By writeonteens, 08-Mar-2013 14:16:00
It's been 2 years of Ask-The-Editor with Alison Weiss! Can you believe it?? In celebration of this momentus occasion, Alison is hosting a contest on the forums. All you have to do is answer a question and you'll be entered to win 3 Egmont books of your choice and a tote bag! Need we say more?
We've broken down the entry process for you to make it easier. All you have to do is follow the 3 steps below and you're on your way to winning! Good luck!
2. VISIT THIS THREAD
3. ANSWER ALISON'S QUESTION BY CLICKING "POST REPLY"
Oh, and while you're over there, maybe ask Alison a question?
Note: The forums (and the contest) are for TEENS ONLY! Ages 13-19. Sorry, grownups! Allow us to direct you to Miss Snark's First Victim, our sister site.
By writeonteens, 24-Nov-2012 16:54:00
My legs flail as I wake up with a start. The spiders are back. I gouge at my arms and face. They’re everywhere. Scratch scratch scratch. All over me. Scratch scratch scratch. In my bed. Scratch scratch scratch. I shriek for help. My bedroom door swings open and in flies Katrina. “Emily stop!” She cries out to me. The spiders flow out of me, eyes, ears, nose, mouth. I continue scratching them off of my fragile skin, tears flowing out of my eyes. Katrina grabs my arms tightly and I kick my legs in bed. “Get them off of me!” I wail on her face. “Shh..” She says tenderly, her eyes glassy with tears. My breaths shudder out of me, each one pains me more. “Make them stop,” I plead. “Mom!” She yells, facing the door. “Please,” I squeak. She touches my face softly. “Don't worry Emily, Ill get them off.” She murmurs, tears spilling over her eyelids and dripping onto my mattress. Mom rushes in, covering her mouth at the sight of me. Tiny blades of sweat trickle down my forehead, leaving a path of fear. Kristina lets go of my arms and dashes out of the room. Mom walks over and takes my hand. “It’s all ok honey.” She whispers. Her words glide through my ears, their truth leaving memories in my brain. Kristina’s back now, with towels that she gently pushes on my arms, and Mom dabbing my cheeks. Theres a phone to Kristina's ear, and she talks to an unknown person on the other line. I glance at the towels that are pulled away from my arms, stained red. My eyes flutter closed and I’m once again entrapped my my living hell.
Lights, bright lights. My body’s numb and sore. An even noise. Beep. Beep. Beep. My arms are bandaged and as my fingers trail up my head, I find that my head is too. My eyes focus and find Kristina, sitting in a chair on the far side of the room, sleeping. “Kristina,” I whisper. Her bright green eyes pop open, and stare at me intently. “Wher-” I start. “Your awake,” She says with a sigh of relief and walking over to my side.
“You got the spiders off.” I say, taking her hand and starying at her bright pink fingernails. “Yeah..” She says, trailing off. “Emily, I have something your should know.” “You’re in the Psychiatric Institution,” She says calmly, running her fingers through my hair.
“And there were never any spiders.”
By writeonteens, 24-Nov-2012 16:53:00
In the home of Mrs. Wanda Dawson, clattering teacups echoed from the kitchen. Wanda hastily arranged the teacups and then turned to the whistling kettle. Ghostly steam issued from the spout, and the sound was nearly ear-splitting. But Wanda was not so keen about the howl of the kettle; she was agitated by the time. Three minutes to five, the clock read, but not a single soul from the Elderly Women’s Book Club had arrived. Black tea was a must—and if it was done improperly, Wanda’s immense reputation would come to a screeching halt.
After spilling the murky-black tea a few times, Wanda had finally managed to fill the cups. Each mug looked like a miniature ocean of blackness, rippling as if a shark were looming beneath the surface. Wanda was pleased; the ladies of the book club would be astonished by her work. Lauren would be especially impressed—she was the leader of the club, and the most praised woman in the entire town. Wanda shivered with excitement: she was merely two minutes away from serving time, and she could barely contain her exultance.
Muffled voices sounded from beyond the window. Wanda hurried to the living room, opened the yellow-stained blinds, and peeked through. Mary and Tanya were stalking up the yard, their necks choked with glistening pearls, hands covered with silk gloves.
Wanda slithered to the door, twisted the handle, and gracefully bowed to the women. Mary and Tanya returned the favour before arranging themselves on the crimson couches. It was now five.
“Greetings,” Wanda said with a piercingly high voice.
Mary Crowfoot nodded in reply. “Vere is Chokers?” she asked.
“Oh,” Wanda replied, “dinner last night was a bit rough.”
Mary and Tanya nodded solemnly. “Of course,” Tanya remarked, “cats are always the tough ones. How thoroughly did you cook it? Medium-high?”
Wanda shrugged. “Just about,” she said, and then silence hung over them like misty fog.
The sound of the doorbell sliced the silence. The ladies looked around in anticipation.
“Tonight is a grave night. Do you believe the children have come?” Tanya asked, adjusting her necklace with unease.
“No,” Wanda stated. “Must be Lauren.” She hurried over to the door and opened it to reveal the leader of the Elderly Women’s Book Club.
Lauren hurried in without greeting. “Change of plans. We’re going out.”
“What?” Wanda asked, startled. “Why?”
“Night falls soon.” She stared out the window, and the sky was indeed becoming dark. Children with bags filled with candy roamed the streets cheerfully. They had no idea what was yet to come.
“Fine,” Wanda said, and then hurried to get the tea. The women took eager sips. They looked around wonderingly before the change came upon them. Their charcoal black hair began to elongate into long strands, and their worn faces became youthful. Their dirt-caked nails became clean, and they slowly shrank until they were just four feet off the floor.
“Hurry, girls,” Lauren said, her voice innocent but ominous. “It’s trick-or-treat time.”
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