Home     About    Books    Authors    Services    Competitions    Submissions    Contact
 

NOTES:

YOUNG WRITERS' SHORT STORY COMPETITION 2008/2009
HIGHLY COMMENDED

Please note: this work is copyright by the author and may not be used, copied or shared in any way whatso-ever without his/her express written permission. If you wish to be put in contact with this author, please contact us.

This story text appears exactly as sent in by the writer. No changes or corrections have been made; however, all stories to be included in the published Anthology will be edited for grammar and punctuation before printing.

.

"Mandy"

by Stephanie Higgins (11 yrs) - Burnham, Buckinghamshire, UK
(Ages given are at time of entering the competition)
 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Stephanie Higgins is now twelve years old. She lives in Burnham, Buckinghamshire. Since she was little she has always loved books and spends a lot of time reading, which is why she enjoys writing so much. Stephanie says, "It’s the one way you can escape to anotherworld and be a different person." Her favourite genre is historical fiction because it’s really interesting, you can learn about history and it includes lots of description. Stephanie was inspired to write My Heart will not be shattered by the events she read about what happened on The Night of Broken Glass. Her other interests are being with friends, shopping, listening to music on her ipod, singing, netball, cricket, and collecting miniatures for her doll’s house. One of Stephanie’s aspirations is to publish a novel and write stories for others to enjoy.

COMMENTS FROM JUDGES:

Well written overall, a good take on a common premise. Excellent start with strong writing and hook, powerful phrasing and vivid description, and your main story carries forward well, but your weakest point is your ending. You need to deliver a punchline (as you do here), but the end does need to be well rounded so that the reader goes away satisfied that the story is whole and complete (even if you leave plenty room for their own imagination, there must be no floundering in the reader's mind). A good style and passion throughout, but the ending was a bit vague and without purpose, leaving the reader without proper closure.
 

THE STORY:

I had not seen weather like it since the day I first set eyes on Mandy as a child.

The air back then had been laden with fog too, providing a silvery white cloak of icy fingers that offered protection and concealment to the village of Trelawnly from the outside world.

In the white snow, the place looked eerily different. I turned abruptly to look at the trail of footprints I had left in the fresh snow. Clearly, I was the only one who was out so early. For a moment I began to feel dreadfully alone in the silence that snow always brings with it. Too silent for my liking.

As I approached the grandiose gates I could just make out the inscription weaved in spiralling letters across the gates: ‘Welcome to Trelawnly Village, your local friendly neighbourhood.’  However, I felt anything but welcomed as I stood there in disturbing uncertainty.

I trudged along the main street of the village, which I had strolled along with Mandy and a few other friends.

When I had set out, I’d been sure that I would be relieved and even pleased to return to the village I had yearned for so much in the years I’d been gone. Nevertheless at every familiar sight I winced painfully as if it were giving me physical pain.

I mustered the courage to carry on but with every step I took, the suffocating smog seemed to close in around my heart, sending a series of spiralling shudders down my spine.

There was one house, which stood out from all the rest in my mind. The reason I had returned after so many years. So many questions floated around in my head, making me quite dizzy in contemplation at times.

The crunch of my feet on the powdery snow made me jump.

“No,” I breathed.

The words bounced off the stonewalls enclosing the grounds, echoing around me.

Before me was Mandy’s house yet it wasn’t Mandy’s house at all. It was nothing like it used to be. I sat down and observed my surroundings. The house was surrounded by gardens, which were once alive with bright flowers and delicious fruits, tended by the gardeners. I pictured the gardens I had known and then stared dismally at the vast undergrowth of tangled weeds and dead plants slowly decaying that was there.

I approached the imposing ink black gates. Pale fingers shaking I fumbled for the key that hung round my neck. As I caressed the silky pink ribbon, it glinted in the pale light of dawn. It was iced over in a spidery film of frost so that the engraving of Mandy’s name was hidden, but I knew it was there.

“What if I’ve been wrong all these years? What if the key doesn’t fit?” I thought nervously as I pressed the key into the rusty lock. Yet sure enough I heard the chink of the key turning as smoothly as if it was new.

The stiff gates opened with a creak and I began to wonder if I really was doing the right thing.

For a moment I threw back my golden mass of short curls and closed my eyes. Then I sighed and a whole treasure trove of memories came flooding back to me…

There was something about Mandy that had made me want to stop and stare at her as she emerged out of the suffocating mist all those years ago. Her long brown plaits swinging gracefully round her body and a glint in her wide hazel eyes.

You might say she was no different to the rest of us girls. She dressed the same way as everyone else and she wasn’t enviously beautiful, just attractive in her own unique way.

The one thing that had always puzzled me was the way she always seemed to be wrapped up in herself, so peaceful and composed. You could tell that at one glance, just sensing that being her best friend would be the best thing that could ever happen.

Mandy wasn’t unfriendly- it wasn’t that at all. She was always kind to me, and to all the other girls. Often we would sit chatting on the school steps together, yet in spite of whatever I tried to do she would not say, “I’ll be your best friend.”

I would not give up though and was quite unashamed in my search for Mandy’s committed friendship.

In lessons I would write notes in my books or scribble amusing pictures of the teacher Miss. Hazel or us. Mandy would just smile and nod at the teacher, never answering in any other way.

I remember one time when I rushed to school excitedly; proudly carrying a ticket to the dance show I was to perform in. My parents had given in to buying it so Mandy could come and watch me in the show. I knew that she was a fan of fancy dress and that was what the audience were supposed to wear.

“Mandy, Mandy!” I shouted down the lane as I walked to school. She waved and waited for me as I tore down the street.

“Hi Lily,” she greeted me.

“Here,” I said, handing her an invitation and ticket.

She looked at it curiously for a few seconds.

“You will come, won’t you? It will be fun.”

Mandy looked at me apologetically.

“I’m so sorry Lily, I’d love to come but I’m coming home on the ferry. I don’t know if we’ll be home in time.”

My heart sunk. I’d really wanted Mandy to come and see me dance; I’d practiced so hard.

“Maybe you could…” I faltered, “Ring me up or try and convince your parents to leave early. They can come too if they like. You can even come into the wings to see me.”

She looked me so hard that I could almost feel her unnerving gaze on me as I turned away. Glancing back at the ticket she said, “I’ll try, I’ll try my best to come.”

The day of the dance show came and I put on my pink glittery dress with my hair up in a bun with some loose ringlets cascading down my made up face. I still clung on to the hope that Mandy would be there, in the audience. She had said she would try her best. So I had to try my best for her too.

Once out there, I danced with the most enthusiasm I’d ever had, making it my best performance with every move polished most excellently. The music entranced me, beating rhythmically in my ears.

Afterwards I waited in the wings, in the hope that Mandy would come and visit.

Whilst peering at myself in the shiny mirror, I heard soft footsteps. I spun around at once.

“Mandy?” I whispered tentatively.

Instead of the girl I had been keeping my eyes peeled for, a dragon entered into the dressing room. I knew it was Mandy. The large elaborate mask was made of vivid coloured tissue paper of all shades and was decorated vibrantly, so you would hardly guess who was under there.

“Mandy! Did you like the show?” I cried.

“Oh, it was brilliant Lily, you were wonderful. Listen Lily. I need to tell you something. You’ve asked and asked me to be your best friend.” She hesitated. I clasped my hands tensely. Was she finally going to say the words, the words that I had been waiting for? It would make it all worth it if she did.

“I never answered you,” she carried on, “But I would have loved to be your best friend. Truly, I would have done. Promise me Lily, that regardless of what happens you’ll remember that.”

My heart warmed at the pleading look on her face. I was so overjoyed yet I was just standing there gawping, like a gormless sheep.

Mandy reached for the ribbon that always dangled from her slender neck.

“Close your eyes,” she told me and sneaked round my back. I felt the coldness of something metal as she fastened the ribbon round my neck.

“I want you to have it, as a symbol of our friendship,” she said.

I opened my eyes and saw that tied to the end of the ribbon was a patterned key with Mandy’s name intertwined into the metal.

“ I can’t take it from you,” I stammered, “I mean it even has your name on it and everything.”

“I don’t need it but someday I will show you what it means if you just come back…” she started, and then my mother came and said it was time to get out of my costume. So she led Mandy out, leaving me with the key, pondering about what she meant: ‘if you just come back…’

I couldn’t wait for my first day as Mandy’s best friend and hurried to school as swiftly as I could. Sitting down at my desk I tried to spot Mandy amongst the tidal wave of children pouring into class. My bags were on top of the desk next to me, saving the place for Mandy.

Mandy was never late and when the teacher came in I was very puzzled. Then as I looked at Miss Hazel I saw that she had tearstains on her cheeks and she was sniffing, her eyes welling up with tears. What was the matter? The chattering class fell silent and fixed their eyes on Miss Hazel.

“Children,” she began. “I have some very tragic news for you. Mandy Hillshot will not be joining us again.” She stopped and blew her nose in a handkerchief. My body was wrought with fear. Whatever did she mean? Had my ears been playing tricks on me? No. Everyone had turned to look at the desk next to me. My heart froze and I sat rigidly, listening intently. I didn’t want to hear what Miss Hazel had to say. Mandy was dead, I knew it.

“Unfortunately, whilst travelling back form holiday, Mandy’s ferry sunk. She and her family are thought to be dead even though there are no bodies yet. They would have gone down at about 4’o clock.”

I stifled a cry of disbelief. Mandy had been at my dance show at 6’o clock. It couldn’t be true. Miss Hazel must have got it wrong. Unless… I looked down at the key around my neck. Her words came back to me: ‘I would have loved to be your best friend. Promise me Lily that regardless of what happens you’ll remember that.’

Mandy had said that she didn’t need the key anymore and she had been right. All around me people had burst into fits of sobs but I just sat there in shock, listening to the sound of the irregular beat of my heart.

Taking the key from Mandy, I had promised to go back so she could show me what it meant.

Up till now I had never been brave enough to carry out her wishes. Someone had to enter the house even if the owner, Mandy’s cousin wouldn’t.

I reached for the key again, squeezing it in my sweaty palms. All I had to do was open the door to Mandy’s house and I would have fulfilled my promise.

Slowly, my heart beating frantically I turned it in the lock. Pushing open the door, I stood outside for a few seconds, unable to take in what I had just done.

 It was very uncanny and sent shivers down my back. Suddenly, I heard light footsteps from behind me. Thud, thud, thud. Nothing.

“They must have been coming form behind me,” I thought, “I was imagining them,” I tried to fool myself. Yet they sounded too real to have come out of my head. The stillness was intimidating, as if it would always be like that, frozen in time.

Then I heard the sound of calm, quite breathing like that of a mouse. I spun round abruptly.

“No, it can’t be true…”
 

Copyright (c) 2009 by Stephanie Higgins - do not reproduce
without the author's written permission!

Back to Results Page