Young Storykeeper Volume III

222 | STORYKEEPERS VOLUME III AGE ELEVEN | 223
PURPLE PEARLS.
Hi, I’m Kat the lighthouse keeper. The funny thing
is I am a cat. I wasn’t always a cat, but how this
happened is unimportant - just don’t mess around
with purple pearls. It’s hard work being a lighthouse
keeper especially when you have paws. But right
now, I can relax.
“So relaxing!” I said to a seagull called Heather.
“Never been this comfy before,” Heather replied.
Then the doorbell rang for the first time in years.
I jumped on to the handle and opened the door and I
was not happy. The person on the other side was not
very happy either. In fact, she was extremely angry…
with me, I think!
“You! You stole my magic pearl!” the woman
screamed.
“Is it purple?” I asked innocently.
“Yes!” the woman shouted.
“Well it turned me into a cat and disappeared!”
I roared.
“Since you stole it, I must curse you,” she said.
“Um… you can’t curse someone who’s already
cursed,” I pointed out.
“True, true. I guess I’ll destroy the lighthouse
instead and lock you up… oh and the seagull too!”
she cackled.
I have decided she is an enchantress. I mean,
she acts like one and she uses magic. And of course
she owns a purple pearl. I still have the purple pearl
on my collar. I just didn’t tell her because I sensed
evil coming from her. A purple pearl can do good or
evil. She used hers for evil. Enough about pearls. The
enchantress locked me and Heather up, in a cave
under the lighthouse.
“Well how will we get out of this?” Heather
asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied sadly. My home was
about to be destroyed and I could not do anything
about it.
“Why don’t you try picking the lock with your
claws?” Heather asked.
So I tried and… it worked . We were out of there
and on our way up to the lighthouse. When we got
to the lighthouse the enchantress had begun casting
a spell.
“Heather, distract her!” I shouted.
Heather nodded and called her family over. I
ran to the enchantress’ spell book and tore out the
page and prepared to fight. The enchantress whipped
around to face me and lashed out with her sharp
nails. I dodged. I attacked her and she attacked me.
Suddenly the purple pearl began to glow. It was a nice
soft purple glow. I had an urge to throw the pearl at
the enchantress and tell her that I hated purple pearls.
So I did.
“I HATE PURPLE PEARLS!” I shouted with all
my might.
The enchantress was sucked into the pearl faster
than you can say “purple pearls.” Heather came over
to make sure I was okay.
“We did it!” I yelled in triumph.
“Let’s have a party to celebrate!” Heather
squawked.
We partied the night away. The lighthouse’s light
was flashing like a disco ball and Heather’s entire
family was there.
Afterwards I went and locked the pearl away.
That’s why you don’t mess with purple pearls.
Zoe Corcoran
Co Dublin
THE LIGHTHOUSE MAN
The lighthouse was creepy. End of story. Creepy. Just
creepy. The only part of it that wasn’t a total mess was
the light. Everywhere else was a gardener’s worst
nightmare. Ivy had crept up the sides and the red and
white stripes were now hardly visible underneath all
that moss. It was like a dead zone. Within five feet
of the lighthouse, there were weeds and dandelions
coming through the cracks in the charred concrete
pathway. Basically, the lighthouse was a wreck. It
would be a miracle if anyone were able to live in it for
a day, let alone years.
The thing is, somebody did live in it. His name
was Brock. He looked a bit like Hagrid from the
Harry Potter movies to be honest. He was a goliath
compared to the rest of the village. Brock towered
over everybody and he was intimidating. Really
intimidating. His face was rough and rugged. He
had a black eye patch and he hated strangers. His
other eye was an electric blue. He walked with a limp
and no one knew why. He wore brown shirts and
trousers. His hair was a bird’s nest, and again, he
hated strangers.
Everyone loved to make up stories about why
Brock was the way he was, but no one actually knew.
Once, the village journalist who writes for the Weekly
News, knocked on his door. He opened it and then
she started questioning him. Did I forget to mention
he had a dog? A huge, great, black, creepy dog. If I
had to choose which was creepier, Brock, or his dog,
I’d have my work cut out.
Some say he lost all his family at sea, others say
his family disowned him. While some other people
think that his whole family is just dead. When Brock
goes to the village to buy some bread from the bakers,
or some meat from the butchers, the whole place
just goes silent. You could hear a pin prick if you had
wanted to while he was there.
No-one knows who he is, if he’s even human,
and no one ever will know.
Ana Marie Kehoe
Co Antrim
THE LIGHTHOUSE’S SECRET
The Cullen family was on a two-week holiday on Crab
Island, named after the many crabs that occupied
the coastline. Mum, Dad, Daniel and Tom had visited
everything on the island - the beach, the forest, the
lighthouse tour, the local sweet shop and more.
Tonight, Tom couldn’t sleep. He shared a bedroom
with Daniel, who had fallen asleep immediately. So
Tom went to the window, opened the curtains and
stared out at the dark sea. The beautiful lighthouse
was shining its powerful beam. Then something
caught his eye. A movement in the water. Was it a seal
or a fish, or something more sinister? Tom waited for
the lighthouse light to go over the area, but it didn’t! It
seemed to go out then come back on after it passed.
“That’s strange,” said Tom to himself. “It must be
broken.” He went over and shook Daniel. “Wake up!
I need you to come. I think the lighthouse is broken!”
Daniel sat up. “Broken? Come on then, there are
lives at risk!”
They got dressed, crept passed Mum and Dad’s
room, and cycled up the path to the lighthouse on
their bikes. When they got there, they found the door
unlocked.
“Weird,” said Daniel. “The tour guide said that
they always lock the door.”
“It’s a lot creepier in the dark, isn’t it?” said Tom
as they went in.
Daniel nodded. Tom hit the light switch and
they were soon climbing the winding staircase up to
the gallery. When they opened the trapdoor beneath
the gallery, they were momentarily blinded by the
light, but shielding their eyes, they saw the problem
straight away. Someone had put a massive blackout
blind over part of the lantern pane. They removed it
and before long were back outside with their bikes.
“I wonder who put it there?” said Daniel
thoughtfully.
“Uhhh, Daniel?” said Tom.
“Yeah?”
“Is that boat coming ashore?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Daniel. “Quick, hide! We
shouldn’t be here.” Grabbing their bikes, the boys hid
behind some rocks.
They heard voices. “Come on, get the treasure
in the storage room and I’ll see why the blackout blind
has been removed.”
Treasure! They must be thieves and they put the
blackout blind up!
“Come on, we’ve got to tell Mum and Dad,”
whispered Tom.
They jumped on their bikes and sped home. A
police car was sitting outside and in the living room
their parents were talking to two police officers.
“Daniel! Tom! Where were you? We’ve been so
worried!” they cried.
“Never mind that now, there are thieves at the
lighthouse!”
Soon they were outside the lighthouse in the
police car. The officers went in and reappeared
dragging four men – three of them were in wetsuits
– by handcuffs.
It turned out the men had been using the
lighthouse as a hideout and had hidden in an unused
storage room when there were tours. The blackout
blind had stopped the light shining on their boat.
The boys had caught them in the middle of
stealing from an old and valuable wreck!
Andrew Johnston
Co Antrim