Grade nine students express their school spirit for Breast Cancer Awareness Month by wearing PINK!

(Left-Ridge: Rio Sousa, Poppy Clayton, Melissa Shang)

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October Horoscopes

Libra: September 23 - October 22

You are inspired to flirt with almost everyone you see -- except maybe that one creep who lives around the corner from you. Even with them, though, you may find it in you to smile.

Scorpio October 23 - November 21

If you're having trouble finding an answer, try sharing ideas back and forth with your partner. Together, you may come up with something neither of you would have thought of on your own.

Sagittarius November 22 - December 21

Things may not go as you planned today, so allow yourself plenty of time to make substitute arrangements. Be extra patient with your loved one, they may not roll with the punches as you do.

Capricorn December 22 - January 19

Today finds you in the right frame of mind for starting new projects. Spend today outlining your plan with your partner and getting all the details right. You'll be in good shape.

Aquarius January 20 - Febuary 18

Go out of your way to make a connection with someone who you normally don't interact with today. This would be an ideal time to get know one of your partner's friends a little better.

Pisces Febuary 29 - March 20

Sometimes inspiration comes to you from surprising places. Today a passage in a book you're reading will resonate with you, and give you insight you can apply to your relationship.

Aries March 21 - April 19

Put your partner's concerns ahead of your own today. They need you to be there for them, but they may not be able to tell you just what they need.

Taurus April 20 - May 20

Chores and errands are a necessary part of life, but sharing those tasks with your sweetie can make them seem a lot more fun. Make a list of what you need to do, then tackle them.

Gemini May 21 - June 20

Keeping your focus on your partner today will help you forget about the little things that have been on your mind. They'll be happy to have the extra attention from you. 

Cancer June 21 - July 22

You need to stick close to home as much as you can today -- but not because the outside world holds any real danger. It's just that your biggest issues relate to family.

Leo July 23 - August 22

You and your people are perfectly suited to each other right now -- so make the most of this great combination! The social energy can power up almost any plan you can think of.

Virgo August 23 - September 22

Impulsive spending may land you in trouble today -- so leave those credit cards at home! It may help to put them in the freezer, preferably in a block of ice, but you might not. 

(By: Karina, Marissa, Rio, and Angelica)

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The Battle of the Raven (By: Jennifer Eagle)

King's sword held high,

Warriors about to die.

Horses at the head,

Knights already dead.

Electricity running through the air,

Burning like a golden flair.

Rows of thoughtless minds,

Creatures of all kinds.

Timeless tales are told of this,

A battle we dare not miss.

Arrows spinning as they fly,

People with only tears to cry.

No hope for this land;

Destroyed by a King's hand.

An eagle flies above the fight,

An ancient symbol of might.

They charged on in,

Imagine how it must have been.

Staring Death in the face,

And rushing on as if in race.

Death claimed many,

Could he have left any?

Hope started to fade,

In the growing shade.

But still one fought without battle cry,

A childish girl refusing to die.

She continued to fight on alone,

With a foundation carved of stone.

She alone fought to stay,

As autumn slowly faded away.

Such a proud and distant face,

In a filthy warring place.

Radiant smile upon her face,

Only matched by unbound grace.

Slaying with her left hand,

In a harsh and hostile land.

Right hand behind her back,

With such a strength that did not lack.

Raven hair flying about,

And hazel eyes without a doubt.

She finished the battle by herself,

A single girl in bountiful health.

It did not matter if it was over sea;

She would fight and kill for me...

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My IRHS Experience (By: Kat Rooney)

As I sit here writing this, I am in the process of my last set of summatives. Ever. It definitely is a nice feeling, knowing that in a few weeks I’ll be finished high school forever, and it had me thinking, mostly reflecting on my years at this school. I can’t say I’ve loved all of my years here, but they’ve been some pretty important ones to me. These are the years of our adolescence, where we make mistakes, find ourselves, and I suppose learn to be adults. The one thing I’d really like to attribute to this school was my own personal journey, the one where I figured out what I wanted and learned not to care about the rest of the world.

In grade 9 I was really shy. Really shy. I remember stressing about what kind of clothes I should wear on the first day so that I wouldn’t stand out too much, and working myself up, convincing myself I would talk to at least one person that day. I spent a good part of the year not really feeling comfortable and looking forward to university, despite it being eons away. It was really tough; I came from a private school and knew next to no one, and wasn’t used to the freedom of wearing what you want, or the casual tone students took to not doing well in courses. Everything felt foreign. My first step out was when I noticed a recurring trend in our vocal class. If someone was sick, they’d come in wearing a fashionable scarf to signify their illness. I knew I had to get a unique scarf in case I got sick as well. I’ve always loved scarves, the more colourful or unique the better. I started to wear scarves all through winter; it wasn’t much, I didn’t suddenly become confident, but I had something that was my own. And I must admit that having something of my own was a very nice feeling indeed.

My summer passed quietly, and I moved into grade 10. I didn’t have a lot of friends at this point but I was better off than I had been. The beginnings of the year started off uneventful. I focused on my vocal studies, and was comfortable with a few friends to sit with at lunch. I joined the newly budded Manga Club, a decision I will never regret. I found myself dreading the rest of my high school life less and less, which was a relief. At the time I didn’t know it, but my gradual involvement in the school is really what helped me open up. It was through clubs like choir and manga club that I’d feel more comfortable talking to people and worried less about silly things like embarrassing myself. I am a very emotional person, and in years prior had trouble getting a handle on my emotions when I was embarrassed or scared. I’m glad to say I’ve mostly outgrown this, and this is because I stuck my neck out and joined a few clubs.

Now that I’m in my final year, I’ve grown a lot as a person, something I don’t think I would have done if I hadn’t taken a risk coming to this school, putting myself out there and doing things how I want to. If I had to give advice to any younger grades, or anyone who wants to reach out and make friends, I’d say put yourself out of your comfort zone, join groups of people with similar interests and don’t worry about how people see you.

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Life in High Resolution (By: Grant Jenkins)

Here we go again… same as every day this week; this lazy teenager just flaked out on the couch staring at me. I mean, I get I’m the focal point in the room, but seriously, all he does is lay there staring at me, you would think at some point he’d get bored, but no. I mean the room would be a lot more boring without me in it, but this kid is starting to give me the creeps. Yesterday he did the same thing, came down here all sweaty and out of breath, drinking a giant bottle of water, then he lays down, and just stares at me for hours. I can understand the laying down part, those couches look like they are made of leather. Maybe it is suede, I don’t know… but they must be comfortable, because all the kid does is lay there! At least he gets to rest his legs every once in a while, he’s not standing all day and night for months on end; he has no idea what real leg pain is!

Don’t even get me started with the older version of him; he’s a real riot too. Always coming in the room yelling, which of course bothers the kid, and he’s not happy until we’re both screaming and drowning each other out. They’re both inconsiderate too, just look at the cobwebs in the corners of the room, I have them in behind my face too, but do they care to clean me? Nope, they just let me sit and be a filthy mess, I’d love to see how much they’d enjoy being filthy for extended periods of time. I swear if I could do it myself, I totally would…

They’re all inconsiderate too, real jerks if you ask me. Lazing around, complaining, then saying how they’re going to replace me because I’m getting “old,” I’m not old! I’m in my prime! Best shape of my life! And I mean…it’s not like I can’t hear them, and I can’t grasp why they keep mentioning Sunday, I guess I’ll wait and see.

Sunday

Hey, never seen those two guys before, they look like oversized apes if you ask me. Hey… what are they, get your brutish hands off of me, and stop! It’s not my time yet! Well this is just great… back of a dark truck, this is just wonderful… wonder where I’m going, oh well, guess I’ll have to wait and see.

(The old projection television was taken to the recycling plant, and was melted down into various different newer objects. Meanwhile, at the local best buy, the family was purchasing a new high definition television, an LG television if I remember correctly. LG never spoke much, but when he did, he didn’t have a lot to say, he only said one thing)

Life’s good man.

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The City That Never Sleeps (By: Liam Casola)

            The man’s heavy footsteps echoed loudly across the nearly-empty street, his feet slapping the pavement with the intensity of someone sprinting at full speed. Panting heavily, the man stopped for the briefest of moments to adjust his large, baggy overcoat and tie his shoes. Satisfied, he continued onward, splashing through a number of large puddles created from a torrential downpour of steady rain the entire night. As the man continued to run, the rain continued to fall; his entire body was soaked from this natural onslaught of water. He had been running for hours all over Manhattan, desperately searching for information that could lead him to the whereabouts of someone important to him, someone he might never see again. Most people would have given up such an incredulous task long ago, but not him. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and the normally busy areas of Downtown Manhattan were eerily quiet. However, there were signs of life in the city that never sleeps. A flicker of lights across the street indicated that the owner of a small flower shop was still awake, while the faint outline of the Brooklyn Bridge was just visible to the naked eye. Large, flashing billboards lit up the desolate area, advertising the latest 4.8-inch screen cell phone.  A large, white car zoomed by, blaring loud reggae music out of its windows. Looking up, the man noticed an old woman hobbling past him, muttering to herself in a foreign language. The man forced himself to ignore these distractions, and instead focused on a tattered piece of paper he had been carrying in his back pocket. Once neatly printed, but now smudged in blue ink was an address, one that the man had preciously treasured for years. Now, he was finally here. He had finally arrived.

            Looming above the man was a monstrous skyscraper, its mere presence frighteningly overwhelming. Its frame cast long, dark shadows of epic proportions. The man frustratingly fiddled with the door, entering after what seemed to be an eternity. He slowly glanced around, taking in his surroundings, noticing the lighted interior and realizing that this was the first time in hours he was out of the rain. Suddenly, a scuffling sound broke the eerie silence. The man slowly turned and was surprised to see a construction worker standing before him. The worker silently gestured to follow him, and began to lead the man through a series of stairs, walkways and complicated internal areas of the building. Although the man could not tell where exactly they were going, he did notice that they were heading upward. After a particularly strenuous set of stairs, the worker stopped at a rusty steel door. He turned to the man and said, “You must go alone from here. Wait for the contact to arrive.” The man thanked the worker, entered, and grimaced as the door quickly slammed shut behind him. He was alone, outside and on the roof of the building. As he waited, the man slowly walked around the perimeter of the roof, taking in the beautiful sight of the restless city. The rain had finally subsided. Gleaming lights were shining everywhere and the buildings magnificently lit up the skyline. Despite the beautiful view, he was bitterly disappointed. Time ticked on and on, and no one had arrived yet. Feeling duped, the man was getting ready to make his way back to the door when he began to hear a low humming sound in the distance. It slowly grew louder and louder, eventually culminating into a deafening roar. Looking up, the man saw the shape of a black helicopter flying across the sky, heading towards the building. It quickly descended upon the roof of the building, perfectly landing on yellow “H” circle. The man stood in amazement as the rotors of the flying machine spun slower and slower, eventually coming to a complete stop. After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. Carrying a thick package in one hand and an umbrella in the other, a woman slowly made her way out of the cockpit of the helicopter. She wore the same 6-inch high heels, the same long, black coat, the same pair of gloves with a small hole directly above the index finger. The woman began to stride towards the man with a crisp, very matter-of-factly gait. The man noticed the woman had a face of stone as she came to within speaking distance. However, when she finally approached the man, her expression softened for the briefest moment. A hint of recognition appeared in her eyes as she whispered a simple, “Hello.” Time stood still as a floodgate of memories between the two burst, a wave of nostalgia passing over the man as he desperately tried to relive his former life. The woman handed the package to him and said, “Inside is everything you’ll need. Make sure you’re careful and don’t arouse any suspicion. Lay low for a while, then act when you get the chance.” The man solemnly nodded, knowing this was it. He opened the package and found a number of essential items; fake passports, social insurance numbers and driver’s licenses, all with different names; a business card of a former associate, a map of St. Petersburg, Russia, and a silver, Glock P14 pistol. For a moment, neither of them spoke as they both took in their surroundings and breathtaking view. Finally, the woman said, “I can’t stay for long, I have another assignment. Take care Allan.” The woman opened her umbrella (for the rain had begun again), marched to the cockpit of the helicopter and started its engines. As the rotors began to spin faster and faster, the man was caught in a state of shock. Was this what he really wanted? Did he really have a choice? The rain began to fall more ferociously, splattering down in thick drops on his head. The rotors of the helicopter spun faster and faster, soon gaining enough momentum to lift the helicopter from the ground. With one last sly smile, the woman turned the helicopter around and propelled it away from the building. The man looked onward as its shape became smaller and smaller, assimilating itself into the city that never sleeps, until it completely disappeared, forever lost in the shadows of the night.  

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The Wild Ones (By: Eden Lewis)

The warm, dry air was disturbed only by a cool breeze that rushed through the trees and momentarily evaporated the perspiration on my face. The sun beat from above but the vibrant grass below was cool and soft and lush.  A stream steadily flowed, close enough to hear the gurgling and bubbling as the clear water flowed over rocks that had become smooth and round - but far enough that you couldn't smell the stagnant water that pooled along the edges, decorating the winding stream and providing breeding grounds for buzzing, dutiful mosquitoes and aquatic life. I walk slowly through this natural plot, coming ever closer to the end of the peace and beauty that only nature can replicate. The stench of plastic and chemicals begins to mingle with the scent of rich dirt and blossoming flowers, I'm regretting my decision already. I walk towards the suburbia of the end of my land. My lonely green pack of bountiful, beautiful land that is surrounded not by more beauty or even those appreciative of beauty, but by the bricks and wrought iron fences and expensive things that these people, these sad beings, these ever-lonely and emotionless robots surround themselves with to protect themselves, to make them feel less . . . less lonely, less hungry for passion, less lovely. 

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