Japanese School Girls

• Kimberly Chan, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2011

Every night,
When the cold winds bite.
Late at school with her seven fellows,
Someone speaks with a very low bellow.
“… Then she went back to the room,
For some strange reason it felt like a tomb.
As she was told, she slowly went in,
And suddenly found blood dripping from a chin…”
Her light turned off and everyone gasped,
They hurtled together with very tight grasps.
It’s one of those days where ghost stories are told,
All the lights off and all the blinds fold.
One by one each light closed and finally comes the dreadful fate,
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven… Eight.