Write Stuff

Intermediate. Years 7/8/9


By pip gallagher, year 8, Grammar School

"Berta? Berta. Pack your things honey, we have to leave. I'm sorry honey, I know it's early."
My eyes slowly opened, a thin line of light slicing my eyelid, opening a touch more to reveal mother standing over me, her hand on my shoulder - presumably to gently prod me awake.
"Mother, what's the matter? What's going on? Is father okay?"
"Darling, father's fine. Get out of bed, pack your belongings and come with me. I'll explain on the way. We are going to Anna's house - we're staying there for a while."
Anna's house was one of my most favourite places in the world, something was always cooking, the smell swarming into every room like a sleeping smell, making everyone feel relaxed... Though it wasn't enough to mask the terror that was slowly poisoning every inch of my body. Mother had told me that the Germans were coming for us, they would not rest until every Jew had been vanquished - she made me promise that if she said 'hide' we had to to do just that, right away. I was a Jew. My family had a Jewish bloodline. Nobody knew how long we had to live - and that was what scared me the most.
"Open up! Now, or death!"
My heart has never beaten that hard or fast before. In that moment, right there, I felt isolated, alone, in a dark place. I believed I was about to die. I suddenly felt very conscious of pieces of hair or clothing poking out of the blanket in this cold attic.
I felt like someone had flung me off a building.
My mother's scream, quiet to me, but also deathly loud.
"You're a Jew? You come with us. Pete? Grab the other one."
Then, silence.

Liked this story? Read another one.

The night I got out

I woke up in a pitch black room, in a pitch black house, in the pitch black night and heard the sound...

By Kai Townsend, year 8, Grammar School

Read story

Bomb Runner

It was a cold and dark winter's night in London. Andrew and Marcus weaved through the streets, afraid...

By Joshua Duddy, year 9, Elizabeth College

Read story

The first letter home

Dear mother and father, I am so sad without you with me. I miss you. But I had a fun day yesterday...

By Ethan Pratt, year 7, St Sampson’s School

Read story

Getting away

While standing in the frosty, dark alley, sneakily watching out for the horrible ghastly germans, I saw families in the distance frantically running around.

By Elisha Bougeard, year 7, St Sampson’s School

Read story


Syria. 2011. The world that wrapped around me appeared like hell; the grass no longer showing due to...

By Alicia Bailey, year 9, Grammar School

Read story

Browse stories by category

Primary. Up to age 11 (years 3, 4, 5, 6)

Intermediate: Up to age 14 (years 7, 8, 9)

Secondary: Age 15 and over (year 10 plus)