Writing Competition

Congratulations to our talented winners - 

Sasha Black 8D and Alyssa Nicolson 10B for sharing their character's adventures with us, and Malini Waiwitwuthiwong 10I and Katarina Gavrilovic 8S for their mysterious, suspenseful stories.

Thank you to all of our wonderful entrants - we are so impressed with your creativity and entertaining ideas. Well done!

Enter each week for your chance to be published in our college newsletter and win a terrific writer's gift box. New prompts will be posted on Compass each Monday.

Enjoy reading the winning entries from Sasha, Alyssa, Malini and Katarina.

Lisa Bayley and Linda Stocks

Quicksmart Literacy Tutors

Out on the open road. Driving around Australia in a tacky run-down caravan with my mates that would take just as long to pay off as our future University fees.

After this trip I’ll study design and I’ll be staying in an apartment with my mates. That means no parents guilt tripping me into being a doctor. It’ll just be me, Rickie and Ralph. Rickie is a really tall sports lad. He was the team captain of our high school’s footy team. And Ralph was a tiny ball of freckles.

THUMP THUMP

I sigh and pull over, parking and turning off the car. The monstrous engine of the land rover silencing.

I walk over to the caravan and open the door.

“hey, I told you not to punch the…” all my words fell off my tongue when I saw the situation in front of me.

Ralph was crying, cradling a very uncomfortable and bloody Rickie

“I’m fine I swear.” Rickie said, trying to squirm out of Ralph’s grasp, but Ralph clung to him tighter.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. You’ve just got to tell me where you want to be buried. Be at peace, be at peace- “

“Okay that’s enough.” I cut Ralph off, helping Rickie escape from him so I can look at his blood covered hand.

“Did you stab yourself with a fork?” I asked, bewildered.

“By accident!” Rickie yelped, his voice cracking with embarrassment

Sometimes, I swear he’s just two adolescent boys in a trench coat.

“Ralph, go get the first aid kit.” I said, turning to Ralph. He sniffed a few times before asking, 

“The first aid what?”

“The first aid kit! Please don’t tell me you forgot to pack it.”

“Okay I won’t tell you then.”

I huffed and got up. “I’ll drive us to the next town so we can get some bandages.”

Ralph followed me to the car, jumping into the passenger seat.

I closed the door and buckled up, turning the key to get the monster engine started…

I turn it …

And again…

I glance at the fuel gauge; it says there is fuel.

Ralph leans over and taps at the gauge. “Sorry, sometimes it gets stuck at the halfway point. Let me just…” he taps his finger on the gauge and I watch in horror as the needle falls all the way to E.

“Ralph.”

“Yeah”

“when I asked you to fill the tank at the last stop. What did you do?”

”I, forgot.” He mumbled. Guilty.

“Okay, that should do it.” I said leaning back to see the makeshift bandage from Rickie’s old red shirt.

Rickie thanked me and laid down on his bed. 

He barely fit on it, but it was either that or all share one big bed. But Rickie refused to share a bed with a guy. Adolescent boys in a trench coat. Definitely.

I went to check if Ralph had managed to get the attention of anyone going past. But of course, Ralph is sleeping against the outside of the caravan.

I sigh and shake him awake.

“Huh what?” he asked groggily.

“Go inside and sleep, I’ll try get someone to help.”

“Oh okay” he yawned, stumbling back into the caravan.

It’s going to be a long night.

I walk back into the caravan in the morning. Ralph is sitting at the table and Rickie is making toast one-handed.

“Morning.” I grumble as I walk over to the fridge, grabbing the milk.

“Morning, what are we going to do today?” Ralph asked.

“Well, I’m going to try call for a tow truck.” I explained, grabbing a bowl and the cereal box.

“Hey, where’s the cutlery?” Rickie asks from the kitchenette, looking into a completely empty cutlery drawer.

I was about to ask what he was talking about when I lifted up the cereal box to pour some into my bowl when-

THUNK

…

“Ralph.”

“Yeah?”

“Why was there a fork in the cereal box?”

“Yeah about that… I think it’s dangerous for Rickie to have access to cutlery from now on.”

“Do you remember where you put them all?” I grumbled

Ralph took a breath to respond before he stopped, and his face fell. He looked back at me sheepishly.

I sigh, then put the milk back in the fridge because there’s no way I’m eating cereal with a fork.

I’m standing outside the caravan with my phone. There’s a signal out here but it’s weak. I’ve been trying to get through to the insurance company to ask for a tow but it takes forever to get past all the automated replies, only to lose signal and have to start all over again.

Suddenly I hear “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH-“ from the caravan running into the caravan to see what’s going on, of course, Ralph is crying again, Rickie is in a towel and there’s a knife in the shower.

“KALEB! THE KNIFE FELL AND STABBED RICKIE IN THE HEAD!” Ralph yelled, grabbing my shoulders, and shaking me.

“I said ALMOST stabbed me in the head you idiot!” Rickie yelled, pulling Ralph off me, his voice breaking again.

God, if these two keep this up I might HAVE to become a doctor to make sure they don’t end up dead.

Since calling the insurance company didn’t work out we decided we would just start pushing the car.

“But we might be walking for DAYS!” Rickie complained. “we’ll need to take the caravan with us, so we don’t starve.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to be hauling another 1300 kilograms?” I reasoned, unclipping the caravan from the tow bar.

Rickie begrudgingly agreed and started pushing the car. Ralph, being the lightest out of all of us was in the front, making sure to steer the car and keep it on the road.

After an hour of pushing the land rover, up ahead was a town. This whole time, at town was just a few kilometres away. Of course.

As we arrived at the gas station I urged Ralph and Rickie to go and get a first aid kit while I fill the tank. I didn’t trust them with the petrol anymore. At least there’s no more rogue utensils ready to kill Rickie, right?

Finishing up with the petrol Rickie and Ralph return, Rickie finally has a proper bandage on and They both have big grins peeking over the pile of snacks they each have in their arms.

“alright, everyone in. time to go pick up the caravan.” I say hopping back into the driver’s seat.

“SHOTGUN!” Rickie yelled and ran over to the other side of the car. Ralph pouted and crawled into the back seat.

Maybe they’re both children in trench coats.

I turned the keys and this time the engine roared to life.

CLANK CRASH

Me and Rickie turn around to Ralph.

“oh yeah! Now I remember! I put a spoon in the exhaust pipe!”

Alyssa Nicolson 10B

Lost

“Aren’t we going in circles?” Mark was pulled from his daydream, a voice interrupting his thoughts. 

“Shut up Lucas,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Shut up Lucas,” Lucas mocked, quietly.

He sighed; they had been walking for hours trying to find the campsite. They had lost the rest of the group. He pulled out his phone, no signal. He stopped and sat down on the ground not caring how dirty he got anymore. He heard a thud as Lucas dropped to the floor. 

“We’re totally lost,” He muttered, more to himself than anything. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back. Lucas was attempting to massage his shoulders through the thick straps on his backpack. He smiled softly, they had been good friends since they met, most likely aided by how close they were in age, only a few months difference. 

“I’m surprised Johnny hasn’t found you yet, or Hae,” Lucas muttered, annoyance crystal clear in his voice.

“Well, Hae is most likely too busy clinging to someone, very likely Johnny or Tael. Johnny would be too busy leading those idiots, although, TY is probably leading so Johnny might just be stuck with Hae and-“ Mark was cut off by Lucas, who had obviously had enough of his word spew.  

“You know you’re rambling, right?” Lucas stood up and stood over Mark. “No matter, we need to keep walking.” He turned around as if ready to ditch Mark.

“Wait…  I want to sit for a while… I don’t want to keep going… I’m tired…” Mark said, although he spoke rather quietly, perhaps trying to make Lucas feel bad. Which of course, didn’t work.

“You don’t pay attention to anything, do you? If you had of looked, the ground is sloping upwards, if we get to higher ground, I might be able to call Johnny. Wasn’t our campsite going to be on a hill, anyway?” As he finished his little rant, Lucas caught himself slightly, he sounded like a parent. He shuddered at the thought. Kids were cute when they were someone else's but they were icky and gross if they were yours. Well, that’s what his mum had always said anyways.

“I can call Johnny? What are you waiting for? LET’S GO!” Mark suddenly took a turn from being gloomy to being enthusiastic, jumping to his feet and taking off into a run not looking where he was going.

Lucas laughed to himself and started walking after him. ‘I should have told him that I could see Johnny or something, he might have gone faster.’ He gave himself the pleasure of teasing Mark a little, even if only in his mind. He didn’t blame him for being so attached to Johnny, The people they worked for were overworking him, Johnny had helped him deal with that, it helped they had the same shifts. They used Lucas less although he had no idea why.

“Look where you’re going mark! I don’t know first aid!” He yelled as loud as possible, realizing Mark had his eyes closed and was doing the weirdest run he had ever seen, he had his arms out behind him, was almost bent in half and was running without looking. Then it clicked. It must have been the way one of Mark’s beloved Anime characters ran. How odd.

“Yeah, I’m being care-” and with that, he ran headfirst into a tree and fell over. Lucas sighed; this was going to be a long day. 

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?” He muttered, walking up to Mark to assess the damage. If he didn’t know his age, he would think Mark was no older than a child with the way he behaved sometimes. As he turned him over, he saw his nose was bleeding and gasped. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but shhh, I hear something.” Mark groaned quietly, pressing a finger to Lucas’ lips to silence him. Lucas sighed and started to mumble something but stopped at Marks stare. If looks could kill, that would do it.

Then he heard it. Someone faintly yelling Mark’s name, then he heard another voice telling the first voice off and saying, “You need to yell both names, nitwit.” Mark’s eyes grew wide; the second voice was definitely Johnny. The first voice was… Hae? Maybe? Since it had only been yelling Mark’s name that was a possibility. Then Johnny started yelling. “MARK! LUCAS! CALL OUT IF YOU’RE HERE!”

Mark looked at Lucas with pleading eyes, his eyes telling him everything, he was hurt, he was tired, he couldn’t yell. 

“WE’RE HERE!” he yelled, instantly hearing the crashing of bushes meaning the others were on their way. Hae came through the trees first. Which was understandable, he was smaller than Johnny was. Seeing Mark on the floor with a bloodied nose. He ran to Mark, jumping on him instantly wrapping his arms around him. Emitting a few inaudible words as he did so, causing Mark to chuckle, then wince in pain. If Mark acted like a child, Hae acted even younger.

Johnny came through the bushes next, instantly peeling Hae off of Mark. He grabbed Mark’s bag and handed it to Hae, “Carry it.” Hae nodded wordlessly and walked back the way they had come. Johnny picked Mark up, cradling him in his arms. Ignoring Marks soft, “I can walk” He turned to Lucas. “Are you okay?” He said, quickly looking him over for any obvious injuries. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lucas shouldered his bag and began following Johnny. 

With that, they walked back to the campsite in silence, apart from Mark having to occasionally talk to Hae after he yelled at him.

Sasha Black 8D

The Man in the Mirror

There was something about his reflection that enamored him. He touched the mirror’s glass, his fingertips cold upon the reflective surface as he smiled, taking in his delicate but aging features and intellect glistened in his green eyes. 

“Patrick! Step away from the mirror! I know you’re a psychic detective but you’re pushing the limits.” 

“But Simone-”

“No buts.” She pointed to the clock. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.”

That was the last time he saw his sister. When he returned home that night, the empty house became a crime scene. Soon he moved out, not even noticing the crack across his mirror. He was questioned but was dismissed. 

Behind their backs, he laughed, knowing how easy it was to lie. 

An urban legend existed in town. The so-called “man in the mirror” haunted mirrors. It was something that embodies the ugliness of mankind. Sure, it was just a mere myth, but he spoke to the dead. That wasn’t enough to persuade him to back down from his investigation. 

Each day, he looked at the cracked mirror and noted a few changes. His brown hair grew messy and his eyes grew duller and wearier. Yet he was still complemented for how chipper and ready he looked. He certainly doesn’t look ready, he looked like he spent the night at a bar. 

His time was split with his job as a detective. Men dropped like flies recently. He’d seen the exact same thing over and over again; bloodshot eyes, blood but not a single wound present, and a cracked mirror. 

To think that the police believe a serial killer was on the loose, how laughable. 

That night, Patrick arrived at the station with one goal in mind. He was close to figuring out the truth behind the urban legend, but he was missing some necessary information. Annoyingly, it led him to his boss. 

“Okay Pat, I’ve had enough of this,” commented Janice. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t-”

He cut her off. “Trust me Chief. The dead have all been pointing to that area. It’s the-”

“Speaking with the dead is one thing, but witchcraft?! Surely-”

“But it’s the only lead we have.”

Janice shot him a nasty glare and he decided to shut up. Patrick sighed, leaning back in his chair. Giving up sounds like the only thing he could do, but he couldn’t afford to do that, especially when he’s so close. His eyes wandered to a mirror, seeing a man coated with blood. Subconsciously, his hand curled into a fist, his brain filtering out his boss’ words. 

He stood up and reached for the desk lamp.

… CRACK! …THUMP!

He left the office with a file in hand, not even blinking as he closed the door to the newest crime scene. The criminal would be long gone before the detectives even found out. 

“Just a lie! Tch, no matter! I’ll prove you wrong!”

Patrick complained for the 25 minutes that it took to drive to his destination. 

There was nothing strange about the mansion in front of him. Honestly, it looked like any other regular villa. From his height he had a clear view of town. Patrick slammed the door shut to his car and threw his badge into the nearby well. He felt like he didn’t belong in the force anymore. 

Pushing aside the door, a creak resonated throughout the dim hallway. The home looked young, but it reeked of dust. He felt sick as the door slowly closed. The very first thing his eyes fell upon was a mirror. A formally dressed man soaked in blood stared back at him. 

Something isn’t right…

Patrick peered closer, his rough fingertips touching the cold mirror. He soon realised that he was looking upon himself. 

He felt cold and reached for his jacket, only for his fingers to pass through air. Patrick sighed, feeling an unnatural presence, befall him. He smiled, connecting with the spirit as he channeled his concentration. Seconds passed… then an echoey voice resonated in his head. 

“Don’t proceed any further detective… this mansion will be your doom.”

Patrick was confused, he bit his lip before continuing confidently. He was nervous before but that became non-existent when his voice resounded in the empty hall. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“The man in the mirror knows your weaknesses. Venture further and- AHHH!”

The connection suddenly cut. Not a single word left his lips, when an earsplitting shatter resonated from everywhere. Patrick flinched, moving aside as sharp shards of glass flew past him. A gust of wind hit him straight in the face. He shielded himself, backed up and squinted. 

There were no signs of a storm outside, but he picked up flashing lights in the distance. 

CRACK…

Patrick froze, finding that he was standing on a framed photograph now cracked. He picked it up and froze. That youthful face and that innocent cheeky smile, this was his Year 12 photo… but what was it doing here? His finger traced the crack, blood dripping from cuts onto the glass. 

BOOM!

“Patrick Gilmore you are under arrest for murder!”

On instinct he raised his hands at the sight of the gun pointed at him. Sirens rang out and the familiar blue and red lights flashed all around him. His heart skipped a beat, he didn’t know what was happening. He turned to the mirror, and his mind went completely blank. 

The mirror was cracked, and his reflection had changed. He was coated with blood, and he adorned his uniform, but his badge was gone alongside any proof of his allegiance with the force. His hair was a mess, and dull green eyes showed no remorse. A sinister smile flashed at him, and he saw it. 

He saw a prideful man then realised he was the selfish killer. He removed those that stood in his way. The man in the mirror had killed him. 

Hands behind his back, he walked out, tears streaking his cheeks. 

Malini Waiwitwuthiwong 10I 

21 

Water trickled down the arched walls of dungeon, leisurely falling onto the stone floor. 

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip.

I scanned the dark hallway for guards before opening my unlocked cage. Silently, I scurried to the end of hall, stopping before a torch lit corridor. The cold of winter seeped into my feet and side as I pressed closer to the damp wall. Peering quickly past the corner, I searched for any signs of danger. 

Concluding that the coast was clear, I dashed along the length of the space. Warmth hitting the side of my face in a rhythmic pattern as passed lit torches. I smiled softly to myself before I heard the unmistakable sound of shouting and heavy footsteps. 

Reaching the end of the hall, I swooped into a side room. Hastily, I slammed the heavy metal door against my hand before softly pushing it closed. Terrified, I quickly backed away from the door and into a corner of the small room, clutching my wounded hand. A single candle lit the tiny space, light bouncing off the textured walls. Briefly scanning compact desk housing the candle, my eyes were draw to the left of the wooden surface. The soft glow of the candle reflected in the dirty mirror, cracks in its surface disturbing the glum image. 

I observed the foreign girl in the unframed glass, her hair a tangled mess. Dark eyes bore into my soul. Bony fingers reached out toward me, stopping abruptly at the silverly barrier. She wore a loose white dress, barely hanging onto her sickly frame. It engulfed her like ocean waves at high tide, shielding her blanched, taut skin from view. 

Purple and blue coloured her white skin like watercolour. Black bruises creating black holes, each one with a unique story, holding power over her. Trapping her like a star in orbit, and slowly creeping closer, feeding away at the space between them before it reached her. And once it does, it will devour her soul and spirit, ripping and tearing until all her fight is gone. 

As I looked on at this feral being, teeth sharp and yellowed, I did not feel afraid. I shared her pain as she sunk down onto the light grey floor, slowly painting it crimson. I saw all hope leave her eyes as they continued to look back at me. I endured her struggle when she cracked and crumbled. Her sunken face now wet with tears. The expression she adorned, however, did not change to cry with her. Instead it morphed every so swiftly away from agony, into an emotionless state.

The newly formed creature stared at me, but I did not feel fear or pity. I watched as a malicious grin slit across its face, feeling it engraved on my own lips. I heard our laughter as I fell suddenly onto the ground, clutching roughly at my stomach. Breath escaped my lungs as tears streaked the concrete beneath me. Silent sobs and laughs choking me as I gasped for air. 

The smile was still on my face as I heard the door slam open and guards rush in towards me. I didn’t feel the violent hands grabbing at me at all sides; snatching at me as if I was a handful of lollies and they were greedy children. I didn’t notice the knife enter or leave my torso, or the burning of my wrists in the tight rope. 

Faint sounds of discipline buzzed in my ear as I looked up and beamed at Mr. Collins. 

“Did you like my present?” I giggled before I blacked out. 

*****

A high-pitched ringing sound boomed through the bedroom of a Taylor Cavens, awaking her from sleep. 

“Hello?” She asked after clearing her throat. 

“Ms. Collins?”

“This is her.”

“The experiment was successful. Test subject 21 is ready for further processing.” 

Kaya Gavrilovic 8S