“I’m back,” Jim told Reece, his mouth full with donut. “Looks like you’ve been working hard! Good thing I bought us a little snack!”

Reece put down the weights he was lifting. “Snack?” He said, glancing at the pink plastic bag that Jim was holding.

“Donut holes!” Jim said cheerfully.

“No way! I thought they only sold these in America!”

“I thought so too, but I saw these in the store and knew I had to buy them!”

Jim and Reece sat on the grey mat, chomping down on the donut holes while everyone else in the gym continued exercising. Jim took a loud sip of juice while Reece stared at him.

“Can you pass me my juice?” Reece asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t get you one, I thought you didn’t like juice,” Jim replied, shrugging.

“Who doesn’t like juice?”

Reece stood up. “I’ll be right back.” And he set off.

Reece walked inside the nearest coffee shop. “Ok, so I will have a…” He paused while looking up at the board listing all of the options for drinks. “I think I’ll just have an orange juice, thanks.”

“Right away,” said the woman taking his order. “So, where’re you coming from?” She asked, trying to make conversation.

“Why? Don’t I look like an English lad?” Reece asked, putting on a terrible accent. The woman laughed, shaking her head.

“Ok, you got me. I’m here from the United States with my friend Jim, we met in University.”

“America… I’ve been there, once, I went to Vancouver a few years ago.”

Reece started laughing. “Canada isn’t a part of America”

The woman chuckled. Americans hated that. “Ok, here’s your juice, what’s your name?” She asked, with a pen over the plastic juice cup.

“Reece.” The woman got halfway through writing the name before Reece said, “With a C, not an S. I was named after Reece’s Pieces. My dad loves them.”

“So do I.” The woman handed Reece the juice.

“Have a good day,” Reece squinted at the woman’s name tag, “Amanda.”

“Thanks, you too.” Amanda replied.

Reece walked out of the store. He looked down at the juice, and right below his name with the crossed-out S, he saw a phone number written on it.

Jim had eaten most of the donut holes when Reece got back to the gym. He was combing back his chocolate brown coloured hair. Jim had the same haircut for as long as Reece had known him; a mullet, although his hair was shorter when Reece had met him, and he hadn’t grown his moustache then.

Reece on the other hand, had short blonde hair, and was quite muscular, he looked like what you’d think of when you thought of a fit young American.

“You took a while.”

“Sorry, I was making small talk.”

Reece and Jim came home quite late that night, they were laughing all the way up the staircase of their apartment while telling each other funny stories about themselves when they were younger. Jim put a box of pizza into the microwave. “I’m just going to get changed, I’ve stayed in these sweaty clothes the whole day!” Reece shouted. He put on his green pyjamas but noticed something smudged onto his hand. Reece had written down Amanda’s phone number on his hand to make sure he didn’t forget.

He dialled the number into his phone and waited.

“Hello? This is Amanda,” came Amanda’s voice.

“Hey, this is Reece. You gave me an orange juice, and we made small talk. Maybe you don’t remember me.”

“Oh… the Reece’s Pieces guy! I’ve been waiting hours!”

“Haha, sorry, sorry. So… How are you?”

Amanda and Reece talked for a long time, leaving Jim alone to eat his microwaved pizza.

“I think I’ve got go now, but do you want to meet some time?”

“Sure, I work at the coffee shop Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Weekends or anytime between that’s fine.”

“Ok, meet me at the park right outside of your coffee shop on…  Saturday, three pm.”

“Sounds good.” She hung up. Reece sighed.

When he came back out to the living room, Jim was deep asleep, snoring on the couch with the now empty pizza box on the carpeted floor. Reece put a blanket over Jim, then walked into the bedroom and also fell asleep.

The next morning Jim was still asleep when Reece woke up. ‘Off to buy breakfast -Reece.’ He scribbled down on a torn piece of paper.

When he came back to the apartment, Reece toasted the bread and cooked the eggs that he had bought from the supermarket. He heard a yawn behind him and looked back.

“Ahhhh, you’re awake! Only took you forever!”

“What’re you making?”

“Eggs on toast.”

Jim yawned again. He still looked a bit tired. “Where’d you go last night?”

“Oh, yeah… Listen, I’m really sorry, I was making a phone call, but I didn’t know it’d take that long.”

“I was out there, waiting, for like, half an hour.”

“Jim, I’m sorry, really.”

Jim sighed. “It’s fine, you know how I get cranky when I just wake up…”

Three PM rolled around quicker than Reece expected. Jim was busy watching some TV show about a murderer. “Hey Jim, I’m just going to go out for a little while… That ok with you?”

“No way! The sister did it!? His own sister killed him!? I liked her! Sorry, what was that Reece?”

Reece waited in the park where they planned to meet, when suddenly, Amanda jumped up behind him.

“Hi!” She said cheerfully.

“Hi,” he said, less enthusiastically but still with a smile.

“Where would you like to go first?”

“Well… There’s a nice cafe around here…”

They walked awkwardly without saying anything until they found the cafe.

“Table for two, please,” Amanda said to someone who worked there. Reece skimmed over the menu.

“Is the hot chocolate good?”

“Terrible. It tastes like…” She paused, thinking what to compare it to. “Vegetarian meat. Yeah, that’s a perfect example.”

Reece chuckled. “I once considered becoming a vegetarian… Didn’t work out, though, I only lasted a few hours.” Amanda smiled.

“I think you should grow a moustache.”

At first, Reece didn’t say anything, then he started laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yeah, you’d look good with one.”

Reece started touching his upper lip. “A moustache…” He muttered to himself.

“May I take your orders?” the waiter asked.

“I will have a… lemon meringue pie, please,” Amanda told the waiter. She quickly wrote it down on a notepad.

“Very good, and you sir?” She asked, now addressing Reece.

“A blueberry muffin will do, thanks.” The waiter walked away.

“How long have you lived in London for?” Amanda asked Reece.

“Six months now. How about you?”

“I was born in Italy, but I’ve lived in London my whole life.”

“Ever thought of going on an adventure? Some place you’ve never been before?”

“Yeah… London’s a beautiful city, but I’d like to go on an adventure around Europe, maybe even the world, but I can’t get that type of money working part time at a coffee shop…”

“Then why don’t you quit? Get a better job, save up some money, and then do what you want to do?” Amanda sighed.

“It’s not that simple. If I could, I would. Just quit. Become an artist. That’s what I really want to do…” Amanda shook her head.

“Here you are, a lemon meringue pie for you.” The waiter put the pie in front of Amanda. “And a blueberry muffin for you.” She put the muffin in front of Reece.

The muffin was much crumblier than Reece had expected it to be.

“This place is the best! Except for their hot chocolate,” Amanda said.

“Yeah, this is good,” Reece replied.

Reece glanced up at a clock on the wall. He had been gone for about an hour. Jim was probably still watching the TV show, but Reece still didn’t want to leave him too long like he had done the day before.

“I think I should start heading home…” Reece told Amanda.

“Alright.”

“We should meet up for dinner together. There’s an Italian restaurant that me and Jim go to all the time.”

“Great. See you at… Seven?”

“Sure.”

But before Reece left, Amanda gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

When Reece came back to the apartment, Jim still had his eyes glued to the television. “Oh hey Reece,” Jim said, finally turning off the TV.

“Hi Jim. Did you finish watching that murder TV show?”

“Oh you mean Who & Why? No, I’m on the final episode. How was wherever you went?”

“Good, good. All good.”

“Did you miss me?”

Reece laughed but stopped. Jim had a strange look on his face. “What?” Reece asked. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… Just, nothing. Well, we’ve known each other for a while now, and I…”

Reece spoke quickly. “We’re friends, Jim, and we’ll always be friends.”

“I’m just saying. I think there’s something, I don’t know…” Jim said. He looked in pain, but like he also wanted to say more.

“Hey, listen”. Reece paused. “Are you good with going to that great Italian place tonight? With a friend of mine and me? You know.. The- What was it called! Elipino’s! That’s the place!”

“Sure, yeah.” Jim said unsurely, looking at the ground.

Reece and Jim didn’t say anything to each other until seven o’clock rolled around.

“Time to go. Come on Jim,” Reece said quietly.

“Hi Amanda. This is my friend Jim.” Jim and Amanda shook hands. They found a table to sit at.

“I recommend the spaghetti bolognese,” Reece said looking down at the menu.

“No, the pesto pasta’s better,” Jim mumbled, locking eyes with Reece before quickly looking away.

“Gee, I don’t know what to pick. It all looks quite nice…” Amanda said hesitantly.

“You know what this place is famous for? Their splits, you can get a split of anything; lasagne and pizza, spaghetti bolognese and pesto pasta, you name it!” Reece said.

“That sounds a bit gross,” said Amanda. “I think I’ll just settle for pesto pasta.” Amanda started humming a song while taking a sip of water.

“You know Who & Why?” Asked Jim, unexpectedly.

“Jim, what…“ Reece began saying but was cut off.

“Oh, yeah. It’s the perfect TV show! What part are you up to?”

Jim and Amanda talked about the show for almost the entire time they were at the restaurant, leaving Reece to sit and eat his spaghetti quietly while no one was paying attention to him whatsoever.

“I didn’t believe it when I found out the sister killed him! She was always so nice, and when you learn that she did kill him, you look at the funeral speech a whole other way!” Amanda was saying.

“This sounds like a pretty good show…” Reece said, hoping that would help him into the conversation.

“Oh, it is,” Amanda said, taking a bite of her pesto pasta.

“Anyway… So your theory is that the dad killed him?”

“I mean yeah, new episodes are still coming out, and it would make more sense, he had the motive and everything.”

All three of them returned to the apartment that night (Amanda wanted to see it). “I’ve got to go to the bathroom…” Reece muttered. He quickly went, but when he walked out of the bathroom, Jim and Amanda had vanished.

“Hello?” He called out. He searched for a little while, but Reece and Amanda weren’t there. Reece opened the door leading to the hallway and walked out onto the unstained baby blue carpet. As he turned his head, Reece managed to see, but only barely, two figures running down the hall and quickly turning a corner.

Written by Lucy Martin. Ten-year-old student from Western Academy of Beijing.

What inspired the story: My motivation for writing this story is that I’d like to be an author when I grow up. I came up with the plot idea from an episode of a TV show called ‘Poker Face’. The episode was about a crime being committed in a gym, but I wanted to tell a story about two close friends and then expanded the idea from there. When I was about midway through writing, my Dad told me about this competition, so I had a good reason to finish the story.

Images: FreePik

Last night, I was in my room watching a super boring show that my mom picked for me. Suddenly, the whole house went quiet. It was really creepy! I walked out of my room to see what was going on – and I couldn’t believe my eyes. The Reaper was there, holding my mom in a bag and getting ready to throw her out the window!

I jumped into action right away. I summoned my magic sword and fought the Reaper with all my strength. I finally won and saved my mom! But it wasn’t over yet. The Reaper dropped a ripped-up piece of paper with a bloodstain on it. Just then, my mom fainted, so I dragged her to her bed and started putting the paper puzzle together.

By morning, I had finished the puzzle while Mom was sipping her coffee. The message said:
“GO BACK HOME. YOU ENTER YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE!!!”

I had no idea what that meant. I was already home in Munich! Then I remembered – I’ve lived in other places before, like Beijing and California. Maybe “home” meant one of those! I decided it must be Beijing. The only problem was, I couldn’t go to China until summer break. Luckily, that was just two days away!

When vacation finally came, I raced to the airport, hopped on a plane and waited (kind of impatiently) until we landed in China. But when we got to the hotel … my mom disappeared again! My heart sank. Was this the nightmare the Reaper warned me about? I shuddered just thinking about it.

Then, something amazing happened – I ran into my old friend Maddie! I hadn’t seen her since second grade. I told her everything: the Reaper, the mystery message, the missing mom. Maddie said she wanted to help. I was so happy! Together, we went to the graveyard because, well, the Reaper is kind of dead, right?

We searched everywhere until we suddenly heard a scream! We ran as fast as we could and stopped in front of a spooky grave. We dug it up and – you won’t believe this – we found my mom!

My mom was shivering so much that I thought she was going to burst! Maddie quickly grabbed her and carried her to a bench so Mom could rest while I explored the spooky graveyard. Suddenly, two people came running toward us – and in the nick of time, I recognized them! It was my friends Calista and Hanna. They said they heard what happened and decided to ditch their plans to come and help. I was so relieved and happy they were there!

An hour passed, and I was starting to feel really tired. Just as I was about to sit down, Hanna shouted, “HEY! COME LOOK AT THIS!!!” I jumped up and ran over to see what she’d found. There was a shovel on the ground with another ripped-up paper next to it. The paper said, “LEAVE AT ONCE!!!”

We were so scared that we ran away as fast as we could. Suddenly, I understood what the message meant – the Reaper was chasing us! But then I remembered something terrible – my mom was still back at the graveyard! At the same moment, Maddie realized it too. She dodged the Reaper’s long arms, grabbed my mom, and carried her to safety.

We rushed back to the hotel with my terrified mom and tried to figure out what to do next. We decided to check out the city from up high, so we went to the rooftop of the hotel. When I looked down carefully at all the tall buildings, I noticed something strange. Together, the lights formed a message:
“FORGET ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU FOUND AND LIVE A NORMAL LIFE.”

But I didn’t want to forget any of it! So I ignored the message and followed my friends outside to a water park. It was really weird because nobody was swimming; everyone was completely still. Then, out of nowhere, my friends froze, too. Before I could move, I started to freeze myself … until, in less than a minute, I was frozen solid.

I looked at Calista and Hanna, and right away I could tell, they were faking it! I just knew they were hiding something. They saw that I found out their secret, so they stopped pretending and told Maddie and me what they had been doing the whole time.

Hanna said, “We were actually working for the Reaper.”
Then Calista added, “We were supposed to trap you and your mom and Maddie so the Reaper could take your souls.”

Before I could even say anything, a blueish glow started shining right in my chest! Hanna looked at me with wide eyes and said, “That’s your soul!” Then my soul started swirling around me like a tornado of light, and in a flash of blue, I was free! I used my powers to free Maddie too, and together we stood up to Hanna and Calista.

I told them, “If you stay on the Reaper’s side, you’ll only have misery. But if you stand with us, you’ll have friendship, happiness and joy!”

They thought about it, and after a moment, they decided they didn’t want misery anymore. They joined us for real this time! Hanna and Calista even told us where the Reaper’s hideout was, so we set off to find him.

When we got close, Maddie whined, “I’m hungry! I want roasted beef!”

I shouted, “NO! You can’t have roasted beef right now! You can wait nine hours! Once, I had to go a whole week eating only ice cream and I survived! You’ll be fine for nine hours without beef!”

Finally, we arrived at the Reaper’s hideout. He was waiting for us, grinning in the shadows. “I see my lackeys have brought you to me so I can take your souls,” he sneered.

But Hanna and Calista stepped forward and said, “We’re not on your side anymore! We’ve joined them!” and pointed at us.

The Reaper was furious. He jumped up, grabbed his sword and lunged! I summoned my sword just in time to block his attack. The clash echoed through the dark room. Then, out of nowhere, Maddie summoned her silver daggers and fought beside me! Together, we battled the Reaper for hours, sparks and magic flying everywhere.

At last, the Reaper fell into a pool of his own shadowy power. We had won. I turned to Maddie and asked with a grin, “Do you still want that roasted beef?” Then I handed her a coupon for a roasted beef restaurant. Maddie burst out laughing and started dancing around with joy.

That’s when my mom showed up out of nowhere holding bottles of sparkling cider, (okay, not champagne this time!), and poured everyone glasses to celebrate. Hanna and Calista thanked us for giving them another chance, and we all toasted to our victory.

We did it. The Reaper was gone. Friendship had really saved the day.

THE END

P.S. This story is dedicated to my pals in Beijing. Friends forever. Story inspired by Munich’s ghost tour with my buddy Hannah, who came to Munich to visit me.

Have a story buzzing in your brain, waiting to burst onto the page? Have you created characters on a grand adventure, or perhaps written a poem about a moment that took your breath away? If you’re a middle or high school student with a passion for creative writing, we want to hear from you!

Images: Freepik, Nola 

Meet Todd Shroom.  Todd is adorable. He is undeniably adorable. But you must know that Todd was created not like this version of himself; instead, he was born as a small, ordinary, natural mushroom in the mystic Mushroom Land.Mushroom Land is green with long pastures of flowers and grass, and among these pastures are loads of mushrooms. Mushrooms are scattered everywhere in small patches, and every variety of mushrooms can be found in these lands. However, though the land is grassy and green, the clouds in the sky never part. Not a single ray of sunshine is visible, just rows of grey, grey, gloomy clouds. Why? Because mushrooms cannot be exposed to light, or else they cannot grow. So, the wizard of the land cast a spell to cover the sky in clouds. But our story does not begin here in Mushroom Land, but rather in the magical bubble of the Fey. The Fey are magical creatures that have dove wings and only dress in white … except for the Dark Fey.

The White Fey are one of the most powerful creatures in the world, driving back evil demons and spirits, along with the help of Mother Earth. And the Chief Fey had been whipping up something magical. The Federal Magic Inspectors (aka FMI) visit each land in the world every fifty years to inspect the magic and life of the land. The Chief Fey created something to help recreate life in every land. But there was a catch to it: Before he gave the potion to the FMI, he told them to use the potion carefully. One drop, he told them, simply has the power to heal any wilting plants. Two drops can restore the plant to become more beautiful than ever, and three drops have the powerful effect of making the plant immortal. But a warning: Pour the entire potion onto a plant, and who knows what would happen. Then the FMI took the potion and flew off on their wings.

The operation was smooth, sprinkling the potion on all the plants, until the FMI reached Mushroom Land. As always, the sky was cloudy and grey, and the FMI gagged at the ugly sky. As they were flying through the sky, a sudden thunderstorm arose. They one FMI screamed as a lightning bolt hit the ground right next to them. Quickly, the FMI took to the sky and tried to escape. The Fey who had been told to hold the potion of life, who was the eldest one in the FMI, swiftly gave the potion to the clumsiest of the FMI, Clumsina, so she could create a forcefield.

Big mistake.

Within five seconds, Clumsina dropped the potion, and it tumbled down and down. Luckily, another Fey flew to grab it, but unfortunately, the strong wind knocked it out of her hands. Now there was nothing the FMI could do but watch in terror as the powerful gales tossed the potion around. At last, when the potion drew near again, one of the Fey took out her whip and tried to lasso the potion. Nope. That did not work. Instead, the whip hit the bottle, and it shattered into a million pieces, and the potion fell down to the ground.

Luckily, the liquid did not hit one of the mushrooms. Then th- oh, right. You must be wondering how Todd was born. Okay, I will tell you this: the potion did not move. But Todd did. The strong winds were still going, so strong that finally one of the mushrooms was ripped from the ground and went flying around in the sky. The one tiny mushroom was so light that it might have never landed!!! But thanks to the storm, one bolt of lightning hit the flying mushroom, and it was pinned down by the bolt, and the mushroom fell into the puddle from the potion of life. At first, nothing happened. The Fey sighed, thank goodness. But then, the purple potion began to bubble and pop around the mushroom, and then the mushroom bounced around the puddle like it was alive. Legs and arms popped from the places where they should be, and a mouth and eyes were suddenly visible. The strong winds now seemed to be coming from the mushroom; the Fey were pushed backwards, and the grass began to ripple. And then, KRRRR-BOOOOMMM!!!!!!!

Bright colors glittered in the sky, like a box of rainbows had just exploded. And then everything went white. Then the fog cleared, and a small mushroom was standing right where the puddle used to be. The little remarkable mushroom was adorable. Todd was adorable. Todd Shroom is adorable. Todd decided that what he wanted to do with his life was to become an herbalist, who makes concoctions with herbs and plants. He is now still alive, and still collecting seeds, plants and liquids of every sort. And so from this serendipitous mistake, the first-ever Mushroom herbalist in the world was born.

Have a story buzzing in your brain, waiting to burst onto the page? Have you created characters on a grand adventure, or perhaps written a poem about a moment that took your breath away? If you’re a middle or high school student with a passion for creative writing, we want to hear from you!

Images: Freepik, Clark Yap

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She wasn’t some great fairytale princess or anything. She was just a normal girl, like you and me. This girl grew up, got a career, had children, lived life the way life was supposed to be lived, and then she died.

That’s it.

That’s the end.

Gone. Kaput. Just like that.

Nothing could ever bring her back.

Cinderella’s fairy godmother wasn’t there to magic her back to life. Prince Charming wasn’t there to give her true love’s kiss. There wasn’t a curse to be lifted, or a quest to be completed. She wasn’t trapped in an enchanted sleep or poisoned by a evil witch.

It was simple, really.

Annabel Mary Brown died at age 34 in a car crash. She left behind a thirteen-year-old daughter, a grieving husband and a lifetime of buried hopes and dreams.

That is her story.

That was her life.

THE END

Now, it’s time to begin another story. This one is about a girl named Elle. A girl whose life flipped upside down at age 13 when her mother got into a horrific car crash. Elle still remembered the exact moment she and her father had received the call. Tuesday night, as they were eating lasagna and takeout from the nearby Chinese resteraunt and waiting for her mother to return from work, her father’s phone began to ring. Elle only remembered snatches and flashes of the conversation that had ensued, but what she would never forget was the way her father had turned ashy white, and the single, disbelieving word he had uttered:

“No.”

The later details were just a blur, moments lost in time, with only the bold, hard facts remaining: Annabel’s body was recovered from the wreck. It was cremated, and the ashes were thrown into the sea, just the way she would have wanted it, Elle’s father said.

Want.

It was a strange word. Definition: a desire, wish or need for something you didn’t have. What Elle wanted was to turn back time, talk to her mother and find some way to stop her from dying. If she was in a fairy tale, Elle thought, at this point some genie or fairy would descend from the heavens and answer her wishes. But this wasn’t a fairy tale. This was real life, and people didn’t always get what they wanted.

Day after day, month after month. Time passed on. Eventually, the memory began to hurt less. Elle recovered. Slowly. Then, something worse happened.

As she was cycling home from school one day, there was a shriek, a thump and then the furious sound of a car trying to brake. Elle barely had time to look up before a giant white minivan slammed straight into her. The world spun upside down, colors shifting into nothing. Distantly, Elle could hear people’s voices. A man, sounding panicked, saying: “Oh no. We better call the ambulance.” Then, the sensation that she was slowly being lifted. Though Elle fought to stay conscious, gradually all the noises grew softer and more detached and she began to feel herself fading away. Just as Elle felt certain that this was the end, a sharp, spidery little voice sounded in her head.

Ironic, isn’t it. Dying of a car crash just like your mother.

What? Elle felt certain that she was hallucinating.

And you had so much promise too. Never mind. I have come to collect you, child.

Who are you?

Me? I am everything and I am nothing. I am the darkness of the shadows and I am the wind in the trees. I am the silence and I am the cacophony of noise. They hate me and they fear me and yet they need me. My child, I am Death himself. And I have come to you at long last.

No. No! You can’t have me! Besides you can’t be death, that’s not possible! Please please let this be a nightmare.. Please tell me this isn’t real, Elle thought, feeling panicky and breathless all of a sudden. But indeed, it seemed realer than ever as the world around her began to morph and all of a sudden she was … in the middle of nowhere. That seemed to be the best description for the vast expanse of darkness she was surrounded by. Crooked, leafless trees that looked like old crones rose up in scraggly bunches around her, plumes of dust and smoke filled the air and the only source of light was a lone star, twinkling brightly in the night sky.

Not real? Child, you insult me for Death is the realest thing in the world. It is everywhere and it is nowhere and it will surround you with its embrace. Come now, I have no time for idle conversation. Come, child. Let me lead you away from this world.

Elle shuddered all over, as a clear vision of Death appeared in her mind. A tall figure cloaked in shadows reached spindly fingers towards her as she flinched away.

Don’t fight it, child.

I don’t want to die. Elle thought fervently. Let me stay. I’m begging you, please let me stay. My father, he needs me. He can’t cope with yet another death in his family. Listen, I have my whole life ahead of me. What about university? What about a career? What about everything that is yet to come? This can’t be my end. Not when my story hasn’t even started yet.

Death sighed, and it was a long, chilling gust of air that somehow filled the world with its sound of loneliness and despair.

My child, if only you knew the amount of times I have heard humans plead and pray for a chance to stay. I have collected infants that were newly born, snatched them from the arms of begging mothers. I have stolen the souls of those that had so much promise, so much potential and yet it was their time. I am the one who pens the words “The End” on the story of their lives and nothing you say will convince me to let you live.

For a moment, Elle thought of just listening to Death. It would be so easy, after all, to just curl up into a ball and let him take her away, where she could suffocate in a realm of silence and darkness. Perhaps she could even see her mother there! But then she thought of her father, and her schoolfriends, and all the days that were yet to come and all at once the number of unfinished things in Elle’s life shocked her. If she died now, she would never know what score she got on her algebra quiz, never get to eat the fabulous salmon Dad had said he was cooking for dinner tonight, never know if her best friend Max really did end up getting married to that handsome neighbor she was always gushing about, never get to redesign her room in the spring. Never, never, never.

It was as if her entire life was a stream of water, flowing from a tap until Death arrived and forcefully twisted the tap shut. Trickles and droplets of water still tried to escape, but eventually there was no more water. Dry. Barren. Desolate. That was what Elle imagined life after Death to be.

Life after Death. What a curious phrase.

And all of a sudden, Elle had an idea.

Death grabbed for her again, but Elle shifted away.

Wait. You say that each person’s life is a story. Elle said desperately. You are the one in charge of penning “The End” on their tales. You told me that my story ends here. But why?

Because it is written.

Then rewrite it.

Silence. Elle fixed her gaze on that single star, that one bit of hope in this land of despair.

Rewrite it? Death repeated, as if the concept was foreign to him.

Elle’s heart pounded. She had found something, a thread in the fabric of her fate, and if she pulled hard enough, maybe – just maybe – she could unravel it.

“Stories don’t have to end just because someone writes them down,” she argued. “They can change. New chapters can be added. A single rewording can turn a tragedy into something else.“

Death studied her for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached into the air beside him. A book appeared, a book with a rich brown cover and twisting spirals of gold engravings. A thin book with only a few pages. When Death opened it, Elle saw lines of elegant, shifting ink forming words she somehow knew were her own.

She saw her birth. Her first steps. Her mother’s death. The accident. The words spilled forward like water, rushing toward the final moment:

“Elle Mary Brown. Age thirteen. Died in a car accident.”

The End.

So final. So absolute. Her breath caught in her throat.

Death traced a skeletal finger along the final line of words, lingering there.

You are bold child. He murmured. Few dare question the ink of fate.

“That’s because they don’t realize they can,” Elle said, seizing the moment. “You’re the one who writes ‘The End,’ right? But that also means that you have the power to erase it.”

More silence. And just when Elle began to think that this was futile, that she was going to end up in a casket somewhere, buried without a hope of ever seeing the sky again, Death raised his hand over the book. His long fingers hovered over the words. The ink flickered, darkening, shifting, then slowly … melting away.

“The End” vanished.

The book trembled. Pages flipped wildly, as if caught in a storm. And then, suddenly, new words bled onto the parchment:

“Elle Mary Brown. Age thirteen. Almost died in a car accident.”

Death snapped the book shut.

Elle gasped as the world around her exploded in color, as if someone had turned the lights back on. She was falling and falling, her body snapping back to the moment before everything faded.

Her eyes flew open.

Fluorescent hospital lights burned above her. A sharp beeping filled the air. Her father’s frantic voice rang in the distance – “Elle? Elle!” – before she was engulfed in a crushing hug. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to her weeping father, rejoicing in the happiness of that moment.

Elle was alive.

She had turned the page.

And her story wasn’t over yet.

The End

Have a story buzzing in your brain, waiting to burst onto the page? Have you created characters on a grand adventure, or perhaps written a poem about a moment that took your breath away? If you’re a middle or high school student with a passion for creative writing, we want to hear from you!

Images: Freepik

Have a story buzzing in your brain, waiting to burst onto the page? Have you created characters on a grand adventure, or perhaps written a poem about a moment that took your breath away? If you’re a middle or high school student with a passion for creative writing, we want to hear from you!

We are launching a Creative Corner to showcase the incredible talent and imagination of young writers within our community. This is your chance to share your original stories, poems, and scripts with readers across Beijing and beyond.

Unleash Your Imagination

Your story can be anything you dream up!
Fiction: A sweeping fantasy epic, a gripping sci-fi mystery, a slice-of-life drama, or a spooky ghost story.
Poetry: Rhymed, free verse, haiku – any style that speaks to you.
Personal Narrative: A powerful true story from your own life, told with creative flair.
Plays/Scripts: A dramatic scene or a witty dialogue between unforgettable characters.

The only limits are the boundaries of your own creativity (and a few important rules to make sure it’s a positive experience for everyone).

The Rules to Follow

To make sure your submission can be considered, please keep these guidelines in mind:

1. It Must Be Your Own Original Work:
We want to read what you created. Please only submit stories and ideas that are entirely your own.
2. Mind the Word Count:
Keep your submission to a maximum of 2,000 words. This helps us read everyone’s work carefully.
3. Respect the Laws of the PRC:
All submissions must adhere to the laws of the People’s Republic of China. Please avoid any topics that are considered illegal or harmful – these include politics, satirical pieces about actual public figures, narcotics, violent crime, etc.

How to Submit Your Masterpiece

Ready to send us your work? Please include your creative writing piece and a short introduction about yourself.

Your introduction must include:
Your Name (or a pen name you’d like to be known by)
Your Age
Your School
Where you’re from
Why you wanted to write this story. What inspired you? What was the spark behind this idea? (2-3 sentences are perfect!)

Email everything to minayan@beijing-kids.com with the subject line: Creative Corner – Your Name

Our team will read every submission we receive but please note that while we will review all entries, not all will be selected for publication.

If your story is chosen, we will be in touch with you using the contact information you provided to let you know the great news and discuss the next steps!

This is more than just a writing contest; it’s a platform for your voice. It’s an opportunity to connect with other young writers in Beijing and to see your name in print.

So, open that notebook, fire up your laptop, and let those ideas flow. We can’t wait to read what you create.

Images: Freepik

An upcoming writing competition presented by Wrizing is coming to YOU soon!

Here are the requirements for it:

• All content should be school-appropriate and free of harsh themes, contents, or language.
• Submissions should be within a length limit of 50 lines maximum, not including titles and stanza breaks.
• All works should be submitted in the format of font size 12, Times New Roman. Double spacing is not required.
• Each individual may only submit once. Multiple submissions are not allowed.
• Only students are allowed to enter in the competition. An individual is only allowed to submit in their own division, either:
  • • Junior Division (11-14 years)
• Senior Division (15-18 years)
• All written submissions must be original and non-published. Plagiarism and the use of third-party works will result in disqualification.
• Works must be in English only. Other languages will not be accepted.
• Every work will be judged by a panel of judges, whose decisions will be final.
• The competition will close on February 28th, 2023. Late entries will not be accepted.
• For each category, there will be a first, second, and third place, as well as a special honorable mention award. Winners will receive a digital certificate.
• To submit your poem, please email wrizingarticles@outlook.com with the title “2023 student poetry competition” and your name, age, school, and division category. The PDF or word doc should only include your poem and its title (for the sake of anonymity while the judges judge).

Four incredible judges, ranging from a published poet to a co-founder of Spittoon Literary Magazine, will be judging your work.

We look forward to seeing you apply and wish you the best of luck!

Images: Wrizing, Pexels

If you are looking for more writing opportunities that range from publication to competitions to workshops, you might just be looking for Wrizing.

Wrizing combines a publishing house, a magazine, a writing network, and a writing competition all into one.

Founded in October 2022 by graduated Dulwich College Beijing student Helena 石榴, who is currently taking a gap year and publishing her second poetry book the sixteenth sense, Wrizing’s purpose is to connect writers from all ages within and outside of Beijing. Wrizing is a non-profit, international organization with a local foundation striving to cultivate a safe community for expression and exploration.

Wrizing is open to all, so writers can submit work of all genres and topics if contents are socially and culturally aware with no ill intent or hurtful commentaries. Wrizing appreciates and nurtures the art of writing and linguistic creativity while upholding the principles of being a global citizen.

The scope of Wrizing is broad: Subscribers will get issues and up-to-date information in their email boxes, and writers can submit their works to be featured on the website, attend Wrizing workshops and events to improve their writing skills, and try out for Wrizing’s upcoming writing competition.

Click here to check out Wrizing’s website: www.wrizing.com

Submit your writing digitally through email: wrizingarticles@outlook.com
Follow us on Instagram @wrizingmagazine

Images: Pexels

The Jingkids team is so very grateful and impressed by the submissions that we received for our Creative Writing Competition: October Horror Stories. Every piece of writing we received showed effort, daring and of course, creativity. While we all had our favorites, we opened up the voting to you, dear readers, to decide on whose horror story was the best, and you have spoken.

The winner is 15-year-old Molly Zhang, for her gripping narrative “Steak”! If you hadn’t read her story yet, you can do so here.

After reading that account, I think some of us might consider becoming vegetarian.

Molly has won a gift certificate worth RMB 998 to the fabulous afternoon tea at Beijing’s 5-star Rosewood Hotel, as well as one-of-a-kind Halloween pastries worth over RMB 300 from our generous sponsor Comptoirs de France.

We spoke to Molly over WeChat to tell her the news, and ask her how she felt about winning, as well as her inspiration for this dark tale…

JKI: Congratulations, Molly! How do you feel about winning the contest?

Molly: “I feel really proud about winning this creative writing contest as I’ve always been interested in horror novels.”

JKI: It definitely shows! What gave you the idea for your story?

Molly: “I’ve read multiple Stephen King and Agatha Christie books and they inspired me to create my short story. I’ve waited for the day to create my own world of horror and feel so honored to be able to share my vision. I believe that horror brings about a different reality – one filled with intrigue and other possibilities…”

JKI: Certainly! So who will you bring with you to the afternoon tea at the Rosewood Hotel?

Molly: “My mom and dad!”

While Molly’s at tea with her parents, that’s the perfect opportunity for her to take a photo of their shared meal together and submit it for our November “Most Memorable Meal” Photo Contest! This time around, the winner will receive a gift voucher to a free buffet, as well as a studio photography class with one of Beijing’s family-friendly professional photographers! So come on and send us your photos and a short description to win! More contest details are available here.

KEEP READING: Had a Memorable Meal This Year? Share It for a Chance to Win Prizes!

Images: Pexels

Thank you to those who have submitted their Horror Stories for the Jingkids Creative Writing Contest! The winners of our contest will receive a gift certificate worth RMB 998 to the fabulous afternoon tea at Beijing’s 5-star Rosewood Hotel, as well as one-of-a-kind Halloween pastries worth over RMB 300 from our generous sponsor Comptoirs de France. Take a look at the amazing Chocolate Pumpkin (available in large (RMB 218) and medium (RMB 98) sizes), Halloween Chocolate Witch (RMB 118) and Clown (RMB 158), as well as their Halloween cookies (individual price RMB 16, pack of 6 for RMB 88) and more in this video below.

Below is one of the entries for the contest. Beware…! 

It was a cold, frosty day when he woke up, every puff of breath showing in the biting air. The end of October had come, and the startling weather woke him up.

He went downstairs for a quick breakfast and hurried out the door to check on his neighbors. There was a queer feeling in his stomach, but he didn’t know why…

The streets were eerily quiet, as if someone was hiding around the corner and would jump out at any moment. He pulled his coat collar closer and walked quickly on. The freezing air wrapped around him.

“Ring ring ring!” He rang the doorbell.

Nobody answered.

There was a ringing in his ear by the time he finished ringing his whole street’s doorbells.

Everything was silent.

He returned home, cautious but still calm.

There could be many reasons for the quietness, he thought. Other streets could be busy with noise.

That’s when he saw a note on his door that he hadn’t noticed before: “We have all left. You are the last man on earth.”

His mouth went dry. His heart drummed. His head throbbed. The world tilted.

They had all left. They left without telling me…

The last man on earth made it to his kitchen table and collapsed onto a chair.

Finally, he was able to straighten himself, starting to think things over.

Suddenly, he was filled the sense of emptiness around him, a conscience that nobody would ever be there anymore. He tried to deny his crazy thoughts, but he knew deep inside that he was the last man on the earth.

Then, there seemed to be thousands of eyes—evil, glowing eyes of darkness, staring at him. It is even worse than the feeling of sleeping alone in a dark, dark room. A shudder went down his spine. He tried to shake out the feeling, but it continued to haunt him.

“Ring ring ring!”

The doorbell rang.

By Rayna Ma (15 years old)

The winner of this month’s jingkids Creative Writing Contest will receive a gift certificate worth RMB 998 to the fabulous afternoon tea at Beijing’s 5-star Rosewood Hotel, as well as one-of-a-kind Halloween pastries worth over RMB 300 from our generous sponsor Comptoirs de France.

KEEP READING: Jingkids Creative Writing Contest Entry: Steak

Images: Pexels