10/10/2011 Dave Cryer

The Box of Hats


‘Are we doing the hats today, Miss Potts?’

‘We might do, Sarah, if there’s time.’

‘Oh go on Miss, let’s just do hats today. Let’s not bother with that haunted house rubbish,’ said Sarah’s best mate, Amy.

‘Haunted house rubbish? You mean my very carefully planned scheme of work which has been rolled out to the whole department and which every Year Eight class is calling the best bit of drama they’ve ever done?’

‘Yes, Miss, everything’s rubbish compared to your box of hats.’

‘Okay, we’ll do the hats. Sarah, here’s the stock cupboard key. You and Amy go and fetch my precious box.’

‘My precious,’ said Amy.

‘Precious,’ echoed Sarah.

As the box of hats was produced and the incoming pupils saw it, a ripple of excitement spread to the whole class and they rapidly dumped their bags and coats and pulled up their chairs into a perfect circle around the box of hats.


Views: 102

Comment by Natalie Sheehan on October 10, 2011 at 9:50


As Amy and Sarah joined the rest of the class in the circle, Miss Potts opened the box of hats, the class squealed with excitement. Everyone except Sarah and Amy exchanged looks of anticipation, for they were used to the wonders the box produced. After all, they were the creators of the hats: along with Miss Potts. From time to time, the class would harass Miss Potts, pleading for the hats’ abilities to be witnessed again.

 The hats had a power that only the children could desire: freedom, adventure and transport. Whenever a child would place the object upon their head, they’d be transported to their home of independence and historic journeys. The hats had the appearance of normal Halloween witches /wizards hats. They were made of green satin, decorated with a small silver broach, which represented a pumpkin.

Containing a power, unknown to most humans, the hat wasn’t any ordinary piece of headwear.  Like a pack of wolves fighting over meat, the class lunged towards the box, eager to be the first to jam a hat onto their head and show off their abilities the hat provided.  Nobody knew the secret that remained inside the hat, except the three creators. But little did they know,  their secret was beginning to be revealed.

By Emily and Niamh     

English Martyrs 

Comment by Anita Vine on October 10, 2011 at 10:47

By Anna. Pendle Vale College. Nelson

Once they had put on the hats, the class fell strangely silent. Amy and Sarah let unconsciousness wash over them, as the hats cast their spell. They knew the hats could give them a release nothing else could, as, unlike in every other drama activity, there was no need to pretend. The characters they played while wearing the hats were quite real. The class opened their eyes simultaneously. Amy and Sarah could finally relax, for they were Amy and Sarah no longer...

Elizabeth Saunders reclined gracefully on the strawberry-pink sofa. As her most intimate friend Gladys Redfern was to call any minute now, she called her maid to attend her. After all, she reasoned, there was no need to play down what little assets she had, especially now there was all this trouble over Daddy’s business. She couldn’t understand why Daddy’s lawyers had not already sorted it out. After all, the Prime Minister being the personal friend of Daddy could hardly be a bad thing! She remembered when he called to do business with her father and she had had to entertain his daughter. She had thought her quite ugly, just like her father. But quite a beauty of a dress! It was such a shame, mused Elizabeth that she, who combined such charm, natural grace and poise with such considerable endowments of mind, should not also be rich, just like the Prime Minister’s daughter. Why did fate bestow such wealth on such undeserving people as her? Oh, here’s Gladys...

Comment by WP Central on October 10, 2011 at 12:56

Gladys walked in slouching like usual with her big, chunky boots scraping along the floor.  I gave her a small smile, but Gladys’ purple lips didn’t move.  I know what Daddy told me but there was something about her. She made me feel different. I felt like a somebody.


Gladys pulled out her lighter, I’d told her not to so many times. I glared at her but she just sat down on the expensive, Italian sofa with her short green dress and fish net tights clashing with the red leather. She laughed mockingly as she stubbed it out on the carpet, smudging the black ash everywhere. Whilst doing so, she knocked my mother’s ornament off the coffee table and then kicked along the floor

Suddenly I heard a shout of rage, I cautiously turned around looking at my Dad, shaking with anger. He had been watching everything. My mother came to the door, looking at the floor in disgust. I was totally going to get it! Mother firmly gripped me by the shoulder and led me to the corner. I glanced over at Gladys who was looking at the floor smirking with delight. I couldn’t understand I thought she was my friend……………………………….

By Lizzie and Charlotte , The Hazeley Academy





Comment by Allison Painich on October 10, 2011 at 17:14

...Once they had taken the hats off, they were still angry with each other.  She realized that they were never friends.  This ended their friendship in real life.


After school, Amy saw Sarah smoking with Molly.  Sarah took out another cigarette in question, and lifted it up to Amy.  Amy declined.  Amy ran away in disbelief.  Once she reached home, she sat in the patio and thought.  She thought, while the crickets were chirping, about what happened to her kind friend.  She had to figure out what happened.


When she went back to schook, she figured out that Sarah had been expelled.  So, after this information reached the teachers, the teachers decided to send the whole class on a mission trip to Mexico.  Whlie in Mexico, the whole class realized what was morally correct.  Once they went back they never thought about smoking again.


Sachin, John, and Cole

St. Frederick's

Monroe, Louisiana, USA

Comment by Dave Cryer on November 1, 2011 at 10:22
Excellent. A real flight of the imagination. I liked the way that not only were the characters and their personalities picked up and carried on by you young writers, but also the style of writing was echoed too. There is some quite brilliant use of language in this - very well done!

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