Words

By Alisse, 11, Billings, Montana, USA

Words, words, they are interesting things.
Some like needles, others with wings.
Words can hurt and words can sting.
Words can fly and words can sing.
Some words are strawberries. Sweet, thoughtful, yet blind.
Others are diamonds. Rich but hard to find.
Some words are sharp, painful and shrill,
when others are senseless and set out to kill.
"Why do we use words?" someone might ask.
Some may use them for fun, others as a mask.
Words, words, they are interesting things.
Some like needles, others with wings.
(May 2007)

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Pursuing Liberty

By Hannah, 14, East Grand Forks, MN, USA

The sky was a beautiful shade of bright blue; the pure, cottony white clouds were scattered across the cerulean canvas and it felt as if the world and people around me disappeared. For just one second I felt as if I was free, that is until the all too familiar pain shot through my skin. The black leather of a whip became visible in my peripheral vision and I felt my body crumble to the dirt that was once beneath my feet.
I felt the same stinging agony when I tried to push my frail torso up by using my scrawny, dark arms. I quickly stood as straight as I could, which brought me face to face with the Master's son, Richard Freemont. His emotionless gaze made me flinch.
'Do I need to remind you, yet again, that you may not daydream instead of doing your work?'
'No, Sir.' You could've easily confused me for a field mouse when I talked to Richard.
'Get back to work, before you get yourself into more trouble.' He spat at me, before stomping off to harass other Negroes who he claimed were 'slackers who only wanted to sabotage the crops'. My eyes drifted to my left arm to see a crimson wound. I quickly went back to plucking fresh fruit from the orchards, trying to ignore the brutal pain resulting from the gash on my arm.
After a few more hours of sifting through plants it was finally time for rest. We all headed to the slave quarters. I was one of the last ones to enter the wooden domicile because I was too busy watching the now multi-colored sky turn darker shades of pink and orange. I wished that every human was like the sky; always changing colors so you wouldn't be able to enslave a person just because of the hue that their skin held.
When I entered the dark area I was met with the welcoming sensation of food and conversations. I smiled a little and headed to the far right cranny of the building, where I assumed my friend Bell would be. When I reached the corner of the room I was greeted with an empty bunk. Bell wasn't there. I squinted my eyes and scanned the room, yet I still couldn't find her.
'Molly! Molly!' My head snapped in the direction of the person who was calling my name. It was my brother, Timothy. I ran over to him, hoping he would have an answer to why my friend wasn't at her bunk.
'What happened to Bell?' I asked, tilting my head to one side. My dark curly bangs fell over my right eye. Tim brushed my hair back and smiled at me in a sympathetic way.
'I'm so sorry, Molly,' was all he said before walking away to the men's side of the room. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, people brushing past me every once in a while. Nessa Rose, a motherly figure to me, led me to my bed and gave me a little portion of food, telling me that I needed rest for tomorrow's trials. A few hours later when all eyes were closed and picturing beautiful images and dreams of freedom and deliverance, I was still wide awake. Bell should've been in the cot next to me, dreaming of the same optimistic views of everyone else. The whole nightfall I prayed.
I watched the sun rise through the rusted windows; I hadn't slept a wink at all last night. I sat up in bed and changed into my work rags, stuffing my stained, filthy night gown underneath the rickety, small bed. I climbed back onto the bunk and stared at the floor for a while until something caught my attention. There was a small hole on the floor between my bed and Bell's bed, some kind of parchment was sticking through the opening and I knelt on the floor quickly, pulling up the loose floorboard and retrieving the bit of tainted stationary with scribbled and sloppy writing on it. I knew it was Bell's because she had a fancy of collecting newspapers and would ask lessons from Delores, a slave who had been sold from a plantation which allowed her to learn the alphabet. I quickly ran over to Delores' bed and shook her awake.
'What d'you wants, child? Shouldn't you be 'n bed?' She grumbled, rubbing her eyes.
'I need you to read this.' I stated impatiently, thrusting the piece of paper in her hands. She squinted her eyes and read it aloud.
' 'Dear, Molly; I ran away and am hiding in the forest. Margaret is leading me to the Underground Railroad. I wanted to go first, without you so you wouldn't get in no trouble for my mistake if we was caught. If I make it, I'll tap on the window four times after everyone's sleepin' tonight. Don't worry 'bout me, I told Charlie to start a rumor sayin' that I was sold away. 'Member, four taps tonight!' ' Dolores finished reading, giving me a weak smile. I felt horrible for making her read a note about me getting away from this hell, while she would be stuck here for maybe the rest of her life.
'I'm sorry, Ma'am.' I said in a soft whisper. I felt her rough hand lift my chin up, forcing me to stare into her warm, chocolate brown eyes.
'Child, you have your whole life ahead o' you. Mine's gonna end soon, so there's not a lotta hope for me. You have to get away from this place and fight fer your freedom. Don't feel bad 'bout leavin' us behind. This is a gift from the Lord. You can't let guilt grab hold of you just 'cause your dreams have come true earlier than ours. We is all goin to a betta place after we're through with this one.' She smiled at me. I smiled back and right after I left her side, everyone else started getting ready for the day's work.
The day dragged on slowly. I tried my hardest not to day dream, but that's asking a lot of me. When the twilight appeared we all headed to the quarters for a meal and a few pleasant dreams. I spotted Timothy and realized I would have to tell him. I couldn't abandon him, though. I couldn't leave the only family member I had left.
'Molly, what's wrong? You look upset.' He inquired, handing me a plate of dinner. I pulled him aside from the crowd and began telling him about the Underground Railroad. He smiled when I told him that Bell was alright, but looked concerned after I finished informing him about the escape.
'You do realize that you could get caught?' Tim asked, lowering his voice. I nodded my head in response. He took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eye.
'I want you to be free, but this is risky, Molly. You could get killed if the Feds find you,' he pointed out. My eyes shifted to my feet and I didn't dare look at my brother.
'You need a better life than this, though. You need to be free.' Tim took a long pause and then continued. 'You have my permission. Remember that I love you though.' He stated softy. I smiled and I hugged him as tight as I could. My eyes started to water and I said the same thing back to him.
'I'm gonna miss you, Tim.' I said. He smiled at me and nodded, before walking off to his own bed. This would be the hardest night of my life.
A few hours after everyone was asleep, I heard rustling outside. My heart beat quickened and then I heard the four taps on the window to my left. I threw my covers off my body and pulled my leather bag that held a water canteen and extra food from my last dinner here. I put on my ratty boots and swiftly exited the Slave Quarters. I saw the dark silhouette of Bell and another of what I assume was Margaret. The chilly summer air tickled my bare arms and I watched the dark navy blue sky that was littered with sparkling stars for a moment before I crept into the thick woods. With one step, I ended my existence as a slave and gave birth to freedom, and the dawn of my life. (May 2007)

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My wish sister

By Georgia, 12, Queensland, Australia

Hi, my name is Georgia, but you can call me George. Now let me tell you a bit about myself. I have lots of friends. In fact so many friends that I sometimes get their names mixed up! Right now you're probably sitting there thinking well, what's the problem with that? WELL, I don't have a sister. I've wished and wished and tried so many things, but they just don't seem to work. But one night I was reading a book about stars and down the bottom was a title saying 'How to make your wish come true!' I read it as quickly as possible. It said if you want your wish to come true, wish on the first star in the evening - the evening star.

I looked out of my window. The evening star was disappearing. Maybe I was too late! I took a deep breath and thought as hard as I could about having a sister. Just then, something amazing happened - a little bright light shot out of the star and went right through my window and landed right on the top of my nose. I didn't know what to think. I looked around my room for a new sister, but was sadly disappointed.

I snuggled down in my warm bed and dreamt about what it would be like to have someone who would be your best friend for life - a sister of my own.
I had only just faded into my dream when something tickled me. I woke up. A little girl was sitting on the edge of my bed; she was probably only five or six years old. I was shocked and nearly fainted when she said,' Hello, my name is Emma, and I was sent here to be your little sister.'
'I see you're my little sister by the size you are!' I exclaimed.
'Yes, the wish that made me was not as clear as it could have been. I hope you're not upset about my size?' remarked Emma.
'Oh, no I'm not angry! I'm too happy to be angry!' I replied.

After I had made friends or should I say sisters with Emma, I asked, 'would you like to come to school with me tomorrow?'
'What's school?' asked Emma.
. 'Well, school is where children learn all sorts of stuff like maths.'I explained.
'What's maths?' Emma said.
'Maths is when you do sums using numbers.' 'What's maths and numbers?' she asked.
'Well orrrrrrrrrr ,' I yawned. 'I think it's time for bed.'
'Where do I sleep?' inquired Emma.
'Oh I haven't thought about that. Well you could sleep with me.' I replied.
'No, you might squash me!' laughed Emma.
'Maybe you could sleep in a match box.' I laughed.
'That's probably too small, but it's a good idea.' smiled Emma.
'I know the right spot! You can sleep in my doll's bed - if it's all right with them. Yes It's OK, you can sleep there. They said it's all right. Good night Emma.'
'Good night Georgia.' replied Emma.
'Wake up Emma! Wake up! It's time for school! Emma, Emma, stop hiding!'
I looked down into the doll's cot but Emma wasn't there. Lying, sparkling beneath the sheets was a beautiful star shaped locket. I felt terrible, had I done something wrong .I picked it up and gently opened it. Inside was a picture, of my little wish-sister and me. (March 2007)

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Hero

By Margo, 13, San Antonio, TX, USA

What makes someone a hero? Is it their muscles of steel or laser vision? Is it there good looks or popularity? No. To me, a hero is much more. It is being brave and selfless. It is making a difference.
At last, the phone call I had awaited all year! Thoughts of excitement swirled through my mind as I anxiously hung up the phone. I could barely contemplate the news that I had just received. My neighbor finally agreed that I was old enough to dogsit for her! Some of the greatest veterinarians in the world began their career as dogsitters! I was beaming with pride. Anticipation shook my body like a drug. I peered at the clock and plopped on my boots. The last thing I wanted was to be late for my first day on the job.
I approached my neighbor`s backyard, bubbling with elation. Just as I crept through the fence door, a gargantuan dog pinned my body to the ground with a pounce of sheer power. Scared and dazed, I staggered to my feet. To avoid getting discouraged, I quickly found a toy that I hoped would entertain the dog. `Do you want to play fetch?` I squawked playfully. The dog`s massive body squirmed as he wagged his tail in approval. Feeling more confident now, I hurled the toy across the lawn. It wasn`t long before I found myself throwing the toy again and again until we were both too tired to continue.
The dog had warmed up to me now, and was leading the way to a green, sagging bag of dog food. His eyes were intent as I shoveled mounds of unappealing nuggets into his enormous bowl. He hastily began to scarf down his food.
Now that the dog was busy eating, I sat back and closed my eyes. The Spring breeze tickled at my neck as speckles of sunlight danced upon my cheeks. Just then, my day dreams were clogged with a cork of uneasiness. I opened my eyes and peered nervously from the food bowl to the dog. The bowl was still full, but the dog was clearly in distress. I frantically skidded to his side in concern. I could hear him wheezing and whining in desperation. A prisoner to my own inexperience, I struggled to diagnose his symptoms. And then it hit me. Wheezing, shock, blood shot eyes - that`s it! He`s choking! I threw my arms around his belly and heaved with all my might. Again, and again, and again, I pulled and pumped at him. Before I knew it, two chunks of soggy food were hurled across the deck like a pair of scampering dice. Relief swept over my like a hurricane. The weight of my joyous tears was enough to pull me to the ground. The dog in which I had saved was now at my side, showering me with kisses.
I made my way toward the fence door before pledging a farewell to my new friend. I exited the yard with my chin and spirits high. At that moment, more than ever, I knew that having to wait another year to dogsit was well worth being able to save a precious life.
So what makes someone a hero? It`s not their good looks or big muscles. It is someone who puts their heart and soul into something they want to protect. When I saved that choking dog, I had to endure one of the hardest five minutes of my life. But with pursuit and patience, I was able to accomplish my goal. Now that`s what I call a hero.

(Feb 07)

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Lucky Pencil

By H.W., 12, Seoul, South Korea

It was last Wednesday when I first found my lucky pencil.
I was cleaning up after class, sweeping the floor with a broom, when the plain yellow pencil on the floor caught my eye.
It was just an ordinary pencil, but it was a reasonable length, and since I was short on pencils then, I picked it up, and slipped it in my pencil case.
I went home as usual with my best friend James. The big test was in four days, so we had no time to play today. We said our goodbyes and went on home.
Throwing my bag on the floor, I sat down on my desk. Taking out my pencil case, I got my schoolbooks out and started studying.
That's when I remembered that we had Social Studies homework. There wasn't much time left, so I panicked. The worksheet wasn't too hard, but it was soon time for my martial arts class. I scribbled as fast as I could on it with the pencil I picked up in the classroom. I thought the answers were pretty stupid, but I shoved the sheet into my bag and went off to martial arts class.

The next day our teacher made us hand in our homework. I looked at my sheet in dismay, thinking of the low mark I'd get. But I had no choice, anyway, and handed the sheet in.
The teacher handed out the marked worksheets after lunch. I sqeezed my eyes shut as the paper landed on my desk. When I looked, I couldn't have been more surprised. A bright red A was smiling up at my stunned face. James looked equally surprised. I couldn't have missed his red C.

The pencil's luck didn't end. I summited a drawing to a contest using the pencil, and surprisingly, it won third place. Three tests using the pencil, all A's.
But soon trouble arose. No matter how careful I was with the pencil, it became shorter and shorter from use. I couldn't help sharpening the pencil regularly, it was annoying to write with a blunt pencil. I was worried, as I knew this couldn't go on.
It was the day of the big test. I reached into my pencil case for my lucky pencil, but panic arose in my chest when I saw that the pencil was no more than a nub. The eraser was flat, having had its last rub long ago.
Taking a deep breath, I took another ordinary pencil, and took the test.

The next day I was surprised once more. I had still got an A on the test! That's when I realized the truth: It was me and not the pencil, without a doubt. I felt so lucky to have found that out. All along, the pencil hadn't been lucky at all, it was me who did all the work and got all those A's.
I felt truly lucky.
(Feb 07)

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Sally the sea horse

By Zoe, 8, Leeds, UK

Once...well last week me and my brother Adam went to Blackpool to see Blackpool lights. Here is my story:
It was sunday and Blackpool beach was so empty you could fit about 40 elephants on the sand. Me and Adam ran down to the sea Adam passed me my snorkle and we dived into the cool sea. Suddenly I saw a sea horse and swam after it. The sea horse led me to...a starfish!
The starfish whistled and a dolphin, a jelly fish and an eel came round the corner.
"Sally, who is this human" asked the dolphin.
"I don`t know" answered Sally the seahorse.
"I'm Zoe" I said.
The eel invited us into her cave and we had tea and sharks eyes. Then Sally took me to the coral and showed me round.
"Zoe, time to go" Shouted Adam.
"Bye Sally" I said.
The end.
(January 2007)

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Someone special

By Crystal, 14, Ipswich, UK

For the first time in my life
I have a role model
I have a mother
a mother who shares
a mother who cares
someone I can talk to when I'm down
tell her what I'm thinking about

I've never had this before
I never had someone who cares
who tells me its alrite to be scared

She has three of her own
hasn't done it easy
but still let me in
gave me a roof over my head
made sure I didn't end up dead

There is no way I could tell her
how much she has helped
no way thank you is enough
she is the most beautiful person on the earth
I couldn't have chosen some one better to stay with

For the first time in my life
I can say I'm home and mean it
I can say I'm happy
and people can believe it...
(October 2006)

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Kingdom of Blossoms

By Annie, 13, Northborough, Massachusetts, USA

Inside the house, my palace:
A door lies between.
It opens to me -
I am a royal Queen and her party;
Wearing my regal accessories:
Garden gloves, wide-rimmed hat,
And my scepter, my gardening rake.
Trumpets blare at my arrival;
The royal gates, my kitchen door, opens to me.
My kingdom is of flora and fauna;
I greet each bush or daisy with
A gentle touch, a glance, a kiss
And I shower them with
Love and affection.

After all, what is a gardener than
A Queen to her Kingdom of Blossoms?
(October 2006)

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Prejudice

By Annie, 13, Northborough, Massachusetts, USA

You see a girl - isolated.
Her skin is different, her hair is different,
She speaks an alien tongue.
What do you do?
Will you ignore her, in fear of change,
Of someone who is not the same?
Will you speak cruelty,
Taunting her skin, mocking her complexion
And her differences in a uniform world?
Or will you accept her - offering friendship,
Kindness, and companionship,
As you should?

We are humans: we are scared.
We are afraid of difference,
And to cover it, we harden our hearts.
But what is gained?
What is accomplished,
On this earth filled with differences?

Look past the mask of coloration, hair and skin.
I see a beautiful heart, of purity and innocence;
I see a diverse heritage,
A varied history behind those cool, calm eyes.
I see a blossoming rose of friendship,
Whose seeds of love will blow in the wind,
Spreading those seeds to all the earth
And blocking out the weeds of prejudice.

When you look at that girl,
What do you see?
(October 2006)
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Trip to a mysterious Island

By Marius, 7, Freeport, Illinois, USA

I stepped out of a elevator and found myself on skull island. There were huge dinosaurs. The dinosaurs tried to get me but I was to fast on the vines. In the forest you could not see through one single tree because they were so thick. The island should have sunk years ago but the dinosaurs are still there today. The insects on Skull island are as big as people. The swamp is filled with danger because there are things that come up and get you. There is a wall that keeps danger out. We are getting closer to the secret of Skull island. The secret of Skull Island is that the huge ape roars. The hot breath of the ape comes out and all you here is another roar. This is the time that I ran to the boat. The boat is surrounded by a deep curtain of fog. On most maps Skull island is not on. When I got off the boat from this long journey, I ended up in Madagascar. I got all my food from the rainforest.
(August 2006)

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Caught in the shadow

By Avanti, 16, India

Having a key to the door that won't open is frustrating especially if the key is in my dreams and the door is in reality and it's not very often that the two worlds meet. That feeling haunts me and makes me wonder if I could ever get to a point in my life where I belong and where I truly want to be. I don't want to wallow in ignorance of reality for the rest of my life; but when the reality partially seems like a dreadful dream, all I can do is dream of what reality could be. Lying helpless in the hands of fate is what the regret's all about at the end; knowing everything could have different if the truth was not over shadowed by judgments and expectations.
Being caught in the crazy cycle of the fear of acceptance and boundaries has always been the reason for people to follow patterns even the ones that they don't understand. Most of such people nearing the end of their journey have to rudely accept the regret of living in ignorance which they swore they'd never do, but life has its twists and turns of events and unfortunately they strike to be different people altogether. Most of the time this makes me think and believe that I would be better off in places where identity and judgments wouldn't be at my tail and I could be whoever I wanted to be without getting badgered with the perceptions others have of me. The questions in life for everyone are the same just like a test but the answers are all up to us; either write them by the book or just write it your way but at the same time making sense of it is important.
Breaking free from the chains, finding a way back to light is the answer if I ever want to feel my soul living, which in a way is to feel the unlimited forces of joys and sorrows which otherwise don't seem to curb me emotionally. So I am working on this 'piece' called life and hoping it could be a masterpiece of truth, consideration of oneself and others, and by that, also hope to create a lasting and sustainable end to this journey. I am just waiting for a windy day to break free and just blow away to a real world of dreams.
(July 2006)

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Aids

By Akeela, 12, Cape Town, South Africa

She gets shattered like a petal that blows up above
She feels nor hatred nor love
The truths the worst but it was what she had to find
She has stopped thinking she has no mind
She is use to rejection
Its nothing new
Her love has crippled
Her spirit too
Her hope and faith
Seem a long way
Peace has been taken away
Her souls been invaded
Her confidence gone
she feels guilty
She feels wrong
Her courage has silenced
Memories shut out
She has nothing more to talk about
She is upset
Her life has filled
She stands alone,because her friendship is killed
She walks around
Without a care
Her greatest enemy
Is not disease but despair
(July 2006)

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Hide and Seek

By Mahek, 13, Woking, Surrey, UK

Chapter 1

The students in the science tower circled around the window. Written on the windows with blood were the words:

You may run or hide,
But we will get you.

'I wonder what those words mean,' Lilia De La Cour said. Lilia was a rebel in her school. Everyone knew she was the number one enemy of Roxy Allen, the most popular girl in the school.
'A zombie has come from the future to party with us,' Nikki joked.
Ricky Turner walked up to the girls. 'This is serious you two and it is something you shouldn't joke about. The teachers are worried because something like this happens every thirteen years and they sometimes get forced to close the school down. When something like this happened about forty years ago; the school was closed down for 19 years,' Ricky went on.
Miss Carter walked into the science corridor and tried to get through the crowd of people around the window.
'Lilia De La Cour, how are you? Going to sort this mystery out now are you?' Roxy said
Lilia turned to find Roxy.
'What do you want?' Lilia asked.
'Why would I want something from you?' Roxy said.
'Because you have no brain, I'm going,' Lilia said. Lilia walked out of the science block with a huge smile on her face.
The school bell rang through the halls of Clarence High School. School was over.
Lilia switched her laptop on and started to surf the net.
'Come on, there has to be something about the records of our school,' muttered Lilia.
The door opened and Lilia's mum walked in.
'What are you doing up here. I thought you would be at one of your friend's places?' Tanya asked.
'Yeah well something went on in school which wasn't a good thing so I thought I should come home,' Lilia muttered, scrolling down the page.
Tanya walked out of her daughter's bedroom as if nothing had gone wrong in the past few minutes.
Lilia carried on scrolling down the page until she came to a page link which she found interesting. It had pictures of Clarence High School at the times when strange things were going on.
All of a sudden, Lilia's door opened and nearly fell off its hinges.
'Lilia!' Nikki screamed.
Lilia jumped and turned round to see her best friend standing at the door, 'What happened?' Lilia shouted.
'We have to do something about what's happening in school!' said Nikki.

Chapter 2

'I can't believe that I'm doing something that would get us expelled,' Lilia whispered. Lilia climbed through the window and found herself in the Religious Education department.
'Midnight,' Nikki said.
'What are we even doing here?' Ricky asked.
'Okay. We're going to do a seance in the science tower, find out what that message meant and get out as soon as we can,' Nikki said.
Lilia, Ricky and Nikki ran to the science tower only to find that the message was still on the wall.
'I thought the teachers would've cleaned it off,' Ricky said looking surprised.
'We have to hurry, we don't have much time,' Lilia said.
Lilia and Nikki took the ouija board out and started to chant.
As they were chanting they didn't realise that Roxy had followed them into the school. Roxy was hiding in a corner trying to make sure she wasn't seen.
'What on earth is going on,' Roxy said to herself.
The school had a time portal in it and every thirteen years and if someone walked into the time portal, they would get stuck inside and won't be able to get out; the time portal would be open forever.
A few spirits came out of the time portal and started to circle Lilia, Nikki and Ricky. Roxy couldn't see the spirits but the others could.
A strong gust of wind rushed passed them and they all opened their eyes.
'There are evil spirits here!' Nikki screamed.
At these words, Roxy got scared and ran into the time portal to get away from the spirits. She did not know her fate to be.
'We have to get out of here!' screamed Nikki.
The time portal started to get bigger and the science tower go windier as the seconds passed. Streaks of blood started to appear out of the time portal and more spirits stared to appear. The spirits were made of light and had fangs with blood in their mouths.
Lilia, Ricky and Nikki ran as fast as they could out of the science tower.

Chapter 3

Blood started to appear on the walls as the three teenagers ran out of the school.
Screams could be heard and the lights in the classrooms and corridors started to switch in and off continuously.
The air was getting colder and Lilia started to feel a sharp pain in her chest. The air was starting to get misty and outside the window was a heavy fog.
Lilia closed her eyes and could see a graveyard and on a gravestone she saw the name Roxy Allen. She had just seen a premonition but what did it mean.
Lilia lost her breath and fainted.
'Nikki, stop! Lilia fainted,' Ricky shouted.
However Nikki didn't hear and carried on running. Ricky picked Lilia up and tried to get out of there as fast as they could. When he got to the main gate he looked behind and saw the deserted corridors. He knew the school was going to close down. He was going to miss Clarence High School.
The three survived and never told anyone about what had happened. The school was closed down and the students of Clarence High School went to another school in the next town.
Most of the kids, especially Nikki, Lilia and Ricky moved to a town a few miles away.
The ouija board was left in the school and is still there. The school is still haunted and the blood is still on the walls.
Roxy is still missing and no one knows of her terrible fate. She was sucked into a parallel universe and will never get out, unless someone calls upon her.
The message

You may run or hide,
But we will get you.

is still there in the science block and will remain there forever. If anyone dares enter then they will not get out. Lilia, Ricky and Nikki were lucky to get out of the school but no one else will have enough luck to escape the Clarence High School spirits again.

The End
(June 2006)

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The beetle and the dragon fly

By Alim, 8, London , UK

Once upon a time, there was a thirsty little beetle, who was searching for water, he had traveled a long way from his house to find water, he came across a big lovely fountain, the beetle was a little scared because the fountain was too high to climb. He came up with an idea of how to reach the fountain, he got to the top of the fountain and as he was about to sip the water, he suddenly fell into the water, he cried out "Help somebody help me please I need help I am going to drawn."
There was a dragon fly passing by and heard a loud noise coming from the fountain so he went up the fountain to see what was going on, he saw the beetle in the water and he rescured him from drawing. There were people who were looking for insects, and they saw the dragon fly and the beetle, they caught the dragon fly. The beetle was very angry and sad, so he decided to help the dragon fly, he bit the people who was holding the dragon fly, and they let the dragon fly go.
The dragon fly and the beetle became best friends
THE END
(June 2006)

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The last of the dragon tears

By Maria , 14, Sheffield, UK

The waves of the ocean gently rolled by as Denisya sat one the beach, the sky was pink, streaked with orange, but no birds were singing. She was waiting for something, and was constantly scanning the sky for any sign of it.
Suddenly it was there, a long, snake like shape soaring in the skies!!!! Then it landed, a majestic dragon the size of two elephants sat crouched on the sand. Denisya backed away so not to be seen, but then realised what it was doing.
As she came closer, she could see every bronze and silver coloured scale on its back, its huge leathery wings folded, its golden eyes half shut. This was not the dragon she had seen last week, she had been shot down, and it was said that she had been the last of all the dragons, that they were now all gone. But now it seened that not all had perished, not this one.
A silver tear trickled down its cheek, and onto the sand. the dragon lay its head gently beside the tear. Denisya just stared in amazment as the dragon drew its last breath, then closed its eyes. It stopped breathing, and Denisya new that she had witnesed the last dragon's death, the last af all dragons.
She crept towards it, and touched its scaly head, it felt cold as ice, and Denisya shivered. Gently, she bent down and saw a silver tear shaped objeact, she picked it up... it was the last of the dragon tears, a piece of pure silver that dragons let fall when they died.
Slowly, Denisya walked away, pocketing the tear, walking away from the beach, away from the
very
last
dragon.
(May 2006)

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Ignorant man

By Danilo, 11, Doune, Scotland

I sit alone,
It seems so dark,
I'm wishing the truth was stark,
What is this feeling inside me?

I am everything and anything. A swirling void of thought, spinning endlessly, so used, they are like a piece of glass smoothed over by the seas delicate touch. I only vaguely remember the sea, a big thing, wearing a different colour every day. Raging temper though, the big fellow had. I can't remember where I recognise the sea from. I don't even know where the word came from. I have no memory apart from these grubby things that surround me, the shadows call them walls. The shadows call me Maskie. They say my mother and father dumped me here. 'That's not true,' I shout, even though I'm not too sure. After all to me mother and father don't mean anything; I don't know what they are. I only partly understand the language that I speak. I am ignorant of myself. I sit at the 'wall', scraping poems of who I am? or what am I? All day, every day for the whole of my existence, well, I'm not sure I even exist, as Maskie.

One day the shadows caught me scraping a poem on the wall. They slithered along the floor, after seeping in through a hole in the wall the pure, cold, ruthless hate pouring into my body. They tortured me that day, just by ripping things out of my head that should have remained deep inside the endless pit of my confusion.

Yes, which is just what I am, an endless pit of confusion. That is the real truth, however harsh it may be. That is what the shadows do, sleep beside you, at the time the bulb above me goes out, and whisper horrible gasps of sadness into you. They make you a non-existent scrap, a number in their limp lives, a statistic. I would tell you what the shadows are like but that is just it, I am no more aware of what they are like, than I am aware of who Maskie really is.

I see them,
I see them pour in,
I see the inevitability,
Of shutting off the thing behind the mask,
The mask of not knowing,
That restricts me from escaping,
I am caged,
Tied,
By ropes of ignorance.
I am not sure of the convoluted truth.
I only know four of the white walls surrounding me.

What do these words mean?
May I ask, where did they come from?
The shadows. I cannot be sure where they came from.
Me. I cannot be sure where I came from.
The shadows. They say there's a way out.
Me. I do not know the way out.
It is a sin, being stuck in the things that circulate inside you.
I have no recollection of feeling. I only know the word, it is just a faint tint of a past, broken memory that I cannot remember very well. I do not know what anything is, not even myself.
I live but I do not live.
I know but then again I do not know.

The shadows make my life so horribly repetitive. My life is like a piece of blank paper. My blank paper has been stained with the blood-shed of ignorance. Knowing nothing is better than not knowing. If you know my justification for saying that you will agree.

The shadows,
They send hate shuddering through whatever is behind my mask until even if what's past these walls is blackness, revolving endlessly in a loop with no beginning or end, is better than being with them.
(May 2006)

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Smartfellas

By Danilo, 11, Doune, Scotland

Battle of the Classes

There is no right nor wrong to it, it just depends on which side you are on really, although they do cheat all the time. It's nobody's fault, it just happens and that's it, each class just clashes.

There are allies and double-crossers, clever bigshots who get their cronies to do their dirty work, negotiators and foot-soldiers.

You've heard of battle of the planets? Now there is ..BATTLE OF THE CLASSES!!
PREPARE YOURSELF.

The Beginning

There has always been aggro between P7 and P6 in Doune Primary School - well, as far as I could remember anyway - but it had always been kept under control until...

One roasting day in July just recently, on the village green it was four o'clock and it was the seventh day of our summer holidays.

Business at the sweet stall was running low and the total profits came to £1.20, barely enough to buy 4 liquorice strips and 20 cola bottles to share among the 13 of us in the P6 Doune Lads, the most feared gang in all of central Doune. The sun dug into our backs like daggers.

Red Stripes and Bobo had gone home for tea, leaving just eleven of us in our "lads hut" as we liked to call it. "Hoi, boys, let's go to Mr Harrod's and see if heýs got our SECRET HOARD ready yet", Don Al said in a cool, boastful voice. Don Al was second in charge of the Doune Lads and he had helped in various projects that had made me, Don Dan, the most famous gang leader ever in the Doune underworld.

Just as I had decided to go down to Mr Harrod's. I heard the bell ringing in the high section of the tree. Immediately everyone was up, moving into the positions given to them on the main platform. The hut was made up of four platforms and a wooden ladder.

"Alright, everyone remain in position except you two, the Ravioli brothers. I want you to warn the lookouts and collect our waterpistols and other weapons," I shouted over the din the bell was making.

"Sure thing, boss!"

I knew who was approaching our headquarters, I knew what they were up to, and I didn't like it one bit.

The P7s

As the P7 gang approached our territory, we were ready for battle. I knew that was not what they were here for, but I wasn't taking any chances.

The P7 leader was a very scary person, and probably the second best gang leader in Doune. His name was Harry Senpa, his code name was Crusha. His face was just as ugly as his code name. It wore a mirthless, toothless grin.

His dirty jeans and ripped t-shirt sat on bulging muscles. He lacked only one thing that I had: brains.

I was snapped out of my daydream by Crusha's squeaky voice. "Hoi, you, Harrod has spilt the beans about your SECRET HOARD." A ripple of laughter spread through the P7 gang. His little joke seemed to impress them.

"We'll never tell you where our SECRET HOARD is, never!" Don Al said in a raging voice.

I considered our options. "No, wait a second, Al." "Alright, we'll give you what you want: the Mafia way. Ten o'clock this evening. Be there or be square."

"You'd better not be tricking me, Don Dan, because if you are, if you are, I'll personally... Crusha was cut off in mid-speech by a pain in his head. The pain happened to be the branch that he had just walked into.

The Battle

It was precisely ten o'clock at the meadows near the river. The moon sat in the sky, a gleaming, brilliant spectator. The water made a soft swishing noise, like a never ending whisper of knowledge. The sky was a lightish bluey-green.

Each side turned up in black, the P7s arriving from the south side, the Doune Lads from the north. Me and Al were watching this from Macker's Hill, sipping slowly at two glasses of American Cream Soda.

"So, Al, what do you think of our plan?" I asked in a thoughtful voice. "We'll pull it off, don't worry. That dimbo Crusha will never guess what our real SECRET HOARD is", I laughed. I then watched the rest of the battle.

Fairycakes

And that's how the battle between P7 and the Doune Lads of P6 kicked off. The fighting has stopped now and, just when it looked like a victory for the P7s, we sprung a nasty surprise on them.

My plan came to a head one grey, rainy day at the house of Don Al's neighbour, Mr Harrod, where I was making the final changes to my homework copying club. There was a loud knock on the door and when I went to answer I got an ugly (literally) surprise. It was Crusha, and he was furious!

"You little worm, you toad, you gave me a box of paper, not your SECRET HOARD." He chewed on every word, spitting them out like he couldn't stand the taste.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Crusha." I tried to sound confused. He went an even deeper red in the face and grabbed me by the throat. What could I do? Crusha was going to make me as ugly as him.

So I put the final piece of my plan into action. "Ok, ok, I give up. I'll give you what you want."

He gave me a look that said "I'm not that stupid" and opened his mouth.

I cut in. "S-E-R-I-O-U-S-L-Y," I said slowly. I had to admit when it came to the crunch I couldn't match Crusha's firepower. I gave up, I could never have beaten him.

Crusha was well chuffed with the SECRET HOARD. He was beaming and bragging about how good a leader he was. He opened the cardboard box and started munching the lovely fairycakes inside.

I retreated to the house just as he started foaming at the mouth and turned green. I really should have watched, but I wanted to enjoy the real SECRET HOARD: a stash of Belgian truffles. The nausea and foaming would go on for an hour or so, just enough for him to learn his lesson.

Did I mention that Mr Harrod was a scientist and was working on nauseating fairycakes for MI5? What was that little word I mentioned earlier? Was it "brains"?
(May 2006)
More from Danilo of Doune

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1666 (Haiku)

By Jesse and Curtis, , Bournemouth, UK

Fire flickering,
Flame crashing, houses sparkling.
I'’m really worried.
(May 2006)
More "fiery" haiku from Bournemouth

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Icicle

By Maxine, 17, Scotland

Snap.
So clean in my hands.
It dissolves the light,
Prismatically.

Magic, changeable.
The warmth of my hands destroys it.
Handled by a silk glove, delicate.
Fluid and pure; I cannot grasp it.
(May 2006)

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REMEMBER (Inspired by Alan Jackson)

By Class poem, 14-15, Le Havre, France

Where were you when the world stopped turning?
I was at school, I was learning.
Where were you when New York started burning?
I was here in my classroom. I was learning.

That day in September
We shall all remember.

Did you hear the news on the radio?
Did you see the pictures that the TV showed?
Did you watch the Twin Towers fall?
Now we shall never see them at all.

What were you doing when the world stopped turning?
I was sitting in my classroom, listening and learning.
What were you doing when New York started burning?
I was living far away while others were dying.
I was laughing and singing while others were crying.
We shall always remember the ninth of September
Remember, Remember, Remember.
(July 2005)

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