7th/8th Grade
It was a cold and stormy night as the high school debate team slept soundly on their coach bus. They were heading to the ever-anticipated debate semifinals, where they would compete against some of the top teams in the country to advance to the championship. Rain pattered against the windows as they drove down the dark road, nothing but corn fields for miles on either side of them. Everything was calm until suddenly, the bus started swerving uncontrollably across the road. The students roused themselves from their sleep, and chaos broke loose. Mr. Smith, the teacher and chaperone of the group, urged the students to stay calm, and he assured them that everything was fine. He himself was terrified as he scrambled to the front of the bus to check on the driver. The bus veered wildly off the road and slammed into a fence bordering the corn fields. Mr. Smith was knocked to the ground, but still he crawled slowly to the driver’s seat. To his horror, the driver was slumped over in his seat. Blood ran down his shirt from a cut across his neck. Some sort of creature had done this; Mr. Smith was sure of it. He was petrified, but he didn’t want to alarm the students anymore. The bus had slowly started to tip over, and the screech of the steel wire on the fence was audible as it scraped against the outside of the bus’s hull. Mr. Smith was thrown sideways, and more screams erupted from the students, now hanging from their seats, only their seatbelts stopping them from collapsing onto the ground. Mr. Smith desperately gathered his wits and started to execute the emergency procedure. He ordered everyone to immediately evacuate the bus. Once everyone was off the bus, Mr. Smith produced a flashlight from out of the emergency kit he had recovered from the glove compartment at the front of the bus where the driver still lay, motionless. As the rain started to fall harder, he led the shaking band of students away from the bus, which suddenly burst into flames. The students gasped, realizing that they had been just moments from certain death. Stunned, they observed the bus, a mess of twisted and burning metal. After their senses returned to them, they slowly turned back around to Mr. Smith. But Mr. Smith was no longer standing at the front of the group. A quiet croaking sound rose from a heap of mauled flesh on the ground. Mr. Smith lay there, or at least what was left of him, breathing his last breath as blood gushed from a cut on his neck. A cut identical to the one on the neck of the dead bus driver.
On a dark, ominous night. A girl (let’s call her Geny) and her friend (let’s call her Nadia) were vacationing in a secluded lodge in the woods. They went on this vacation because they heard rumors that it was haunted. They were searching up demon names while watching scary movies.
“Hey geny, do you remember that one Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode we watched?” said Nadia.
“Oh of ALL of the tree houses of horror they have I will remember the specific name” sarcastically said Geny with an unamused face.
“Oh my the one based on the exorcist?” Nadia said annoyed.
“Oh yeah I remember, why do you ask?”
“Well I decided to look up a demon like it and I found a demon that possess you until your body eventually disintegrates”
To be continued…
The night laid dim on my pupils
Pitch black.
Not knowing where to go or where I am
Pitch black.
My vision is blurry.
Pitch black.
The subtle light I grasped like a hand.
I followed it.
Pitch black.
Not knowing where to go or where I am.
Where is this light taking me?
Is it a street light or the light at the end of the tunnel
Pitch black.
Murmurs from a voice.
It looked pitch white?
“Close your eyes” It said
My vision is clear.
An old man? Why at this time of the night?
No streetlights. No moon.
What was the light I followed?
“Close your eyes,” it said. Why am I closing my eyes? What is he hiding from me?
It disappeared in thin air.
Why didn’t I listen? Mutilated. Scarring. Goring.
“Close my eyes”
“Close my eyes”
“Close my eyes,” I begged. And begged. Again.
I rub my hands to my face.
Pitch black.
I remember where home was.
Why am I crying?
I’m home now.
Why are they crying?
“My poor boy,” they wept.
They rush to me with their arms.
My hands unclench
Pitch black.
They had picked up the two last things that would see that old man again.
Their hands laid dim on my pupils.
I walked through the forest with brightly colored leaves of all shapes and sizes crunching beneath my feet with every step I took. I was surrounded by trees swaying in the wind, birds chirping in their nests, and animals hunting prey. My friends and I have all just carved are name it a tree closest to the most feared cave. But currently, we were playing hide and seek. At this time I was the seeker but my friends were nowhere to be found. I looked up at the dark night sky watching the stars sparkle when I heard rustling in the bushes. I thought it was Atlas because he was the clumsiest person I have ever met and it was hilarious. But as I crept closer calling Atlas’s name I noticed it was not him. My skin turned white and my heart stopped when I saw was a coyote feasting and the leftover remains of Cherry. Cherry was a 14-year-old girl who just recently went missing and there were search parties every night examining every inch of the forest except Crooked Cave which is filled with numerous mythical creatures or at least that’s what people think. I stood there staring at her lifeless body when the coyote slowly turned its head and we both made eye contact before it leaned forward. We are only inches away from each other when I hear Atlas and Rose screaming in the distance. All of a sudden, I blacked out…
In the quiet night
A girl walks by dancing
Trails of blood behind
Whispers follow her
The memories stay inside
Replayed on repeat
Never knowing why
Others choose this fate for her
Making her angry
A destiny forced
She will always remember
The way they died
Up on her feet
Leaving trails of blood
Forever and ever again
Secrets are kept down by the lake
The smiles down there are all fake
For just a few years ago a girl fell in
She got her foot stuck on a piece of tin
Her body is still down there
Her fate was not fair
Yes, secrets are kept down by that lake
Where all the smiles are fake
For people saw her fall
And heard her call
Yet, no one did anything
And so she drowned
Down by the lake
Where the smiles are all fake
Her family goes down there everyday
The parents tried to drink the pain away
Her brother blames himself, wishing it was him
Because she did know how to swim
But she still drowned down by the lake
Where all the smiles are fake
One night, about 3 years ago, I was spending the night at the hospital on the 7th floor. As I was sleeping a nurse came into my room to check my vitals. Something must have been wrong because I felt a shaking, freezing cold hand grab my arm and before I knew it, I was rushed away to the 13th floor which was the top of the building. A doctor grabbed me and whispered don’t move and don’t talk, they will hear us…..
I opened my eyes and saw 2 doctors, and we were in a closet in the back.
I went to talk but I was stopped with horrified eyes when I saw a man walking by, paused to stop at my window, and then kept walking.
“What’s going on?” I asked, but not too loudly, in case someone was listening. They told me a few weeks ago, there was a lady staying in the hospital. She was in a coma and had no chance of coming out of it, so we took her off life support. Her husband was enraged, claiming that the doctors tried to kill her.
He has a gun and has already killed 13 people.
As we hid in the closet, we heard him come back around. Dr. Jane sneezed, he opened the door, and peered in. A grin appeared on his malicious face and he aggressively led us out of the room with guns to our heads.
Once we got a better look at his face, we screamed with terror, for his face would never be erased from my memory. He gripped his gun in his hand and shot at the doctors with blood streaming down their bodies and onto the floor. Screams filled my head. He looked at me and said “Time to die,”…. I ran as fast as I could with a crazy man chasing me. I ran till I got to the police station and the man was never to be seen again. All I know is he is alive, and the most wanted man in the world.
Tina breathed heavily as she continued her long run. She had been running 100 miles in three days, and now she was passing through the Smoky mountains. The forest surrounding her was dark and eerie, and the trees seemed to pop out of nowhere and smack her in the face. She had been starting to get this uncomfortable feeling as if someone was watching her. All of a sudden, a bolt of pain struck her shoulder, and Tina fell to the ground.
She quickly got up and looked around, but she was in a small clearing and there was nothing around her. Tina scrambled out of the clearing, but the small pain in her shoulder didn’t go away. All through the forest, she felt the pain. It was as if something was pushing on her shoulder. As soon as she escaped the forest, the pain went away and she continued her run. She didn’t think of this moment any more.
“Smile!” her friend yelled, and Tina forced a smile on her face, “C’mon, you got this, Tina!” Tina gave her a half smile, and her friend snapped the picture.
“Can I see it?” asked Tina. Her friend took the camera and showed her the picture, and Tina gasped in surprise.
“What is it?” she asked. Tina couldn’t speak, for the picture was too surprising. There, beside Tina, was a dark outline of another human. They were covered in mud, and none of their face was visible. The person was running, shoulder to shoulder, next to Tina, and they were right next to her hurt shoulder.
“H-Huh? You don’t see it?” Tina stuttered.
“See what?” her friend answered.
“The person!” Tina screamed.
“What person?” her friend asked. “Hello, Tina,” the voice said, and Tina’s scream could be heard from miles away.
After the scream, her friend went inside to find Tina, but she was nowhere to be seen. Police officers searched the whole forest, but her body was nowhere to be found. All they could find were a few muddy footprints leading away from the rest stop.
THE END!
In 1939 world war ll had started blood, sweat, tears, and yells engulfed. Everyone was desperate, hurt, and enraged. It felt like it would never end. 1945 the battle was fought on the battlefield, a boy was running, this boy was Jake. He was 16 years-old, he was panting because unfortunately he was in a fight in the battle and his left arm was cut off. The flesh, and blood fell and the bone stuck out. “Come on, come on almost to the camp, ughhh !” Jake shrieked. Bombs exploded, and a nuke came flying 100 mph per hour. Along with bombs, and gun shots flying. No one expected this big of a move. A man stood on the black ash battlefield ready to die. He knew that this won’t end, so he was ready to accept it. Then Jake raged, because he hates to see people ready to die.
“No no nooo, you and I and the people fighting their butt’s off are not going to die not yet”.
“Just accept it we were meant to die anyway no matter what there will always be hate in this world” the man replied with a sad look.
The old wooden floorboards creak beneath my feet
On the chipped walls, crimson red blood seeps
This hospital is alive with spirits of the deceased
The soft wails far off do nothing to bring my mind to ease
Long hallways stretch into the abyss
Shadows pass by of bloody little kids
I peek into the door around the corner
A body lays open, I scream in horror
Stomach cut open and guts in knots
This wretched sight brings scary thoughts
In the trash can by the door,
Are clumps of eyes bloody and sore
Tongues lay sprawled across the floor
A severed hand at the end of the hospital bed points at me
And disturbing whispers inform me of my destiny
“Your next” they say
And that’s the last I hear before my ears lay-
on the ground
In the dead of night
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped
“Mom!”
As the seconds passed,
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped.
He sat in his racecar bed,
Draped black in the cloak of night.
“Mom, come!”
Before it was too late,
Little Ben cried and cried for his mother
“Mom!”
Moments before, he had awakened from another nightmare
Another dream turned to ash
With the face
Of him.
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped
Footsteps pounded up the stairs
Thump, thump
Thump, thump
More, More,
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped
Her hand twisted the golden doorknob
With a heavy shove, she heaved open the creaking door
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped
“Ben, stop it.
It’s not real.
He’s not real.”
With those words between deep sighs, her face twisted,
Turned with distaste.
“Mom, come back!”
Little Ben screamed at her waning shadow,
“Mom!
Stop!”
With her leave,
Little Ben’s chest raised and dropped
Raised and dropped
The man of New York now in New Mexico.
The house bought, the property sold.
Once in, the man sat.
Suddenly, TAP, TAP, TAP!
A chief of the natives walked in.
“Go,” he said with an eerie grin.
“My love was destroyed here.
If you had any sense, you would feel fear”
The man refused.
Twice more the chief arrived.
He told the man he would be wishing he had died.
That night, the man dreamed of flying out the window to the cornfield.
When he woke, his eyes revealed
he was in the cornfield.
The air was chilled.
The moon as red as if it had killed.
The stars were blinking.
The lights from his house were twinkling.
Running home, he came across a lake that wasn’t there before.
In it, what looked like an opening, circular door.
The lake flashed blue, then green, then red.
The man fell in as if going to bed.
He sunk to the bottom of a lake.
Sunk to what looked like a metal plate.
The chief found him dead.
dead in his own bed.
Throwing the body into the lake, the water set on fire.
The chief’s wife emerged from the flame with skin looking lighter.
She burst into light.
The chief took flight,
not noticing he was running through a maze of crops.
If you look at it from the top,
You would see runes etched in the corn, not known by man.
Then, the lake disappeared with a BLAM!