Tales with a Twist: Year 10 Creative Writing
Friday 20 September 2024
In Year 10 English lessons, pupils were tasked with writing a 100-word story, and then expanding it into a longer piece, keeping the same structure. One of the challenges was to have a surprise for the reader at the end.
CHLOE C
Mother Nature is the island's conductor, orchestrating a beautiful tune with the harmonious song of the birds and the gentle hum of the sea. The sounds wandered through the air swaying from ear to ear like the calm ocean waves. The whispers of the wind ushered us towards the island and the boat began to slowly tiptoe onto the shore.
“An island for ourselves!” I said with a smile stretched across my face. I turned to look at Eliza expecting to see the same bright smile however her face was hidden as she stared down at her feet. I just ignored it.
Eagerly, I jumped off the boat. Sun shone down, illuminating the azure sea. The light danced elegantly along the water, painting strokes of white along the blue canvas. With every step I took, silky snakes of sand slithered through my toes gently tickling the bottom of my feet. The golden grains rested along my feet like flour on bread, my sticky sun cream imprisoning each speck. Resting like a king on the shore, our boat guarded the desert island.
Eliza was still sitting in the boat suspiciously looking around.
“Eliza! Everything ok? Don’t you want to come and explore?” I exclaimed.
“Yeah yeah everything’s fine, I’m just feeling a bit seasick so I am gonna wait up here!”
I thought nothing of her comment and began to head towards the forest to collect some logs, exclaiming on the way out “You unload the boat!” All I heard in reply was a faint murmur but I continued onwards, ignoring Eliza’s odd mood.
The refreshing breeze gently nudged the sun's focus away from me, cooling me with its kind presence. I take a deep breath in, the tranquillity of the beach immediately calming me. Stepping on the sand is like walking in the clouds, each step softer than the last.
Entering the forest was like stepping into a new world. Trees towered over me, each one taller than the last. Sneaky beams of sun slipped through the branches, their glow penetrating through the leaves. I soon came across a bundle of branches and once I had collected enough logs I headed back towards the boat. I called Eliza’s name but to my surprise heard no reply. When I returned, Eliza and the boat were gone…
HOLLY S
The Secret
The perfect hideout, hidden away from the apocalyptic war spreading across the dissipating country. A community filled with peace and tranquillity concealed within the arms of willow trees. Flowers laid out beautifully around giant beige shelters, standing elegantly swaying slightly in the warm yet fresh breeze flowing in from the outstretched sapphire ocean.
He saw a snug group of people walking around chatting and laughing quietly, smiles stretched across their faces.
He stepped onto the rich emerald grass, tears pricking his eager eyes in admiration as he smiled. He squinted slightly as the warm sun shone through a slit in the branches of soft pointed leaves.
His mind raced with the idea of living in this lush paradise with his family - saving his beloved mother and brother from the brutal bloodshed unfurling down towards the South. He’d been away searching for weeks and weeks on end trying to find safety. The secret community that had been rumoured across the lands to be a fairytale-like community nourished with liberty and welfare. He had finally found it.
A middle-aged woman with platinum blonde, pin-straight hair strode towards him. She held a bouquet of azure flowers as her long plain dress fluttered in the breeze.
Her bright piercing eyes smiled warmly.
‘Welcome.’ she grinned ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’
‘Wait, what do you mean?’ the young man laughed - confusion flashing across his face.
‘Oh no no. We just saw you on your way here this morning crossing the sea on your boat,’ she mumbled quickly.
‘Oh, I see. Of course. Well this place is beautiful,’ the young man smiled.
‘Yes, it definitely is,’ she said, pausing. ‘But we have one rule. In order to preserve the secrecy of this community. You can not leave or invite anyone - not even family.’
‘Wait! What do you mean I can’t leave? What do you mean I… My mother and brother!’ he outburst.
‘Shhhh, you are now safe. Now you are here, you don't need them. You are our family now,’ the woman hushed. ‘Have fun!’
His eyes darkened as his smile was wiped away.
IHEOMA M
How Much For One?
‘How much for one?’ a gruff voice echoed across the dimly lit alley.
A man dressed in an oversized, grimy, grey sweater came into view. His eyes flickered back and forth before landing on the array of shiny, metallic guns on the ground.
‘You ain’t a snitch, right?’ the man behind the guns said, a menacing expression on his face.
His expression only softened when the man reached into his filthy jumper and pulled out a stack of twenty dollar bills tied with a faded, brown elastic band. The man reached out to grasp the cash when…
‘You're under arrest.’
Drip. Drip. Another droplet of murky, brown water came down the rusted, broken pipe, the sound echoing across the dimly lit alley. Drip. Drip. Rats scuttled across the damp floor, occasionally stopping to sniff at pieces of food that had been dropped, crumbs of bread and half eaten fruit lay rotten and fly-infested on the floor that had seemingly been its home for at least the past week or so.
Just outside of the alleyway, tucked away in the doorway of a shop, a man peered into the alley. His soulless, sunken, grey eyes strained ever so slightly to see what was inside. Not seeing what he was looking for he shuffled closer to the entryway, the soles of his shoes flapping in the wind with each minuscule step that he took. His grimy shoelaces now submerged in the brown water. Just then his expression changed, his dark eyes now held a small glint in them, opening slightly wider; his fingers tingled by his side, as if waiting to grasp at something. He had found what he was looking for.
Quietly he entered the alley, head held low as he made his descent down. The only noise he made was his breath, laboured and uneven and the flap of his practically deconstructed shoe. ‘How much for one?’ his gruff voice boomed across the alley.
"We ain’t selling," another man replied.
The man to whom this voice belonged was sitting on the ground, either not noticing or not caring about the water that crept up his clothes, it had already soaked his trousers and was beginning to make its way up his back. He was dressed in plain clothes, a holey black jumper, and a pair of worn out jeans. The most exciting thing about him was what he had laid out in front of where he was sitting. An array of shiny, metallic guns. Perfectly polished, perfectly positioned.
‘How much for one?,’ the voice boomed again. ‘I ain’t a snitch but I can become one.’
The man sat down sighed, he peered down at the objects, his eyes filled with annoyance then confusion and finally a hint of trust. He pointed to a medium sized one in the middle. ‘Five hundred, I ain’t got all day and I ain’t cheap.’
Drip. Drip. The only noise apart from the deafening silence where two pairs of eyes battled against each other, neither pair showing weakness of threatening to pull away until…8
‘Fine.’ he said before pulling his eyes away to draw out a stack of twenty pound notes.
The seller reached out one dirty hand, his fingernails long and blackened. He was just about to take the money when.
‘You're under arrest.’
GREISI B
Marvellous colours sat on every shelf. I disregarded them as I scanned the cans of spray paint looking for the most desirable one. Too many colours clouded my mind, the chemical-like scent drugging my every thought. Visions of vibrant greens and ruby reds floated around me, yellows and warm oranges swam around my feet. I thought to myself, what would create the most gut-wrenching picture? What would pull the most feelings and ideas from the depth of your mind? I was too intoxicated to choose.
‘Jack, pick,’ I heard a voice shout from behind me but I ignored it due to my already indecisive nature. ‘Jack, come on, quick,’ The voice again, ‘They’re going to come!’
I didn’t care . I needed a colour with a story, a colour with a voice. Maybe it was the colours that were speaking to me. Nevertheless, I kept on going, my eyes climbing up every colour, analysing and searching.
Red.
Black.
Green.
Red. I grabbed the red bottle and ran. Deep crimson paint spilling all over my hands, chilling the veins underneath. Shivers. My hands froze underneath the touch of this red, engulfing me even though it was merely touching my hand and dripping down my fingers. I knew this colour somewhere. Where did I recognise it from?
Before I knew it my legs stopped moving, my heart stopped beating. I just stood there in full fear and nostalgia of this colour. However, to me, it was more than just a colour, more than a feeling. This was my life. It was her favourite colour, the deep red on the silky bow she wore everyday, the unforgettable red she would show me when she would cut her finger, the red crimson that she had named her dog after. That we had named her dog after.
‘COME ON JACK!” Shouted the voice again, except this time I recognised it to be Lila’s. Lila cared about me, she really did. Wanting to help me, she grabbed my hand to try and pull me but it was no use. I fell to my knees, wet concrete hitting them but I probably would even have noticed if it hadn't made a sound. This was too much.
Police were going to reach us but in all honesty I didn’t care. I couldn’t care.
She was my reason for doing this, I could not forget about her. We all couldn't. That's why I had to finish my mural, right by the bridge where the life was taken out of her. That same beautiful red that dripped off the knife, the same red splatters that stood on his black puffer. The same red that painted my mind.
Memories flooded me, the way she laughed with a sweet undertone and even sweeter intent. My mind kept that sound like you would keep a sugary sweet in your mouth. Except my mind left me, the day that she was gone.