Summer Stories 2024 from Young Authors

This summer, we challenged young authors to keep writing through the summer heat and complete our Creative Writing BINGO sheet.

Young authors who completed their BINGO sheet and submitted a short story were entered into a draw to win books from Orca Books or gift cards from Russell Books.

We’re so excited to announce our winners for this summer’s Creative Writing BINGO are:

  • Allison, age 13
  • Lucy, age 12
  • Nolan, age 13

Here are their summer stories.

Pencil Review - By a Professional, Highly Acclaimed Critic

By Allison, age 13

I was a bit hesitant at first to try pencils but eventually gave in because it was the only new food that I haven’t tried lying near me. I do not regret trying it at all. The eraser part tastes like rubber with an underlying tone of bitterness and is disgusting, kind of like you. It is chewy, but the wood part is more crunchy and tastes like pine needles. The graphite part melts in your mouth and is definitely the best part. 

If you haven’t tried pencils yet, I would highly recommend you should now because it may give you food poisoning and you are already kind of old, so your health is decreasing by the second, Grandma or Grandpa. 10/10

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Breaking News

By Lucy, age 12

It was past midnight and he was lying on his bed working on his math homework when it happened. It was a bloodcurdling sound, sending shivers through his body. The scream, filled with pure terror, lasted only a second before being muffled by something… or someone. 

Jacob glanced out the window cautiously, but it was too dark to see anything. He crept out of his room carefully and quietly opened the door to his mom’s room. She was fast asleep, and Jacob was reluctant to disturb her. He could hear his dad, Mr. Jones, snoring loudly in the room next door, so there was no point checking if he was awake. Jacob wondered if the scream had just been a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately because of the heap of schoolwork that he never had time to do during the day. Comforting himself with this thought, he went back to his room to finish up his math and go to sleep. It was silent for the rest of the night, and Jacob quickly forgot about the scream. 

“Breaking news,” Mr. Jones read from the newspaper as he, Jacob, and Mrs. Jones gathered around the table eating breakfast. Jacob drowned out the sound of Mr. Jones’ monotone voice by playing loud rock music on his headphones. Lost in his thoughts, his mind traveled back to the scream he’d heard last night as he absently chewed on his cereal. Jacob wondered if he had really heard it. Terrible theories started to fill his mind, and he was starting to doubt his own sanity. “What if somebody was killed?” A voice whispered in his head. Shaking off the unreasonable thoughts, Jacob quickly scarfed down the rest of his cereal. 

As he got up to get seconds, he realized that Mr. Jones had stopped reading the newspaper abruptly, his eyes wide with shock. He murmured something to Mrs. Jones and she grabbed the newspaper, staring at it in disbelief. Jacob quickly tore off his headphones, letting them clatter to the ground. “What happened?” He asked uneasily, feeling a sense of foreboding. Mrs. Jones glanced quietly at him for a few seconds, her eyes filled with concern and looking unusually subdued. Turning away with discomfort, she passed him the newspaper.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

UMBRELLA

By Nolan, age 13

Memories. 

Memories I try not to forget. Memories of being free. Memories soon to vanish. I remember the days when I could frolic and flourish, when I could walk at night without a worry. Moments I should have been grateful for, things I could have been thankful for, never to happen again. 

Never. 

My days of joy and freedom all gone. 

Gone. Gone and never to return. 

I lay in agony on the soaked floor, crying. Red hot tears streaming down my cheeks. How had it come to this? My mind rolled back as if I had hit the rewind button on a remote control, and then I recalled. 

**** 

Years ago—when I was free—I had been playing in the park, pretending I was a fighter pilot. I would swoop out of the sky and defeat wicked enemies. At that time, I’d been so caught up in playing that I had forgotten it was dinnertime. So, I’d decided to take a stroll home but then, rain came pouring down like a waterfall and everybody around me had fled to their homes. Fortunately, I had not to worry, for I had an umbrella, my prized umbrella. For my seventh birthday, my grandmother had dropped by to gift me the most fabulous umbrella. It was covered in a mass assortment of stripes and was relatively large. 

That night, I’d walked without a worry, I had my umbrella and it would always protect me from whatever dangers might occur, that was what my grandmother had told me when presenting the umbrella to me. I would splash and skip along my way to home. But, was interrupted when a loud bang roared throughout the city. That was when it had all begun. Soon more loud noises and sounds rang out, rang out and screeched. This time another bang had sounded but this one was unlike the others, it sounded close. I tumbled to the ground in confusion, everything was so chaotic, people were running and hollering, pushing aside each other. Just a second ago, they’d been running home, why come back? 

And then I finally realized when I saw the limp body of an old man, a pool of red forming beneath him, this town was under attack—we were at war. Soldiers came in from all directions, swarming citizens like wasps. And that was all I could remember. 

**** 

My life had been hard, living for years in fear and hatred, the hatred that my parents had left me. I lifted myself off the ground and ran for shelter, a place to hide. But to my surprise my legs stopped and I tripped over. All the years of running had worn me out. 

Soldiers soon circled around me and I cried, pouted and screamed for help. 

As I struggled to get out of their grasp, my umbrella slid out of my hand. And then, finally, I realized, my umbrella, my guardian, my protector, was no longer able to protect me.