Amazing Young Writers Stories 401 to 500
Amazing Young Writers Stories 401 to 500
On this page, you will find the fourth 100 stories, poems and other pieces of creative writing submitted to the amazing young writers challenge.
If you'd like to submit to the challenge and see your work published on this website, please visit the Amazing Young Writers page.
Story 401
Death or Not?
by Smiles Angel Azah Som
In the heart of the woods lies an orphanage ruled by hefty vines and engulfed by crawling ivy. In the frayed moonlight it glistens, and the impenetrable brambles hack away at the battered cobblestone, hungry for more.
The trees sway in the groaning wind, and the night becomes a raven girl, Vampire Astrid. She soars through the sky as if she owns the night. The ants look up to behold this, momentarily.
Will she kill?
Everything around her says so. Evil penetrates her skin. Murder engulfs her mind.
Will she kill?
Maybe or maybe not. You’ll see.
*
Smiles is 12 and lives in the UK.
Story 402
Cocker Spaniel
by Charlotte Warington-Smyth
Running
Through
The
Fields
With
The
Sun
On his back.
Storming
Through
The
Bushes
With
Hair
Like a haystack.
Proudly he pounces on an unsuspecting pheasant
And with a stride in his step brings home the present
Foliage tangled within his hair
He makes his way over to the nicest armchair
Out of the cupboard I retrieve a brush
And try to calm him with a soft 'hush'
Piece by piece I take out the brambles
But soon he is scared and out he scrambles
Crawling into bed
He rests his tiny head
My little cocker spaniel.
*
Charlotte is 13 and lives in the UK.
Story 403
Cola Wars
by Finlay
World War One, then World War Two
'Pepsi Cola', then 'Pepsi Blue'
'Coca Cola', then 'Coke New'
History comes back to you
Every year a common cold
New variant becomes the old
Pity for your failing health
History repeats itself
*
Finlay is 20 and lives in the UK.
Story 404
The World Without Her
by Raiya
I live in a world that’s different but the same – the same shops, the same sky, yet nothing feels the same without her.
Grief flooded me like a tsunami. I still here her laugh echo through rooms I’m in.
At school, I wear a mask and pretend, but in my head, I know she should be here.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means learning how to live with a hole in your heart. Because my love for her hasn’t faded – she still fills my world.
Even in this new one, she always will.
*
Raiya is 15 and lives in England.
Story 405
The Last Tick of War
by Syeda Marium Ahmed
Under a bruised, war-stained sky, Mara unearthed a clock buried in scorched earth, its hands trembling backward. Each defiant tick rewound the battlefield: smoke curling into clouds, bullets sliding back into guns, screams folding into silence. Time obeyed her trembling touch. The dead stirred, rising from crimson mud with glassy eyes, whispering her name. The village’s ruins stitched themselves whole, its streets breathing again. Yet with every reversal, Mara’s pulse weakened, her form dissolving into ash and memory.
When dawn broke, peace returned – but she was gone. The clock remained, half-buried, gleaming, waiting for another desperate soul.
*
Syeda is 16 and lives in England.
Story 406
Blue is the Colour of Death
by Agnes Joanna
The sky is blue today, like the colour of my sister's eyes before she died, the colour of the ocean. The air crackles with a strange energy, sparks of unseen force dancing across my skin. I inhale, the sharp air biting my lungs.
The lake seems to call out to me, its dark surface beckoning me with a pull I can't ignore. Something is waiting beneath the water, whispering my name, urging me to dive in.
As soon as I step closer, I hear it. A voice, not my own, calling from the depths.
*
Agnes is 14 and lives in the United Arab Emirates.
Story 407
The Ninja Cats
by Daisy-Belle Phillips
Simba, Bella and Tabbs are no ordinary cats. In the morning, they are normal, but at night they’re the NINJA CATS. They fight crime and other bad cats. They’ve put nine cats in jail.
The leader of the bad cats, Minnie-Mick, is the baddest of them all. One night, the cats saw Minnie-Mick stealing from the bank – UH-OH!
Minnie-Mick spotted the NINJA CATS and ran. He hid, but the NINJA CATS caught him and put him in jail. They put the money back and everyone cheered.
The NINJA CATS disappeared into the moonlight. No one has heard or seen them since.
*
Daisy-Belle is 12 and lives in Wales.
Story 408
Shoulders of Giants
by Aditi Golyan
Isaac Newton proclaimed, "If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." Every achievement stands on the shoulders of others, whether a child learning to speak, a chick flying under the guidance of a mother, or an organisation succeeding over an individual.
Building my businesses was only possible because of mentors' guidance, family words of encouragement, collective smartness, and the experiences of veteran brains. Even the most self-made appear to be motivated by others. Personal growth thrives on the support of groups – guidance, criticism, encouragement, and continuous motivation.
True achievement is not isolation; strength is gained through those who inspire, guide, and enable us.
*
Aditi is 15 and lives in India.
Story 409
Remember The ANZACs
by Charlotte
The shocks of the shells and bullets flying,
Hundreds and thousands of men were dying,
PTSD following them their whole life,
Seeing friends dying, the gruesome sight,
The ANZAC's just wished that they were back home,
Free of the enemies and weapons that roam,
Most were just buried with a small wooden cross,
While families suffered the grief and the loss,
We will forever remember them and say 'Lest We Forget',
To all those poor souls, we're forever in debt,
With a minute of silence, an ode and a special parade,
We will remember them all on ANZAC day...
*
Charlotte is 13 and lives in Australia.
Story 410
Warmth, Within Myself
by Tells
Warmth, it grew itself on me, the more I learned to be. It seeped itself within my heart, as if it was the solace of its dreams.
Solitude was known to be lonesome and cold, yet it unleashed a fire within me. A forgotten spark held in the embrace of the darkness, one that consumes and devours all forms of happiness, but finding what was once lost was like finding the ugliness I didn’t want eyes to see.
This time, I wasn’t the weak and dull, but the confident women I chose to be.
*
Tells is 18 and lives in the Federated States of Micronesia.
Story 411
No Man's Land
by Luke
“Thank God,” were the words the agent used.
Agent Smith, an intellectual, was currently doing an investigation on an 'innocent' woman’s property.
This property made headlines: ‘Dead Man Found in Property’
That wasn’t the only time, either: ‘Dead Husband Discovered by a Sobbing Wife'
The wife made it up. She made a mannequin look like her dead husband.
Why did she do this? That’s what the agent needed to find out. And yet… he never managed to.
BBC news headlines two months after the investigation stated: ‘Agent, Found Executed on Investigated Property’
Will anyone ever come out alive?
*
Luke is 15 and lives in the UK.
Story 412
My Father, A Killer!
by Autumn Evans
Normal day. I had to go feed my dogs though, that was different. But I guess things had to change sometimes. I hadn’t seen my dog Bear today when he normally sleeps right beside me.
Panic surged through my veins. Where was he?
But then I saw it. A knife. Was that… blood? A daunting trail of red spots lead out to the balcony.
There was a note. It read, “Well, I didn’t realise it would be you. I mean, I’ve got your mother and your dog… Death would have hopefully taken him by now. You’re next…”
*
Autumn is 12 and lives in the UK.
Story 413
The Balancing Act
by Valentina Hyde Elosua
Boots by the door, books on my bed,
Homework waiting, goals in my head.
Early alarms, muddy knees,
Dreams chased on turf and in degrees.
Between exams and extra time,
I juggle pressure, sweat, and rhyme.
Teachers talk, coaches shout,
Both worlds I can’t live without.
One builds my mind, one fires my soul,
Together they make me feel whole.
It’s not easy, but it’s mine to keep,
Late-night study, early-morning leap.
Football and school, my endless test,
Balancing both, giving my best.
*
Valentina is 13 and lives in Scotland.
Story 414
A Journey on a Rowboat
by Alice Mułyk
Confined within my rowboat, stagnant upon the glass lake, I become dumb and intoxicated with the feeling of awe. Amidst the colossal mountains, I grasp my insignificance in the face of these divine stone structures surrounding me.
For a moment, I am utterly convinced that these everlasting idols pierce my soul with their gaze and transcend my most private thoughts. They see right through me.
Instantly, as if to redirect my attention, the lightless sky spits out a torrent of crystalline snow and the dawning of my own mortality reverberates through my fragile, human body.
The blizzard stirs on.
*
Alice is 15 and lives in England.
Story 415
I Didn’t Survive the Ghost
by Kaci Millard-Lovell
The harsh blowing wind makes the naked trees slow dance, the squeaky gates following along. Crows sing, as if they are welcoming me in. Dim, yellow lights flicker, drawing me closer to the rotten, red front door. My sweaty palms tremble with fear as I open it.
Floorboards creak as I take each step. Tears rush down my face as I tiptoe more into the haunted house.
SLAM!
A huge draft enters the house, making the rotten, warped, wooden door slam shut. Out of the broken glass window, I can see a pack of grey cloud-like wolves howling at the full moon.
“Come up stairs, we all want to meet you.”
*
Kaci is 17 and lives in the UK.
Story 416
The Gilded Cage
by James Kelland
In Arena-9, I felt the soft, manufactured contentment produced by the reactor's golden light. Shift Leader Faun’s smile reflected the endless, soothing joy of service we’re told is fulfilment.
Then, the Apex’s resonance struck.
The golden light turned cheap, the air cold. A bitter, metallic taste, like a used battery, filled my mouth. This was the Soul Tax: a tariff of raw, brutal negativity. Their corrosive will and stressed-out envy slammed into my mind, shattering enforced happiness.
We’re their emotion holders, kept perfectly joyful, so when the Apex unleashes their pain, we’ve something beautiful to lose. We’re quiet-happy bins, waiting to be emptied.
*
James is 13 and lives in England.
Story 417
Toyoko Velocity
by Alex Bagnall
Engines roared beneath Tokyo's neon skyline. Kenji gripped the wheel, heart pounding with the rhythm of the city.
The rain-slick streets reflected streaks of red and gold as he pulled the handbrake – his car slid sideways, inches from the guardrail.
Behind him, headlights hunted like wolves. One wrong move meant metal and fire. But drifting was his language, his rebellion.
Around the final corner, he let go of fear, trusting the machine, the moment, the madness. Tyres screamed. The city blurred.
For a breathless instant, he wasn't chasing victory – he was free, dancing with the storm on Tokyo's electric edge.
*
Alex is 16 and lives in Ireland.
Story 418
Nature's Quartet
by Krishika Murkuri
Snow falls gently to the ground,
Greenery cannot be found,
Gifts are given to children,
Christmas is looked forward to,
Elves have so much to do.
Flowers appear from the ground,
Sunshine and warmth are finally found,
Days are now longer,
New lives bloom,
Then comes the rain very soon.
The sun comes out,
Children run about,
No more school,
Along with many treats,
Ice cream keeps us cool.
Leaves fall on the ground,
Many colours are found,
Red, orange, yellow, brown,
Harvest is here,
So much to see and hear.
*
Krishika is 11 and lives in the UK.
Story 419
Raindrops
by Johnny Li
Fragile little things, beautiful blue jewels that splatter on the floor.
They break into a million beads, before losing all sense of appeal
And beauty as everything blurs into a pool of dull, boring water.
Tears, fragile little things, sorrowful, pathetic expressions
Of emotions that splatter on the floor. They break
Into a million words, before losing all sense of
Self and meaning as everything blurs into
A pool of convoluted feelings. Hiding
With an umbrella, it shields him dry
From my Raindrops, It shields
Him dry from my Heart.
The rain drops, and
We drop.
*
Johnny is 15 and lives in the UK.
Story 420
The Obsidian Omnipresence
by Alizeh Aadil Hashmi
Everywhere I turned, the trees were just blurs of vermillion, saffron and murky maroon. The sound of constant crunching and crinkling of the ancient leaves clashed with my racing breath and desperate footsteps. Echoes of his malicious laughter rang painfully in my ears. He’s... gaining... on... me. I... can... feel... him... coming...
I never thought I would be a fugitive, nor imagined the very notion of being hunted down so easily like prey. Poignant memories flashed into my mind, mixed with the consuming terror that weakened my every step. At the edge of consciousness, a weak scream escaped my mouth.
"Why?”
*
Alizeh is 13 and lives in the UK.
Story 421
A Winter Made of Wonders
by Deekshna Murkuri
The leaves on the trees disappear
All the snow gradually appears
The best time finally reaches
Many people notice the bare branches
Less children go outside to play
The white snow has to stay
You do indoor activities
Here comes the school nativity
Children get given pretty presents
All of them smile under the moon crescent
Santa in his red, white and black suit
Following his long world route
Just look at these snowy, wonderful days
In all its snowy ways
Under the moon and the stars
Looking over thousands of snowy-topped cars
*
Deekshna is 7 and lives in the UK.
Story 422
The Revenge
by Elizabeth Elvis
Once there was a young pharaoh, joyful and kind, who secretly loved a girl pharaoh. His friends discovered his feelings and, out of envy, encouraged her to fall for another man, Malden; handsome, charming and adored.
Heartbroken, the pharaoh’s grief twisted into rage. Betrayal hardened him, turning kindness into cruelty. At a grand feast, he saw Malden again. With trembling hands, he poured a hidden substance into Malden’s drink.
Malden collapsed, lifeless, as the hall gasped. Though revenge was his, the pharaoh’s heart remained broken, and he ruled with ruthless power, forever haunted by love lost.
*
Elizabeth is 13 and lives in the UK.
Story 423
The Little Cloud Painter
by Aviyana Bhudia
Every morning, Ella liked to watch the clouds drift past her window. One day, she noticed a tiny figure sitting on the edge of a cloud, swinging its legs like a child on a playground.
“Hello!” Ella called.
The little cloud painter waved a tiny paintbrush that shimmered in the sunlight. With a flick, he painted a rainbow across the sky, then sketched a fluffy unicorn galloping beside it. Ella gasped with delight.
As the clouds floated away, the painter smiled and brushed a message into the sky: “Thank you for watching.”
*
Aviyana is 8 and lives in the UK.
Story 424
Numbers for Hope
by Ruby Bruce
One morning, a young girl entered a math competition. Over the next few weeks, she made it all the way to the finals.
Today was the day of the finals. Everyone had gathered in the square to see who would be the winner. The girl answered all the questions correctly. The other finalist got five questions wrong and the judges announced the girl as the winner.
The girl was stoked, took the $1,000 prize, and headed to the hospital where the lady at the reception desk was waiting. The girl gave the $1,000 as payment for her mother's spinal surgery.
*
Ruby is 14 and lives in Australia.
Story 425
Leave Me Alone
by Beatrice Isaac
Under appreciated,
Under approved.
Underrated,
For all that they do.
Who needs you,
When I can have a machine?
Who needs a parent,
When all I want is to stream?
Who needs your love,
Support and care?
When all I want,
Is to be unaware.
To spend my days scrolling,
And my nights on my phone.
Who needs guidance?
Leave me alone.
*
Beatrice is 12 and lives in England.
Story 426
The Fallen Angels
by Lexie Keen
We remember,
Those who sacrificed,
Who breathed until their final breath,
Whose last gulp of air was taken in honour.
They are heroes.
We give thanks,
For those stained in blood,
For those who saved our country,
For those who protected the unborn.
They are heroes.
Let our forever-fallen soldiers rest.
Let them watch peacefully above us.
Let us honour them.
Let them feel the peace now, not later.
They are heroes.
*
Lexie is 10 and lives in England.
Story 427
Behind the Mask
by Mst Tasnia Talukder
I never knew I would hate myself at only twelve. At first, my pimple looked harmless. But slowly, more pimples started to appear on my face.
People started to gossip about how bad it looked. I began to avoid social gatherings and started to wear a mask to hide them.
I consulted doctors and held onto hope, but nothing worked. I cried. I tried again and again, yet everything became worse.
Now, I realise my pimples might go away one day. But will I be able to get my old days back?
"Never!" the cruel answer whispers every time.
*
Tasnia is 16 and lives in Bangladesh.
Story 428
The Little Leaf That Changed a City
by Parth Singla
In a dusty corner of my city, a single green leaf whispered, “Clean me.”
I heard it. I spoke about pollution in reels, coded games that taught recycling, and built a LEGO windmill to power hope. Slowly, kids joined. We held kindness campaigns, planted trees, and shared stories.
One leaf became a library of change. I’m ten, but my voice, powered by imagination, made ripples. Because even small leaves can start forest fires of action.
Let’s listen to nature. It’s speaking. Are we?
*
Parth is 10 and lives in India.
Story 429
A Glimpse of Her Future
by Anya L-H
She watched black-and-white films, captivated by women who moved like poetry across the screen, alive in a way she longed to be. This was not just a dream but a glimpse of her future. Though the world was unkind and tasks felt heavy, she planned each day with quiet determination, studying the great actresses she admired and learning how to carry herself.
Then, as if by magic, an audition appeared, reflecting years of effort. Hands shaking, she stepped forward and excelled, leaving with confidence, a triumphant smile, and the certainty that her journey had truly begun.
*
Anya is 15 and lives in the UK.
Story 430
Infancy
by Rosie Stevens
Silky grass wound around my bare feet as I tottered towards a corner of my garden.
As I walked I felt the sun caressing my face, it's warm glow illuminating me. Bubbles drifted over my head, glistening with multicoloured tones in the summer sky.
"Mama bubbles!"
I laughed as my mother blew bubbles with one hand and her camera recorded in the other, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. *Click* sounded the camera.
"It feels like yesterday you were that little, where did the time go?" said Mum.
She's right. When did my infancy end?
*
Rosie is 14 and lives in England.
Story 431
The Tomorrow Puddle
by Zain Ahmed
He stepped over a puddle and realised that the reflection wasn’t his. It was still him but older by one day. That version of him was smiling slightly, holding something he couldn’t see clearly.
When he crouched down, his reflection lifted a finger to his lips. The water shimmered, showing flashes of tomorrow’s sky. Tomorrow’s clothes. Tomorrow’s tiny mistakes.
He reached to the surface and the reflection leaned back, refusing the touch. Then the water shook wildly, scattering the image into ordinary water.
When he looked up, he suddenly felt late for something he hadn’t done.
*
Zain is 12 and lives in England.
Story 432
Good Grief
by Khloe Hickey
Prologue:
Good grief isn't a thing. I've been grieving all my life, whether that's what I had or what I didn't have; I've grown comfortable with the idea of grief. Living it. Feeling it. I thought eventually it would end, but the world doesn't care for my problems. Unfortunately, life doesn't stop and wait for you, you have to keep going.
Although it's been years I still look for you every chance I get, but I see you every day despite you being gone, through everything you loved, our kids, your job, your love for boats and that stupid blanket.
*
Khloe is 15 and lives in Northern Ireland.
Story 433
You’re Not Supposed To Be Here
by Maira Mufid Sahigara
The girl stood on the shed roof, surveying her land. She spotted Rouki, her tiger.
The tigress was confused. How? Why? He’d died. He still looked so… handsome. She shook her head. No, he’s not handsome.
"YM!" Yuki-Meikage’s sister called.
Yuki-Meikage flinched. Koharu, her older sister. YM jumped over her fence and ran to Rouki.
"Yuks!" Rouki called out to her, his arms open. Yuki burst into tears. She hugged him.
"I love you, Rouki, I really do!" she sobbed.
"Same!" Rouki said back to her.
Then he kissed her. It felt like bliss.
*
Maira is 10 and lives in the UK.
Story 434
Tick Tock Goes the Clock
by ViMay
Smash. I look out of my room, and a vase has fallen over. Tick, tock. The quiet yet eerie sound of the clock consumes me as I creep down the hallway. Footsteps pound on the wooden floor behind me, and I whip around, heart thundering in my ears. I glimpse the door to Mother’s bedroom slamming shut, with a sort of irreversible finality. I grab a shard of shattered porcelain, and creep into the room.
I don’t remember much after that. Hands around my waist. Being shoved in the closet. The sound of heavy footsteps. Tears streaming down my face as Mother bleeds out in my arms.
And the one thing I will never forget. The sound of the clock. Tick, tock.
*
ViMay is 13 and lives in the US.
Story 435
Where the Light Falls
by Caroline
There I was… the goal I had wanted to achieve in front of me, though somehow I still felt incomplete.
As I stared, hypnotised by the elegant sheen of the fabric, my eyes darted from side to side, following the flow of light upon the strategically positioned sequins. I reached out to feel the dress. I felt so small compared to the mannequin. It was sitting elegantly and towered over me. My fingertips glided down the flowy silk, a luxurious, smooth, cool sensation.
The dress was worth millions and there I was, in awe of its presence. This was my opportunity to make my life mean something. I contemplated taking it, though it weighed on my conscience, a strong sinking feeling consuming me. Guilt welled in my throat.
That just wasn’t me. I couldn’t…
*
Caroline is 13 and lives in the UK.
Story 436
The King’s Diary
by Ryleigh Portalski
Light flared – too bright, too sharp – and the floor trembled beneath her feet. Theia's fingers tightened around her – not painfully, but with a force that felt ancient, binding, and inevitable.
Avery tried to pull back on instinct, but the goddess held fast. The air thickened, humming with a low resonant vibration that seemed to echo inside Avery's bones. The cathedral’s white pillars stretched taller, warping like heat-bent glass. The windows pulsed with golden light, each beat syncing with Avery’s heartbeat.
She hated that.
*
Ryleigh is 15 and lives in the United States of America.
Story 437
A Way Home for Isabella
by Sarah Wardiansyah
The night was silent. Isabella opened her small diary, touching the pages as if speaking softly to them. One sentence pricked her heart, and tears almost fell:
Isabella… if father is gone, you will always be the daughter he loves deeply.
Suddenly, her sister Nirbita entered without knocking.
"Clean the house. Crying isn’t your job," she snapped.
Isabella bowed her head, clutching the diary tightly to keep it safe. Though hurt, a spark of hope remained in her heart: she was still her father’s beloved daughter, and tomorrow she could be stronger.
*
Sarah is 18 and lives in Indonesia.
Story 438
Legendary
by Uvinia Blight
She felt tempted. But this job was more than just the salary, and Sue knew that. It didn’t matter that the offers tripled by the second; fighting for the greater good was her purpose, and the dollars were an unnecessary bonus.
“Well?” Andre drummed his fingers on the table; his impatience was palpable, and it was only a matter of time before he grew sick of the pleasantries.
“Can we discuss a pension plan?” She drew out the last word, attempting to seem confident.
“Susie,” he chuckled, “let’s see if you live long enough to need one of those.”
*
Uvinia is 14 and lives in the UK.
Story 439
The Dirty Bread
by Sedrina Dhungyel
Last year when I was in class PP in 2025, I saw two of my friends. They were both different genders; a boy and a girl.
The boy dropped some bread and then the boy picked it up again and gave it to Miska, my friend. She was a girl. Then I stopped the girl from eating but the boy ate half. I don't know what happened to the boy when he went home.
I felt kind of nice that I could help Miska but I was so confused about what happened to the boy once he left. I shared this with my dad and my mum, about how I helped Miska from eating dirty food. I felt happy that I could help stop my friend from eating dirty bread.
*
Sedrina is 6 and lives in Bhutan.
Story 440
The Gaps of Time
by Sena Selek
Time creates gaps,
Along with ruins that can never be replaced.
Does time really heal?
Is it time that heals,
Or is it a steadfast love, defeated by time?
I have been defeated;
By time, by love,
I have been defeated by everything that exists.
Everything I thought I won, I have lost.
Trust,
For the first time, I trusted.
Time took it away from me.
And once again, I am left all alone.
Tell me, does time really heal,
Me, from myself?
.
*
Sena is 25 and lives in Turkey.
Story 441
Muse of Shadow
by Ruqayya Amatullah
When the lights turned off, nobody noticed I was gone: nobody missed me; nobody thought about me. I fled to a place humans would go insane, a place where a million fragments of haunting songs echo and bounce off the walls, a place where I fuse and meld with others like me, with no agency of my own.
Here, my very existence shifts in and out of focus. I come here every time my human is in darkness – the time when they most need company – and I leave them alone. I cannot help it. I am just a shadow.
*
Ruqayya is 15 and lives in the UK.
Story 442
The Stranger's Gift
by Caden Harris
I woke up to an empty house. No family. No friends. Just silence. Outside, there were weird purple lights swirling around like a hurricane and, as I ran down the street, a shape emerged – a man, tall and shrouded in darkness. He presented me with a velvet box.
“When the time is right,” he said.
I opened it, sceptical and unsure. It flashed red, and then hummed with unnatural energy.
The ground shook, and I felt a terrifying power surge through me. A curse had been unleashed.
The only question left was, what would happen next?
*
Caden is 13 and lives in the UK.
Story 443
My Own
by Janie
My own head is a rollercoaster,
I'm not okay.
I tell everyone I am – I tell everyone there are no whispers or voices or screams,
but there are.
"Just me myself and I," I say.
Houses with bricks will all collapse one day, fireworks will still explode, life will go on as normal.
I just wish it didnt have to,
I wish everything would stop just for a moment.
Even though this is true,
I just wish I could swap with you.
Maybe then life would be easy,
but my head is a a sack of bricks,
from broken houses.
A graveyard, a burial site of imagination.
*
Janie is 13 and lives in England.
Story 444
Cosmic Eternity
by Fraeshu Joel
Luminous nebulae glisten in the void,
Celestial colours quietly deployed.
Galaxies spiral in silent ballets,
Turning through darkness, boundless and grey.
Supernovae scatter into spectacular light,
Silver stars shimmering deep into the night.
Comets wander with crystalline tails,
Through cosmic dust and luminous trails.
Planets in orbit trace gravity’s art,
Silvery twinkles of stars making silhouettes in the dark,
Constellations tearing the canvas apart.
And in this infinite, echoing sea,
The universe whispers secrets for eternity!
*
Fraeshu is 12 and lives in Luxembourg.
Story 445
Listen to the Wind
by Margaret Choudoir
They always said not to listen to the wind because it would whisper you lies and then leave you in a pit of despair but I didn't listen to them.
I listened to the wind and it led me to the mountains and told me to climb only to push me down at the top. I listened to the wind and it held me under water and told me to breathe.
I tell you this not to be like me but to learn from the mistakes I made by listening to the horrid wind and not myself.
*
Fraeshu is 12 and lives in the USA.
Story 446
Looking for the Hair
by Alison Fung
Classmates used to ask if my last name was Wonderland. I didn’t get it; I’m Asian, and my name is Alison, not Alice.
By the time I caught the pun, I’d already slipped down the rabbit hole. I traded tea parties for locked-room mysteries, hunting that satisfying click, a stray hair, a tilted portrait, where chaos suddenly made sense.
Now, whenever I meet a polished headline or too-perfect story, the old instinct returns. I no longer assume I’m lost. I just assume there’s a clue I haven’t noticed yet.
*
Alison is 16 and lives in the United States.
Story 447
Gone
by Olivia Anh
A man holds a long kettle, his fingers crippled and roughly calloused. The water drips onto his bare feet as he heaves the kettle along the path. He knows his wife and children are waiting for him, sitting down by the grass.
His temples are sweating, and his breath is ragged under the scorching sun. His stomach grumbles in hunger, but he knows he shan’t eat, for his children are starving. He knows those hollowed cheeks of theirs too well, and the empty gaze of his wife.
He reaches his barren house, and there his family.
Four headstones on the lawn.
*
Olivia is 15 and lives in Spain.
Story 448
No Peace, No Victory
by Natasha Naveed
The angel glided through golden clouds, choosing his good deed for the day.
The demon fluttered nearby, plotting a sinister one.
They collided midair.
“Dale! You again?” the demon sneered.
“Castor. Still causing chaos?”
They locked eyes, wings bristling. What began as bickering stretched into a century of quarrels, skirmishes, and wars between angels and demons. Neither side gained ground. At last, weary and unchanged, they hovered in silence.
“Maybe we cancel each other out,” Castor muttered.
Dale smirked. “Balance, huh?”
They parted without another word. No peace, no victory, just balance.
And so, the world endured.
*
Natasha is 15 and lives in Saudi Arabia.
Story 449
The New Island
by Ben Coons and George Erickson
Once there was a boy named Isaiah Albert who loved the great outdoors. One day, he was walking by a river on Prince of Wales Island. Suddenly, he collapsed into the raging river. Everything went dark!
Later, he found himself in a place he did not know. He looked at his GPS and all he could see was that he was standing in the middle of the vast ocean! It was breath-taking!
The next day, he got extracted from the most beautiful place he had ever been to. No doubt about it.
*
Ben and George are 11 and live in the USA.
Story 450
We Sit Down and Drink a Cup of Tea
by Rory Monson
We sit down and drink a cup of tea,
Because fighting is no more,
We will live in peace and tranquility.
No more is guilty,
Violence is no more,
We sit down and drink a cup of tea.
People say it is safe with certainty,
The police have done their duty,
We sit down and drink a cup of tea.
We can say with certainty,
Crime is no more,
We sit down and drink a cup of tea,
We will live in peace and tranquility.
*
Rory is 11 and lives in the USA.
Story 451
The Stalker
by Philip
Tom trotted through the frozen slush, his Geiger counter clicking furiously. The ancient playground was blanketed in snow, and the once-colourful seesaw and slides had been worn down by the horrors of radiation.
Behind the seesaw, Tom noticed something small in his peripheral vision: a tiny plastic toy train. Its bright colours were tantalising and for a moment Tom froze. He saw a very meagre fragment of his childhood.
He got close to it. Peered down. Nearly touched it. A deep breath and then he crushed it under his boots.
*
Philip is 14 and lives in the UK.
Story 452
Haunted
by Florence
The trees seem to be growing thicker and thicker, dragging you into an endless void.
Noises spring up all around the forest and something that sounds somewhat like a sick crow can be heard coming from under your feet.
Abruptly the sounds stop, replaced by a deathly silence.
This doesn't feel fun any more.
*
Florence is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 453
Alone
by Grace
Crumbling, abandoned. No word could describe how bad the city looked.
I'm Bea, and this is my story.
It was July 12th, 1925, and everything was normal. I lived with my mum, dad and big brother, Henry, in the city called Alone.
It was normal until this happened: An empty plane (apart from the pilot) belonging to Alone had a gas leak and caught fire. The pilot managed to yell, “Abort!” and parachute off into the unknown. No one knows what happened to him.
The plane landed in another city named Lonely, but the mayor of Lonely thought that Alone was trying to bomb them. So he declared war…
*
Grace is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 454
Who’s There?
by Lucas
As I walked in the creepy, eerie, unilluminated forest, leaves crunched underneath my feet. I walked tardily, always feeling like I was being watched by someone mysterious.
A pair of scintillating eyes caught my attention. I was feeling cautious and petrified. I swiftly darted away from the scene.
Looking behind me for a split-second, I saw… an obscure man in a dark blue suit. He slowly approached me, staring into my eyes. I was frozen from shock.
Suddenly, he pounced on me. I realised it was him… my greatest nemesis, Timmy… Tuff… Knuckles.
*
Lucas is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 455
World War 1
by Kiyara
I’m April. My brother, John, is fighting with the ANZACS. I miss him. We send letters.
Dear April,
Living in trenches isn’t nice. War is very scary. Love you!
-John
I reply:
Dear John,
We love you. Stay safe.
-April
The war was scary.
Dear April,
I’ve got Pnuemonia. I’ll be OK.
-John
I write:
Dear John,
We miss you. Get well soon.
-April
He never got it. The returned letter lay on the table. Everyone sobbing. I left the table.
I write:
Dear John,
I know you’ll never read this, but I want to say. You're my mentor. I’ll always remember you.
-Love April
*
Kiyara is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 456
Anger & Fear
by Hazel
Anger
Can you hear the shouting of a million voices?
I am! I am! I am!
I am the fire blazing behind your eyes
I am the red hot embers
I am the bloodstained sword
I am the undying flicker of revenge
I am the desire to kill
I am the army marching
I am anger.
Fear
Can you hear the whispers behind your ears?
I am… I am… I am…
I am the darkness engulfing your brain
I am the chills creeping up your spine
I am the venom paralyzing your legs
I am the icy blood flowing through your veins
I am the dark curtains blocking all sunlight
I am fear.
*
Hazel is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 457
Betrayed by Blood
by Maya
Chloe gasped before succumbing to the curse, “Run. I can’t survive!” She let out a blood-curdling scream.
Eve sprinted through the dark hollow passages she’d memorised – her childhood, her life she now didn’t recognise, her home dispersing into ashes.
“Goodbye, Chloe…” Raven cackled.
“Mother—” Chloe started, but Raven vanished into smoke. Gone. Won.
Eve’s hand closed on the drink. Beneath the curse, the real Chloe was still there. She darted behind Chloe, silent despite the excruciating fire scorching, seeping deeper into her flesh with every step. She poured the goblet into Chloe's mouth, freeing her.
And Raven… Never. Free. Again.
*
Maya is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 458
Whispers in the Dark
by Samaya
“Help, get me out of here!” Nova screamed. She banged on the windows making the house shake. “Please!” she cried with despair.
A shiver crawled up her spine, whispers rang in her ears and thoughts rippled through her brain. What if I'm here forever?
Ripped curtains covered the walls of the dilapidated, immensely ancient house. The silence screamed louder than any cry.
BOOM! A mysterious puff of smoke rose. Nova slowly staggered around, her eyes glued to the floor. She gazed up, and in front of her was a figure.
“Please,” Nova begged, “Don’t hurt me…”
*
Samaya is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 459
My Day as a Blue Jay
by Maddie
I’m a blue jay with navy wings turning into sapphire blue.
I plucked some seeds from the birdfeeder and flew off towards the meeting point for me, Indigo and Shadow. We flew off to Miss Dodd’s class for jays.
I loved to gather with my BFFs, Indie and Shade. I always picked the peanuts and acorns from the forest and shared them with Indie and Shade.
Then we learnt to build nests from twigs, moss and bark stripes. By that time, we hid the remainder of our food in the bushes. The sun was setting.
*
Maddie is 10 and lives in New Zealand.
Story 461
Rather Be
by Briella Haynes
I'd rather be deaf than blind,
So then I wouldn't have to hear everyone being unkind.
Being blind is living in the dark.
You would be living like a question mark.
I wouldn't have to think before I speak,
So I don’t end up looking like a “freak.”
I wouldn't have to hear my voice,
And I really prefer that choice.
The blind hear the irritating hysterical cries,
While the deaf can be peaceful, watching the pretty blue skies.
The blind hear every word said,
While I would hear words that were meant to be spread.
*
Briella is 13 and lives in the USA.
Story 462
The Slow Demise
by Iris Wormald
Without warning, Emmeline Denouement jolted awake. Her vision was blurred.
Sirens cut through the air as ambulance lights flashed and injured citizens shouted across the street. It took a moment for it to register – she was one of them.
Pain throbbed at the back of her head, and her blouse was stained with blood. Heat still hung in the air. Behind her was a building, burned down and crumbling, windows blown open. Memory came in fragments: fire, a deafening bang, glass breaking.
She tried to stand but couldn’t. She collapsed again. The world spun and, slowly, everything went black.
*
Iris is 12 and lives in the UK.
Story 463
The Questions Beside There
by Rosie Lee
I see it in the way you look
I see it in the way you stare
Though your eyes slowly drift over
There.
Took your attention from me,
To something more to seek.
If she held the ring,
Would I be the one collecting your gaze?
Would she be the one saying all the
Love yous
Whilst you thought of me?
If this love were over,
Would you still feel so incomplete?
*
Rosie is 13 and lives in England.
Story 464
The Third Floor
by Ella-Louise Hadley
My mother had always told me and my siblings never to go to the third floor in the house. I don't know the reason, but I'm going to find out.
I slowly crept up the stairs and unlocked the door latch. The panic was building up in me. What is behind this door?
I placed my hands on the door and pushed. My eyes took a moment to focus but when I saw what I saw, I fainted.
*
Ella-Louise is 14 and lives in the UK.
Story 465
My Chapeltown Dream
by Yahya Qayum
I am the team captain, leader
For two years, I have never missed a game
I urge my team to keep going! Be Strong!
Parents nervously stand behind the fence
Supporting, shouting, encouraging
Chase strikes into the top corner
BANG
The goalie falls and our team cheers
I can see a Liverpool scout watching us
He carefully follows my movement
I play STRONG
I dream that one day I will play at Anfield with Mo Salah, Mac Allister and Frimpong
In my dream, the Liverpool fans shout my name
I take the penalty kick
For a moment the whole stadium is quiet
GOAL!
I am a hero and we are the champions.
*
Yahya is 7 and lives in the UK.
Story 466
Envy
by Georgie
Envy.
It was a negative word.
It meant to feel jealous of other people.
But she never felt that.
She had it all.
Family. Happiness. Love.
Then she lost it all.
It was ripped away from her as quickly and easily as breathing.
She wondered and wondered; she went over in her head what she had done to deserve everything being taken away from her.
Perhaps she had been too arrogant and cruel to those less fortunate.
She sat on the marble floor of her bathroom and wondered again what she’d done to deserve this.
Because she never really learned.
*
Georgie is 14 and lives in Scotland.
Story 467
3:07 AM
by Katie Furness
Every night, Emma's baby monitor crackled at exactly 3:07 am. She lived alone. Her son had died three years ago. Still, the monitor whispered soft lullabies from the empty nursery.
One night, trembling, she forced herself to look. The crib was gently rocking. A smaller shape stood beside it, back turned towards her.
"Mummy," it whispered.
Emma burst into tears. "Oliver?"
The figgure slowly turned. Its face was far too long, its smile packed with tiny black teeth. The monitor hissed.
"He calls me Mummy now."
*
Katie is 14 and lives in the UK.
Story 468
Priceless
by Emma
A wallet. Such a small, simple item, yet it holds so much meaning to me.
My dad gave it to me on my 12th birthday, the only gift I received that year. It’s worn; its damaged nature made me turn my nose up at it at first. However, I began to treasure it as soon as my dad passed.
I keep his spirit within the bindings of the leather wallet. Knowing that he is always with me brings me comfort and provides me some peace, even in this war-torn world.
This wallet, I know, will save me one day.
*
Emma is 17 and lives in the UK.
Story 469
The Day I Died, I Remained Breathing
by Selma Muller
The day I died, I remained breathing.
Breathless, I stood in utter disbelief. A bouquet of yellow dandelions in my hand, my hair thrown back, my eyes burning from crying, my heart heavy, filled with ancient regrets. Every raised voice echoed down my spine, sending electric shots throughout my whole body.
It was my grandmother's funeral.
My family was never perfect. I knew that. They didn’t.
Their irrelevant discussion throbbed in my ears as I placed the yellow dandelions on her grave and I saw her one last time.
I died later that day, but remained breathing.
*
Selma is 14 and lives in Spain.
Story 470
A Pack of Tissue
by Gabrielle Chan
Every time I cry, I blow my nose. If I wipe the table, I use the same pack of tissue. It seems that it never runs out.
I have tried looking for more at home but I can’t find any. I wonder, if I need a tissue but the pack ran out, what would i do?
What would happen?
*
Gabrielle is 11 and lives in Hong Kong.
Story 471
Sons
by Carson Cowan
Prelude:
The mother’s eyes are swollen; watery mauve. She calls for her son.
Interlude:
“Hello.”
“T-tell me,” she whispers. “Is my son a-alive?” Her voice is as shaky as her hands. Like all the others.
“We understand what you're going through.” There’s hope in her eyes – bright but fragile. It’s a shame. “But you must not think of him as your son. He was a perpetrator.”
Her wail tells me she understands.
Postlude:
Water – or blood – drips from the threadbare bunk above mine; too dark to know. He was never a perpetrator. He was a son. And so was I.
*
Carson is 15 and lives in the USA.
Story 472
Sea & Sand
by Anika Sharma
As the waves approach, the glittering sand flows through my gaunt fingers, passing on the warmth of the sea. The powdery sand removes all my worries of time.
Alongside it, the rolling waves advance and recede, washing my worries away. The sea whispers to me as it rises and listens as it retreats. The vastness of its smooth, glassy texture unfolds across the endless horizon, swallowing distance in a silver infinity. The sky drapes over the sapphire water like a velvet curtain. The silky sea unravels into the untouched azure, erasing the horizon, weaving the sky and sea seamlessly.
The depth of the silence is barely shattered by the soft, aqueous sigh caressing the sand. The weight of the world slowly evaporates off my shoulders and pours into the retreating waves.
*
Anika is 13 and lives in the USA.
Story 473
Haunted... Or Not
by Neve Wilson
Deep in the depths of the new forest,
Lies a village.
From high up above you see thatched roofs,
And small white cottages,
But look a little closer and you'll see,
A grave yard in the middle,
Scuttling centipedes on roofs.
Then look even closer and you'll see,
Ominous green lights,
Black figures slowly moving round in the shadows,
And most terrifying of all,
Are the flashes of fear that pass your eyes as you look into the darkness.
So, who really knows?
Is it haunted... or not?
*
Neve is 10 and lives in the UK.
This website was established in 2011. It was redesigned in 2024.
The “Amazing Young Writers 401 to 500” page was published after the redesign.
Comments are welcome. Please feel free to share your thoughts and ask questions.
Comments