Here are the winning stories and poems from YWA's 2011 Scary Writing Contest. Thank you to all who entered!

FIRST PLACE, 5-8 year olds
“The Mystery of the Goop”
By Hazel Van Ummersen, age 7
Edgewood Elementary
Eugene, OR

One especially scary night on Halloween, Louisa sat up in her tree house that her Dad had built, waiting for it to get dark. When the sky was just about the color of indigo, she went out with her friends trick or treating. When her father had built the tree house, she was six years old. But now she was ten, so she was allowed to go trick or treating with her friends. They went to each house on the block until they came to one especially strange house. Why was it strange? Because it had drapings of cobwebs all over, and there was one teeny spider with lots of hair on its legs. The girls laughed at the spider and said “na na na BOO!”. Then the spider started to grow a little bit bigger, then a little bit bigger, then a little bit bigger… The spider started to crawl towards the girls. Alixe jumped back. The spider stopped right before it touched her. The spider started to shrink into its normal size. The girls hurriedly ran back. Each time they stepped, red disgusting goop made a print on the sidewalk. When they got home, their mother said, “wash your shoes off and then you may come in!” But the goo didn’t come off. This was a little creepy. Louisa started to feel a little wheesy in her stomach. The goo felt sort of like when you touch a slug, or when you stick your hands in the mud. On that scary Halloween night Louisa felt like something was following each red goo foot print causing them to disappear. She had a feeling that it might have been that spider… Something mysterious happened to the other girls. But we don’t know for sure…

SECOND PLACE, 5-8 year olds
“Dark Scary Night”
By Lillyanne Jones, age 7
Twin Oaks Elementary
Eugene, OR

On a dark, scary night,
A brown and white owl up in a twisted tree chasing men.
The evening lizard spits out fire.
The mean, wicked witch with a warty nose flies on her broom
made out of bones,
On a dark, scary night.

THIRD PLACE, 5-8 year olds
“The Secret of Conwy Castle”
By Angelica Miller, age 8
Oak Hill School
Eugene, OR

The winds are whistling, the voices are chattering, in the castle of Conwy.

A boy was standing in the middle of the castle, everything was silent and still.

He started to walk, he heard someone walking behind him, he quick turned around, no one was there, he heard it again, no one was there.

He ran to a chamber and started to hear a clock. “A clock that old can’t still be working,” thought the boy.

He went to the room where he heard the clock. A great big grandfather clock stood right in front of him. Instead of numbers there were different types of bones. At the top of the clock there was a button.

He pressed the button and a secret door opened. He walked slowly into the door. Before him he saw stairs that led to the dungeon.

In the dungeon was a hallway with different doors. Suddenly a key appeared at his feet. He tried all of the doors, none of them opened but the last one, which was the littlest door.

He crawled through the littlest door. On the other side, a girl appeared behind him. She was dressed in rags. “Get out of the castle,” she cried.

The boy began running when all of a sudden he was home in Llandudno. How did he get there that fast? We may never know because it’s the secret of Conwy Castle.

FIRST PLACE, 9-10 year olds
Untitled
By Shanti Morrell, age 10
Home Source Family Charter
Eugene, OR

I was walking down our long and winding driveway to get the mail with my dog, Bolter. Night was almost here. When I reached the mailbox, Bolter leapt off into the dark trees. I followed reluctantly. Bolter did have a habit of leaping off like that, but otherwise was a well-behaved dog. When I got into the gloomy forest, I thought I heard raspy whispering. The sound frightened me, but I couldn’t identify its source. I tried to ignore it, retrieved Bolter and walked back over to the mailbox. I just couldn’t get the continuous, indistinct whispering out of my head. I whipped around. I saw the woods behind me but nothing else. The whispering got louder. It seemed to come from the ground. Terrified, I looked down. My eyes fell to my shadow. Although I was still, my shadow was moving! I saw my shadow punching itself in the head. My head throbbed and the next thing I knew I was on the ground. I wondered if I was hallucinating! I looked around, and saw my own body standing in front of me. I was convinced I must be crazy. Then I saw my body dancing and jumping around gleefully. When I felt my limbs pulled along, the realization dawned on me. I had been enslaved by my own shadow…

SECOND PLACE, 9-10 year olds
“Nightmare”
By Gabrielle Lehnert, age 10
Willagillespie Elementary
Eugene, OR

Eyes fly open, goosebumps rise, heart pounds.
Nightmare.
Look around, fog hanging, start to shake.
Nightmare.
Stay still, bed creaks, breeze blows.
Nightmare.
Teeth chatter, sour smell, nose wrinkles.
Nightmare.
Clouds thin, blanket rough, turning stomach.
Nightmare.
Eyes close, breathing steadies, feeling better.
Nightmare.

THIRD PLACE, 9-10 year olds
“The Haunted Beach”
By Katie Wardan, age 10
Bertha Holt Elementary
Eugene, OR

 There are tales that on a certain beach in Maui, Hawaii, there is a ghost. Sudden cool breezes wisp across the sand signaling something sinister.

 Locals say a girl was swept away by a gigantic tidal wave while building a sandcastle. The girl placed the last shell on the castle, looked up, and saw a wave pounding towards her like a freight train. With no warning, she was gone.

 Now, whenever anyone builds a sandcastle on that beach, as they put the last shell on top of their creation, it seems they just suddenly disappear. Mysteriously, no one ever sees what happens. When witnesses look back, all that is left of the sandcastle is a crumpled pile of sand.

 Some people say that the ghost of the unlucky girl still haunts the beach, paralyzing everyone else into looking the other way, while she takes the child making the sandcastle, and throws them into the ocean, to drown and never come back up. It reminds her of her own fatal accident.

 So always be on the lookout, and never build a sandcastle in Maui, Hawaii.
WATCH OUT!!!!
Will the ghost be coming for you next?

FIRST PLACE, 11-13 year olds
“Ghost Road”
By Ronan Hall, age 13
Cottage Grove High School
Cottage Grove, OR

 I’m walking on a road; a road I have never seen before. The road is in a forest. A boy is walking on the road next to me. I don’t know who he is, but it seems that we have always been here.

 “Where are you going?” I ask him.

 The shadows of the world are his voice. “Home.”

 “Why?”

 “My family lost me. One day I woke up they were all crying. And they didn’t see me anymore.” The darkness whispers.

 He has a folded piece of paper in his hand. I take it; he lets me.

 It reads: “Death Certificate of Jake Reynolds.”

 The date on the paper is 1994.

 Four years ago.

 I take his hand. I read the certificate aloud as we walk:

 “Jake Reynolds died of an aneurysm on April 3, 1994.”

 The forest disappears; the little boy and I stroll into a field. We aren’t touching the grass. I can hear everything: every wolf that has ever bayed under the moon, every breeze that has ever rustled the grass, and everything else that has ever happened since the beginning. A hound dog barks and gallops up to him, tongue lolling. He faces me, nods, and runs off with the red hound at his side. He fades into the landscape.

 A black mare trots towards me. There is a newspaper in her mouth. I read the headlines: TEEN HIT BY CAR DIES IN HOSPITAL – Age 16, Lidya Martindale, was hit by a car on April 3rd…

 That’s me; that’s my name. I’m dead. The mare snorts impatiently. It is time for me to go now. This is the end for me. My life ended today. Your life may end tomorrow. You never know.

SECOND PLACE, 11-13 year olds
“Death by Candy”
By Dylan Troyer, age 11
Spencer Butte Middle School
Eugene, OR

What a diabolical holiday to devise,
Leading children to a sugary demise,
Death traps lurk in colorful disguise.
So beware trick-or-treaters; don’t trust your eyes.

Every October; the very last day,
The chocolate demons come out to play.
Children drown in liquid taffy.
And the demons, they just sit there laughing.

Todd got hung from a licorice noose,
Bob was run over by a gummy caboose.
Sue was eaten by a Swedish fish shark,
And Matilda got sour-punch mugged in the dark.

So children, be careful which doorbell you ring,
You never know what Halloween will bring.
We chocolate demons lurk on every route,
Except for the houses where the lights are out.

THIRD PLACE, 11-13 year olds
“The Deepest Fear”
By Laura Duffield, age 13
Thurston Middle School
Springfield, OR

 Griffon thought he’d known every inch of this forest…apparently not. He’d never seen this before: a mirror spanning to both sides, names etched into the unblemished surface. Something seemed wrong. He frowned at his reflection. What about it troubled him? He stumbled back in fear and confusion.

His image. Broken by names. Flawless, non-freckled skin, unlike the real Griffon. The eyes were closed, like he had died, his skin bleached.

 Wrong. Everything wrong.

 Griffon turned, hoping someone had followed him, fearful for his safety.

 He was alone.

 Griffon turned to his reflection. Froze. Wrong.

 Open eyes glowed, unnaturally green, stared back; a wide grin, like a madman before he goes for your neck, a predatory glint in horrible eyes.

 “My first meal.”

 The reflection, Griffon and not Griffon, stepped out of the mirror towards Griffon.

 “What are you?” Griffon whimpered as he backed away.

 It stopped, never blinking, impossibly real, eying him hungrily, half leering, smirking.

 “Me?” it said in that raspy voice. “I’m the real you.”

 Then it turned into wispy darkness, going through the young man, through his heart, never coming out his back and it was all happening too fast, too fast.

 Then it was in his mind, biting, gnawing, dark, unstoppable. It ate at his soul, pulled at his mind, twisted his memories, filled its gaping maw with Griffon’s sanity and strength, he couldn’t fight it or hide, the pain was killing him, killing him. The last thing Griffon saw was his name, rippling ever gently, fading from the mirror, it had never even been there.

FIRST PLACE, 14-18 year olds
“One Hundred Heartbeats”
By Emma Saisslin, age 15
Sheldon High School
Eugene, OR

It’s a cold and moonless night.
Death sits on a tombstone,
Legs crossed and arms folded,
Long fingernails clicking impatiently atop the grave.
A young man stands in front of her.
Daniel.

He’s here
Because tonight’s the Death Moon,
And if you come to the graveyard,
And if you say please,
Death will give you one of her subjects back.
Just to borrow, just for a little while.

You have to pay, of course.
But it’s nothing you’ll miss.
Not really.

Daniel looks into Death’s pale eyes.
He doesn’t flinch.
A brave one, Death thinks.
Handsome, too.

I’m here for my Rosaline, he tells her.

Death nods.
She knows this already.
Knows he’s half of a whole
That she tore apart.

She asks if he knows how the trade works.

He doesn’t.

Death sighs.
One hundred heartbeats.
That’s what you trade.
And then for the time of one hundred heartbeats,
She’ll be yours again.
She pauses.
This is what you want?

His response is immediate.
More than anything.

Death nods,
Then touches her icy lips to his.
Her heart begins to beat just as Daniel’s stops.

Death smiles grimly,
And pulls a girl from the darkness.
Blonde hair, pink lips, silver eyes.
Rosaline.

He gasps.
She runs to him.
He whispers her name between cold kisses.
For one hundred heartbeats,
It’s as though she never left his arms.

But then
Breath returns to Daniel’s lips.
Time’s up, Death snaps.

I love you, Rosaline whispers to Daniel,
Crystalline tears shining on her face
As she dissolves into the night,
Leaving Daniel clutching empty air.

Desperately,
His eyes rove the darkness,
Searching for Rosaline,
Or the merchant who lent her to him.
But Death has vanished,
And he’s left alone,
Standing in the graveyard,
On a cold and moonless night.

SECOND PLACE, 14-18 year olds
“Howling on the Hill”
By Sabrina Zawierucha, age 15
South Eugene High School
Eugene, OR

Broken mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the unluckiest of them all?
Black cat through the ladder
Shrieking to a pitter-patter

Garlic around my neck
A picture of a sea-wreck
Wolves howl on the hill
Near the house of dead and ill

I stand alone in the dark
The sight will surely leave a mark
Skulls and swords and ghosts galore
Must I see any more?

A cold breeze through the hall
The chandelier swings high and tall
Glowing hallways, filled with groans
Upset stomachs and angry moans

I feel someone staring at me
Glowing eyes, I cannot see
Darkness overcomes the light
I cannot fight or flight

Whispers fill the air
Movement in the halls, everywhere
Something grabs my shoulder
A hand as hard as a boulder

I walk the stairs, feeling weak
Soon I hear an eerie creek
An owl sitting by the moon
The night will be over soon

The groans continue to moan
The ghosts make a grisly tone
If only I hadn’t gone alone
Into the house of Mr. Bone

Broken mirror, on the wall,
Who’s the unluckiest of them all?
Black cat through the ladder
Shrieking to my pitter-patter.

THIRD PLACE, 14-18 year olds
“The Long Walk Home”
By Kaelan Recca, age 14
Crow High School

 I was walking home from school late that day, the crisp, clean, dark cold air filled my lungs as I walked on past vast quantities of trees. The landscape was incredible, it almost looked as if the sky was colored over with a white colored pencil as the moon shone brightly off everything I could see. And then a noise, a screeching, terrible sound that was quiet, but easily heard. The sound grew louder and louder. I decided to start jogging, but the sound kept pace.

 My throat was dry as the Dust Bowl but I kept on running. It seemed as though no matter how fast I ran, the noise kept up with me. So I decided to wait to see what it was. Eventually the noise came so unbearable that I just had to continue running home. Soon after I started running again I heard footsteps in the distance, I started to panic. I turned to my left and saw a dense patch of trees that, without further hesitation, I jumped into.

 I waited for something to happen; it felt like an eternity before something actually did. After a while a big black shadowy figure emerged from what seemed like nowhere. It was bigger and taller than a bear and it walked on two legs like us. I could not really tell its shape because it was almost transparent and it did not seem to actually be there, it almost seemed like black fog.

 I slowly came out from under a tree and it saw me. Its ice blue eyes seemed to stare right through me. It came at an astonishing rate right towards me. Then its shadowy figure touched the tip of my nose and then it was over.