S ti ll Conscious Zara Green, Year 7
but as I tried to move, I felt a sharp tug in my gut, as if something was tethering me to the slaughterhouse. I pulled harder but all that did was blur my vision un ti l everything went black. I woke up in a bucket. A bucket in the back of the boss’ fast food shop. I tried to move but I felt all crusty. Then I realised. I was covered in breadcrumbs! I had been cooked into a greasy chicken nugget. I tried to cry out, to get some help, but I couldn’t speak. “Of course you can’t speak!” I chas ti sed myself. You’re a chicken nugget idiot! A small, insigni fi cant nugget, whose only purpose in life is to be a snack for a bloated human. So I waited in the dark. I stayed in that dark for a few days, that musty dark that made you feel su ff ocated, and in that ti me, I realised a few things. One was, no chicken had a purpose other than to be food and if I ful fi lled that purpose, it was an achievement on my part. The second point was, I wasn’t afraid of death anymore, because it was all just another journey into the great unknown. So, when the human raised me to their plump, chapped lips, I embraced the moment eagerly. And if I got a new purpose on this journey… well, that would be the ketchup on top, wouldn’t it?
Most people believe that when something’s slaughtered, it stops thinking. That’s not true. It doesn’t lose consciousness; it just gains it in a di ff erent form. It’s like being paralysed. Able to hear, see, and think, but unable to interact with its surroundings. Take me for example, a chicken nugget, and yet, thanks to advanced, mind ‐ reading technology, I can write this. How did I get here you ask? Well, it all started when I was a lowly hen… I had a good life. I pecked at seeds with my friends, took a nap, then a tt empted to lay an egg and every Sunday, the boss would come out and measure us! I never knew why, un ti l one fateful day, when they led me to a large metal barn and laid me on a shiny table. I wasn’t bothered, because this was how the vet checked us for fl eas and bird ‐ fl u (among other things). I was comfortable, un ti l the boss grabbed my jugular with his huge meaty hands and picked up a lethal ‐ looking axe. I saw my life fl ash before my eyes. So this is where Mary and Josh went! They were killed by a human in a brutal act of chickencide! He raised the rusty weapon. I braced for impact. I felt my spirit leaving my limp body. I saw the boss carrying it to the factory. He owned a small fast ‐ food chain you see, only not as chicken friendly as KFC or McDonalds. I wanted to follow him, to haunt him as a ghost,
THE LIBRARY OF THE HIDDEN Cecilia Byrne, Year 7
“You can’t just leave it like that!” Alice complained. Mark shrugged without looking up from his book. “It’s not like we’re expec ti ng royalty.” Alice rolled her eyes and grabbed a sponge. She had tried to wake him for work, and he had thrown a frying pan at her in his sleep ‐ induced confusion. The eggs had spla tt ered against the wall, leaving a greasy, yellow mess. Her mind was already preoccupied with the day’s to ‐ do list. Her job as an archivist at the Library of the Hidden was a secret she had to keep from everyone that entailed many tasks. The very walls of the library held secrets that could shake the founda ti ons of reality if in the wrong possession. The clock on the wall ti cked con ti nuously, each second a reminder of her shi ft . She threw the sponge into the sink. “I’ve got to go,” she said, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She descended the stairs and a ft er a struggle, emerged onto the bustling street. The transi ti on from the quiet of their apartment to the chaos outside was always jarring. The library was hidden, nestled between a dry cleaner and a 24 ‐ hour convenience store in a part of town that was always buzzing with life. Yet, the entrance remained unno ti ced by the naked eye. The smell of ancient parchment washed over her as she entered. The library was vast, with towering shelves that seemed to go on forever. As Alice made her way to her desk, she no ti ced something unfamiliar. A fi gure lurked in the shadows, someone she had never seen before. Her heart raced.
The girl stepped into the light, revealing a cascade of red hair. She was young, with wide emerald eyes that sparkled with innocence. Alice let out a sigh of relief but she didn’t let her guard down en ti rely. “What are you doing here?” Alice asked sharply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just looking around.” Her voice was sweet, with a hint of an accent that suggested she wasn’t from the city. “This isn’t a place for tourists,” she said, keeping calm. “How did you even fi nd it?” “I followed a map,” she said, pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. “A map to the Library of the Hidden?” Alice ques ti oned. “Those are rare, and only given to those who are ini ti ated. How did you get your hands on it?” The girl hesitated, then spoke. “I’ve been having these dreams. They’re of places and creatures that aren’t from this world. And I know it sounds crazy, but I think I’m meant to be a part of something greater. Then in the morning, a map from one of my dreams was laying on my bedside table.” “You think you’re one of us.” Alice said staying serious. “Us?” she whispered. “The guardians. The ones who keep the balance between the mortal world and the realms of the hidden. It’s a gi ft and a cur ‐ ”she stopped, she sensed another being with them…
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