Creative Writing Challenge 2020 winners announced

I have been thinking how the new restrictions could affect traditional stories. I decided to re-write the Three Little Pigs.

Because of the Coronavirus the Three Little Pigs have to move away to self- isolate. As building materials are hard to get, two of the pigs use straw and sticks instead. Pig number three was lucky as he had a builder friend who gave him some leftover bricks and cement.

Unfortunately they weren’t exactly what pig three wanted so the home he built was a bit strange looking. The wolf is also self-isolating. To protect himself he wears a face mask and gloves. He has a problem with the gloves as his sharp claws keep poking through them. He has been exercising by hunting and chasing other animals. Because of the mask the other animals don’t recognise him but because of social distancing they still run away! His mask makes his voice go muffled and quiet. When he asks the first little pig, “little pig, little pig, can I come in?” The pig hears “little pig, little pig, can I have gin?” The pig gently pushes a big bottle of gin onto the doorstep. Mr Wolf guzzles it down not realising it’s alcohol. The result is a drunken wolf!

He staggers to the next pig’s house. “Little pig, little pig, can I come in?” This pig hears “little pig, little pig, can I have a bin?” The pig carefully pushes a big bin onto the doorstep maintaining his distance. Mr Wolf, feeling very sick, throws up in the bin and goes to find somewhere to sleep. Poor pig two - some present to clean up!

The wolf wakes with a start. Two policemen are standing right in front of him. As the wolf stands up the police explain that he is not allowed to sunbath or sleep in public places. They move Mr Wolf on. The wolf slowly makes his way to pig number three’s house (which looks a bit funny). “Little pig, little pig, can I come in?” The pig hears “little pig, little pig, can I win?” The pig kindly throws a trophy out of the window. Mr Wolf was watching for the door to open and didn’t see the trophy being flung out of the window. It lands on top of his head and he is knocked out. As he lays in the road, he is spotted by the same policemen. They take the wolf and lock him up!

Today’s restrictions are affecting us all - let’s hope they soon end.

When the streets became empty,
Everybody noticed the queues getting longer and longer,
The empty shelves getting barer and barer,
The key workers getting busier and busier,
But nobody noticed the verge!
I noticed the verge I saw the grass growing taller and taller,
I saw the daisies and the dandelions growing bigger and bigger,
I saw the weeds sprouting and sprouting,
The verge was now a forest!

They say once you have mastered being alone, you are ready for the company of others, that doesn't make it easy though when everyone's life separated from my own when the only heart beating in this house belongs to me. It wasn't something most could take. For there are days when the brain becomes a cold fire, perhaps that is what others call panic, but when you are alone, who are you going to call?

I guess the good news is that in time, after many unpleasant days you are ok. Then you find joy again or joy finds you. After that, your journey can change, take on new and exciting adventures... I wish I could wave a magic wand for those who are alone, but there are some things you must learn the hard way, my dear.

These brick walls have been my cocoon for the time I needed their sanctuary, and I thank them. My eyes gaze across their rosy colour, bright yet earthen. My hands feel the warmth of the sun, imparted to them yet given back with a steady determination. Leaving home was never going to be easy, yet I take these emotions with me, these memories of comfort and joy.

Though the street hadn't heard laughter for a while, there was still the street lamps stubbornly standing into the sunlight, it was as if they simply love to share that amber glow, regardless of if anyone admired it. Under their steady watch, the cream brickwork brought nostalgic feeling; notions of kids in their streets.

The road itself had that well-loved appearance, the traffic of decades having passed over it. This was the street where real life had been, the turning of skipping ropes and joyous shrieks of children.

Been buying cigarettes and hair dye,
My fake smiles say that I am fine,
Can only see my friends online,
Just wanna break down, break down and cry.

There are voices in my head,
Trying to ignore what they said,
They are telling me to go,
But I shouldn’t though.

It’s either save my sanity,
Or the whole of humanity.
I don't have a choice,
So go away voice.

They tell us they will sort it out,
But I still have my doubt.
I’m gonna scream and gonna shout,
And I’m still left freaking out.

Been buying cigarettes and hair dye,
My fake smiles say that I am fine,
Can only see my friends online,
Just wanna break down, break down and cry.

Just wanna break all the rules,
I miss my family and my school,
And I’m losing my cool,
This burden is really cruel.

Leave me alone,
I’ve got to stay home,
I’ve got to do my best,
To save the NHS.

Only allowed one walk a day,
Gotta stay 2 metres away,
I don’t have a choice,
So go away voice.

They tell us they will sort it out,
But I still have my doubt,
I’m gonna scream and gonna shout,
And I’m still left freaking out.

Been buying cigarettes and hair dye,
My fake smiles say that I am fine,
Can only see my friends online,
Just wanna break down, break down and cry.

Just wanna break all the rules,
I miss my family and my school,
And I’m losing my cool,
This burden is really cruel.

Going crazy inside,
Trying to keep my pride,
Going crazy inside,
Trying to keep my pride,
Going crazy inside,
Trying to keep my pride,
Going crazy inside,
Going crazy.

Been buying cigarettes and hair dye,
My fake smiles say that I am fine,
Can only see my friends online,
Just wanna break down, break down and cry.

Just wanna break all the rules,
I miss my family and my school,
And I’m losing my cool,
This burden is really cruel.

Been buying cigarettes and hair dye,
My fake smiles say that I am fine,
Can only see my friends online,
Just wanna break down, break down and cry.

Cigarettes and hair dye,
Cigarettes and hair dye,
Cigarettes and hair dye,
Cigarettes and hair dye.

The silence was deafening, the howling wind rampaged past my ears with the screams of the ones suffering. The wind held only for a moment but one that felt like an eternity. And in that second it was like time stopped. My brazen, dry hair resting upon my broad shoulders before jumping to dance at the winds cries.

My piercing moss like eyes felt like rocks weighing me down, my lips flaked, dry with cuts scrapped all over the surface. The cold a bullet, resonating around my body, shaking me to the core almost as if my soul had frozen.

The lampposts a melancholy orange gazing over me in judgment. Like a million eyes all in disgust despite my desolate surroundings.

The sound of my footsteps were a giants, the ground almost seemed to shake, the sound like clockwork never irregular like they belonged to a robot. The wind suddenly screaming and falling to nothingness.

The only warning of its ambush being the huddled bags clinging to each other in fear as they rustled pleading as the wind hastily returned. It was like a warning to stay away, to hide away where it can’t find me. The icy chills in the wind butchering my eyes as the left flooded itself, the atmosphere alone enough to make someone lose all sanity.

But weirdly this is my happy place, the only place my emotions bubble to the surface. The only place I can be myself, feel safe and free. The wind seems the only truth, telling me the world has fallen to grey.

The feeling of time stopping being the only time I relax, the only time it feels like the walls are not racing to close in on me. Stuffing me into a corner.

My hair dancing in the wind like fairies as fireflies greet them reminding me the wind is but a sweet song. The bitter cold like frost bite to the soul reminding me the flame I call a heart still beats and still holds hope.

The sound of my boots hitting the ground reminding me I’m alive and still have the strength to go forward. The wind that’s like a devils whisper is a kindness singing you a song that tells you every step means something.

The lampposts that seem a million judgmental eyes. A million voices telling me I can carry on if I just don’t give up. The bags huddling together telling one another it’s ok it will be over soon I’ve got you as they let out a warning.

All of this seemed sinister at first glance but not judging a book by its cover, it’s the only place I feel safe and I know I can trust the whispers of nature even when they bring despair

A blessing disguised as a monster.

I, like most teenagers my age, hate the news and I am very happy that I missed it last night because I was at Jackson’s (he’s my best friend and I totally don’t have a crush on him).

My mum always insists on watching the news when we are eating dinner and it is always on the same pink, stripy tray. I hate pink. And stripes. I heard Mum shout for me. I assumed it was for dinner, so I grudgingly stomped down the stairs, knowing I had to watch the news. However, instead of being met by my fish fingers and chips, there, standing in front of the TV, was an extraordinarily tall man in an extraordinarily ill-fitting black suit. He looked as if he meant business so I stopped myself from commenting on his terrible fashion taste, which was surprisingly difficult to do and required a lot of will power.

Mum looked at me and signalled for me to sit down, so I slumped down onto the sofa next to her. “Please have a seat,” said mum to the strange man, motioning to the chair in front of us with a shaky hand. He nodded his head and sat down. As he did, his jacket moved to the side, revealing a gun hidden away in its holster. I looked at mum with wide eyes; if she had noticed it, she was keeping it quiet. “I am Inspector John Roberts,” said the man, pulling out his badge from his inside pocket and holding it briefly in front of him. “I am working with the CDC to try contain a deadly virus that was caused by an accident in our main lab. This virus is exceedingly contagious and has killed over 20,000 in the last week. The Prime Minister is informing the public about this as we speak; from 7:00 tonight nobody is allowed to leave their house. We are in lockdown.”

Me and mum looked at each other, stunned and silent. I didn’t really know what to say, so I focused on the blank TV in the corner of the room. I could see the reflection of us both sitting in the exact same position with the exact same expression painted on our faces. I moved my gaze to the vase sitting on the mantelpiece. It had a considerable crack down the front from where me and Jackson had been playing catch with a hockey ball. Mum was so angry when she found out. I smiled and zoned back into the room.

Having let this recent information sink in, Inspector Roberts continued talking. “The virus affects people by making them bloodthirsty and inhumane, resembling a rabid animal,” he said, looking at mum. “My team thought, with your expertise, you could help us to find a cure.” “I... I don’t know Inspector. I haven’t dealt with anything on this scale before,” mum replied, looking down, upset that she couldn’t help. “Dr. Smith, no one has.” After a few moments of consideration she looked up with a serious look on her face. “When do I start?” “Immediately.

There is a car outside to escort you and your daughter to our main facility where you will have everything you need.” And here I am, in a car with my mum and the Inspector. We are driving through the empty streets- not a person in sight. Shops, pubs, houses, everything is dark and lifeless. There isn’t even a bird chirping in the sky, as if even the animals know something’s wrong.

It’s a ghost town.

Contagion, rages across the globe,
Infection crawls, spreads, creaks, cries, and grows,
A plague of uncertainty has shrouded not just the world,
But the home: where all those who abide, reside.

Once where comforts kept us sane
Many now consider it changed and not the same,
A home has become a prison of thought and contemplation
For others, a world of creation and novel narration,
Has enlightened and brightened their shrivelled world.

Conspiracy, secrecy, and a whole lot of stubborn indecency,
Has clashed with sensibility, scientific frequency,
And sense of the most common form.

In the real world, mothers fear and ride off to work and fathers do the same,
Holding back the tears of their first-born,
Reaching for the door, just to realise,
The raging war that lays beyond.

Nurses, doctors and more,
Battle their way through thick, thin and gore.
For those of us that were unlucky enough to be caught up in this crazy goddamn storm.

This morbid, brittle beast.
It has consumed us all.
Invisible, compulsive deceiver.
Hijacker of bodies.
Hitchhiking infection that knows no better than to spread without limit.

You cannot blame this assortment of proteins and DNA for playing with us like a game,
But only can we observe the destructive path that it lays, for days and days without end.

It is not aware,
Nor is it telling anyone to beware,
And it is certainly spreading without a single care.
It is unconscious.
A ghoul so unaware,

Many only point fingers,
Frame and claim that all the world leaders sought to hide,
Not rise to the occasion with pride,
Making us abide this ride without a solid stride in their plan to revive and fix the broken riptide that sucked the whole world dry.

Drop the politics, the trivialisation of COVID-19 figures, and the Facebook viral lies,
Listen to science, respect those of us who listen, and calm your weary minds.
All you have to do is wait,
No guns, bullets, famine or more.
Just wait, without falling for the bait of the 5G complaint,
Just simply wait.

I’m done with rhyming - it can only capture so much of what lies behind - and I’m sure you’ve had enough too, so please forgive if I unknowingly continue to rhyme with a certain obnoxious chime.
Closer to home, the lockdown has shattered me piece by piece, I’ll admit it, maybe it has you too.
It’s hard, and as my creativity falters, I yearn to simply go outside.
But we can’t, and we won’t - I won’t.

My mind, spinning, and all I see, are the comments agreeing.
Please, please, please, see the light in these darkened times, for even I, am struggling.
Not even my modern comforts can keep my worried mind raised above the situation of the times.

But, we are okay.
You’re okay.
I’m okay.
Just for now, we wait.
Chaotic times.
We all know it.

I hope that if you are struggling, you can find solace in the little adventures to be found in every room, crack, and corner of your home.
Every slice of paper is a new story to be read; every quiet space is opportune for new music to shake one’s head; all absence of conversation is ideal for self-realisation and growth; and yet, you don’t even have to be productive at all.

Enjoy what you can, and appreciate what you have, for this will all be over, with new perspectives and smiles to share with friends and family.
Waiting is hard when sanity appears to be so far.
When a tree shrivels for the winter, it comes back in the spring greener, healthier, and ever more beautiful than before.
Brilliant minds are at work.
Stay strong.

A sky left empty,
Without the stains of dirty frowns,
Causing me to question: When was it last this blue?
I see behind those scattered clouds.

Where metal creatures flew.
Now fallen silent and stain free,
Swapped for the fluttered flow of leaves,
With a spoonful of the sparrow and murmurs of the bees.

Road rage turns to internet anger,
As families flourish virtually.
Or quiz away the hours,
Drinking cups of Tetley tea.

Enjoy each evening meal time,
But don’t feed the dog those crumbs!
A fridge door closes loudly,
Blended with the boilers hum.

I finally see the silence,
For a while it has been hid,
Notice now the taps drip,
The computers fizz, the rusty dustbin lid.

Contemplate a daily walk,
Let mowers graze on winters grasses,
Blow dust off the old swing-ball,
And throw on your sunglasses.

The shuffle of your slippers, having ‘forgotten’ to get dressed,
Pots and pans clatter,
Bowls become drums,
For the ears of NHS.

Find comfort in those card games,
Make a fort from an apple tree and sheet,
The whir of her white sewing machine,
Making bunting for the street.

Stars I’ve never seen before,
Through patio glass smeared with flies,
Is that the smell of neighbours’ sparklers,
Floating into darker skies?

A book you have the time for now,
But you’ve fallen for the bait!
Caught in a Net-flix,
And now, somehow from reality you’ve departed,
A daily dose of episodes you wish you hadn’t started.

A change is needed,
For this ignorance is acidic,
Stop acting like you know the stats,
When Twitter chats are how you’ve been scientific.

Take a moment (or two),
You’ve got the time,
As it’s no longer a thing.
Support those who are key,
And working endlessly,
By simply staying in.

It was the first day that rain seeped down my window since I began staring at it. Its empty shape and carcass colours, ridden with the heat and the sun and the numbers that I switched my phone off for.

I couldn’t bear the numbers. But the rain seemed to help. That offbeat clap like muted dynamite and choked whispers cladded my thoughts as I dreamt vacant dreams and closed my eyes only to only see the backs of them.

I attempt to refamiliarise with the four walls that I embrace with a safety and gratitude that runs new in my mind, and I dress in clothes that feel warm, with soft fabric and comforting memories of moments spent outside these walls, feeling the rain soak into my hair and engross those clothes.

I flick through old photos and strum against instruments eroded with dust, and search thoughts that I had forgotten stain the corners of boredom. I rethink regrets. I rethink barren hopes. Abandoned smiles. Brown eyes. Kind voices.

Taking the bus and watching the sunken sky and the rioted lights of night time Southend encased around the window of the train, while the rain swam down the glass as the carriage heaved with a mechanical roar.

I miss the noises that embellished the silence. And the voices of people I did not know. My reflection in the window looks different to the one I understood. Disfigured by rain. No longer sly with her words and plagued with the anxiety of others. Open and raw. Not lonely, but alone.

All this time I will spend with her I will finally come to realise who she is. I will see past the refractions of light and the water marks and uncover the vulnerabilities and talents and things she finds funny and her terrible taste in music.

I will understand my own reflection beyond the window and the rain that disfigures her. I will fall in love with her again. When the streets fell empty and the numbers grew and the fear overwhelmed, there were moments between the rainy days and the sunny days. Moments to think. Moments to understand. Moments to breath.

The slur of rain would soon dry out and reveal the warmth of tomorrow that had waited just for us. For seaside smiles. For brown eyes. For kind voices. For bus rides. For train rides.

It waited for us to heal again. A nation abandoned by hope. A world subsided. And in the small gaps between the chaos, the silence burrowed in the noise, the empty rooms in a crowded house, I sat looking from a rain stained window. Not healing wounds but scars. Not lonely, but alone. Thinking. Knowing. Dreaming. A space dug out by time to plant something I didn’t realise I needed.

Time.

Paused.
The world has pressed pause, so we wait, breathless, (some oh so breathless), for play.
We are suspended.
Inanimate.
Waiting.
Between our breaths we count, under our breaths.
This game of musical statues makes our muscles ache because the music will not start, the needle is just clicking in its groove like a metronome ticking off empty days.
First the power flicked off and now the screen has gone blue.
We cannot reach each other.
Cannot touch - we are little bubbles of self.
We float.
We stray, weightless in ether.
Our pixels are disconnected patterns of nothing.
We are lost.
We count our money.
Count our chickens.
Count on being paid or not.
And still that moving finger isn’t writing as it hovers endlessly over play and we are frozen, glued in amber, trapped under ice.
Our little fish mouths pursing kisses at the glass.
Breathless kisses.
So many breathless and unbreathing now.
They are beyond the help of unpausing.
Beyond any help: not reachable by anything but memory stored in freeze frames, the clips we have kept, that seemed nothing then and cannot be resumed.
So, we wait for the stuttering arrival of something else… of normal… whatever that turns out to be.

Lonely Footsteps,
Clomp, clomp, clomp,
My footsteps echo against the pavement,
My tattered clothes cling to my body,
A half-empty wine bottle adorns my nicotine-stained hand I cut a lonesome figure,
As I wander down this empty street.

A light amber sun sets against a blue sky tinged with pink,
It spreads a warmth,
I do not feel I relate instead with the chilling evening breeze,
Which beckons the approaching night,
The darkness,
The shadows.

This street was once a hive of activity,
People hustled and bustled past me,
Carrying on with their busy lives,
Some barely noticed me,
Some wilfully ignored me,
Some spat in my face.

They all had more important matters to contend with,
Now they are all gone,
Frightened away by the unseen entity I’ve heard mutterings,
Whispers, rumours of the virus,
Engulfing the world and leaving devastation in its wake.

The politicians,
The media,
The doctors,
They say the same thing,
Stay at home,
If only I had a home to go to.

As I drift down this street,
So familiar yet so strange I walk past the houses,
So inviting,
But nothing I can call mine.

Over the fences in people’s gardens I hear chattering laughter voices of families and friends,
Pulling together in the midst of the crisis,
United in isolation,
No such unity for me.

If the virus gets me, it wouldn’t be so bad,
Maybe I’ll be reunited with my parents,
Perhaps we’ll share a hospital ward,
Or lie side by side in the graveyard.

I only hope they don’t shout at me this time,
Since that’s what set me off on my current journey,
Wherever the virus takes me, it must be better than where I am now,
My lonely footsteps have led me down a weary path,
Clomp, clomp, clomp.

A silent breeze has come our way, that takes away all hope,
It cascades a blanket of invisible inevitability, like a hangman’s rope,
Then like an air raid siren that broke, had wailed,
The people in all the streets curtailed!
A silence of ensuing death was coming,
You could hear the noise of human minds a’ humming.

Oh empty streets
Enough’s enough!
Oh empty streets,
We have suffered the rough,

‘Tis the will of the virus,
Where, what, when and why?
The birds flew high up into the sky,
Until confident of their new found life,
As all the people in danger is their strife.
The sun shines radiant for no ones’ delight,
For fear has damaged, so there is no light.

Oh empty streets,
Enough’s enough!
Oh empty streets, we have suffered the rough,
‘Tis the will of the virus,

But now beholden to government rules,
Lay the window watchers with pens as tools,
They're writing every move and notion,
Of lawbreakers trying out their potions,
The weather changes, but hardly anyone gets wet,
The sound of the clock ticks life by, and yet!

Oh empty streets,
Enough’s enough!
Oh empty streets,
We have suffered the rough,
Tis’ the will of the virus.

For all the dangers that lurk in the plague,
A chosen few must work on parade,
The savers, the workers, the keys to unlock freedom,
Put their lives online so there is no more boredom,
No children’s voices, no pensioner’s laughs,
No family calling, coming up our paths.

Oh empty streets,
Enough’s enough!
Oh empty streets,
We have suffered the rough,
‘Tis the will of the virus.

Time, time is the curer, say the men in the suits,
Stay in, protect, save lives to the tune of a pipers flute,
Resolute, stand tall and strong,
Is where the country will prevail along,
Now is the time as the street’s hearts start pounding,
That we follow the rules and make our life outstanding.

Emily Cohen

Dear Covid 19,

Why are you doing this; why are you destroying people’s lives?

You do realise that you are tearing people down. Please if you do not mind, stop this cruelty immediately.

My first point is people's education is failing and going downhill because we are not at school and it is also a hard time for years 6, 11 and 13 as their last day of school could be because of you. We are being made to stay at home not being able to see our friends and not learning properly: how does that make you feel? This is not a fun game and must be stopped.

Next, innocent people are dying from you. People are depressed thinking that maybe they are next. People's mothers, grandmothers, children and fathers lives are coming to an end and you are making this happen. Why? I think everybody's lives were perfect until you destroyed them so why now: why when everything was perfect. It's not fair that people's relatives can pass away and you won't be able to see them, you won't even be able to say goodbye to them.

In conclusion, I think that you should stop this utter nonsense because of the reasons above. Please choose wisely; you are the only one who can stop this.

Yours sincerely, Emily.

Luke Cohen

Coronavirus Dear Coronavirus,
If you were a word it would be horrible, disgraceful.
If you were a colour it would be brown because no one likes brown.
If you were a song you would be out of tune and people would be throwing eggs at you.
If you were a picture you would be a scribble that was supposed to be a person suffering.
If you were a food you would be brussel sprouts mixed with broccoli pizza.
If you were a painting you would be the scream.
If you were a teacher you would be strict and shouty.
If you were a little sibling you would be selfish, moany and irritating.
If you were a time of the day you would be bedtime because you have to go to sleep.

So basically what I am trying to say is that you are a terrible virus that is very selfish because you want everybody to suffer and live life by your rules. But the question is, are we scared of you? No, we will fight you until you go away! We are much stronger than you, just give up already! We have friends and family and you have no one to help you so you are the one that is isolated!

From your biggest enemy, Luke.

Jacob Cohen

Dear corona virus,

Although I think you are horrible, there are some things that I like about you. I like that school is shorter and easier. I am enjoying playing with my pets, also camping in the log cabin and watching TV with my family. I like bouncing on the trampoline, but I do miss the rest of my family and friends. I miss Liverpool playing at Anfield. I also miss playing football at the park. I liked going swimming, but I don’t do that anymore and I don’t like that so can you stop. I need you to stop. I hate you.

From Jacob.

Annabel Cohen

C raziness, chaos and claustrophobia.
O ver and over and over again.
R uining everyone’s lives making them a misery.
O ver and over and over again.
N asty, new lives and nothing to do.
A nnoying and really aggressive.
V ile, violent and vengeful.
I solation, incurable and incessant.
R uining everyone’s lives making them miserable.
U nstoppable and unfair.
S ly and sneaky.

Johanne Cohen

The world hasn’t stopped,
Nothing has changed,
We’re just living life in a different way,
Our friends are still there,
They’ve not gone away,
But we don’t just bump into them every day,
We just have to think, and then find a way
So we write, call or FaceTime them to check they’re ok,
We’re not rushing round,
We’ve been given the time,
Perhaps the world is just giving a sign,
So we can just breathe and stop for a while,
Then think of some ways to make our friends smile,
We can get back to basics,
Just show that you care!
And when this is over they will all still be there,
The world hasn’t stopped,
Nothing has changed
We’re just appreciating life in a different way.