My Cat Is Evil by Alivia Yates

Cheshire sat on my chair his red-brown eyes glowing as he clawed my chair. I crept closer and something told me he was about to attack but I still reached out to pet my new cat that Aunty grace gave to me, Grace warned me that Cheshire gets crazy if you pet him, but he’s so fuzzy, it’s hard to resist.

I know exactly why his name is Cheshire. He disappears casually and appears at the most awkward times, at the most awkward places, like when you’re going to the bathroom just doing your business and your door opens and he stares when you don’t want him to. He is creepy!

I hadn’t even touched Cheshire but he attacks my face and mum walks in and screams at the sight of blood dripping down my cheek, pain shot into my wound, and just as it was beginning to feel better, Cheshire scratched me in the exact same spot leaping off the chair and vanishing into the kitchen.

Mum treated my cheek and locked Cheshire in the garage for the night, only to find in the morning that there were scratches all over my mums sports car. Poop. Cheshire had not just scratched the car, but he made a hole in the garage door from how he escaped. I told mum what he’d done and she fainted, right at the second she hit the floor Cheshire walked in and did a small evil kitty smile.

My parents had a family meeting at lunch, by family I mean: dad, mum, Shanelle, my big sister, me, Harry, my little brother and Cheshire locked in his evil-proof kitty cage. “Ok, first things first! Cheshire has destroyed your mothers car, made a big hole in the garage door and scratched Libby! Who agrees we should send him back to Aunty Grace?” Said Dad, All of us, but Shanelle raised their hands, “Shanny! Why can’t you agree?!” I yelled, “Because, he’s cute and kind to me!” Shanelle said, she was about to pet Cheshire through the cage but I stepped in to save my sister, “Shanny, don’t touch him! You see my face, yeah it hurts!” Shanelle rolled her eyes and sat back into her chair.

The next morning, Cheshire was missing, but he left a trail of stinky sardines for us so we don’t get lost, we followed the trail to the tree at my best friend’s place with the words ‘keep me’ scratched into the bark, mum fainted again, so we went home, and could you guess who was eating our couch? Yep, the devil cat. “Grrrrrr! You know what?! I’m going to drive over to the pet shop right now and give someone a taste of Cheshire!” Dad shoved Cheshire into his box and drove off to the pet store to sell my evil cat. Actually I wonder what fun dogs are?

For the Love of a Child

Rain struck my neck like needles, the road was slick and inky, but I rode on. I had to get back to my wife, even though I wasn’t expected for two more days. I must have ridden over a thousand kilometres non-stop. My mind was wandering, I don’t even remember when I last stopped, just the constant riding.

We had argued before I left. A baby, she wanted a baby, I didn’t think I was ready, so we had argued and I had left. I had been gone for over a week, and now I needed to get home. I rode hard to get to her, to let her know I loved her, and yes I wanted a baby. It was dark, it seemed like it had been dark forever, but I was close now.

I was home, tired, but home. I climb the stairs to our room, and smiled when I found her waiting at the top of the stairs. She jumps into my arms, tears flowed freely as she holds me. We kiss and gaze into each others eyes, there is no need for any regrets or apologies.

I lift her in my arms and carry her to the bed, we made love, softly and caring, moulding into each other, like nothing could come between us. Exhausted we find sleep, entangled in each others arms, until her phone cries for attention.

She answered with closed eyes, who would call this early she thinks. It was one of the guys that had gone on the ride, he sounds upset, he said he was calling from down south, he said I had had an accident last night, he said I was dead. She sits up quickly, turning to look at the unruffled side of the bed where I should be, and drops the phone. Laying on the pillow is a tiny blue, babies jump-suit, and a small note, ‘Be happy together. I will love you both, always.’

GHOST by Alivia Yates

My hands were shaking, my body was stiff, everything was quiet. It had been 13

days since the last ghost attack, I have been hiding in the basement of my house

for that long, food is running out, the tap water is full of dust and ants. I need to

escape, but the fear in my head is somehow stopping me. Again, the sound of

whispering and floorboards creaking made me feel nervous, the ghost is here, the

ghost of William Morgana, founder of Morgana creek.

The ghost was definitely in my house, I could hear it whispering the same words

over and over, like a broken record. “Lucy!” I hid inside my closet, through the

closed doors I could hear it whispering, the whispering was enough for me, but the

door handle turning was a huge worry. “Lucy!” I closed my eyes tightly, the door

opened, I heard it floating across the wooden floor, oh no, I heard the sound of a

match scraping, then I heard the ghost leave, it smelt weird, like smoke, it was

warm. I leaped out of my closet, landing in front of fire, holy guacamole!

The fire spread, all over the wooden floor, I thought quickly, I filled a cup of water

and spilt it over the fire, but I missed, I took the fire blanket from the cabinet and

covered the roaring flames. Finally the fire was gone, but when I uncovered the

burnt wood, it shined red, like a blood stain.

When I thought the fright was over, I sat down and ate and I got ready to sleep, I

had just laid down when my door opened, no one was there, must’ve been the

wind, I closed it and laid down again, my door opened and my lamp flickered, my

mirror shined red, everything shined red, I screamed and everything went normal

again, my door shut loudly, and my lamp turned off, automatically. The Morgana

ghost hadn’t left yet, I was ready to face the ghost. “Come out William!” I screamed

to my own house, my door opened once again and a little boy dressed in a torn

shirt and muddy trousers walked slowly into my room, he looked guilty, but innocent

at the same time, “Where’s my Mum?” The boy muttered to me, “Answer me!” The

boy faded into an old man with scratches everywhere, on his face, on his arms,

everywhere, then he vanished, without a word. Finally, I was safe, the boy ghost

had disappeared, hopefully.

I slept the night, having nightmares and screaming out to my Mum, who lived in

England. I woke up in a bed of sweat and tears, I was going to take a shower but I

was eager to pack my bags, no more basement life.

I received the key from my drawer to open the door to go upstairs, I opened the

door and walked upstairs and left the basement, for good. Goodbye to the Morgana

ghost, I hope so.