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Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 14-18 age group

28/10/2016

Nostalgia by Rebecca Cole
First Prize Short Story 14-18 year olds

From my stomach, that’s where this pain started. Like a small marble rolling around on the wooden floorboards that line the bottom of this boat. I lift my eyes to the stars as the waves provide a water bed on which the sky sleeps. The pain has dissipated now. It’s in my blood. It’s in my veins being pumped without permission. It’s forcing me to feel when all I want is numbness.

Feel. The dark night is lit by the breeze that brushes my hair across my nose, sticking to the makeup that is smudged in an unsightly way over my peppered face.
It’s surging now, convulsing. My throat is a trapdoor; my words are caught between my tongue and teeth. Like water entering my lungs, constricting, compressing, suffocating my already fragile breath. Like a pit, dug deep in my chest, aching to be filled.

I grip the side of this boat and the sea splashes, sparingly along my knuckles. Alright! Enough! I tear the pale handkerchief in my teeth and lay myself down upon the splinters. The salty air rests itself on my nose.

Bullets. The golden sand that once was mistaken for treasure was now stained the colour of deep and dying roses. The mountains, governing the valley, stood permanently snow-capped, a necklace of frosty clouds hung lowly.

That day the sun struggled feebly down the crack in the wall plaster, illuminating the dust like fairy lights I once saw at school. Once. School. A long time ago.
That night my Father, his beard so long it touched the rim of his tea cup, rolled me into a blanket, like I was a food inside pita bread.

“Abbi?” my voice was worn with sleep, grated, whispering.

“Hush, my darling, the Sun is still sleeping. You do not want to wake Him.”

I wanted to trust him, to believe that the noise outside my plywood walls, the yells, the screams... I wanted to trust him that those noises would not wake the sun, that it would not wake me.

Fire. It roared out of the mouths of the stone buildings, engulfing everything.

Water. Drifted us away, tried to make us stay, indecisive, without reason, couldn’t be reasoned with.

And on those fateful nights my father would lift my eyes unto the stars.

“Be still, daughter. Know that I am with you.” He, with his course hands from working, he, with his weary smile, he gently tucked a white handkerchief into my frightened figures.

And so I twist it. The pain now gone. Tears have cleaned the makeup off my face. The boat is still.

I look into the heavens and see the beauty of the space, the constellations, the nebulas in all their miraculous colours as if God himself took a paintbrush and carefully sculpted the very essence of the universe. And when I look up to the skies, I remember the stars, the boat, the water and the fire. I remember my Abbi, he will come back.

Untitled by Aalliyah Woods
First Prize Illustration 14-18 year olds

A 'Place' Far From My Own by Sarah Plant
First Prize Poetry 14-18 year olds

She lives in a ‘place’ so faraway.
A ‘place' where love is exiled…

She is a wife deprived of sanity;
From a man who thrives on profanity!

Her face resembles the turmoil of torture.
The heartache of hopelessness,
And the darkest depths of despair.

For she is a soul that has been restrained,
And forced to endure pain.

A woman stripped of her name,
And told she is to blame.

A victim of Domestic Violence…

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Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 10-13 age group

7/10/2016

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The Red Hood: The Classroom of Doom by Katie Henderson
First Prize Short Story 10-13 year olds

The stars shine high above my head, casting a pale glow over my destination: the Tower of London. That's where the Queen's precious crown jewels sit on their ancient velvet pillow. Tonight was the night. Tonight The Red Hood was going to obliterate the record as the youngest thief ever to steal the crown jewels. A challenge worthy of my talents. Shame I wouldn't get to keep them – GRANDMA had made me promise to return them after two weeks. Still, it would be hilarious to see the fuss I caused; a plain 13-year-old with braces. I crept towards the tower and started scaling the wall, fingers slipping easily into the gaps between the bricks. Soon I was at the top of the wall, a guard started to turn towards me and...

“Jasmine, could you please answer question 15?” the voice asked. Strange, it sounded just like Mr Grem. Before my eyes, the Tower of London melted away and I was left sitting in a hard plastic chair, with Mr Grem, the owner of the voice, staring at me desperately. Blinking, I looked down at the book on my small, white desk. I began searching frantically for question 15. There it was, second last.

“110, sir,” I answered, hoping it was correct.

“Finally,” he roared. “Someone who has been paying attention to my lessons!” I couldn't help smiling. If only he knew. Around me I heard my classmates whisper 'teacher's pet' and 'geek', followed by 'freak'. I groaned inwardly and wished, not for the first time, that I didn't have to be undercover. In fact, they should count themselves lucky that I was; otherwise, I probably would have made their school experience a lot more uncomfortable a long, long time ago.

I looked up at the the clock above Mr Grem's balding head. It proudly proclaimed that 2:30pm was, rather unfortunately, the time. I scowled at it. Why was it that when I was on a job, time was my best buddy, but here in the classroom, my immortal enemy? Why did it make home time – and those beautiful gems – so far away? Mr Grem started talking again and I tried to pay attention as best as I could. Slowly, painfully, the seconds trickled by, followed sloth-like by the minutes. After what felt like an age, it was 3:00pm. Home time, precious home time, was only half an hour of boredom away.

At last the bell rang. The beautiful bell, freeing me from the classroom of doom. In a blink I packed up my things and shoved them into the depths of my backpack. Around me, other kids were doing the same. Finally I would be free of Mr Grem and his navy blue suit. Free of the whitewashed halls. Free of the screaming jostling kids. I raced through the winding corridors and out the front entrance, my mind already far away, sneaking towards those royal jewels.

Untitled by Artche Maligat
First Prize Illustration 10-13 year olds

Why you Shouldn't be Tempted by Callum Farquhar
First Prize Poetry 10-13 year olds

Confectionary surrounds me,
Pink, blue, green colours filling me with joy,
She’s standing straight, looking down, foot tapping angrily.
My knees thud on the floor, hands grasp together,
She turns around rudely and storms off,
I clench my fist and grind my teeth together,
Then shrug my little shoulders and stare at the candy again,
I finally pick a sweet raspberry lollipop,
I swivel around, but I don’t see her paying.
I start to feel butterflies and look around me.
My tiny scared heart bangs up against my chest.
Everything makes me seem small, faraway, vulnerable.
I drop my candy and sprint around the aisles in panic,
I race out the store, my mother sitting down on a bench.
Relief fills my body, soon turning to guilt as she yells at me over and over again.

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Making Plancakes

Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 14-18 age group

Nostalgia by Rebecca Cole
First Prize Short Story 14-18 year olds

Untitled by Aalliyah Woods
First Prize Illustration 14-18 year olds

A 'Place' Far From My Own by Sarah Plant
First Prize Poetry 14-18 year olds

Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 10-13 age group

The Red Hood: The Classroom of Doom by Katie Henderson
First Prize Short Story 10-13 year olds

Untitled by Artche Maligat
First Prize Illustration 10-13 year olds

Why you Shouldn't be Tempted by Callum Farquhar
First Prize Poetry 10-13 year olds

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Making Plancakes

Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 14-18 age group

Nostalgia by Rebecca ColeFirst Prize Short Story 14-18 year olds

Untitled by Aalliyah Woods​First Prize Illustration 14-18 year olds​

A 'Place' Far From My Own by Sarah Plant​First Prize Poetry 14-18 year olds

Faraway Competition - First Prize Winners 10-13 age group

​The Red Hood: The Classroom of Doom by Katie HendersonFirst Prize Short Story 10-13 year olds

Untitled by Artche MaligatFirst Prize Illustration 10-13 year olds

Why you Shouldn't be Tempted by Callum FarquharFirst Prize Poetry 10-13 year olds

Creative Write-it

Archives

Categories

Creative Write-it is based in Melbourne, Australia.

Ask how we can help your young writer today!

Nostalgia by Rebecca Cole
First Prize Short Story 14-18 year olds

Untitled by Aalliyah Woods
First Prize Illustration 14-18 year olds

A 'Place' Far From My Own by Sarah Plant
First Prize Poetry 14-18 year olds

The Red Hood: The Classroom of Doom by Katie Henderson
First Prize Short Story 10-13 year olds

Untitled by Artche Maligat
First Prize Illustration 10-13 year olds

Why you Shouldn't be Tempted by Callum Farquhar
First Prize Poetry 10-13 year olds