Spooky Stories: Tales from the pumpkin patch

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These are some of the stories written by students as part of our Spooky Stories competition. The challenge was to write the story within a limit of fifty words.

Year7

Silent eyes watching.

A girl sighs as she washes her hands in the bathroom sink. She looks in the mirror, nothing but herself staring back. Whirling, a scream escapes her lips. The new girl standing there is smiling. Silence. Red spilling onto the floor. A message written in blood-

“You’re next!”

By Trinity  Barr-Thompson (Winning entry)
.                                                                                                                                                              .

The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 3:07 am before she pushed her long rotting finger nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I woke up screaming, and saw my alarm clock flashing 3:07 and my door creaking open…….

by Kirralee Azzopardi
.                                                                                                                                                              .

It was the night of Halloween and young James wanted to go trick-or-treating with his friends. His Mum said “no” but James snuck out anyway. He was wandering through the streets looking for his friends and soon he found himself lost in a dark alley. Screaming and screaming he is still there today!

By Sarah Vague

Year 8

He stumbled towards me and I froze in terror, unable to peel my eyes away. His eyes, sunken pools. I recoiled as the stench of his rotting body reached me. Never had I imagined the apocalypse would start here. My brother, the first victim. And I, soon to be second!

by Paris Lindner (Winning entry)
.                                                                                                                                                              .

Lonely Boy

The blood drips and the cold tiles gleam. But no one is to be seen to help the lonely boy on 41 Brooklyn Street. The vivid scratching at the old, oak door means it’s time for him to leave before he is nothing more than a pile of organs on the floor. As he turns to run, the rusted knob starts to thrust from side to side. Finally, the door swings wide – Lonely boy’s screams filling the night!

By Jade Aitken

Year 9

As three girls sit in front of a Ouija board. They ask “Are there any spirits here?” They suddenly feel a dark presence over their hands as it moves towards “yes.” They continue to ask, “What is your name?” The spirit leads them to a G followed by UESS. Charlotte jokingly says, “Satan?” The board quickly jolts yes. Suddenly Lucy and Amber turn to find Charlotte on the ground with her eyes rolled back. They scream and run over to help, but it is too late! The spirit still lingered.
.                                                                                                                                                              .

No one had entered the house for years. No one ever came out alive. The door seemed to be a magnet, pulling him closer. As the door slammed behind him, all that was heard was a scream and a loud swallowing sound made by the house!

Sarah Grimson

Year 10

Something cold brushes my hand. I snatch it to my chest. Breathing laboured, my eyes flick frantically back and forth, trying to make out the gnarled, twisted silhouettes reaching towards me in the darkness. My breath catches. Long, thin shapes wrap firmly around my neck from behind. “Shh, don’t move!”

By Caitlyn Mulcahy
.                                                                                                                                                              .

Withering leaves with a silver coating, broken windows, and shattered doors;

Crimson stains on the lounge room carpet, dusty clothing, complexes with vacant floors.

A mundane world of repletion. Repetition of nothing at all.

Oh, what a sad sight is this planet; the planet earth and its broken soul.

By Madeline Mac Namara

Year 11

She eyed her reflection with terrorised eyes, her simple unassuming reflection in the mirror.

Yet its eyes turned dark.

“Go away!”

Her voice – quivering, quiet, broken at the end.

And her reflection smiled a wide, sadistic grin.

By Isabella Zammit (winning entry)

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