The Winning Work for the 2013 NGMS NEHS-Sponsored Writing Contest
Sixth Grade Winner Pieces:
1st Place: Brendan McCormack with "Katrina's Lake"
As soon as I stepped off the bus, I knew it was a bad idea. But I loved fishing, and a little rain would not stop me. I strolled down my driveway glancing at my watch. 4:53 pm. I had only a few hours. As I hustled to put my backpack in my bag, I thought about my mother’s opinion of me leaving in this weather. I left my bag outside the pale green door. I grabbed my tackle box and left.
Lake Borgne is only a twenty minute walk from my home. In the deep overcast, the mosquitos start to buzz already. I do not mind the bites, but I slap them off my arms anyway. I was preparing my traps to be set when I heard the voice I feared most. “When do we get in the boat?” My six year old brother, Cole, had scared me so badly, that I needed nearly ten minutes to catch my breath with my back in the Louisiana reeds. I love him, but he talks so loud that I never get to come here as often as I want. He always asks if he can come late at night, or if he can spend the night at the lake, and my mother tells me that I have better things to do then ‘always be hanging around that creek’. Cole had followed me here and I knew my mom would freak out. I tried to send him right back, but now it is too dark for him. He is really smart for his age, but little kid fears hold him back. I looked at my watch. 5:26 pm. If I walked him back, I would have no time to set my traps. If I sent him alone, I’d never hear the end of it. I figured he could stay for now. I may have been bluffing, but I knew he would listen, “You will walk alone back home if you do not stay quiet.” His face went pale white and he zipped his lips.
All you could hear was the crickets and our footsteps as we tiptoed the makeshift dock to my boat. It was a homemade rowboat, but I had saved for years to get the motor that was duct-taped to the back. Normally, I bring four traps at a time and get four more after setting those, but Cole took up space so I could only do three. My watch read 6:42 pm when I finished setting my traps. “Why is it so dark?” Cole always liked to look at clouds, so he saw it before me. I looked up too. I paused and thought. The storm had grown closer. It was hard to tell though because it was too vast to see the other side. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be home before it gets too bad.” At 7:19, it started drizzling.
My traps were stuffed. It seemed like the shrimp were all flying inland. I filled all my buckets so fast, that I set free hundreds of shrimp. At 8:04 pm, I was ready to dock the boat and leave when Cole’s curiosity got me off-track again. “What is that in the water?” I was surprised to say “I don’t know” to Cole. I knew this place so well. I had the answer to anything he might ask about this place. What was that out there?
We took the boat out to the spot for a closer look. It was broken housing. Insulation. Windows. Out on the water, we could see more. Lots more. It was raining hard now, and the sky was black as night. I tried to go back in, but my motor struck a piece of wood and broke. We were drifting out into the massive lake when it got bad.
Night had come and we still had no solution of how to get home. It was foggy and we could not see the shore. Rain, hail, and thunder rocked our boat at about 3:42 am. I was panicking because I knew what was happening. But poor little Cole; he was just playing with the hail and being innocent. Flooding started at 5:12 am. Cole was asleep but opened his eyes with every booming thunder bolt. At 5:46 am, there was a monstrous rush of water and we were thrown onto the land. We both blacked out. My vision was blurry when I woke up.
My watch said 6:27. No. 6:03. The wind is to fast to tell. I yelled for Cole, but I could not even hear my own voice. There was no response and I got dizzy
I woke up again but there was less wind and more light. The water had carried me further from the water. I had no clue where I was, but there were no mosquitos. The eye would not last forever; I had to find Cole. I knew my chances were slim but I would find him if it was the last thing I did. I was probably hallucinating, but the flattened trees appeared to move in front of my eyes. A path formed and I knew God was helping me. Cole laid unconscious beneath a tipped tree. He groaned and drooled in his sleep. Both his legs were broken. No doubt.
Cole can’t die. He can’t. I have so much to say. So much to confess. God lifted the tree off him. I pulled him out. I whispered a prayer into his ear and lifted him on my back. Another path brought me home. Cole was saved by a red cross worker. He was hurt for a long time, but he was okay.
I never told anybody about the paths. I said it was luck. Pure luck. Only years later in heaven did God tell me: he sent Saint Katrina to help me. We survived Katrina. Because of Katrina. The Lord works in strange ways.
Runner Up: Kaylee Peterson with "A Hero's Life"
It all started at a swim meet. Not a swim-meet where you race for fun and talk to friends, but a REAL one. Like National champs, that’s where I was. I had been preparing for weeks! If I won, I would be the best youngest to win ever! But, of course, like all my other huge chances, went BABOOM. Like the spelling bee or the writing contest. But, those were my mistakes. What was about to happen wasn’t going to be my mistake, it was my parents…
So I was warming up, you know the usual jumping jacks and push-ups. All the sudden, CRAAAASH!! The main pool exploded. People screamed and ran as a ginormous octopus rose from the wreckage. I stood there in silence. The monster took one look at me and roared. It raised two of its tentacles and brought them down towards me. I rolled away at the last second. I gave the stupid thing a roar of my own. It had taken my one chance and crushed it! This thing was going to get payback. I screamed in rage and the pool water rose up and spun around the monster like a tornado. I figured out I was controlling the water. I rose my fists and the tornado got taller I twirled my finger and it spun faster. The monster was terrified now. I pushed my hand towards the monster and like water obeyed. The monster shot into a parade of, was that seashells?
I sat down hard on a broken bench. Then there was a squawk. Uh-Oh. What was that? I turned around slowly. Squeaks and groans sounded through the indoor pool. Water dripped down the walls. SQUAWK!! Ten cow-like birds flew through the window. What? Was I hallucinating? I decided not as they dove down at me. I ran towards the exit. I reached out side and sprinted past the driving lot towards my home. It was 10 miles away, but I had run 20 before I would be okay. All the cars, streets and shops went past like a blur.
I was home in what felt like ten seconds. I flew open the door screaming “MOM! MOM!” I slammed the door and bolted it. I went up to her room and stopped short. I had found her. Lying down. On the floor.
“Mom? Mom! MOM WAKE UP PLEASE!” I screamed. Tears raced down my cheeks. I sat down on her bed and sobbed.
“Esell,” A low voice said. I turned around to face a tall, tan man with brown hair and a rugged complexion, wearing a blue shirt and black jacket and jeans.
“Who are you? How did you get in? I bolted the door! How-“
“Esell, stop. Bolts and doors don’t matter to me. I’m, well, I’m a god.” The man explained.
“What?!” I asked.
“I’m a Greek god, girl. Have you ever heard about them?” He told me
“Yeah, but those are just myths!” I argued
“If those were myths, then how am I here??” He snapped. I sighed
“Okay, you’re a god, which one, and why are you here?” I asked.
“I’m Poseidon, God of the Sea.” He said. “And as to why I’m here, You have obviously defeated your first monster and-“
“First?! There’s more?!” I asked.
“Don’t interrupt.” He sighed. “All right I’ll be straightforward. You’re a demigod half god half human. And you are my daughter.” He told me.
“Dad? You’re a god? Wha-?”
“There’s so little time and so much to explain. Look, yes there are many more monsters. They love demigods as an appetizer; yes they will eat you, and only you, because you are the last demigod on this planet Esell.” He rushed. My mouth hung open.
“I must leave now,” he continued. “You’ll need this.” He took a credit card from his pocket, handed it to me, and vanished. I looked at the card for a good ten minutes. A THUMP hit the window and I saw a familiar looking cow-bird look at me. Great they had found me. Time to run, well, unless this card will magically turn into a sword. SHINK. What? Where my card once was had been replaced by a glowing bronze sword. I ran with my sword down the stairs. I kicked the back door open, hoping the bird things didn’t notice. One came at me and I, by instinct, swung the sword. The bird exploded into more seashells. I hoped into my golf cart that I got for Christmas and drove off at speeds my grandma would’ve had a heart attack at. The bird-cows trailed behind me.
I finally lost them at dark. I decided to set up camp by a pond. I found sticks and vines to turn into a makeshift fort. Girl scouts really was useful. I made a fide, and warmed myself up. I eyed the pond. I wonder… I swept my hand back and forth like waves, and the water followed my movement. I walked toward the water. It was filthy! I willed the water to push away the cans, wrappers, and cartons to the other side of the pond. I cautiously walked onto the water, commanding it to support me. I was walking on the water! That had always been a dream of mine. Mom always told me to believe in my dreams, but she’s gone now. No time to dwell on the past. So, I thought, Daughter of Poseidon, last demigod on Earth. I guess I will have to be okay with living a Hero’s Life
1st Place: Brendan McCormack with "Katrina's Lake"
As soon as I stepped off the bus, I knew it was a bad idea. But I loved fishing, and a little rain would not stop me. I strolled down my driveway glancing at my watch. 4:53 pm. I had only a few hours. As I hustled to put my backpack in my bag, I thought about my mother’s opinion of me leaving in this weather. I left my bag outside the pale green door. I grabbed my tackle box and left.
Lake Borgne is only a twenty minute walk from my home. In the deep overcast, the mosquitos start to buzz already. I do not mind the bites, but I slap them off my arms anyway. I was preparing my traps to be set when I heard the voice I feared most. “When do we get in the boat?” My six year old brother, Cole, had scared me so badly, that I needed nearly ten minutes to catch my breath with my back in the Louisiana reeds. I love him, but he talks so loud that I never get to come here as often as I want. He always asks if he can come late at night, or if he can spend the night at the lake, and my mother tells me that I have better things to do then ‘always be hanging around that creek’. Cole had followed me here and I knew my mom would freak out. I tried to send him right back, but now it is too dark for him. He is really smart for his age, but little kid fears hold him back. I looked at my watch. 5:26 pm. If I walked him back, I would have no time to set my traps. If I sent him alone, I’d never hear the end of it. I figured he could stay for now. I may have been bluffing, but I knew he would listen, “You will walk alone back home if you do not stay quiet.” His face went pale white and he zipped his lips.
All you could hear was the crickets and our footsteps as we tiptoed the makeshift dock to my boat. It was a homemade rowboat, but I had saved for years to get the motor that was duct-taped to the back. Normally, I bring four traps at a time and get four more after setting those, but Cole took up space so I could only do three. My watch read 6:42 pm when I finished setting my traps. “Why is it so dark?” Cole always liked to look at clouds, so he saw it before me. I looked up too. I paused and thought. The storm had grown closer. It was hard to tell though because it was too vast to see the other side. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be home before it gets too bad.” At 7:19, it started drizzling.
My traps were stuffed. It seemed like the shrimp were all flying inland. I filled all my buckets so fast, that I set free hundreds of shrimp. At 8:04 pm, I was ready to dock the boat and leave when Cole’s curiosity got me off-track again. “What is that in the water?” I was surprised to say “I don’t know” to Cole. I knew this place so well. I had the answer to anything he might ask about this place. What was that out there?
We took the boat out to the spot for a closer look. It was broken housing. Insulation. Windows. Out on the water, we could see more. Lots more. It was raining hard now, and the sky was black as night. I tried to go back in, but my motor struck a piece of wood and broke. We were drifting out into the massive lake when it got bad.
Night had come and we still had no solution of how to get home. It was foggy and we could not see the shore. Rain, hail, and thunder rocked our boat at about 3:42 am. I was panicking because I knew what was happening. But poor little Cole; he was just playing with the hail and being innocent. Flooding started at 5:12 am. Cole was asleep but opened his eyes with every booming thunder bolt. At 5:46 am, there was a monstrous rush of water and we were thrown onto the land. We both blacked out. My vision was blurry when I woke up.
My watch said 6:27. No. 6:03. The wind is to fast to tell. I yelled for Cole, but I could not even hear my own voice. There was no response and I got dizzy
I woke up again but there was less wind and more light. The water had carried me further from the water. I had no clue where I was, but there were no mosquitos. The eye would not last forever; I had to find Cole. I knew my chances were slim but I would find him if it was the last thing I did. I was probably hallucinating, but the flattened trees appeared to move in front of my eyes. A path formed and I knew God was helping me. Cole laid unconscious beneath a tipped tree. He groaned and drooled in his sleep. Both his legs were broken. No doubt.
Cole can’t die. He can’t. I have so much to say. So much to confess. God lifted the tree off him. I pulled him out. I whispered a prayer into his ear and lifted him on my back. Another path brought me home. Cole was saved by a red cross worker. He was hurt for a long time, but he was okay.
I never told anybody about the paths. I said it was luck. Pure luck. Only years later in heaven did God tell me: he sent Saint Katrina to help me. We survived Katrina. Because of Katrina. The Lord works in strange ways.
Runner Up: Kaylee Peterson with "A Hero's Life"
It all started at a swim meet. Not a swim-meet where you race for fun and talk to friends, but a REAL one. Like National champs, that’s where I was. I had been preparing for weeks! If I won, I would be the best youngest to win ever! But, of course, like all my other huge chances, went BABOOM. Like the spelling bee or the writing contest. But, those were my mistakes. What was about to happen wasn’t going to be my mistake, it was my parents…
So I was warming up, you know the usual jumping jacks and push-ups. All the sudden, CRAAAASH!! The main pool exploded. People screamed and ran as a ginormous octopus rose from the wreckage. I stood there in silence. The monster took one look at me and roared. It raised two of its tentacles and brought them down towards me. I rolled away at the last second. I gave the stupid thing a roar of my own. It had taken my one chance and crushed it! This thing was going to get payback. I screamed in rage and the pool water rose up and spun around the monster like a tornado. I figured out I was controlling the water. I rose my fists and the tornado got taller I twirled my finger and it spun faster. The monster was terrified now. I pushed my hand towards the monster and like water obeyed. The monster shot into a parade of, was that seashells?
I sat down hard on a broken bench. Then there was a squawk. Uh-Oh. What was that? I turned around slowly. Squeaks and groans sounded through the indoor pool. Water dripped down the walls. SQUAWK!! Ten cow-like birds flew through the window. What? Was I hallucinating? I decided not as they dove down at me. I ran towards the exit. I reached out side and sprinted past the driving lot towards my home. It was 10 miles away, but I had run 20 before I would be okay. All the cars, streets and shops went past like a blur.
I was home in what felt like ten seconds. I flew open the door screaming “MOM! MOM!” I slammed the door and bolted it. I went up to her room and stopped short. I had found her. Lying down. On the floor.
“Mom? Mom! MOM WAKE UP PLEASE!” I screamed. Tears raced down my cheeks. I sat down on her bed and sobbed.
“Esell,” A low voice said. I turned around to face a tall, tan man with brown hair and a rugged complexion, wearing a blue shirt and black jacket and jeans.
“Who are you? How did you get in? I bolted the door! How-“
“Esell, stop. Bolts and doors don’t matter to me. I’m, well, I’m a god.” The man explained.
“What?!” I asked.
“I’m a Greek god, girl. Have you ever heard about them?” He told me
“Yeah, but those are just myths!” I argued
“If those were myths, then how am I here??” He snapped. I sighed
“Okay, you’re a god, which one, and why are you here?” I asked.
“I’m Poseidon, God of the Sea.” He said. “And as to why I’m here, You have obviously defeated your first monster and-“
“First?! There’s more?!” I asked.
“Don’t interrupt.” He sighed. “All right I’ll be straightforward. You’re a demigod half god half human. And you are my daughter.” He told me.
“Dad? You’re a god? Wha-?”
“There’s so little time and so much to explain. Look, yes there are many more monsters. They love demigods as an appetizer; yes they will eat you, and only you, because you are the last demigod on this planet Esell.” He rushed. My mouth hung open.
“I must leave now,” he continued. “You’ll need this.” He took a credit card from his pocket, handed it to me, and vanished. I looked at the card for a good ten minutes. A THUMP hit the window and I saw a familiar looking cow-bird look at me. Great they had found me. Time to run, well, unless this card will magically turn into a sword. SHINK. What? Where my card once was had been replaced by a glowing bronze sword. I ran with my sword down the stairs. I kicked the back door open, hoping the bird things didn’t notice. One came at me and I, by instinct, swung the sword. The bird exploded into more seashells. I hoped into my golf cart that I got for Christmas and drove off at speeds my grandma would’ve had a heart attack at. The bird-cows trailed behind me.
I finally lost them at dark. I decided to set up camp by a pond. I found sticks and vines to turn into a makeshift fort. Girl scouts really was useful. I made a fide, and warmed myself up. I eyed the pond. I wonder… I swept my hand back and forth like waves, and the water followed my movement. I walked toward the water. It was filthy! I willed the water to push away the cans, wrappers, and cartons to the other side of the pond. I cautiously walked onto the water, commanding it to support me. I was walking on the water! That had always been a dream of mine. Mom always told me to believe in my dreams, but she’s gone now. No time to dwell on the past. So, I thought, Daughter of Poseidon, last demigod on Earth. I guess I will have to be okay with living a Hero’s Life
Seventh Grade Winner Pieces:
1st Place: Emilia Larkin with "Eyes"
I stopped running.
It was cold and damp outside on the road, and it didn’t help that I was out of breath and near to the point of fainting. I didn’t want to collapse on the street, but I knew I couldn’t stand here and wait for it to find me – that thing that had chased me out of my dream and into this twisted nightmare. I had been peaceful in my slumber until it appeared. This one crept in like a spider, spinning its web in my subconsciousness. Slowly, they made their way into the scene, never making a sound, never even acknowledging their own existence. It might have taken me if I hadn’t noticed something odd about them. They were disguised, of course, but there are some things you couldn’t hide even with the best costume. The way it moved was too fragile, too careful, but eerie in the way that it wasn’t completely foreign. Its stance was familiarly human, and if you’d only ever looked at a picture of it then the only thing you would’ve seen is a dark figure in a hood. But that was because you couldn’t feel it. You haven’t felt this before – this sense, deep in the back of your thoughts, brewing like a pit of lava. It’s like it was there the whole time but I didn’t notice until I saw that thing. Then it skyrocketed, threatening to tear my head apart. It’s a sort of denseness, a dreariness that overtakes you from the top down. A depression, almost. It’s as if all the life, all the spirit and joy have suddenly been erased. You want to feel, you want to move just to know you’re alive but you can’t. Because now it’s got you, and now you’re completely paralyzed, completely and utterly helpless as you stare into the eyes. They bore into your skull like an anvil, those beetle black bullets, black holes that threaten to engulf you right then and there and never let go. They make everything shut down – all your emotions, whether they’re happiness or terror, are wiped away and the only thing left are those eyes.
Don’t ask me how I escaped because I don’t know. I’ve honestly got no idea how I managed to break free from its grasp of horror, or how I managed to stand afterward. All I can tell you is that right now, right here on this lonely road, I’ve died. I’m trapped here for the entirety of my existence. And even if I never cross paths with that thing ever again, even if I go home and carry on with my life as usual, I’ll always be here. Trying to think my way out, trying to break free from tonight. But I won’t, I never will. It will always have my mind; I’ll always be its victim. There’s nothing I can do now.
But it’s funny – come to think of it, I might have been able to save myself from this. It was one small, insignificant mistake that I made when it first appeared. Go back and read the first sentence.
“I stopped running. “
This was my mistake. If I’d run further, if I hadn’t looked back. If I’d chosen to convince myself that this was a terrible nightmare, and that if I woke up it would be over. But I didn’t. I stopped running, and it caught me, and it looked at me with those eyes.
You know well enough what happened after that.
Runner up: Tannessa Dang with "The Deadly Myth that Came Alive"
My name is Lucy Evermore. I have blond, shoulder-length hair and teal blue eyes. My mom always lectured me to get home before 11PM. What`s her problem?!?! This Friday, on October 13, my mom told me about a stupid story about a guy named Farmer Bob. She told me that every full moon, Bob would go out of his barn and follow young children walking alone. No one has ever seen him before. This Bob guy had a pitchfork that he used to scare children to death. (Literally….to death) I`ve heard that after his big scaring scene, he would suck the souls out of the children. Nobody has ever lived to tell what happens. She also said that Bob could sense blood. That morning, if my mom really wanted me to get home early, she shouldn`t try to scare me. Just threaten to ground me or something. There`s no such thing as Farmer Bob…IT`S JUST A MYTH! That`s only what I thought.
It was a cold, wet night. I was walking home from my friend`s house which was only around the corner from my house. Mine was just a little farther down the road when you turned. I kind of lost track of time when I working on my project. I was going home at 12Pm…no biggie! I forgot my jacket at my house and it was raining. I didn`t know it was going to rain! “Splat, splat!” my boots hit the puddles. I looked around to see if anyone were around. Not one car or movement. That wasn`t unusual…..the thought of Farmer Bob flew into my mind. HE`S NOT REAL!!!! I tried to hit the thought out of my head, but the thought kept dodging my attacks. Suddenly, I had a strange feeling I was being followed. I look behind me and my eyes widened to the size of Ping-Pong balls. There in the mist was a dark figure. I started to run. “Why the heck am I running? Who was that?” I thought to myself. I stopped abruptly and turned around. It wasn`t there anymore! Whew! My eyes were probably just seeing things. I turn around the corner and tripped over the curb. “Dang, this mist is getting on my nerves…Give me some freaking light!” I yelled into the night. I feel down my leg and felt something coming down. It was sweat, water, or blood. I tasted it and it was probably blood. It tasted like iron….
I skipped through the night just imagining Farmer Bob, and then remembered the thing about how he could sense blood. I looked up in the sky and tried to blink through the pouring rain. A full moon, shining so brightly, blinded me even more. Everything my mom told me was happening. I heard something….I quickly turned around to see the same dark figure from before. Only this time, I saw an object in its hand. It had three terrifying points. The pitchfork. I couldn`t exactly see who it was but a thought came to mind. FARMER BOB. Is he really real? Was my mother actually telling me the truth? My house was just down the road. I started running. I was actually scared and I could feel my legs about to fall off. My lungs hurt and that’s when something unfortunate happened. I tripped.
I tried to stand up. Limping on one leg, I walked toward my house. For some reason, every time I looked up, the house wasn`t getting any closer. When I looked behind me, there it he was just 5 feet away. I fell to the ground trembling hoping for someone to save me. The figure approached me and I fell into darkness. I had fainted or was scared to death.
I could feel my body start weakening. I couldn`t think straight and it started to get harder to breathe. I tried to squint through my eyes. There he was. Farmer Bob. He was turned around, back to me, standing about 20 feet away. He didn’t even look like a person. He looked like a scarecrow! I tried to sit up but I was strapped to a platform. He turned around and I quickly acted as if I was unconscious. I could feel his eyes glaring at me and turn back around. He turned his head at an angle so I could see part of his face. He had red beady eyes and tons of scars on his face. What the heck happened to him?
I close my eyes as he approaches me. Thinking he wasn`t there anymore, I open my eyes. He stood there glaring at me from 10 feet away from underneath a little light bulb. His eyes were more like scarlet in the light. Then he walks closer to me until his leg reaches the side of the rectangular platform. In his hand was a knife. It was probably at least 5 inches wide. My eyes widened and suddenly SLASH! I had died. Even though I was dead, I could feel my soul being sucked out from my body. I guess this was the end of me…I should have listened to you mom.
“WAKE UP, LUCY!” I opened my eyes to the smell of pancakes and my mom above me. “You were shaking in your bed and I thought you were having a heart attack,” my mom said terrified.
“It was only just a dream….” I thought to myself.
“Always get home by 11PM Lucy, or Farmer Bob will come and get you!” My mom said. Uh oh....my dream all over again...
Runner up 2: Shawn Villacorta with "The Shadow Walker"
This is a story, a story that happened long ago. It is about an experience I had, with “him”. Of course, you do not know who “he” is, or what I am talking about. But, I can share you everything I know.
It was many years ago, at December 21st, 1991. My family traveled to Olympia, Washington to spend our Christmas with my uncle. My father told me that my uncle was a famous hunter there in Washington, and is also one of the best. I was excited to see him, but I was also scared whether he was nice or not. We packed our belongings and left our house surrounded by a small cloud of dust from our car’s exhaust. I thought in my head: This ought to take a while.
After what felt like years inside the car, we finally stopped in front of a small, wooden fence gate, blocking the way to a large, and fancy looking log cabin. My dad picked up the phone and called my uncle. A moment later, we saw our uncle riding a big stallion towards the gate. Even though he was far away, it took him about thirty seconds to reach the gate. He unlocked the gate, and we drove right in.
Amazing how a hunter can own such a big house I thought to myself. It had two floors, and a balcony at the front. My uncle greeted us warmly, thanking us for coming over and spend time. As we entered the house, I saw something move in the corner of my eye. I turned around to see….nothing. I shrugged and moved in the house.
We had dinner somewhat earlier than I expected. We feasted on a large piece of venison. Uncle said that he got this from a full-grown Elk. I believed every bit of it - the venison was huge! After eating the delicious deer, I went out to the porch and saw something horrifying. The big stallion that my uncle rode when he came to unlock the gates, was lying on the ground with its abdomen missing a few chunks of flesh, as if something bit it off. I ran back inside and told uncle what I saw. When we came back out on the porch to look at the corpse, it was gone. The spot where the dead horse was at was empty. My uncle frowned a little, but smiled again after a short period of absolute silence. “You must have been seeing things. Don’t you worry about anything now; there aren’t any wolves around here.” He patted my shoulder and went back inside. I hung my head and went back inside. Right before my uncle closed the door, I caught a glimpse of a silhouette, with bright red liquid dripping down its face.
Christmas was spent walking through Olympic National Park with my uncle and parents. We took as many photos as possible since the park closes early in Christmas. Our uncle showed us a field of Elk grazing in the grass. There were many signs that read:
Do Not Harm the Wildlife
Soon one of them caught a glimpse of our presence and they all ran off. Lucky my mom got enough pictures. Even luckier I got a picture of one tripping on another elk. Good thing they didn’t stab each other.
It was twilight, and the park was going to close in a few minutes. Fog was swirling up from the mountains and coming towards us. Funny I thought: it was supposed to be clear skies today. We hurried our pace so we didn’t get caught by the dense white fog looming over us.
We jogged over a wooden bridge, and our feet sounded like it was breaking the wood. Or maybe it was my feet causing the sound? I got my answer when I stepped too hard on a broken plank that part of it snapped. Nobody turned around to see what happened. Did they not hear it snap? They continued ahead without me, and quickly the fog was all around me. I tried to jerk my foot free but it was stuck between two wood planks.
Then it suddenly became quiet. I stopped to listen. I couldn’t hear my family anymore jogging towards our car, nor could I hear any insects. When I finally got free from the bridge I heard a snarling start from behind me. I flinched and quickly turned around to see a small boy we wearing a hoodie standing there with his hands in his pockets. I got no features from his face due to the dense, white fog all around me. But then I saw its face for a split second: completely black eyes, with sharp teeth appearing behind a devilish grin that covered its face. I quickly took out my camera and quickly snapped a photo. After the flash, it appeared right in front of my face bearing vampire fangs and unbelievably black eyes. Blood trickled down from its mouth and I screamed in fright. It slashed at my face with what felt like glass shards. I fell on the ground and passed out. The last thing I heard was a deafening shriek and a gunshot.
I woke up in a hospital bed next to my uncle. He looked like he was mauled by a tiger: his face had three scars, and his clothes were torn. I then noticed my family was all around me. They were crying tears of joy and…..sadness? I then noticed that my heart rate monitor was not the same as my uncle’s. His heart rate was the only thing that caught my sight. The number that appeared on his monitor was enough to make my eyes water. His heart rate was: 0. He had died trying to save me from that “thing” in the woods.
After attending his funeral, we went back home to California. The last thing I saw in Washington, was the Shadow Walker.
Runner up 3: Hailey Hamil with "The Shadows of Venice"
The smell of salt water lingered in the air I walked down the sidewalk of Venice. The sun shone through the mist of the early morning. I looked through the fog into the crystal, clear water and rubbed my hands through my course, dark hair. My emerald green eyes flicked carelessly across the water in the empty canal. For a moment but only a moment I thought I saw figure hiding carefully in the shadows.
“No, no it’s just my imagination acting up again.” I continued walking down the streets when a cold chill swept down my spine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the shadowy figure. “I’ve just been listening to too many of grandma’s stories” I mumbled under my breath. Casually I started to quicken my pace. After I had rounded the block, I stopped just for a moment to catch my breath and make sure whatever it was wasn’t still following me. I turned left turned right and looked behind me. It seemed like I had lost it. Wrong, very wrong.
As I stood towards the front I saw It. I broke into a full out run hopelessly trying to get away. It had corned me onto the docks. I saw my chance when the man taking tickets looked away. I dashed onto the boat and darted out of sight, until the man would turn away. The figure had disappeared into the dockside shadows. I had waited for what seemed like an eternity, the man on the dock had left. “Now’s my chance I thought “I raced to the deck, but when I arrived it wasn’t only the ticket man missing the ramp to shore was too. As the water city I loved started to fade the figure of the shadows mouthed two words very clearly to me, “Good Luck.”
I wanted to shout good luck about what but it was too late Venice and its shadows had disappeared.
1st Place: Emilia Larkin with "Eyes"
I stopped running.
It was cold and damp outside on the road, and it didn’t help that I was out of breath and near to the point of fainting. I didn’t want to collapse on the street, but I knew I couldn’t stand here and wait for it to find me – that thing that had chased me out of my dream and into this twisted nightmare. I had been peaceful in my slumber until it appeared. This one crept in like a spider, spinning its web in my subconsciousness. Slowly, they made their way into the scene, never making a sound, never even acknowledging their own existence. It might have taken me if I hadn’t noticed something odd about them. They were disguised, of course, but there are some things you couldn’t hide even with the best costume. The way it moved was too fragile, too careful, but eerie in the way that it wasn’t completely foreign. Its stance was familiarly human, and if you’d only ever looked at a picture of it then the only thing you would’ve seen is a dark figure in a hood. But that was because you couldn’t feel it. You haven’t felt this before – this sense, deep in the back of your thoughts, brewing like a pit of lava. It’s like it was there the whole time but I didn’t notice until I saw that thing. Then it skyrocketed, threatening to tear my head apart. It’s a sort of denseness, a dreariness that overtakes you from the top down. A depression, almost. It’s as if all the life, all the spirit and joy have suddenly been erased. You want to feel, you want to move just to know you’re alive but you can’t. Because now it’s got you, and now you’re completely paralyzed, completely and utterly helpless as you stare into the eyes. They bore into your skull like an anvil, those beetle black bullets, black holes that threaten to engulf you right then and there and never let go. They make everything shut down – all your emotions, whether they’re happiness or terror, are wiped away and the only thing left are those eyes.
Don’t ask me how I escaped because I don’t know. I’ve honestly got no idea how I managed to break free from its grasp of horror, or how I managed to stand afterward. All I can tell you is that right now, right here on this lonely road, I’ve died. I’m trapped here for the entirety of my existence. And even if I never cross paths with that thing ever again, even if I go home and carry on with my life as usual, I’ll always be here. Trying to think my way out, trying to break free from tonight. But I won’t, I never will. It will always have my mind; I’ll always be its victim. There’s nothing I can do now.
But it’s funny – come to think of it, I might have been able to save myself from this. It was one small, insignificant mistake that I made when it first appeared. Go back and read the first sentence.
“I stopped running. “
This was my mistake. If I’d run further, if I hadn’t looked back. If I’d chosen to convince myself that this was a terrible nightmare, and that if I woke up it would be over. But I didn’t. I stopped running, and it caught me, and it looked at me with those eyes.
You know well enough what happened after that.
Runner up: Tannessa Dang with "The Deadly Myth that Came Alive"
My name is Lucy Evermore. I have blond, shoulder-length hair and teal blue eyes. My mom always lectured me to get home before 11PM. What`s her problem?!?! This Friday, on October 13, my mom told me about a stupid story about a guy named Farmer Bob. She told me that every full moon, Bob would go out of his barn and follow young children walking alone. No one has ever seen him before. This Bob guy had a pitchfork that he used to scare children to death. (Literally….to death) I`ve heard that after his big scaring scene, he would suck the souls out of the children. Nobody has ever lived to tell what happens. She also said that Bob could sense blood. That morning, if my mom really wanted me to get home early, she shouldn`t try to scare me. Just threaten to ground me or something. There`s no such thing as Farmer Bob…IT`S JUST A MYTH! That`s only what I thought.
It was a cold, wet night. I was walking home from my friend`s house which was only around the corner from my house. Mine was just a little farther down the road when you turned. I kind of lost track of time when I working on my project. I was going home at 12Pm…no biggie! I forgot my jacket at my house and it was raining. I didn`t know it was going to rain! “Splat, splat!” my boots hit the puddles. I looked around to see if anyone were around. Not one car or movement. That wasn`t unusual…..the thought of Farmer Bob flew into my mind. HE`S NOT REAL!!!! I tried to hit the thought out of my head, but the thought kept dodging my attacks. Suddenly, I had a strange feeling I was being followed. I look behind me and my eyes widened to the size of Ping-Pong balls. There in the mist was a dark figure. I started to run. “Why the heck am I running? Who was that?” I thought to myself. I stopped abruptly and turned around. It wasn`t there anymore! Whew! My eyes were probably just seeing things. I turn around the corner and tripped over the curb. “Dang, this mist is getting on my nerves…Give me some freaking light!” I yelled into the night. I feel down my leg and felt something coming down. It was sweat, water, or blood. I tasted it and it was probably blood. It tasted like iron….
I skipped through the night just imagining Farmer Bob, and then remembered the thing about how he could sense blood. I looked up in the sky and tried to blink through the pouring rain. A full moon, shining so brightly, blinded me even more. Everything my mom told me was happening. I heard something….I quickly turned around to see the same dark figure from before. Only this time, I saw an object in its hand. It had three terrifying points. The pitchfork. I couldn`t exactly see who it was but a thought came to mind. FARMER BOB. Is he really real? Was my mother actually telling me the truth? My house was just down the road. I started running. I was actually scared and I could feel my legs about to fall off. My lungs hurt and that’s when something unfortunate happened. I tripped.
I tried to stand up. Limping on one leg, I walked toward my house. For some reason, every time I looked up, the house wasn`t getting any closer. When I looked behind me, there it he was just 5 feet away. I fell to the ground trembling hoping for someone to save me. The figure approached me and I fell into darkness. I had fainted or was scared to death.
I could feel my body start weakening. I couldn`t think straight and it started to get harder to breathe. I tried to squint through my eyes. There he was. Farmer Bob. He was turned around, back to me, standing about 20 feet away. He didn’t even look like a person. He looked like a scarecrow! I tried to sit up but I was strapped to a platform. He turned around and I quickly acted as if I was unconscious. I could feel his eyes glaring at me and turn back around. He turned his head at an angle so I could see part of his face. He had red beady eyes and tons of scars on his face. What the heck happened to him?
I close my eyes as he approaches me. Thinking he wasn`t there anymore, I open my eyes. He stood there glaring at me from 10 feet away from underneath a little light bulb. His eyes were more like scarlet in the light. Then he walks closer to me until his leg reaches the side of the rectangular platform. In his hand was a knife. It was probably at least 5 inches wide. My eyes widened and suddenly SLASH! I had died. Even though I was dead, I could feel my soul being sucked out from my body. I guess this was the end of me…I should have listened to you mom.
“WAKE UP, LUCY!” I opened my eyes to the smell of pancakes and my mom above me. “You were shaking in your bed and I thought you were having a heart attack,” my mom said terrified.
“It was only just a dream….” I thought to myself.
“Always get home by 11PM Lucy, or Farmer Bob will come and get you!” My mom said. Uh oh....my dream all over again...
Runner up 2: Shawn Villacorta with "The Shadow Walker"
This is a story, a story that happened long ago. It is about an experience I had, with “him”. Of course, you do not know who “he” is, or what I am talking about. But, I can share you everything I know.
It was many years ago, at December 21st, 1991. My family traveled to Olympia, Washington to spend our Christmas with my uncle. My father told me that my uncle was a famous hunter there in Washington, and is also one of the best. I was excited to see him, but I was also scared whether he was nice or not. We packed our belongings and left our house surrounded by a small cloud of dust from our car’s exhaust. I thought in my head: This ought to take a while.
After what felt like years inside the car, we finally stopped in front of a small, wooden fence gate, blocking the way to a large, and fancy looking log cabin. My dad picked up the phone and called my uncle. A moment later, we saw our uncle riding a big stallion towards the gate. Even though he was far away, it took him about thirty seconds to reach the gate. He unlocked the gate, and we drove right in.
Amazing how a hunter can own such a big house I thought to myself. It had two floors, and a balcony at the front. My uncle greeted us warmly, thanking us for coming over and spend time. As we entered the house, I saw something move in the corner of my eye. I turned around to see….nothing. I shrugged and moved in the house.
We had dinner somewhat earlier than I expected. We feasted on a large piece of venison. Uncle said that he got this from a full-grown Elk. I believed every bit of it - the venison was huge! After eating the delicious deer, I went out to the porch and saw something horrifying. The big stallion that my uncle rode when he came to unlock the gates, was lying on the ground with its abdomen missing a few chunks of flesh, as if something bit it off. I ran back inside and told uncle what I saw. When we came back out on the porch to look at the corpse, it was gone. The spot where the dead horse was at was empty. My uncle frowned a little, but smiled again after a short period of absolute silence. “You must have been seeing things. Don’t you worry about anything now; there aren’t any wolves around here.” He patted my shoulder and went back inside. I hung my head and went back inside. Right before my uncle closed the door, I caught a glimpse of a silhouette, with bright red liquid dripping down its face.
Christmas was spent walking through Olympic National Park with my uncle and parents. We took as many photos as possible since the park closes early in Christmas. Our uncle showed us a field of Elk grazing in the grass. There were many signs that read:
Do Not Harm the Wildlife
Soon one of them caught a glimpse of our presence and they all ran off. Lucky my mom got enough pictures. Even luckier I got a picture of one tripping on another elk. Good thing they didn’t stab each other.
It was twilight, and the park was going to close in a few minutes. Fog was swirling up from the mountains and coming towards us. Funny I thought: it was supposed to be clear skies today. We hurried our pace so we didn’t get caught by the dense white fog looming over us.
We jogged over a wooden bridge, and our feet sounded like it was breaking the wood. Or maybe it was my feet causing the sound? I got my answer when I stepped too hard on a broken plank that part of it snapped. Nobody turned around to see what happened. Did they not hear it snap? They continued ahead without me, and quickly the fog was all around me. I tried to jerk my foot free but it was stuck between two wood planks.
Then it suddenly became quiet. I stopped to listen. I couldn’t hear my family anymore jogging towards our car, nor could I hear any insects. When I finally got free from the bridge I heard a snarling start from behind me. I flinched and quickly turned around to see a small boy we wearing a hoodie standing there with his hands in his pockets. I got no features from his face due to the dense, white fog all around me. But then I saw its face for a split second: completely black eyes, with sharp teeth appearing behind a devilish grin that covered its face. I quickly took out my camera and quickly snapped a photo. After the flash, it appeared right in front of my face bearing vampire fangs and unbelievably black eyes. Blood trickled down from its mouth and I screamed in fright. It slashed at my face with what felt like glass shards. I fell on the ground and passed out. The last thing I heard was a deafening shriek and a gunshot.
I woke up in a hospital bed next to my uncle. He looked like he was mauled by a tiger: his face had three scars, and his clothes were torn. I then noticed my family was all around me. They were crying tears of joy and…..sadness? I then noticed that my heart rate monitor was not the same as my uncle’s. His heart rate was the only thing that caught my sight. The number that appeared on his monitor was enough to make my eyes water. His heart rate was: 0. He had died trying to save me from that “thing” in the woods.
After attending his funeral, we went back home to California. The last thing I saw in Washington, was the Shadow Walker.
Runner up 3: Hailey Hamil with "The Shadows of Venice"
The smell of salt water lingered in the air I walked down the sidewalk of Venice. The sun shone through the mist of the early morning. I looked through the fog into the crystal, clear water and rubbed my hands through my course, dark hair. My emerald green eyes flicked carelessly across the water in the empty canal. For a moment but only a moment I thought I saw figure hiding carefully in the shadows.
“No, no it’s just my imagination acting up again.” I continued walking down the streets when a cold chill swept down my spine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the shadowy figure. “I’ve just been listening to too many of grandma’s stories” I mumbled under my breath. Casually I started to quicken my pace. After I had rounded the block, I stopped just for a moment to catch my breath and make sure whatever it was wasn’t still following me. I turned left turned right and looked behind me. It seemed like I had lost it. Wrong, very wrong.
As I stood towards the front I saw It. I broke into a full out run hopelessly trying to get away. It had corned me onto the docks. I saw my chance when the man taking tickets looked away. I dashed onto the boat and darted out of sight, until the man would turn away. The figure had disappeared into the dockside shadows. I had waited for what seemed like an eternity, the man on the dock had left. “Now’s my chance I thought “I raced to the deck, but when I arrived it wasn’t only the ticket man missing the ramp to shore was too. As the water city I loved started to fade the figure of the shadows mouthed two words very clearly to me, “Good Luck.”
I wanted to shout good luck about what but it was too late Venice and its shadows had disappeared.
Eight Grade Winner Pieces:
1st Place: Joanna Choe with "Perpetual Light"
Left out alone in the frost-bitten world,
And covered by a blanket of darkness.
My body shivers from the frigid temperature,
Searching and craving warmth.
I stumble across the bottomless snow,
Waiting for an embrace of love.
Like the pupil of an eye,
The sky turns into an inky black sea.
From the trees of memories,
Shines a brilliant light. Blinding my eyes to see only circles.
I drag my feet through the instantly melting snow.
Against the warm light I stand,
Finally, at last,
My world of perpetual light.
1st Place: Joanna Choe with "Perpetual Light"
Left out alone in the frost-bitten world,
And covered by a blanket of darkness.
My body shivers from the frigid temperature,
Searching and craving warmth.
I stumble across the bottomless snow,
Waiting for an embrace of love.
Like the pupil of an eye,
The sky turns into an inky black sea.
From the trees of memories,
Shines a brilliant light. Blinding my eyes to see only circles.
I drag my feet through the instantly melting snow.
Against the warm light I stand,
Finally, at last,
My world of perpetual light.