, tenant la main de M. Latour. – Quelle belle journée pour nous promener ensemble !
M. Latour. – Je suis tout à fait d’accord.
Mme Latour, regardant le ciel. – Regardez le beau ciel bleu et les oiseaux qui voltigent gracieusement.
M. Latour. – Ma chère femme, vous êtes bien heureuse aujourd’hui, et je vais en profiter pour vous parler de la
belle surprise que j’ai préparée.
Mme Latour. – Une surprise ? Pour moi ? De quoi parlez-vous ?
M. Latour. – Oui, une très belle surprise en plus ! Je connais un ami qui allait voyager avec sa sœur en Italie,
mais sa sœur ne pouvait plus y aller, alors il m’a vendu les billets d’avion.
Mme Latour, d’un ton excité. – Oh ! Quelle belle surprise ! J’ai hâte de rencontrer votre bon ami.
M. Latour. – Quelle chance ! Le voici, assis sur le banc, là-bas, près de cette fontaine ! Allons lui dire bonjour.
6
SCENE 2 :
M. Latour , Mme Latour , M. Verdin
M. Latour, à M. Verdin. – Bonjour cher ami ! Comment allez-vous ?
M. Verdin. – Bonjour M. Latour ! Il s’avance pour l’embrasser.
M. Latour. – J’aimerais vous remercier encore un fois pour les billets d’avion que vous m’avez offerts.
M. Verdin. – Ce n’était rien. Se tournant vers Mme Latour. J’aimerais bien faire la connaissance de la belle
femme qui vous accompagnera mais, excusez-moi pour la question suivante, n’était-elle pas blonde ?
Mme Latour, mettant la main sur ses cheveux. – Moi ?! Blonde ? Je n’ai jamais été blonde ! Mes cheveux sont
noirs depuis mon enfance.
M. Latour, donnant un coup de pied à M. Verdin. – De quoi parlez-vous M. Verdin ? Je ne suis jamais venu ici
avec une autre femme !
M. Verdin. – Ah, c’est votre femme ? Je crois qu’il est bien temps de lui avouer que vous la trompez avant
qu’elle ne vous donne un coup comme celui que vous m’avez donné !
Mme Latour, d’un air choqué, à M. Latour. – Monsieur ! Vous êtes en train de me tromper ?! D’un ton furieux.
Et moi qui pensais que vous me prépariez une belle surprise ! Vous appelez tout cela une belle surprise, espèce
de lâche ?!
M. Latour, d’un ton embarrassé. – Non, non ! Bien sûr que non ! Vous êtes la seule femme que j’aime, et je ne
vous tromperai jamais !
M. Verdin. – Mais bien sûr que si ! À Mme Latour. Croyez-moi Madame, j’ai vu votre mari plusieurs fois en
train de se promener ici avec une belle femme blonde aux yeux bleus.
Mme Latour, à M. Verdin. – Vous rappelez-vous le nom de cette femme mystérieuse ?
M. Verdin. – Non. Malheureusement, je ne connais pas son nom, puisque M. Latour ne me l’a jamais présentée.
M. Latour, d’un ton furieux. – Vous ne l’avez pas rencontrée parce qu’elle n’existe pas ! Tout ce que vous dites
n’est pas vrai.
Mme Latour, hurlant . – Tout cela suffit ! Je ne veux plus de mensonges, espèce de traître ! Vous m’avez
trompée et je le sais bien grâce à votre cher M. Verdin !
M. Latour, effrayé. – Je vous le promets ! Je ne vous ai jamais trompée ! Pourquoi vous ferai-je une belle
surprise si je vous trompe ?
Mme Latour, d’un ton hystérique. – Surprise ?! Tu me parles encore de surprise ? Je t’en ferai moi, une belle
surprise ! Elle retire sa chaussure et commence à courir après son mari pour le frapper.
Rideau…
Tamara Raad ,
5ème
C
7
Le poignard
Je venais d’arriver dans ma nouvelle maison en Bretagne, elle était éloignée du village et tout était
calme silencieux. J’avais un an pour finir un livre que j’écrivais et je cherchais du calme pour le faire. Le
propriétaire de la maison voulait la vendre à tout prix et partir pour Londres.
La maison était vaste, les murs étaient un peu noircis ; dans le jardin, les arbres dénudés aux troncs
noueux rendaient l’atmosphère déserte et délaissée. La mélancolie régnait à l’intérieur comme à l’extérieur.
Cette nuit était sombre, les étoiles ne brillaient pas et le ciel était cerné par des nuages grisâtres.
J’écrivais les dernières lignes d’un chapitre quand soudain, la porte du grenier claqua brutalement. Je fis
tomber mon crayon et en un bond je me levai. Je restais figée sur place quelques minutes, puis je m’assis
tout en me tranquillisant : c’était le vent. Je continuai mon travail calmement, mais la fenêtre s’ouvrit seule
et se referma brutalement. Un souffle froid effleura ma nuque. Je tremblais de tous mes membres, mes mains
devinrent moites et mes cheveux se hérissèrent tant j’étais effrayée. J’entendis un grincement sourd dans la
cuisine, je m’y dirigeai en hésitant et en ouvrant la porte je criai de toutes mes forces ; un poignard flottait
dans le vide. Au fond de moi je savais qu’il fallait fuir mais j’étais saisie.
Agilement j’évitais le coup que le poignard m’avait donné et je m’enfuis vers l’escalier ; il me
rattrapa et me blessa. La seule chandelle allumée s’éteignit, je ne voyais plus que le métal luisant. Je me
débattais dans le vide et mon cœur battait la chamade. Malgré ma peur, je me relevai et je courus vers ma
voiture. Je partis pour Londres.
Je n’avais jamais eu si peur et j’étais devenue morbide. Je ne quittai plus Londres pour ne plus revoir
cet objet maléfique qui me hantait.
Lara Chehabeddine
4ème C
8
Une mésaventure marine
Tout s’était passé dans un navire particulier le « S.S. Wilson » mes chers lecteurs. Celui-ci semblait
magnifique. Il était fabriqué en bois de cèdre, le plus solide du Liban, les voiles étaient brodées avec de la soie de
Chine, et sa proue construite avec .de l’or splendide et éblouissant. J’étais un mousse en ce temps-là, prêt à naviguer
sur le « S.S. Wilson » de Londres à Boston aux États-Unis. Les dames qui avaient chacune des mouchoirs à la main et
les yeux inondés de larmes faisaient leurs adieux à leurs amis et aux membres de leur famille. Et finalement le bateau
partit. J’étais excité, c’était la première fois que je voyageais en mer. Le coucher du soleil arriva rapidement. Le vent
chuchotait ses paroles anonymes dans mes oreilles, et le mauvais temps arriva. L’équipage se rassembla autour d’un
feu allumé et on se raconta des histoires. On s’échangeait des légendes de fantômes et de vampire. Mais l’histoire qui
resta imprimée dans ma mémoire était celle de Jean qui parlait de la légende d’un monstre marin gigantesque et
terrorisant qui détruisait tout ce qui passait par l’océan Atlantique.
On descendit sur le pont pour regagner nos chambres. Je me sentais fiévreux. Je frissonnais sous ma
couverture. J’entendais aussi le bruit d’un orage et des coups de tonnerre qui retentirent fortement comme un tambour
dans une parade. Pendant mon sommeil, je me vis sur une barque au milieu de l’été. Je transpirais beaucoup. Soudain,
je remarquai une silhouette gigantesque sous l’eau et je vis la créature de la légende avec sa bouche ouverte prête à me
dévorer tout cru. Je me réveillai en sursaut au milieu de la nuit, transpirant de peur. L’orage semblait s’apaiser et alors
je sortis de ma chambre pour prendre l’air puisque je ne trouvais pas le sommeil. Le vent était léger. Tout était calme,
quand soudain, mon sang se glaça dans mes veines. La raison en était simple, mais incroyable : le monstre avait surgi
de la surface de l’océan Atlantique, et poussa un cri strident. Je sentais mes jambes se dérober sous moi. La créature
me fixait d’un regard terrorisant et affreux. Je voulais m’enfuir mais j’étais paralysé de peur. Mon sang ne fit qu’un
tour, et le monstre me frappa avec sa queue gigantesque alors je tombai sur le sol et m’évanouis. Quand je me
réveillai, le soleil se réveilla aussi de son sommeil lourd. Mes collègues et mes amis me dirent qu’ils m’avaient trouvé
allongé sur le sol, la veille. Je me levai et je me posai, toute la journée, cette même question qui retentit plusieurs fois
dans ma tête : qu’était-il advenu du monstre maléfique qui hantait l’Atlantique ?
Hassan El-Ghoul
4ème
B
Le grenier interdit
On avait l’habitude d’aller, chaque été, chez grand-mère et grand-père pour passer quelques semaines
chez eux. Ils vivaient au Havre, leur maison se trouvait dans une ruelle isolée loin du port. C’était donc un
jour d’été, il y a quelques années, et le temps était maussade. Maman était sortie avec grand-mère et grand-
père, je ne sais plus pourquoi, et m’avait fait confiance en laissant mon frère Luc à la maison, sous ma
responsabilité. « N’aie pas peur. » avais-je répondu, un sourire malicieux sur les lèvres quand maman
m’avait dit de bien m’occuper de Luc.
Nous jouâmes, Luc et moi, nous regardâmes la télé… Et à huit heures, je m’adressai à Luc en
prenant un air sérieux :
- « Luc, il est grand temps d’aller au lit !
9
- Mais… rétorqua Luc.
- Pas un mot ! Rappelle-toi la promesse que tu as faite à maman.»
Mon frère se dirigea vers la chambre en faisant la moue. Après tout, ce n’était pas ce qu’il attendait
de sa sœur. Il m’avait toujours fait confiance, mais il se trompait cette fois-ci.
Je montai les escaliers qui menaient à ce fameux grenier «interdit aux petits» d’après maman, le
cœur battant d’enthousiasme, prête à mettre à exécution le plan que je mijotais depuis quelques semaines et
impatiente de découvrir le mystère que cachait ce fameux grenier.
J’ouvris la porte du grenier. Elle émit un grincement aigu. Devant moi se trouvait la pièce la plus
sombre que je n’avais jamais vue. Tac, tac, tac. Je fis quelques pas prudents. Un craquement sec
accompagné d’un grincement constant et strident se fit entendre. Un air glacial régnait dans la pièce : le vent
qui mugissait et soufflait en rafales faisait trembler les vitres sur lesquelles se reflétait la lumière du disque
argenté dans un ciel ensemencé d’étoiles. Un frisson d’angoisse m’étreignit la poitrine. Avec le peu de
courage qui me restait, je fis deux autres pas. «Aaaaahhhh…!» Je venais d’écraser la queue d’un rat éperdu
qui semblait fuir devant une épouvante. Anxieuse, je tâtonnai le sol. «Miaaouu…» «Aaaahhh!» Je poussai
un cri assourdissant qui retentit en écho : je venais d’attraper un chat ; pas n’importe lequel, un spécimen
noir aux yeux jaunes et chimériques dont l’éclat s’accentuait dans le noir. «Oouu, oouu…» Une voix se
propagea dans la pièce. Je sentis mes cheveux se dresser sur ma tête. Mais malgré la frayeur que
j’éprouvais, je me dirigeai promptement vers le coffre-fort qui se trouvait au fond du grenier. Une force
étrange et mystérieuse m’y attirait. Je l’ouvris et, vous n’allez pas le croire, mais je vis la silhouette d’un
fantôme surgir et se dessiner dans le brouillard de la réalité. Et puis, tout à coup, le fantôme dont la
monstrueuse exubérance déchirait en lambeau le manteau de la nuit, m’adressa la parole d’une voix
familière que je reconnus tout de suite : c’était la voix de maman ! Il me dit : «Sois prudente ! Je te fais
confiance Nour, occupe-toi bien de Luc ! » Mon sang ne fit qu’un tour. Frappée d’horreur, je voulus pousser
un cri ; mais pas un mot, pas un cri ne parvint à franchir mes lèvres paralysées.
Ensuite, tout se passa très rapidement : des objets sortirent du coffre-fort et commencèrent à
tourbillonner autour de moi. Mon cœur se mit à battre la chamade. C’était ma peluche, et mon jeu-vidéo, et
mon livre, mon téléphone portable… Tous ces objets, maman me les avait confisqués ! Ma raison était-elle à
ce point altérée ? Etait-ce une hallucination ? Je reculai de deux pas… et je glissai puis traversai un trou
profond en forme de spirale. Boum ! Je tombai et ne pus me relever.
Nour Chanouha
4ème C
10
Imagination
Sur les Pyramides d’Egypte
Sur les temples de Grèce
Sur le mur de Berlin
Je graverai tes idées
Sur les troncs des Cèdres
Sur les flots des mers
Sur les rayons du soleil
Je graverai tes idées
Sur mes cahiers de classe
Sur les pixels des écrans
Sur l’écho de mon enfance
Je graverai tes idées
Imagination
Sayle Makdessi
3ème A
Espoir
Dans les fragments des bombes
Dans les ailes des colombes
Dans la tristesse des tombes
Je te garde
Dans la fontaine de lumière
Dans le vent des prières
Dans la tempête guerrière
Je te garde
Dans l’ouragan des sorts
Dans le destin des morts
11
Dans la nuit des aurores
Je te garde
Dans l’univers des armes
Dans ce monde sans armes
Dans les cœurs en larmes
Je te garde
Espoir
Yasmina Al Ghadban
3ème A
Souvenirs Joyeux
Ô belles rêveries, ô souvenirs joyeux
Vous remettez l’éclat, l’étincelle dans nos yeux.
Ô comme les inoubliables sensations,
Charmantes émotions, rallument nos passions !
Les danses joviales, paroles d’amour,
Aventures d’enfance, sont remèdes pour cœurs lourds.
Ces images d’antan illustrent nos mémoires,
Transformant nos vies en magnifiques histoires.
Riad Tabbara
3ème B
12
Courage
Qu’il est terrible
Le cri des enfants qui pleurent
Qu’il est terrible
Le cri des gens qui meurent
Oh Liban n’abandonne pas !
Oh Liban relève-toi !
Oh Liban ne les laisse pas
Te torturer , redresse-toi !
Frère , ayons du courage
Pour combattre cette rage
Qui nous a pratiquement tout détruit
Le Liban surpassera cette misère
Si on se tient main par la main avec autrui
Il n’y aura plus de guerre
Bakri Sakr
3ème B
13
Venise
“COURAGE”
En cette saison d’hiver
Ton cœur s’est perdu
Ton âme s’est glacée
Tes larmes se sont cristallisées
Te voilà condamnée
Venise tu te noies !
Adieu Oh célèbre carnaval
Finies les gondoles sur le grand canal
Adieu amour et discours de toujours
Saint-Marc tu ne verras que des vautours
Venise tu te noies !
Non tu ne disparaîtras pas
De l’abîme tu ressusciteras
Ton histoire a marqué tant de siècles
Qu’aucun spectre ne saura effacer
Un seul souvenir de ton passé
Venise tu te noies !
Guerrière de toujours
Porte ton bouclier
Et défend ta cité
Montre au monde entier
Le courage d’une ancienne ville
14
Qui, avec ses églises, ses musées et ses bals masqués
Restera Venise pour l’éternité.
Yara Bekdache
3ème B
Courage
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, que tu es charmante
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, que les nuits sont imprudentes
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, de protéger cette beauté
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, de ne pas me laisser tomber
Ton chemin se perd désormais
Tu erres, tu cherches, plus rien n’est parfait
Tes habitants sont appauvris
Dans tes rues, personne ne rit
Tes enfants ont froid, tes enfants ont faim
L’espoir naît avec le lendemain
Tes enfants sont perdus, tes enfants ont peur
Partout on entend leurs cris et leurs pleurs
Ma belle ville, sèche donc tes larmes
Tu vas te débarrasser de ce drame
Tu vas te lever et résoudre tes problèmes
Tire ton courage du désespoir même
15
Compatriotes, révoltons-nous
Empruntons le chemin du non retour
Balayons les dictateurs
Débarrassons-nous du malheur
La victoire sera à la portée de nos yeux
Les colombes envahiront les cieux
Les gens viendront du monde entier
Célébrer notre liberté
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, que tu es charmante
Je t’avais dit, ma ville, que les nuits sont imprudentes
Et toi, tu m’avais répondu : " On s’en sortira
Je suis bien plus forte que ça."
Yasmine Haydar,
3ème B
Dans une tranchée, je reste ce soir
Mes amis sont morts mais il faut garder espoir
J’ai une peine qui me pique le cœur
Je ferme les yeux, le cœur envahi de douleur
La nuit est passée dans le silence
J’ouvre les yeux, je vois une lumière, je sens une présence
Suis-je mort ? Je ne le sais pas
Qui est-ce qui me regarde là-bas ?
Sami Boukhaled
3ème C
16
Assis autour du feu le soir
Je regarde tes yeux qui me donnent espoir
Assis dans la prairie
Nous nous livrons à la rêverie
Mais ensuite vient la tragédie
Mon amour est mort dans un incendie
Il y a un vide dans mon cœur
Maintenant rempli de douleur
Rawi Kammoun
3ème C
C’est bien dans mon cœur
Que je ressens la plus grande douleur
C’est toujours toi le vainqueur
Qui me parles d’un ton moqueur
Pourquoi dois-je ressentir autant de malheur ?
Quand j’ai toujours l’espoir d’avoir du bonheur
C’est bien le plus douloureux
D’avoir un cœur qui pleure.
Lana Nsouli
3ème C
17
Où es-tu parti ?
Me laissant seul chaque soir
Moi, ayant perdu tout espoir,
Où es-tu parti ?
ô beaux jours dans la prairie !
ô jours éternels dans mes rêveries !
ô soirs décorés par les libellules !
Où on jouait ensemble, en contemplant le crépuscule.
Où sont-ils partis ces moments heureux ?
Ces jours à jamais lumineux
Maudite soit cette tragédie
Où tu fus victime d’un incendie !
Emile Kanazi
3ème C
Je m’allonge dans la prairie
Je plonge dans une rêverie
J’ouvre mes petits yeux
L’azur est lumineux
18
Là-bas, l’astre de la nuit
Me contemple et me sourit
Il me dit : « Tu vas m’oublier
Une fois dans les bras de Morphée ! »
Malek Daouk
3ème C
Et c’est en pensant à toi chaque soir
Dans la lueur de tes yeux pleins d’espoir
Que je revis cette belle sensation
Qui me rend fou : c’est une passion
Et c’est bien en écoutant le silence
Le temps passe je n’ai plus de patience
Seul ton sourire peut me rendre heureux
Et le regard sur ton visage lumineux
Sarah Wehbe
3ème C
Adieu été
L’été ferme ses portes à l’arrivée de l’automne
Toutes ces feuilles mortes donnent un air monotone
Comme de la poussière le vent les balaie
Les rues elles-mêmes ont un air effaré
19
Mes mains seront froides même glacées
De nouveau le froid règnerait
Je regarde le ciel attristée
Qui lui-même pleure car l’été s’est achevé.
Voleur
Le voilà à rôder dans la nuit
Discret, dans une tenue noire
Il a le diable en lui,
Il se prépare depuis le soir.
A pas de loup
Il franchit le seuil de ma maison
Il voit à la loupe
Mes fourrures et mes bijoux bretons
Agile comme un chat
Il vole tous mes achats
Le voilà parti
Rôder dans la nuit
Comme un chien sans abri.
Lara Chehabeddine
4ème C
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Hommage à toi, mon Père
Poème Rimé
Chaque soir
J’attends avec espoir
De te retrouver dans notre prairie
Dans chacune de mes rêveries
Je te regarde dans les yeux
Et je te vois si joyeux
On s’assoit près du feu
Et on joue à notre jeu
Avec un peu de musique
Qui donne un effet exotique
Je te vois heureux
Un sourire lumineux
Parce que tu es mon papa
Je n’aimerais pas vivre sans toi
Tu es toujours dans mon cœur
Et tu ne me portes jamais malheur
Tatiana Mourad
3ème B
