Nov 09
fiction 3 comments challenge: Club
22donam's picture

This guy asked me to join his club


"Mate, this guy just asked me yesterday if I wanted to join his club."


"Woah, what'd ya say?"


"Well obviously I asked him what it was about, you know?"


"Don't tell me it was some kinda cult or somethin' freaky like that."


"Geez no, he said it was a book club."


"Oh yeah? Sounds chill."


"And then I asked him if you could come, cause I thought you would love to go."


"Aww that's sweet."


"But then this jerk is like "No way your friend's got issues" 


"UM RUDE"


"I KNOW"


"WHERE IS HE I'M GONNA WHOOP HIS A**"


"DON'T EVEN WORRY MATE I SMACKED HIM ALL THE WAY TO KANSAS"


"Haha oml, thanks for that"


"No problem mate, anyone that's got beef with you has got beef with me"
Oct 19

The Jump

The Jump
My feet crunched the snow as my thick boots led me toward the hill. It was mid-winter, a warmer day than most, and the tramping was making my forehead sweat. My friend Clementine was ahead of me, my short legs and puffy snowsuit weighing me down-and slowing me down. Finally, I reached the top of the hill. I sat down, not caring if my butt got wet or not. Mindlessly, my mittens picked up a ball of snow and packed it evenly. This was the best packing snow of the winter. It was the perfect mixture of wet and fluffy, a combination rare at least to Vermont. Judson, another friend, was thinking the same thing.
Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
TenDaysofWinter1892.mp3
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Oct 13
Peter Gustafson's picture

week 7 Perfect


Agatha Daley

Age Eleven

Essex Junction

Young Writers Project

Week Seven Contest

Perfect 

    I awake feeling well rested as my alarm sounds, playing the introduction to Dolly Parton’s Jolene. I peek over the wood on my loft bed to see my dog snuggled up in his bed. “Morning Baxter!” I cooed as if he were to understand me. 

    I look at the date. Friday, October Eleventh. That would mean we have to run the mile today. I walk down the steps onto my clean room. The air is crisp, and when I look outside, the woods in my backyard have turned to various beautiful colors, yellow, orange, and one of my favourite trees’ leaves turned pink. 

    As I’m getting ready for school. I hear the doorbell ring. It was my friend Mary. We usually either bike or take the bus together. Today was Monday, so we take the bus. “You ready to go?” Mary asks inviting herself in. 
Oct 13
Peter Gustafson's picture

Week 6 Winrer 2019


Alice Breen age 11

Essex Junction

YWP contest 6 Winter’of 2019

Winter

Winter will come every year   

Winter will whisper   

Have no fear, 

  Winter will whistle through the trees   

And laugh

As she moves with ease

Winter loves to see a happy face

It makes her smile

As she moves from place

To place.

 I get to see you every year

 Skating on the ponds

 You have no fear

  Climbing on the trees 

And laugh

As you move with ease

Everyone has such happy faces

As I move 

To different places
 
Oct 12

Namikk gets stabbed by a fork (an excerpt from my novel.)

   (A/N: This is another excerpt from my novel! It's not in order, this is a piece from the middle, so it might be a bit confusing, but please read it! I'd love feedback!)

   Namikk had truly screwed up this time, and there was no denying it. He had no food, only a few hundred dollars that had to last him for god knows how long, and he was in a strange city he didn’t even know how to pronounce the name of. (Was it pronounced May-tune-shire? Or Mee-ton-shirr? Or something else entirely…) 

   Not to mention it was freezing outside. No, that didn’t even need to be mentioned. He dearly wished that he had taken a warmer coat. A longer one, too, would have been nice. The wad of money in his pants pocket was making him nervous; it was too visible, wasn’t it? He was likely to get robbed.
Oct 12
c.mcintire's picture

The Dead Zone

    It was a late night driving home, when the check engine light on my car started flickering. Unfortunately, I was in a dead zone, therefore unable to call for help. I waited for a while to see if someone would pass by. After about an hour of waiting, I lost my patience and started walking towards the closest town, 7 miles East. I brought my backpack, held onto my flashlight and hoped I’d be there soon or would be able to get a ride. Thirty or so minutes into the walk, I started getting freaked out. Nothing in particular has happened, however after a bit of time in the dark night surrounded by simply your thoughts, you tend to overthink things. The temperature started to drop, and the hairs on my neck begin to rise. I had been walking for quite awhile now, and I should have been arriving shortly. 
Oct 11
Clara.bartlett's picture

The haunted house

I walked by the house everyday. It had always given me the chills but I just ignored it. It was October 31st, halloween. Apparently the house was abandoned so some people put on a haunted house in it. I didn’t want to go but my friends convinced me, I had the mindset of “what could possibly go wrong?” What I didn’t know was how much would go wrong. We walked in and something grabbed my foot from under the table right inside the front door. Just some kid from my school helping out for community service. It was weird seeing the inside of the house for the first time. The walls peeling away exposing the pink insulation, the creaky old wood floors, very roomy if it wasn’t filled with smoke and darkness. My friends and I walk through the curtain of “bones” and entered the haunted house. It was a pretty basic haunted house. The guy with the mask and the chainsaw without a chain on it, the zombies reaching for you, the blood splattered on the walls. There were dead people everywhere.
Oct 11
Clara.bartlett's picture

The haunted house

I walked by the house everyday. It had always given me the chills but I just ignored it. It was October 31st, halloween. Apparently the house was abandoned so some people put on a haunted house in it. I didn’t want to go but my friends convinced me, I had the mindset of “what could possibly go wrong?” What I didn’t know was how much would go wrong. We walked in and something grabbed my foot from under the table right inside the front door. Just some kid from my school helping out for community service. It was weird seeing the inside of the house for the first time. The walls peeling away exposing the pink insulation, the creaky old wood floors, very roomy if it wasn’t filled with smoke and darkness. My friends and I walk through the curtain of “bones” and entered the haunted house. It was a pretty basic haunted house. The guy with the mask and the chainsaw without a chain on it, the zombies reaching for you, the blood splattered on the walls. There were dead people everywhere.
Oct 11
Noquell_21's picture

The House

    We all know the one house. Yes that one, the one next to the elementary school. The one that is all beaten and broken down almost like a hovel, barley still standing. Extremely raggedy and creepy. Whenever you see it you can’t help but think of all the nasty things kids have seen inside. That one kid, who claimed to have seen a dead body lying on the ground in the beaten down shack, or that other older kid who says that he saw the ghosts of all the dead people in the town, lurking in the shadows within. Or your best friend who said he saw the devil himself feasting on the souls of evil. That house gives everyone the chills to even think about, and people can’t even look at it without wondering what the real mystery behind that house is. Little do all those poor children know... it’s me lurking in the shadows of the house, something much worse than they could’ve ever imagined.
 
Oct 11
mckenna_smith's picture

Haunted

“Bang” goes my door as I slam it behind me. I bounce down my front steps and start to walk down my driveway. I have to walk to school today because my brother has an appt. and my parents are at work. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes to get there and I hope I’m not late. I have to go through 22nd street, which is where all the nice houses with manicured lawns are. I’m turning onto it now. I wish I could live here, in a house like one of these, but my family doesn’t have the money for it. I love looking at the houses and how pretty they are. There’s this one house that I particularly like. It’s absolutely gorgeous with flowers in the front and big French doors. I’m admiring it when I see an extremely run down house next to it. It’s small and dilapidated and I’ve never seen it before. It’s not like I come here all the time but I swear that house has never been here. If they were to add a house to the neighborhood it would be like the other ones right?
Oct 11
mckenna_smith's picture

Haunted

“Bang” goes my door as I slam it behind me. I bounce down my front steps and start to walk down my driveway. I have to walk to school today because my brother has an appt. and my parents are at work. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes to get there and I hope I’m not late. I have to go through 22nd street, which is where all the nice houses with manicured lawns are. I’m turning onto it now. I wish I could live here, in a house like one of these, but my family doesn’t have the money for it. I love looking at the houses and how pretty they are. There’s this one house that I particularly like. It’s absolutely gorgeous with flowers in the front and big French doors. I’m admiring it when I see an extremely run down house next to it. It’s small and dilapidated and I’ve never seen it before. It’s not like I come here all the time but I swear that house has never been here. If they were to add a house to the neighborhood it would be like the other ones right?
Oct 11
aidan morse's picture

hunted


HUNTED

    It’s Halloween night, as I walked past the creepy house, on the corner of my street. People said that a man died in that house, in the late 90s. 

    “Go inside,” said the ninja standing next to me, “go in and I’ll all my candy.” This was a very good offer because it just so happens that this kid went to all the rich people's houses then came to this house to make the same deal. 

    “Ok” I say stepping up to go inside. Inside the house there was nothing wrong with it. It was just an ordinary house that could use a little work. I was there for about fifteen minutes. When I came out the ninja handed over all the full sized candy bars. 

    So now every summer I work on the house and then on Halloween I have a big party and that kid is dumb and gives his candy to the first kid who went in the house.
Oct 11
Ms. Naugle's picture

The Story Behind the Haunted Box

Emma had never believed in ghost stories. Until one happened to her.

Every twelve-year-old in New Orleans had heard the story of Freya, Rafferty, and The Box. It went like this...

"A hundred years ago, there was a couple. The girl was Freya and the boy was Rafferty.

One day, a mysterious figure appeared at the couple's door. It was Death. He told Freya it was time for her husband. Freya was so worried she trapped Rafferty in a huge box. However, Death has his ways.

Rafferty died, and Freya was cursed to roam the earth forever. Rafferty's ghost stayed with her, and the couple looked to have the same fate happen to other loves around the world. Their spirits still roam the earth today."

Emma never thought of it as real until she moved to a creepy abandoned house. Emma's life really started getting strange when she and her sister Evelyn went outside to play and found a creepy old box.

"Tar anseo," moaned the box.
Oct 11
Ms. Naugle's picture

To Be Continued


There once was a boy named Gerald. To be continued...
Oct 11
Ms. Naugle's picture

Black Piranha


I'm in the Amazon Rainforest, swimming in a river, and then blood starts gushing out of my leg! I swim as fast as I can out of the water.

I limp out onto the shore. The blood is gushing out like a tsunami.

When I get to shore, I pass out.
Oct 11
Ms. Naugle's picture

Flames


They light up the starry night, especially before you could flip a switch to get the power of a million flames.
Oct 11
Ms. Naugle's picture

Staples


They're just like tape, which is why I don't know why doctors use staples like stitches, but they don't use tape.