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The student news site of North Forsyth High School

The Raider Wire

The student news site of North Forsyth High School

The Raider Wire

The student news site of North Forsyth High School

The Raider Wire

A nostalgic Christmas morning.

Christmas Morn

Kate Jennings, Editor in Chief December 13, 2024

The scent of pine, a frosted pane, Snowflakes falling, soft as rain. Laughter echoes, warm and bright, Candles flicker, casting light.   A crackling fire, stories told, Memories...

Oh, to be a kid again with no worries except when the next big wave is coming.

Oh, to be a kid again

Kinley Waltman, Editor-in-Chief February 13, 2024

  In the soft glow of twilight, I find myself wandering back, To the days of bare feet and endless summers, When time was a concept foreign to me.   No structured routines,...

New York’s famous Rockefeller Christmas Tree

Christmas is Still Here

Kate Jennings, Feature Editor December 12, 2023

What ever happened to Christmas? One day you blink, and it seems that all that childhood magic is gone.    When you’re growing up, Christmas is magical and joyful. Santa eats your cookies...

Even as we change, the places where we grew up stay the same.

An Ode to Small Italian Restaurants and Growing Up

Abbey Underhill, Staff Writer September 6, 2023

there is an unwilling and unwitting amount of  comfort found at the same table as your  siblings once you grow older   once the ages add up and with them the  number of living spaces...

Photo by Wikimedia Commons.

Ghosts of the Past

Kiera Walker, Staff Writer April 25, 2023

Isn’t it weird how ghosts from the past come back into our lives? It’s like walking down a straight path but finding yourself turning back around to the beginning.   It is a very odd...

“It had been double-knotted, but my planet of a balloon, terrified by this endless ocean of alien people, slipped from my wrist and floated up and up and up… And then it was gone. Just like that.” (Art by Hannah Manikowski)

God’s Balloons

Hannah Manikowski, Editorial Editor October 14, 2014

I sit on the swings, kick off my dirtied sneakers, admire my Pepto-Bismol-pink socks, look to the sky, and theorize thus- God owns a startling number of balloons. I remember things. I close my eyes,...

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