500 words stories texts

8/11/2019 500 Words Stories Texts

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The Very Grateful Mole

Once there lived a mole who knew everything about trees, and was best friends

with a badger, who described everything about them, as the mole could not see.

One day, the mole thought, "hold on, if badger can see, then why can't I?" He

desperately wanted to see. o he went round to badger's house and said,"please

could you help me? because I am tired of this darkness." !he badger replied," I can

help you. I happen to know a very special secret potion."

o the net day, the very kind badger went out to #nd the ingredients to the special

potion. $hen he returned, he had in his paws% bark from a pine tree, sun&ower

seeds from the meadow, sap from a young oak, water from the stream and gold

leaves from the magic tree in the heart of the woods. He placed them all into a

carved wooden bowl and hung it above his #re too cook, stirring it gently every few

minutes. $hen it was cooled, he poured it into the mole's ears, saying, "sleep, so

that you will wake up and be able to see."!he net day, ole woke up, opened his eyes and thought he was in a magical

dream because he had never seen anything ecept darkness. (ntil badger came

round and told him, "you are not in a dream, you can see)"

ole said, "this is fabulous) I can #nally see what you actually look like)" *adger

helped him by describing what everything was, so that mole would understand what

his eyes were showing him.

ole said to badger, "I want to go and see the tree that helped me to see." o they

strolled through the calm woods until they found the tree with gold leaves. ole ran

up to it and hugged it, because he was over+oyed to meet this little tree that hadmade a big dierence to his life.

*ut, looking up, he saw that the surrounding large oaks needed pruning because

they were blocking the sunlight from the tree, causing the leaves to shrivel up.

"$e'd better call for owl to help us". Owl swooped over and asked what he could do

for them. *adger eplained, "these oaks need your sharp beak to cut back their

branches so that the sunlight reaches our gold leaf tree." Owl agreed to help, and

&ew up immediately to use his beak to snip o the longest branches. unshine

poured down onto the little tree and the leaves suddenly began to glow in response.

-rom then on, badger and mole visited the tree everyday to make sure it hadenough water and light. nd all was peaceful in the wonderful woods.

The Tusk Takers

By George Somers, aged 9


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!he sun shone brightly on the water/hole, re&ecting many colours on the plains. It

was beautiful. I had much fun with my father in the hot sun, splashing water all over

the place. $e thoroughly en+oyed ourselves swimming in the open water. 0ven

though we were not alone, it felt as if we were the only two there.

s the sun began to lower on the west hori1on, my mother called for us as it wasbedtime. y mother thinks the dark is dangerous because of creatures that come to

steal our tusks. $e call them the tusk takers2 we don3t know the reason why they do

that awful thing, we +ust know that they3re dangerous2 deadly. $hen we arrived at

home I laid in the shade of a tree with my family, the grassy plains stretching as far

as the eye can see2 peaceful, calm. I closed my eyes and drifted o to sleep.

uddenly, I was awoken by a loud, terrifying blast. *irds s4uawked2 animals &ed and

I cried for my parents5no reply. I ran and ran, wildly calling for my mum and dad

but there was still no reply. I was alone and terri#ed. I didn3t know what to do or

where to go, I +ust kept running. ll I kept thinking about was the tusk takers. I3m

hoping that they haven3t harmed my parents.

!he sun began to rise, red and shimmering2 red for danger. I stared around me2 all I

could see was vast and open grasslands. I walked on, for many miles it seemed but

the night drew nearer and I knew I could not venture any further. 6erhaps my

mother was right, darkness is dangerous. I found shelter and fell asleep, frightened

and grieving.

!he sun woke me with a warming touch. I was tremendously hot and thirsty. I got to

my feet and looked out into the distance. !o my great disbelief I saw a green, blue

heat ha1ed glimmer. 7ould this be water? Or am I looking at a mirage? I ran towards

it, trunk swaying. 0ven though I was ehausted, I did not stop until I reached mydestination.

!here was water and trees as I had suspected, but there was also something even

better5my family) y heart +umped for +oy as I was reunited with my parents. I was

so relieved that my parents weren3t harmed. I was greeted with such love and

happiness and we plunged into the water/hole together. I felt so elated and I have

never been so +oyful.

The Trinket Box

By Abigail Stretton-Moore, aged 1

8o one ever gave me a name. I live in here 4uietly waiting. I wait until someone

opens the bo and then up I go. I stand on my tip toes and I twirl around and

around.

y dress was pretty once but the sparkles have faded because a century has

passed since I was placed in this bo. y trinket bo, with its tiny lock and key has


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held many memories which I have kept safe. ome were happy and some were sad

reminders of the harm people do.

I was a gift from nabelle3s 9addy before he went to #ght somewhere. he kept her

letters safe in our trinket bo. fter a while the letters stopped arriving. he had a

picture of her 9addy smiling, it made her cry. nnabelle got bigger but I stayed thesame, our bo became home to another picture. handsome boy, this picture did

make her happy.

nnabelle gave me to ary, her :randdaughter. ary liked to read stories to me.

ometimes ary had to keep the light o and the sky would light up with red #re. It

seems that people did not learn much from the last war and ary3s house was

destroyed by the #re in the sky.

0li1abeth found me lost amongst the broken bricks. One lovely thing in the ruins

made by angry men. 0li1abeth loved a man with silly hair, called 0lvis. he played

his records and we twirled together. :rown/ups can be so dark while their children

can be happy +ust twirling to the songs of someone they have never met.

;ears passed and 0li1abeth grew uckily her daughter 6oppy didn3t go to the bank so I once again had a collection of

treasures. *adges about &owers, peace and beetles. I think that 6oppy was good for

the world.

One treasure was a little man called 8eil in a puy white suit. 6oppy told me that he

had &own through the sky in a rocket and walked upon the moon. -inally people had

stopped their #ghting and reached for the stars)

6oppy grew up. he liked a 6rincess called 9iana and she kept newspaper clippingsof her lovely wedding clothes. One day she threw them all away. 6eople had chased

the 6rincess for her picture had caused a terrible accident. 6oppy said she would

never keep such pictures again.

6oppy3s daughter ose keeps her treasures on a tiny phone. he takes pictures of

the world on her phone and keeps her memories there. It3s a shame that ose

doesn3t keep her memories in my trinket bo.

I have seen what makes my little girls happy and I have seen their sadness too. !he

light and the darkness have all spent time here in this trinket bo, with me.

6erhaps one day ose might remember me, give me to her daughter and we can

twirl together. I might even be given a name.

Ste!e the "riminal Banana

By #a$ob Atkin, aged 9


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>ong ago, in the far north of wit1erland, well before your uncle was born, there

lived a small boy called upert 8ice. He really was the nicest boy in town, and it was

a really nice town) It wasn3t called 8icetown for nothing. *ut even nice towns can

have problems.

!he trouble began with the bank robbery. !he bank had been there for @AA yearsand never been robbed before. !hen one cold Banuary morning the bank manager

arrived to #nd that all of the money had gone. 8othing left in fact but a feint smell

of banana.

!he police didn3t have a clue.

*ut this was not the end, in fact it was +ust the beginning.

week later the +eweller3s got cleaned out and C days after that computer store got

hit. In each case all that was left was a feint banana smell.

!he best idea that the police had was that the robbers wore banana after/shave.

upert 8ice however had a much better idea.

!he only shop that had not been robbed was the famous r imm3s sweet shop.

upert loved that shop and could not let it be cleaned out.

o he hid outside the shop inside an old cardboard bo. It was uncomfortable but it

was worth it to save his favourite sweets.

It was going dark at about seven o3clock and upert felt a bit scared being out on

his own so late. !hen suddenly he detected a feint smell of banana)

He looked through a slit in the side of the bo and saw the criminal moving towards

the old sweet shop. It was tall, curved and yellow.

It wasn3t human, it wasn3t even a mammal, it wasn3t an animal of any sort.

It was a giant criminal banana)

upert rushed into the shop and got some strawberry laces, he tied them round the

banana and pulled it over onto the pavement.

!he banana was 4uite strong and upert couldn3t hold it for long.

!here was only one thing for it.

upert slowly peeled down the skin and despite the banana3s screams upert

tucked in.

upert 8ice had solved the crime but only he ever knew.


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*ecause by the time the police arrived all that was left was a feint smell of banana.

The Soldier

By Abigail Symonds, aged 11

!he oldier

@ADC, *irmingham Hospital

I lie sprawled on my hospital bed, staring at the dying &owers in the vase beside

me. !he door opens and my nurse enters.

"orning lbert. Hundred today, aren't ya?" !he words bring back my childhood

memories.

DEDF, Gew :rove

I was born on the DAth of Buly DEDC, to a caring, loving family. y days with themwere #lled with contentment, but none more so than my #fth birthday. y parents

would always give me the most wonderful presents and, as they asked me to tear

o the scarlet paper, I knew that this gift was no eception. s my hands caressed

and cradled the polished wood, my eyes lit up with +oy. carved soldier stood in my

hands and grimaced up at me. uddenly my thoughts were pierced by a knife of

fear and pain.

DE, 8ormandy *eaches

nother shell plummeted to earth with a thump. creams shot through the air.

nother ten soldiers dead. I glanced at 7aptain avage, my platoon leader. !he grimdetermination showed clearly on his ashen face. screech suddenly pierced the

background noise of the battle#eld. I +ust had time to register the terror of a shell

before I was thrown into darkness5

DE, 9evon

earching for a ray of sunshine to lighten my thoughts, I recall better times. !he sky

was cloudless and the birds were re+oicing. 0verything was perfect. s my hands

gripped the wheel of my car, my #rst car, I felt aria's emerald eyes #ed on me.

6ulling over, I glance at her. !umbling brown curls and shimmering +ade eyes.

"o," her melli&uous voice is breathtakingly beautiful. "$hat did you so urgently

need me for?" Her secret smile mocks my embarrassment.

"aria," I suck in a deep breath, "will you marry me?"

";es, lbert" she cries. ";es, yes, yes)"

@ADC, *irmingham Hospital


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*ack now, in the present, I see the &owers again. photo hides behind the wilting

petals. aria and my great/grandson stare out at me. s I close my eyes for the last

time, I see the polished wood of a toy soldier clutched in a tiny #st. y last breath

slips between my lips.

DAA years, that is a long time to live. However, it is inevitable that every humanbeing must die2 it's not death, but the +ourney of life, the memories you've shared,

the love you've cherished, that's what really matters.

Should-Be%s

By #uliette &ea, aged 9

!he crackling of the #re startled me. It was a cold winter3s morning when the

snow&akes danced around you and the crocuses &uttered in the stormy wind. y

grandmother smiled sadly at me again. It was the DDth of 8ovember. Her white

apron was patched with mud and she still had soil beneath her #ngernails. ome

wet petals were stuck to her black dress. he had been to the emorial to plantmore &owers. I didn3t know what was wrong% maybe it was because she had lost a

button on one of her boots.

he always said%


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On her desk, wide open, was a volume about the -irst $orld $ar2 she had scored

out DEDF and replaced it by DEDE on every page. In the margin with her thin

handwriting I read with growing horror%


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stern voice.


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By Bella Boulter, aged 1)

weat drifted down my brow, everything went blank until freckles of sunlight

momentarily glistened in my eyes, bright and intense. It felt like I was drifting into

oblivion2 everything had vanished. 8othing or no one was there2 unepectedly I

woke with +olt to cosmic interference. It was Houston,


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$as it good for video games to be this real?

Se$ret Agent "hi$ken

By *aniel +ebber, aged 9

Once there was a perfectly normal chicken. $ell, that3s what the owners thought9aisy was. In fact, she was a highly trained spy chicken with a secret base under

her run. Her code name was HI7% Highly !rained ecret gent 7hicken.

One day 9aisy got a signal on her control module Kcunningly disguised as a grain

feederL from py 7amp, her spy chicken command centre.

9 !7G>0 GI8: !?=

9aisy immediately replied, 7>0 $2 GI8: ! I !H0!08I8: >> O- 7HI7G08 89

8GI89.= !he yellow/toothed devil called Ging at had been py 7amp3s arch

nemesis for many years, devouring eggs and grain and spreading disease.

ondon sewers. It was a cold, wet,

miserable night but 9aisy bravely marched on. eaching the >ondon sewers, she

switched her hi/tech camou/feathers to black, and almost immediately heard Kwith

her ultra sonic hearingL a babble of s4ueaks and low rumbling sounds. he knew at

once she had reached the evil Ging at3s monstrous and #lthy palace. >istening to

the vile plans he was sharing with his hench rats, she understood that at this

moment, she, the lone white spy chicken, was the only thing standing between Gingat and full scale war waged upon the world.

uddenly, a net dropped onto her)


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attack. he looked down into the bla1ing #re. he had a brainwave in her super/

si1ed chicken brain. he grabbed a long thin burning stick in her claws and raced as

fast as her scaly legs could carry her which was in fact nearing to breaking the

sound barrier)

Hearing Ging at around a corner, she skidded to a halt. he hurled the burningstick towards Ging at and he screamed in pain as the methane gas trapped in his

matted fur eploded, setting o a blast that knocked 9aisy backwards. s Ging at

perished, the hench rats3 hypnosis broke and they scurried harmlessly o back to

the sewers. 9aisy had saved the world.

The alm +at$hing eole

By (linor Barriga, aged 11

"Hey)" I cried out indignantly as a huge, burly man crashed into me.

rough, clumsy hand swept me aside with a mere grunt from the owner of it, whodid not even glance up from his palm. His #ngers vigorously swiped up and down

and side to side.

I ducked and swerved through the silent crowd, whose glassy eyes were #ated on

their clammy palms. I glanced about. ome people were being &attened against the

windows of shops and crushed by the vast sea of 1ombie/like people.

hafts of bright sunlight were cast down from the narrow gaps in between the

looming concrete buildings. I felt uneasy as I wandered through the concrete +ungle

and I kept my eyes #rmly #ed on the gum spattered ground. It felt like an eternity...

I burst through the doors of work, rather &ustered, realising I was once again late. I

slinked into my oJce avoiding the managers steely ga1e. s uneasy as I felt, having

such a steely ga1e boring into me, it was sort of relieving to at least be

acknowledged for the #rst time, after my encounter with the palm watching people

on my unpleasant +ourney.

!he words of my agitated manager #lled the air, until interrupted by the eccentric

receptionist tottering in, face in her palm and sloshing tea everywhere. I hastily lob

my tissue bo to her and she throws me a grateful smile as she wipes up the tea

before yet again entering the world of her palm. I thank her for my tea and she goes

out, thankfully without another line of destruction trailing behind her path. I sip atwhat is left of my tea and set to the days work.

fter the long days work, ehausted and fed up, I set o to troop home, not ready to

tolerate any nonsense. 0specially, from the palm watching people.

On my way home, I feel very con#ned and somehow end up being shoved into some

sort of supermarket, where I face an irritable shop keeper, insisting that If I come


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into the shop I must buy something. !oo ehausted to protest, I surrender money to

the persisting shopkeeper in echange for a carton of orange +uice. eluctantly, I

head back out into the street, full of people / the palm watching people.

(nfortunately for me, I come across the same burly palm watcher, once again

oblivious to my presence. !owards me he comes, drifting along , his face in his palm/in his own reality. He crashes straight into me and my orange +uice carton eplodes

on perfect cue. I slip, my arms &ailing, and swiping at his palm along the way. I hear

a clatter.

nd there it is. !he ob+ect the mans whole life seems to revolve around. $hat the

whole world seems to revolve around. n ob+ect. It's cracked and smashed into

pieces. It lays on the &oor, lifeless. It was a phone.

'un

By oy .ilton, aged /

!hey were coming / and soon.

It couldn3t be true. It couldn3t. *ut it was, and we were all forced to believe it. y life

&ashed before my eyes as I ga1ed into the ocean. $hy? $hy now? I wanted hope,

but all I had was despair. I wanted them to feel our pain as our loved ones fell. I

wanted this to be a nightmare, to wake up and #nd nothing3s true. *ut it wasn3t, and

everyone knew it. I wanted it to end / and now.

It wasn3t fair. !he end was near. I was full of that hope, the hope that when you

needed it most, it3s never there inside you. I was full of that fear, the fear that

comes and reminds you of the dangers out there ready to be discovered. I was fullof that worry, the worry that it was too late and they were coming, coming closer

and coming faster.

nd maybe they were coming, maybe it was too late. nd as I stared up into the

clouds, it seemed more real, much more true...

I felt my heart pounding in my ears as they stood beside me. I daren3t look behind

me / for they were the Pikings. It was true they had come. It seemed too scary to

be real. s the doors of the tower locked behind me, I suddenly realised I was alone)

I felt him stalking me. bead of icy cold sweat dripped from my forehead. I felt this

was the end. I knew I had to say goodbye to the world I loved so much. His image

was haunting me, hunting me down as I took my last breath of air...


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himself. However, this was our only chance. It was now or never. It was then we

decided to run.

og 9ay @E@


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!he land/dwellers seem to be social creatures. !hey live in small packs that

combine to form colonies. 0ach colony has its own territory and members generally

remain within its boundaries. Hives vary in si1e and style2 this is a source of great

interest to the behavioural specialists, who believe this may be a sign of enhanced

intelligence, or perhaps the manifestation of dierences in personal preference. !his

leads us to consider that the land/dwellers may be ready for #rst contact with ourspecies. $e will need to observe further before making this decision.

7aptain3s >og 9ay @E@M

$hen the sun rose on the far side of the planet this morning, the above 4uestion

remained unresolved2 by the time the sun set, we had made our decision. !oday, we

discovered a new and unepected characteristic of the land/dwellers% unreasoning

aggression. !hrough the probe, we witnessed one colony ripping and slashing at

members of another colony with no apparent provocation. $e stared aghast at the

destruction they managed to in&ict with their crude weapons.

$atching this devastation, we realised with absolute certainty that we could not

make contact with the species of this planet until they have moved beyond this

immature stage of development and are able to co/eist peacefully. (ntil then we

will watch, and perhaps one day we will be able to engage with this species, to help

them and to learn from each other.

7aptain3s >og 9ay @E@

!he >inguistics OJcer has submitted preliminary results of analysis% this planet is

known as Q0arth3 and the land/dwellers refer to themselves as Qhumans3.

The 'o$ket Shoes

By Ben #ones, aged 4

I was fed/up with being the slowest runner in my class at school. lways last, never

winning anything. However, I am etremely good at inventing things, so I decided to

make some shoes that would help me to run faster than (sain *olt. "I will need to

make them in time for the school sports day" I thought. !he only problem was that

sports day was only three days away. I had to get started 4uickly2 there was no time

to waste.

y #rst ama1ing idea was to make ice/shoes so that I could slide along really fast. Imade some big blocks of ice in the free1er, and when they were ready I attached

them to my shoes. I went outside to try them out, and they worked well, for a while

at least2 until the sun came out. "7urse that sun" I thought, as I stood there in a big

puddle.

y net idea needed a bit more thought2 I didn't want to get wet again. I sat there

thinking hard and suddenly +umped up and yelled "pring hoes)". I searched in


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dad's shed and found two lovely big springs. "6erfect" I thought. y shoes had dried

out by now, and I attached the springs with super/sticky glue. I tried them out in the

garden and they were great. I felt like I was &ying until, unfortunately, I boinged too

high and banged my head on the branch of the tree in our garden. "Ouch" I said,

rubbing my head, "I need something less springy".

!here was now only one day to go before sports day, so my net invention had to

be good. It was unbelievable, but would it work?

ports day arrived, and it was almost time for the big race. I lined up nervously,

waiting for the race to start. !he headmaster waved his &ag, and we were o. s

usual I was last, but then I stamped my feet hard, which set o small rockets in the

heels of my shoes. -lames and smoke shot from my shoes as I whi11ed past

everyone. I was in the lead2 it was terri#c) (nfortunately it wasn't terri#c for long.

!he problem was that I hadn't made a way to turn the rockets o. "I have a bad

feeling about this" I thought, as I tore o out of the sports #eld and into the

distance. !here was only one thing for it, I would have to take the shoes o. I bent

down to untie the laces, but the knots were too tight. "6erhaps if I sit down it will

stop me?". I threw myself backwards, but my feet shot up in the air. Nuick as a &ash

I &ipped myself over, and my feet went back down. *ut now I was going back the

way I had come. s I raced back into the sports #eld, my rocket shoes eploded with

a loud *8:, and I tumbled to a halt.

"till last" I thought. "9arn".

Mr5 *3indle%s Shrink *rink

By Alanna hilgen$e, aged 1)

friendly, wise old man named r 9windle ran Q-ull team head3 the model train

shop2 on tation treet, a bustling main road close to the train station, in

fashionable outh >ondon. r 9windle was a short, round elderly man who wore old

his s4uare glasses on a chain, with a worn blue argyle sweater, cream trousers and

&at brown shoes.

Q-ull team head3 was much loved by the local boys who visited regularly, to play

for hours on end after a hard day at school. ll his train sets were brilliant, but the

most impressive was the Q:rand 0press3 that ran through the shop and the window

display, it was know for being the best model train in outh >ondon. It mesmerisedall boys who passed by, giving them the urge to have a look in side.

!he models capture the essence of a relaing country village taking you there with

them. !here are lines of trees looking like soldiers ready to march and there were

several inky black tunnels, rivers &owed around the model village, cosy thatch/

roofed cottages stood with piercing lights shining through, pus of smoke escaping


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every few seconds from the chimneys, there were a cluster of people en+oying a

camp#re that glowed warmly and the cows and sheep munched on the grass.

!his was no ordinary train scene2 it3s most special feature were the model people

that moved, they weren3t robotic and sti, it came to them naturally, they were

totally uni4ue and looked so lifelike they could be real) !he model train master blewhis miniature red whistle, two little boys skipped through the meadows and a family

walked their dog, waving happily at the passing trains.

!ommy a regular customer entered the shop.


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ondon in the mid/DFAA3s?

!hen the *lack 7loud came into their lives. $hen she had become fat and tired from

the nine children that she had born, too distracted by the many other things that

she had to manage. he couldn3t even remember the *lack 7loud3s name, but she

could see the long hair and slim #gure and young, vibrant eyes. nd she

remembered the look on her husband3s face when she walked in on the two of

them.

i months later, her husband was dead. 8obody really knew why he had died, only

that he had suered from severe stomach pains. !hey had wanted to perform an

autopsy, but she had refused. $hat was the point? It wouldn3t bring him back. It

wouldn3t make the guilt of living go away. It wouldn3t dull the pain.

he entered the study and sat down heavily at the desk. he opened the top drawer

and pulled it out completely, trembling with the eort as she placed it on the

ground. he reached into the desk cavity and fumbled behind the handsome walnut

paneling. 0ventually, she drew out the small canvas bag, knotted at the top, and

placed it on the desk.

he sat for a while, her eyes half/closed as if praying, her breath coming in gasps.

he pulled the strings apart and put the small, cloudy, medicine bottle on her desk.

!hen in one swift movement, she took out the stopper, put the bottle to her lips and

swallowed the contents.

s she sat back in her chair, the memories returned. iing smaller doses of the

bottle contents into her husband3s tea, every day for a month. !he guilt about his

suering in his #nal weeks, but she was not going to lose him to the *lack 7loud.

Her body convulsed and she started to drift into the blackness. Her #nal sight was of

the silver bowl given to her more than sity years ago at the :rand 7oronation.


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By 'obert #ordan, aged 4

:eorge was really pu11led. He had no ideas at all for his MAA $ords entry. He really

wanted to enter but could not come up with a single idea. He thought, and thought,

and thought some more but still nothing.

He decided to go for a walk to get some inspiration. It was a cold but bright day and

the sky was clear blue. s :eorge reached the park he heard the trees rustling in

the bree1e. Or was that the bree1e? aybe there was something in the bushes.

:eorge bent down to look but he couldn3t see anything. :eorge got up and carried

on his walk, not noticing the tiger that tip/toed out of the bushes behind him.

:eorge reached the chip shop and realised he was hungry, so he popped in. !here

was already an old lady being served. he was very overdressed to be in a chip

shop, :eorge thought she was even wearing a crown) nd she3d brought her dogs

with her, little yappy dogs that snied around :eorge3s ankles. It was very odd. !he

old lady was taking ages and, strangely, the woman serving her seemed to be

bowing. :eorge got fed up of waiting and decided to go somewhere else, not

noticing the two bodyguards outside the chip shop door.

ctually, when :eorge checked his pockets he realised he was a bit low on cash, so

he went to the bank. !here was a big 4ueue, although no/one seemed to be actually

doing anything, +ust standing around with their hands up. !here were two guys in

black in the corner, with masks and pretend guns. would use it for craft at home.

*y now, :eorge had had enough. He3d walked all over town and still had no ideas.

How was he supposed to come up with an imaginative story when he lived in a

boring place where nothing ever happened? It was useless. :eorge trudged home,

still without any ideas, munching sadly on his chocolate bar. He noticed a police car

outside the bank as he passed.

He got home and got out his computer to type his story. He3d have to do something,

even if it was boring. o he wrote a story about a sun&ower called Berey. It was dull

but what else could he possibly have written about?)

a2an2ibar and the arty


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By Gra$e *e!lin-.ogg, aged 1

0veryone3s heard of the grualo

o I thought id sit down and have a go

at writing a story with humour and laughter

but I can3t promise a happy ever after.

o here we begin a deep, dark wood

where witches and wi1ards gather as they would.

It was a -riday night and it was time to party.

!he mood was fun and rather hearty.

!he cocktail bar was #lling up

with ghoulish +uice and seven up)

!he ghouls and ghosts took to the &oor while 9B cat waved his paw.

*ut who was watching them from afar?

It was the evil wi1ard Ga1an1ibar

He had a dastardly plan you see

!o spoil this +oviality.

He would cast a spell and turn to stone

all party goers within the 1one

$hy would Ga1an1ibar carry out this deed?

$ell this is a story of +ealousy and greed)

!he Nueen of the wood was happy and old

with 1illions of friends and trillions of gold.

Ga1an1ibar wanted a piece of this life

nd was prepared to get it at any price.

He was sad and lonely and poor you see

He believed that riches would hold to key


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$ith that *en gritted his teeth and screamed iar, >iar, 6ants on -ire))= t that second he

charged at me and we fell to the ground. I3m not sure when it happened, but

somehow my new dragon friend transferred to *en3s back pocket. 6erhaps it was

when we were rolling on the &oor, or maybe he &ew? 0ither way, when the teacher

pulled us apart *en was yelling madly

By Taryn :oung, aged 1

I never really wanted to be blue, I always wanted to be red or patterned, like my the

others in my packet. One day, completely unepectedly, I was yanked from my

home to face the uncertain fate that so many before me had previously

encountered.

!hump, I saw brown. 6lain old brown. I was being pulled away from the others,

luckily still with my partner. *ut that didn3t last. !hen my body was stretched so

much it put me in agony, an oversi1ed hairy creature was placed inside of me and

instantly started sweating like a geyser erupting from the ground. It was as soon as

I had been s4uashed so much that I was almost as &at as a pancake that I entered a

dark cave. I was once again s4uashed when the roof of the cave started pushingdown on me. $henever I was in the cave I plummeted to a hard substance and then

came back up again before being s4uashed. !his was very uncomfortable.

0ventually the trauma ended, or at least that is what I thought, and I was taken out

of the hollow chamber. !he foul smelling item, which now reeked, was removed

from my middle.

bruptly, I was hurled into a massive silver machine, there was a screeching noise

and I started going round and round in the giant circle, never given a break. I felt

the water fall over me and my conscience bawled I would drown. It was only when

all the water plummeted down the tiny holes on the &oor that I was removed from

the spinning beast. blast of fresh air and I re+oiced. I was hung out on a thin line

and left to admire the luscious green landscape and the attractive smell of the

succulent strawberries that were calling for me to try them. !he sky changed colour

and steel grey clouds blanketed the once gorgeous sky. I got wetter and wetter

every moment until I was violently pulled o my line and hurried inside, to be

placed &at in another machine. I hoped this one wouldn3t be as bad as the last one.

!hen a sudden blast of red hot air and I was heated. fter what felt like hours of


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aniety, I was #nally released from the deadly +aws of the molten lava to be rolled

up and dumped on the ground. I stayed there for a long time, repeatedly attacked

by an animal with sharp claws, who clearly thought I was a toy. I had puncture

wounds all over my tip. fter a few minutes of immobility, I noticed how dishevelled

the &oor was. It was unbelievable. !hen I noticed my apparent genocide% I was all

alone, eagerly awaiting my retirement and my return to my familiars.

!hump, I saw brown. 6lain old brown. I was hurled back into my new home and, in

dread, I crawled to the back, hoping never to be seen again.

Memories of summer5

By Gra$e S$ott, aged 9

One barmy ugust afternoon >ila, an F/year/old girl with brown hair, lay in her

grandmother3s garden staring at the clouds. >ila3s mum had recently been in

hospital and as she lay there staring at the clouds she tried to forget the trips to

visit her, as she knew her mum was unwell but nobody would tell her what wasgoing on. Her dad +ust looked sad and carried on working. 0ven her big brother, who

normally loved to give >ila a punch in the arm, was being especially nice. >ila

normally loved being at her grandmothers during the summer holidays but this year

felt dierent. Her grandmother was crying all the time and wouldn3t play with >ila in

the back garden like she normally would. he had grown tired of all the long faces

and concerned stares that she was not meant to see. !he constant hugs and

random presents Kalthough not unwelcomeL were making her feel uneasy. Q$hy

won3t anyone tell me what3s going on?3 she shouted out loud whilst she ga1ed into

the sky. $as she hoping for an answer? he was no longer sure. >ila began to

imagine drifting on a cloud, soaring up over her local village and across the lushgreen #elds. he felt weightless like a feather being blown upwards and away. If I

was a feather where would I go thought >ila? I would soar above the clouds and

&oat down to the seaside. >ila loved the sea.

>ast summer the whole family went to a caravan by the sea and >ila spent hours in

rock pools collecting shells whilst her brother tried to get his kite to take o. he

giggled to herself thinking about him tangled in the cord and falling to the ground in

a heap whilst the rest of the family fell about laughing. he went for walks arm in

arm with mum and dad and they watched granddad snoring in his deckchair whilst

grandmother spent the week with a &ask of tea constantly in her hands. >ila

remembered her dad asking how one person could drink so much tea andremembered mum smiling at the 4uestion. How carefree last summer felt and yet

this year was so very dierent. he wanted so much to be back on that beach.

ll of a sudden >ila had a great idea. he wanted to bring the spirit of last summer

back so she marched down to the garden shed and pulled out some deck chairs.

he spotted her brother3s old kite and she set everything up over by granddads

vegetable patch. :randmother3s tea &ask was over in the corner of the shed and


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>ila placed it on the grass net to the deckchairs. he ran into the house and

grabbed her camera2 she 4uickly scribbled a message on a piece of blank paper.

6lacing it between the &ask and the kite she 4uickly took the picture. he was going

to send it to mum2 the message said Q$IH ;O( $00 H00)3

The Gira;e 3ho ne!er ga!e uondon. His dad standing outside

*uckingham 6lace pretending to be one of the guards. His mum , slightly out of

focus, looking up at *ig *en. !he #nal picture had been taken by a Bapanese tourist

of all three of them. !hey were huddled together against the cold and the wind of

!ower *ridge. 9aniel felt sad and turned away from the picture.

!he net train entered the station. mass of people were pushing to get o the

train. !hen he saw them. His mum and dad were propelling themselves towards

him. !hey had come back for him. He +umped out of his seat overwhelmed with

relief. *ut they paid no attention to him. nd then he saw him. little boy was

standing with his parents looking eactly like he did. He wore the same coat, the

same shoes and he was oering fruit polo to his dad. $ho was this strange little boy

who had taken over 9aniel3s life? 8ow he was very afraid as he watched his family


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walk away from him. He called out to his mummy but she appeared to hear nothing.

How could she ignore him? !he little boy smiled a strange, eerie smile at 9aniel and

then they were gone. He was alone.

T.( (:(S

By Anna Gallagher, aged 11

!he eyes are always there, wakening us from our slumber. !hey make us relive our

happiest and our most painful memories. $e have felt despair, some more than

others but no being has felt the traumas we have2 so repetitive, so never ending.

ometimes we whisper to each other in our vertical resting places, but most

commonly we stay in our own tribes but no one can stop a few traitors, they stay on

the end of the line and talk to the dierent genres2 oby 9ick and !om iddle are

4uite good friends.

Our peace has been disturbed by the eyes for thousands of years2 we get picked up

and taken away. ome are careful, but others bend our spines so we can never sitproperly again. Our only times of peace are as we wait, spines eposed, on the

shelves which we call home.

*ut, those eyes are never content they eagerly read through our most terrifying

times, they are emotional vampires feeding on our sadness. uch pain attracts more

eyes and we get plunged into a pool of despair. ome must suer being so used

millions of times across decades. !hey don3t even seem to be aware yet they

emerge from our troubles enlightened, they get +oy through our sorrows.

*ut not everything is bleak and miserable, we live happy moments as well as sad.

$e are +oyous as we are reunited with lost family members, as our parents comeback from war or even +ust being with people who we care for, these moments are

the best things that happen to us, but doing the same thing over and over can get

tedious and eventually we take even the greatest moments for granted. 8o matter

how great the triumph, no matter how elated the moment or how evil the defeated

we are empty our lives achieve only indierence. *oredom is our master.

*ut there is a hope, more and more we are put back upon our homes. $e spend

most of our time at peace. !he eyes visit less and less. $hy are they not visiting us?

9o they at last care for us? 8o, for they have found new pastimes to gorge

themselves upon% -irst it was theatre, then cinema and now the television who took

pity on us, but their rule has been short. Ours was much longer. lready new

entertainments have taken the eyes away. -acebook, twitter and instagram have

taken away the glory of the arts. 7hatter is the new god.

8ow we get picked up less and less for the good lord has given mercy. $e are at

rest. However a new whisper of hell has come. $e hear of a place called


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eist, merely a &ow of electricity. $e can3t be certain of the name, all we know is in


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I ran o to ask my mother if I could ever be with the boy of my dreams. -ive

minutes later I emerged from her chambers.


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!he men were getting close, following the trail of human and beast through the

trees. 9eath hovered in the air. !hey picked up their pace and ran.

!he beast reached a scorched clearing, very dierent to the one it had started at,

human made, lifeless. In the centre of the circular space the girl sat on a decaying

stump her leg lying awkwardly. It was time. !he beast &attened her ears, tucked inher tail and leapt.

0verything ran in slow motion. !he girl spun round to face the beast. $ith cold eyes

she lifted a silver pistol from her lap. s the beast widened its gaping mouth the girl

carelessly &icked the safety and pulled the trigger.

ilence fell across the clearing. !he young girl pulled out her mobile and sent a

prepared tet which simply read


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badge made out of bottle tops with my shining image on it and the words Q Pive la

kitchen revolution)3

O:) I am a revolutionary) I have accidentally started something and now these

ordinary kitchen utensils are looking up to me as their leader)

I must be strong. I must be what they need me to be. $e are the forgotten,

mistreated, undervalued citi1ens of this house no more. nd so, I do what any other

brave leader in my position would do............I have a little cry and leak a bit of bin

+uice onto the &oor. !he manky mop sees my embarrassment and 4uickly mops

away my tears.

!hen with the strength of my comrades around me, I lead them out onto the

battle#eld. One by one my comrades use the footstool to hop up and +ump inside

me. I carry them tirelessly up the bone knackering stairs to where the householders

lie snoring. (sing the courageous duck tape we heroically bind the humans into

their beds. >ayer after layer of tape is stretched around them until they look

completely mummi#ed. $hen the +ob is done we look at our work with pride, and all

skipped together handle in handle o down to the local charity shop to start our

new lives......

?505=5&

By Aliyah Begum, aged 11

!he clock strikes thirteen. Its resounding bell somehow reaches the dingy mine,

momentarily muRing the grunts of the ehausted workers. Occasionally, there is a

small eclaim of ecitement, when a glint of blue subtly gleams through the dull,

grimy stone. !his hasn't happened in a while. sharp pain shoots through my body2the eects of mining phsolodite. 0lectric blue, etremely valuable and diJcult to

#nd, phsolodite is a precious gem that we workers have to mine. 9on't ask me why /

I don't have a clue. -.O.(.> Kthe -ederation Of (ni#ed >egionsL order us to do it. nd

anyone with the will to survive doesn't 4uestion -.O.(.>2 they're the boss, always

have been, always will be.

!hey changed everything, according to @SC Kmy 'mother' who gets paid by the

government / -.O.(.> / to be maternal towards meL. pparently, DCM years ago, you

were actually allowed to attend a school, and go to the toilet without being timed.

;ou could even live with your own family, have friends and communicate with each

other) !he way time was calculated, was dierent too. !hen there was the $ar of

evolution, an almighty war, where billions inevitably died. It was during this war,

that -.O.(.> took over. nd changed everything.

7FE nudges me, telling me to concentrate. Our concentration is a matter of life or

death. !he stern -.O.(.> worker glares at us, glad to have an ecuse to scrutinise

someone, at last. "Oi) :et on wi' your minin')" he yells. bruptly, someone cries out


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in pain2 the phsolodite must be getting to him. He continues groaning. 7S is his

name, well code, I think. 7learly infuriated by 7S crying out, the -.O.(.> worker

orders him to be silent immediately. tupidly, 7S doesn't. *rutishly, the guard

raises his whip. I can't bear to look. brisk, raucous snap #lls the air. !hen a cry of

agony. I can't believe the cruelty of -.O.(.>2 he was in pain) He wasn't breaking the

law) y anger bubbles uncontrollably inside me. 8ot a good thing. $ithout warning,I &ing down my pickae in rage. (h oh. *ad move.

!he same guards hastily drag me away, up and up, into the leader of the mining

mission's oJce. I am astounded. $hile we have dirty, uncivilised huts, this oJce is

lavish) 6lush cushions, velvet chairs and a groomed oJcer behind the mahogany

desk. "$ell, what do we have here?" he asks threateningly, "!he start of a

rebellion?"

I remain motionless. He nods to the guards. I am taken to a room, #lled with an

abundance of phsolodite. !he gems glisten mischievously. !he door is slammed

shut. 9ust chokes my throat. !he phsolodite ineplicably glows. !he room is #lledwith a &ash of blue energy. !he energy &ares in my pupils. y brain feels weird.

8efarious. uperior. 6ossessed. !he terrible truth of phsolodite dawns on me. nd it

spells trouble.

The ?east of *e!il and Angel in a erson@s .ead

By *aisy Simson, aged /

9evil waited impatiently for ngel to come. He had been waiting for the last half

hour, and was getting bored sick of it. uddenly, ngel whooshed in breathlessly

through the right ear.

anything to stop it)= ngel told 9evil.


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ngel. !hey did look irresistible.


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;esterday was my ninth birthday. ome smelly child came along. I was so ravenous,

I ate him. I should have been more friendly, I'm all alone now... -ound trail of beans.

:oing to follow it, then take a nap.

9ay C,@FS.

$ell, there was party guests at the end of the trail. *ut the seven girls fainted, and

the si boys left trampled everyone to death. 8ot much of a party.

9ay C,CAA.

mell of rotting corpses is putting me o these dried beans... nd it's a shame,

they're a lot tastier than stupid old spiders.

9ay E,CCA.

oped around a bit. >ooked at walls. 8amed one crack Beremy, not sure if he's a guy

or a gal though... It's really dark in here. $ish they'd send me some matches oneday... I wonder how I'd light them with these hooves though?..

9ay E,CMA.

Nuite hungry. Pery lonely. -ive days until my birthday. I hope they send food. I'd like

a cake, but all they ever send is smelly kids. I'd love to know what chocolate cake

tastes like. 6resents, too. >ike a scented candle, to go with those matches. y cave

really reeks of death.

9ay E,CM.

!omorrow is my birthday) eanwhile, I ate a spider. I don3t know if it was poisonous.8othing bad has happened yet.

9ay E,CMM.

@Sth birthday) 8o cake. I can hear someone coming near me, though... ;ay, I can

see light) !hey brought candles) tring too) I've never had string) I think string

might be fun to play with2 nd he has a sword) uch more innovative than +ust

trampling them to death... $ait, what are you doing? top it) I stopped eating

people years ago) nd stop wrestling me) !his isn't the Olympics, you know)

*og (at *ogBy Amabel Smith, aged 9

beautiful morning, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and I3m sat in mum3s

shop wearing a +umper made of dog hair. I have to wear it because my mum thinks

it3s a great way to advertise her business%


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I3m really getting into this business2 I might even take it over when I3m old enough5

or maybe not. *ig *ill, nastier than a lion with a toothache, walks into to the shop

and I really don3t want him to be here. um3s been in a wheelchair these last two

years after a car crash and poor old mum won3t be able to cope if *ill starts

demanding money from her again)


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By Sebastian +eal, aged 11

Q90!08!IO8)3 creamed the pale/faced teacher rs *lack. !om slouched back in is

his creaky, old wooden chair before burying his head in his arms. He saw the world

melt into a dreary black and white mist of small children and livid teachers.

!om mith lived in a normal house with a normal mum and a normal dad. !he thing

was that !om was anything but normal. He had the ama1ing power of being able to

00 feelings. If someone were sad the world would turn black, white and grey, but if

they were happy it would turn into all the vibrant colours of the rainbow. It was a

true gift.

!om snapped back up as soon as his name was called% Q!om stand up)3 He stood up.

Q-or daydreaming, again, you will stay and sharpen the pencils for the whole class=.

!he world turned deep grey. !om groaned while some of the rest of his class

sniggered and whispered.

o, that break he sat in his colourless world sharpening the pencils that weresprawled all around him. !he worst part was that he could see his friends bouncing

outside and he was getting slightly 4ueasy from the sudden changes between

colour and grey. nd then the school bully walked in and the world turned black

!om could see his anger that clearly. He could see the bully3s missed breakfast, as

his mum was too la1y to serve it2 he could see the non/eistent lunch. nd he could

see the long absent father too. !he colour of betrayal was de#nitely black. o,

before the bully could say, or even worse, do anything, !om pulled out his lunch

bo, oered it to the boy and said% QI totally see how you feel. >ets share my lunch,

shall we?= !he world turned lighter shade of grey. *ut then, !om understood in a

split second, +ust before his lunch bo took a &ight in the bully3s colossal hand, thatthis was as bright as it got for this boy his world was grey, full stop.

Bust as !om thought that he was safe, he felt his solid lunch bo smack his forehead.

He could see the grey apple collide with his ear. nd he could see the black blood

pour out of it. nd then, there was no pink, white or black, +ust simply nothing. !he

world disappeared. !he last thing he remembered thinking was% Q$as this encounter

with the bully one too many? nd, why could he see no colour at all? $hat did that

mean?3

!om's mother was standing in front of the window, looking at the garden in full

bloom. he was in deep thought admiring the &ower whose name she did not knowand whose colour she could not describe / it simply was a blend of every single

shade of every colour you could ever think of. "I shall call it !om" she said to herself

and slowly bent to take its deep, sweet smell ....

The *e!il%s Voi$e

By ?ran$es$a ?airhurst, aged 9


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>ife always has its ups and downs, nobody can stop them from happening. !his is a

story about an old man, :eorge.

:eorge was sity eight, he had big half moon spectacles and soft white hair. His

eyes sparkled when smiling which made his face light up, this was only when he

was happy of course, when he was in a terrible mood his face would turn raspberryred and look like it would eplode) He had a little cottie dog called 9art, his wife

6etal had named him that because she said the name had a sense of adventure.

It had been nearly ten years ago since they had both realised 6etal had a lump in

her side, she had cancer) *ut by the time they noticed the lump, they were too

late ...

6etal was a lovely lady and never let anyone down. $henever you saw her she

would be smiling and laughing, and that3s why :eorge missed her so much.

0ver since 6etal died, :eorge had had a little noise in his head, Q!he 9evil3s)3 -or a

long time the 9evil3s voice had haunted him, telling him what to do. ometimes thedevil was a sweet angel singing in his head, Kwhen I said haunted, I didn3t mean the

9evil3s voice haunted him all the time.L ometimes his heart would skip and sing,

sometimes when he was in a bad mood his heart would say Q6lease be 4uiet 9evil.3

ll in all, the 9evil wasn3t that bad)

>ong ago his wife had had a beautiful baby called ay, she was now an adult. he

rarely came to visit. $hen 6etal had died ay had felt upset and cross, and what

was worse in her head, was that :eorge was sad too. He wasn3t really paying much

attention to ay and a few years later she left. *ut that night :eorge picked up the

small black telephone, dialled the number and asked her if she would come round.

!he net morning when he woke up he heard sweet singing, 9evil was happy) !he

9evil sang Q7ome on :eorge, wakey wakey a beautiful girl comes today.3 *ut then

the voice changed, Q:eorge, our daughter is coming today)3 He suddenly

remembered, 6etal his gorgeous wife, it was her voice) :eorge immediately

clambered out of bed, dressed, hobbled downstairs, went into the kitchen, made

breakfast and then followed 6etal3s favourite recipe. It was Pictoria sponge. :eorge

had +ust put the cake in the oven, when suddenly the door bell rang. :eorge opened

the door and there stood ay) Her mousey brown hair waved in the bree1e, but she

was not alone) In her arms was a baby girl.

QHello3 said :eorge shakily.

QHello3 she replied. Q!his is ally, um and she loves cuddles)3

Qight, come in3

-inally when they were settled, ay asked Q$ould you like to hold her?3


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Q;ou would)3 urged the 9evil.

QOk3 :eorge answered.

8ow he had ally in his arms everything changed, and then the noise stopped...

The Bird *og

By (!a &ongland, aged 1

It was oberts last day as a #reman, he was about to retire. He was dreading the

lonely days ahead. !he day so far had been uneventful. s he s4uee1ed his tea bag

for his third cup of tea that day he was interrupted.

I8: I8:. shrill voice screamed from the phone < H0>6) a poor little cat is stuck

in my oak tree=. obert sighed, was this the last rescue of his career?

s obert clung onto the hydraulic ladder he peered through the leaves, to his

ama1ement he was not greeted by a cat but a most peculiar looking dog that was

covered in feathers sat in a nest. It was complete with wings and a crest. He asked

himself how did this bird dog get here?

few weeks earlier a puppy lay at a roadside shivering and distressed, abandoned

by her owners. Her breathing was shallow she willed the night to take her, ending

her troubles. he had nearly given up until the morning sun warmed her matted fur,

she had made it. Her #rst sight were the birds foraging for twigs and leaves to build

their nests. !hey looked carefree and were singing in the trees. he envied their

ability to build their home from scratch. !his ama1ing sight #lled her with a new

courage and motivation. $hy couldn3t a dog build its own nest and provide foritself?

he collected sticks and moss to build her nest in the hedgerow and would regularly

forage for food behind the village pub. he thought if I want to &y like a bird I will

need feathers. !his was achieved by rolling in mud and then in random feathers.

eturning from a food foraging epedition she had collected a mouldy sandwich and

a broken umbrella which she hooked to the nest for shelter. !hat night a storm

erupted and a huge gust of wind blew the umbrella into the air taking the little dog

and nest with it. $hen the wind settled the umbrella gently &oated the nest and dog

into an oak tree.

waking in the morning she was thrilled QI3ve achieved it3, I believed I could live like

the birds and it has happened. he surveyed the pictures4ue scenery and en+oyed

the birds tuneful songs. However she thought QHow I am to get down from here?

:ingerly she got out of the nest and balanced on the branch. he lifted her feather

covered legs one at a time and tried to &ap them. oon she realised there was no

hope.


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obert held this unusual looking creature #rmly as the hydraulic ladder turned and

&ew down to the safety of the #re engine. -lying again thought the puppy.

week later obert sighed as he tried to #nd a matching pair of socks. s he looked

at the puppy making a nest with his clothes he realised retirement was not going to

be dull, he may +ust have to wear odd clothes.

The "urse

By *anielle Smith, aged 9

One spring afternoon ophie, her um, 9ad and dog *arney went walking in the

nearby spooky woods. !hey were en+oying watching *arney running around chasing

s4uirrels, but then he ran o and they couldn3t #nd him. 9ad urged ophie and her

um to go home as it was getting terribly dark and he would continue further into

the woods to locate *arney. fter a long tiring walk he eventually found *arney net

to a small dwindling #re. s he approached, a mysterious #gure emerged from the

shadows, making him +ump. uddenly the #gure, an old skeletal woman, pointed herbony #nger at him, screeched

witch) s 9ad ran away with *arney at his heels her spine chilling voice rang in his

ears%


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instinctively hugged him. t that moment she could feel the fur changing into

clothes the curse was lifted) s they stumbled gratefully from the cave ophie3s

um rushed up in relief.

monster)=

The Big BangBy Anna "hamberlain, aged 1)


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smell like *illy *renton3s worst ever fart began to #ll the air and !imothy looked

down in alarm at his bench. !hick grey smoke #lled !imothy3s nostrils. !he glass

container into which he had poured his random mi shuddered and shook. !he

pushy parents started to point. !he science teachers went pale. !imothy gulped.

*OOOOOOOO8)))).

s the smoke cleared, the science teachers began to clap and a tear of pride

trickled down 6rofessor nookhorn3s cheek. voice boomed% < >adies and

gentlemen I give you the winner of this year3s ;oung cientist of the ;ear / !he

*iggest *ang% !IO!H; !08!O8)=

Bigfoot%s Big *ay

By Milan Turk, aged 9

He lies in his damp icy cave. !here3s a misty light shining in from the morning sun.

He is waking from sleep. He is massive and tall with wide shoulders and strong

arms. His eyes are wild and a special shade of grey like dark ice. !he matted fur onhis body is dark brown and smells very musty.

In the silence of the morning there was no way he could have known what was

going to happen to him that day.

He got up and walked to the cave entrance. He lifted his arms and stretched his

leathery hands up into the sky. $ith a yawn he opened his mouth to show sharp

teeth.

0very day he walks down to his favourite place / a clear blue lake where he drinks

water. ometimes he catches a #sh. !here is another area nearby where he #ndsberries, roots and bugs. He isn3t a fussy eater.

s he was chewing on a piece of honey comb he found in a hollow log, he heard

dierent sounds. He took safety behind a large tree. !here were two creatures

walking near the lake. !hey looked a little like him ecept they were smaller and

didn3t have as much hair.


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wonder if it was a good idea what they had done. !hey didn3t want to keep it. !hey

should let it go. If they told the police or scientists they would +ust take the animal

and do testing on it. Bacob and Bim didn3t want that.

!hat evening the *igfoot had come out of his sleep. !hey had food but decided to

give him a chocolate bar to start. He seemed to really love it) !hat night, as theywere asleep in the tent, *igfoot cut the rope with his sharp pointy teeth. He raced

over to their tent and ripped the tent door open. Bacob screamed in horror) !he

*igfoot +ust looked at them with his icy grey eyes and grabbed the last two

chocolate bars sitting on the &oor. Bim thought he saw him smile. !hen *igfoot left

swiftly into the darkness.

All the Time in the +orld

By Susannah Ames, aged 1

Isn't time peculiar? ometimes it &ies, free like a bird. I'll never be free now. single

envelope changes that. *ut sometimes each tick feels like a lifetime passing. t themoment I have all the time in the world, literally. I have no age. !hat changes today.

arch DEth @FSM. !oday I get my countdown. !hat's where my time starts. nd

eventually ends.

ccording to my mother, they used to measure age as an increasing number. *ut

the population continuously rose, until they decided only the most worthy should

live. o now we're tested, our intelligence, looks and charisma. It3s great, for the

rulers who have no issues. 6erfect, if you're perfect. *ut why should they condemn

me, because I'm not? nd when that envelope comes, that's when you get your

number. !he number is the amount of years you have got left to live. !he highest

numbers I've ever heard of is @M years. !he lowest is DA minutes, apparently the

girl died whilst reading it. I say apparently, because you never know what's true and

what are lies spread by the rulers, scare tactics. I shouldn't speak against them. !he

countdown starts as soon as you get the letter, so there's no point in not opening it.

I've tried every option. !here is no way out. !hat's the problem with the new life.

!here's never a way out.

!he testing wasn't what I epected. $e got led into a room where there were lines

of desks and booklets. $e were told we had two hours. I'm never been commended

for my intelligence.

eamined. I'm not ugly, M', brown hair and brown eyes, but I'm certainly not

ravishing. I was shoved at the side while supermodel material strutted around.

!hat's me, always shoved at the side. !he net part was the hardest, the interviews.

!he cold air, white tables and stony faces +ust made me panic.


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work, praying for the &oor to swallow me up. o instead I +ust ran o sobbing. I don't

think my articulation skills will have rated very highly either somehow. It's not the

end of the world, my mother told me. *ut it could be. It could be the end of my

world.

*ut here I am. nd here's my letter. I hold the white paper knowing what's insidecould change my life forever. $ill change my life forever. I've had it for DA minutes,

so at least I won't have broken the record. *ut the importance of this number) y

#ngers brush it, as my nails tear it open.

'7ongratulations, you will......'

Assassi7un

By #emima Venturi, aged 9

7allous, crinkly killer 555

or calm, kindly 7atholic?

s the trial begins of the elderly nun accused of murdering and dismembering a

shop manager, before disposing of his body in her cavernous shopping trolley, I

write an eclusive article based on #rst hand knowledge.

s a child, I lived in the same village as the accused. Here is my account%

In desperate need of a bar of chocolate one dri11ly aturday afternoon, I entered

the village shop behind ister agdalena from t. ugusta3s 7onvent.

napping her head round as we went in , she looked me up and down swiftly withher rapid, darting eyes, +ust like a li1ard assessing its prey. Her eyes were magni#ed

by little round glasses and they seemed to bore right into me like laser beams.

!hen her crinkly face, which resembled a soft, used tissue, relaed into a gentle

smile. < $ell hello there my dear)= she greeted me with her lilting Irish accent, and

she patted my arm with her veiny, brown/ spotted , claw/like hand.

$isps of white hair peeped out from under her wimple and her skin looked powdery

and pale.

he resembled a tiny bird as she pulled her giantshopping bag on wheels up the aisle with 4uick steps, like a purposeful pigeon.

$atching her in fascination as she threw item after item into the voluminous bag, I

followed her up and down the aisles. s we neared the till she turned and slipped a

bar of chocolate into my pocket. < little present from me ,= she winked.


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as piels. I didn3t get much use as the boy who was previously playing me focused

his attention at the view and clutched me in his hand but I didn3t mind. !he boy3s

grin was so huge it stretched o his face as he blew bubbles over the edge and

watched them travel out of sight. !he screen turned o and I patiently awaited my

net user.

I was soon aroused by the roar of an engine and the brightness of the lights bearing

down on me. It then occurred to me that I was on a plane. t #rst I was rattled and

shaken but then it all settled down. I gladly looked out of the small opening at the

blue sky and the passing, &uy clouds. !he young boy who was playing me peered

through the window curiously every so often +ust pinpointing dierent landmarks on

the way. I was used as a pass time for hours on end until the view from the window

had changed from a blue sky to pitch black. However, as the sky had grown darker

the bu11 of ecitement had grown larger as the +ourney was coming to a close and

their destination came into view. s the plane3s wheels scraped the runway3s cold

surface the boy had a silent giggle and his body +olted as a wave of adrenaline

passed through him. Once again the screen turned o and I rested in silence.

!he thing that makes my eistence worthwhile is the +oy and smiles I put on

people3s faces and the places I3ve been to during my time on the app store. s an

app those eperiences should be treasured as one day every app will gradually fall

to the back corners of the app store never to be clicked on again. -or now I can

en+oy the glimpses of people3s lives when they invite me to by tapping my icon.

Ali$e and the 'ussian Sy

By &ouisa &yn$h, aged 9

lice hurried o the large, red bus into the enormous crowd in !rafalgar 4uare. he

glanced over her shoulder nervously to check no one was following her. Her father

had told her to keep to the shadows of the soaring walls. s buses rumbled noisily

passed and cars beeped angrily, lice made her way silently through the crowded

streets. uddenly, a hand clasped over a petri#ed lice, she hardly dared to look.

ondon in one piece. he felt

in her pocket to check if she still had the papers that were so secret people would

kill for them.

-ootsteps echoed in lice3s ears, they felt spine/chillingly close. esisting the urgeto look, lice 4uickly darted into an ally and held her breath. he waited for the

footsteps to pass. !he net second the footsteps stopped and a shadow fell over

lice. !he shadow belonged to a ussian spy) lice clasped her hand over her

mouth to stop herself from screaming. he turned and &ed. he ran and ran until

she came to a dead/end)


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ondon crowds. lice glanced back. !here was no sign of the great hulking

gorilla. ondon.


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later with wheelbarrow and tools. He leads me through an archway of rambling

sweet/smelling roses. *eyond which is a neat and tidy garden.

He tells me of his work, wanting to make the park how it was before he left

osemary :ardens to face the threat of the :reat $ar. 0very evening he digs,

prunes and plants, attempting to make the park the beautiful place it once was. Hispride in his work is clear and this evening, I can help. He cuts back the overgrowth,

turns the soil with his large garden fork, I help by fetching the tools he needs and

putting those he3s #nished with back in his wheelbarrow. !hey are dirty but as I lay

them down, they look shiny and new once again.

lbert takes a small pouch of seeds from his pocket. !ogether we kneel and scatter

them. s each lands it 4uickly grows, luscious green leaves and a bud which opens

into a beautiful &ower. !he ground is full of elegant blooms, deep red with black

hearts. s we scatter more seeds I see the sadness, the memories, the pain on

lbert3s face. !hese are more than &owers, they are each a friend, a soldier of the

trenches.

lbert reaches out, tenderly taking two &owers. !ucking one into my bla1er pocket

and one in his, he turns away. !aking his wheelbarrow, he turns, passes through the

rose archway, out of sight for a moment. s I stare beyond the garden he is there,

cold, grey, a statue lbert Onions, Head :ardener, DFF DED.

I look back as I leave, I know what lies inside the old iron gates. !hey no longer

hang sadly from their hinges, I know the beauty beyond. omeone will always look

after osemary :ardens lbert Onions and me.

The Agonising Summer

By Beth +atkins, aged 9

!he petri#ed children stared at the horrendous building covered in thick, mouldy ivy.

!he windows were smashed and it looked like an ogre had plunged its #sts through

the red grimy roof.


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;ou ga1ed at me through the misted window, your eyes wide with wonder, your

mouth full of silence2 I had obviously captured your attention. o, I bowed my head

and preened my crimson chest standing out against the rest of my dusty feathers

like a berry in a forest. 6uJng out my chest, I raised my head in pride. ;our mouth

fell open in awe. I caught sight of shimmering cat like eyes darting in your sockets2 I

had brought out ama1ement from the depths of your soul.


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uddenly, I saw you frantically pointing and gesticulating with your hands. I glanced

desperately behind me only to see a looming #gure of a s4uirrel advancing upon

me. shiver ran down my back. ;ou were biting your nails and chewing your lips in

aniety. 7onse4uently I spread my wings and the split second the s4uirrel leaped,

his limbs &ailing and his tail circulating , I soured, as free as a plane, leaving the

s4uirrel and disaster behind in the past. 7heering wildly, you encouraged me. I didloop the loops and tricks beyond compare, my con#dence and your whoops leading

me into the painted, clear blue sky. !hen I +ourneyed back to the colossal pine tree

where I lived with my chicks. In the distance I brie&y saw you wave your pale hands

at my rapidly disappearing back.

8et morning, my chicks were getting restless with hunger, nearing the brink of

starvation. I was desperate when I reached your garden, frantically scavenging for

food, my chicks breakfast. ll of a sudden I caught a glimpse of you through the

window. ;ou were smiling, perched on a seat, pointing to a corner near the bird

feeder. y eyes grew wide as they devoured the sight of what my chicks would soon

be gratefully consuming with enthusiastic relish. large chunk of bread andhandfuls of raisins and oats lay in a pile. I sent you a silent thanks, but I meant it2

this was the best feast of a lifetime. I knew where I could rely on a trusty source of

food. !he grin on your face spread wide, as mine on my beak did too.

-ive minutes later, I arrived at our nest with my grand food burden bearing me

down. y chicks gobbled it, en+oying every morsel. I give you thanks and wish you

luck. -or this I am grateful. s grateful as any obin could ever be.

Alan

By Billy 'auer, aged 1)

s Hilary took the steps up to where lan lay she longed +ust to feel his loving

embrace +ust one more time. His death left Hilary bitter, depressed and alone. -or a

fourty seven year old lady, this was devastating. Her usually impeccable standards

of dress had plummeted. usually elegant dresser Kwell known because of her

fondness for party frocksL had thrown on any old clothes, completely contradicting

her characteristics. Her normally beautiful hair had &opped barely above her eyes,

and wrinkles had formed on her face as she had completely ignored her daily

beauty regime.

he had brought with her several ob+ects that lan loved almost as much as heloved her. !he #rst item that was removed from the ancient sda carrier bag was a

DE world cup #nal ticket. He was always warbling on about Qthe good old days3.

!hat seemed to be the only thing that lan ever spoke of, forgetting how terrible !P,

politics, and basically everything new is nowadays. he had also brought his

favourite pair of shoes. he placed his shoes net to his gravestone and lay down

net to him.


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>ay there, alone, Hilary had time to think. !he memories were &ooding back. he

remembered every detail of their #rst encounter. lan3s #rst words to Hilary were


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a tragic event occurred at one/thirty of this morning,

my dear husband was murdered whilst

tracking a meteor shower in his observatory.

I would be eternally grateful if you would solve my Husband3s murder.

;ours incerely

>ady lice Hutterdome.

!his case was a big break I was so determined to solve it I was at the house that

very day. It was a curios old building it was5.. 9ecrepit, yet55 beautiful much like

an old statue that3s been warn away or a painting that3s faded but has shown more

detail. s I approached the ma+estic lion head door knocker I almost felt enveloped

by the cloud of grief that surrounded the old manor. Gnock Gnock Gnock, the door

was opened by a young panish girl, she must have been only DM, and she lookednervous, unsettled% I had seen the #rst suspect.

I entered the room to #nd the body of the starga1ing >ord slumped atop of his

telescope like a dress carelessly slung over a washing line, it did not take two

minutes to #gure out he had been stabbed and it took less than one walk around

the building to establish it can3t have been someone from outside the house Kit


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rained heavily that morning and there were no muddy footprints inside or outside

the manorL. It was clear that I would need to establish a base to interview, review

evidence etc. o I went to see the head butler Kr ilsonL he told me I could use the

library.

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