When I was in fourth grade I wrote a story about a Thanksgiving turkey who starts eating humans for thanksgiving until he is hit by a car right around where I ran out of paper. I'm pretty sure if I was a kid nowadays I'd be in some kind of institution.
In 3rd grade I wrote a story about my class visiting a haunted house for a class field trip. They all wound up dead in rather grisly ways (accidental hanging, stabbed by falling knives, falling into spiked pits, torn apart by dogs, etc.) except for me and the bus driver. I found out later they were seriously considering putting me in special education.