500 Words 2025/26: read a finalist's story from the 5-7 category

Remember, spelling, punctuation and grammar are not taken into account for a 500 Words story, therefore all the top 50 stories have been published how they were submitted.

The Colours of Autism by Annaiya K.D.

For Alaya, mornings were the best. The silence before footsteps and the smell of breakfast felt peaceful. She loved choosing which bows to wear and counting her seventeen steps downstairs. Then came school. The classroom buzzed with laughter and gossip that made her skin prickle. Her brother Max said she never speaks, but that wasn't true. Alaya just liked saving her words for when they mattered. Mrs. Percy, her teacher, said Alaya had autism and that her brain worked a little differently. Alaya liked her routines, eating the same lunch, sitting in the same seat, playing the same game each day. It made the world predictable, calm, and safe.One rainy evening, Alaya sat with her family watching raindrops trickle down the window. The pitter-patter was her favourite sound. Then her mum spoke softly, they were moving house. She had a new job in the city. Alaya froze. Change made her chest tighten and her thoughts twist. She stomped upstairs, slammed her door, and cried into her blanket.A week later, it was moving day. Everything felt wrong. Her old village had noise of singing birds and buzzing bees. The new city roared with barking dogs, honking cars, and shouting children. The house smelt of dust and car fumes instead of grass and rain. Alaya unpacked the few things that made her feel safe. Dolly, her knitted blanket that smelt like Grandma, and her noise-cancelling headphones. When she put them on, the chaos softened into a quiet hum. But then came the new school. It was faster, louder, and full of faces she didn't know. She tried keeping to the edges, but sometimes the noise still crashed over her like waves. Kids stared. Some whispered. She was the "weird" one who never spoke and always covered her ears.One day, Mr. Peters, her teacher, noticed. "Are you okay?" he asked gently. Alaya didn't answer, but he smiled. "Let's go to the library." The library smelt of books and printed paper. Alaya curled into a beanbag, breathing easier. It became her safe place.A few days later, when the noise of the playground became too much, she slipped back to the library. She opened a book about planets, big, quiet worlds that floated peacefully in space. Then George, a boy from her class, sat beside her. "I love planets," he said. "Can we read together?" Unsure how to answer, Alaya nodded. George pulled out his book about planes and automobiles. "They look loud," Alaya said. George laughed. "Sometimes I read about them when I'm tired." So they read together, her planets, his planes. Sometimes they even swapped books.The city didn't get quieter, but it stopped feeling so big. The sounds became like colours instead of noise, bright, busy, but no longer scary. Alaya still wore her headphones, chose her bows, and counted her seventeen steps each morning. Only now, when she reached the bottom, she smiled. The world wasn't noisy after all it was beautifully colourful.

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