Bad Days Gone Good

I had to write a short story for English involving a homeless person, a forest, and moving schools. And this is what I came up with.

My name is Elaine Jones. I am 11 years old. I live with my mother in a tent in a forest just outside of the local town. People say we are ‘homeless,’ but this home is just as good as any other home, at least to us anyway.

We used to live in a proper house with a roof over our heads. We weren’t exactly wealthy back then anyway. And when mum and dad got divorced, things turned for the worse. Mum got fired from her job at the supermarket, I started to get bullied at school, and then some drunken idiot sets our front lawn on fire. We lost everything. The house, our photos, memories; everything was destroyed. Mum believes it was dad who lit the fire, just to get his revenge on mum. The government is no help. They won’t lend us any money to buy a new house because somehow they believe that we purposefully lit the fire. I’m not quite sure how all of that works, but now we are forced to live in this tent. Mum has tried getting a job, but so far she has had no luck.

Last week, mum and I made a trip into town so mum could go to an interview for yet another job that she probably wouldn’t get anyway. While I was waiting for her, I started singing. I sing when I’m bored, happy, sad, whenever really. There was this man there too. He was wearing a suit and looked very wealthy. I didn’t notice he was staring at me until I finished singing, and when I did, he started clapping. I thought it was really odd. He came and sat next to me and told me that he worked at a big school for people who are musically gifted. “If you wanted to come, and if it is okay with your parents, you would be very welcome there,” he said.
“But we don’t have any money,” I explained. “We can’t even afford to live in a house. We have to live in a tent.”
His smile dropped. He pulled out his phone and called someone who I presume worked at the school. He got out of his seat and walked outside to talk. He was there for a while too. He came back in just as mum came out with a disappointed face. She didn’t get the job. Yet again.
“Hello, Mrs…” he said while putting his hand out to her.
“Miss Jones,” she said while shaking his hand.
“My name is Harvey Crouch, ” he said, “and let me say, Miss Jones, I heard your daughter singing just before, and she has a gift. We would like to offer her a place at our school.”

“Sorry, we can’t afford it,” mum says.

“You don’t have to pay,” he continues, “I just got off the phone with the principal, and he has offered you a scholarship.”

Wow, a scholarship! Mum asks me to leave the room while they talk, so I go outside and watch a lady throw bread to the birds. After a while, mum comes out and explains to me that I will be able to go to school.

When the first day of school arrives, mum wakes me up really early. We pick out the best of my clothes, have something to eat and wait for Mr. Crouch to arrive in his car and take me to the school. I am so nervous. No one liked me at my old school. I had virtually no friends. And who’s to know if this will be the same?

When he eventually arrives, I say goodbye to mum and get in the car. The ride takes at least an hour. I sing for most of the time. I see a very big building in the distance. It looks really old and spooky. Is this the school? My question is answered as Mr. Crouch parks the car outside of it. There are actually lots of buildings, all looking just as old. I get out of the car and large groups of people walk out of the big building. I can see that inside it is some sort of hall. They point and laugh at me. That’s not a good sign. I start to walk the direction they do, but Mr. Crouch instructs me to one of the smaller buildings in the opposite direction.

First we go see the principal, a very old looking man. The whole time we were there, I could feel him watching me. I am asked to sing to him. I sing a song that mum used to sing to me when I was little. He looks just as amazed as Mr. Crouch looked, and welcomes me to his school.
I am then taken to yet another building. When I enter, everyone’s heads turn to stare at me as I sit down. Mr. Crouch introduces me before leaving. The class continues singing some old folk song that was actually really simple, and just after a few verses I have picked up and am singing like I’ve known it for years.

When the bell goes for break, a girl approaches me and introduces herself as Marsha. I spend the break with her. She seems very nice, and we have a lot in common. Her parents were divorced too; only she lives with her dad. And she likes to sing as well. We even share the same birthday! I get a rush of excitement at the thought that maybe I am finally making a friend.

When Mr. Crouch comes to pick me up after school, I tell him all about my day. When we arrive back home, mum runs to the car and embraces me in a hug. I tell her all about Marsha and what I did at school, and she tells me that she has something to tell me as well. We wave goodbye as Mr. Crouch drives off, before sitting down outside the tent.

“Elaine, I went to another job interview today,” she says, delight spreading across her face.

“Did you get it?” I say hopefully. She nods. Wow! Finally we will be able to have some money! And maybe eventually we will be able to pack this tent up for good and live in a proper house! Maybe things are beginning to look up for us two.

Haunted Love

This story is my entry to the YPRL Short Story Competition 2011. 
I live in a small town. Not too many people live here, because it is said that the old Montagu house that stands on the far side of town is haunted. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, but I don’t really believe in ghosts or spirits. I can see it from my bedroom window, and when I was little, I used to be afraid to fall asleep, because I felt like it was watching me.
Mum told me about the Montagu family. “Arthur and Esme Montagu were the kindest of folk, according to my mother,” she had said. “It was quite unfortunate, they had just bought a lovely new house, and they were especially impressed by the beautiful roses in the garden. Arthur worked as a horse-and-cart-driver. He was the equivalent of taxi driver now-days, but this was a long time ago. Anyway, one day, he was taking a mother and her son somewhere, and oh, that boy was a bit of a troublemaker. He was playing tricks on the horse, and the horse got very scared. It started running, and the cart somehow unlatched itself from the horse. Arthur fell to the ground, and well, the horse… trampled him.

“Esme was very upset over the death of her husband, and so she locked herself in the house. She had always been out in the garden, looking after her beautiful roses, but after that day, all the flowers withered, and no one saw Esme again. Some say she died in that house. Oh, the poor women…” Mum doesn’t believe that there is anything in that house.

The boys next door to me told me they were dared to stay the night there. They couldn’t stay an hour, because they were too scared. They said they heard an ear-piercing scream saying, “Get out! Get out! How dare you come into my house?” They’ve never even looked at the house since then; and they were the kind of people who boast about not being scared of anything at all.

“Justin! Eric!” I call out to the boys one morning, as I go outside to collect the newspaper. They were sitting out on the lawn; they seemed to be shaking with fear. I ran over to them. “Guys, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!”

“We have,” they cried in unison. I didn’t know how to react to this. They had always been making up lies to get me scared about ghosts and demons.

“You’ve used that one before,” I say in a stern voice. “I’m not going to fall for your tricks again.”

“We’re being serious Laura,” Eric yells. “There was a ghost in our bedroom. It was the same one we saw at that creepy, haunted house!”

“Ghosts and spirits don’t exist!” I argue with them for the millionth time. “I’m not going to fall for your stupid lies anymore!”

“We’re not lying!” They shout at me. I can see tear stains on Justin’s cheeks, and his eyes are quite red.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “I’m not saying I believe you, but maybe, there was. What do we do about it?”

“Laura, stop it!” Justin cries. “Ghosts are real, I’ve seen them with my own eyes! If you don’t believe me then maybe you should stay a night at that creepy old house!”

“Maybe I will,” I scream, “and I’ll prove that ghosts aren’t real, but you two will have to come with me.”

“Why?” Eric yells. “Because you’re scared?”

“Of what?” I say. “I’ll need you with me so you don’t think I’m lying anymore when I say that there is no such thing as ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you want to call them!

“And if I can stay there an entire night – unlike you two did – then you two have to give up this supernatural nonsense for good!”

“Fine,” Eric yells. “But if you don’t, which you’re not, then you have to admit that there is such a thing as the supernatural, and there is a ghost living in that house!”

“You’re on,” I say, shaking hands with both of them. “We meet at the house tonight. If I don’t stay there the entire night, you win. If I do, then I win. Fair and square, right?”

I wander into the front garden that night and see the two boys already walking up to the house. They see me and stop for me to catch up to them. I fling my sleeping bag over my shoulder and we make our way to the Montagu house.

It’s scarier up close. The garden surrounding it – which sounds like it must have been magnificent in its day – was dead and black. Old tree branches were swaying in the wind, and the looked like skeleton fingers, just about to pick me up and through me away from this terrible place. I’ll admit, maybe I was a little bit scared. But I refused to admit that to Justin and Eric.                         

I raised my hand to open the door handle, but the door swung open by itself. “Uh, it was the wind,” I quickly say. Justin and Eric were already shaking. I stepped into the house, and Justin and Eric followed me very closely. We were barely in the house when the door slammed shut behind us. The house was very big and quite beautiful, but was full of dust and was not in a good state at all. There was a huge chandelier above us as we stepped into what must have been the living room area. We took a few minutes to look around before the room began to shake. It started off gently but got bigger by the second. The chandelier was shaking abruptly, and before we had time to think, it was falling. Thankfully the room was very tall and we had barely enough time to run out of the way of the chandelier before we heard it come crashing down. The whole house was still rapidly shaking, and everything was being flung everywhere.

When I first heard it, I thought it was one of the boys. But once I listened, I could hear the heartbreak in their voice. “Were you the ones who caused my husbands death?” Screamed the ear-piercing voice of Esme Montagu. The boy’s screams were so load that I lost my hearing for a few seconds. They fled out of the house, screaming louder than ever before.

“No! I didn’t do it! I swear I had nothing to do with your husbands death!” I yelled. I span around, trying to see anything at all that could have been the cause of the wicked, cold, heartbroken voice.

“You lie!” I shrieked again. The house shook more furiously, but all doors and windows seemed to have vanished. I was trapped.

“I’m innocent,” I cry. “Please, just let me go! I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why are you breaking into my home? You must pay for what you have done! You must be punished!”

“I didn’t do anything! Please! I’m just trying to prove something to my friends! But I am obviously wrong, so I will be leaving now…” I tried to find a door or something to exit this horrible place from, but I was blocked.  I began to cry. “Please, I don’t know what it is like to lose someone so close to you, but you have got to face the facts. He is gone, and so are you. You’re just a ghost who hasn’t yet entered their afterlife. The person responsible for your husband’s death is probably already long gone. You’ve got to let go of the past and go on into the future. Trust me, it’s what Arthur would’ve wanted.” The house stopped shaking; everything went quiet.

“Esme, please,” I whispered.

Before my very eyes, the house seemed to piece itself together. The broken chandelier rose into the air and resembled before right in front of me. All the broken plates and dusty books flew back to where they were originally. The house became brighter and happier, like it must have been back in its day. A figure appeared before me. A woman who looked like she must have been in her late 30’s was smiling at me. Esme Montagu was more beautiful than I imagined.

“Thank you,” she said. “I am sorry for all that I have done. You are right. Our time has passed, and I must let go and continue into the future.” A single rose appeared in the palm of her hand. She handed it to me. Another figure appeared next to Esme, and together, Arthur and Esme walked arm-in-arm into the light that lead them to their afterlife.

The house returned into its dull, old self, and everything was normal. I smelt the rose that the ghost of Emse Montagu had given me as walked into the cold night, preparing to admit that the supernatural is real, and that even after death, love lives on forever.

Trick or Treat: A Halloween Tale

The sounds of children filled the air as Luke and Mary-Anne skipped out of their house dressed in their scariest costumes and carrying their pumpkin shaped bags ready to be filled with sweets and candy.

The streets were filled with children running from house to house yelling "Trick or Treat!' and demanding sweets. They waved goodbye to their mother, and set off down the street.

Their first 'victim' greeted them with a smile and gave them enough candy to last a week. The children thanked the neighbour - who was busy satisfying other customers - but were not satisfied with the amount of candy she had given them. They ran to the next house.

A young man answered the door and politely gave the two children a large paper bag filled with sweets each. The children were overwhelmed with his generosity and thanked him very much. They then noticed that most of the other children walking around also has been given a large paper bag from the man.

"Well, where should we go now?" asked Luke.
"Do you seriously think we don't have enough candy," argued Mary-Anne. She had always been the more responsible child.
"But we have only been to two houses! Why stop now?"
"Because if we eat anymore candy then this then we will get holes in our teeth and mummy and daddy won't be happy, especially because I told you that we already have been given enough."
"You're not getting into the spirit of the holiday! Just one more house, okay?"
"Fine," Mary-Anne said reluctantly.

They approached the next house, but for some reason they were the only ones who did. All the other children skipped that house and continued on to the ones across the road.
However, Luke had no problem approaching the house and dragged his sister along with him.

The house looked rather scary, and it wasn't just because it was Halloween. The tree's were all dead and black, and the house itself didn't look like it was in a good state at all. A single light was on upstairs, so the children knocked on the door and waited for a response.

They heard a shuffling of feet and mumbling coming from inside the house, before an elderly man opened the door. He looked very grumpy and was obviously angry that the children had disturbed him.

"Trick or treat!" The children yelled in unison.
"Oh, halloween," the old man mumbled, "go away, I don't have any candy." He began to slam the door close, but Luke stuck his foot in the doorway.
"Sir, we said Trick or treat, so unless you want us to come back later and tee-pee your house, then I suggest you give us some candy, pronto!" said Luke quite rudely.
"Fine, come in, I'll see what I can give you, you ungrateful kids," said the man. He shuffled into another room mumbling nasty comments about children.

"Luke, you're so rude! He said he didn't have anything so let's go. And anyway, mum said never to go into a stranger's house."
"Mary-Anne, don't be such a goody-two-shoes," Luke said. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's halloween! I want candy, so come on!"
He grabbed hold of Mary-Anne's wrist and pulled her into the old man's house, slamming the door shut behind him.

They looked around and saw that the house was in an even worse a state then they thought. Mould and cobwebs covered the walls, and it smelt like rotten fish.

"Here you go," the old man said from behind, shoving two pieces of rotten corn at the kids. "It's candy corn, very nutritious."
"Uh, thank you, sir" said Mary-Anne, "but we really should be going now."
"You're not going anywhere," said the old man. He locked the doors and threw the keys through the window, before slamming the window shut. He grabbed the children's wrists and pulled them into a dark room. The children saw human skeletons resting against the walls and blood was dripping from the ceiling.
"Are we about to die?" screamed Luke.
"I told you we should've just gone home, I told you not to come into this house!"
"Mary-Anne, are you serious, we are about to get killed and you worried about that!"
"We would be safe at home if you had listened to what I said!"
A grey-ish mist poured out from the walls and the old man left the children gasping on the ground, locking them in.
"I'm too young to die!" gasped Luke.
The blood dripping from the roof had settled in a pile. It rose from the ground as if human-like and began to twist into different shapes, getting closer and closer to the children.
It fell upon their legs and grew bigger and bigger, covering the children and disguising their screams.



The old man entered the room. The dripping blood was once again settled on the ground, and againsts his wall rested two new skeleton figures.
The children were never seen again...

EduBlogs Challenge #3 - Write your own story!

For this weeks Challenge, I chose to do something that was a little similar to last challenges and the challenge before thats Zoom Post.
Again, I need your help to make this post work.

What I have to do is write the beginning of a story, and you, the commenters, comment the next part of the story. YOU decide what happens.

Here is the story opening:

Jasmine Fisher sat in her bedroom staring at a white envelope addressed to her. She had known exactly what it was when she snatched it out of her mothers hands and ran to her room to open it in peace. 
Her nervous hand gently pulled at the seal and she carefully took the folded letter out of the envelope. Her heart stopped as she read the words on the page. She didn't want to believe it, but here it was, staring her right in the face.

What could the letter have said? Well I need you to decide that. Just write the next part of the story in the comments below.
I look forward to hearing all your great ideas!

The Mermaid of Zennor

There once lived a handsome young man, who was fascinated by the ocean. As well as his love for the ocean, he loved to sing. He had a beautiful singing voice that could enchant any girl.

One day, the man was sitting on a rock near the waters edge singing his beautiful song. All of a sudden, a beautiful woman rose from the water, wearing a long blue-green dress. “Excuse me sir,” the woman said, “your voice has enchanted me, would you mind singing me a song?” The man thought this woman was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and so how could he say no? As the woman sat beside him, he began to sing to her. As he looked into her eyes, he fell deeply in love with her.

Not long later, the man and woman were married and living happily in a house just by the water. Soon, they had a baby. It was a beautiful baby boy, but the woman was ashamed of it. She would not let anyone see him, and so she took the baby boy in her arms and walked into the water. The man tried to stop her, but she would not listen. He sat on the very same rock were he had first seen his wonderful wife, and waited for her to rise back up from the water. For three days he waited, but the women never returned. People came up to him and told him that she must have drowned, and that there was no point waiting anymore. But the man was madly in love with the woman, and so one day, he stood up and walked into the water after her. He was never seen again.

Shame on me

"Fool me once, shame on you," I say, trying to psych my brother up, "fool me twice, shame on me."
"Well begin to feel shameful," he says, "because you're going down, down to the ground."
"I don't think so," I say, I'm going to win this bet. How about...the loser has to dress up in a chicken suit and walk around town for three whole hours."
"A chicken suit?" he says, "you're on. You better find your feathers because I am not loosing to a girl who is two years younger than me."
"Are you sure about that?" I say. "Let's see, if I remember correctly, I've won at least the last four bets we've had. I wouldn't feel so confident if I were you. Here are the rules: First person to get the the park wins. The short cuts aloud, or cutting across gardens, strictly the path mapped out. If you somehow cheat in anyway, the other person wins. Deal?"
"Deal," he says. We shake hands on it."
"Okay," I say, "on your mark, get set, go!" As I say the last word, Max rushes in front of me and blocks my path before I have even started. "Hey!" I say, "two can play at that game." I run to the side and slightly of onto the grass beside the path before running in front of Max and blocking his path so that I am in the lead. He tries to do the same, but I kick myself and speed up out of sight. I hear Max shriek with pain, and turn around to see him lying on the path almost in tears. I stopped running and walk over to him. I give him my hand to help me up, but by grabbing it, he pulls me down. I land in an awkward position, my leg spread out and me landing right on top of it. I scream with pain, and see Max jumping with joy in the distance. I begin to cry. Max skips back over to me with a nasty look on his face. "Nobody likes a cry-baby sis, but lets face it, I'm better than you." He smirks.
"I'm not crying because you won," I say, "I'm crying because what you did to me really hurt me. I can't move my leg! You're disqualified! You cheated!"
"No I didn't," he says, "I tricked you, there is a difference." I hate to admit it, but he's right. "Anyway looser," he continues, "I've gotta get home and order you a chicken suit. Later sis!"He waves as he walk back home. I don't move, I just watch as he abandons me. I pull the leg of my jeans up to reveal blood pouring down my leg. I need Max. I call out to him, but he is so far away that he doesn't hear. I feel around in my back pocket for my mobile phone, but I must have left it at home. I somehow manage to pull myself up, and start limping back home. I reach the road where I need to cross, but a car stops in front of me. The front window winds down, and mum is sitting there is shock. "Andrea! What are you doing? You brother is  at home, I came looking for you. I was so worried!" Tears continue to pour down my face. "He tricked me, I'm in agonising pain. I need help mum. Get me home." She rushes out of the car and helps me into the back seat.
I walk into my bedroom, after having mum rinse my leg and bandage it up. There, laying on my bed is a yellow chicken suit. Max walks in from behind me. "Found one on the way home. Now get dressed, we don't have all day, three hours is a pretty long time."
So here I am, walking around town in a yellow chicken suit. I've already had many rude comments, and still have two hours left of this. That spells out embarrassment for you. But you better watch out Max, because I'll get you next time, I'll make it even, I'll show you...

The true meaning of Christmas

Her name was Natalie. She was selfish and cold hearted. She only cared about herself. Every Christmas, she would get many, many presents, but never gave any. She thought Christmas was all about her.

It was Christmas Eve, and Natalie was counting the presents under the tree. "Thirty-two? That's eight less than last year!" She yelled as her mum came running to her side.
"Natalie, you know that St Nicholas still has to come, you will get more still," her mother said.
"Oh yeah," she said, lighting up. "Anyway, I still have more than Fawn. Hey, where is she? I want to rub it in."
"She is dropping some of her old stuff of at the Bushfire appeal. after that terrible fire, those poor people need all the help they can get." Her mother explained.
"Right," Natalie said, loosing interest, "sounds boring. I'm going to count my presents again."

That night, when Natalie was lying in bed, she heard the sounds of whispering. "Fawn, quit it," she yelled, hitting the wall separating her bedroom from her sisters. She layed back in bed, but the whispers continued. She sat up and looked out the window to see a dark shadow hovering about. She got up from her bed and walked over to the window. She opened the window, to tell whatever it was to leave, but before she could even blink, it floated through the window. It stopped in the middle of the room, beckoning Natalie towards it. "Wh-wh-what are you?" Natalie said, shaking. "What are you doing here, y-y-you have to go, right now!"
"Don't be afraid," the dark figure said, "I am the Christmas Angel, I am not here to hurt you. I am here to help you."
"Help me?" Natalie said, still shaking. "I-I-I don't need any help! You just have to go, or-or-or I'll...I'll scream!" She took a deep breath, but couldn't seem to find her voice. She gasped, trying to speak, but nothing came out.
"Don't waste your breath," said the Angel, "I have taken your voice so you will listen. I shall give it back, if you co-operate with me." Natalie nodded, and her cold, whiny voice was once again back.
"I have come to help you, to show you the real meaning of Christmas," said the Angel again. "You have completely forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. Take my hand, and I will show you." The Angel raised her dark hand, and Natalie unwillingly took hold of it.

They felt themselves spinning, shaking through a whirlwind of whispers. But all of a sudden, they stopped, and Natalie was surprised to see herself in the future, as an elderly lady. She watched herself, desperate to know why she was here. She looked around to see a very empty looking room. She looked back to the elderly version of herself and watch her dial her phone. "Fawn? It's me, Natalie...What do you mean...No, I...But, no, please don't go, I..." She looked at the phone in her hand, her sister had hung up. She placed it on the table in front of her, looking upset. "She, but, I have no one," she said, tears rolling down her face. She cried softly to herself, but no one cared enough anymore to comfort her. She was all alone.

Natalie opened her eyes to see herself lying in her bed, back home. She looked at the clock, it was Christmas day. She ran out of bed and out into the living room to see heaps of present under the tree. She saw her parents and Fawn sitting nearby, so she began tearing the wrapping paper off her gifts. She looked at the present in her hands. This is what Fawn had been hoping she would receive. She remembered what had happened last night, and walked over to Fawn, the present in her hands. She handed it to Fawn, smiling. "What?" said Fawn, looking slightly thankful.
"I want you to have this," said Natalie, "I know you have been wanting this for a long time, and even though I do too, I want you to have it instead." Her parents exchanged surprised looks. Fawn took the present from her hands.
"Thank you Natalie," she said. "but why?"
"Because last night, I realised that some day I might need you, but you won't be there for me, and because I am so lucky to have a sister like you." She said.
Fawn smiled, "I think you just learnt the true meaning of Christmas," she said.
Natalie nodded, with a simple "Merry Christmas!"

The Glory of Change

Change. A little word with a big meaning. It's something we all go through in one stage of our life or another. It can be scary, but sometimes it is for the best. We just have to embrace these changes and go with whatever it brings. It isn't a rare thing to find. In fact, change is happening all around you, right before your very eyes. And with a positive outlook, these changes will make this world a better place.

Some of the better examples of change are:

1) Electricity. This was a huge change for everyone living in the 1800's. And without that change, some of the more better changes happening now, wouldn't be happening. Our whole world has changed because of electricity.

2) Mobile Phones and iPods. Who can honestly say that they have never seen someone walking in the shops texting on a mobile phone or playing on the iPods? Some peoples lives (not mine) evolve around their social status, e.g, the mobile phones. I mean, if the invention of these technological beauties had never been invented, then the whole world would be different. And people would know what the expression 'snail mail' actually meant.

3) Facebook/Myspace and Twitter. Can you imagine a world where Facebook, Myspace and Twitter was never created? I mean, when it comes to celebrities, all you here about is something they Tweeted or Posted on Facebook. And if it wasn't to Mark Zuckerburg, and the creation of Facebook, we would never have the movie 'The Social Network' in our cinemas.

I mean, lets face it, change has become a regular thing in every ones lives. The changing of the moon and the sun, day and night, it's all change. We just have to embrace that fact. So don't be afraid, give your life a change!

A Falling Leaf

One of the most amazing and unique sights is watching a single leaf fall from a crowded tree and land on the ground before you.
You watch that leaf, from the minute it begins to twitch in the tree branch, and as it lets go, and gently glides in the wind, falling to the ground. The peaceness of the leaf, the delicateness and the goriness. But behind all that visual happiness, is a negative side to it. As it helplessly falls, it is like letting go. Letting go to your hopes and dreams, and forgetting what really matters. So hold on to your branch, don't fall. Like a beautiful leaf you are, independent and strong. Gliding gently in the wind, so delicately and peaceful.

NB: I was inspired to write this after seeing a leaf fall graciously to the ground on the way home from school. This taught me two things, one - that as a writer, I should always keep a notebook and pen on me at all times, and two - nature can be so interesting and wondrous.

Weeping Grave

This is me just playing around with words to make you feel something -

"Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader—not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon." - E.L. Doctorow

A warm tear slowly rolled down my cheek, as I placed the flowers on her grave stone. I felt as if I could never be happy again. The feeling of guilt filled up inside me, even though I know I had nothing to do with her death. Clouds appeared, covering the sun, and it started to rain. I looked up above me, as cold rain hit me right in the face. I started to run over to a sheltered area, ducking the cold rain. I stopped when I got there, and turned around to watch the rain. Drop, drop, drop. Landing gently on the ground before me. I sit down on the cold concrete ground, looking back at her grave. She didn't deserve to die like this. I start to weap gently. I feel heavy in the air, and my head slumps down. I close my eyes, wishing her goodluck in her afterlife.

The Caravan Park

This post has been written as part of The Edublogger’s Share Your Blogging Experience - My own choice of topic.

"Are we there yet?" Riley said, impatiently. "How much longer? I'm hungry. Can we stop for food? Are we there yet?"
"Will you please just be quiet!" His mother snapped from behind the steering wheel. Riley closed his mouth. "What about now?" He said, five seconds later, "Are we there yet?"

"Be quit!" His sister, Janette yelled from the seat opposite him. "We will get there when we get there, duh!" The caravan pulled to a stop. "See?" continued Janette, "we're here!" Riley rolled his eyes. They got out of the caravan and got the picnic lunch out of the back. "So," said Riley, "what now?" Janette elbowed him in the gut.

"We could go for a drive around the place until we find a nice spot to have lunch?" Suggested their dad. Riley grabbed the caravan door handle slumped back into the back seat of the vehicle. "Well hurry up!" he shouted. "I'm kind of hungry!"

"And impatient," added Janette as they all got back into the Caravan.

They drove around until they found  a quit little spot on a hill, right above a gorgeous lake. "What a cute little spot!" Their mother said to herself. They all got back out of the caravan and set up their rug and picnic basket with all their food.

They ate their picnic lunch in peace, listening to the sounds of nature. "Well," said Riley, as he finished his serving of egg salad and sandwiches, "that was nice, do you want me to put some stuff away?"

"Yes please," replied his dad. Riley picked up the picnic basket and walked over to the caravan. He reached out to open the caravan door, when it began to lean to one side, and started tumbling down the hill. Turning, spinning, rolling, landing in the lake below. Riley just stood there, motionless, hand still out as if her was about to open the caravan door. Janette appeared beside him. "You idiot!" she screamed. "You better have an idea on how to fix this, because my mobile phone was in there, and if you don't get it back, I am going to kill you!"
"Janette!" yelled her mum, "it's just a phone! We can get you a new...better...one. Now there is no point standing around here all day, lets grab what we can and go back to the main area. Someone might be able to get us back home."
"You mean, the trip is over?" Riley protested, "but we just got here!"
"And if you haven't noticed yet Riley," said Janette, "our caravan is sunk. We can't really go on a caravan holiday, if we no longer have one!"
"Janette!" yelled their mum and dad in unison, "lets go!"

It seemed like they had been walking for hours, when in fact, it had only been a few minutes, when a car stopped in front of them. "Need a ride?" the guy shouted from the front seat. "I can take you back to reception if you need to." Janette jumped. "Yes!" she squealed, "yes, yes, YES! I am not walking another metre. We have been for three hours!"
"Ten minutes," corrected Riley. The man in the front seat of the car laughed.
"That's very generous of you sir," said their mum,"but I'm not sure."
"Please mum?" begged Janette. Her mum gave into her wishes, and they all got into the kind mans car.

The man drove around for about another ten minutes, when they arrived at the main area. "Thank you," said Janette.Their mother got out of the car first, and walked over to the reception desk. "Excuse me," she said to the man sitting there.
"Hello!" the man said with a grin. "I'm Greg. How may I be of assistance?"
"Well, funny story," explained the mum, "we took the caravan down to the lake, so we could have a nice picnic lunch, and it kind of lost balance and landed in the lake."
"You have no idea how many times that has happened." said Greg.
"Is there anyway we can get back home?" Said the mum.
""Yes, there most defiantly is." said Greg. "We can loan you a hire car, and have someone pick it up when your ready. We will just need a few details."
"Sure," said the mum, "that sounds great." She gave Greg the details he needed, and took the car keys from him. She walked out to join the rest of her family and explain what was happening. Pretty soon, they found the hire car that was theirs.

After driving for a while, they noticed a group of people signalling for them to pull over. They did. The dad, who was driving, rolled down the car window and said "is everything alright?"
"No," said a member of the group. "You see, our caravan lost balance and landed in that lake a few kilometres from here. We're stranded..."

And the results are...

Some of you may remember one of my posts from early October, 'Take Flight,' which is successfully the most viewed post on my blog. (Thank you!) Click here to read 'Take Flight.'

Some other GREAT news regarding my entry in the story writing competition: Today at school, I was awarded a Nillumbik Shire Council Literacy award. (Basically, a goody bag.) I was a little surprised when I was given this award, but when I looked through the contents of the bag, I saw the print out of 'Take Flight.' So then, I realised what it was. And boy, when my mother found out, was she over the moon. (Mind the expression.)
I won a $30.00 book voucher, two picture story books - both with a personal written message by the author, a certificate, and lots of other little goodies.

So thanks to my hard determination in writing the story that has proved my skill, I have not only won a goody bag, but I have won the feeling of knowing that what you are doing because you love it, can entertain others. Who knows what else I could do now, maybe write stories for the children of the Pakistan Floods and send them to them, so they can laugh and be happily entertained by my writing through the tough times of their country.

NB: When I was writing 'Take Flight,' I almost gave up on it. Good thing I didn't. The day before I wrote it, my mum told me that she wanted me to enter, and so, I tried, but seemed to have writers block. So I left it a day, and this wonderful idea came to mind. I stuck to it, and look at me now!

The Toy Doll

I have this doll. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, but I have never actually liked it. Mum makes me keep it on the shelf beside my bed. It just stares at me with its evil stare. Mum thinks it is cute, but I swear it is out to get me. Now I know what you are thinking, it’s a harmless little doll, filled with stuffing, but it isn’t. It is like one of those really old fashioned dolls. Its … evil.

I sit on my bed writing in my journal. Mum calls my name. “Kelly, can you come set the table for tea?” She says. I close my journal and put it on the end of my bed. I leave the room and close the door. “Yum,” I say as I smell the aroma, “roast chicken, my favourite.” My brother is already sitting at the table with his meal. “Hurry up with the cutlery Kel’s,” he says. “Why don’t you?” I say back at him.

After dinner, I walk back into my room, only to see … the doll. It’s there, sitting on my bed, starring at me. I scream. Mum runs in. “What happened?!” She screams. “The – the – the…” I quiver, “the doll. Its evil I tell you … evil!” Mum gives me a stern look. “Wait,” I continue, “I have a plan. I will need one really thick leather bag and a bandanna.” Mum looks at me strangely and leaves the room. She brings back a dirty old rag and a flour sack. “Thanks,” I say sarcastically. She leaves the room again. I grab the doll and wrap it up in the old rag. I stuff it in the flour sack and tie it up really tightly. I throw it in my closet and shut the door. I brush my teeth, change my clothes, and sit down to watch TV before going to bed.

The next day, after my morning routine, I open to closet door to get the flour sack with the doll in it, but it’s not there! I turn around to see a ripped flour sack and rag on the floor, and the evil little doll standing up on my bed, starring at me. My eyes widen with fear. I dive for the doll, but it seems to slip away from my fingers. I dive again. Success. I hold the doll tightly and run into the laundry, franticly looking for something like the flour sack. I see a pillow case. I grab it and stuff the doll in it. I run out into the garden and grab a spade. I run to the back of the garden. I dig a really deep hole and bury the pillowcase with the doll in it. I fill the hole and run back inside. Phew, no more evil doll … for now …

Take Flight

Recently I entered a competition in which I had to write a story starting with...

I was walking in the park with my family when I heard the sound of an eagle above me. I looked up to see the most tremendous bird I have ever seen. Its wings spread out, almost as far enough to hide the sun. Other birds fled, at the eagle’s magnificence. I watched the bird, as it flew over to a tree. In one of the branches, I could just make out a large nest, with three baby eagles, chirping for their mothers comfort. “Mum,” I said, tugging at her sleeve. “Look over there, in that branch.” She stood there with me, as we watched the bird feed and comfort her three young ones. “Isn’t that amazing?” Mum said, eyes attached to the beauty of those eagles. “It sure is,” I said. As we watched the birds, we knew that this was something truly magical. We watched the birds every movements, and before we knew it, the mother eagle had left her three little babies, hopeless and weak. As the mother flew away, we watched one of the baby birds try and fly off after her mother. Shock ran over me, as I could tell that this little bird is still yet to be taught how to fly. “No!” I screamed, as the bird fell from the nest, furiously flapping its wings. I ran to try and save the bird, being careful not to trip over my feet. Without looking where I was going, I found myself falling, face-first into the hard, rocky ground below. I looked up, searching for the baby bird, only to see it flying side-by-side with its mother. I smiled, as my mother called my name to leave. Now that is something you don’t see every day.

My latest story (sneak peak) - First draft.

Here is a sneak peak at the first draft of my newest story that I am writing.

I am standing in the middle of the field right outside my property, waiting. But I am not exactly sure what I am waiting for. Sometimes I just come here and sit for hours on end. The sun is warm, and there is not a cloud in the sky. The birds are singing loud and clear. The sun shines warm upon my face. It is a perfect day. I look up and smile. I love it here in the country. There is not another home for miles. It’s peaceful, full of tranquillity. I can see my horse, Beanie, in the barn back in our property. It almost looks like she is smiling too. The fresh air is calming as I run back home and over to Beanie. She snorts when I approach her. I grab an apple from the her stash in the back of the barn. She sees it in my hand and snatches it into her mouth before I can blink. I laugh. Nothing can spoil my mood right now. I take Beanie out with me back to the field. I pull myself up onto her and relax. She trots around the field feeling the fresh air. This is nothing but pleasant.


I havn't thought of a title yet but I am working on it.