The Latest from our Young Writers Project: The Kitten and the Dragon

Posted on: 11th Jan 2019

In our young writers project, 'Words Awry, Stories Told', students from Year 7 and Year 8 work together to create brilliant short stories. Meeting after school each week, they discuss their favourite books in the English curriculum, create themes and characters, and add a fantastic dose of imagination. We particularly love this new story by students Helen, Alyssa and Lema.

With thanks to the John Lyons Trust for their support.


By Helen, Alyssa, Lema.

I was putting out the rubbish when I heard little mews from the bin, so I quickly took out the rubbish from the bin and there was a tiny kitten, covered in mud and wrapping paper. She looked at me with eyes as bright blue as the Indian Ocean. She is very, very cute. 

The kitten had a bleeding paw so I found a clean towel and went to the PDSA in the High Street. They said I had to come back with an adult and we would have to pay. They wanted to take her from me…  I felt nervous and scared and ran off home I thought:

“I will keep her for myself.”

When I washed the kitten, pinky ginger and white fluff appeared and as I bandaged her paw, I just knew she was a girl because she is so feminine.

Then I put her on some of my twin, Yasmine’s – Oh I forgot to tidy - clothes on her side of the wardrobe. Her clothes lay in a heap, but on my side everything is on hangers.

Later that day, Matilda our babysitter gave us chicken soup for supper and I pinched some of Yasmine’s when she wasn't looking because she hates chicken soup – well actually she hates everything I like:

 “No! Ugh! Chicken soup!”

I don’t like anything she likes either…

I put the chicken soup into my little sister Erica’s tiny doll’s bottle for the kitten. When I gave it to her she really enjoyed it, so I’ve called her Soupy.

When Yasmine met Soupy she was so surprised she forgot to dislike her. Everything was fine until the next day when Yasmine discovered that Soupy had peed on her clothes. I did say sorry and I then went out and bought a litter tray with my pocket money and used old newspapers to fill it. I put Soupy under my bed and made a nest for her out of old blankets. Later that afternoon, when I opened the bedroom door, I unexpectedly saw Yasmine’s face before me and heard Yasmine’s screams of fury again. Soupy had peed on the pink dress she had worn to the wedding, the last outing with Mum… Suddenly I felt frightened.

There was no sign of Soupy. I started to call.

“Soupy! Soupy! 

No answer.

Slowly I surveyed Yasmine’s side of our bedroom, looking at the piles of clothes, nail varnish–stained carpet, and our shared wardrobe. Yasmine’s beloved Ed Sheeran posters stared down at me from her side of the wall. 

Feeling more and more worried I started to rummage through my sister’s pile of clothes, whispering:

“Soupy, Soupy.” 

From the hall outside I heard screams of:

“Expellimarius! Expellimarius!

My eldest sister Lyra was shouting a magic spell again. Then I heard her shout:

“You rotten muggles! I hate you! I’m going to Hogwarts!”

I knew it was bathtime again for my youngest brother, Markie. He is aged 4 and he has refused to have a bath for days and is getting smelly. He only wears his dragon outfit which is equally dirty… When Matilda and Lyra managed to undress him he had a massive tantrum, rushed to the wash basket, found it and put it back on. Mum made him his dragon costume.

I don’t like to think about him being little and not really understanding what’s happened to Mum…

Quickly I started calling very loudly

“Soupy! Soupy!”

Still no answer.

A rustling noise came from under the bed: Soupy’s ball of fluff, pinky ginger and white head appeared. I felt angry but relieved.

“Soupy! Why didn’t you come?”

I scooped her up and sat on the bed hugging her. Slam! The bedroom door flung open, Markie in his muddy, bedraggled, dragon costume, clutching his teddy, rushed in screaming:

“No bath! Dragons don’t have baths!”

He went to dive under the bed, saw Soupy and stopped. One filthy, green, clawed little hand shot out:

“Ooh fluffy kitty!”

The sound of Lyra stomping and shouting was now so loud that he then leapt under the bed. I thought quickly and gently put Soupy in my bed. The door flung open and Lyra, her long, brown hair swishing like a snake, stuck her head around the door:

“Jasmine, have you seen Markie? He has to have a bath tonight!”

I said:

“No I think he might be in Abdi and Abdina’s room.”

Lyra let out a groan and marched off, muttering again about spells to turn little brothers into rats.

Soupy moved under the duvet cover and gave a mew so I quickly got her out and stroked her.

Markie crawled out from under the bed. He took his dragon hood off and slowly approached and started to gently stroke her to, then he said :

“Mama no like cats.”

I thought: it is true, she loved JoJo our dog. I had asked for a kitten and Mum said:

“No I hate cats!”

Gently I sat Markie down on the bed and put Soupy on his lap. I whispered. 

“This is Soupy because she likes chicken soup.

 And Markie, Mum isn’t here.”


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