Home Page

Writing-Portal Stories

In our writing unit we have been using texts to imagine a world through a portal. We were inspired by Alice in Wonderland and wrote ‘taster drafts’ thinking about how Lewis Carroll uses pace and viewpoint effectively.

What happens next?

Next, we read about Alice’s fall and how Carroll shows hopefulness and hopelessness within the text. We continued the text, attempting to mimic the style of the original writing.

Drink Me!

Our published 'Portal Stories'.

Can I include editing to publish my work?


She lay, bored on her bed without her usual fire. Why did they have to move to Paris? What was wrong with the British countryside? France was no fun at all. She began to turn her new life over in her head. She had no friends, could not speak French and she was cooped up in a little city apartment. Her heart yearned to run wild. She sprang to her feet. She had already done enough moping around. Enough was enough. She would simply go outside and get some fresh air, then slip back inside before anybody noticed. Before she knew it, she was through the door, over the creaky floorboard and down the lift. She stepped outside boldly. Her face turned as sour as a lemon when the horrible scene met her eyes. A crowd of people, too many pigeons and buildings wherever one looked.

She sprinted through the hustle and bustle of the city. For some reason, everyone around her looked the same. Grey and colourless. Soon, she found herself staring at an old telephone box. Oh, how she missed the fresh smell of flowers and the gentle munching of cattle. Tap! Tap! Tap! Went the people’s shoes on the pavement. How she despised that sound. It was harsh and sharp, not at all like the soft crunch of grass in summer. All she could think to do was find somewhere quiet to escape and dream of running wild. A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She approached the telephone box. Her hand turned the cold, brass handle without a second thought and she stepped inside. It smelt musty and old. Unlike anything she had ever smelt before. Closing her eyes, her mind drifted away from her, back to the country. She smiled at the memories.

Suddenly, her body began to tingle. Her eyes slowly opened to reveal a tunnel. She gasped, looking all around. In one direction was darkness and in the other was a glorious ray of sunlight. She already knew which way she wanted to go. She stumbled forwards, fingers reaching out tentatively. Something cold met her outstretched fingers. It was stone. A scratching sound echoed through the tunnel and she spun around to see. Nothing. It was pitch-black. The scratching continued and seemed to be coming closer, closer. Something was coming. She wanted to explore and find the source of the noise but her legs disagreed, carrying her towards the light. A gentle jog turned to a run, and that run turned into a sprint. The tunnel seemed endless. When she glanced behind her, she screamed in horror. The walls behind her were caving in! She quickly picked up the pace as the tunnel got brighter. She reached out with one arm towards the light, with the disaster on her heels. Finally, she burst out of the tunnel and collapsed in exhaustion. Her breath was heavy and her eyes were closed.

As she got to her feet, she gazed around her in wonder. Before her was a magical utopia. Rolling hills and a sparkling waterfall. Multi-coloured lights were strung welcomingly through the trees. Small things fluttered around and when she looked closer, she noticed that they were fairies. The next thing that caught her attention was a half human, half deer. It was a fawn. She watched it saunter through the forest. It already felt like home!


Katherine Kness


Can I include editing to publish my work?

He was sat by the rocks, scuffing his worn shoes on the smooth edge. Hoping for his preferred cousin to accompany him. Mind blank, he slumped over to the edge of the cliff, in aim to see below him. His eyes slowly peered over the grass, a soft stroke of wind touched his fringe and blew it back, allowing him to see the drop. He always hated the idea of falling but adored the idea of flying, trailing gracefully through the air, hair held back by the wind. However, that was not the case for now.

Gulping, he took a step back, his eyes closed. Breaths slowing down as he turned his back away from the drop and looked at his family talking, without him. He scuffed his foot, skimming a rather sharp stone, his eyes widened. Realisation rushed to his mind. Before he could realise, he had tripped himself backwards. In moments, his legs seemed to be floating, or rather, falling. He saw himself no-longer on the cliff but now metres below it. He opened his mouth to shout but it was soon filled with air. Falling, losing more and more breath as his minds yelled out. Every second, he fell deeper, he was shaking, hoping the fall would not end soon.

Hands jittering, he felt a loss of control in his limbs, like a puppet on a string. His muscles became sore as pressure continued and pain grew. The falling got quicker and quicker until his eyes became dry from gusts of wind pain was strong, hitting him every breath he took.

Closing his eyes, he accepted death and assumed to land soon. Until, something strange occurred to him. Falling had stopped. He seemed to be sitting. ‘Am I?’ he thought ‘Dead?’

In no sense of denial, he felt his surroundings. Soft, it was soft. A fluffy sort of soft. Slowly, his eyelids turned a bright yellow. Fluttering his eyes, he opened them. The sun stood demandingly before him, burning through his vision. He quickly turned away, only to realise, he was resting on a large cloud. With others doing the same.

A faint chant echoed in the gloomy distance. He noticed something, something strange, something unnatural. A man, sat, with almost his whole left arm transparent. “Sir?” he asked “Sir, I say, whatever has happened to your arm?” No response except a songful sentence, it matched the distant chants.  ‘The more you stay the more you fade’.

Rather unsettled, he looked down and saw his finger tip fading to dust. He never left from that day, he just faded. Like the others.

Bettie Lee


On and on the boy trekked. On and on he went. A cool breeze tapped him on the shoulder and sent a rush down his spine. He had been searching for hours, and now boredom dragged him down. Nothing exciting had appeared in his new domain just like his old one. He looked around – finding emptiness – apart from an old ornate gate which lead to an orchard. Surely that couldn’t provide him with more excitement than he had now. He debated with himself for a moment but then came to the conclusion it wouldn’t, so headed away.

Later on in the week, he found himself once again in that same position of curiosity. Ambitious though he was, he couldn’t force himself to do this. Against his own will it was, he just couldn’t do it. One step at a time. Thud. Thud. He thought with each one if this was a good idea. He may never come back. And then… BOOM! He was gone.

A whirlpool picked him up, and flew him into a haze of what seemed like… butter? Unable to gaze behind himself, he cried out – not knowing if that would draw some sort of attention. “Aaaarrgh!” he cried out again once more; then it just happened to stop. Everything halted. He opened his eyes. No more butter floated around him. Confused, he looked around. He froze. No longer lazily dragging himself along the wet fields of his godfather’s domain. He was nowhere. He gazed around once again, and caught a glimpse of a dappled light shining far off in the horizon. He waited some time for the same cool breeze to tap his shoulder; it didn’t come. BOOM anew world appeared before his eyes. The dappled light was coming towards him. But what was it?  Some sort of creature galloping towards him. A horse. Glinting in the sky’s sunset. Several minutes later it was by his side, snorting in his face. Seconds later the landscape had changed again – leaving a shattering shake. This time he didn’t like where he was. Home. The orchard had gone though. Unwillingly, he headed for the house, the place worth forgetting. The door creaked open flowing a solemn feeling over him.


Finley Ashton


Can I include editing to publish my work?


It was a gloomy day where the skies were pure black and boredom filled the room. She found herself lying on the dirty floor staring up at the ceiling. Maisy’s tummy rumbled jumping up she ran into the kitchen opening all the cupboard doors until she found the tin of biscuits. Taking one out Maisy shoved it into her mouth. There was no sound apart from the munching in her mouth. A smile spread across her face. Delicious!

Then something happened. She found herself to have stumbled into the cupboard. Confusion quickly came to her brain. “It will be a dead end” she thought to herself but the opposite happened.

She felt herself being teleported into a tornado with images spinning round her. It was the future. The strange thing about the whole thing was she wasn’t falling just spinning in the same position. Maisy could tell she wasn’t on earth but what was it. None of her thoughts could become certain. When she saw new things different feelings started to rise through her body. It had been ages since she entered this world as she started to wonder when she would get out.

Gently it started slowing until it finally…  Stopped. Suddenly there was a thud as Maisy fell to the ground. She suddenly decided to take this opportunity to explore this new world not thinking about the consequences.

“Lots of things are oddly similar” she thought carefully keeping these thoughts inside her head in case anyone else heard. As she was new to the world she hid and barley a single person noticed her.

For instance there were roads but no cars instead scooters from what it looked like. There were many more strange but still wonderful things to see. Maisy felt a chill of excitement climb up her spine as she set of into this new dimension. The biggest difference was there was no adults and children even had jobs. Sky scrapers towered over her making Maisy as small as a mouse. Every shop she saw she went in to discover getting more intrigued every time. New things big and small came before her eyes.  Now she had explored an adventure was about to begin.


Ella Pennington


Finally, she had made it. She was safe.


Or at least she thought it was.  This story was far from over. Exhausted, the ambiguous character leans back, slouched against a wall. Where did the wall go? It certainly seemed quite far away. Turning around, she cannot see anything. Only mist in place of the grey brick. “This seems like another adventure,” She thought, pleased secretly for more heart-stopping excitement. The mist parts as she tentatively steps through . . . then the floor parted.

Stars and cracks in time and space whizz by blurrily as she falls up.  Shattered glass whirls around her, building itself into a mirror before shattering once more, over and over, forever breaking and repairing. Fractured universes ripple around her, stars dancing in her wide eyes. Suddenly, a crack opens up and swallows the small girl whole.

Mist. That is all she can see … then a rancid wave of retching nausea smashes into her, choking her in an icy cold fog. “That’s the problem with adventures. You never know where you’ll turn up,” she muses, thinking it would’ve been much nicer if she could’ve landed in a different universe.

The drowsy fog clears and the journey taker can see how awful this new land is. Crumbled structures, all with disturbing posters stuck on, whispering “THE ORDER ARE WATCHING YOU,” litter the ground; Metal plates and boreholes filled with softly glowing gems the size of golf balls scatter along this rocky terrain. She can take them all… but she hesitates. All this feels wrong somehow. A creeping sense of dread starts eking towards her, a cold sweat breaks on her forehead. In the corner of her eye, dark shadows flicker. A steely shadow looms above. Turning around, she cannot see anything. But anything can see her.

A swirling ooze envelops the crystals, turning them black as tar with a blood red eye reflected upon the furious darkness.  Now the only source of light has been vanquished, this world is drowning.

It’s getting dark. Darker. Yet darker.

A voice calls out.

“Come on! Quickly! You’ll be safe in here!” 


Jude Ealey


She can’t go any further, her breath is heavy and her legs are sore. A knot in her stomach begins to form as she slowly sits down on and evergreen bench on the side of London’s streets.

In the corner of her walnut eye, she spots a flickering light. It is coming from Big Ben’s clock. She carefully stands up and wonders in is direction. As she finally reaches the clock tower, her inquisitive mind begins to hurry her legs up the thousands of steps; a wave of confidence rushes over her. Splat.

She trips over one of the black metal steps. Her confidence begins to fade away and she curls up on the step. “What have I done?” she murmurs to herself as she laces her head into her knees and begins to cry.

Suddenly a clatter came from the tower itself, her head shoots up from her knees at the sound of such a noise. The girl slowly comes to a stand, wipes her tears away and carries on her journey into Big Ben.

Finally, she gets to the top, a rat scurries past her feet and she spots the light in the clock, still flickering. As she steps forward closer and closer towards it carefully reaching her hand out to touch the flickering glass, But to her surprise it goes straight through, she jerks it straight out clutching it tightly. Her mind bubbles with questions and she feels the urge to find out more so she ever so slightly pokes her head through it, then her legs then her arms.

Soon she finds herself falling, further and further, either the clock was to deep or she was falling very slowly as she could very clearly see all her surroundings. In front of her a clock appeared, its hands span faster and faster. Smash. It broke into hundreds of pieces. Thump.

She landed on something soft and warm, like grass. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops as she finds her self-greeted by a mythical forest. The sky is lit with the northern lights and the trees glow in the wind. SWOOSH. A vivid pink light flashes past her face and she can’t stop herself from following it.

On and on she runs past the brightest of yellows and greens, past the oceans trickling tide, past the forest of delicate sage. Until finally it stops. The young girl, out of breath, slowly looks up. A dark forest lay in front of her and the once vivid pink light turns grey and shallow as it slowly drops to the ground. The excitement in her stomach begins to fade away as she looks deeper into the dark forest.

A deep howl comes with in it and the confused girl jogs back to the forest of light, holding the now grey light in hand.


Lexi Turner


Sitting alone, the playground swarming with children, the girls eyes were covered by her wispy black hair. Her clothes were ragged and rough along the edges. Her eyes were a milky dark brown and her hair trailed along the ground. She sat with her back hunched upon a wall. All alone in a wicked world.

Until she saw a tree. The girl slowly tiptoed to the edge of the gaping hole in the magical tree: leaves crunching at every step. Her body tingled with nervousness. Rapping each of her fingers around the dusty doorknob, she knew she couldn’t let go. Suddenly the door flung open wide and bird tunes whistled throughout her ears without giving it another thought she leaped through the creaky old doors to find. A field with grazing cows she strolled around. The girl took a deep breath. The air smelt somewhat fresher, cleaner.  The place was flooded with animals from left to right there was tangerine tiger and smoky grey rhinos this was the place of her dreams. She looked around to find more animals that are amazing but no humans…


Florence McCart