Creative Writing workshop

Students from 2nde and 1ère have attended a Creative Writing workshop. First, they had a short session to revise the main “ingredients” of a story and different prompts were proposed and discussed. Then, each one was free to write her/his story using one of the prompts proposed or inventing it all from scratch. The students’ creativity and ease with written English are quite remarkable, as you will see! By the way, the only editing done was mainly related to the use of the past perfect. Here are some of their stories. (Beatrice Bastide, English teacher)

Story by Marie LEFEVRE

Weird. How could I have not noticed that door before? This was crazy. I reached for the knob. When I attempted to turn it, it didn’t move an inch. What use was a door that appeared overnight but didn’t open? That’s when I noticed, my hand still on the knob, that a muffled sound was coming from it. I removed my hand from the rusty gold knob to find a face. And an unpleasant one at that. Although that was most likely because I had been smothering said face with my hand. That’s when it spoke:

“Oh my gosh don’t you have any manners? Who do you think you are suffocating me like that?”

The heat of the accusation burned right through my shock and allowed me to reply with all the sarcasm I could muster:

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was my mistake. I should have known that for the first time in my 17 years of life the doorknob would HAVE A FACE AND TALK.”

The doorknob rolled its eyes. I stared at it.

“It’s impolite to stare you know,” it said matter-of-factly.

“By the way, I’m Tiffany,” the doorknob continued.

“You’re a girl?”  I blurted.

“What, doorknobs aren’t allowed to be female? Tell me this, how would doorknobs reproduce if none of us were female?” replied the doorknob, clearly affronted by my outburst.

“To be honest I’ve never really given much thought to doorknob reproduction. Anyway, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, and I would like to apologize, as it was my fault. Partially. I’m Barbara.”

The doorknob snorted.

By  Victoire Bonasse

In another dimension, far away from the one we know, a mysterious and mystical wizard finds an old dusty book…

Henri did not understand what is happening. Since he had woken up that morning, his normal day he had been living normally the exact same way for the past twenty years, had been completely different. First off, his cat, Jody, was supposed to get on his bed to wake him up at 8:30 a.m. exactly. But today, he came at 8:36 a.m. Henri did not like it. Henri likes precision. Secondly, the normal breakfast  he normally eats at 9:11 a.m. was then delayed by six minutes, so his two toasts  he normally eats were not buttered enough. But those events were not the only odd things in his day, and Henri would be hard pressed to tell them all. Yet, he knows that something is going wrong. But what?

In the other dimension, Goldorov The Wizard was preparing a smelly potion. Finding this 200-years-old book wad hard, he thought, but he had made it. And now, he was about to change the course of humanity. In his crystal ball, he could see through all dimensions, and especially the one of Henri Bikees. The secret wish of Goldorov, since he was a child, was to swap up lives with this basic American guy. He wanted, with all his heart, to be a human, on Earth, living a normal life normally. And he was going to achieve his life dream. Just a drop of that, and a part of this, and…

Suddenly, Henri felt like drowning while walking. He could not breathe anymore, and fell on the street  on his way to  work. Unfortunately, Henri does not have that much friends. He has none, actually. That was in fact another reason for Goldorov to choose this guy, unknown to the population. Goldrov could then replace him in this dimension, and no one would ever notice anything. Henri was like glass: transparent.

When Goldorov took Henri’s place, Henri realized that he was no longer in the street, but in a weird smelly place. When he found out the potion Goldorov was making, he immediately understood what was going on. His pulse quickened. But, looking closer at the book, a little annotation at the bottom said that if the potion was made to be eternal, then the one making the potion needed to add a bit of… The end of the sentence had been erased by the time. The potion was then going to last only 10 minutes, as Henri saw at the back of the page. Please, he thought, take me back to my normal life. He decided to wait until the wizard and himself would take back their regular life, and that is what happened.

When waking up from the street where he had fallen, Henri realized something. His life had always been perfect for him: no surprise, no stress, no difficulties with people. He had lived in a bubble, and he had been happy like that. But what he realized at this moment, is that he had never felt so alive as during this odd day he had just lived.

By LUCKKANA, Pavani

Weird. How could I have not noticed that door before? This was crazy. I reached for the knob and I found myself being transported through a portal. After what felt an eternity, I landed in front of a house that seemed to belong to medieval times. I looked around, trying to figure out where I was but my surroundings were all foreign to me. It was at that moment I spotted a wood sign with « Welcome to the kingdom of Marlonxiera » engraved on it. Marlonxiera? Like in the lost city? I began panicking yet a feeling of excitement was starting to build inside of me. I could feel my heartbeat drumming though my body, adrenaline and fear were pulsing though my veins. I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths but it was useless.

« What are you doing here sir, the coronation is about to start. » An unknown man approached me.

« Pardon me? »

« Queen Alexandria is being crowned. » He simply pointed towards a castle and then ran off to this direction.

Marlonxiera? Coronation? Queen Alexandria? This seems all too familiar. Moments later it hit me, I could feel all the colors from my face drain faster than ever. Today was the day princess Alexandria would take over. The day she would claim a power she’d never thought she would have, a nation she never thought she would rule, a crown she never thought would one day become hers but little did she know that she had just sold herself to the devil.

By Camille Lapierre

The rocks

He was a beautiful blue butterfly, with large wings filled of violet reflections. He sat on top of a rose’s rod and watched the horizon. May he find comfort in the memory of his life well lived.

The night was falling when he decided to fly away, among the trees in the forest.  He followed his usual path which never looked good enough for him.

While flying over the river, he could feel his old big wings weighing on his shoulders. Time. Such a larva!

Then he sat on top of a rock in the river. As he watched his reflection in the water, he tended to think that he was too old and ugly to live now. As he watched his reflection in the water, he could see his beloved ones calling him to join them in the water. So, he jumped.

Usually, when people drown, they try to reach the light over the water. But he couldn’t see anything and kept struggling .In vain…Darkness. Another dangerous predator.

Then, he felt trapped in a strong and hairy paw. It was a bear fishing in the river on top of a big rock. He could breathe again and was  close to the enormous  bear’s face, who asked him:

“  What are you doing here?”

• Well, I was drowning.
• As a nocturnal butterfly, you should be able to follow your path.

The butterfly waited a moment before answering him.

• I think I lost the path while counting the rocks on it.
• Oh my boy! That doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t die by falling from a rock. What is essential is to use the next rock to get back up and rise again.

Then, he released the butterfly in the night, flying back to his path.

By Pavnya MOOTOOCURPEN, 1 STMG

I had everything I needed in my pockets: twenty-five dollars, Chap Stick, a map and the jewelry that my betrothed’s family had gifted me in exchange of the enormous dowry they had requested. To be honest, I didn’t like the boy, I didn’t like his family, I didn’t even want to get married. Nobody had even bothered to ask for my opinion, they had just finalized the alliance to secure a good future for me and my siblings. Baba knew about my ambitions, but his traditional upbringing didn’t allow him to act differently when his brother announced that he had found a suitor for me.

That is why I began my journey to Delhi, where my elder brother’s friend was waiting for me at the railway station. That’s why, I promised myself I wouldn’t go back home until I was able to save my family from being ruined. That’s why I swore to myself  I wouldn’t look back until I was able to save the other girls that are being forcefully married to men twice their age.

That’s why I am writing this, for you to raise your voice and fight for your rights like I am doing.

By Lily VAUDEQUIN, 1ère C

Yesterday was the last day of winter, the nightingales started singing, people were going out wearing colorful clothes and the sky became blue. Today it’s spring and nothing can replace the feeling I have in my stomach when this season comes back every year. The flowers are growing, covering the entire city of a wonderful pastel pink, a vibrant blue and a colorful rainbow every time it’s raining. All over the world, people are getting happier and all around me I can hear the sound of the wind blowing minds as it goes on and on during the days.

Tomorrow I will jump out of my bed knowing that my feet are going to feel the wet soil in the fields, my hands are going to cut a bunch of flowers while my nose will be overwhelmed by their smell and my eyes amazed by all this beautiful colors…

By Kuberr DULJEET, 1ère E

Weird. How could I have not noticed that door before? This was crazy. I reached for the knob. In vain:  the door was key locked. The key must have been hidden somewhere, I said to myself. Starting to search for it, I noticed a flower pot not far away from that mysterious door. Found it! The person who had hidden it there was not very intelligent. I quickly grabbed it. It had a strange shape, at least one I had never seen before. I took a deep breath and inserted it into the keyhole.

The wooden door was suddenly opened but I still had to push it , which was not an easy task for me , as I had tiny hands and little strength. It opened on secret room, which was pitch black. No lights and no sound. A light breeze froze my whole body. Trying to see something, I took a flashlight from my backpack and turned it on. I walked further inside the room with the beam of my light but I was not able to reach the end of the chamber, as if it did not have and ending. A strange feeling took possession of me and I had the impression of being observed. Afraid, I turned around and ran, but the door closed, leaving me alone in the dark.

By Morgane VEERAMOOTOO, 1ère E

Weird how did I not notice this door before? This was crazy, were the rumors true? No, this was probably my imagination. I did buy this house on a whim, but the house was mesmerizing; the only thing was that a rumored murder apparently had occurred there 15 years before. A woman lost her life to her husband: he cut her throat and let her bleed out on her wedding night in their room. It is said that her body still roams the place looking for revenge .The story rendered the price very low, however it was only a rumor: after all, the corpse had never been actually found.

I was probably tired from work, yet I was sure that there were no rooms here. The door was grey, a dull silver color and spotted with years of water damage, quite odd for a house that looked so modern. The fancy handle seemed to call out to me somehow. I closed my fingers around it to twist the dark cold knob and before I knew it, I was inside the dark room.

The marble floor felt cold against my bare feet, and as I walked further and further in the room a strong horrible smell filled the place making me unable to breathe. I carefully let my hand slide against the wall searching for a light switch. I felt a chill down my spine when I stepped on a sticky liquid of the floor… it’s probably nothing, I said to myself. A copper taste filled my mouth as I reached the back of the room and the light switch. I was paralyzed as I saw the scene before me: a young lady in a veil and a bloodied wedding dress was smiling at me. I tried to run to the door but her fingers closed upon my wrist, a burning feeling filled my entire body.

“Let’s paint the walls red again,” said her deformed mouth.

The locked door by Anika Sennik

He takes another sip, coffee drops spill on the tiles below his scraped knees. He gulps down glasses and glasses, taking it all in. The coffee stains fax paper machines and colored ink pens everywhere. He looks down and lets it all out. A miserable life fit for a miserable man. The clock ticks, needles and numbers float in the air, time and space stuck in a motion of envy and destruction. His eyes red from the glare, his nose wrinkled upwards as if waiting for the man with no face, his lips perking forward. He is like a cheetah waiting for his prey, but instead, he is the prey.

A telephone rings and he jumps. Startled by the sharp and pitched sound coming from the other room. He looks straight ahead, closes his eyes, and, in a sigh, he blurts out crepusculum. When he finally opens his eyes, he’s there again. Dark, cold, musty. He can feel the energy and emotions loose in the air above his head. Traveling closer and closer to his skin, shivers cover the entirety of his body. His hands go numb and his nose turns bright red. He pulls the emerald out from underneath his shirt. The pendant shines and falls on the floor, pulling his neck and body with it. “shoot! I forgot!”, he says as he takes out the pendant from around his neck and stand up. Looking right ahead, the door is staring right back at him. He puts his hand on it and immediately pulls away. “don’t be stupid”, says a voice in his head, “you already tried that one”. He sighs, steps back and holds onto the emerald. Crepusculum. And he’s back, on his desk, sipping coffee and smelling the fax paper as oxygen.

The door stayed locked. He just couldn’t get it to open. He tried every day of every week of ever year for the past 5 years of his life. Every time he tried, the man with no face would return, “you’ve tried that already”, “it’s useless at this point”, “just give up!”. The insults grew bigger and stronger and harsher until there was nothing else, he could do. He fought long and hard and pushed and screamed at the man to leave but he never did. He never left; he was always there. To point out, to make remarks, to tell jokes and to criticize everything and everyone. And so, the door stayed close, the emerald was put away and the word was left unused.

“Welcome everyone, thank you all for being here today. We appreciate and respect each and every one of you. Shall we start?”

She looked at him.

“Uhmm… hello, my name is Inferus, and I have a problem.”

The mysterious elevator by Tiya RAMANAH

The building was seven stories tall, and the elevator doors closed before I noticed that the buttons weren’t labelled with floors numbers. Instead, each one was inscribed with a year: 1775, 1850, 1920, 1920, 1944, 1962, 1980. The seventh button only said “Surprise Me”. There was nothing to push to make the doors open again, and no option to call for help. I’d have to choose one…

As curious as I was, I decided to choose the seventh button, before I could even think about my decision, the elevator started moving and it kept going faster and faster. As it went up, I started to think that maybe I should’ve chosen another button and not the one where was written “Surprise Me”. But, I’m always up for something new that inspires adventure, so I started to imagine what could “Surprise Me” mean? “Maybe I’ll end up in 2050… that would be cool” I wondered… As my head slowly started to get filled with thoughts, I got more and more excited to know what could possibly be behind that door. BAM! Suddenly, the elevator stopped and I jolted to the back and hit my head hard enough for me to feel queasy. After 5 mins, I got up and the doors began to slowly open, I started to feel the excitement and the joy building up, I felt a burst of mixed emotions. The doors finally opened and I couldn’t believe my eyes, there he was, standing right in front of me, his eyes glaring into my soul. At first, I didn’t recognize him but then it hit me, I saw him in the news…. He was one of the most wanted criminals of the country. He grabbed my hand and said “You’re late darling”.

The door in Mike’s room by Anne-Claire Adone, 2nde SI

Weird. How could I have not noticed that door before? This was crazy. I reached for the knob slowly. It was just a door but it was making me so uncomfortable, I just wanted to hide under my pillow for the rest of the night.

« I am not a coward! », I whispered to myself.

When my hand touched the knob, I couldn’t stand the pain.

« Damn! » I said before collapsing on the floor.

I was burnt in a second; my hand was deprived of all sensitivity. My skin turned purple. The fact is that the knob wasn’t hot, instead it was extremely cold! Have you ever been burnt with cold?

As I was lying on my back, I felt a cold vapour tickle my ears. I immediately tried to figure out where it was coming from, all my windows were shut…Then I realized that under the mysterious  door there was a thin and luminous line, I put my head near it… cold.

Some time passed and my room was getting cooler and cooler even though we were in the middle of summer. I was huddled under my duvet and I knew where this cold was coming from but I was too scared to approach it again. Even just looking at it was giving me chills.

My hand was hurting so bad, I decided to move out of my room to put it under water or whatever could help the pain. It was really difficult to get out of my bed, as I was sure that at any moment the door might open and something would came out, see me trying to escape, and kill me. However if I stayed there I would die, too… of hypothermia.

Step by step, i reached my usual blue door, without hesitation I quickly opened it and banged it behind me when I was on the other side. A wave of heat attacked me, it was so hot outside but I was still relieved.

I slept on the couch and the next day I told my mum what had happened the night before. Strangely, my hand seemed intact and that’s why she didn’t believed me. When she entered to room… there were no additional doors… all was completely normal. My mom told me it must have been a very bad dream, that was all.

I know you might think I’m insane but I know it wasn’t a dream, I never slept in that room after this incident and I saw a lot of psychologists. I don’t know what was behind this door, and I maybe never will, but what I am sure about is that it was real.