The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

A secret revealed between long- time friends and the agony of say- ing goodbye were the themes of this year's winners of the Milton Public Library's 13th annual Pen to Paper short story con test. The following are story exerts from the first-place finishers of each age group, who each received $100 gift cards to Chapters. The junior division garnered 21 entries and the senior division saw l8 submissions. Those wishing to read the stories in their en- tirety can do so by visiting insidehal- ton.com and searching Pen to Paper. ‘Wanna try it?’ Ash smirked. ‘Uh. . .what?‘ Jay hadn't even realized he'd zoned out. ‘You've been staring at the eyeliner real hard. I thought maybe you, like, wanted to give it a go?" Jay looked at the tiny bottle that was being offered. While he was an Open //”’ W“ “TINA NEWLOVE at The Gallerv Umtairs at Harmn Restaurant Exhibit & Reception ' Sunday, September 20th, 2015 from 1-5pm As a professional artist, Tina has been recognized for her vision and exceptional talent. Her creativity and techniques have brought accolades from curators and jurors who have recognized her potential to make a significant contribution to the cultural life of Canada. You're My Best Friend minded kinda guy, he really did not have the least bit of interest in wearing makeup. ‘Ugh. Pass’ "Ugh?" Ash arched a thick but neatly defined eyebrow. That eye- brow was a challenge as well as a question and it made Jay smile to remember all the times he'd watch other people flinch because of it. ‘Ugh, because that'd be people's reaction if they saw me wearing it." He stuck his tongue out at his friend. Ash cast his eyes down and to the side, afraid of something he might Nikhil KuarSingh and Loren Pelaez proudly display their first-place certificates from the Milton Public Library's Pen to Paper short story contest. Mldroellvunln/Spcdaltodnaldmplon see reflected in his friend's eyes, afraid of something he might see reflected in his own. ‘That might be people's reaction when they see me wearing it." His voice was small. l’m not scared of watching you die, by the way. I'm scared of the mo- Final Farewells ment after. When l embrace you with my broken heart and you can no longer squeeze back. You look so small and weak in your hospital bed, laying there, eyes dull and un- knowing due to the medication. l wipe the tears from my face and blow my nose, inwardly chastising myself for feeling so powerless. Finally, when you've fallen asleep, I lean into your ear and kiss your cheek. "Te quiero mucho,"l gently exhale, not that you can hear it. Sound- lessly, l stroll out of your room, down the oncology ward hallway and out the triage doors; l ignore the ticking clock in my head. For the few brief seconds after I wake up every morning, my mind is a blank slate. Then you become the first thought in my head, feelings of anxiety and sadness and helpless- ness push their way to my frontal lobe, fighting for dominance. Tears sting at the corner of my eyes when I hear my mother at my door. "Diana, get out of bed. It's nearly twelve." Everyone tells me I am an exact replica of my mother. But right now, l feel we couldn't get any more different.