Scrapyard Kids’ Stories

The First Attack by Miriam Kupa

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Huff.. Huff… I breathed heavily as I sprinted on the track. Sprinting for an hour straight and completely exhausted. I was meeting up with some friends at the Redwoods for lunch. It wasn’t much further, I could see the tips of the trees from here. The light winds brushed against my cold face. Flocks of birds twittered rapidly as they flew past. It looked like they were trying to get away from something but I wasn’t sure. “Woah!” I yelled as I came to a halting stop. Too busy admiring what was around me, I almost ran straight off a cliff. Getting myself together, I continued my journey towards the Redwoods.

I spotted my friends Jade and Ethan sitting on a worn down bench near a trickling stream. I took a seat between them as they laid out some fish and chips. We chowed down and shared stories. Talked about the recent fighting between New Zealand and America. We were having a good laugh until a roar echoed throughout the hills. Of course my usual curious self ran in search of a clearing. My friends followed behind. By the time I turned a few corners I could see the cloudless sky that stretched out above me. In the sky, jets soared in groups of 10 or so at a time. Bewildered by the sight, I stumbled backwards. Curious, I continued along until I had a clear view of the town. But I regretted what I witnessed. Those same jets released bombs over town, over home. Scared, I dropped to my knees as tears streamed down my pale face.

A tap on my shoulder. I flinch. It’s Jade.

“We should go down and see if there are survivors” Jade suggested.

“Ok,” I shakily replied.

When we reached the bottom we were horrified. Fire was raging throughout town, heat waves hitting us instantly,  the sky was painted with thick black smoke, limbs were scattered across the ashy ground.

“Your house is closest let’s go,” said Ethan.

“Stay under cover whenever you can,” whispered Jade. “We don’t want who did this to see us.”

Avoiding fires and bodies we made our way to my house which was just down the road. The closer we got the more nervous and scared I was. We had now reached my house I stood in front of it silently. It was barely recognisable. For a second I doubted it was even my home. Without thinking about it I found myself entering the front door hoping my family was alive.

The Voice by Megan Harvey

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Before it happened the world was quiet. You could sleep at night without the fear of not waking up in the morning, and you could see the moon in the sky shining over the land. But now that’s all gone, the moon has disappeared into the smoke and hasn’t been seen for a few weeks. My fears have taken over my brain. I feel as if every time I close my eyes it will be the last time I see the sun.

My brother and parents had been killed in the night. I remember the intruders: soft, quiet voices that it made me feel unsafe as soon as they arrived. They said they were from a place far away. They said they were going to help us. I never trusted them.

I heard the gunshots closing in as I scavenged through the cupboards, stuffing everything I could find into my bag, but had no idea what to do or where to go. I felt as if my worst nightmare had come to life and there was no waking up.

I peered out the dusty window and waited for a clear time to run out and down into town. Panicking, I squinted trying to see through the smoke and dust who was out here but I couldn’t see a single soul. I started to think there was no-one else around here.

The gunshots had stopped and I panicked more. Questions spouted in my mind: what if they were all killed? what if there was no one left apart from me? I told myself they just went to get more stuff but I doubted it by far. I decided to keep going, anything could be right behind me and I wasn’t dying today.

Foolproof by Mathias Hansen

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I need to be careful. The bunker is surrounded by cities. The only thing I can do is wait for them to eat each other, and I could tunnel underneath them.

I have a hole in the centre of the area, but when I poke my head out, one of the largest cities, usually Juggernaptur or Delhi, charge forward, hoping to squash me like a cockroach. Nate’s managed to secretly enter the gut of Panzerstadt-Linz and sneak some basic supplies, like pigs and crops, so we’re pretty self-sufficient. Soon we’re going to have to make a run for it. I’ve started putting together a drill… But I need fuel. Juggernaptur has plenty of fuel, and plus, it’ll stop them trying to splat us. Nate follows silently as I dig my way under… They all use the same style of gut. So it’s just a matter of finding the weak spot. Pushing the secret cover up, we creep to a quiet corner of the Dismantling Yards, the fuel tanks directly opposite. With numb fingers, I drag a pipe to the outlet, and point it into the hole, with a fuel hopper underneath to catch it. Then we drag it home… It’s foolproof! What can go wrong?

Mutant Dawn by Madison Mildon

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It really is “something” up here, I thought. I took in the scenery, yawned hugely and dozed off to sleep. When I woke, the place was murky. Wait, it wasn’t like this when I got here, I thought. It’s probably just the weather. I brushed away the thought and took in the scene.  It really is gorgeous up here, isn’t it?  I turned away to get dressed. When I turned back, I felt like something was wrong. Like a puzzle with a piece missing. But I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I went to go pack my tent. A slight breath of wind came in and sent a chill down my spine. This doesn’t feel right, I’m leaving. I was around halfway to the car when something caught my eye. I could have sworn I saw a pair of eyes look up curiously, but it was gone before I could glance back again. I pretty much sprinted to the car, I was so spooked.

After what felt like 10 solid hours, I reached the car. I climbed in and bolted the door. Just in case. As soon as the door was locked, I felt safe for the first time since this morning. After the sun slowly started to seep through the mist, I stepped outside sheepishly and peered around slowly. My breath came out in a rush. I was safe, for now.  Okay, everything looks normal again, time to go see the family, hopefully, they are still alive.  I kick started the car and left, still  traumatised.

When I reached my childhood home, I hesitantly stepped in. The place was dead quiet. I flicked on the T.V and waited. And waited. And waited.

Frustrated, I went round to the neighbours. The door was ajar like they had left in a hurry. I let myself in and looked around. Everyone was gone. Like they had simply disappeared.

I searched the house. Fear slowly making its way through my body.  Dread was rising fast. If I don’t find out what’s going on, I could be next. I turned around to head out the door when it slammed shut. I jumped back in surprise and realised I had to find a way out. I tried to pick the lock, but that didn’t work. Stop and think, analyze the situation, I thought. I slowed down and thought about what to do.  Maybe, I can escape out the window.  I looked around for the nearest window. I spotted it and hesitantly crept over to the window, expecting something to jump out at me.

To my surprise, nothing came out and the window was wide open, as if  inviting me to jump out. Relief flooded over me as I looked out into the daylight. As I gazed out the window, I spotted something. It was big. It was scary. It was looking at me. It was snarling. I scrambled out the window and bolted  down the street. When I looked back, I caught a good glimpse at it. Big, black, with blood-red eyes. I forced myself to look forward and raced ahead. I looked back again and froze. It was then that I found out where everybody had disappeared to. Those things had taken them, killed them , then ate them. I snuck a glance back and spotted my family back where everybody else was. In a small pile at the start of the street. It was then that I  realised that they had come, they had taken over. They were in charge now. They were mutants. And they were coming to kill me. I realised I was going to die. Soon. The thing had caught up with me. I fainted out of fright. When I came to, the thing was looming over me. Darkness filled my eyes. It was the end. I was gonna die.

One thought on “Scrapyard Kids’ Stories

  1. You can definitely see your enthusiasm in the work you write. The world hopes for even more passionate writers like you who aren’t afraid to say how they believe. Always follow your heart.

    Like

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