We asked for stories, poems, spoken word pieces, comics, videos or other pieces of writing in Scots that were under 1000 words or five minutes and were delighted by the brilliant entries. Our judges – Scotland's Makar, Kathleen Jamie, and Scots writer Thomas Clark – selected their winners and we're proud to announce them below.
Eva McMillan, age 13, for her story Juliet n Juliet. Read an extract from the winning story below.
Lucie Sutherland, age17, for her story Fan I Wis Wee.
Cara Slavin, Georgie Steven, Liam Roe, Teagan McLeod
Enjoy an extract from our winning story
Content warning: please note that the following passage contains contains derogatory and offensive terms used within a creative context.
Juliet n Juliet
by Eva McMillan
'Ye look gorgis hen,' ma maw exclaims as she sighs tae hersel.
A stood in ma new uniform. Wae a few Iv mae ein touchees av course but still mostly stickin tae the dress code. Creativ soul ma maw calls me.
'Aw look at ye staunin there belle o the baw! Right you best be off, lass before you miss the bus!' Ma maw tells me.
A leave the house shivrin. Ave only a hoodie own. N it's bloody Baltic a say. I stood waitin at the bus stop fir a minute er two before the big bus came carelessly swervin roun the corner. The exhausts rumbled as it came tae a stop n the gas filled ma lungs along wae the frosty air. A stepped cautiously on observin everyin. The scruffy eld driver n the rugged wrecked bus. Soon as a stepped own. Whoosh! A wis blasteed wiv sweaty humid air. The bus wis heavin!! Mere and mere piled own but naebdy sat wi me. Till the last stop. The Bonniest lass a ere did see struts aboard n smiles at me as she takes up the unoccupied seat next to me. A smile back iv course. She's a chavvy lookin girl but a glanced at her phone n shes listenin tae ma type iv music. N tae be 'onest A consider masel tae be alternative in terms iv fashion and in terms iv music taste. seems cool.
Long broon hair wi yella highlights, a skirt alfway up er arse, a strong smell of Victoria's Secret n a sleeveless leather jacket over her shirt. She’s proper fit fir a chavvy lass. Sweet face, caked in makeup n tan she dinnae need but she's beautiful.
She gets up and let's me overtake er instead of leavin me tae fend fir masel wi all the shuvrs n such. Kind iv her. At break A sit alane. It's ma first day. New school. New hoose. New neighbourhood. Nae pals. . . a see a group eh lassies makin eyes at me and laugin. Ave alwis been an optimist so A unrealistically assumed they were interested in bein ma pal. A wis wrang though. Wan of em ran up the stair n seconds later she wis above me Wi and opened bottle of juice. THUD. SPLASH. She dropped the bottle n it explodeed all ere me. Head tae toe n sticky red juice. They all laughed n filmed me mercilessly. A starteed tae wail. A felt so pathetic n stupit. Then she stormed ere.
'Awk darlin. . . what ave they done tae ye?' It wis the lass fae the bus. She knew a wis sticky and soakin but she comforted me and hugged ma heed intae er breast. She caressed ma face and wipes ma tears.
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Young Scots Writer o the Year Awardis run in partnership with Hands Up for Trad, Scots Hoose, Education Scotland and Scottish Government.