Where Have All the Children Gone?

8th Grade, 1st Place

by Della Swafford, Little Mill Middle School

The doorbell rang endlessly since the children were reported missing. The news was on, blaring in the living room. Flashing images of my friend group and all the photos we had taken last night swiftly changed on the screen. 

“Falyn, another officer wants to speak with you!” my mom shouted from the front door. 

“Got it,” I replied grumpily, already knowing what it was about. I walked from the couch to the front door. “Hello, I’m from the Forsyth Sheriff’s Office, and we need you to answer some quick questions.” 

“Again?” I asked. It was the sixth time someone had interrogated me. This time it was a detective. You could tell by the badge he had. 

“Yes, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” 

I recounted how my friends and I had gone trick-or-treating when we visited the king-sized candy bar house and got separated by the crowd. After retrieving my candy, I searched for my friends, but they all had vanished. The detective pried for more details, but that’s all I could remember. 

“If you recall anything else, notify the police immediately,” the detective said before leaving. My mom shut the door as I fled to my room. 

“Honey, are you alright?” my mother asked, following me. 

“Just still a little queasy from reminders of last night.” I tried to strain thoughts of losing them out of my brain. My mother tries to confront me, then leaves to avoid making matters worse. Struggling to stay calm, I called my friend Anastasia, who was in a similar situation. 

“Hey, Anastasia, how are you?” 

“Good, I’ve had to talk a lot today.” Anastasia couldn’t join us last night due to illness but was interrogated anyway. Her voice was raspy yesterday, but she sounded adequate now. 

“Can I come over?” I asked, wondering if it was allowed by the police. 

“Sure, if you can. It was just a sinus issue,” said Anastasia, her voice strangely panicked 

“Okay, be right there,” I replied before hanging up. I suspected my mother wouldn’t let me go, so I snuck out the window. Arriving at Anastasia’s house, I entered through the front door, unconcerned as her parents were often away and she had no siblings. 

“Anastasia, I’m here!” I called, “Anastasia?” No reply. I walked into the basement where she usually hung out and saw the costumes my friends wore last night, stained with red crimson blood. What had she done? I quickly hid in the closet, putting all the pieces together in my head. 

“Last night, I was going to get you too, but I couldn’t find you,” Anastasia growled, “Your turn!”

I closed my eyes, thinking of how this night went into a complete horror-fest. I was a pawn in whatever sinister actions Anastasia partook in. The closet grew darker as Anastasia’s cold breath lingered in the basement air, and the reality of my predicament closed in. What had happened to my friends? And what was the terrible fate that awaited me in this cruel game?