Read the entries to previous WriteStuff competitions.
On the laptop in front of her flashes an image of a supermodel. The teenager moves her hands swiftly over the keyboard, replicating, fragmenting, checking angles. She reads intently from a script, her eyes flickering nervously. Several more keystrokes. The image fades and another appears - her own distorted features. Around her, in endless rows her peers sit, silent as a catacomb, concentrating on their own patchwork quilts. Frantic clicks. The walls pulsate menacingly with the thrum of their blood. They know their lives depend on this.
Eve swallows hard, forcing the fear back down her throat. She’s not the worst off in here. She needs less work - the words, “Do what it takes!” ruminating in her mind.
The heavy door flies open. “Two minutes ladies! Finishing touches please. Pray to the States that you’ve succeeded.” declares Ms Figish.
Eve looks at her through narrowed eyes, ”However did you get through the trials?” she thinks contemptuously.
Ms Figish gazes over the hapless sixth form. ”Perfection!” she pronounces “perfect attendance, perfect grades, perfect looks. Uphold the values of this school or … well.“ With a dismissive shrug and tight-lipped sneer, she raises a pencil-thin brow.
Fear-filled eyes rove around the room resting briefly on each other, none of them wanting to linger too long on a lost friend. Who will make it?
The waiting begins. The men outside deciding their fate. Whatever nips and tucks the girls have presented in their plans will be scrutinised, graded and costed. Half will be moved to the clinic – the fruits of their labour granted. The guards will take the rest. Eve thought of her mother’s damp cheeks this morning. Neither spoke, knowing the reality. Her mother would never see her again… at least not with this face…. not in this perfect world.
By Henry Rodger, year 7, Elizabeth College
Finally, we were ready to take back the island that was rightfully ours after Sinog took it from Bro...Read story
By Lauren Ferneyhough, year 9, Grammar School
Through the village tunnels, past the Pearl Rock Museum, and across the Shark Bridge, Chip and her mum grew closer and closer...Read story
By szymon hibner, year 6, Notre Dame School
Chapter 1 Sticks Close to the sea there was a little village called Sticks. Sticks,which was fill...Read story
By Cayden Tardif, year 7, Grammar School
Nervously, quietly, two excited adults wandered into an ordinary hospital, for an ordinary procedur...Read story
By Grace Bougourd, year 6, Amherst School
“Why can there be no dancing?” asked Bella. “How dare you ask me that, it's none of your business...Read story
By Yannick Gaudion, year 7, Elizabeth College
Far away on an engineered island lived a boy, the last boy alive. His name was Harry and he was super smart...Read story
By erick gomes, year 8, La Mare de Carteret School
One dreadful day some sort of thing was appearing it was an island i was on my boat and i found an i...Read story
By Maisie Belford, year 9, Grammar School
Ellegaard stared in disbelief at the rogue in the wagon. He sat, smoking his pipe,his hood over his...Read story
By Rio Gaudion, year 9, Grammar School
Life is all about the food chain, the higher up you are the more chance of survival. Everyone out th...Read story
By Joseph Blake, year 9, Elizabeth College
Poof! This is my imagination and entirely dreamed up. Are you still here? You must want to read on...Read story