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The Chance of a Lifetime

By Nick, 13, Malta

The sky was blue, the birds were chirping, the trees where swaying with the calm light wind.

There were three boys Rick, Darren and Ryan. Ryan had blond hair and green like eyes. Darren had ocean blue eyes yet another blond with spiked up hair. Rick (that’s me in the story) with jet black hair and brown eyes. All of them had pretty much a normal size (height and body weight). Rick was 18 year-old patient and sort of serious but sensitive and caring person. Darren who was 18 as well was the humiliator and joker of the group. Whilst Ryan 19 years old is an over-all good guy.

We all thought that it would be a normal day. So I decided to go on a road trip. I called my friends Darren and Ryan. We all agreed to meet at a motel on the out skirts or town. When we met it was 2pm. We had time on our side. It was a nice drive a bright afternoon sun shining and a nice cool breeze, with that I thought that it will be a good day. When I was nearing the motel I saw a couple of cars. There and then I knew that it was Darren and Ryan so then I parked my car next to theirs. Darren greeted me by saying, “Hey there Rick, you ok?!” then I replied, “Yeah…. What about you and Ryan?” then Ryan came up and answered, “I’m ok”. We all went in Ryan’s car but I was driving it.

Then when we left Darren noticed the drinks and asked Ryan, “Dood we aren’t going to stay forever you know”. Ryan replied annoyed and frustrated, “You never know when you are going to need a drink”! After that Ryan stayed quiet….. It was taking too long so Ryan was getting impatient and wanted to find the way home. Then he asked me impatiently, “why is this taking so long”?

Then I answered in a clamming voice, “I have been trying for like fifteen minutes”.

Darren spotted a stationary car on the side of the road and told me to stop. We went to it and checked it out. There was a lot of money and so much precious stuff it seemed that we will be rich. There was stuff like 18 carat gold, titanium, platinum and silver. We all thought either this guy is rich or he found it just like we did. So we split it into three shares. We wouldn’t return the stuff this was a chance of a life time!

So we just managed to make it home.

………..Three weeks later…….

We met again. Darren was the first to notice and greeted me and Ryan. “Hi doods. How have you been?” whilst cracking a smile.

Ryan and I replied “Ok and you?”. With a joy-filled look Darren answered: "Fine, been living like a king."

"What shall we do to day?" we all said.

“Another road trip”? I asked in an excited voice ...

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Judgement Day

By Steven, 10, Ilford, UK

A streak of lightning thundered across the dark, dank, gloomy sky. I was standing alone at the bus stop weary from the days events, but at this point I had no idea of what was coming. I scold myself these days for being so foolish and not noticing until later, one important thing - the destruction of the earth had almost arrived. Judgement day was nearly upon us, the end was near……
The next day I got up and felt around for my pants for 20 minutes then I remembered that they were in the wash. I got up and my mum burst through the room "Did you hear the news?!!" panted mum out of breath. Then I heard it "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The school bus will be 2 minutes late" I yelled. "No you moron listen to the radio, there has been a tsunami in Sweden, an earthquake in Indonesia and a tornado in Tibet!" announced mum. Were these just coincidences or was there something terrible, horrible and disastrous running around the world?
School was as boring as ever I was held in for running in the halls and it was 2:15 when a meteorite hit the school and everyone except me who was stealing pens and test answers from under the teacher's metal desk was obliterated. Yay I get to leave school early I thought happily. Streaking down the hall, I was like a rabbit on fire even though ironically I had been the only one in school who hadn't burst into flames - but outside I saw a devastation of a lifetime with the running and the screaming. Tsunamis were big, blue showers of death coming as common around the world as icecreams and baths. Was it too late to save the world?
I ran to and fro frantically searching for a place to hide avoiding molten rock and glass. After hours of zig zagging I felt ready to give in and collapse when I heard my mum calling me. Either I was unconscious or dead or this was real. Suddenly the clouds parted, the sun appeared and the day had ended, so had the weather of judgement day.
Along with my mum and the other survivors. I helped rebuild the population and in a few years we were back to normal and definitely free from judgement day for ever or were we?................
(February 2005)

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Mr. Unsmiley

By Xavier, 11, Ohio, USA

"Oh great," Muttered Ryan darkly, "He is back." There it was. The giant lizard creature. He was quite fed up with this. He leaped across the gap in the room and landed on his knees.
"Ouch!" Screamed Ryan, rubbing his knees. "Ryan! What a surprise!" Cried out a voice. It was Karen. Ryan had known Karen for about seven years now. At the age of 15, she looked different. "Karen?! Is that really you?" Ryan asked, looking stunned. She looked great, she was wearing blue sandals and a pink and white shorts.
"Yeah silly it's me!" She giggled. Karen still had her a little giggle. She'd always chuckle a lot.
"I'm glad to see you!" Exclaimed Karen.
"I'm glad to see- His words were cut short from the growl of the lizard. "Does it ever end?" He asked snickering. "What is that?" Karen asked somewhat scared. "He is called Dome Lizard. He's from a continent known as Isle Sea.
"Isle Sea? I know that place! You and I grew up there, remember?" Remarked Karen. "We did?" He asked.
Ryan's memory was horrible. It didn't matter what he did, he could never improve it. Karen looked almost stunned at him, but she shrugged and scratched her head. "You don't remember?" She asked, slightly laughing.
"Enough of your idle chat Ryan! I demand a battle right now!" Bellowed Dome Lizard, beating his chest and roaring. "Get a grip you! You act like some little kid!" Screamed Karen, pointing her finger at Dome Lizard. Dome Lizard grinned and picked her up. "Little ant? LITTLE ANT? A little ant wants to call me names?" Asked Dome Lizard, his hot breath almost making Karen sweat.
"Hey! Put her down!" Yelled Ryan, pointing his tiny finger at Dome Lizard. "Ha ha! Another wishes to challenge me? Be gone foolish one!" Screamed Dome Lizard. A huge blinding light came up around Ryan and he dissapered. "What did you do to him?" She asked nearly crying. "He is dead! HA HA HA!" Chuckled Dome Lizard. Karen couldn't controll it. Tears flowed like cars down her cheeks. She loved Ryan. Karen just couldn't give him up!

"Now now… Don't cry little ant! You don't need your friend! I'll teach you the ways of the lizard!" Said Dome Lizard. "The ways of the lizard?" She asked sobbing. "No! I'll just eat you!" Bellowed and laughed Dome Lizard. "NO!" She screamed, her voice was so loud and ear shattering, Dome Lizard cracked into pieces, just like glass. She dropped down to the platform. Suddenly, the room cracked and fell to pieces. She was in a forest now. And behind a tree was Ryan. They ran up to each other and kissed.

Genere: Short Story
Reason for writing: Too much spare time.
(February 2005)

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The sun and the moon

By Elizabeth, 7, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

There was a sun and a moon who loved to play with each other. One day the moon got so tired and went to bed for a long time. The sun was sad. Then the sun got an idea. The idea was that the moon could sleep for the day and play at night. IT WORKED! THE END!!!!! (February 2005)

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Teenage Tanya: Care for a home!

By Amy, 10, West Sussex, UK

Have you ever looked out of the misty window on a rainy day? Have you seen all the raindrops chasing each other? Sometimes one looks lost like it's alone in the world with no one to turn to or look up to. Imagine that raindrop was you…

I know that raindrop could be me. My mum abandoned me as soon as I was born, and as for my dad, I wouldn't recognise him if he leapt out in front of me. I have been in care all my life. My name's Tanya and I am 14. I sat on my hard uncomfortable bed and sobbed. I looked around at my four walls and then closed my eyes. I wished I lived with my mum in a cosy house, with my own room. I could have my walls painted all colourful and warm - with a TV, some videos, my own computer, a book shelf, my music blaring out of a new, silver CD player, with stacks of CDs - and a photo of me with my mum. And then I opened my eyes and looked around at my blank, cream walls. I wiped my tears away and hugged my teddy. I looked at what it said. The cuddly bear, all chubby and fluffy, was holding a heart. In the heart was swirly writing that read, "I love you". My great grandma had got it for me when I was born, but then she died from a stroke. I still go and visit her grave every Sunday afternoon. The only person that had really loved me had died, and now I have no one. So you could say my life was a lot like the raindrop.

I don't even have any friends; well I suppose there is Chelsea, but she is only 7. She is Chinese and always has her hair plaited with colourful beads at the ends. She is a big football fan and always wears football shirts. Her dad lives back in China. Her mum is poor and lives in a small flat round the corner. It is cold and poky. Chelsea goes and visits her at weekends and they watch the football together. Chelsea always tells me about it, how her favourite players scored a goal. Of course, because her name is Chelsea she supports…Chelsea! Her mum says she dosen't want Chelsea living at her flat because it's so small. But surely anywhere is better than being in care.

"Oi!" came a voice. It sounded like Pam - and believe it or not Pam burst in. "Your tea will be getting cold." She looked round and walked out slamming the door behind her. Pam was my care worker. I didn't like her much, she always smelled of smoke. Pam was very bad tempered but in her own sort of way she was nice. She never admitted it though. She wanted people to think she was horrible. Like last year she got me a birthday present but pretended it was from Chelsea. But I can't read Chelsea's writing and I recognised hers. Plus I recognised the chocolates she got me. I had seen her eating the same make of chocolate before. I could hear Pam shouting at me again. So I decided to go downstairs.

As I was running down the stairs I bumped into Tash, the moodiest girl I knew. She tripped and chipped a nail. "You idiot! Look at my nails. I spent hours doing them," she said.

"Why aren't you at the table? Are the other kids refusing to eat while they can see your ugly face?" I muttered.

"If you don't shut your big fat gob I will be pushing you down those stairs," she shouted.

When I got into the dining room Chelsea was saving me a seat. I went and sat down next to her. The dining room was very colourful; each wall was painted a different colour. There were twelve people in care, so a big pine table filled the room. There was a kitchen area that was a complete mess. Trent could cook but he couldn't clean. Trent was like the handyman. I really liked him because he always looked on the bright side. He always told me I wouldn't be in care forever. He gave me lots of tips because he too had been in care.

At the end of tea, I got down from the table and went upstairs, Chelsea trailing along behind.

"Hey what do you want to do?"

"I don't know", I muttered.

"Can we talk?" I said to Chelsea.

"Sure," Chelsea said, looking puzzled.

I went over and sat on my hard bed. "Do you want to be in care?" I asked.

"Of course not," said an astonished Chelsea.

"Well why don't we run away? We could have a great time." I was shouting with excitement.

"But where will we go? What will we eat? What about my mum?" she said sounding very worried. A silence fell. "Hey, can I take my football with me? Oh it will be great! Let's dress up in disguise, and away we go." She was shouting with excitement now. I whispered to myself: You can do it…you can do it…

We decided we would leave late at night. I knew where the spare key was, so we could open the front door and be out of there. So at 11.45, when all the lights went out, Chelsea sneaked into my room with her bright torch and whispered, "I've got some old clothes and a head scarf. What have you got?" I showed her my white wig and leather coat. We both sniggered. "You can't take your ball with you. Leave it here. I'm sure my bear will look after it," I whispered. I took one last glimpse of my teddy and walked out.

We ran down the stairs. I heard a noise. Pam was still up! She was in the living room watching TV. It was some comedy and she was laughing loudly. I crept over to the table and there were the silver jingly keys under the heavy terracotta plant pot. As I lifted the pot the keys made a tingling sound. Pam looked round and switched the TV off. Chelsea went into the living room to distract her whilst I unlocked the door.

"Pam, er, I can't seem to get to sleep," lied Chelsea. "What was that you were watching?" Chelsea said.

"Oh just some late-night garbage," Pam muttered.

I signalled to Chelsea.

"Look, you'd better be getting back to bed. Chop-chop!" ordered Pam. "And close the door behind you," she shouted.

When we had both got out of the front door I closed it as quietly as I could. "Cor, that was a close one," I said. "Yeah, now we need to dress up in disguise and run for it!" Chelsea said. I got our clothes out of my carrier bag and quickly got changed. When Chelsea was ready we ran along the pebbly path and out of the gate. We saw some dodgy-looking teenagers standing outside. In one hand they were holding a can of beer and a fag in the other hand.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, a tremble in my voice.

"You two ugly little girls. You look like you are playing dressing up, and at this time of night. Does mumsy-wumsy know about this?" said one of the boys.

"Is mumsy-wumsy wanting you to go to bed?" asked the other boy.

"I haven't got a mum - that is the problem," I said, a tear coming into my eye. Although the boys were trying to look tough, they blushed and walked away.

We ran and ran, puffing and panting. My wig was itching and Chelsea's headscarf was slipping down her head. Sometimes I overtook Chelsea, but she soon caught up! After we had run for what seemed like hours, we stopped. "I've got a stitch," Chelsea whined. It was pitch black; the torch was our only light. I looked at my watch. It was nearly 1 o'clock. I looked round. We were in a road with green bushes and semi-detached houses.

"Keep running and we will get a bit further. Remember, the further we run the better it is," I chanted. So reluctantly Chelsea kept running. We were sprinting, jogging, leaping like cheetahs. Suddenly it started to rain. We carried on jogging as it was only spitting, but the rain got heavier and heavier until it was pouring. The rain, hard on my jacket, was hateful and piercing. We sheltered under a tree, until it eased off a bit. By this time Chelsea was in so much pain with her stitch she was crying. A bus stop came in sight. We decided to kip there until the morning and then we would make a move.

So we crossed the quiet road and sheltered under the bus stop. There was chewing gum stuck on the floor. The bus shelter looked old but it was better than nothing. We sat down in the corner and laid my leather jacket over us. Chelsea was sniffing and I was shivering but I had no regrets.

"I miss my mum a bit, but I will be OK," Chelsea said.

"You will have to look up to me as a mum from now on," I said hugging her. "Hey I didn't bring this carrier bag for nothing. I have got some emergency things, so we don't die," I whispered.

"Like what?" Chelsea questioned. I unwrapped my carrier bag. "I have got a bottle of water, some smarties, a purse with £122.94 that I have been saving, some emergency chocolate bars and my mobile phone. So you can call your mum tomorrow," I said trying to comfort her.

"Oh thanks Tanya you are a real…mum!" Chelsea joked. I rubbed my hands together to try to get them warm. "This is like a sleepover…without a midnight feast," I moaned.

"I'm tired," Chelsea yawned. "Me too," I yawned. "Come on, let's go to sleep," I said.

"Cor you really are a mum aren't you?" said Chelsea cheekily. And with that she turned over and closed her eyes. I listened to the rain pitter-patter on the top of the bus shelter for a bit and then went to sleep myself.

In the morning I was greeted by an old lady standing over me. For a second I wondered where I was, but then I realised. "Oh, dear, I need to catch my bus. Can I sit down?" the old lady said. "What are you doing out here? Do your parents know about this?" she asked.

"Look, I am 14, I can look after myself, and I can look after Chelsea," I shouted.

"Well! I am going to go and wait for my bus somewhere else," the old lady muttered. I looked down at Chelsea. "Chelsea, Chelsea, CHELSEA!" I said shaking her. "AHHHHH!" Chelsea shouted. "Where am I? Is that you Mum? Where's my football?" she screamed. Then she realised where she was. "Look I have got an idea…instead of us running, why don't we catch the bus to London?" I said enthusiastically.

"Well yeah, but it will cost a lot of money," Chelsea moaned. "Well, I have got lots of money - and we could always go begging," I said. "I'm thirsty and I need the loo," Chelsea whispered. "Anything else wrong?" I questioned. "Erm, is there a spare chocolate bar going?" I threw her a Kit Kat, got the bottle of water out of my bag and pointed to the bush. "Oh, do I have to go in the bush?" Chelsea whined. "Well, unless you can see anywhere else you can go," I snapped. I got my phone out. "If you want to call your mum, you know where the phone is." "Oh cheers Tanya," Chelsea said.

Although I didn't know it at the time, back in care everyone was about to get a shock. "Trent, go and get Tanya up will you, I know it's half term but it's nearly 11.30. It will be time for lunch soon," Pam shouted. "OK Pam," Trent answered, making a funny face. He knocked on my door. "Tanya can I come in?" he asked and then quietly opened the door. All he saw was a pulled-back blue and white duvet, Chelsea's ball and my teddy. Trent thought I would be in the bathroom so he went and knocked on the bathroom door. "Tanya, are you in there?" Trent questioned. "TRENT! You nearly smudged my eye shadow then," replied Tash. "Oh sorry, thought you might be Tanya," he muttered.

Out of all the people in care Trent knows me the best, so he knew I had done a runner. "Pam, got to nip out, be back in ten," he stated. He ran out, slamming the door behind him. He got in his blue, shiny car and swiftly drove out of sight until he got to a sign saying 'Graveyard 100 yds'. He kept driving until he got to the entrance. Trent walked up the path until he got to a grave. Not any grave -my great grandma's grave. Trent was surprised that I wasn't there. He started to get worried. The grave was heaped with lilies. My great grandma loved lilies; she loved the smell and the fresh colours. I got her some and gave her them every Sunday. I didn't have to buy them because Terry at the florist down the road let me have them free. The rusty plaque on the grave read 'Dorothy Heartbor 1924-1999'.

"Hiah," came a voice. "I'm Jen," she said. "Are you the man from that care place?" "Yeah, I'm Trent," he mumbled. "Why are you here? Has someone died?" Jen asked softly. And before Trent could answer she said, "My boy died a few years ago; he didn't even live for his first birthday. I loved him so much, he was my life. I suppose it would be good to adopt…". "Well you could fill out a form. We've got boxes full of them back at the care home," said Trent. "Well I will pop by later and get one," said Jen. "Bye," she said and walked away. Trent got out his phone and rang the care home. Pam answered. "Hallo!" she shouted down the phone. "Hi it's me Trent, is Tanya there?" he asked. "No, neither is Chelsea," she said. "I think they must have run away," said Trent, "Tell June to look after the kids. I want you to come with me to look for them. We will go up to London. Meet you at the graveyard in ten minutes," he said and put the phone down. When they met, they went driving speedily off, heading for London.

Meanwhile, we had just caught the bus. We were on our way to London. Chelsea was tucking into her third Kit Kat by this time. She had called her mum. She didn't tell her where she was because she was sure she would have rung up care - not because she wanted to get Chelsea into trouble but because she cared for her and loved her. The bus stopped and the old lady, along with some other people, got off. Suddenly, coming up behind the bus was a blue, shiny, gleaming car. Inside were Trent and Pam. "Look we have got to run," I shouted anxiously to a tired Chelsea and I pulled her out of the bus. By this time Chelsea was choking on her Kit Kat. When she realised what was happening she dropped the nibbled chocolate and ran. We ran and ran. Sprinted and sprinted. Leaped and leaped. Pam and Trent parked the car and came running after us panting and puffing. We stopped and looked behind us. I screamed. Chelsea screamed. We both screamed.

Lying on the pavement was an injured Pam. She had slipped over, banged her head and blood was everywhere. We had a choice. Go over and help her…maybe even save her life, or keep on running. Trent caught up with us and shouted, "HELP! Please, Chelsea, Tanya. I will talk to you later. But now we need to ring the ambulance." I reached into the bag for my mobile…

Pam was rushed to hospital; later came the bad news. "We did the best we could but…but…but…I'm afraid she passed away in her sleep," said the nurse.

* * *

The good news is that Jen filled out the form and is going to adopt me. At last I will have my cosy bedroom. Plus Chelsea's mum is the new care worker and is no longer poor. So you might think things have ended happily ever after. Well not quite. Pam is dead. And it's only now I realise how thoughtless it is to run away. It only ends in tears.

At the moment I am travelling home from the funeral, looking out of the window with the raindrops chasing each other. I will have a picture of Pam in my head forever. I am hugging my bear that says 'I love you'. And now I really do have someone who loves me.

THE END
(February 2005)

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We Have Puppies

By Kathy, 10, Darien, Illinois, USA

One night, my 2 sisters, my brother and I decided to write a story. We range in age from 4 to 10 years old. We each took turns with a paragraph and this is what we came up with. Hope you enjoy it.

We have a dog named Jasmine. Jasmine has a best friend named Alladin. Jasmine and Alladin like to frolic in the yard. They have fun.

We had a wedding for Jasmine and Alladin in our back yard. They are going to have puppies any day now. We are very excited.

When we got home from school we could not find our Mom. Then we looked upstairs and when we opened the bedroom door, we found Mom bent over a basket helping Jasmine with her puppies.

We counted five puppies. There were three boys and two girls. We named them, Patch, Chaplain, Boots, Suzie, and Goldie.

My brother John and I were very excited to have five new puppies. Then we heard Mom talking to Dad and he said, "We can't keep five puppies." Mom said, "how about keeping two, one for each of them?" Dad agreed.

Dad told us we could keep just one puppy each. John knew instantly that he wanted Boots. I began to sob because I didn't know which one to choose. Mom suggested that I choose Goldie because I also have golden hair. That was a good idea. As soon as I picked up Goldie, she licked my cheek and I fell in love!

From then on, John and I had much fun with our new puppies. We still see Patch, Chaplain and Suzie at our friends' houses. (January 2005)

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The big sister project

By Lauren, 12, London, UK

I'm Michaela, I'm about to be stuck with some older girl from the upper site of my school I bet I get some geek, and all the popular girls will get the older popular girls. Oh joy!
Let me explain all new year seven are to be paired with an older girl at this school for the rest of the term. They don't have to hang around you all the time but they ave meetings with you to see how your doing.
'Michalaa Strevens!' Miss Thingy-me-bob called.
It's only my second day at secondary school - I don't know many of the teachers' names yet.
I was led into a room and they gave me a form and pen to fill out. Then I met her. She's called Lucy and she's absolutely AMAZING! She's really popular and pretty and has loads of mates and goes to lots of parties that she says she'll let me tag along with, I mean come on I've struck gold 'ere.
We've actually got a lot in common - she isn't a stuck up popular queen she's really down to earth!
(January 2005)

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Holly and Ivy

By Emily, 11, Berkshire, England

CHAPTER 1: Holly and Ivy

In No 43 Lakemere Road lived a family of five. Seven if you count the two kittens. Peter and Marie Borland were the mum and dad. Hannah the oldest child, was 12, Sam was 7 and Susie was a baby. The two kittens were called Holly and Ivy. Holly was ginger with white stripes and paws. The tip of her tail was also white. She loved mice, food and attention. She always sleeps in the airing cupboard! Ivy looks like her sister except she had white ears. She adored fish, food and like Holly, attention. Her favourite sleeping place is in the sink! When Mrs Borland tries to do the dishes they always get covered in cat hairs! When they’re together they’re always cute, cuddly and full of beans. When they’re not together they are always, and I mean always asleep! Hannah loves them, and so does Sam. Susie isn’t really old enough to like or dislike them. Unlike most cats Holly and Ivy don’t mind being in their cat basket. In fact they love being in it! It’s the new ‘Cat Carrier 2004’. It has a built in food bowl. It has got a compartment for sleeping in and one to peep out of. It has a small litter tray at the back too. The kittens love it.

CHAPTER 2: The Family

Peter is quite tall. He has brown hair, blue eyes and elfish ears. He works in the pet shop just down the road. Marie is also quite tall, but she had blonde hair. She has blue eyes too. She didn’t work full time but when she did she worked as a landscaper. Hannah, as you already know is 12. She has long flowing blonde hair, blue eyes and a passion for makeup. She is very popular with everyone at her school, Kadick Senior School. Her brother was the exact image of his dad. He loved Holly and Ivy; he was the one that named them. They bought the kittens last Christmas, so he gave them a Christmassy name. He goes to Kadick Prep School. Susie has very light brown hair, blue eyes and a piggy nose. She is about to start at the pre-nursery school at Kadick. Her favourite thing was an old stuffed rabbit called Rabbit! They were a happy family.

CHAPTER 3: The tree

It was 14th December and the Borlands were going out to get a Christmas tree. They piled into the car, leaving Holly and Ivy alone. The two little kittens settled down in their favourite sleeping places. The family drove and drove until at last they saw a sign that said
CHRISTMAS TREES
HERE!
ALL DIFFERENT SHAPES AND SIZES
FROM 10TH DECEMBER
“That’s alright then, let’s get one from here. It’s past the 10th of December,” said Peter. “Yippee!” cried the children. They chose a little one each for their room and one big one for the sitting room. The also got some mistletoe, holly and ivy and a big wreath to go over the door. They all got back into the car. It was a bit of a squish with all the Christmas tree. Two little ones in the back, two in the boot and the big one tied to the roof. Susie sat on her mums lap and Sam and Hannah were squished up together. At last they got home. Marie and Peter stood the big tree up in the middle of the sitting room. The children took theirs up to their rooms. (Hannah took Susie’s up for her). Peter and Marie took theirs up later. Hannah put hair bands and bracelets on hers to decorate it. She switched the lights on and it looked very nice. Sam was content with a bit of tinsel and some of his model racing cars. Susie borrowed some of Hannah’s hair bands for hers. Marie and Peter used some of the decorations from the big tree for theirs. “Children,” called Marie, “Come and decorate the tree!” “Coming Mum,” called down Sam, and they all came down, Hannah carrying Susie. Sam stood on a chair and popped the star on the top. Hannah wrapped the lights around and then the whole family started decorating the tree. Holly came down from the airing cupboard. She went to the kitchen to get Ivy. The kittens had only seen a tree once before and that was when they were very little. They scampered around the bottom of the tree and meowed. “It’s alright you two. It’s called a Christmas tree, it won’t hurt you,” said Hannah. After that Holly and Ivy calmed down. They started playing with baubles and ribbons. They soon got bored and tried to climb up the Christmas tree. Ivy soon fell down, but Holly managed to get near the top, but then the prickles started hurting her, so she jumped down. Hannah held Susie up to put the last decoration on the tree and Sam held Holly and Ivy up so they could see. Mr Borland went and switched the lights on and the tree was finished! “Christmas is really here, now we’ve put the tree up!” said Sam. The children put on some Christmas carols and they had lunch listening to them. They went to bed feeling very happy.

CHAPTER 4: The stocking

It was Christmas Eve and everyone was excited. Sam and Hannah put all the presents under the tree, feeling and shaking them to try and find out what was in them. The last present (for Susie) was soft; it felt like a toy of some sort. They had lunch and then they made mince pies and biscuits. At about 3 o’clock Hannah and Sam went over to their friends houses, Sam to his best friend Robin and Hannah to her third best friend Sophie. Sam got back at 5’oclock and Hannah got back at 5:30. Susie had been waiting for them all the time. When they got back they did a puzzle with her. Meanwhile, Holly and Ivy had been upstairs in the playroom, playing with the cable from the television. Downstairs, the children had just finished the puzzle. Then Mrs Borland called down from upstairs “Come and get your stockings. Find a nail on the mantelpiece and hang it up. Make sure you know whose is whose.” Hannah brought all the stockings down. She had one with a snowman on it, Sam had Father Christmas and Susie had a little reindeer. Sam chose a few of the mince pies they had made for Father Christmas, Hannah lit the candles and Susie went outside with her father to sprinkle reindeer food out on the ground. Sam then put a carrot out and Hannah poured a glass of sherry for Father Christmas. “OK Susie, time for bed,” said Mr Borland. He carried a tired Susie up to bed. Half an hour later Sam went up too. Half and hour after that Hannah went up stairs. They all went to sleep very quickly.

* * *

Sam woke up. He knew there was something special about today but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. Hannah came into his room carrying Susie. “Happy Christmas Sam!” she said. That was what it was. It was Christmas! The three children ran downstairs to the fireplace. They took down their stockings and looked inside. Susie got a new puzzle, a doll, a blanket, a hat and scarf and lots more. In Hannah’s stocking there was a watch, a box of hair bands, a pencil case and there was more. When Sam opened his he found some marbles, a set of racing cars and a set of people to go with them. He also found, right at the bottom of his stocking, Holly and Ivy! “What are you doing in there?” he asked. Holly and Ivy had been hearing the noises the night before. They went downstairs to see what was there. They saw these big red things hanging up so they decided to investigate. They crawled inside and they got stuck! The children were surprised. They went and told their parents. They were just as surprised as the children. It was a very funny start to the day!

Please reply! This is a story for my sister, Mog, love Emily
(January 2005)

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The English Project: The Story of One Boy's Adventure That He Happened to Turn In For a Grade

By Taylor, 10, Phoenix, Arizona, USA

It started out as just a plan, a plan to “conquer the world” as Elaine put it, that got us in trouble. All we wanted to do was sneak into the kitchen, put Tabasco sauce on the cake, and get out of there. We only got to the sneak-into-the-kitchen part before we got caught…

“Don’t let the door squeak!” Elaine ordered, pushing me against the wall. “Someone could hear you!”
“Sorry,” I whispered. I slowly closed the door with my right hand, the hand that Elaine wasn’t holding onto with all her might. Which I have to say was weird, even though we’re best friends, but, I mean, she’s a girl, I’m a boy, get my drift? It was just… freaky.
Anyway, as I closed the door, I guess I should have let the door close quickly, because, guess what? It squeaked. Elaine looked at me, her eyes a cold pit of madness. “Mike! Didn’t I tell you not to let it squeak?”
I shrugged. It wasn’t like anyone was there to hear it, anyway. Or, so I thought. I turned around to grab the Tabasco sauce out of my knapsack, only to find myself face-to-face with Mrs. Baxter! She didn’t look happy, her wrinkles like deep cracks in the wall of rubber. They really looked like that, with the wrinkles dabbing every now and then and the brown eyes of hers planted in the middle of the sections of… dare I say it… moles. Okay, they’re just freckles, but they were dark enough and big enough to look like moles. In fact, when I first met her, I really thought they were moles!
(Okay, that was totally off topic, sorry Miss Raymond. And please don’t tell Mrs. Baxter I said that about her freckles.)
“What are you doing here, Mike? Elaine?” Mrs. Baxter snarled. “And with Tabasco sauce?”
“Uh… um… well,” I stuttered. I’m really not good at lying. I’m almost as bad at it as I am at telling the truth. That’s why I usually just shut up. “Well… I… uh…”
“We were just in here to… uh… spice up my lunch. I left it here with the lunch ladies to refrigerate it. I… uh… brought the rest of my burrito from last night’s dinner. It needs a little… spicing up,” Elaine said. I looked at her, surprised at her for lying, because she usually is so truthful. She stomped on my foot with the heel of her sneaker.
“Oh, really?” Mrs. Baxter asked. I could tell she wasn’t buying it. “So, Mike, are you here to hold the burrito when Elaine puts on the spicy sauce?”
I gulped. Looking at Elaine, she was nodding her head behind Mrs. Baxter’s back. So, I shook my head. I don’t know why, but I got the instinct that Elaine wanted me to do the opposite of what she was doing. I found out that I was wrong about two seconds later, when Elaine slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.
“So why are you here?” inquired the teacher.
I don’t know what came over me, but I just told the truth. “Well, we wanted to… or Elaine wanted us to… come here, put Tabasco sauce on the cake that Mrs. Kink was going to serve to the District Office people so that we could get the lunch ladies fired. She says… Elaine, I mean… says that the lunch ladies aren’t fair, that they don’t give us equal portions. So, we came in here, but you caught us. So, now do I get a detention? I mean, do we get a detention?”
Mrs. Baxter thought this over. Elaine shook her head and rolled her eyes. Finally, Mrs. Baxter spoke. “You don’t, but Elaine, here, does. You have to go see Mr. Powel, the counselor. It seems to me that you have some issues with speaking up. I ask you, Mike, did you want to come do this?”
I shook my head, telling the truth for the second time in one day: a new record. “Not really. No.”
“Well, scoot yourself down to Mr. Powel’s office,” Mrs. Baxter ordered. “Elaine and I have some issues to talk about.”
I did as I was told, and scuttled down to Mr. Powel’s office. Now, I can’t tell you what happened to Elaine besides that she got three detentions: a lunch and two after school’s. I can tell you what happened to me, though.
When I got to Mr. Powel’s he saw me right away. We played Mr. Sock for a while, where I had to talk to Mr. Powel’s sock puppet. I said this to Mr. Sock: “I wonder what’s going to happen to Elaine. I think I should have gone to detention, too.”
Then I actually talked to Mr. Powel. Well, really, he did most of the talking. He said that I need to stop walking in the shadows of Elaine, and I need to stop. I said I would, but guess what: I won’t.

There you go, Miss Raymond. My English project. I hope you like it. I’m sorry it’s not as good as you’d like it to be, but I’ve passed the 500 word minimum. I counted them and I have 872 words in this. Hope it suits you.
(January 2005)

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The ghost ship

By Sam, 10, Kendal, Cumbria, England

The paddle-tug made its way slowly down the river. In the background, the sun was setting, in the mist over the water, suddenly a view of another ship was just below the horizon, the paddle-tug’s crew were a bit anxious so they ordered the seamen to shovel a bit more coal into the fires to make the boat go a bit faster.
But the more they shovelled and the faster the paddles turned they could not get away from the other ship, which was catching up with them, the captain squinted through his telescope, and turned to the other officer, puzzled.
“That’s very odd,” he said, "their men are loading up the canons with cannonballs. Crew, load our gunmen up with ammunition and stand them on the sides of the boat, ready to fire at the other ship!” bellowed the captain.
The crew ran to the guns at once. Everyone was so busy getting ready for battle, that nobody noticed the wreck sticking out of the water in the deepest part of the river.
Too late, the watchmen screamed out “ Wreck ahead! Wreck ahead!!” but too late there was a huge crash, and nothing could be heard, except from one thing screaming of men saying “That ship is coming towards us!”
Then there was a very spooky sound… 5 seconds later the big ship was gone… all hands were lost. To this very day, the old men smoking their pipes in the alehouses by the river say there was no big ship chasing the paddle-tug. They tell stories of a ghost ship that comes out of the mist as the sun goes down, scaring other vessels. But there is nothing there. It’s a trick of the light. People should know better. And the old men smoking their pipes disappeared into the night.

This is a story based on a painting called The Fighting Temeraire, tugged to her last birth to be broken up, by J.M.W Turner.

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"Me, I'm fine"

By James, 11, Guildford, UK

People give me pretty bundles of flowers, people weep when they see me, my parents break into sobs. I go to school every day but everybody ignores me, nobody cares, the teacher never talks to me or marks my work. I have a best friend at school and he has light blonde hair, spiking up. He wears blue denim jeans that are a little scruffy. He always wears a smile, apart from now. We no longer talk to each other. Instead he looks at the floor and kicks small stones.
Even on beautiful sunny days, where the sky is a light blue and there is no wind. I can never play frisbee or catch. I must stay near a lamppost in the street next to my house.
I wait for the move. My room is disassembled. If you ask if I am fine I will say yes, apart from the fact I am




Dead.
(January 2005)

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Something True

By Sian, 11, Croydon, Surrey, England

It was a warm day. A rose-scented breeze pushed and pulled at the branches of the cherry tree, sending pink and white blossoms snowing down on me. Their smell was sweet and soft.
I had my back to the tree. The cherry tree. It was full of pink flowers, wach petal a heart, and a birds nest, woven together by the loving beaks of two nightingales.
That was earlier in the year. Now, three white, tiny eggs, speckled with blue, were nestled in a bed of swan feathers.
The snowy white feathers, not the nightingales own, came from the swans that lived beside the pond. It was a sheet of blue, clear glass. The rosey breeze did not come down from the branches and splash about, sending waves into the bull rushes.
The swaying bull rushes whispered to the swans who nested there. Many a time I had searched for the swans nest, and many a time all I had found were broken egg shells. The wind that let the rushes whisper now sped away, tickling the pointed aspen trees that stood so stiffly, like men saluting to a seargent. It whirled away, dancing over the moss-green hills, and the one golden-brown hill. That one was covered in grain, and as it was harvest time, the crops that had been green when the nightingales built their nest was gold now.
I stood up. I could not stay beneath the cherry tree forever. My orange dress, made of silk, would not keep me warm, and the sun, great ball of gold that the golds had crafted, was already beginning to set behind the golden hill. I started walking down-or UP-the dirt path. I say up because it wove its way up the hill on which my parents castle stood.
The castle was built of red stone, and now the setting sun, like a paintbrush wielded by the gods, turned them into gold. From each of the turrets my family's - and country's - flag flew. A white swan on dark blue. I had always thought the swan on the flag should have been a hawk, or kestrel, both mighty birds. Or if my ancestors wanted looks, why didn't they choose the peacock? Why a bird, anyway?
As I apprached the wall of red brick, the guards lowered the drawbridge. I waved to them. Some of them waved back.
Inside, I slowly crept up the staircase. The main one, that is. There are so many that I get lost from time to time, and I was born and raised here. The wooden banister was covered with gold leaf, and a red velvet carpet covered the stairs. Here and there the staircase split off somewhere else. I took the third branch off on my left. The carpet changed from red to blue, sea-blue, embroidered with silver stars.
I stopped outside my door. It’s a blue door. Light blue. My name is painted on it in curly handwriting in gold. The door knob is solid silver, with a tiny lock.
I went inside.
The wall paper is that of a forest. Tree trunks, and leaves and flowers. Some squirrels, deer, a tiger here and there. (This was Aglair, not Europe.) My four poster bed, with velvet drapings, green ones, covered in gold thread images of stars and unicorns.
I left my tiara on the dressing table. I didn't like it. It was heavy and gold, over covered with rubies and diamonds and emerelds. It looked awful. I just changed quickly into my leaf-patterned silk pjs and jumped into bed.
Right on cue, one of the servants, Anna I think, brought in a cup of hot chocolate. Perfect.
I thanked her and went to bed.
(January 2005)

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Hubble Bubble

By Sian, 11, Croydon, Surrey, England

It was raining. Typical English weather. The clouds had literally split open, pouring drops of cold, wet water onto the innocent earth, soaking the humans that were foolish enough to be out.
A figure was still outside in Warlingham. Wearing a long, black coat covered with pockets, and a black hat with a white feather covering the persons face, the human being was leaning against the window of the chippy.
The person opened the door of the chippy. A bell tinkled above her head, and a wave of scents greeted her. Vinegar, salt, chips, sausages, sweat, and dog. The last was explained when a soaking wet terrier bounded up to her and began nibbling her coat.
The figure glared at the curly-haired dog. Her beautiful face became ugly for a moment. Her baby-blue eyes flashed fire. She flicked her fingers at him and whispered something.
The man-behind-the-counter came to his counter at last, cutting the spell in half. The woman looked up at him. His kindly face was covered with sweat, and his brown hair was greasy. She didn't want to think about what exactly his hands had been touching. A yellow fish smiled at her from his apron, where it was lying beside a plate of chips.
She walked out.
Pulling up her collar, she faced the rain. She had called it down, and now she began to wish she hadn't. She walked down the road until she came to a row of houses beside an antique shop.
She went in. The man at the counter had been polishing a statue of a woman sitting on a rock, with long blonde hair, singing. When she looked closer, she saw the woman was a mermaid.
The little man at the counter jumped in surprise when the bronze bell above the door rang. He jumped higher when he saw his custemer. His glasses fell down his nose, and he pushed them back up.
He was very short, and wore a worried expression. His hair was mostly gone, except for a bit at the sides. That that was left was a mousy brown. He was wearing old fashoned clothes, out of style.
She walked up to him and pulled off her coat. He hung it up at a coat-hanger behind his desk. He knew the drill. He pulled out a box from behind the counter, and took a package wrapped in brown paper out, tied with string. He handed it to her.
She smiled, thanked him, and walked out of the shop, where it had stopped raining.

Down the street, where no one could see her, she pulled out her broom. It was made of ash wood, with Rianna Broom written in gold on it. Gold twine tied the bristles to the broom.
She flew it, dangling her package off the end of it until she landed. She actually landed at a large house, complete with stables and large garage. Three black horses grazed in the field. A black Jaguar was parked in the garage.
Inside the house, it was an obvious evil person. Statues of naked people, and ugly, contorted things lined the walls, along with pictures of people suffering.
In a dark room, a black cauldron bubbled with a foul smelling black, sticky, liquid. She opened the package and dropped the mandrake inside into it.
The potion exploded. Green fire burst from it and killed her. It killed the whole world.
That's how evil she was.
Beauty doesn't count. You have to be good, not pretty.
(January 2005)

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The Magic Tree

By Mackenzie, 7, Reno, NV, USA

Once upon a time a family climbed a mountain looking for a Christmas tree. When they found a small pinon pine tree, they quickly chopped it down. The tree complained, "Ow, that hurt!"
As the frightened parents ran back to the truck, the daughter named Mackenzie said, "Hello."
Then she carefully carried the tree to the truck. The parents did not notice that Mackenzie had put the tree in the back of the truck, so they drove home. When they got home and the parents saw the tree, they screamed.
When they stopped, they put colorful ornaments on the tree. Then they said, "You are beautiful, little Christmas tree."
"Thank you," replied the little Christmas tree.
On Christmas Eve Santa Claus left Mackenzie's family joyful presents, and, surprisingly, Santa left a gift for the Christmas tree! The Christmas tree carefully unwrapped the gift. It was a golden star. Mackenzie's family never had to chop down a tree again, because the star made the tree last forever.
(January 2005)

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Chloe and the Mermaid

By Stella, 9, Leicester, UK

There once lived a mermaid named Abigail who was very lonely.

All day long, she sat on a rock combing her long, silky hair and singing to herself. Sometimes she would flick her beautiful, turquoise, fishtail in the water and watch the ripples spreading far out to the sea.

Abigail had not always been lonely. In fact, she used to have a pair of playmates called Dolphin and Octopus.

Octopus had gone off to another part of the ocean to work for the sea king. He was always in demand because he could do eight jobs at once, one with each arm. Dolphin, meanwhile, had gone away to teach singing to a school of dolphins.

Abigail once thought she heard Dolphin’s lovely song far away across the ocean and she hoped, in vain, that she might come back and play.

One day Abigail was sitting on her favourite rock, as usual.

“How lonely I am,” she sighed to her reflection as she combed her hair and gazed at herself in the mirror.

To her astonishment, her reflection seemed to answer back.

“Don’t be lonely,” said a voice. “Come and play with me.”

Abigail couldn’t understand it at all. She peered into the mirror and then she saw beyond her own reflection, another mermaid.

She dropped her mirror and her comb and spun around.

Abigail was puzzled by the sight in front of her, for there, sitting on next rock was another mermaid and yet she didn’t look like a mermaid in many ways. She had short, dark, curly hair and wore a strange costume that definitely wasn’t made out of seaweed.

When Abigail looked down to where the other mermaid’s fishtail, she wanted to burst out laughing, for, instead of a beautiful tail, the other mermaid had two strange limbs like an extra pair of arms, stretching down.
The other ‘mermaid’ who was really a little girl called Chloe was equally amazed at the sight of Abigail. She had seen pictures of mermaids in books before but now she couldn’t quite believe her eyes for here on the next rock beside her was a real live mermaid.

For a moment they were both too astonished to speak. Then they both said at once, “Who are you?”

“I am Abigail,” said Abigail.

“I am Chloe,” said Chloe. “Let’s go for a swim.”

Soon the two of them were in the water chasing each other and giggling.

“Let’s play tag along the beach,” suggested Chloe and she started swimming towards the shore. She had quite forgotten that Abigail would not be able to run around on dry land.

Abigail followed though she was rather afraid, as her mother had always told her not to go near the shore in case she got stranded.

Chloe ran out of the sea onto the beach.

“Wait for me!” called Abigail, struggling in the water as her tail thrashed about. Then, to her astonishment, something happened. She found she could leave the water with ease and, looking down, she saw that her tail had disappeared and that in its place, were two of those strange long arm things like Chloe’s.

“What’s happened?” she wailed.

Chloe looked around.

“You’ve grown legs!” she shouted in amazement. “Now we can play tag!”

Abigail found that she rather liked having legs. She tried jumping in the air and Chloe taught her to hop and skip.

“You can come and stay at my house but first I must find you some clothes,” said Chloe, looking at Abigail who was wearing nothing but her long, yellow hair. “Wait for me here.”

Chloe ran off and came back with a T-shirt and some shorts and Abigail put them on.

The two girls ran back to Chloe’s house together.

“This is my best friend Abigail,” said Chloe to her mother. “Can she stay for tea?”

“Why, of course,” said Chloe’s mother.

“What’s that strange thing?” whispered Abigail.

“It’s a chair,” Chloe said and she showed Abigail how to sit on the chair.

All through teatime, Abigail watched Chloe to see how she should eat from a plate and drink from a cup and saucer. She had never tasted food like this before. How she wished she could have chocolate cake at her home in the sea!

After tea, Abigail said, “Now I will show you how to do something.”

Taking Chloe by the hand, she led her down to the beach again. There, they picked up shells and then Abigail showed Chloe how to make a lovely necklace from shells, threaded with seaweed.

While they made their necklaces, Abigail taught Chloe how to sing songs of the sea.

Soon, it was bedtime.

“You can sleep in the spare bed in my room,” said Chloe.

Abigail slipped in between the sheets. How strange it felt! She was used to feeling water all around her and here she was lying in a bed. She tossed and turned, feeling hotter and hotter, and couldn’t sleep at all.

In the middle of the night, she got up and threw open the window to get some fresh air. She could smell the salty sea and she began to feel rather homesick.

Then she heard a familiar sound from far away.

It was Dolphin calling to her! The sound was getting closer and closer until at last Abigail knew what she must do.

She slipped out of the house and ran down to the beach in the moonlight. As soon as her toes touched the water, her toes touched the water, her legs turned back into a tail and she swam out to the sea to join Dolphin.

The next morning, when Chloe woke up, she was upset to find that her friend had gone. When she told her mother who Abigail really was, her mother said, “The sea is a mermaid’s true home.”
(January 2005)

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Hide and Seek (Extract)

By James, 11, Guildford, UK

Thomas Jenkins sat in a black cab, completely exhausted. A long business trip, to him, seemed equal to a marathon. This business trip had definitely been the most tiring.

On the trip he had attended many important meetings. He had to make many long lectures. And whenever he was allowed to take a break and leave to his office, his advisers stuck to him telling him what to say and what to do next. Thomas had never managed to sit down and relax, one meeting finished, another started. Thomas enjoyed being rich, but owning the world's biggest, car company was a tough job.

It was the beginning that he could not get out of his head: It was another beautiful sunny morning. The private cab was quickly parked, then a door swung forward. Thomas, holding a leather suitcase climbed out and strode across the car park, many flowers blossoming around him. He slid his card down the complicated lock and the door clicked open. He pulled the heavy door and hurried inside. Once in his large office he sat down on a black swivel chair. In front of him sat a large computer on a brass table. The first thing to catch his eye was a letter, torn and smudged a little. He picked it up and read it.
"Give us 50% of your profit for the next 2 years or else. We are a terrorist group and if you reply no you will regret it." This confused him. However, he would never agree to this pathetic blackmail. He pulled out a shiny gold pen from his posh suit and wrote "Never" neatly beneath the blackmail. He slid the letter into a mini post box to his left, satisfied with what he had done. That instant a woman in brown, smart uniform peered round the door and called "Mr Jenkins, the first meeting will be held shortly. Please head for the meeting room on the second floor." Then she disappeared down the long corridor.

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The Magic Blind Dog

By Katie, 7, Buckingham, UK

Once upon a time there lived a family of dogs. One of them felt left out because he was blind. He was called Buster. So whenever they played a really fun game he moaned and groaned because he couldn’t join in. But he got quite a lot of attention from his vet and even though he didn’t like going to the vet Buster enjoyed it when she fussed over him. When his family and owners came in they always quizzed “Had he been good?“ She always answered, “Yes”.

One morning Buster saved someone. This is the story of it.

One winter morning Buster was walking along when he noticed a man that looked blind, he thought that he might go and have a chat with him so of he waddled over to him. They had quite a long chat but then Buster had to go home.

At home his mother asked what they were chatting about, Buster said they were chatting about how annoying and how fun it is to be blind.

The next day Buster questioned his mother if he and the other puppies could go back to that street so he could talk to the blind man again, his mother thought that was a great idea so she said “yes of course” so of they sauntered over to the street. At first Buster couldn’t smell the man but then he smelt his after shave. They had a very, very good chat then it was time for him to go home, Buster remembered he hadn’t asked the man his name so he asked it very, very quickly and the man said it was Alfie so Buster barked Alfie good day and ambled home.

At home his mother told Buster how proud she was of him and that one day that he might save a life. So one day just as his mother had told him, he saved Alfie’s life, this is what happened. One day Buster went to see Alfie, when he smelt that Alfie was there it smelt like Alfie was in the road then Buster also smelt a car near his friend so he hurdled out and knocked Alfie safely onto the footpath, “wow thank you Buster” Alfie thanked Buster recognising the smell of beef burgers and had a long chat with Buster until Buster waddled home to his brothers and sisters who didn’t bully him any more when they heard and so Buster got a lot of attention by everyone.

The end (December 2004)

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Cruel Laughter (taster)

By Scott, 12, East Grinstead, West Sussex, England

The heavens opened and lightning cracked through the cold night, illuminating the dark forest ahead of us. It was closely followed by a clap of thunder and rain started plummeting onto the car roof. It dribbled down the window from which I was attempting to peer out. I breathed against it, forming even more condensation, and wrote against it LOST. That had been the only word that my family and I kept coming across this holiday.

“I told you to turn right!” Mum’s voice brought me back to my senses and I found I had landed back on earth at the worst possible moment. Mum and Dad were having a heated argument in the front two seats, whilst my little sister Angela, my friend Andy and I sat miserably in the back waiting for a decision to be made.

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History Rewritten (Aquila and Cottia )

By Helena, 15, USA

The sky was gray, cloaked with a thick mist that seemed to stand waist-high or higher, in some places. The rooftops were barely seen through the soft, dull blanket, and few ventured outside for a moment, even with a mantle.
No one minded; the fire was roaring happily, the entire clan was sitting near it, talking drowsily.
The older men sat on the hearth, compairing stories of old battles, matchless captians, swords that never broke, like the legendary Durendal.
Behind them, the women sat softly on the chairs and the floor, listening dutifully to the tales, though no well-bred woman cared to hear stories of battle.
A little ways from the fire, a chit and a man sat together, talking softly enough for no one but them to hear. There was a strange loook in his eyes, sad and something else, that only came when she turned away to listen to the old men's tales.
When she turned back suddenly, she could see it just a split moment before it faded, and he teased her for looking frightened.
There was something she didn't know, that was sure. Something was ailing him. What if…what if he had to go back to battle…to Charlemagne's men? Then what would she do, if he went on another long crusade and left her here again?
"Aquila," She whispered under the droning of some old ancient.
He leaned toward her, his mouth was jerking up, as if this were a great joke. "Cottia?"
"You will not go on another crusade again…please, you said this was the only one…you came back after five years of waiting. Men have got themselves killed, away from France, away from home. Please don't--"
"There is nothing I can do to stop it." He said quietly, "If they need men, I must go. I am able, I have weapons, there is no need for me to stay."
"But--"
"Can you not be proud of your husband? Sakes, Cottia, you act as if I were going--"
"Roland's crusade." She said quickly, "Charlemagne let the rear guard fall behind, they got ambushed on their way through Sarragossa. Everyone died, even Oliver. What if that happens to you?"
His eyes turned sadder than she'd ever seen, "We cannot stop history, sweet. Whatever happens will happen, whether man attempts to have it done, or not. Roland's tale was a tragic one, aye, but he will be written down by our decendents, they will know him, what he did, how he was a man of honor."
"But you can be written in history without dying. They will not be able to remember every man's name. Please, look at everything, you may have to leave this forever…"
"Cottia, a man will die whether he goes to battle or not. What would be the difference? You--"
"I am betrothed to you. You left me that last crusade, and I was frightened that you would die, in a forsaken land, without kin to care for you. And you would lie in an unmarked grave, unknown among the pagens. I can't see you do this again."
"I am willing."
"But I am not. I will not be widowed when I am a girl, and I will not see you die before we were married. Why must you go, why not someome else?"
He sighed quietly, "Please, Cottia."
Cottia stared at him, he spread his hands. She wished someone else's betrothed were sent away, but knew there was no difference. He would be shamed, if he didn't go, by the other men who were able, and who had been in the last. He would go, even if it costed him her.
"Will you come home?"
Aquila laughed softly, pulled her closer to him in the warmth of the fire. She was so small, even with the thick mantle pulled over her shoulders.
"I shall come home."
"And you won't…"
"No. Only French maids for me, heart."
Only french maids for me, heart.
They made a pretty picture from the window, where light shone warmly into the mist, the old men talked on, the women muttering polite remarks though altogether silly about battle. And Aquila and Cottia sat within the ring of warmth with them, talking, laughing with them, but with the same fear biting them. What if he didn't come back? What if he never saw her again, and he was promising something he couldn't promise?
One glance up at his face, as calm and sure in battle as it was laughing with his kin, and Cottia could see that it was not his judgement that must be questioned. He had gone on the crusades before, and come home to her. And, it if were within his power, he would come home to her again.
Only, only--if she knew he was coming home…it would so much better still her hands.

Cottia, clutching a mantle around her shoulders, stared out over the town, where all the women were gathered around something, and a few small children had wormed their way into the middle.
She stepped out from the house, stopped. Shaking hands smoothed her kirtle, trying with every effort to make them steady. The cold air bit into her face, she brushed aside some hair that was not gathered into its net.
Forcing herself not to run into the crowd, push aside everyone, not to call at the top of her voice.
She had reached the edge of the circle now, her breath was coming short, inevidably, Aquila leapt into her mind, she pushed it back and turned her mind away with some effort.
The few who stood on the edge turned to her, seeing a paled, short chit, clutching a mantle around her shoulders, eyes far too wide to be just normal fright.
Cottia swallowed and reigned her voice in.
"Aquila? Have you heard anything about my husband?"
The runner, a taller man, looked at her awkwardly, and gave a crooked smile. Her heart plunged down, there was a wildness that she tried to keep away. She cleared her throat.
"What have you heard?"
The runner's mouth broke into a wide grin, he said softly, "They're coming home, miss."
After two years, they were coming home. Two years since she had begged him not to go, and he was returning. How was this so?
"Thank you." No one heard, over the cheers of the other children, she felt something flow back into her body as the runner was taken to a house to have food and water before the long way back.
The men were marching home again. They would still be written in history. But none had to die for it to happen, and soon…soon she would be married. Finally. And he would come home, and there would be a fire and the kin waiting for him, so he could come and sit and stay…forever.
(December 2004)

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A Glimmer in My Eye

By Jacquelyn, 13, Lombard, IL, USA

As I walk downtown something - a light - glimmers in my eye shining from the sky.
Ignoring it, I’m too busy to stop, things to buy, people to visit.
I’m in and out of stores,
I notice it once more and overlook it a second time.
Walking past a Santa ringing a bell for change to put in an old red bucket,
I get a glimpse of it another time, getting really annoyed.
Pushing through a busy crowd I go by a homeless man begging for change, seeing it and again it won’t go away.
Rushing by, having no time now, I really must get home.
Scuttling pass the 20-foot Christmas tree noticing it yet again, having enough I set out to see what it is,
Following the beam of light under the Christmas tree, I see a homeless child holding a gold box shining in the light.
As I see how pleased the child is to receive something new,
I realize that’s what was trying to get my attention, the glimmer in my eye, the light of giving
Now I can offer it and spread it too.
Strolling home, I burrow in my purse to put change in Santa’s old red bucket.
(December 2004)

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©2003 Kids on the Net and the authors        Last revised 02-Sep-2004
Kids on the Net: a trAce Online Writing Centre website at The Nottingham Trent University

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