For our creative writing competition this, we partnered with Welland Park Academy and asked the young people to submit entries responding to the following briefs:
- “If you were to set up home on the moon, what would you bring with you, and what would you miss?”
- “Write a story about your 5-year-old self meeting your current self”.
This entry is by Scarlett Howard.
It was like a real dream. I was at Harry Potter World, again. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. There was no other sound. Harry Potter World was empty. Was I trespassing? And that’s when I saw her.
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?”
The little girl standing in front of me looked vaguely familiar with her blue eyes, sunlit brown hair and a confused little smile on her face, spreading across her rosy cheeks. I noticed a dimple on her left cheek, and it reminded me of my own…
“I’m Scarlett,” I whispered, puzzled at why she, a five-year-old girl, was the only person here, “Where are your parents?” I added, concerned, as I knelt to her level.
“My name is Scarlett too!” she squeaked.
“Oh! What a coincidence!” I squeaked back, pretending to act like everything was totally normal.
“Daddy told me never to talk to strangers.”
“What is your dad’s name?” I wondered aloud. I still don’t know why I said it, but she looked so familiar, too familiar, if you ask me. She reminded me of myself, in a way. I got my phone out of my pocket while she replied with “Jules” and I found a photo of my five-year-old self. Identical. The photo in my hands was identical to the girl in front of me. She was me. I was her. We were the same.
“I’ll give up whatever it takes so that I’ll never outgrow My Little Pony. Ugh, and grow to love Harry Potter.”
“Where are we?” she asked. She looked like how I felt, petrified.
“Well, we’re in Harry Potter World,” I said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She started talking about how she absolutely hated Harry Potter and found it so boring, but I wasn’t really listening. I was trying to figure out how my five-year-old self was in front of me.
“You are me,” I whispered, still trying to get my head around it as she stared at me blankly.
“Okay,” she agreed, “but explain why we are in Harry Potter World and not the Paw Patrol tower – ooh-ooh! Or Elsa’s ice palace. That would be amazing!”
I smiled. Remembering my previous obsessions, before I fell in love with Harry Potter.
“Tell me you still love Paw Patrol!” she demanded or rather I demanded.
“Err well, I – we, umm, grew out of it.”
“WHAT!?”
“Yeah…”
“You still love Frozen though, right?”
“Well of course, who doesn’t?”
I grinned at myself. I noticed that five-year-old me was gripping a Twilight Sparkle doll in her hands and my love to her came flooding back. She seemed to notice this and handed me the purple pony, “You can have it. I’ll give up whatever it takes so that I’ll never outgrow My Little Pony. Ugh, and grow to love Harry Potter,” she said as if Harry Potter was a vile and disgusting smell. She looked up at me with admiration.
I woke up.
Phew, it was a dream, I thought…… that’s when I noticed the familiar looking Twilight Sparkle in my hands.
