This page showcases the work of some of Brainy Alley’s best writers
My “Trunk or Treat Day” at School
by
Kaavya M
Grade 4
It was the “Trunk or Treat” event at school on the evening of Friday, October 21st. I was excited and waiting to get into my costume that I had bought four weeks ago because I really wanted to show my friend Aarshiya. My dad tried to help me wear the costume without reading the manual like he knew it all. Then we picked Aarshiya and went to school .
We reached the school in no time and got out of the car. I almost tripped, fell and turned black and blue. I felt like i was the fattest person on the planet in m inflatable chicken costume. I started moving to the school, but I was as slow as a turtle. Aashiya then said “Kaavya you’re so slow make it snappy, come on.”
When I reached the school, all the little kids started horsing around me and hugging me, saying, “Chicken jockey” for some reason and touching me so I shook a fist at them because those little kids kept annoying me and pushing me. Also, I felt like people were trying to hook me by taking away candy from my basket. As we went around exploring all the trunks, we reached a trunk which had a set-up for kids to play Mario Kart . I was unable to play with other kids since my hands were hiding inside the inflatable costume.
After a while, I was exhausted and uncomfortable, so I took off my costume. I feel there were a lot of pros and cons to my “Fall Guys Chicken” costume. I was able to make people smile but I couldn't collect my own candy as I had difficulty holding on to objects. Lastly, most of my friends did not know that it was me inside the giant inflatable until I told them.
Come On BLOOM!
by
Kaavya J
Grade 5
Once there was a world of only winter. The poor wouldn’t survive a day outside. Even Gods would fall sick in this vast world. Now, you may think that Gods are immortal. They can’t get sick. Yes, Gods are immortal, though that can't stop them from getting a disease. They are just like us, mortals, just that they can’t die.
Anyways, the Gods thought it had gone too far. They held a meeting for all the Gods so they could discuss how to stop the winter issue.
“Let’s combine our powers to make the Earth warm,” one God suggested.
“No! Too Hard!” another shouted, and the rest of the Gods agreed.
You may think this sounds stupid, but believe me, it wasn’t at all. Because the next God to be born was ME! Bloomer was my name.
When I turned ten, I got my Godly power. When a God turns ten, they get a power to help the Earth, because Earth needs help to survive. That’s why it chooses the most mature adults and children to rule this world. That’s why we are immortal.
You may also wonder why we don’t have ALL the power. That’s because one of us may decide to rule the world.
Anyways, guess what my power was? Making flowers bloom! I pointed my finger to a spot in the ground.
“Come on, bloom” I chanted.
It did, and the Earth was loaded with flowers! And that is how the Earth became the way it is.
How Fall Came into Existence
by
Anushka I
Grade 5
It was Spring and the branches of trees were giving birth to baby leaves. They never used to talk as the first words their mothers told was “Hush! Speak only when the wind commands you to!” “Be quiet! Speak when the wind is blowing.”
Leaves always remember what they are told to do. They grew up obedient. So when the wind whistled and howled, they usually talked because leaves and trees and branches always have something to gossip about. There was the occasional day when there wasn't, but most of the time, there was. Leaves and sometimes branches also love to observe. Branches did all the work, but every Sunday morning, they would chill and relax. Time flew and soon it was time for summer. It was a wonderful summer, but the leaves grew old and became adults.. The branches grew older and had less meetings.
Now, there were three months between winter and summer. Since the leaves were pretty good observers, they learned that all the humans had a name for it. They called it Autumn. The leaves wanted a different name for it. Some leaves suggested “Die” because they all died in that period of time, but it was too scary. The leaves kept on suggesting names until their last breath. The last leaf decided it would be called “Fall”. He talked to the Branches, and they agreed it would be perfect.
As he fell to the ground with all the other leaves, they all reached their hands out as a thank you note to him. His last movement before he closed his eyes and died was reaching his own hand out. They all sniffled and said, “Thank you so much for your lovely suggestion.”
A few weeks later, many of them died as it became colder and as the branches fell. The lucky ones survived and became mothers. They had babies and lived to tell the tale to the next generation of baby leaves. This time, the first words that they spoke was not when to talk, but actually a story. A story of how Fall came into existence. Soon the words spread to humans, and all the leaves from that generation only called it “Fall” and not just “Autumn”.
Eternity
by
Shravya
Grade 6
I always knew that they were hiding something from me, but I never thought it was that.
“Morgan, come inside for dinner!” my mom called, as I caught my last glimpse of the setting sun, which looked like a blank canvas splattered with dozens and dozens of blues, contrasted with oranges and reds, to make a beautiful masterpiece.
“Ok,” I responded as I made my way up the creaky wooden stairs to the inside of my house. In my house, there are a few rules. The first one is to BE TIDY AND FORMAL. We all have to sit at the big glass table, to eat our sectioned dinner, apples in the left corner, rice covering half the plate, chicken covering one third of the plate and an orange juice cup covering the rest.
One time when I was younger, I asked my mom why everything had to be so clean. She looked at me shockingly and brought me to an Exorcist. Since then, I learned that if you want to be a part of this family, you have to be neat.
“So, since you are older and more responsible, we want to tell you something.” my mom said. Uh-Oh I thought, that is never good. Her glassy skin reflected off the chandelier. I’ve always wondered why she never looks forty-seven, but like she is nineteen.
“You swear on your life that you won't tell anyone?” I nodded.
“We are immortal, and the only way that we can die is if you drinketh the immortal water,” the menacing grins explained it all, as my parents tried to hold me back.
“If thou seeks for the world beneath,
you mustn't let your child go unharmed.
Your kin must drink the water given.
to cast this spell,
be ready to kill a gazelle,” she chanted as her eyes glowed purple.
I was still trying to pry myself free from her burning hands, when all of a sudden, my mom erupted into a lime green dust explosion, blood and guts flying everywhere.
Then a mysterious voice sang,
“I counted to three,
and the potion did not swallow thee.
Now you pay the fee,
of trying to live happily”
I was still getting the blood, nerves, and was that a heart off me, when I realized that I was free.
Who cares about the mess, I thought, when I’m free!
And with that, I went running off, past the spiky electric gate, past Barbara, the suspicious old neighbor, and past the 7-11 that was always shut down.
The farther I ran, the more the cozy feeling inside of me grew.
The Missing Treasure
by
Ira
Grade 7
In the busy streets of Old Delhi, amid the noisy traffic and colorful market stalls, there was a small old shop named "Memory Treasures." Managed by the elderly Mr. Sharma, the shop was famous for its collection of special items that carried stories from the past. One special item in Mr. Sharma's possession was a beautiful wooden jewelry box, intricately carved with delicate flower patterns and small gemstones. This family heirloom had been passed down through generations. Deepika, a young woman from the neighborhood, had always been fascinated by the stories about the jewelry box. She often visited Mr. Sharma's shop, admiring its beauty and imagining the tales it held. As Deepika looked at the beautiful jewelry box, its detailed carvings captivated her, filling her with awe. She caught a whiff of the old wood, and her fingers tingled with excitement, eager to touch its smooth surface and explore the sparkling gemstones that held stories from the past. However, one day, disaster struck when the jewelry box disappeared.
The news of the jewelry box's disappearance danced through the neighborhood like a haunting melody, weaving notes of mystery and sorrow.
Mr. Sharma was heartbroken, tears filling his eyes as he talked about the sentimental value the box held for his family. As Mr. Sharma sat among the old items in his shop, he looked sadly at the empty space where the jewelry box used to be. The dim light from the dusty windows added to his somber mood. When Deepika came the next day, Mr. Sharma filled her in on the news. Saddened, she offered to help with the search.
"Deepika, my dear, thank you for coming," Mr. Sharma said with a gentle smile, his voice filled with warmth and gratitude. "I can't express how much your help means to me."
"It's no trouble at all, Mr. Sharma," Deepika replied, "I couldn't bear to see you so upset over the missing jewelry box. We'll find it, I promise." Mr. Sharma nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and sadness.
"You're a kind soul, Deepika, always thinking of others before yourself. It's a rare quality these days, and I'm truly grateful to have you by my side."
With determination guiding her, Deepika set out to find the missing jewelry box. As Deepika weaved through the crowded market, she watched vendors multitask between customers, desperate for business. As Deepika walked through the busy streets of Old Delhi, she felt like a nomad, moving through the winding paths in search of the missing jewelry box. But as days passed, her search had no results, and she started to lose hope. Deepika took a deep breath, her mind swirling with doubts and fears.
"I've never faced a challenge like this before. Can I really do it? Can I find the jewelry box and bring back happiness to Mr. Sharma?" Yet, despite her uncertainty, a newfound determination flickered within her, driving her to push forward and face whatever obstacles lay ahead.
"I may not know what will happen, but I won't give up. I'll find that jewelry box and make things right." But hours passed, and she had no luck. Before she was about to give up, she reminded herself, “Where there is a will there's a way” and kept going.
As Deepika neared the edges of the city, where children played under the bright sun, the sudden change from the busy streets of Old Delhi to the peaceful outskirts created a contrast, making her feel like she had entered a new world full of surprises and hope.
Suddenly, among the group was a girl holding the missing jewelry box tightly. As Deepika stumbled upon the missing jewelry box in the hands of a young girl, her heart leaped in sudden relief, tears welled in her eyes, mirroring the unexpected surge of emotion that swept through her. Relieved and surprised, Deepika approached the child and explained the importance of the heirloom. Moved by Deepika's story, the girl tearfully admitted to finding the jewelry box abandoned in an alley. After hearing the story behind the precious object, she realized the mistake she had made and returned it willingly. Filled with gratitude, Deepika rushed back to Mr. Sharma's shop, the jewelry box safely in her hands. As she handed it over to its owner, tears of joy filled the old man's eyes. He hugged Deepika, “Thank you for bringing back a piece of my family's history.” he cried. In the end, the once-lost jewelry box found its way home, reminding everyone of the power of kindness in the heart of Old Delhi.