Year 8 High Achiever
Creative Writing Stories
The beast in the mountains
Up in the mountains lives a gruesome creature which is rumoured to be a cross between a lion, a scorpion and a dragon. It is believed to breathe fire and its tail poison is strong enough to take down 1000 armies and to be guarding an enormous amount of treasure. Many people have gone to defeat the beast but only 5 out of millions have survived and 4 of these 5 have taken their own lives because of the horrors, the only left survivor is the now king who over these many years has planned how to destroy the beast but only he knows what to expect and only he knows he will survive the beast, not by killing it or the feeling of luck, no because he was the only one who knew there was no beast, just something more sinister. For you see, those many years ago (when the king was a mere prince) went to defeat the beast he was instead met with a witch who enchanted all the men to turn on themselves believing the other to be the beast and for those who fled she enchanted them to bring her more.
By Lily Witnish
Story 5:
The smell of smoke filled the air as the secret forest began to light up. The fire starting spreading leaf to leaf, branch to branch, tree to tree. The old shack at the end of the forest caught fire last. The whole scene was on fire and burnt down and I was there. Smiling as I tucked my lighter away into my pocket.
Anonymous, Year 8 High Achiever English
The Young Girl’s Manor
I tip-toed to towards the Young Girl’s Manor. Quietly working up my way to prove my theory is right. I can feel the young girl’s energy even though she passed, I’m not crazy just an average explorer that knows his science. I reach the arch trees, “Hello?” I call. The branch tress rustle & rattle, as I see her & the house. It’s like a beautiful work of art, the ones where you see one drawn design & another when you look at it different. At this moment I’m seeing a girl’s face, from her stone lips, to her branchy hair, & to her “house” face. The branches stop still after the loud whistling of the wind, & I see her past. Her head-like house on fire, crying for help in her ghost-art life. Poor, poor girl & her fiery past. The house seems to be on fire too. Her furious fire burns even higher.
Anonymous, Year 8 High Achiever English
Every Day
It was a normal day in Bluems Town. Every one moping around with there heads hung low. The “Death Fish” as the town called it, was about to take its daily route through the town to find the happiest person to take back to the lake to have for Lunch. The elderly ladies carried their shopping, the men had the hats on, and the kids inspected the concrete in front of them. They all walked slowly down the street. No one wanted to be picked but everyday someone would be and there would be one more sad family, one more funeral, and one more headstone placed. Every day.
Anonymous, Year 8 High Achiever English
The GIANT Skull
I stumbled upon the giant skull by chance, as I was exploring the wilds of the desert. At first, I thought it was an optical illusion, but as I got closer, it became clear that it was a real skull the size of a small house. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to climb up to the top of the skull, using the old ladder that was leaning against it. The climb was unique, and I had to be careful not to lose my footing on the slippery surface. Finally, I reached the top, and I was amazed by the view. It was like standing on top of a mountain, with the endless expanse of the desert stretching out before me. As I sat there, lost in thought, I heard a strange sound. It was like a low rumble, coming from deep within the skull. I looked down and saw that the eye sockets were glowing with an eerie light. Suddenly, I realized that I wasn't alone. There was someone else on top of the skull with me, but their face was hidden in the shadows. I tried to scramble down the ladder, but it was too late. The person reached out and grabbed me by the ankle, pulling me back up. I was terrified, but as the person stepped into the light, I saw that it was an old man, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. He explained that he had been living on top of the skull for years, and that he had learned to communicate with the spirits that haunted it. As we sat and talked, I realized that the skull was not a place of fear, but a place of wonder and mystery. And I felt grateful to have experienced it, and to have met the old man who had made it his home.
By Jack Murphy
