Fay Stirling's story Jumping to Conclusions was first in the Year 7 and 8 category.
Fay Stirling's story Jumping to Conclusions was first in the Year 7 and 8 category.
The annual school short story competition run by the Northland Branch of the New Zealand Society of Authors always attracts lots of entries.
Judges Fraser Smith and Patricia Fenton said this year brought the highest number of submissions and they were delighted with the level of participation.
“We were struck by the creativity and originality among the range of young authors. There were stories that were so action-packed we felt as though we were riding along with the writer, stories that tugged at our heartstrings, and others that made us laugh out loud.
“We commend all the writers who submitted their stories, and the teachers who supported them through the valuable learning process of preparing their work for a wider audience. We look forward to seeing even more submissions in 2025.”
There were two sections - Year 7 and 8, and High School. Here are the Year 7 and 8 winners:
I urged Viking into a canter as we entered the arena, excited to get the round started. The jumps were set at 1.3 metres, a personal best for us.
It seemed like yesterday Viking was a tiny foal, being licked by his mother. “Good Boy,” I said, patting his neck. Viking was loving every minute of it – he knew he owned my heart.
The beginning of the round was picture perfect. The last fence was in my sight, all we had to do was clear the rail and be under the time allowed. One, I looked at the fence. Two, I counted my strides. Three, perfect takeoff. YAY, over – and about to win – when, NO! A dog barked. Viking spooked.
Down, down, down – I hit the ground. Pitch black.
All around me I heard sirens wailing. Everything was foggy. I could make out a shadow sitting beside me. Squinting, I saw who it was.
“Dad,” I whispered.
“Oh, goodness, I....... worried. Hang......... there....... will......OK.” I could barely hear him.
I tried to concentrate, but it was too much for me. I drifted off again.
Hearing murmuring around me, I slowly lifted my head and looked around. I was in a hospital bed! I could make out the blurry figures of Mum, Dad, and a stranger – was that a doctor?
I rolled over on my side wincing in pain. I was extremely nervous to see what had happened to me. Would I still be able to ride?
Suddenly, a horrible thought came into my head and a shout came out of my mouth, surprising everyone, including myself.
I was panicking – my whole body was shaking – was he OK? The pinto I loved with all my heart could break it forever.
Second Place
The Futsal Tournament, By Sidhesh
Springbank School
Give it up, Charlie, we’ll never win. I never win. This thought repeated over and over, tormenting me.
Anxiety took over the night before the tournament and I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about tomorrow’s games and what might happen. When I finally fell asleep, it felt like I had just closed my eyes before it was time to get up.
The next morning, I was tired as I waited for the school bus. “Of course,” I sighed as I realised I’d forgotten my futsal shoes. I quickly ran back to grab them.
When I reached the bus stop, I saw the bus leaving. I sprinted as fast as I could, and thankfully, the driver noticed me and pulled over. I was so relieved to make it to school just in time to catch the van with my team.
When we arrived at the tournament, we got ready for our first game. We played hard, but we lost. We only had five minutes to rest and prepare for the next game. Even though we tried our best, that game ended in a draw.
After some quick training and a few snacks, it was time for the next game. I resolved to do my best in the face of defeat. When the third game started, surprisingly, we worked together as a team, played our best – and finally we won our first game of the day! Our first game of the season!
My first winning game ever!
The feeling of victory was amazing! I am so glad I didn’t give up.
Rain fell gently through the forest canopy trickling down the tree trunks and sliding off the leaves. A small stream glistened as a soft beam of warm light filtered between the high branches.
An eye blinked. A small, bulging, brown eye. It’s little moss green slimy body in a glob, enjoying the drops of rain that fell upon its back. The frog croaked, a short, low, crackling noise, then abruptly hopped away into the shadow of a tree.
All was quiet, only the sound of pattering rain dared to break the silence. Suddenly a bucket of water droplets showered down from above. Sunlit turquoise feathers ruffled as a cold, soaked pigeon sat miserably on his branch. He flapped his stunning wet wings and took off, swooping between the tree trunks. A gush of wind whooshed past a dead cabbage tree as the pigeon swept by.
Two pairs of large orange eyes glowed in the dark hole of the tree. As a clawed, umber paw gripped the rim of the gap, the rain fell harder. Hammering the moss, wind ripping through the bush tearing at the branches as it went. The sky turned dark. Gloomy clouds drifted wearily across the sky. A train-like rumbling arose from behind the hills. As mist drifted through the forest, the streams began to rise, turning into mighty rivers and surging through the bush. The sky flashed white, a snaking strike of lightning slithered to the ground quicker than a blink, crashing into the forest.
One spark is all it took … to set the whole thing alight.
