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 Writing from Eleanor, 12, Nottingham, UK

Eleanor's longest story was The Adventures of Jessie

CHEER FOR MUM!!!!!!!! Part 2

By Elle, 11, Hempshill Vale, Nottingham, England

CHEER FOR MUM!!!!!!!! Part 2

'Ok' Anita sighed, trying to act calm and not hyperventilate like her cousin would. She lay down next to her mums body. Her tummy was going ba-doing ba-doing! Anita knew she was still alive. She decided that the best thing to do was to ring her dad. She knew he would be angry because he was at work but it was an emergancy!

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door, Anita left her mums body on the floor and let her dad in.

'Now where's your mum?' he asked, as he followed Anita into the kitchen. As soon as he saw her mum, his eyes popped out.

'I never knew she could wear stuff like that!' he gaped at the body and then looked embarrased when Anita stared at him sternly.
'This is my MUM we are talking about. Your WIFE. She's hurt, can't you see or doesn't your brain communicate with her injury yet? Maybe it will in a few DAYS!'
'ANITA!' bellowed his dad. 'You need to help me get her to sit up!'

Anita gently put her hands behind her mums back and let her lean against the washing machine.

'OK...' her dad breathed slowly... 'I'm going to ring the ambulance and explain what happened. You said that she was cheerleading in the kitchen and then when you came back in she was on the floor, lying on her back breathing?'
'That's right,' answered Anita. 'But hurry.'

Her dad ran into the livingroom, his shoes going tap tap tap tap.

Anita stroked her mums hair and then looked at her body for the first time. She always thought her mum as pretty but now Anita could see that she had made a HUGE mistake, her mum was spotty, her nose big, her lips really thin and her skin too light. And her finger nails AND toenails were bitten. Anita stood up quickly. She felt like her mum was a stranger. Maybe she was. Anita just didn't know anymore...

Two days later her dad and Anita sat in the hospital seats looking worried. Her dad was biting his lips and Anita was fiddling with her hair.

'You do know that the chances are 54% that she'll live,' reassured her dad.
'But it's not enough!' whispered Anita. 'Why can't they be positive?'
'Well, imagine if they said that she was definately going to live and then she died. They wouldn't be very good doctors,' replied her dad.
'They aren't if she dies,' whispered Anita, through her hair.

All of a sudden, a doctor came out of the room where mum was.
'Ahem!' he cleared his throat and then peered at the two nervous people. 'I am pleased to say... that...that... your mum IS alive, however, I'm not sure if she will be able to cheerlead for a few years, you see, she fractured her back and she needs to be careful!'
'YES!' shouted Anita, delighted that her mum was OK.
'Thanks,' replied her dad, trying to be more formal even though it was hard. 'Err... when can she come home?'
'Oh, a week or so, but you can come and visit her anytime you like!'

'Thank you!' said Anita's dad again, then he took her hand and said 'Lets get a mcflurry!'

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Disco horror

By Eleanor, 11, Nottingham, UK

‘Little Angela opened her crisp packet and shoved the contents into her mouth, as she rubbed her tummy gently, she scooped up her maths books and the extra few things she needed like protractors and compasses. She then started to head towards the stairs running as fast as she could. The children of Ashbourne School looked at her suspiciously as she headed towards the bottom step. They knew she was up to something. Suddenly, Angela stopped and peered down at a piece of paper on the ground. She picked it up, fear in her eyes and read the note. It said, A, YOU’VE HAD ENOUGH TIME NOW AND YOU FAILED TO SHOW UP, PREPARE TO DIE…
She gasped and all of a sudden, a hurricane flew through the window, grabbing Angela and all her belongings. All the children could hear was the deadly storm howling and Angela’s blood curdling scream…
Five minutes later…
Charlie, a schoolboy with a criminal record was the person who picked up the note and ripped it. It was written in Angela’s blood.’

Mia looked up from her writing book and stared at the teacher, waiting.
‘Yes, Amelia?’ asked the teacher.
‘My writing,’ answered Mia. ‘Where you even listening to what I was reading? What did you think of it?’
‘Well,’ began Ms. Green, struggling to find the correct words. Finally, she found them. ‘Well, when I said a life or death story, I didn’t mean-’ she sighed. ‘All I’m saying is,’ she continued, ‘is that you shouldn’t let your imagination run wild. Stick to the facts, I mean, that would NEVER happen. Not in a million years.’
‘But Angela did die!’ protested Mia. ‘And I don’t know what you mean about a life or death situation, if it’s not what I’ve done then what does it mean?’
‘You are a tricky girl,’ answered Ms. Green. ‘And DON’T speak your mind, you’ll only get a clip round the ear! Shoo!’ she waved her hand at Mia. Mia slumped into her chair next to her best friend Anna who was making sick gestures. Mia giggled.
‘Mia,’ replied Ms. Green turning round, distracted from her algebra problems she was chalking out on the board. ‘What is a+(nn*cdj)?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Mia. ‘Fifty seven?’
‘Wrong!’ Ms. Green tutted. ‘When WILL you learn Mia?’
Mia didn’t answer; instead she turned around and smirked. Ms. Green didn’t even bother.

‘So are you going to the dance then?’ asked Anna, after class.
‘Course,’ replied Mia. ‘I mean, so what if I don’t have a boyfriend. I mean, we ARE doing the decorations AND I do want to have some fun even if it means being forced to watched all these soppy couples slow dancing in the moonlight.’
‘Well I’ll go if you go,’ replied Anna. ‘We can always dance together.’
‘Course we can,’ replied Mia. ‘It’s two days away isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ replied Anna. ‘Have you got an outfit?’
‘No, I’m going to go shopping on Friday night, fancy coming?’
‘Well,’ answered Anna. She fidgeted a bit. ‘I’m broke,’
‘I’ll lend you money,’ replied Mia. ‘Hey? Fancy practising our parts for the school play. I can’t BELIEVE that Mrs. Baker actually decided to do “Confessions of a teenage drama Queen” I mean how cool is that? Especially since I’m Lola and your Ella.’
‘Ok, lets start from the “ye God’s part.”’ Agreed Anna.
They stood by the school bench, right at the end of the field where they wouldn’t be disturbed.
‘Ye God’s!’ cried Mia, clutching her head. ‘What’ll become of us?’
‘You can say that again,’ replied Anna.
‘Ye gods-’ Mia broke off.
‘That was an expression,’ sighed Anna. ‘Now lets think of an idea of how to get Stu Wolff out of this position and dragging him to the pub without him being violently sick all down us,’ Anna grabbed an imaginary Stu’s collar and started dragging him.
‘In all of my sixteen years,’ began Mia dramatically, ‘have I ever witnessed Stu Wolff, all over us!’
‘Drunk.’ Added Anna.

Dear diary
Actually that sounds stupid, I sound like some nine year old pouring her heart out about some stupid poster on her wall, and how she is so dearly in love with him but found out today that he was engaged to Victoria Beckham, who is a complete pig. Yeah she is. Anyway, I am just so nervous about turning up at the disco COMPLETELY boy FREE. I mean, I know Mia is as well but come on, THREE QUARTERS OF THE SCHOOL ARE COUPLES!!!!!!!
Still, I guess I should be happy that I AM going instead of being stuck at boring old home, washing the pots and passing dad his inhaler while is snoring, dribbling. YUCK!
Dear diary, I have to go now! Byeeeeeee
Your beloved Anna

The nerves where rising when Anna and Mia entered the gymnasium dresses in pink from head to foot. Mia immediately walked towards the window, drumming her fingers on the sill. It annoyed Anna.
‘I’m going to get some drinks,’ announced Anna, heading towards the bar.
‘Don’t leave me!’ cried Mia, pathetically, clinging onto Anna.
‘Weird,’ replied Anna and walked off.
Although when she got to the bar, she knew she shouldn’t have.

The same terrible hurricane in Mia’s story came through the window, causing everyone to shiver violently.
‘HELP!’ Shrieked Mia, trying to make a run to Anna, but instead was being dragged back the opposite way. The hurricane picked up and it devoured everything it met. Soon, it had Mia in its clasp. It swept her up higher and higher. All the students could hear from Bramcote Hills was the hurricane howling madly, like a wolf and poor Mia’s blood curdling scream…

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Jessie's new life, follow up from the Adventures of Jessie

By Eleanor, 11, Nottingham, England

Jessie’s new life
The follow up from the Adventures of Jessie

I tossed the toy mouse to Almond, who tossed it back to me, then I tossed, she tossed, I tossed, she tossed. The world was perfect after the encounter with Tabitha and the humans. I had forgotten how happy my life was with my mum before. Or maybe what made my life even more interesting was the fact that I had a new sister, who was playing with me. I’d better explain…
One October morning I was bought by these humans and I was taken away from my mum. I spent about a week with them, being pampered, which was dreadful and then I decided that I couldn’t take it anymore so I ran away. I met a fierce dog, nearly was taken away again, nearly got ran over, had a huge dinner of sausages, met a friend called Almond and was finally reunited with my mum. And now, here I am, standing on the beautiful floor where mum, Almond and me were living currently. The reason I am saying currently is because mum overheard some women talking and that they said that they’d like to adopt a family of cats and then give them away to make some money. The woman started talking about us and how cute we were and that she was very interested in us. Somehow, I think that this will all end up in tears as we will end up being parted again.
I ran up to Almond and we both flopped down on the floor, our chins resting on our paws. We sighed and looked at our mum who was licking herself. I had a look out of the cage and then saw someone new. A new cat. I jumped up and ran over to the edge of the cage. I gazed at the new cat with wonder. I could tell straight away that it was a she by the way she walked with great elegance and care and the way how perfectly formed she was. And the big bump on her tummy. She looked this way and that and I smiled as she turned to face me. She hissed. I leapt back smartish in case she decided to attack.
‘Tough thing,’ I heard Almond whisper to me as she stood next to me. ‘I can tell straight away that we won’t get on with her!’
I agreed quickly. ‘I wonder what her name is,’ I whispered back.
‘Genevieve I think,’ replied Almond. ‘At least, I heard the woman by the counter saying it. But then again, she might be named something entirely different.’
‘Like ticks,’ I answered.
‘Or fleabags,’ Almond added and we spent ages thinking up names for the new cat. Even mum joined in by calling her Fleapit.
I had dinner next to Almond and mum in my new purple dish, which the owner had bought me the day after I had returned to the animal shelter. She had bought Almond an orange one and mum had a pink one which matched with her collar.
Then, I rolled over on my back and stretched a huge stretch and closed my eyes. Today had been a very relaxing and fun day for all of us but tonight it was time for a huge rest…

I woke up and meowed a huge meow. My mum came running, the woman came running and half of the cats stared at me. I looked down and carried on meowing, only now these meows were turning into wet tears, which were trickling down my cheeks. I didn’t want to look down but I had to. There on the floor was Almond. She had millions of cuts, her tail wasn’t attached to her body, her left foot was facing the wrong way and her nose was bleeding badly. I looked around the shelter and then I knew. The cat had attacked my sister.

The woman gasped as she saw the mess. My mum started crying as well and we hugged each other. The other nice cats started to cry to, as they had all known Almond and they were friends. I think that they thought she was dead…maybe she was…
The woman opened the cage door and gently scooped Almonds fragile body into her huge hands and rocked her gently. She carried her to the reception desk and rubbed something over her wounds and then she went outside with poor Almond. We heard her car leave the car park.
I looked at my mum and we both stared at Genevieve. The other cats copied us, their eyes little slits and their noses wrinkled up. But Genevieve just smiled and spat. ‘Well, she deserved it after the names she called me.’
‘Shut up!’ cried my mum. ‘It was only harmless fun; it wouldn’t have done anything to you. Tell you what, shall I come over to your cage in the night and scratch your belly so badly that you can’t birth to kittens?’
‘I’ll help you,’ I replied. ‘Get the job done quicker and then I can scratch her everywhere and turn her eyelids up and pull her eyes out so they’re scattered along the floor.’
‘We’ll help you!’ cried Mr. Whiskers the wise old cat. ‘What fun it will be.’
‘Oh, you won’t be doing any of that,’ replied Genevieve calmly. ‘Because you’ll be next!’ she pointed to my mum. ‘And then anyone else,’ she hissed. ‘So start praying that your deathbed won’t be under the barbeque!’ then Genevieve turned around and sat down to that her bum was on view.
‘MUM!’ I screamed and hot tears started to roll down my cheeks again. She sobbed as well. Suddenly, all the cats opened their cages after a while and came padding into the same cage as us and we all had a huge cuddle together. I thought about the past wonderful fortnight that we cats had had and then the nightmare of a day today and that it was created by one hellcat named Genevieve. That Genevieve was practically a murderer. I sincerely hoped that her baby died and so did she as it was pretty obvious that the baby would be as nasty as her and start, start…killing.
I smacked my head on the floor and howled.

The woman finally came back but with no Almond. As soon as she saw all of us but one in my cage she came rushing over and hugged us all.
‘My darlings!’ she cried. ‘Almond isn’t doing to well but she’ll be alright!’
I looked up at her rosy face and knew for the first time that she hated Genevieve. I mean, you couldn’t help hating her, especially since she’d attacked Almond AND she’d threatened to kill mum tonight and then anyone else she wanted to the other nights. I had a feeling that I would be next…
But anyway, after she hugged us she picked up the other cats and put them back in their cages, it took a bit of a while as the cats were putting on a bit of a fight, I guess they were trying to leap into Genevieve’s cage and attack but even if they did, they probably wouldn’t win. I don’t know what Genevieve would do but it would probably be worse than what she did to Almond. She was a terrible, mean, disgusting, nasty piece of work. I mean, come on, how many cats get pleasure out of attacking their own species? Well, quite frankly, a lot of them.
When I walked back to my mum, I noticed that she was staring at a piece of white paper on the ground. There was a lot of scribbly writing on it. I noticed her eyes making different shapes as she tried to read it but she couldn’t. I mean, no cat can read. But it turned out that we didn’t have to figure out how to read it as the woman picked it up in a hurry, opened the cage door that lead to us, sat down and read it out loud so all the cats could hear.
‘It says at twelve thirty,’ she announced, ‘That Jessie and Fluffy, will be going to the animal hospital to visit Almond and tomorrow each family will be going to see her,’
Fluffy is my mum.
We looked at each other and smiled.
‘But,’ she continued. ‘Genevieve will NOT be going to see her,’
Genevieve looked startled, though it was just an act.
‘As,’ the woman added. ‘I have a feeling that Genevieve has attacked Almond as when I took her in, the owner was saying that she liked a good fight AND when I came back in the shelter I noticed that all the cats were crowding round Jessie and Fluffy apart from Genevieve.’
The good cats smiled, Genevieve scowled which was a hard thing to do for a cat but Genevieve was able to do it perfectly!
As the woman went away, (I’ve forgotten her name) my mum purred to me, ‘I suppose humans aren’t as thick as you think. Well, at least she isn’t anyway.’ She nodded her head at the woman fading away in the distance.
‘I can’t wait to see Almond,’ I purred back.
‘But you mustn’t be shocked,’ replied my mum, ‘If machines are stuck inside her body and she has tubes everywhere. The tubes and machines are meant to help her so you mustn’t be scared of them.’
‘But what if they don’t help her?’ I asked, worriedly.
‘Oh, they will,’ she answered, but she didn’t sound so sure.
‘Listen to your mother!’ cried Mrs. Whiskers, ‘Your mother knows best and she is right. However,’ she added. ‘When we get Genevieve, they won’t be able to help her,’ she glanced at Genevieve who’s back was facing us again.
‘Yes,’ announced Mr. Whiskers, coming to the edge of his cage, next to his wife. ‘And don’t worry Fluffy, she won’t be able to get you, or any of us! We’ll all stick together and kill her!’
‘And the baby!’ I shouted.
‘And the baby!’

The woman picked my mum and me up and gently carried us to the car. As a goodbye present from the home, we were given a snarl from Genevieve. It was obvious that we were in for it. As a result, I cried all the way to the vets and ended up getting me and my mum some cat treats to stop me from meowing.
When I saw Almond, I froze. There in front of me was a monster. A dead monster. She was black and blue all over, she had half a tail, an eye was missing, her ears were bleeding and her tummy, legs and nose were all bandaged up. It was horrible. I buried my face in my mum’s soft fur and the lady picked us up and cuddled us, rocking us this way and that. I thought of Almond for a few minutes. How we used to toss the toy mouse, how we used to play games with our food, how we used to roll in the hay outside the house and most of all, how Almond, mum and I all used to have huge family cuddles. I got a huge lump in my throat. The woman, sensing that we were so upset waved goodbye to the vet, and carried us back to the car, a little tear dribbling down her cheek. She put us back in the big cage and tied a seatbelt round it. I sat down alongside my mum, staring out through the bars, our legs scrunched up terribly.
When we got back, all the nice cats had questions on their faces. I shook my head sadly and they all lay down, leaning on their paws. Apart from Genevieve. She jumped in the air and landed back down with a thump. Then she hissed menacingly at us cats. I hissed back at her half-heartedly and sighed, looking at the huge green plant that was outside my cage. It sighed with me; it’s leaves rustling in the slight breeze. I felt a hot tear trickling down my face; I squeezed my eyes tight, until I was in a storm of hot, sad tears.

Just as Genevieve had said, the next morning, mum was lying in the same position that Almond had been lying in, cut and bruised, sore all over and still. It was the stillness that scared me most. The woman came along again and picked up mum’s body but it was like that she didn’t mind as much and as if it didn’t matter. But it did. IT DID! And if this was going to carry on I might not… might not… might not have a… family. I screwed my face up and looked around the horrible home. There were other cats doing the same as me. Mrs. Whiskers gestured me to come forwards and when I did, she put her paw on my paw and then kissed me.
‘It’s all right,’ she purred softly. ‘Almond and your mum will be all right in the end, they’ll just be very sore for a bit.’
‘But… but… why didn’t I hear?’ I whimpered pathetically.
‘Not all of us can hear, my child,’ replied Mr. Whiskers. ‘You were in a deep sleep and that is good.’
‘But it’s not!’ I cried. ‘Thanks to me, my family are going to, are going to… die!’
‘It is NOT thanks to you,’ replied Mrs. Whiskers harshly. ‘It is thanks to a dirty little worm called Genevieve.’
‘Well thanks for the complement,’ replied Genevieve.
We turned around and stared at her. She stared back.
Mr. Whiskers whispered something into his wife’s ear and she nodded.
‘TONIGHT!’ Mr Whiskers’ voice boomed out loud, so that every cat looked up and down and then stared at him. ‘THERE WILL BE A CHANGE IN THE AIR.’
I looked interested.
‘AND SOMETHING WILL BACK FIRE,’ continued Mr. Whiskers, still staring straight at Genevieve, coldly. ‘AND THAT BACK FIRING THING WILL HAPPEN TO A HORRIBLE CAT.’
‘Jessie!’ hissed Genevieve.
I stared at her. I felt her eyes boring into me, even though she was staring at Mr. Whiskers. I couldn’t believe how horrible she was.
He stared at a timid, little yellow pussycat.
‘G-G-Genevieve?’ she stammered, looking hopeful.
‘EXACTLY!’ replied Mr. Whiskers. ‘SO YOU BETTER WATCH OUT GENEVIEVE,’ he replied, turning to her once more. ‘You better watch out, bad things are zooming towards them and you can’t stop them.’
‘Purr-lease!’ cried Genevieve, lying down. ‘You are such wimps! There is no way either of you are going to come into my cage and destroy me. Because if you do, I’ll kill you.’
‘Who are you planning to hurt tonight Genevieve?’ asked a wobbly voice.
‘Oh I’m not going to tell you,’ replied Genevieve. ‘It’ll be a nice surprise for you in the morning. But, you better all start saying your goodbyes.’ She spat and turned around.
‘Well, it’s better than her face!’ cried Humbug, one of my kitten friends. He undid his latch and bounded off to my cage, which he jumped over. ‘I’ll play with you.’
I didn’t exactly want to but I decided that if I did, it would take my mind off things, so I smiled, nodded and the next thing I knew was me and Humbug jumping inside the cage, with all the adults staring at us, joyfully.

‘EEK!’ Wailed Mrs. Whiskers. Her shrieks waking everything.
She stood over her husband, crying loudly, wailing, and sobbing. I stood up and stared out of my cage, seeing Mr. Whiskers’ limp body made me shudder and turn away.
Today the woman was brisk and short tempered. She carried the body away mumbling and grumbling. However, as she passed Genevieve’s cage, she bent down and smacked her, receiving a bite mark between her thumb and finger.
We cats listened to the noise that suddenly filled the whole room. There was a loud hiss. A scream. A jump. A leap. Desperation.

I looked over and saw the woman lying on the floor, she opened her eyes and stood up and limped across to the desk where the phone was. She dialled the RSPCA and they told her that they were going to fetch her in an hour’s time. I think all of us cats leapt for joy, it was a wonderful thing. Finally we could feel safe and sound. Well, we couldn’t rest though, not until Mr Whiskers…Almond…mum…

I sat down and breathed in…out…in…out… I stood up and shook it all about! Mrs. Whiskers watched me through the corner of her eye and then she stood up and copied me. It was like our own little dance routine and the cats all watched us all wide eyed, after a while, nearly all of us were at it! All except Genevieve, who yet AGAIN had turned her back to us. But we didn’t care! We were glad that she was going and that she couldn’t harass us anymore. After a while, I didn’t believe myself but it was true. It was true! We were going to be left alone and the house would be back to normal. Well, nearly…

I unlocked my cage and padded round the huge room. In the end, I went into Mrs. Whiskers’ cage and we cuddled together. It almost felt like mum hugging me but Mrs. Whiskers didn’t have the same smell. However, it was very comforting.

For lunch I had a huge feast. I had biscuits to start off with, followed by chicken meat in jelly with crunch toppings and for dessert; I had little chicken shaped treats. I also had a saucer of milk, which I sipped up quickly. Then I sat down on the windowsill, sunbathing in the hot heat. It was absolute bliss. When I looked around the house, all the other cats seemed to have a great time. The woman was cleaning out Genevieve’s cage and chucking all her spare hairs in the bin, she also had rubber gloves on. I heard her mutter,
‘She’s a nuisance that cat is, it’s no wonder her owner said she was a right little nipper. Oh well, at least we’ve got rid of her…’
Too right, I thought. I decided that I really liked the woman and that she could be my third mum. Mum first, then Mrs. Whiskers, and then her.

When I woke up, I noticed Mrs. Whiskers with Midnight, who was a young kitten, and was one of the newest members. Midnight and Mrs. Whiskers were curled up and kind of talking together. I smiled and was happy that Mrs. Whiskers was happy after the encounter with Genevieve. Mind you, I had been put through worse things and yet, I didn’t really feel all that sorry for myself, as for Mrs. Whiskers. I suppose it was because she was older and had known Mr. Whiskers for longer while I was younger and only knew mum for six months and like Almond for one month. Maybe less.

Mrs. Whiskers noticed me staring and beckoned me to come forwards so I did, and we had a group hug together. A bit like what me and Almond and mum had together after something really good or really bad had happened. Only this cuddle felt a bit more safe and secure. I couldn’t figure it out. All I knew was that this was the life. Well, if Midnight was Almond and Mrs. Whiskers was mum, but for now, they could be my mums and sister and we could do the exact things that we all did together. It would be all right. Especially since Midnight had no mum as she had died by crossing the road and since Mrs. Whiskers had lost her husband. Well, she hadn’t really lost him, and I hadn’t really lost my mum. But for now, I reckon that us three would be very happy along with all the other cats. Genevieve was history!

The woman took me, Mrs. Whiskers and Midnight to the vets today to see the poor pussycats. Almond looked a lot better than the other cats but she was still horrible looking. My mum was a complete mess, but no one was as worse as Mr. Whiskers. His ears were all laced and his nose was red, his fur was soaked with blood, he didn’t have any claws, and worse of all…he had no…tail.
That sent Mrs. Whiskers off who mewed and mewed and had to be sent back to the car. I looked at my family members and choked back a tear. The vet looked at me sadly as if to say ‘are you all right?’
Midnight looked at me worriedly and snuggled up to me. I watched mum and Almonds tummies moving up and down, up and down gently. I kind of smiled, if a cat CAN. Because at least I knew that them two were alive. I glanced at Mr. Whiskers. There was tummy movement, only very slightly.
‘Is he, is he…dead?’ asked the woman, as if reading my thoughts.
‘No,’ began the vet person, he face serious. ‘However, he doesn’t have much chance living, he has been the most brutally hacked by that terrible cat Genevieve you were talking about.’
‘Oh,’ said the woman, lost for words. ‘Are Almond and Fluffy dead?’
‘None of them,’ replied the vet. ‘They have more of a chance of living although they are still very slim, chances I mean. Is Almond the almond colour cat?’
‘Yes,’ answered the woman.
‘Well, she looks like she’s a bit more healthier. Fingers cross they’ll all get better!’
I crossed my paws, I watched Midnight do it as well.

When we were back in the car, we told Mrs. Whiskers everything, although it made her cry and cry.
‘He’s going to die, I just know it!’ she insisted.
‘You don’t know for sure!’ I began.
‘Yeah!’ continued Midnight. ‘They only said he had less of a chance. Doesn’t mean he WILL die. Besides, me and Jess have got our paws crossed!’
‘You look like you need the loo,’ Mrs. Whiskers sniffed. ‘Still, I suppose you are right but knowing my luck…’ she stopped, her sentence hanging in mid air.
‘Stop worrying,’ began Midnight. ‘Just put it behind you for now. I know that’s VERY hard but you’ve just got to forget it.’
‘How?’ asked Mrs. Whiskers.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘But just do lots of things that will keep you busy, and remember, you’ve got Midnight, me and all the other cats at the shelter to look after you.’
‘You know what?’ asked Mrs. Whiskers. ‘You’re a very, very brave cat!’
I beamed, ear to ear.

After that, Mrs. Whiskers took part in all the games, like catch the mouse, ball, the eating contest, jingle bells, pile on top and lots, lots more. She seemed to enjoy herself in the daytime but at night her sobbing filled the room and everyone knew how sad and unhappy she was. She was so unhappy that I got depressed. It was so terrible seeing her like that. So terrible that everyone else got depressed too.

Now that I think about it the reason she died was because of depression and of Mr. Whiskers. Sorry I am unable to write this with lots of detail, it’s because I am so sad, boo hoo! OH WHY? OH WHY?
When I saw Mrs. Whiskers I howled and the other cats joined in. The woman picked up poor Mrs. Whiskers and carried her outside. The last time I saw her body was when the woman was carrying her into the stable (where all the cats were buried)

That night I couldn’t get to sleep and kept tossing and turning on the floor. Midnight came and joined me and we cuddled together. It felt lonely. Because of Mrs. Whiskers and all the other disappearances. These were the missing cats, well when I say missing, you know what I mean…

A. Mrs. Whiskers (dead)
B. Almond (at the animal hospital)
C. Mum (at the animal hospital)
D. Mr. Whiskers (at the animal hospital
E. Genevieve (at RSPCA)

Only I’m glad letter E went but four other nice animals were gone, well one was gone forever but we didn’t know about the rest…

As soon as the woman came back in, she collapsed, there and then on the floor!

I walked around and around my cage until finally I couldn’t take it any more so I jumped out of my cage and into Midnights. Together, we played for a while and then sat down, out of breath.
‘I’m hungry!’ complained Midnight.
‘She should be here to feed us if she wasn’t on the floor.’ I agreed.
‘We should take her somewhere, like the vets where she took everyone else!’ cried Midnight, happily.
‘Yes!’ I replied.
‘Err, we can’t drive though or anything,’ continued Midnight, glumly.
‘Well…’ I had a sudden brainwave. ‘That man comes every month and he’ll be able to feed us and ring the vets!’
‘Wait a minute…’ replied Midnight, staring into Genevieve’s empty cage. ‘She’s got some spare food! Just a minute!’ she hopped out of the cage and started wolfing the food down and lapping the water, making it ripple, with her little bell tinkling away.
I looked hungrily into Mrs. Whiskers’ cage but there was nothing in it. All the other cats looked hungry too, they were all staring at me as if I should do something. I smiled at them but they carried on staring.
‘I wish someone was here to look after us!’ I moaned pathetically, pacing up and down inside Midnight’s cage. Midnight’s head was still bobbing up and down as she ate and drank, ate and drank but soon, all of that was gone too and then she came back and lay with me.
‘It’s really empty now,’ whispered Midnight.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Well, I know there’s us cats but especially with the woman gone and everything. You know, I don’t think we’ll survive,’ answered Midnight.
‘We have too,’ I said. ‘And we will.’

Another woman came in today, she looked completely new and untrusting, with a glint in her green eyes but she sent the woman to the hospital and fed all of us, food overflowing. All of the cats started to worship her and luckily she stayed a few more days, feeding us again and again. And she showed us a piece of a black and white piece of paper. On it, was some handwriting that was all messy, but I could just figure out the word Almond and Better. Than I felt over the moon. The woman smiled at all of us and I felt so happy that I jumped up and down and danced with the mouse and made lots of noises and all the other cats joined in with me, dancing and prancing, whooping and calling, jumping high and low, shouting, screaming, playing, lying down. Everyone was high in spirits. And this time I meant it. It was like suddenly the whole house had come alive and this was what it used to be like. It was a wonderful experience. I swore I saw the woman shaking her head a bit and jumping ever so slightly.


Almond arrived. In the morning, the new woman came in holding out a ginger cat in her arms. She put her into the empty cage, which was my cage, and then I went into it only to discover Almond! She was alive and well and soon we were playing meow-a-rama.

‘Where’s Mrs. Whiskers?’ asked Almond suspiciously.
‘Died,’ I whispered, hanging my head.
‘And Genevieve?’ asked Almond, sniffing.
‘Gone,’ I cried happily.
‘Where?’ asked Almond suddenly.
‘Back to the RSPCA where she came from!’ I cried, jumping.
‘Finally,’ announced Almond. ‘I was wondering in the vets if the Flea Pit would still be there and I was hoping and hoping that she wasn’t and… where’s our owner?’
‘Collapsed,’ I replied. ‘But we have a new one, the one over there.’
‘She’s nice,’ replied Almond happily, she fed me Chicken in Jelly with crunch toppings and treaty meaty sticks and milk! It was the best Breakfast I’d had in ages!’
‘Lucky you,’ I agreed.
‘Do you want to play something else?’ asked Almond, suddenly flopping down.
‘How about…’ I began. ‘How about Mouses r uz?’
‘Great game,’ replied Almond. ‘OK, can I go first?’
‘Sure,’ I replied.
I so desperately wanted to know what it was like in the vets but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to say it as I had a feeling that Almond didn’t want to share it…

Dear Jessie,
Hello my darling! I am missing you ever so much but hopefully I will be back soon but I am still ill but keep your paws crossed! I am so glad that Almond is all right and is now back at the shelter. Mr. Whiskers is still here and can’t wait to see his wife, he is missing her lots and lots, like I am missing you and Almond…
The vet is horrible, just like I always expected. It isn’t dirty and everything, it’s just that it is quite scary and there are lots of people surrounding you all the time, doing blood tests and whatever. I sure hope you never end up in one.
Is Flea Pit still there? I sure hope she isn’t after she caused all that dreadful hassle back home! I do hope Mistress has come to her senses and has given her the boot back to where she belongs! Do you reckon they’ll put her down if she is getting rid of?
Love you lots and lots and can’t wait to see you soon!
PS. I promise I will be home very soon and say hello to Mrs. Whiskers, Midnight and all the other nice cats!

‘Almond!’ I cried. ‘Read this! It’s from mum!’
‘That,’ replied Almond. ‘Is a good sign.’

The huge iron door creaked open and yet another body was put into the cage. Only it wasn’t mum, it was Mr. Whiskers. He still looked very fragile but was still smiling and didn’t seem to notice that his cage was empty.
‘I’m so happy to be home!’ he cried. ‘The vet was terrible! I am never going there again!’ he cried. ‘Oh look”’ he suddenly shouted. ‘That rats gone! Now we can live in peace!’ he threw back his paws and meowed one loud meow. ‘HAPPINESS!’ he cried.
‘Err,’ whispered Almond. ‘He’s certainly NOT going to be happy when he finds out about Mrs. Whiskers…’
‘Nope,’ I nodded in agreement.

‘Where…’ began Mr. Whiskers.
‘Your wife is…is…’ I couldn’t carry on and none of the other cats wanted to either.
‘Is she at the vets too?’ asked Mr. Whiskers. ‘I must have missed her. Just.’
‘Well the thing is…’ began Almond.
‘Well, hopefully this new woman will have to take her to me. I have to keep her company. She is particularly scared of vets and needles and anything like that.’
‘Me too,’ replied Almond in agreement.
‘I suppose most cats are,’ I replied, trying to steer clear of Mrs. Whiskers.

No such luck.

‘Where is she?’ asked Mr. Whiskers. ‘Are you hiding something?’
‘No…’ began Almond.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Mr. Whiskers.
‘Well…’ I began. I looked into his eyes and knew that I couldn’t lie to Mr. Whiskers.

‘She’s dead.’
‘HOW?’ demanded Mr. Whiskers. ‘Was it that Genevieve?’
‘No,’ I sighed. ‘She died of depression. ‘She was missing you…’
‘It’s my fault!’ cried Mr. Whiskers, and he howled his head off.

The final cat came back. And guess who it was? MUM!!!!

She looked so well and happy and cheerful.

At nighttime, mum, Almond and me ate our dinners together, lay down together and slept together. Just as normal…

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Victorian words

By Eleanor, 10, Nottingham, UK


Eliza Smith, Elizabeth Katherine Amelia Victoria Smith. Victoria for the queen! My brother’s name is Edward Albert Henry Smith. He is four years younger than me. I am twelve years of age and Ed is eight years of age. He has just started school, as we could not afford it earlier on in life. We were only to go to posh schools, as mother did not want us to mix with ‘common pupils’. So Bracken school for girls and boys is the place for us. It is a horse and cart ride away. Half an hour on foot but mother will not allow us to walk more than ten minutes.

Bracken is a boarding school, so naturally, we only go home and see mother and father on the special holidays. It is hell here, the walls are dampish and we are not allowed anything on the walls apart from the picture of our famous queen and the prince. We have a gold-railed bed, well, it’s been painted and we all have plain black sheets. On each floor is a cold black rug and the floors are wooden, with gold splodges here and there. We each have an old washbasin in the corner and we have an old sink, which only has cold water and we wash ourselves in there. Mother says we must be proud that we go to a boarding school with washed children. Mother says it is a crime to see dirty un- clean children so we had a bath every month, which is good. Here, I try to wash every week but most times it is not possible as we have lots of work here as the teachers expect good education from us. We have to study hard.

Most of the teachers are cruel and whip us-we all have bruises, even the good ones. Miss Larnce is especially mean to us. We will each have our daily beating to knock some sense into us, or so she says.
Mrs Magnus is the nicest teacher and she teaches us history. I love hearing about the murderer’s, Jack the ripper and Mary Ann Cotton, even Sweeny Todd. I prefer Mary Ann Cotton, as she is a woman. It is important to have women murderers.
Mrs Magnus says it is unusual for a girl like me to be interested in such a thing, but it’s interesting! It is kind of spooky seeing as the year is 1888 and Jack the ripper is now roaming the streets in Whitechapel. We are not in Whitechapel but very close to it. So far he has murdered three women, Polly, Martha and someone else. I can’t remember all the names.
My auntie Amelia says we should pray each night for every woman in London and that way no one else will die. I don’t know how many women there are, I’ve not had chance to work it out but then we don’t have the time to pray for everyone. If we pray one person, someone will end up suffering! It would be terrible to be one of the poor defenceless women.

I must go down for my tea now as the evening bell is ringing and if I am late I will get a beating. It is most un-pleasant.

We have had pork, potatoes and carrots for dinner. The carrots were not cooked properly so they did not taste nice. The potatoes were lumpy. The pork was fine but it was too chewy for me. I got a severe telling off for talking. I am meant to be the naughtiest child in the school. The teachers say so, but a boy in my class called Frederick is getting told off everyday, he always has red knuckles!

I write letters to my mother and father saying about them blaming me and about Frederick, they say to me that is obviously poor and should be treated with a gentle but firm hand. I should be treated with a gentle but firm hand!

Dear mother and father,
The letter you sent me last time was very enjoyable. I liked the cat, it looks just like Oscar!
We still have our daily beating, now it’s morning and night and so I stay awake for ages staring at the dull, bare roof and I think of home. Oh how it makes me homesick! The holidays are here soon though and I shall see you!
Best wishes

I wrote that with great care, and making sure I spilled no ink, as I had history homework about William the conqueror. He is so boring! I’m glad I’m not him. I bet in 1066 or whenever he invaded, they didn’t have basins, or loos! The grand old potty, whatever would we do without it?

Eddie came knocking on my door, after having nightmares again. He always has them. About Miss Larnce killing us. Yes, she even does it to the younger children. Actually, a six-year-old boy called Edmund ended up seriously injured after a terrible ten-minute beating! Oh how many beatings is that?

About…100 beatings! Maybe even more! I am so poor at arithmetic!


I had to get up at six because one of the older girls, Marie who was seventeen, well, she was moving to America, where her auntie and uncle live. The rumour has it that they were terribly fond of her and when they found out she was here, they took her away, and they were awfully angry with her parents. I don’t think her parents liked her anyway, but they put up a fight. Guess who won. So she went to New York. It’s meant to be a beautiful place; I shall go there one day. And take the whole family. It could be for mother’s birthday. She says that she enjoys the beauties of Canada; maybe we could go there instead…

I’m quite emotional when we say goodbye to Marie. I didn’t exactly know her but every now and then we’d say hello and we’d nod politely. She didn’t exactly remind me of a friend, after all, she had lots of them. She had, Lucy Bennet, Sophia, Francesca and Edith. If I named them all, it would take all day! Quite a few people were crying.
My best friend Harriet wiped my eyes with her hankie and Olivia, a new girl put her arm around me and we went upstairs to my room. There, we ate a few apples, which I had put in my bag and we played with my rat, Snuffles. We’re not supposed to have pets, but, my father gave it to me as a leaving present, Eddie’s got one too called Shredder. He loves newspapers. I like to save mine as recently, Jack the ripper is in it quite frequently and Mary Ann Cotton is in it from time to time. Sweeny Todd sounds most exiting though I shan’t step on Fleet Street, in fact, I’ll keep well away from it. AND Whitechapel, goodness knows what would happen if you lived there. I could picture me as that Martha, oh the thought! And I wonder where Mary Ann Cotton lives, it should be quite dangerous there, though it is said that she’s murdered all her family, still, it’s better to be safe than sorry! Oh yeah! And DR Crippen. I seem to have the address in my head but I can’t quite remember. One should keep track of these things; you could end your life if you moved to some unsafe place that you didn’t know about.
Olivia has a typewriter in her room; we are going to write a story together soon, it will be an adventure with us three as the main characters. It shall be truly delightful to write.
I now have to write an essay after refusing to have my daily whipping, instead, I had to have triple whipping on account of what I said. I really should keep my mouth shut but these things do tend to come out and they always, well, nearly always get me into trouble! So anyway, about this essay, well, it’s not really an essay, it’s what we call lines. Fifty lines on Miss Larnce’s desk the following morning. My lines are, I must always have a beating.

I must always have a beating
I must always have a beating
I must always have a beating
I must always have a beating
I must always have a beating
I must always have a beating


I must always have a beating

I spilt ink everywhere so the writing is a bit messy. I shall get told off in the morning, though I don’t see why. It was only three and a half words! The half looks weird. The trouble with ink is, you can’t move it off the page.

I had put my lines on the desk at quarter to eight, and sat down at ten to. I was about five minutes earlier than the others that meant I got my beating first. The first beating is always the worst. I tried to get to the back of the queue but I just got another whip. How unfair is that! And, surprisingly, I got told off for the lines. I looked upwards and saw the old wicker basket hanging from the roof. Next thing I knew, I was in it with a piece of blotting paper and some ink and I had to write an essay about myself, along with the others. I should say, my handwriting wasn’t the same and when Miss Larnce looked at it, she wasn’t too pleased. She gave me a beating and then I ran up the steps, into my room and locked the door. The lock is very old.
Though, I did skip needlework, honestly that is so boring!


I am twelve years of age with shoulder length brown hair and freckles. I have emerald green eyes and red lips. My colour is white but my hands and such places are red. That’s because of my beatings. It’s a part of life.
I love animals and wish I could have one bit I can’t. When I am older I shall have twenty pets and maybe even live in Canada where my mother wants to go, I am wishing for lots and it will happen!
My friends are Harriet and Olivia and I have other friends but they are my best friends
Elizabeth Smith.

I couldn’t lean properly so I went a bit too italic and it started slanting. But I can’t help that, I mean, it’s not a crime.
English is one of my worse subjects. Arithmetic’s is always next and I did quite well yesterday with Mr Thompson. I got most of my sums right and I managed to find out the pattern in my sums, which are too boring to put in this book. My favourite teacher teaches my favourite subject, history, at my favourite time of the day. The end. Of the day I mean!
We did some more about William the conqueror and we handed in our work and guess what she gave me!


Which is one of the best scores I’ve had this year! Now, it feels as if I’ve turned over a new leaf. Ahh, the joy! Supposedly I got the third highest score.
… A girl called Emily, who is so unpopular, came second with an A and a certain bright spark named Olivia (she’s my friend! I’m so proud!) Came FIRST with an A+! Maybe I’ll be like that. I think Harriet was fifth or sixth with a C.

After a hard days work, I shut myself in my room and started to do some more sums, for Mr Thompson.

7x3 =21

And such boring things I do not wish to recall.

Olivia and Harriet have started writing diaries too. Olivia’s done about…ten pages, I know Harriet’s done four and I’ve done about seven!
I wish I were as clever as Olivia Simpson.

You’ll never guess what, but after dinner, Lucy, one of Marie’s friend’s came to me and said.

‘Marie said you were a friend of hers and so she’s written to you. She said you were clever and she wants you to answer. She wants you to be her pen friend.’
‘Fine, pass me the letter please,’ I whispered. She handed me it.
‘When you’ve finished the letter, give it to me and I’ll post it. I’m the only one allowed to know the address!’ and off Lucy went, tossing her beautiful blonde hair.

Olivia gave me her typewriter and I took it back to my room and started tapping…

Dear Marie,
I’m glad you have picked me out of the group of people to be you pen friend. I am writing this on Olivia’s typewriter. I am sure you know Olivia. If you think I am clever, then you should see Olivia! How is it in New York? Are you being pampered? I’m going to go to Canada when I’m older!
Hope to hear from you soon
P.S. Please can I know your address? I want to know that no one else is reading them because you never know what Lucy will do. Sorry if I upset you or offended you!

I sealed it up tight in the envelope I had saved up for. I made sure that Lucy wouldn’t read it behind my back, not that there are any private bits, not really.

Miss Larnce has just come back from the town after watching her sister Ethel being hung for something. Anyway, that means she was as happy as she could be for the rest of the day as she didn’t like Ethel and Ethel didn’t like her. I suppose it’s a sister thing because I don’t fall out with my brother. Maybe you can fall out with your friends and then be really glad when they get hung. None of my friends will get hung! I hope.

I decided to write a story. A story to put in this because I suppose this is a story, if you think about it. It’s a diary. A book. So, I’ve decided to do maybe bits of it here and there, if I remember that is. I’ve got a reputation for being forgetful. Harriet normally remembers the unknown things for me.

I am going to write this story in the font on the typewriter then I shall stick it in the book somehow.


Victoria paced the stone floor in the castle waiting and waiting for a response. Noting happened. Scuffle, scuffle. She heard something then. Scuffle, scuffle. It was coming nearer and nearer. She ad heard of murderer’s near her castle, trying to murder her and…

I think it shall be Albert coming to ask her something and then she’ll get really mad at him because she thought it would be her death day?

‘Alright?’ asked Albert opening the door. Victoria leapt to the other side of the room in fright.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said coldly.
‘Hmm. Oh!’ said the prince, knowingly.
‘Don’t scare me like that,’ said the grand queen.
‘And you shan’t be scared, you have your guards and they won’t let suspicious Jack the rippers or old ladies with tea in their hands.’
‘One should be aware of these things,’ said the queen. ‘Agree with me, you can’t be to careful.’
‘Of course you can’t, not this century anyway, who knows, maybe the next century no one will have heard of murderer’s.’
‘But the Victorian’s will,’ replied Victoria.
‘We just need them all to be hung,’ answered Albert.
‘Well start now,’ whispered the queen. ‘That way we can be sure that murderer’s have less chance of surviving.’

I think that’s a good bit in the story, everyone wants murderer’s to be killed. Although they’re interesting. You’ve got to admit that.

The evening bell is ringing and if I don’t go now, I will get a beating. Maybe more!

I got a reply from mother and Father this morning and it was quite long. Mother has dreadful italic handwriting, worse than mine but my dad’s isn’t italic and his handwriting is lovely so he did the writing.

Dear Eliza
I have sent a letter to your brother so I think you should read it to him.
I hear that you have your beatings, even when you’re good! Is it that Miss Larnce as I’m sure if you want, we can sue her! I’m glad you like the picture of the cat we sent you and it is Oscar so no wonder he looked like him! Oscar is now a father as a young cat across the street called Fluffy who has given birth to kittens. So he’s a father of five and, Oscar’s owner has offered us a kitten. We were thinking if you would like to give her a name. She’s a black and white kitten, with white legs so I was thinking along the lines of Bootsy. I just want to know what you think. You’ll have to ask Eddie first, though I’m not sure he’ll be that bothered. In the holiday’s you’ll have Bootsy to play with, but I’m not sure what we’ll do with Snuffles. We know pets are strictly forbidden at this school but if we take him home, he’ll have to stay in either your brothers room or yours and then the other person can have Bootsy in their room.
Remember, tell me if she’s going to be called Bootsy.
Love Father,
PS Mum will write a bit now.

Dear Eliza
Sorry about my handwriting, it’s a bit big and long but I’m afraid it will have to do. How’s everyone at school? Are you and your brother fine? It’s not long now until the holidays so you can come home and see the kitten. I can’t wait for you two to come home.
We have sent Ed a letter each so please read it to him!

So, I put the letter under my bed and strolled into my brothers room next door, and read the two letters to him.

How are you doing? Eliza is hopefully reading this to you. So, how are your lessons like?
We have a new kitten in the house. Oscar and Fluffy are now Mother and Father or Husband and wife. They gave birth to five kittens and the owner of Oscar offered us a black and white kitten so we said yes! We are thinking that we should call her Bootsy. What do you and Eliza think? Tell us. Make sure Eliza helps you with your letter if you need help!
Mother and Father.

Eddie wanted me to help him with his letter straight away then he could send it off quickly and get another reply, so with help from me, he wrote.

Dear mother and father,
Thank you for the letter. Call the kitten Bootsy, it’s a nice name, and the lessons are fine. I don’t like it here and I want to go to a different school! Please send me some place else after the holidays!
What about Snuffles when we go home? Can I keep him in the holidays? Eliza said I could!
I said it was very good, he passed me an envelope and I said I would post it as soon as I had written my letter. I decided, as I had no homework to do today and all I had to do was hand it in I’d be safe to write a letter.

Dear mother and father,
Thank you for your two letters you sent me. I am sorry that I didn’t write two letters, one to each of you but I am a bit busy at the moment.
Bootsy is a very nice name and Eddie can keep Snuffles for a bit while I look after Bootsy, but unlike Snuffles, Bootsy will stay at home. We don’t want her to be too easy to discover!
I can’t wait for the holidays, it is only eight days away, and that is just over a week! So I shall be seeing you very shortly!
Best wishes to all three of you, and I hope Oscar and Fluffy are one happy couple!

I managed to sneak out of Bracken and down the road to the post box. I sneaked in again and nobody caught me! That has made me in a happy mood, but I won’t be happy for much longer as I have to do English first with Miss Larnce and she beats us!

I made sure I was a bit late and I was third last in the queue for whipping. It still hurt but it wasn’t as bad as yesterday! I shall never try to be early again! If I remember!

At least I didn’t have to go in the hanging basket again today. That’s a goodish start. Today we had to practise our handwriting, which wasn’t to bad, we had to write, Mrs Larnce is the best teacher ever and I’ll never forget that. I don’t think anyone likes her!

Mrs Larnce is the best teacher ever and I’ll never forget that!

And do you know what grade she gave me?



Most of the children, thinking that get high scores added more nice stuff on but that got them nowhere, in fact, they got an E. Some got an E+ if they were really good people whom never got into trouble.

We then had to write about someone else in the class, a few lines about them so I did Harriet, Harriet did Olivia, and Olivia did me.

Harriet is a very kind clever girl who hardly ever gets into trouble. She is a very good friend to Olivia and I and we shall all carry on being friends, no matter what!

She’s a friend to us all! She’s a bright, sensible child with very neat handwriting, and she’s a very likeable child!

Is a great friend and she is trustworthy. You can tell all your secrets to her and she’ll never ever tell. Whatever the circumstances! She’s very clever and gets good grades!

We all got all right grades. Olivia got a B, I got a B+ and Harriet got a B+. Well, before earlier on, I would have thought they were excellent grades. But as I got an A. Well, it’s not as good! I decided to do Needle work. We had to stitch our names and then stitch a nice fancy pattern round the outside. My name is in pink and I have got a blue, red and lilac heart pattern round the outside. I’m going to give it to mother and father when the holidays arrive!

I had to do Arithmetic’s as we were having a test and if you didn’t do it today, you’d do it again and you’d have to write lines. We had to do our tables and I got thirteen out of twenty. Olivia came fourth with fifteen and Harriet got eighteen, guess who came top?
Anyway, Mr Thompson said I was getting better and soon, I would be a mathematician! I don’t think so, and if I do get that choice, I’d be an author or something else interesting as it must be boring to sit by a desk all day dividing numbers in your head, I’d much rather study English although I am poor at it.

I felt a bit sick at the remark about me being a mathematician and I actually ended up being sick. As it was history, I went downstairs to do history but Mr Thompson caught me in the corridors and said that I should stay in my room! How nice is that? It’s probably because I’m improving in his class! So instead, I decided to write more of my book, “the hanging”.

Albert ordered Victoria’s guards to go round White chapel, Fleet Street and all around it and all the other places in London. They even checked Mayfair!
They came back one week after the great search after finding hundreds of people. Victoria wanted them all to be hung tomorrow and the next day.
‘Just to be sure,’ she said to Albert as she was watching an innocent woman called Jill the ripper being hung.
At the end of the day though, the castle knew that all of the people were innocent and had never committed a crime. Victoria knew this as well but she did not like to admit it.
The search carried on and on and the guards took any suspicious looking people out of their homes and took them to the castle to be hung.
‘You know, the sooner we get rid of the murderer’s, the better,’ remarked Victoria.
‘We all agree, but it’s so hard,’ replied Albert.
‘And with all these murderer’s, the population of London was going down fast.’
‘And even faster, with all these hangings, there must be half of the population there was two years ago!’ announced Albert.
‘Then we must be more precise!’ demanded Victoria.
‘But how?’ asked Albert. ‘That is the question.’

And then Harriet came in my room and gave me a little talk about the homework. Actually, all we had to do was think of a Tudor King or Queen and write a bit about them, we finished about William the Conqueror.

King Henry VIII

He is most interesting. He was famous for his six wives.
Wife one was Catherine Howard? She gave birth to a baby girl soon after she and Henry were married. She and Henry were divorced when he met, wife two, Anne Boleyn. She gave birth to a baby girl like Catherine. She was beheaded and Henry went on to marry Jane Seymour. She gave birth to a baby boy but died soon after. So, one of the guards showed Henry a picture of Anne of Cleves, she looked beautiful in the photo so he ordered that he should marry her so she was sent over but Henry protested that she looked like a horse! Soon after, they were divorced. Then he found a beautiful young lady called Catherine and he married her, but the thing was, she flirted with other men and when Henry found out, she was beheaded. The, Henry found his sixth wife called Catherine. They married and soon after, he was going to behead her but Catherine knew. So in the night, she packed her bags and ran away, so she didn’t die and she was the only wife who didn’t get divorced, or beheaded or died but in actual fact, she survived!

I wrote a lot and I didn’t know that I knew that much about Henry! A lot! I am hoping though, that I will know more by the beginning of the holidays so I can tell mother and father about Henry and that shall make them pleased. Henry was always my father’s favourite Tudor King and I must admit, he is interesting.
I went into Harriet’s room and she was doing about Elizabeth II. She was one of King Henry eight’s daughters. His children were, Elizabeth, Mary and Edward. Olivia was doing about Lady Jane Grey, well; she was Queen for nine days before Mary got her beheaded. She was courageous. I wish I were brave like her.

I went into Ed’s room as well to tell him I’d sent the letters to mother and father and I went back to my room and had a wash, ready for dinner. I got dressed into my best dress. It was purple velvet with a white sash around the top. I knew it wasn’t Sunday but I could wear a different one. I mean, I have other nice dresses too.

The meal was a vegetable soup, with lumps in it, and we had bread to dip in the soup. We had water for drink. A little less filling than the pork on Wednesday but mother said anything is better than nothing and that I should count my blessings.

After dinner, I got changed into my nightclothes and snuggled under the covers. At about half two, Eddie stumbled into my room after having a nightmare. He would get told off if he was not in his room so I read him a story and took him quietly to his bed and sneakily went back to my own room and tried to get to sleep. Which, thankfully, I could.


I got up at six and got dressed into my uniform. Lessons started early today and I had to be in English by seven to get a beating. I ended up second last today, which was quite good. Harriet was behind me and Olivia was in front of me. The cane was even harder than usual; I think Miss Larnce bought a new one. You could tell.

Today, we had to fill in a sheet about Queen Victoria and we had to see how much we knew.

Full name: Victoria Alexandria ?
Husband: Albert, he was from Germany and he was the first person to deliver Christmas trees to England. From now on, we have a tree in our houses every Christmas, we put it up before hand and then we take it down after Christmas.
The age she was when she started to rule England: Eighteen
Date of when she started to rule England: 1838
When her husband died: I don’t know, is it 1865?

I got a B-. I don’t really know much about her, I don’t keep track of stuff to do with Royalty. Well, it depends who it is. If I live for 100 years later, then I will probably be interested in Victoria, but I am not living in 1988, I’m living in 1888 with Jack the ripper. Ooh, exciting!

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My Cat Jess

By Eleanor, 10, Nottingham, UK

My cat Jess
Makes a lot of mess
Likes to eat cress

My cat spat
Likes to play with the rat
Curls up on the mat

My cat ate
All the contents on the plate
She is my best mate


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Two best friends

By Eleanor, 10, Nottingham, UK

Right, I don't know how to put this but...I'm dead.

Yep, that's right, I am now officially called the haunted spirit of Rachael Scott Lee, according to my best friend Louise as my name is Rachael Scott Lee. Now, I've read Vicky Angel by Jacqueline Wilson and I don't know if you have but I never thought it was true. Until today. When I found out that I was just like Vicky and that Louisa is like Jade, though she really isn't as weedy as her. Since I've become a ghost, I now swoop into bedrooms at night and wail but the sad thing is...is that the only person who can hear me is Louisa and she's not frightened anymore.

Anyway, I'm going to tell you a story about the two of us and what happened and how we VERY NEARLY fell out. But in the end we didn't...

'Follow me!!!!!!!!!' I shrieked, swooping through the air.
'No you loony!' replied Louisa, trying to tug at my flares, but forgetting that her hand went straight through my body.
'Ha!' I stuck out my tongue at her.
'COME HERE!' Yelled Louisa as I hurtled out of sight.
I hid behind one of the big mansions with window boxes, waiting to pounce out at her. 'I'M GOING TO WALK A DIFFERENT WAY NOW AND IF YOU DON'T FOLLOW ME, I'M GONNA BE FRIENDS WITH MEGAN!' And off she sauntered. See, I told you she wasn't a bit like Jade.
'Oh come on!' I cried, once I was next to her. 'Grow up!'
'Excuse me?' she asked.
'You know "grow up" are the words Jade said in Vicky Angel!'
'Honestly, I think you're obsessed with that book, maybe you should read something else.'
'Well now you think about it,' I said. 'I am interested in Jack the ripper and the way he murdered his victims. Shall I tell you the most brutally murdered one? Well, he pulled her insides out and...'
'SHUT UP!' Demanded Louisa. 'Something else.'
'Joan of Arc?' I asked. 'Boy, I would really like to know how it felt like to be on the stake.'
'Hot,' said Louisa. 'How about 101 Dalmations?'
'What?' I asked. 'Excuse me, but I am like 13 and that book is for like 6 year olds...'
'I read it,' replied Louisa, looking hurt.
'Can't I just read Pinocchio instead?' I asked.
'Look,' replied Louisa. 'Something nice with nothing gruesome in it.'
'Hey, do you want to jump under that bus?' I asked, grinning wickedly.
'NO!' Shouted Louisa. 'And why should I?'
'To be with me,' I replied. 'We could soar straight up into the sky and never come back...'
'I want to stay down on earth thank you very much,' replied Louisa.

See, she's just about as stubborn as me!

'Well I'll chuck you!' I said.
'You can't,' she replied. 'Because you can't touch me.'
'Oh yes I can!'
I snapped my fingers and touched her.
'Oh my god!' she said. 'You are not laying a finger on me!'
'Too late,' I replied. I started pushing her. Now, she may be skinnier than me but she is definately stronger than me.
She pushed me backwards.
'Ow!' I said, then she turned backwards and I kicked her into the middle of the road...

'I can't believe I did that!'
'Well you did!'
'Look I'm sooooooo sorry, just forgive me!'
'Why should I? You nearly got me KILLED!'
'I just wanted us to be together forever...'
'Ooh, well, we can be together forever.'
'Are you sure?'
'As sure as sure can be.'

And we pressed our friendship bracelets together.

'Friends forever!' we announced.
(May 2004)

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By Elle, 10, Nottingham, UK

Anita opened the curtains and the enormous yellow sun splashed on her angelic face. She sighed a huge sigh and got dressed.
As she went downstairs a while later though, she heard a strange humming noise downstairs. It was most absurd. Anita ran down the rest of the steps and tripped over the last few. She picked herself up and ran into the kitchen, where her mum was. She looked up and stood there. There in the room was her thirty nine year old mum in a purple and white cheerleader outfit, doing cartwheels and cheering.
'Mum!' she screamed.
'Hi darling!' her mum giggled. 'Like the outfit? I found this in the attic when dad was clearing out.'
'Yes mum very...' Anita, personally hated sports whatever it was and she generally threw up when she had to sit through football games and watch the skinny little girls prancing around with pom poms in their hands, prancing about the place. 'Stylish,' she said at last.
Her mum looked down at herself.
'I'm surprised it still fits me,' she said eventually.
Anita shrugged and went into the lounge to watch telly. She could hear her mum singing again and thumping loudly when she touched the ground. Anita reached for the controls and turned the tv up louder.
'SHUT UP!' Cried Anita, annoyingly at her mum in the kitchen who was making little screams.
Five minutes later, Anita got up from her comfy arm chair and walked into the kitchen. It was Anita's turn to scream. Because there in the middle of the floor, was her mum, on her back...


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Want a friend

By Eleanor, 10, Nottingham, UK

A is for Amanda

Hello. My name is Amanda Darning, I’m ten years old and I have a major problem. I don’t have a friend. I never have. You see, I’ve always been changing schools and I never have enough time to make friends. We don’t go far. I used to go to Whitemoor, now it’s old baseford. I see the children from Whitemoor a lot but they never speak or anything. It’s like that now in old baseford, people stare at me, never say a word to me but that is probably a good thing, they’d know how weird I was. Nobody should know the truth about me. I dare not tell anyone, nor do I write it down on paper for fear of someone reading it, I keep it in my head, me and my mum’s secret.

Now, I have a pen friend. Well, she might be. There were advertisements in the heart magazine for pen pals. I saw Chloe’s and she sounded just like me, I suddenly wrote a letter to her, it hasn’t been posted yet. I read it every day hoping she will like it. Maybe Chloe can be my friend. Maybe. Maybe, just maybe.

Would you like to read my letter?

Dear Chloe,
I have read your advertisement in the latest issue of heart (magazine), it inspired me and I decided to write to you to ask if I could be your pen pal. I have always wanted a pen pal. A pen pal is just like a friend which I’ve never had. I want a friend though; you could maybe be my friend. I suppose you want to know some personal details. Well, I’m Amanda Darning, ten years old. I have major secrets that nobody knows. I shall never tell anyone unless someone is a true friend, I give people tests. Nobody has past them. To be honestly true, nobody has done these tests. Nobody wants to be my friend. I am a sad lonely girl.
Well anyway thanks for reading this letter and I hope you decide to be my pen pal, I would be ever so thankful.
Yours truly

P.S I hope you don’t mind about the xxx, everyone in my family does it, I don’t love you.

Now all I need to do is send it. I think I’ll go to the post box now…
I hope my mum will let me. She worries about me going. I mean, it’s only down the road! But, there are mums for you!
My mum and me live on our own. My dad was an alcoholic and he was very violent so mum thinks that he is wondering round the streets waiting to murder me. I think like. He’s hardly going to kill a girl. He probably won’t remember me now. I know it was only three years ago that he left us but he’ll have forgotten if he is still drinking.
Anyway, I think I’ll slip away…away…away…NOW!

B is for Beth

Hi. I’ve created a fact file especially for this book.

Name: Bethany Simpson
Age: twelve
D.O.B: 4/9/91
Mum and dad: Henrietta and Charles Simpson
Friends: None
Pets: A cat called Fluff ball
Special features: Freckles
Overweight: Yes, I’m fat!

I suppose people are put off because of my weight. I cannot believe I am telling you this but I weigh fifteen stone two pounds. I went to hospital because of my weight. I try diets but I put on weight easily. People bully me at school, it’s not serious, and they just call me names and push me around. I’m not going to tell anyone because it isn’t serious, or is it?

Excuse me; I’m not good at English so this bit about me might be a bit small so sorry. I’m dyslexic. That might be another reason why people bully me. It’s weird. Well weird…

C is for Chloe

Hi there! My name is Chloe Farrow, I’m ten. You know. This book is meant to be about people with no friends, saddo’s. This girl though has millions of friends; I’m the most popular in the class. The only reason I am writing is because, well, two reasons

1. I absolutely love writing stories and letters, I’m not boasting but I come top in the class at English and
2. I want to be famous. I want people to know me, not just people at school.

I think they are good reasons.

I hope you do.

My friends do too.

Especially Jasmine

And Rosie

And don’t forget Jessica.

There are so many people who support me. I really am quite lucky. But getting luckier. Yesterday I received a letter from a girl called Amanda Darning. Her letter was quite interesting. I have written a letter to her, it says.

Dear Amanda Darning,
I am Chloe Farrrow, I’m the same age as you and I received your letter yesterday. It was brilliant so I decided to write back to you and here is the letter.
Hello. I want to know what your secret is bye the way. Your big secret, I want to know. Pardon me for being rude it is just that I am eager to find out. I love secrets and I never tell. One of my friends, Rachel once told me a secret about her mum being pregnant. It’s not a secret now, Rosie told but anyway, I kept that secret forever, I haven’t told anyone until Rachel said I could. Her mum shows now. She has one more month until the baby is born. Rachel is uncomfortable about this. She already has to put up with an older brother called Curtis who is 15 and a younger sister called Sophie who is 7. Now she is going to have another younger sister (her mum checked to see what it was). Her name is going to be Charlie. I have a younger brother called Lewis. He is not much of a pain.
I have to go now

This is a photocopy of the letter; I posted it as soon as I wrote it. It’s my best letter ever.

Tonight I’m going to a party in town. It’s Jasmines party, she’s eleven. Rosie’s dad is picking me, Jessica and Louise up in…half an hour. Afterwards we’re having a sleepover. Cool stuff, right now though, I better get changed!
I never know what to wear. I have so many nice things! I don’t know whether to where a dress or trousers. Actually, I’ll wear trousers…no! My silk lilac Chinese skirt! No! I’ll wear my t-shirt dress, with the blue sleeves with a picture of a cat in the middle and I’ll wear my blue denim platforms with sequin flowers and I’ll wear my denim jacket. I’ll wear my denim scrunchy and my blue earrings. There, sorted!

D is for Daisy

I can’t believe it! I can so not believe it! My best friend, well, she was, Kaci, met this new girl at this club she joined. The girl, Tara started a new school and Kaci told her to come to my school so she did. I hated Tara from the start. I tried to be nice to her but she was horrible to me. Then one day she pushed me in the boys toilets and then said to Kaci that I had pusher HER in the boys toilets so now I am a lonely girl. I went on this website and it’s all about these people who want an email friend. I saw this girl called Grace and I have emailed her and she has emailed me back. Want to read them? Oh yes, I have written another email so you can read that as well!

To Grace,
HI! I heard all about you on the website all about pen pals.com and you sounded brilliant.
My friend, Kaci has just decided not to be my friend anymore because she wants to be this new girls best friend. Well, the new girl pushed me in the boy’s loos but instead; she said I had pushed her! You are two years older than me and you might find me babyish but just say so. I’d hate to make you feel like you have to write.
Oh yeah, I suppose you want to know all about me. My name is Daisy and I am ten so I know you are twelve. I bet you have lots of friends but I have absolutely none. So I am hoping you will be my best friend and then I can show off to Kaci and especially her new friend! That will show them! You know, Kaci said to me that I’d never get a new friend because how mean I was. Get real! I will get a friend.
Please will you be that friend Grace?

Dear Daisy
You don’t bore me, you are incredible. I also have no friends and I am glad you picked me. Your email was delightful, I hope you are not mad but my mum read it and said it was great. I told her if we carried on writing she wouldn’t be able to read anymore because it would be private. Can you still write to me?
Yours sincerely,

Dear Grace,
Of course we can still write, I like the sound of you! I’m glad you like the sound of me. Remember, if at any time you don’t want to be my friend, just tell me. I hope you always want to be my friend like I always want to be yours. We can be secret together and make up a special language if you want to. By the way, Grace is a very nice name.
Hope to hear from you soon,

I’m ever so pleased that she liked me. I told my mum and she was so happy for me. Well that sounds silly, but you know what I mean. I think I’ll finish off my homework I’ve got to as I have to hand it in by tomorrow and I am already in trouble with the teacher. I am normally good but now I get depressed so I never hand in my homework but now I’m happy to have a new friend and I feel really good. I’ll do my homework while I am in a happy mood or else I won’t do it.
Bye now!

Please clap for Daisy! She worked really hard for that and she thinks it is stupid, so please be kind!
Daisy’s mum!

E is for Emma

A is for Abbey, B is for Bertha, C is for Cathy my mum…

‘How are you doing?’
‘Lets be best friends!’

I wish. I was dreaming that in my head. Someone would come along and be my best friend just like that! No.
D is for Delilah, E is for me, Emma, F is for Frankie…
They are all my friends. I have 24 friends in my dreams. I meet a different one each night and then I meet them again and again.
G is for Georgia, H is for Hannah, I is for Irene…
I’m on Jane. That was she and I up there; we bumped into each other in Spain. It was very hot there. We stayed in each other’s villa and had parties every night and it was loads of fun.
J is for Jane, K is for Katie, L is for Lily.
Boy, all these friends!
M is for Millie, N is for Nicole, O is for Opal…
I can’t wait to meet them all again. I’ve already met them all twice and they are all very nice. Nicole and me started a drama but we haven’t finished it.
P is for Polly, Q is for blank, R is for Rebecca…
My best friend is Polly; we get up to all sorts of mischief in her house! She’s got this stupid little brother called Jake and we locked him in the bathroom for ages until his mum came up and needed the loo so we had to let him out. He was screaming his head off so Polly and me said that it was a joke and she wasn’t convinced.
S is for Samantha, T is for Tilly, U is for Ulrika…
I am so much like Tilly! It’s like we are twins! I went to dinner at her house and she has the same wallpaper and everything as my house! It’s spooky!
V is for Violet, W is for Wendy, X is for Xena
And Xena and me went shopping and she bought me some ruby red earrings and I bought her this little leather bag from Claire’s.
Y is for Yolanda and Z is for Zelda!
They are all my friends!
Meet them all!
Abbey-quiet and kind
Bertha-a chatterbox
Cathy-has a heart of gold
Frankie-noisy but nice
Hannah-wacky and creative
Irene-shy, very shy
Jane-absolutely, totally cool
Katie-quiet and pretty
Lily-a bit thick, but is kind
Millie-a chatterbox
Nicole-drop dead gorgeous
Opal-a shiny gem, ha, ha!
Rebecca-arty farty
Samantha-clever, comes top in everything
Tilly-wicked and cool
Ulrika-a great cook
Violet-has a heart of gold, the same as Cathy
Xena-the next Pink
Zelda-kind and a bit of a drama queen!

F is for Fiona

Yo, that’s my name, don’t wear it out! Says Danny out of Grease when he meets Sandy for the first time at Rydell High.
Sandy is narked. He is not the Danny Zukka she met at the beach.
I wish I were Sandra D. Oh, it would be brilliant! I suppose I look like Sandy as well! It would be especially cool at the end when Sandy changes. Though I hope she didn’t really smoke! I hate people smoking. That’s how my uncle died. His name was Al Coholic! I don’t think so. No, his name was Liam. He had no friends, just like me.

Dear Sandy,
I am writing to congratulate you for what you did 30 years ago and that was playing Sandy out of Grease! I really want to be you and so do lots of other girls out there. Please give me some tips about how to be a top actress.
Thank you very much for reading this letter and I am ever so grateful.
From, Fiona Manning

I doubt she’ll send anything back, she probably won’t even read it but at least it makes me feel better. I feel like I have a friend, though I have no friends but at least I feel better. I’m glad I don’t feel bad about them.
The definition of a drug is…
Any substance other than food, which can affect the way your mind and body work.
I learnt it in D.A.R.E. It’s all about drugs and how to stay safe. Away from violence and all that.
My D.A.R.E. officer is called P.C Manning. That is my surname and he is not my dad but everyone thinks he is and I get teased about it. It’s sad. Even Mr Manning told everyone when I told him but they thought he was my dad even more!
I am not going to write anymore as it is giving me a headache!

G is for Grace

Hi, all you people out there! My name is Grace Jordan and I am from St Helens. It’s really nice down there, nice houses and everything. They have this huge shopping centre in town and it is one of the biggest shopping centres. I go down there once a week with my child minder, Doreen. We spend ages in Next, where Doreen tries on every single top! Mother care, where we get baby clothes for the babies, Jessie and James, they are twins with jet black hair, and the same features. I always nag Doreen to take me up to Tammy and she hardly ever agrees. She doesn’t agree of punk clothing, though it’s not all! There was this really nice rainbow coloured gypsy top with the music sign, a happy face, the union Jack and all these other signs sewn onto the top. There was also this long pink dress and it had lots of glitter flowers on it. I ask to go into New Look but she thinks the clothes are to old for me, and the ones in MK1. I have to shop in Marks and Spencer’s! She would buy clothes for me at mother Care if I weren’t so big. Anyway, I’m not writing in this book to talk about clothes so lets get down to business.
I am friendless. Well, not completely, I have this friend called Daisy and we like each other. She’s sent me this second email and I have just typed one up to send back but my mum has to read it before I send it. It was Doreen’s idea. She said I might be using dirty language on the Internet without them knowing about it. As if! I get told off if they see me writing god on a piece of paper. I’m not letting them read this. I’ll get about a hundred smacks if they ever read this. When I decided to write in this book, they expected me to put like this fact file about myself and how I am devoted to my Barbie dolls! I still have my Barbie’s, my mum makes me keep them because she likes them; I stuff them away right at the back in my knicker drawer but have to take them out when my cousin, Mary comes round. She is five and she is mad about dolls. So when she came round, I handed her Summer, my “Diva Starz” doll and she just chucked it on the floor and now poor Summer is broken and dangerous. I was going to show her my precious “Fashion Polly” but thought that she might tear the clothes and ruin everything.
Anyway, I was talking about my email and I had just finished writing it. I’d put something private down but then remembered mum would be reading it so I deleted it. I can’t tell Daisy any secrets! I know! Mum’s finished checking it so I’ll add stuff on it and send it.
To Daisy,
Thanks for your second email; I try to reply as quickly as possible, I’m sorry if you don’t want to keep writing again and again but if you don’t then just wait.
I don’t like my mum, do you, your mum I mean. She always reads my emails so I have started to add stuff on after she has read it, and then send it. After it has been sent, I’ll delete everything in the sent items! Simple! Anyway, I can’t wait to hear from you again!

I really mean it too. When you put down like you can’t wait to get a reply, you mostly put it down to be polite but I really mean it. I enjoy getting letters and emails because it makes me feel important. Anyway, this is the end of my bit of the book, but I hoped you enjoyed reading my bit!

H is for Heather

‘Hi, I’m Ruby and this is my twin Garnet, we’ve come to audition here for the two brilliant twins!’ I said cheerfully.
‘I’m Garnet,’ my friend Meena said.
‘What did you have for breakfast?’ asked my other friend, Anita.
We were acting out Double act by Jacqueline Wilson.
The reason we have been writing in this book is because we want some new friends. We feel really sorry for all the people out there so we want people to know us and maybe get in touch with us. Like, I think it was Beth; we have made little files about ourselves.

Name: Anita Donnelly
D.O.B: 1/6/93
Fave names: Rachel, Leanne and Phoebe.
Best friends: Meena and Heather!
Pets: One cat, Jessie
Fave food: Pasta!

Name: Heather Allen
D.O.B: 22/3/93
Fave names: Rachel, Lisa and Alice
Best friends: Meena and Anita!
Pets: 5 fish, V, K, M, B, A
Fave food: Chips!

Name: Meena Naramie
D.O.B: 15/11/93
Fave names: Meena, Heather and Anita
Best friends: Heather and Anita!
Pets: 2 dogs, Smudge and Fudge
Fave food: Chicken Curry!

We are hoping people will go on a website called www.meenaanitaheather.com/alltogether-forever! It’s for everyone, it has games and we designed it ourselves. Meena’s dad makes websites so he set it up for us!
Anyway, we are at Meena’s house and we can smell curry cooking!

I is for Imogen

I can’t even sleep now because I am so frightened. I can’t eat or drink or play without thinking about it. Two girls, Kimberley and Brenda, bully me. I go on help lines and stuff but it doesn’t help me. It starts in the morning at half eight when I say goodbye to my mum and bravely make my way into school. Brenda and Kim stay at the top gates, chatting until my mum goes. I run down the school driveway but when my mum is gone, they chase after me and get one hand on my ponytail, pull my head backwards and kick me. People crowd round and watch. Kim and Brenda swear to bully anybody who goes and tells what they do to me so nobody does. I’m too scared to go to my teacher and I haven’t even told my mum or dad! I have a feeling that they will find out and kill me. They threatened to kill me with a knife one day when I went to the head teacher to try and tell off them. I should have told the head teacher about that but I didn’t. I don’t know why, I knew they wouldn’t get expelled, no one does. Probably suspended for a week but I would live in sheer misery. I have written to an agony aunt in a magazine and she sent an answer back but all she said was tell a teacher, but I can’t!
I hope somebody will be my friend because I really need one and it’s like, very important to have a friend, very important.
My cousin, Michelle wanted me to be a pen pal for her, she is five so it’s hard to write to her because I don’t know what to put, I am writing to her now…

Dear Michelle,
I promised to write to you. When are we going to see each other again? I want to see you. It will be fun. We can play with your Barbie’s. Or do some drawing and make cards.
From, your cousin,

I hate Barbie’s, she’s got this swan lake thing and whenever her friend comes round, she insists they play Barbie of Swan Lake and then she always makes her friends cry. I suppose it’s because they end up as a prince or something.
Oh well, got to go to sleep now, I am dreading school the next day; maybe I should pretend to be sick!

J is for Janie

I am brown skinned. I have no friends because of that. People think I am yuck because I am brown but that is not the truth! I set up this group thing and my brother and me were on strike, we had made these banners and we were walking round in circles on the front garden shouting
“Brown skins have rights, so don’t treat them like mites!”
“We aren’t racist so why are you?”
A few people came out and put some money in this jar my oldest brother was holding and at one o clock we sold lemonade and hot dogs, people came and had a chat and some children came. The really young children joined in the shouting and the protesting but the older ones hung around and kept trying to nick the money and making stupid comments about the brown skinned people. Talk about racist! Anyway, there is this new girl at school called Naomi and she is brown and she is alone so maybe we can be friends. I would like to be. I have wrote her something on the computer which says…

I am called Janie and I would like to be your friend. I am lonely too! It would be nice to have a friend and you seem very kind indeed! I see you slumped against the wall at play times and see you sob. I try to make my way to you but people won’t let me through. Listen, if you want to be my friend, stay behind in the top end library at playtime and I shall meet you.
Best wishes,

I put it in her tray so hopefully she’ll find it and come to the library. I love reading and the reason I put down the library was because she is clever and because I like reading so maybe we can have a read of a book and discuss the plot. I like doing that. I am walking towards the library now and I am hoping like mad that she is there and…

K is for Kaci

I am writing in this book because Daisy has and I want her to know that I have fallen out with Tara. She started to really show off since she’s got this modelling contract. I want to be your best friend again Daisy but I bet she won’t be because she’ll never forgive me!
I reckon Daisy has got this pretend voo doo doll in her hand, which she made of me and is sticking pins in me and punching me and about to rip my head off! I bet she’s ripped Tara’s head off. I wonder if Tara has had her actual head torn off! Imagine if she came to school one day headless!
Anyway, I noticed Daisy had a new friend Grace, so I shan’t interfere with the new friendship. Besides, Daisy won’t want me anymore! I suppose I could make a new friend.
I hope Naomi has turned up for Janie and I would like to be Imogen’s friend and I shall get in touch with her at some point. I hope Imogen would like to be my friend.

Here that Daisy? I’m getting a new friend just like you, so there!

I bet Daisy is jealous, very jealous and she is a bright shade of green. I suppose Grace will be coming to our school and then her and Daisy will show off.

Actually, why should I be Daisy’s friend? She pushed Tara into the boy’s loos, that can’t be a best friend. I read somewhere that best friends should respect one another’s other friend; well she hasn’t so I won’t respect Grace! Serves Daisy right!

I bet Daisy is fuming now, now I’m telling everyone about her! Well tough! That’s what I always say. Tough on you!

Right, need to carry on with my homework now; and catch up on the maths. I need to do three more long division sums and check them with a calculator. Why can’t I just do it with a calculator?

Anyway, got to be going now…

L is for Louisa

I admit it. I’m a geek!
I get teased rotten, I come top in everything, maths, science and English. You know, all the really hard stuff, except; they’re not hard for me.
I just want a friend so I’m writing in this book; I’m trying not to sound too geeky. Have you watched Harry Potter? I have, and I’m as clever as Hermione Granger, but even Hermione is like, stylish, you know? I wish I was as popular as Hermione, for her cleverness, and she has friends. Something I haven’t got.

I am leaving a letter for all you people out there, just write in the book about me and the author will let us meet!

Dear readers and writers,
I am Louise Gardener, the geek, people call me at school. I am friendless and I need a friend or two to help me get on with life. I understand if you don’t want to be my friend but I totally want to be yours, so, please, just give me a chance to show you, who I really am and I’ll listen to you. I won’t rub my cleverness in either, though people think I do.
Good luck also to all you people out there like me, all we need is a friend and we will get on with life, ok. So remember, if you want to be my friend, write in this book and somehow we’ll find each other! Right, got that?
Anyway, I hope I’m the right friend for you!
Best wishes,
Louisa Gardener,
P.S. Remember, I need a friend, I really need one!

Hope they like the letter, and you too, hope to hear from you very soon!
Got the message?

Louisa Gardener ends her story!
M is for Molly

I got a letter from a weird person called Melanie. She wants to meet up with me. She says she has a best friend called Emma Black and she talks about these best friends of hers all the time. I’ve read Emma’s article higher up and now I don’t know whom to believe! I’m still going to see Melanie though; she sounds a bit like me.
I might as well give it a go, and see if we can be friends. I don’t know how Melanie got my address…
Suppose she’s a stalker or something…or wants to kill me!
No, that’s my mum who will think that, always thinks the worst. I take after her sometimes you know. My mum is a worry guts, she doesn’t even like me going to the corner shop for god’s sake! So I go to my friend’s house and we go to the corner shop and buy sweets galore! I promise my mum I won’t go, I’m only allowed to go with an adult and I’m 13! I only live down the street from the shop as well!
Oh yeah, when I said I go to my friend’s house, I used to. That was until…
I don’t want to say it…
It’s way to sad…
She got killed.
In a car crash…
Mum was drunk…
Crashed the car…
Her name was…
Lisa Burns.
A cross between Lisa Simpson and Mr Burns from the Simpson’s.
Who’s your favourite character out of the Simpson’s?
Mine’s Ralph, because he’s quite cute and he’s thick.
I like his sweet voice. His dad is quite funny.

Arrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh! Homework alert, homework alert, deadline tomorrow, haven’t done homework…

N is for Nadia

One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish!
Hop on pop, can you hop on pop while pop hops on pop?

Naughty Nadia needs new newts,
Neil, Nadia’s newt, needs new name,
Now Neil, Nicolas newt, Nicolas newt new name!

Stupid Sam speaks slowly,
Spits saliva straight, so snakes,
Slither swirling some slippery

That doesn’t make sense; I’ll try and make one that makes sense…

Clever Carley,

Oh it doesn’t work, how about one that rhymes?

My brother Sam,
Has a girlfriend named Cam,
Her burps and trumps,
Are like loud thumps,
We all hold our noses,
While Sam bravely gives her roses,
We wish she’d go away,
Forever and a day!

That’s better, oh yeah, I need a new friend and I decided to do some word things to show people what I am good at. They are not very good but I’m not very good.

I’m not very good,
As I could,

Thud bye.
O is for Olivia

I’ve just come back from shopping with my mum at Morison’s.
Gawd, there was a massive queue at all the checkouts.
I don’t know what to say…
So tired…
Could sleep…
Need a friend…
Good night…

So sorry about that, I’m so tired…

I need a friend, so come and get me…
Lonely now…
Friends moved…
To Somerset…
And the North Pole…
I mean…
No LA…
P is for Pollyanna

I like the sound of that Louisa; I’ve decided to write her a letter,

I am Pollyanna.
I agree with you, you are not a geek,
No matter what people say,
You’re the friend for me!
Pollyanna Chappell.

It’s not much but it’s better than nothing, that’s what I always say.

You know, I’ve had this truly weird dream last night about me being an angel flying in the sky. Perhaps it’s a sign.

To say that I am delicate.
Angel like.
You know, that kind of thing.
I was an angel in the school nativity in year two. I was next to this girl called India and she was waving to her mum the whole time and she lost her balance (we were on the edge of the stage) and fell off! She had a nosebleed and she had to go home and we had to carry on without her and me and a few other girls had to budge up. It just so happened that she was the angel Gabriel and that Gabriel needed to speak soon so a boy named Lee did the part, he had learnt the lines of the shepherd, which he was and the angel Gabriel and he was great.
Did you know the Angel Gabriel was a boy? Well he was, so the girls were Angel Gabriella’s.

I started to write this book called

Jolly Jimmy.

It’s quite good; do you want to read a bit of it?

Jimmy was rather ambitious. He declared that when he was sixteen he would be world’s greatest boxer. His older sister however, disagreed. Jimmy was rather jolly and funny and that he would end up with his own television show.
Either of these jobs was good to Jimmy. He was a good boxer and made people laugh. It just so happened that one day Jimmy had a bad, bad accident that changed his life forever…

And there you have it! I’ve got to the exciting bit now and I can’t wait to write it out, I’ve got it all in my head!

And now, I shall leave you with these words.

Goodbye, friends!

Q is for Queenie

I am a royal queen.
Incredibly pretty,
And so charming
So very charming!

That’s a poem about I. You know, I’m stuck on acrostic poems. It’s hard to do one about me because of the Q and the U. Yesterday though, I did one especially for this book…

Queenie is my name,
U will figure out my game,
Ever so fast I am ever so fast,
Even with this cast,
Now this cast is on my leg,
I look just like a peg,
Elegant, I think not!

And that is an acrostic poem, and I even made it rhyme! I spent ages doing it and the U was pretty hard. So I thought of a mobile phone and look what I came up with.

These poems are for a special reason. I need a friend, like everyone else does so I’ve written poems about me for people to read. I like the sound of Nadia with them little word games; I don’t think I could do one.

Queenie’s quilt,
Queer Queenie’s quilt,
Quit’s quaking.

That was so hard, it doesn’t make sense but then who cares? Not I!

And so, I end my bit in the book, and I am now famous, I shall tell everyone!

R is for Rachael

My name Rachael is spelt the old fashioned way. I prefer it that way, because there are lots of Rachel’s in my class who spell Rachel like Rachel while I spell Rachael like Rachael. I like the name Rachael; it’s not that that common no matter what my uncle Peter says.

Apart from Rachael, I’d like my name to be Mary.
Over 100 years ago it was the Victorian times and Jack the Ripper roamed the streets in 1888 and Mary Ann Cotton poisoned victims with arsenic in her tea. Dr Crippen made powerful medicines and Sweeny Todd gave men to the bakery next door to make meat pies!
I like Mary Ann Cotton, well I like hearing about her. She’s pretty cool, and a lady. I’d like my name to be Mary Ann. It’s a nice name as well. Cotton however is different. What colour cotton was she? I hope she was red, no yellow, the sign of poison, red wouldn’t suit her. That is the colour of the blood of Jack the Rippers victims!
How did Jack the Ripper manage to be so mysterious?

Someone answer that question!

My teacher thinks I am weird. Teaching myself about murderers. I enjoy reading about them. She thinks blood and guts are for boys, but she’s got it all wrong!

Did you know that in Madam Tusauds, or however you spell it have noticed that in the chamber of horrors, more women visit it than men. Women can stand more blood and guts!

I don’t know why I am talking about wax works but apart from murderer’s I am interested in Joan of arc. Especially when she was burnt at the stake. I’ve seen the film of Joan of arc and it’s a wonder how they made it look like Joan really had and arrow stuck in her and how she was burnt. My mum said first of all they film her standing, chained to the stake struggling to get out and then they film the stake on fire. Then they put the two pictures together, and thhhheeeeeerrrrrreeee, ye have it!
A genuine masterpiece.
I’m off to make my own gory film now,
S is for Stella

Stella Artois, my name is. Only joking. My name is Stella Browning.
My dad drinks lots of Stella Artois, he says it helps him gets through the day. Without it, he would probably die. That’s sad. People say my dad is an alcoholic. He’s not, he has three glass full’s a day, every day; it doesn’t mean he’s an alcoholic, does it? He smells disgusting and I hear mum and dad arguing. Dad swears and shouts. Mum shrinks and shrinks. Mum says he’s depressed. Well his brother did die not long ago. His brother didn’t even leave him anything.

We don’t have much money because dad goes to the bar every night and spends about £50 on beer.

Because of this, I have no friends and I really need one. My last friend Emily wouldn’t stay being my friend because I couldn’t afford a proper birthday party for my birthday!

Talk about sad! I don’t need expensive things and gifts. I just need to enjoy myself!

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la,
I’m having fun now,
Singing away,
I’m having so much fun,

See, now to make my happiness complete, all I need is a friend

Dear person
Be my friend

T is for Tcarra

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…
Just like the ones I used to know…
Where the treetops glisten,
And children listen,
To hear, sleigh bells in the snow…

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…
With every Christmas card I write…

And I don’t know the rest…
So I’m just going to do my best…
So have a white Christmas.

I have to learn it for the nativity the school is doing. I’m in the school choir.
I’m doing a solo in this song and I really need to learn it!

You know, I have got friends. I just haven’t got supportive friends. And I need someone to help me practise the lines…

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…
Just like the ones I used to know…
Where the treetops glisten?
And I can’t listen…
To my voice singing out of tune…
As I don’t know the rest…

AND GOODBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!

U is for Ursilla

Hi my name is Ursilla Shimmifred. Two very weird names, don’t you think? I keep moving houses so I never get to make friends but now I’ve moved for good and we are staying in Dorchester so I need to make some proper friends. The thing is, people think I’m weird because of my name, I find it hard to fit in so my mum said to write in this book.
I hope I find a friend now, I hope this book helps. I’d really like a pen pal or any kind of friend really and then we can meet up.

I go to this club thing down the road to make new friends but it doesn’t help. People have already made friends and say they have a threesome. They won’t let anyone else join.

My mum goes as well. She talks to the mums. She thinks that she’s helping but she is not! Nobody can help me. Especially mum and dad who made me move and leave my friends behind!

Well, I just need a friend, I really need one and I don’t care who it is. I’ve done this fun pack and a certificate and everything ready for a friend. One girl just wanted the things I’ve made so now, if you’ve been my friend for 3 months then you can have the gifts and a special present!

But you have to be a true friend!




V is for Vanessa

I want to be a fashion model,
Posing all day long,
Have millions of friends,
And be invited to every one’s parties
So many parties,
I can’t go to all of them.
Or even
I just want to have friends
And be popular
Or even just a group of friends
And not be popular.
Any of them choices would be nice
All I need is a friend
A trusting friend
Who supports me
A best friend
To play with together everyday
And me
To be comfortable
And someone to help me with my homework
And me to help
See I’m not wishing for much,
Please make it come true…

No, I’m not wishing for much and nor is anyone else.
I think everyone should have a friend forever and everyone should the same amount of friends and we should all be just as popular. I don’t see why one person is more popular than another. We have a girl in our class called Ashlee Pickering who shows off because she thinks she’s so pretty. Well I think she’s very ugly with her long stupid blonde hair
And her huge blue eyes
And the big fat red lips of hers! He puts lipstick on them every morning and she has eye shadow on and everything. She told everyone that when she was older she was going to look like Jordan, you know, the girl with the huge boobs. Ashlee said she was going to have lots of plastic surgery and have millions of children and sleep with different men every night.
Talk about sad.
She thinks she’s it. And she has these two best friends called May Pristol and Kylie Bramcote. May has this ginger hair and lots of freckles. She’s always red in the face and she has these bloated cheeks with a big birthmark on the left cheek. May also has Leukaemia and is rarely at school but all of her hair isn’t on her head and she wears a blonde wig like Ashlee’s.
Kylie has this shiny brown hair and it turns golden when she’s standing in the sunlight. She has brown eyes and freckles on her nose. If you saw Kylie you’d think she’d be a very nice person but she’s really snotty and walks with her head up high. Ashlee and May have this really snotty look and they both have pinched noses. Kylie is quite a bit taller than them two but then Ashlee wears stilettos and so does May so they are the same height.
Yesterday Ashlee came round asking every girl if she was a virgin and when I asked Ashlee if she was one she said
‘No hon, I lost my virginity yesterday!’
Who did she do it with?

Anyway, I don’t know why I am talking about THEM. They’re not worth talking about.

Anyway, I think you know why I’m writing in this book.


P.S. Do you think Ashlee is pregnant?

W is for Winona

Yes! I was replying to Vanessa. I reckon Ashlee is pregnant.

Right, for this book, I have written a limerick but it’s not very good.

A girl called Winona wrote in this book,
Because she wanted to have a look,
Who were friendless,
And who were mendless,
And who were a very good cook.
By anon.

It means anonymous. Anonymous means you don’t know whom it’s by. I mean just because I put Winona down, doesn’t mean my name is Winona. My name could be Bella or Jess.

But this book isn’t about girl’s names. Is it?

I can’t exactly read very well.
The book is called “Want a friend” not “Want a name”.

I have to go now you see; I have to go Christmas shopping with my mum. I wish I could write more. When I get stuck in I write millions of pages. I’m going to be an author when I grow up.

An author with friends!
X is for Xara

Yep, my name is Xara.
I’ve got something to say to Queenie.

X is hard to write in an acrostic poem. I suppose I could write
Xara is my name
But that’s boring.
And, do you want to be my friend?

Well, does anyone want to be my friend, because you’re welcome too.

I wonder why,
Blue is the sky,
I wonder why
Face is blue!


Is the grass green?
Is the grass is mean?
Is the grass a queen?
Yet to be seen?
Or has it already been?
Has it been in a submarine?
In an aquamarine?


I don’t know why I did that. Probably because of Queenie.

I’ll try one of the things Nadia did…


Magnificent mum
Met my mad movie
Martin made.
Made mum mad.

Does that make sense?

You tell me!

Tell me.
I don’t know, what’s wrong with you guys out there?

Don’t tell me then!
Y is for Yasmine

Why couldn’t I have been called Jasmine?

Mind you, they are both horrible names.


Met Jasmine
On a fine summers day,
They brought some honey
And plenty of money.

Yasmine is the cat
Jasmine is the owl.

The owl and the pussycat went to sea
Jasmine and Yasmine went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat
In a beautiful sky blue boat
The took some honey and plenty of money
They took some money and plenty of honey.

Notice how I change the words round?


Yasmine has lots of friends,
Who all play together.
We will all be friends

We shout, we cry
Friendship we declare,
And the mayor
Of our city
Surely ain’t as witty
As people say he is!

Hark now here,
The angel’s sing
A new king born today,
A man will live forever more
Because of Christmas day…


Z is for Zoë

We have now reached the end of this book and who knows, maybe another one will come out.
It takes a long time to prepare a book. I know as I have made one and I am nearly ten!
I’m nine and 13/15.
So very nearly ten.
So haa! To all you ten-year-old writers.

Now, I need a new friend as you may have guessed, you guessed right.

So be my friend.

I’ll keep this short and snappy, as we don’t want a long conversation,

Be my friend!


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©2003-2011 Kids on the Net and the authors        Last revised 09-Jul-2011
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