Beginning with the idea that good writing comes from bad writing, my students in Teenage Novelist were challenged to write the worst story ever. I’ll be posting the results, beginning today.
The Story of How I Single-Handedly Fended Off A Zombie Attack
by Ban L., a.k.a Stormy D. L. B. M. M. Graves (also known as Isabelle Liu)
My name is Stormy Dragoness Lightning Blackie Midnight Mermaid Graves. I am 17 years old and I go to a school. I’m also like the most popular girl in school. But the one thing that they don’t know is that I’m a vampire that goes to school. Not like the school-attending Twilight vampires. I don’t sparkle. Instead, I glow in the dark.
“Zombie attack!” Someone says. People are running around like big bunch of dragons are chasing them. I’m also part dragon, too. I’m part dragoness, so I can fly and have impenetrable skin. I don’t breathe fire. Instead, I can snap my fingers and fire will appear in my hand. I can also control the weather. My favorite kind of weather is the stormy kind, so when someone ticks me off, I can call down a lightning bolt to fry them. I’m powerful like that.
A zombie comes walking toward me on the sidewalk. “Oogh,” he murmurs.
“Hi, Panther Quietus Darkness Nephilim.” I murmur. I know his name because I can read minds. I smile sweetly at him and use my gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, elegant purple wings to rise a few inches above the sidewalk. I flap them a couple times to make the zombie take the full force of my strawberry-scented armpit perfume. No one has ever been able to resist the heavenly scent of my strawberry-scented armpit perfume before.
The zombie smiles. “I like your strawberry-scented armpit perfume, Stormy,” he murmurs.
“I know, Panther,” I murmur back. I take him to a graveyard and bury him.
“Wait, Stormy!” The zombie murmurs breathily.
“Yes, Panther?” I murmur and flutter my long, glittery eyelashes gracefully.
“Let’s watch the stars and talk about love and life for a while, before you bury me, Stormy,” the zombie suggests, murmuring.
I murmur eagerly. So we lie on the lush green grass of the graveyard and talk about deep stuff like love and life.
Finally, I see the sun rising in the distance. “Panther Quietus Darkness Nephilim?” I murmur. (That’s the zombie’s name.)
“Yes, Stormy?” he murmurs.
“Kiss me, Panther,” I whisper in a murmur. And we kiss. Later, I bury him and cry and murmur over his grave.
Truly Awful Stories #1

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