Fiction Features

Some of the members of RGJS news are avid readers and writers of fiction. Below are some of their creative writes that they would like to share with you!

Once upon a time, there was a little island in the middle of the Catlantis Ocean called Pawradise island. That’s because, yep,you guessed it, it was paradise! There were flowers everywhere, the grass was as green as emeralds, and the weather was perfect.

Anyways, enough of that, let’s meet our hero, Pickles, shall we? By the looks of him, with his long, fluffy tail and ginger fur, he looked like an ordinary young cat from Pawradise Island. But unlike every other cat, Pickles’ biggest fear was… spiders.

However, on this peaceful island, there was an evil cat called Grief. Grief had a horrific plan of taking over the island! In order to do this, he had to get rid of everybody on the island. So he invited everyone on the island to a fake ball; and everyone came. Well, almost everyone.Pickles’ mean big brother, Razor, made Pickles stay at home. So Pickles stayed behind and went to sleep, but when he woke up in the morning, everybody had disappeared!

“Guys?” Pickles called out, starting to have second thoughts about the ball last night.

Just then, a loud ‘Scwak’ and ‘crash’ coming from outside interrupted his thoughts.

As quick as a flash, he got dressed and ran outside. There was a little bird and it was being attacked by an eagle.

’Poor thing’ thought Pickles. So he helped the little bird by scaring the mighty eagle away.

“Thank you for saving me, I barely just escaped from that evil cat’s lair, if you want, I can show you the way” the small bird said.

Pickles took a deep breath, then said “Fine, I’ll do it, for my family!”

Once they got there Pickles realised that the townsfolk were inside a giant spider’s cave, so he had to overcome his fears to save them.It wasn’t going to be easy, but he had no other choice, it was now or never.So he snuck inside, found the key, freed his fellow cats and they all ran outside.

While the police was taking Grief to jail, Pickles realised that facing your fears is just a part of growing up and it is necessary.After all of that they lived happily ever after.

                       The end

P.S.Or is it?

P.P.S.Yes it is.

Science today was mental. Mr. Thompson said we were doing an experiment with “chemical reactions,” which sounded serious but actually meant chaos.

We put on goggles that stunk like someone’s trainers after P:E . Mine were so foggy I could barely see. He gave me a beaker with some glowing blue liquid, and Alfie got bright yellow stuff. He whispered, “Bet it tastes nice,” which proves he’s an idiot.

We were told to add them slowly. Did Alfie listen? No. He tipped the entire yellow lot into my beaker in one go.

The reaction was instant. A hissing sound, then foam burst out like a volcano crossed with slime. It sprayed the bench, the floor, and worst of all, my homework book. The foam bubbled and pulsed like it was alive, climbing higher and higher until it started sliding towards the corridor. Everyone backed away like it was about to eat us.

Alfie stuck a ruler in it, which disappeared completely. He thought that was hilarious until the blob spat it back out, snapped in half. By then, the whole class was yelling, and Mr. Thompson dashed over with a giant tub of powder. He chucked it on and the blob shrivelled up like a balloon losing air.

Then he said, very calmly but terrifyingly, “This is why you follow instructions.” We got detention, plus the joy of writing this report.

Question: What happens when you mix blue liquid with yellow liquid?
Hypothesis: You get green, because that’s what happens in art.
Equipment: 2 beakers, 1 smelly pair of goggles, 1 reckless friend.
Method: My partner ignored the rules and tipped everything in.
Results: Foam monster attacked the classroom.
Conclusion: Reactions are dangerous. Alfie should never be trusted with science.

The end.

Dear diary (day one),

Last night, I had a terrible dream ..or at least I think I did? I sensed trouble.. 

My fear was made more terrible as I woke up to find that it may not have been a dream at all. I was wet. Somehow still tightly wrapped in my duvet. Salt stung my eyes and I heard the screech of wild birds circling around me. I felt parched…there was a sharp yellow sun blazing down like a giant lightbulb. 

Remains of a storm wind bent the palm trees hanging above me. I heard the roar of waves crashing on a distant reef. Remains of what was once my home for the last two months lay scattered around my blistered feet. I grabbed my belongings that had been half buried under the sand, my clothes and broken coconut palms. My poor beautiful white sailing boat. 

What happened overnight? Was I still dreaming or was this all real?

I lay on a beautiful gold beach. The click of small crabs scurrying about the wreckage snapped me out of my daydream ..my nightmare should I say!

Surprisingly, it seems I was completely unharmed and felt thankful I didn’t drown in my sleep!

I jumped up to my feet and started rummaging through the rest of the wreckage that scattered across the whole length of the bay. As if by miracle I found drums of water and some food ration packages that would keep me alive for a couple of days or at least until I could work out where I was.

I also found the ship's radio in perfect condition despite being in the salty water. The next step is to send out an SOS.

Dear diary (day two),

Feeling a lot better today and slowly getting used to my surroundings. As much as it is horrible to be shipwrecked, this is really quite an amazingly beautiful island with one of the most amazing beaches I’ve ever been on in my life. It's a jungle island with a single huge grey mountain towering up in the centre completely covered in thick green vines and luscious carpeting moss. The trees are packed full of beautifully different life and coloured birds that look like a rainbow against the green sea of the jungle.

Last night I managed to craft myself and makeshift camp out of some of the remains of my wrecked boat and the big palm tree leaves. I dried my sandy duvet out in the scorching sun and was actually able to use it as a cover again. After sending messages out on the radio, for a couple of hours I managed to get through to somebody. A small container ship got my signal and said that from my radio broadcast they could work out where I was. I was filled with happiness of course, but they said it’s going to be at least a couple of days before they can get to me so I’ll have to fend for myself until then.

I’m really looking forward to exploring this amazing island and who knows what adventures I will have ahead of me.

This piece of writing is about a girl who drifts of into her happy place, in which she questions herself with deeper thoughts. She feels joyful.

The morning felt lighter than usual, like the day had decided to be nice on purpose. Sunlight spilled through my window in wide, golden stripes, warming the posters on my wall and the floor I never bothered to clean. Outside, the trees leaned gently in the breeze, their leaves flashing green like they were waving at something I couldn’t see yet.

I went out early, before the world got loud. The sidewalk was cool under my shoes, and the air smelled like fresh grass and someone’s laundry drifting from an open window. It felt like one of those days where anything could happen, not in a dramatic way, just in a quiet, meaningful one.

The town looked the same as always, but I noticed things I usually ignored. Cracks in the pavement filled with tiny yellow flowers. A bike chained to a sign, paint chipped from years of being loved. The sky stretched wide and open above everything, impossibly blue, like it was making space for big thoughts.

I sat on the hill behind the school, the one everyone forgets about. From there, you can see almost everything the rooftops, the streets curling into each other, the places where people live their lives without realizing how beautiful it all looks from far away. The grass brushed against my hands, soft and alive, and I leaned back, letting the sun hit my face.

For once, my mind wasn’t racing. The future still existed, still confusing and heavy, but it didn’t feel like it was chasing me. It felt more like a door I hadn’t opened yet. And instead of fear, there was curiosity.

A breeze passed through, lifting the grass and carrying laughter from somewhere nearby. It reminded me that even when things are serious, they don’t have to be sad. That growing up isn’t just about pressure and choices—it’s also about moments like this, where you realize you’re still here, still learning, still allowed to hope.

I closed my eyes and breathed in, slow and deep. The world didn’t feel perfect, but it felt real, and that was enough. I knew there would be hard days, days where everything felt heavy again. But there would also be mornings like this, full of light and quiet confidence.

When I finally stood up, the sun had climbed higher, and the day was waiting. I walked back down the hill with a steady heart, carrying the feeling with me like a secret—something solid and warm that I could return to whenever things got hard.

And for the first time in a while, I felt ready.