At last! Here are the winners of our 8-12 year old Spilling Ink Writing Contest. We received many, many excellent entries and this contest was one of the hardest to judge. We hope you'll love the winners as much as we did. Because there were so many good entries, we added a long list of Honorable Mentions. Thanks to everyone who entered! Even if you didn't win, we hope you'll try again! - Anne and Ellen
FIRST PRIZE:
SHE * IS * CREATION
By Ruby G., age
IN THE BEGINNING, She was the only one. She walked upon her earth, a terrain of dirt, grass, and puddles of water. She did not have a body, but a mere soul, the first human to ever be. The Whispers did not name her, that was only for the modern day human society-but called her, She.
She had a simple mind, only what was brought out to her. The wind was cold, the sun was warm, these were little things She had been taught of. She learned to live amongst things, the Whispers telling her what to do and She did them. She liked the Whispers, but they had told her some things that She did not favor.
She crawled up to the fog as her bedding, and tucked herself into its serene, shadowy whiteness. Above her, was a sky of blue, shining with burning, twinkling stars and a silver crescent moon. She looked to where the sky lined from blackness to the light blue still fading from day, wanting to be right alongside it, to blend.
She could not sleep.
She floated down from the shipment of fog, and dropped on the dusty plain. A branch of some tree hung in her way, but She tread past it, slipping across the water. She didn't move it, and it stood still in its obscure posture. She was there, but as a bodiless soul, She never seemed to be.
She lightly made her way to a pool, and looked down, knowing she would never see her reflection peer back from the surface of the water. She remembered this, from her last life. She had been so pretty, that people looked at her forever. The Whispers told her not to think of that life, but She remembered things. She remembered how She had died, when her friend Kelle had rammed them into a tree. She knew Kelle was gone too, but She didn't even know where to look.
She hovered above the ground, remembering the first things the Whispers had said. They had taught her the ways of this land, the real structure.
"We are the Whispers. We aren't human, you must remember that, so we cannot converse with you, but simply give you instructions on certain things. We roam too, we are bodiless like you. Do not try to return to your past life, you have been brought here for a purpose, the first human. You were brought to the past, a past life from the future. It's a bit confusing, but you don't need to know that yet. Please try to vanquish any thoughts of your past life, you'll never return anyway."
She thought of it anyway.
My name was Lisi, but the last name remains unknown. I loved the early morning and golden was my favorite color. I thought the smell of Juniper was pretty, and very earthy. I was the most beautiful person anyone in my school had ever seen. I loved Venus the most out of all the planets, and I had no siblings. I was a loner, but everyone loved me anyway.
The voices yelled not to think, but she did, she thought of everyone. Everything. She thought of the Golden, the Juniper, and she imagined holding hands, the thing humans called Love.
A Whisper's voice struck out, "Your time is up!"
Suddenly, everything was black for She. All the words she could never speak came flooding, but the darkness was everywhere. She could not see anything, all alone in a cloaked world. She couldn't feel, so she listened to her voice, as it thundered through her new world, black and dark with only one small thing for comfort; speech.
She was being reincarnated.
* * *
The world blurred and She felt herself fall into place. The velvet interior of a car was around her, and she saw Kelle, smiling. Where was She? Her body was back, and she felt her lips move.
“Where are we?” She asked. She felt the strange sensation of fingers, and moved them on the glass of the car, feeling the newborn touch. They hadn't gotten hit by a tree, and she was still alive. Had the Whispers changed her death? Were they like modern Fates?
“I'm driving you home Lisi. Did you black out or something?” Kelle was there. Lisi was there. The fate had come back, she had her old life. No longer, was She the first organism. The blackness of night was again, the same sky pallor as in the land of She. It was really true, and she didn't know what would come next, but she knew She was gone. This was Lisi's hope.
“I'm back.” Lisi said.
Her paradox was done.
THE END
SECOND PRIZE:
BLUE
by Isadora L., age 12
Moonlight fell through Nancy’s bedroom window. It came to rest on her last birthday present.
“Today I am ten,” Nancy thought to herself. “Double digits!”
Nancy had gotten some very sad news, which had eaten away at her excitement. She started to wonder if she’d ever remember these thoughts. Her hands traced the quilt that her Grandma had made for her when she was a baby. Grandma had given every color on the quilt a number. Orange was one, yellow was two, and purple was three, and so on. Last year she had been nine, which was red. This year she was ten, which was blue, like the ocean.
Frost clouded the window, and outside snow lined the streets. Car’s headlights cast shadows across Nancy’s bedroom walls as they drifted down Elm Street. Headlights illuminated her tidy, small room. The walls were painted blue, and the floor was wooden with a little, oval gray carpet next to her bed. On the windows were little white curtains with a rose design. Nancy’s bed was plain and wooden with yellow cream bed sheets covered by her Grandma’s quilt. In the far right of the room was a little desk with a chair. Also there was a little bedside table next to her bed and in front of the window. The room was tiny but Nancy felt safe and cozy in it.
Nancy turned to look at the last present, enclosed in a plain, wooden box. It was the only one from her Grandma. A sob rose to her throat, her grandma had died just today, on her birthday. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and tried to blink back the rest of the tears. Grandma’s doctors told them that she had died of a heart disease. She imagined her energetic grandma lying on the floor, frail and helpless unable to move. A shiver went up her spine; she didn’t want to think about it.
Uncertainly, she reached towards the box. Her fingers swept gingerly over the rough wood. Did she dare open it? Her hands clasped the lid and slowly lifted upward. Nancy drew in her breath as she saw what was inside. A beautiful conch shell lay nestled at the bottom of the box.
A vivid memory came flying back to her. Suddenly Nancy was a five year old, walking at Hanson beach, staring admiringly up at her Grandmother with devoted love. Her Grandma had a young look about her that Nancy had never seen before. Her name was Hillary; it seemed to fit her, the little girl had thought, while looking at her Grandma’s round blue eyes, gray bouncy curls and rosy cheeks. Her Grandma leaned over and picked up a big shell and handed it to Nancy. “This is a conch shell when you put it to your ear you can hear the ocean,” she had said.
Back in her room, Nancy carefully picked up the shell and put it to her ear. It did sound like the roar of the ocean. Nancy ran her hands over the shell’s rough grooves. Inside it was shiny pink and twirled around like the inside of a human’s ear. Nancy dipped her nose toward the pearly pink inside of the shell. It seemed to smell like her Grandma’s perfume mixed with the salty smell of the ocean.
Why had her grandmother given this to her as her last present? She twisted her hands together and tried to think. Gingerly she turned the shell over in her hands repeatedly. Soon Nancy came to a conclusion; this was the conch shell she and her Grandma had found on Hanson beach. The answer hit her like a punch to the chest. Tears of happiness and sadness poured down her cheeks. This was her grandma’s goodbye present to her, a souvenir of a memory they had shared together.
THE END
Third prize:
Pickles
By Rebecca G., age 11
I’m pretty sure my parents wrote the manual on how to NOT raise your child. From the name, to the food, to the car, everything is just . . . wrong! I know they mean well, but all they do is completely ruin my social image. And it’s because of my parents that my middle school life will be ruined. It’s only the first day of middle school but I know, after The Moment, well, let’s just say I'll be at the lower end of the popular list.
“Ahem,” a well dressed lady says loudly. Oh no.
“My name is Miss Blackwell. I will now take attendance.” I listen, scared.
“Madeline Laker,” Miss Blackwell barks out.
“Here.”
Here it comes.
“Pickle Leonard.” The class erupts in laughter.
“Is this some kind of joke Mr. Leonard?”
“No. It’s my real name.” I hide my head. Miss Blackwell raises her eyebrows and continues.
When the bell rings for lunch, I sigh. Lunch is another obstacle in surviving middle school. My parents always pack my lunch and any money I get gets spent right away. And if I don’t eat, after school I’m hungry and my parents get all concerned. So in short I have to eat the lunch my parents pack for me.
And their lunch is gross lunch. They just don’t understand real food. Like if I ask for Fruit Roll Ups they take rice paper and fruit and they stick the fruit on the rice paper with peanut butter. Then they roll up the rice paper with the fruit still on it.
I find an empty table at the back of the room and sit down. As I open my lunch, a girl sits down at my table.
“You’re Pickle, right?”
“Yes.”
“Is your middle name Dill?” I get this a lot, but this girl seems sincere.
“No its Orion.” I start picking at my lunch- a sardine sandwich, onions, and a “fruit roll up.”
“How did they pick your name?”
“The last thing my mom ate before she gave birth were pickles.”
“Oh. My name’s Nalia. I have to go back to my friends now. We were curious about your name.” Nalia leaves and my heart sinks. I thought she was nice.
When the bell rings for the end of school I brace myself for interrogation. From my parents of course. And the usually chatter and arguments about what to name my little-soon-to-be born sister. The first name will be decided on her date of birth but the middle name is going to be picked out before hand. I avoid the crowd of people and walk 3 blocks home. I walk in and hear voices.
“Jenesis!” my mom cries out.
“Silver,” my dad counters.
“Freedom.”
“Mellana.” I groan and sneak upstairs. Without luck.
“Is that you Pickle?” my mom asks.
“Yeah. I have, umm, a lot of homework,” I fib.
“All right.” I continue heading up and lock myself in my room, the only place I can be alone. I actually have no homework tonight, so I pull out the model airplane I’ve been working on.
“Time for bed!” my mom calls up to me. After a delicious dinner of something I couldn’t identify, I hid in my room, undisturbed, drawing. Until now.
“But Mom it’s only 7:30!” I say, glancing at my clock.
“Yes and you have to wake up at 7:30 tomorrow so set your alarm clock Pickle.”
“7:30! But school starts at 9 and we live 3 blocks away,” I protest.
“Good night Pickle,” my mom says more firmly. I make a face when my mom’s back is turned, but get into my pajamas anyway.
"Say good night to your sister,” my mom says. I awkwardly stroke my mom’s stomach. My mom tucks me in, kisses me, and sings me a goodnight song. Yes I’m in 6th grade.
After she left, I turned on my lamp and took out my notebook. I started designing my dream parents. At 10, the time my dream parents would put me to bed, I turn off my lamp, switch my alarm so it will go off at 8, and take a trip to dream world.
THE END
Fourth Prize
The Rainbow
By Karsyn L., age 12
Once there was a little girl named Meg and she loved to play in the puddles after it rained. It was her absolute favorite thing to do. She would put on her light pink rain coat and shiny galoshes then dash outside to splash in the muddy puddles. She was never alone because her dog, Kit, loved to play in the puddles also. One day while Meg was playing in a puddle a rainbow began to form at her feet. She froze in shock as it grew. It grew high into the sky, growing taller than anything she had ever seen before. Many beautiful colors soared through the cloudy sky.
Curiously, Meg began to climb up the rainbow and Kit reluctantly followed. Soon, she could see the neighbor’s backyard and in no time at all she was high enough to see her whole neighborhood, but she hadn’t reached the top yet. They hiked up the rainbow until they reached the very tip top. And when they reached the top, it was magnificent! The houses looked like dollhouses and the people looked as small as ants. Meg wondered if the people below could see her all the way up there. She didn’t care though. She was tired so she sat down and let her feet dangle off the edge. A soft breeze floated by her legs as it drifted under the rainbow. Kit must have been tired too because when he lied down next to Meg he let out a big sigh.
For a long time, Meg and Kit just sat there, silently, enjoying the view. Meg stroked Kit’s soft black coat and Kit would watch the cars and people down below. A few birds flew right over their heads and Kit would occasionally bark at them. Meg noticed the sky had become a shade of orange which meant it was getting late and dinner would be ready soon, so she started back down the rainbow, only this time she was sliding down it. Kit wasn’t too fond of the idea but followed Meg like a loyal friend. Once they both reached the bottom, the rainbow began to slowly disappear, fading into thin air with only parts of the colors still remaining. Meg and Kit went inside to have dinner but Meg never told her mom or dad about the rainbow. She figured it was her and Kit’s secret. Meg went to bed that night, hoping that tomorrow would bring her another rainstorm, and hopefully, another rainbow.
THE END
Honorable Mentions
Sonya’s Story by Azaria H.
Hero-Girl by Kylie H.
The Old Script by Anne K.
Sugar Maple Lane by Simone L.
Devilish Little Angel by Maria R.
Blue by Alyson W.
A Day with Nature by Kelly Z.
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Wednesday, September 7, 2011 at 09:37AM 
