Read the winning works from Mayor's Writing Competition

Here are the winning pieces in each age group presented in full.

Tuross Head - My Magic Place by Emilia Klekowska

Hi,

My name is Emilia. I live in a magic place called Tuross Head. This place is very special to me because I can enjoy a beautiful view every day. I really love to watch the sun rise over the ocean and Coila Lake. Sometimes when I walk to the bus stop I can see a group of kangaroos jumping down the Coila Avenue. I like to imagine they are walking me to the bus stop.

Tuross Head is a magic place because you can go to many different walks. You can choose a beach walk and climb the rocks. You can build a cubby from drift-wood and pretend you are a pirate. You can also seat on a log and look in to the ocean. If you will be lucky, you might see the dolphins jumping out of the water. This is pretty magic view.

If you like walking you can go hiking in to the bush. Tuross Head offers many beautiful walks. My favourite walk is Binge Dreaming Track. I start to walk in Tuross Head and finish my walk in Binge. Hiking in a bush is so much fin. You can see a lot of Australia's native animals and plants. I always look on the mighty gumtrees and look for kookaburras. When you go bush hiking you have to wear protective clothes and hiking shoes. You must be careful to not step on a snake, he might bite you. When I go bush hiking, I like to take a stick and pretend it is my wand. I magic both of my brothers into a frog, ha ha.

If you really want to know what's so magic about Tuross Head I will tell you in secret. It's people. Most of the people in Tuross Head are nice and friendly. We all are looking after each other. For example, my mummy drove our neighbour John to the hospital when he was sick. My mum always says we have to be kind to each other. I love to live in Tuross Head. I am only six years old and I know I will travel the world. I will live in many different cities, maybe even in different countries but Tuross Head will always be my magic place.

Thank you for listening about my magic place.

Street Magic by Zara McCarthy

"Ladies and gentlemen, our show's about to begin!" Ash was gathering an audience for her magic show, in a cobblestone alleyway in the city. Passers-by stopped to watch Ash and her 17-year-old brother, Izac.

Now, for their first trick.

Ash took off her jet-black top hat, revealing her auburn hair, and placed it on a table. Izac waved a wand, tapped the hat and pulled out a dove!

"That's not right!" he said, his hazel eyes following the dove as it flew into the blue, cloudless sky. Ash shot him a look. She reached into the hat and pulled out her black rabbit, Carrots. As the crowd cheered, Ash heard coins dropping into their tip bucket.

After Ash and Izac's parents died in a car crash, they'd been busking in dingy city laneways. With no other close relatives, they had to fend for themselves. But today's show didn't bring in much money... and they were running low.

As Ash was packing up, the afternoon sun glinted on a nearby window... and a poster. She hadn't noticed it before.

It announced: Have a unique talent? Audition at the City Theatre TALENT SHOW for the chance to win $1000!

Ash called over Izac and Carrots. "We could win $1000!" she said. "That would buy us food for months!"

"Are you sure, Ash?" said Izac. "You're only 11. But we did learn great tricks from Mum and Dad and you've always been freaky good at magic. We could give it a go."

"Ash, you're next!" called a stagehand at the theatre, where Ash was about to audition.

She turned to grab her magic kit, but it wasn't where she left it. Ash started to panic. Without her kit, she couldn't audition. She and her brother needed that prize money. This was bad.

Wait! Ash saw footprints on the dusty floor of the side stage, leading to a trapdoor.

"Aaaaahhhhhh!" She opened it and fell head-first onto the floor below.

Ash let her eyes adjust and could see she was in a storeroom. It smelled musty. She felt dust gathering on her magenta cloak. In the corner was her magic kit! Ash heard a noise and turned to see her brother.

"Izac!" she said in shock. "Did you take my kit?

Izac looked ashamed. "I'm sorry Ash. I thought I should be the one to win the money for us. You're so good at magic. But I'm your big brother and I should take care of you."

Ash felt a tingle in her fingers but ignored it because she was so confused. She blinked hard and suddenly, she was standing on the spotlit stage with Carrots and Izac. Carrots slowly opened his tiny mouth. "Maaaaaagic!" the little rabbit said.

Izac looked alarmed. "How did we get here Ash? And WHY is

Carrots talking?!"

"Ash IS magic!" Carrots said. "That's how I can talk. That's how we're all on the stage right now!"

Amazed, Ash looked down at her hands. Her veins seemed to shimmer, the lightest, sparkly blue. "You mean I'm not just a fake magician? I'm truly magic?"

Izac and Carrots smothered Ash in a hug. "I think our luck is about to change!" Izac said.

Ash smiled widely for the first time in ages. "I'm going to show the judges something they've never seen before!"

She raised her hands, took a deep breath, and prepared to start her show...

The Keys to the Spiritual World by Maizi Minihan

The sun beams across the hill side as the grey clouds appear. Grass sways side to side whilst the dreadful cliff slowly starts to crumble into the water. The gloomy ocean crashes into the cliff's ridge, pushing the water in and out. The cool breeze blows onto my skin, making me tense up as I start to shiver at the stunning view.

"Hurry up!" Tilly shrieks while waiting for Kayla, Billy and I.

I reach the edge of the hill side as the sky above me starts to cry. Clouds thunder,

signalling the rain to begin. The water is ice, hitting us repeatedly until our backs throb. We search unsuccessfully for shelter as the frosty wind howls, swirling around us like a small tornado.

Unexpectedly the ground starts to shake, making us fall to our knees. 'What's happening?" Kayla screeches. The ground begins to cave in causing us to free fall into a mysterious glowing tunnel. We toss and turn, before pounding onto the ground.

I swiftly stand up and look around to see an enormous castle made of gold. The castle is tall and wrapped in a wall. As I approach, two wooden doors with strange carvings slowly swing open, leading me into a village full of vibrant people with different colored auras glowing around them.

"Where are we now?" Billy asks in confusion, "I think we're in some kind of spiritual

world" I reply. We walk toward a small girl, her aura changes to a pearl colour then back to a lighter shade of lilac. It was odd. This was a stranger to me, yet her face felt familiar. We continued walking, getting closer to the entrance of the kingdom. Strangely I knew I would meet that girl again.

Upon reaching the kingdom a mysterious woman greeted us. "I've been expecting you. I'm Ramiel, the angel of Hope. I received a letter from God saying you've been chosen to save the Spiritual World." Ramiel guided us through the golden kingdom to a door that had the same strange carvings as the previous door. After a minute of inspecting the door Ramiel whispered a passage before the door opened. "In this room are seven doors each representing the Spiritual Worlds of Love, Wisdom, Kindness, Peace, Faith, Bravery and our world, Hope. On the table are seven keys, each will open the Spiritual World. You must place each key into its rightful place. If you are unsuccessful, every world will be doomed." Confused, we gather around the table.

Cautiously I take the key for Love and stare at the doors. I place the key in a door with a symbol of a heart. Next I grab the key for Peace and match it to the symbol of a Dove. Suddenly I only have two keys left when the floor cracks and the walls smash to the ground, almost crushing us. Will we have time to save the Spiritual World and get out of here?

The Cottage in the Wood by Ruby Southan

No-one saw me walking alone in the wood, crying out for help.

No-one knew that I was swiftly whisked through a front door, by mysterious and bony welcoming hands. Those deep blue eyes took me to another world, a haunted world.

The sudden change from light-to-dark hit me with a temporary blindness. A chilling shiver slowly crept up my spine. The world seemed to be a light year away in this isolated cottage. Like a sieve this creepy hideout seemed to strain out the light and joy, leaving only darkness and blackness behind.

Once my eyes had recovered I looked curiously around at my surroundings. The cottage had a simple set up with a tidy-looking fire place and a neat but small kitchen. A purple hearth rug sat at front of the fire like an obedient dog and a wooden chair was placed on top of it with immense precision, like a cake decoration. A pot of what I think was soup that smelt like decaying meat was sizzling and bubbling over the great. And a small, black cat sat on the rug next to the chair, its tale swishing back and forth. I took a step forward to look at it but the cat hissed, showing off its pearly white fangs. I gasped and stepped back. "Shut it Claus", screeched the lady. The cat, clearly embarrassed, fell silent and went back to swishing its tale. The lady than turned to me and winks with a marvellous twinkle in her eyes and gestures for me to sit down.

The chair she offered was not a luxurious and comfortable lounge, nor was it the warm wooden chair next to the fire, it was but a rickety old wooden chair with nails sticking out, that sat tucked away in the comer of the room among some cobwebs. I was beginning to regret asking this strange woman for help. "Maybe I should leave ..." I started to say but there was a not at all innocent reply, ''No, no, no darling. Stay right here". Then the lady went over to a purple cupboard and came back with a more comfortable seat. Another wooden one but this time with a magenta coloured cushion hastily stuffed between the wooden beams at the back of the seat. The lady then placed it promptly on the rug beside the other wooden chair and gestured again for me to sit down. Reluctantly I perched, gracefully on the edge of the seat.

"So what's your problem dear?" the lady creaks in a worn and weary voice as she plops down in the chair next to the fire. She looks under her seat and pulls a box seemingly filled with wool and knitting needles. I take this opportunity to run away because it seems like the best option. But just as I'm standing up, the lady, clearly realizing I wasn't going to answer her question, remained surprisingly calm and pulled out a purple and gold decorated beaded bag from the box. From the bag she withdrew a copper-plated small cauldron. And then, I feel it. I don't know exactly what it is, but I feel something wonderful, mesmerising and magic bouncing around inside me, yelling out that this is going to be the most extraordinary experience of my life. My curiosity takes the better of me. "Why on earth would you need that?" I ask. My voice sounds horse and dry, it feels like the first time I've spoken in years. "I'm a witch", the witch replies. The answer had clear as crystal the whole time but that didn't make me a bit less shocked. "A WITCH!" I exclaim. The witch cackles, "You can call me Ella".

And with that Claus jumps up onto the old witch's lap and suddenly I defiantly think this poor old lady is good.

And that was exactly what the witch wanted me to think...

"Oh Claus, you know that now Whippy will want to sit on my lap too!". "Who is Whippy?", I find myself saying before stopping and thinking about it. "Oh that's easy girl. Here boy! Come on, you lovely dog you, Whippy!" A beautiful blue-grey whippet runs through the house and clambers onto Ella's lap, squashing her a little. Ella laughs and gives Whippy a pat, but in her eyes I can see a flash of red hot anger. A lingering thought creeps over my shoulder; it's so close I can feel its heavy breathing, What if this lady is not who she seems. As if this thought was a fly, I swatted it and squished it flat. There is no time for worries now. I join in with Ella laughing, but my heart doesn't feel as full of magic as it did before.

The Tale of a Traitor by Bella Morris

Death hurts solely because people decide that it should. They decide you should cry. Tear your hair out. Scream. But death, like life, has no inherent meaning. It simply just is. A fact. A state of mind. There is no need for any of the theatrics. No need to tear yourself up about it. I've found that if you simply just ignore it, and everything you've been taught, death can be something quite mundane.

Well, other people's deaths anyway. I'm not dead yet but considering all the things I've done to prevent it, I'm pretty sure that I feel differently about it. I think I first started thinking about death this way when I stood over the corpse of Leta Labelle, one of my childhood friends. I thought that it would hurt more than it did, killing her that is, but really it was nothing. Initially, there was a swelling of feeling. An ache. A pain. But then I made myself STOP.

Stop.

Stop it.

It doesn't mean anything. Doesn't hurt. You just think it does. You've just been taught that it does. That isn't how you really feel.

In the end, her death had seemed quite dull. Like there really ought to have been more to it. I stood over her, her eyes staring up at me, blank, unseeing, and knew that I would do it again. If it was necessary. If I needed to. If it kept me alive. Because that mattered, that always mattered.

I mattered.

That is why I did this. It's why I joined the dark side in the first place. I didn't want to be part of this war of magic in the first place, which is probably why it was so easy to switch sides. I simply just didn't care. It was also one of the many reasons I was growing tired of my friends. Especially Castor and Xavier. Listening to those two idiots suspect one another and giving each other credit for my work. It made me hate them even more than before. At first, I had taken it as a compliment, that they didn't think that I could turn on them. l quickly realized that wasn't what it was. They hadn't underestimated me, they had simply just forgotten about me. Forgotten to consider me at all. I was a non-factor. Too lowly to even be suspected.

The dark queen on the other hand never forgot about me. She corresponded with me frequently and smiled whenever I came to visit. After three years of faithful service to her, she revealed my identity to her highest-ranking followers, forcing them to acknowledge me for my devotion to the cause. When there were meetings I would sit at the head of the table next to her. I was always greatly rewarded.

It was impossible not to notice me.

Not to see me.

Still, it was never my intent to give James up. At least not at first. He was always my favourite and the love I had for him was unmatched. I used to think he was the sun. He was my first ever friend. He was the one who introduced me to the world of magic in the first place. For a while I had become quite devoted to him again, visiting often, delivering whatever it was he and his wife Rosalie needed, and playing with their daughter Andy. Honestly, I had seriously started to reconsider things. Clearly, James was coming around, seeing me the way he had when we were kids. Before we met the others. Before I faded into the background.

I mattered.

But more and more time went by and I started to notice that all James wanted to talk about was the others; Xavier, Castor, Leta, Alice, Fabian. It was never about me. I had come up with thousands of excuses I could use to explain all my frequent absences and strange behaviour but not once did I ever need them. No one asked where I'd been or what I'd been up to. No one knew how I spent my time. Not even James.

Yes, James was my best friend but I was no longer his, I hadn't been for a long time so though it took a few months to decide I did eventually turn him over to the Dark Queen. We planned that I would go with her so we would be able to get through the wards without setting off any alarms and at first, I thought I was ok with this. I thought that after all the betrayal it would be easier but the closer we got to his house the more I started to worry which is why I offered to stand outside and keep guard and thankfully I was granted

permission to do so. "I will not screw this up for her," I thought as I stood against the wall, but as each second went by the less sure I was about this. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore and rushed inside and up the stairs. As I was running I was stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a flash of light and soon after there was a loud thud and I just knew I was too late.

I had expected the same grey feeling as I'd felt with Leta. I thought that maybe this would be even easier as I wouldn't be the one pulling the trigger. And yet. At exactly 6:47 pm on December 25th 1981, my world had dimmed. All the colours seemed to dim and the world had become much less vibrant. The food I ate was less tasteful. Every song, every book, every touch duller. Each day that went past was just...less.

I was certain I was making it up.

Certain.

But what I could not deny was that no matter how high I pulled myself out of the muck and dust of the war, no matter how close to the top I got, I knew that I would never be able to feel the sun again.

Murmuration by Kasarni Small

Golden rays pressed long shadows from the stands of trees scattered about, whilst simultaneously rich reds and oranges curled into the sky. Cicadas screeched and the citronella candles on the porch flickered with the wind, doing their best to keep the mosquitoes away. Sophia's colouring book was forgotten next to her, textas littering the couch around her, the ice in her lemonade melted.

The soft sounds of ice being pushed against glass joined the gentle noise of the breeze, as her mother struggled to slurp the few remaining drops of lemonade, her cheeks hollowing out in an exaggerated movement. Sophia giggled and copied her actions, her own lemonade diluted by the melted ice. Sophia huffed as she moved the straw around her glass, the puff of air causing her straight bangs to fall over her eyes.

She had begged for weeks and weeks and weeks for bangs after seeing her mother thumbing through magazines plagued with models and their beautiful bangs. Her mother said she'd cut them only if Sophia promised that she would love them. And Sophia promised. So obviously now she couldn't express how much she hated them- after two weeks they were tickling her eyes and falling into her vision at any movement she made.

Thump.

Peering up- through her bangs- from her battle with the last drops of watery lemonade, Sophia followed her mothers' gaze to the small bundle of brown hues that now joined them on the porch. The bird's ghostly silhouette etched into the clear glass of the window, a moment in time. Frozen.

A small gasp barely left Sophia's lips before her hands slapped against her mouth, as she pushed the textas and pencils and books aside, knees scraping along the timber porch as she approached the bird. It twitched and struggled on the ground as Sophia hovered over it, calling and crying in small chirps, chirps that once graced Sophia's ears in the morning. Her mother let out a sigh, her lemonade placed down with a click against the timber. She picked up the small bird, another deflated sigh leaving her lips as she noted the small dash of blood under its right wing. Sophia hovered over, cooing. She'd never been this close to a bird before.

Her mother took the bird inside, more sighs and murmurs of how she 'didn't have time for this' as she placed it in a tea cloth. Sophia fluttered around, fixated over the small form that laid in coloured fabric- she could already picture it snuggled up in her room, waking her up with its beautiful melody.

So she begged.

She begged and begged and begged her mother as she washed up the lemonade glasses, suds and bubbles flicked up into the air as her mothers movements got more and more exasperated at her daughter's begging.

'Fine!'

Her mother turned around, hands wiping vigorously against the tea cloth as she repeated the word again in irritation. Sophia bounded over to her mother who sent a deflated look towards the fragile bird, its shallow breaths barely moved its chest up and down before she glanced over to Sophia's gleaming eyes.

'Love will be the death of you.'

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Clouds lazily breezed across the open expanse of blue sky as Sophia pulled on her bright pink gumboots, her tongue poking out as she set off on her mission.

Foraging.

Remembering her mothers stern words, Sophia followed the dirt path that idly wove itself through the green meadow, as the gentle wind flowed the stalks in bonny waves like a green sea dotted with spring flowers. The meditative buzz of a small bee attracted Sophia's attention towards the dancing flowers. The bee sang its way through the spring haze, stopping briefly on a bright red flower.

Birds and bees, Sophia had always heard those mentioned together.

After tugging gently at the fuzzy stem of the flower, Sophia delicately placed the bright flower into the make-shift basket of her shirt, before she continued her search under the soft spring sun.

By the time she returned home, the pink gumboots had melded into a brown colour, splashed with brown sludge from her trek through mushy meadows. Sticks, cotton balls, grass, fur, leaves and feathers now piled up in the small shoebox her mother had given her, currently sitting out in the sun as the pink paint dried. Large, clumsy capitals were outlined with a purple glitter that had taken Sophia hours;

Ariel.

Sophia felt quite proud of the name, even if it technically was a girl's name and her little bird was a boy. However, it was from her favourite movie- The Little Mermaid, her and her mother had sat and watched that movie countless times, as their mouths mimed along with all the words. Ariel had lost her voice, and then her voice was healed with magic. Her little bird was injured, and just like the magic in The Little Mermaid, her little bird would heal too.

Pressing her thumb to the paint, Sophia carefully picked up the small box, the contents tottering from side to side as she bounded through the house. The teetering box was placed on the edge of the desk, as Sophia peered into the patterned tea cloth her mother had gotten out the night before. The small bundle of feathers laid still, and the wheat bag was now cold under Sophia's touch as she shimmied the small birds form onto her palm. Ariel let out a small chirp, making Sophia giggle before she puffed out her warm breath on him to keep him warm.

Feeling his wings fluttered under her hand, Sophia placed him gently into the nest, his body propped up on a small bed of carefully-placed cotton balls. The small ramekin of water in the corner sloshed around as Sophia shuffled the box across the desk to the sliver of sun that cut through the room, closely lining up the shard of light with Ariel's body. She tinkered around with the contents of the box, before pressing a small kiss to the head of the bird.

Muffled chirps came in small bursts from the avenue of trees that were scattered outside her home. Ariel let out a small tweet, a weak sound accompanied with a struggle as he tried to stand. Sophia rushed out of the room, small feet pattering against the sun-warmed wood as she ran into the kitchen, wheat bag clutched tightly in her hand as she flung it into the microwave.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Tossing the now-hot wheat bag between her two hands, Sophia wove through the hallways towards Ariel. Her mother followed as per Sophia's request- she just had to see how good her Ariel looked in his new nest.

His body was limp. Still warm. But limp. There was twitch beneath the surface - the imitation of life. Or else a stubborn ghost, the flicker of feathers, still poised for flight.

Her mother's eyes held something grave. A solemn reflection of the bird, its eyes black liquid, belly up.

Sophia's eyes held tears. An understanding filled them.

Magic isn't real.

Love will be the death of me.