Read Winning Works from YWA's 2010 Scary Writing Contest
YWA 2010 SCARY WRITING CONTEST
Congratulations to the Scary Writing Contest winners and thank you to everyone who submitted their scary writing. YWA received 175 entries!
First Place winning works were published in The Register-Guard on Halloween.
Among the winners, Patsy White and Dylan Troyer are mother and son who challenged each other to enter the contest. The Romig family also challenged each other to enter the contest.
Read all the first, second and third place works below. Happy Halloween!
Ages 5-8
FIRST PLACE
Thrills and Chills
By Max Finney, age 8, Crest Drive Elementary
Halloween nights have lots of frights,
Like loquacious ghosts, a goblin who boasts
And even some witches who are making toasts.
It will be lots of fun, you might see a ghoul making a stupendous pun!
Halloween night are lots of fun, with candy that's red,
A monster that's blue, and a vampire that says . . . Boo!
Hey! What's that up ahead? It's a skeleton missing its head!
Halloween nights can be scary,
Don't freak out, just be wary.
Walking near the railroad track, what's that climbing up your back?
It's a spider, not a yak!
Happy Halloween!
SECOND PLACE
The Very Bossy Boy
By Ben Ackerman, age 8, Crest Drive Elementary
Once there was a very bossy boy named Bob. Everyone listened to what he said. One Halloween, he went trick-or-treating with his friends. They went from house to house. Every time they got to a house, Bob would shout, "I want candy!" Of course, he got candy.
When they got to an entirely black house (it was quite hard to see), Bob knocked on the door and began to yell, "I want can . . . ," but he stopped.
The door was open, but no one was there. Then Bob said, "Let's go in!"
"Oh my gosh, Bob!" Frank exclaimed. "Are you crazy? I don't really . . .”
But Bob was already walking in! "We must get three packs of Skittles!” he shouted.
"We always do things your way," Frank sighed.
They walked up the stairs. After hours of climbing stairs, they got to the top. A creaking was heard nearby. It was a goblin pulling on a string. Frank and Jeff were expecting Bob to shout, "I want candy!" But he didn't. In fact, he was nowhere to be found!
"Ulp," Jeff mumbled.
The goblin spun around. "If you crazy kids are going to come in my attic, you should give up your can . . . Ow!" he shouted.
Bob had kicked the goblins foot. The goblin looked where Bob was, but no one was there. The goblin spun around again, but no one was there. Then he cried, "the house is HAUNTED!!!" and he dropped the candy bags and ran out of the house.
"He was pretty bossy, right?" Bob asked.
"Yep," Jeff said.
The end
THIRD PLACE
The Story
By Kate Romig, age 8, Brattain Elementary
Once upon a time there was a fancy restaurant called Charles's Place. The boss of the restaurant was named Charles Smith and he had two employees, Tom Johnson and Presela Jameasen. Presela was a girl and Tom was a boy. Tom treated Presela very badly. Tom was sipping a cup of coffee when he realized that he could scare her. It was almost closing time and it was getting darker outside so he planned on telling her a scary story. This is what it was: (and he could tell that she was listening)
There once was a girl named Presela Jameasen, just like you, he said. It was just a normal day and it was almost closing time. Just then the phone rang. She answered it but there was nobody there, then the door knocked, then the knocking got louder and louder. Somebody must be eager to get in before closing time, she thought, but when she opened the door there was nobody there. Very funny, she yelled. Nobody answered, then she closed the door. When it was closing time, she tried to open the door, but it didn't open. Then the lights flickered on and off. She heard knocking on the door then she heard the door open. They saw a ghostly figure floating in the light of the moon.
Wow, that was a great story, she said. Just then they heard the phone ring. They answered it but there was nobody there, but before they could speak someone knocked on the door. They opened it. Nothing was there. Then it was closing time. They tried to open the door, the lights flickered, and they heard knocking on the door, the door opened. ...
Ages 9-10
FIRST PLACE
Best Friends Forever
By Malia Labrousse, age 10, Edgewood Elementary
More than anything in the world, Annie wanted to be friends with Mary.
Annie gripped a small book in her hands, “Friendship Bracelets”. The picture of 6th grade girls at the mall holding hands and wearing matching bracelets on the book made her very hopeful.
“Mary will love this book!” Annie thought. “She’ll definitely become my BFF after we make bracelets together!”
Annie looked around the library and spotted Mary looking for a book. Everyone else was already walking to the line to go back to the classroom.
“Now’s my chance!”
Annie pushed her glasses up a little bit, smoothed out the new lavender purple dress that she bought specially for the occasion (it was the same one that Mary wore yesterday), and ran her finger over her purple bands on her braces to make sure she had no food in them.
“H-h-hi Mary. I thought y-you might like this book…”
“Pfffffff! Whatever! I already know how to make friendship bracelets, stupid!” Mary said, and slapped the book out of her hand.
Annie lowered her head in humiliation and looked up grinning! Her eyes flashed deep purple.
Mary screamed and stumbled backward.
“I’m sorry!” Mary said. “I want to be your BFF!”
“Of course you will.” Annie said.
Whooosh! The book lunged back at Mary and swallowed her whole.
Annie opened the book to page 57 and saw Mary screaming and banging from the inside of the pages.
“Let me go Annie!”
Annie also saw all her other BFFs huddling in the corner murmuring” Not another!”
Then as if nothing happened she slammed the book shut, held it to her chest, and skipped towards the class line.
“Where’s Mary?” the teacher asked.
“I think she went to the bathroom!” Annie said with a grin.
SECOND PLACE
The Haunted House
By Martha Brasted-Maki, age 9, Yujin Gakuen Elementary
I turned toward the haunted house. I was curious but I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. Then I gathered my courage and knocked on the door. There was no turning back now. Once I got in, the door slammed behind me and I was trapped. I'm not sure what made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; was it the clock that red midnight, the calendar that read Friday the 13th, or the portraits with flickering red eyes? I ran from the room, hoping to find a less scary place. I hoped in vain. I found myself in a library full of books about witchcraft and other things that I would rather not think about. It was furnished with marble busts that always seemed to be watching me. Then I heard the town clock toll the real midnight as the storm began. A bolt of lightning very nearly missed the haunted house. The candles in the candelabra went out. I heard the door creak open and a glowing skeleton appeared. He beckoned to me and I knew it would be of no use to refuse. He led me into a room where there was an open window and a single candle was still alight. A crow was watching us through the window. The skeleton gave me a tumbler of something red. I drank it and everything around me seemed to grow several times larger. The crow swooped in through the window and picked me up. We glided back through the window and he sat me down on the wet grass before flapping back to the window. I ran home as fast as I could, growing as I ran. But I survived my night at the haunted house and that's something to tell.
THIRD PLACE
Trapped
By Daphne Faber, age 9, Crest Drive Elementary School
What if you were trapped somewhere? You could be in an old barn, the neighborhood haunted house or anywhere that you couldn't get out of. Here is my bone-chilling story.
It was a foggy Saturday afternoon and my friends and I decided to play hide and seek at the corn maze. I went to hide in an overgrown part of the maze and to my surprise a ghost's icy hand gripped my shoulder. Suddenly, chills were running down my back.
When I opened my eyes I was in a room with peeling wallpaper and rotting wood floors. All was normalish except that all color was faded, even I was. There were no doors, only one window about the size of a deck of cards. I started to panic, wild thoughts roared through my brain like a tsunami. As I whipped my head from side to side, I saw something glitter. I peeled back the wallpaper with a speck of hope. Behind the paper there was a riddle. It said: To right what I have wronged, take this key to find me. For a clue, look to the walls. They will show you what to do.
So what did I do next? I looked at the walls of course. Nothing. But then I saw it, a strange key, and four feet away there was a hole in the floorboards. I took the key and slid it into the hole. Click. I had done it! I'm going home. That's when I was outside I caught a newspaper -- 1963 was the year. This can’t be right. Noooooooooooooooo!
That's when I woke up in a cold sweat. My alarm clock was going off.
"Come on, sweetie," said my mom. "We are going to the corn maze."
"Not again!" I thought.
Ages 11-13
FIRST PLACE
My Life as a Monster
By Dylan Troyer, age 11, Spencer Butte Middle School
We dwell inside the endless night,
Horrors plagued with mad delight.
But on one night our bindings crack,
And we set out for an attack!
Nightmares live and prowl unseen
This chaos we call Halloween.
And yet amidst this frightful storm
Brightly costumed children swarm
Filling up on yummy sweets,
They fail to see that they’re the treats.
I cannot wait to quench my thirst,
On October 31st!
SECOND PLACE
The White Flower
By Josephine Christon, age 11, Kennedy Middle School
She sat down. She stood back up. She sobbed. She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. She was not here. She was not at Mikayla Sara Borson’s funeral. She was not.
“We all loved Mikayla, though we only knew her for a short eleven years,” Croaked the Priest. “And now, if anybody would like to say a few words,”
I wanted my hand to go up, but it wouldn’t, so I tried to push it up with the other one, but that hand was useless too. So I just stayed seated and cried some more.
After I left, I fled to the rose garden, because I always felt happier there, but not today. All I could think about was Mikayla.
I stepped into my house, and my memories took over my sight. All I could see was Mikayla and I happily scampering around the house, laughing. I cried. I yanked my heavy winter coat off and let it drop to my carpet. I curled up on my bed, but then I noticed something. Under my coat, was a white rose. I limped over to it and picked it up. It was beautiful. But then I remembered, Mikayla’s favorite flowers were white roses. I threw it on the floor and leaped to my bed, sobbing.
I woke up and glared at the rose. I picked it up and noticed that on the bottom of each petal was red. I plucked the delicate petals off one by one, and put them on a straight line on my bed. I noticed the red was actually words, so I read them, first in my head, confused, and then out loud, I’m still here, why won’t you play with me? Just because you can’t see me, I can still see you.
THIRD PLACE
13th Street
By Nick Romig, age 11, Thurston Middle School
"Breaking news, there has been yet another unexplained disappearance in the same 5-mile radius. This time, it was 37-year-old Madison Dericks, who has disappeared along with John Crayson, Louise Benidict, Jacob Adams, Samuel Carson, and Henry Anderson. What is most remarkable is that all of these disappearances occurred on 13th street."
Zzwip! The man turned off the the 11 o'clock news and yawned out loud. I'd better get to bed, he thought.
Suddenly, THUMP! He looked around nervously, but it was just his cat, Chester, jumping down from the couch. Why am was he so on end? He tried to convince himself that it wasn't because he lived on 13th street.
The man had known Adams, the first to go. Then went Henry Anderson, He had memorized the names by heart. Then Benidict--wait a second, something about those names…he ran to the phone book and searched for the first name on 13th street. Adams, then Anderson, followed by Benidict, Carson, Crayson, Dericks, then…he blinked.
It couldn't be…but it was: George Edwards, his name.
George just stood there for 5 minutes, trying to process it all in his head. He probably would have stood there for longer, but suddenly, there was a knocking on the door. He was about to answer, but then thought about it. Why would someone be knocking on the door at 11 o'clock? The knocking got louder. George was getting really freaked out now. It turned to pounding. Chester yowled. He started to run.
The lights went out.
Ages 14-18
FIRST PLACE
It is in the Eyes
By Chayla Todd, age 16, Wellsprings Friends School
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
-Franklin D. Roosevelt
It happens in the dark, when my mind becomes a mob of whispers crawling over one another. It is a collected force pushing from the inside out. My eyes open and the velvet caress of my blanket no longer feels safe. These images, the sounds, the words; they do not belong to me. I see myself in black solitude, running. It is waiting when I stop. I hear my thoughts dashed, snuffed out; it booms from the trails of my labyrinth. A breath from the outside comes in from the window by my bed; it finds my skin and the follicles on my arms become alert.
I push myself to a seated position. The mirror on the wall at the end of my bed faces me. I don’t want to look at it. It, is here; ready to assume the possession of my free will. I can hardly feel my way past it. An instinctual part of my chemistry wants to fight it. I struggle to feel the courage inside of me. It wants my eyes to find a reflection that is no longer familiar to me. I will not let it. It wants me to look in the mirror. I want to look in the mirror. It wants me to see it. I want to prove that I am in control. I want to see my eyes. I will see my eyes. I look. A feeling of relief passes over me; these eyes are mine alone. I turn my head toward the cool air coming from my window and the rush of terror runs right back into my senses. The eyes in the mirror did not move.
SECOND PLACE
The Dark Court
By Emma Saisslin, age 14, Sheldon High School
It was Halloween.
The one night of the year when
Creatures of dreams and nightmares
Gathered together in the Night Realm.
They were the Dark Court.
Music floated in the air,
Melodious and strange.
Violins, flutes, pianos,
And bizarre other-worldly instruments with far too many strings,
All played by no one.
Floating lanterns illuminated the Clearing,
Where wild-eyed faeries with jewel-colored skin danced,
Pointy teeth and shimmering wings sparkling in the candlelight.
The stray mortals they had brought to the Gathering
Danced with them,
A mad look in their eyes.
They would dance in the Clearing for the rest of eternity
Unable to stop,
Unless their fae partners said otherwise.
But faeries were malicious folk.
They would not say otherwise.
Lurking in the shadows
Of large trees with fire-red leaves
Were the vampires,
Pale and elegant,
Except for the scarlet stain trailing from their mouths.
They, too, had brought mortals to the Gathering
But for an entirely different reason than the faeries.
Warlocks gathered around a small table,
Cards with pictures of ancient gods in their hands,
Silver coins littering the oak surface of the counter.
The rainbow-colored smoke from their pipes hung by their heads
Getting the air an herbal, almost flowery scent.
Wolves with the eyes of humans
Darted inconspicuously through the crowds,
Chasing the small, reptilian creatures that flickered around them.
Men with long, shaggy hair
And wolf ears sat,
Playing the lyre mournfully
Or sipping dark, lavender-colored liquid
Out of goblets made from gemstones.
The full moon glowed orange in the sky,
Overseeing the festivities.
Watching the merry-making and celebrating
Of its children.
But when dawn arrived, and the new moon vanished
The creatures were gone, and the Night Realm closed,
Not to be opened again until next Halloween,
When the Dark Court
Would gather once more.
THIRD PLACE
The Wind
By Sam Dale, age 16, Pleasant Hill High School
There were tiny grains of ice in the wind. They would scratch your face as they whipped by. This was new to me. Poland was harsh, and it was cold. We had no car -- the school was only two miles away, but in the dead of winter, it seemed like a thousand. And a dead winter it was. The wind roared through these trees every night, and as I tried to sleep, the ghastly whistle of its billowing through the trees, thrashing around the snow, filled the entire house. After living here, you too would see the wind as a truly horrible thing.
Being fairly new here, I received many of the horror stories and terrible tales developed to scare young ones. I did not mind; some of them were entertaining, and I was past believing in such hogwash. My mind wanders easily, especially when trudging through such a terrible wind! I looked up to find the forest that ran to my right -- the only indication of a once-present road -- but I saw no one. Nothing moved, save the swirling snow all around. It was a complete whiteout.
It was then I saw the man.
He seemed to be tall, with very broad shoulders, and a slightly hunched back. I called out, but he continued to walk in a straight line. Who would be walking like this?
Then I saw his objective. At the edge of my vision, there was a woman, unmoving, standing with her dress billowing around her. The man approached, they shared a few words, and he shoved something deep into her chest. She went limp, and crumpled at an odd angle. The man finally turned to look at me. But he shook his head, and left my field of vision. The woman had also vanished. I took a step, and then another, to where I thought was home.
What I just saw, with my eyes; what I heard, with my ears -- it was a murder that had happened fifty-six years before, on the night much as that one.
Adult
FIRST PLACE
The Monster in the Haunted House
By Patsy White, Eugene
The abandoned house by the graveyard
We never creep inside
Winds creak and groan
And swirl and moan,
And uncover what’s trying to hide
But this Halloween I am older
Ready to be a man
Though my breath hums
And my heart drums
I’ll enter the house if I can
Dappled moonlight shadows my footsteps
Wet boards squelch as I tread
Fierce lightning complains
Of cracked, dirty panes
Thunder booming to waken the dead.
Splattering rain puddles behind me
Stale dust motes dance in my nose
Small skittering feet
Tattooing retreat
Greet my own stealthy entering toes.
Quivering handheld charade of safety,
My flashlight wobbles up stairs
Wind howling like death.
Masks shuddering breath
And ruffles the sheets on the chairs
Lightning blazes and unveils a monster
Hunched over the last stair tread
His grotesque face
Hovers in space
With an open-mouthed stare of dread
LubDub LubDub pounds my heartbeat
An eerie laugh stabs my ear
A mirror stares back
At my flashlight’s attack
As I chuckle to cover my fear
The monster is me in the mirror
The laughs I hear are my own
Fear made me blind
To using my mind
I’m the only monster I’ve ever known!
SECOND PLACE
Trick or Treat
By Cami Romig, Springfield
The children paused before the dilapidated old house and waited, gathering their courage. From the porch, a cat — black, of course — lifted its head from where it was curled up in a chair and stared back.
It was Halloween. They’d been to all the houses in the neighborhood, avoiding this one until they could no longer. It was decision time. They wanted more candy. Should they make one last stop?
A single light at the door beckoned them forward.
“Let’s go,” urged a boy dressed like an astronaut. “C’mon, don’t be scared.”
The gate opened with a creak, and the costumed children filtered silently and single-file into the yard: A princess in a sparkly jeweled tiara; a teen pop star, hair arranged in a distinctive style; and the astronaut, lumbering in huge silver boots.
When they knocked to the door, it pushed open, but no one was there. Surprised, they looked at each other. Then, they heard a voice. “Come in,” it whispered.
“You know we’re not supposed to go inside,” the princess reminded.
“I’m going home,” said the pop star, looking disturbed.
“Aww, it’ll only be for a minute,” the astronaut said. “Whoever’s in there is probably too old to come to the door.”
He pushed the door open a little farther, put a boot inside, then disappeared, leaving the other two outside. Floorboards groaned. Seconds passed. The cat yowled. Wait, was that a scream?
Before they could react, the princess and the pop star saw the door fling open. The astronaut, eyes wide and gasping for breath, rushed past in terror, a fistful of Smarties in his hand. “Follow me,” he yelled.
They had another decision to make, and they made it. Easily. They ran.
THIRD PLACE
The Travelers
By Rob Romig, Springfield
There was a deafening crack and a blinding flash of light. Out of the roar and smoke strode two figures.
“Did we reach our destination, Zornuk?” asked one to the other. Zornuk held a small metal box with many flashing lights. His unusually large eyes scanned the readout.
“Langley, Virginia. June 23, 1951.” Zornuk said.
“We’ve made it, Mr. Stephens.” Mr. Stephens was elated. Years of planning and sacrifice and, yes, the lives of countless people had culminated in this triumphant moment. Before he could react, he felt his hands and feet bound by something he could not see nor overcome.
“What’s going on?” he shouted. Zornuk exhaled through two small slits on his angular face and calmly looked up from his metal box. “The mission is over, Mr. Stephens. You will stay here and I will return to the present day.”
“But we haven’t destroyed the device,” said the man, incredulous.
“That was not the mission,” Zornuk said.
“What are you talking about? Release me!”
“Humanity’s mission was different from ours. You were trying to stop your extinction in the year 2067. Our mission was to ensure it.”
“I … I don’t understand,” stammered Mr. Stephens.
“Earth will be ours once the humans are gone,” Zornuk explained. “We did not come here to save your species. That was a lie. There is no “device” that your people will use to annihilate the world. Instead, one man will change the world, one solitary human who will steer humanity from the precipice and toward peace. Mr. Stephens, that man is you. Was you.”
The shock of the words flowed over Mr. Stephens. He paused, then asked, “Why did you send me back in time? Why didn’t you just kill me?”
“Oh, Mr. Stephens,” Zornuk said, stepping away. “You know we are a peaceful race.” With that, there was a thunderous sound and a blinding flash of light.
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