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By Lucy Tirahan Week 14 was called 'Creativity Defined'. Unfortunately, this was the last session for this academic year. The starter activity was to write a piece based on the stimuli of pictures showing broken glass and the main activity was to complete a personal short story which I had given them a couple weeks to work on. I decided to end with personal short stories so the students had the freedom to use all of their skills in a way which they were passionate about. I have enjoyed working with them so much and seeing them develop as writers. Look out for our anthology hoping to be published in the summer which should include all the pieces they have written since September. They have all achieved so much and I hope they continue with their writing as it is a true testament to their creative personalities. Thank you for reading. With just one touch Delicate are her petite hands But do not underesti- Mate, for the Robustness within continues To consolidate Bad luck they all taunted Witchcraft was what she dwelled in Said their deceitful Mouths What kind of Family? What species of Friends? We all thought they were there Right till the end Trapped she is, Restrained from their mocking Glares in somewhere where It is to be her end Her reflection to be seen wherever she Went So solitary, desolated and confined A prisoner who committed no Crime It was a secret within, Not to be shared That all glass she fixated at Would crack into shrines The word still chant in her head As she shrivels beside the glass walls all those year Of tears ‘I’m so ugly That when I look into a glass… It cracks…’ Ayesha The Glass Girl I am fragile; you must handle me with care. Even just a few nasty words can shatter me And rough handling can cause me to end up in shards. Cracks run down my body, symbols of my hard times. Ria Shattered Glass I stood there unaware, That my dreams, Had disappeared, All shattered, So small, You can’t repair, The glass shattered In pieces, Like my dreams have ceased, To exist, I wanted no harm, But harmed myself, And was left in pieces, Of unfixable glass, My dreams gone at last. Harsimran Broken Glass Such a pure substance clear and glistening no longer, to think it could be beaten by all, even those who aren’t much stronger. By one single blow it’s shattered like hopes and dreams, the crashing of the shards are like a thousand screams. Like glass my trust is broken because I have been tricked, And like broken glass my heart can never be fixed. Manav Activity 2: Personal Short Story Frank Failsalot by Manav This is the epic fail… I mean epic tale of Frank Failsalot. We shall start this story with his child hood. On his fifth birthday, Frank was taken to Bela Italia to have a scrumptious meal, instead of experiencing a wonderful time at the party, he was in fact able to burn his extremely tiny eyebrows off with the one minute candle flame. He also totally obliterated the cake with his completely bald infant head. To top it all off while face down in the cake Frank overloaded his nappy again (yes he still wears a nappy because quite frankly his record breaking amount of accidents spoke for itself) and this one was so huge it caused an explosion; talk about explosive diarrhoea. His parents then had to pay for the massive amount of reconstruction, the guest’s fabulous outfits and most importantly extra strength, durable and nuke-proof nappies; because there is bound to be another boom boom. That's not the worst one, on his first day of nursery, Frank went to Hounslow Heath Infants and during break time (the best time of the entire day if you ask me, no offence to the immensely interesting lessons), Frank miraculously managed to encase his own hand in thick brown clay; which was extremely annoying to remove, trust me. He was even stupid enough to get himself wedged in between the short green walls of the alligator slide, on the far side of the playground, most kids decided to laugh and be horrid rather than be nice and call the teachers; but to be fair it was very funny. The fire department then had a long talk with Frank about his burger and doughnut intake; trust me, he needed it, (# failed diet). There were very few trips to Bob’s treat emporium after ‘the talk’, and it was worth it. But however many times Frank Failsalot messed up, the biggest one seemed to have a happy ending, and he failed millions of times, allow me to show you. One blissful day Frank was at work at Sid’s Steaks and while trying to grill the tender slabs of meat he made the (slightly moist) steaks catch fire and burnt the building to the ground, (talk about well done steaks). When he was running for dear life Frank slipped on a napkin and went flying into the shark tank, where the sharks almost had him for their dinner, but he was rescued in the nick of time by the Head chef. In the heat of the moment Frank decided to help the courageous fire fighters by using the hose but he underestimated the power and went crashing into Melena Messup who tried to catch Frank but then messed up completely. Even though they both ended up in the hospital with severe injuries, they fell in love at first sight. Later, they got married, went on to have a lovely family and lived happily ever after despite the daily messes & misshaps. The End. Insterella - A Twist in Time by Ayesha Later in the future, there will be a beautiful teenager named Cinderella living in New York, Manhattan. Plaited in a French braid would be her silky blonde hair, complementing her fair, flawless and delicate complexions. Emeralds will be her enchanting eyes and heart-warming will be her classy pout. Humble, kind and well- spoken she will be but sometimes the happiest of people with the most abundance of etiquette don't always live a perfect, well-deserved life. Her beloved mother will pass away with blood cancer when she will be a few months of age, leaving her father depressed and widowed. Despite being showered with fatherly love, Cinderella will always feel the missing presence of her mother. Her father, who will be a very wealthy man, owner of Samsung, will yearn to fulfil the lack of a mother's love so he will go on a blind date with a lady called Desdemona and will fall instantly in love with her. Desdemona will not go on that date due to genuine love but due to selfish greed of wealth. She will continue to spike alcohol and love potion to any drink he drinks so he will unknowingly marry her into richness. Utilising her second husband's wealth, Desdemona lavishes herself and her real daughters with vacations and sprees herself with SPA days, jewels and fashion lines, taking full custody of his debit and credit cards. Impatient with the burden of her second husband's grief and boredom she will decide on getting rid of him once and for all. She will make as though she is going to take a selfie with him on the cliffs of Devon but cunningly will nudge him to a brutal death. Cinderella will take care of the mansion and slave her ugly step sisters and stepmother who will treat her like junk mail. Her stepmother will oblige her to sleep in a storage room, in the worst designer nightgown colour ever: Yellow! There is one life support system that will help Cinderella survive, the iPhone 7s+ that she will find in the drawer of unused, outdated phones and secretly own. Hating her 'old age' name she sets her username as 'Insterella' on all her social medias as her favourite social media will be Instagram where she posts pictures of her in her conventional waitress dress, which to her surprise her 5 million fans don't recognise as her low-standard status. One day, a snapchat invite will be sent to all the ladies in Manhattan. ‘Yo! Daniel Radcliffe the charming here. I invite you ladies to my nightclub tonight, I'm looking for a stunning fiancé, and guess what? I'm paying the hefty entry price of all you pretty ladies and handsome gents out there, so don't mind coming along!" Cinderella will be ecstatic to receive this news, her true love would take her away from this prison she will believe. Instantly, she uses her iPhone 7s+ and will redeem her mum's forgotten Ted Baker dress when the dress will be delivered to the door the ugly stepsisters will snatch the dress and will shred the dress to bits, leaving Cinderella in disdain, unable to go. They will crackle and jeer at Cinderella, tweeting vain, humiliating tweets, recklessly. Cinderella will be forced to adorn and doll up her stepsisters with her pristine, special jewellery and Urban Decay makeup. Despite doing this unwillingly, Cinderella's loving, humble nature will do it whole heartedly and she will work up her magic with their look. Although Cinderella will have given her heart and soul into this her stepsisters will look twice as ugly and will be twice as ungrateful: It will be impossible to cover up their tainted, disagreeable complexions as what will be inside will be what matters and will shine on the outside and the only thing they will have inside of them is going to be filth. They, and their mother will leave for the nightclub, leaving Cinderella with a ‘to do list ‘of all the chores: To Do List: (For ignorant brats called Cinderella) -Do Hilda's Fashion assignment -Pay all our bills with your lame mother's lame but expensive Diamonds -Photoshop Hagatha's photo on the beach to make her look less plump, more tanned and beyond flattering and post it on all her social medias A tear will well up in Cinderella’s eye. A rainfall of tears will cascade onto the ground. She will think to herself: ‘What is the fault of mine? Why do I have to suffer? I wish, just wholeheartedly wish for freedom, for a life of my own, for TRUE love.” Her phone will vibrate, continuously. Brrrrzzz. Brrrzzz. Brrrzzz. attending to her ‘unknown’ call, she will receive the most bewildering shock of her life, thus throws her phone into the air, accidentally. She will have had heard of them in stories. She will have sawn her stepsisters watch programs involving so. It will be inconceivable. Projecting from her front camera will be a hovering phenomenon. A hologram will appear ahead of her and she will gape in awe. “Wow. A hologram, can you speak?” “Bonjour, lady Insterella, how do jou do? I saw jour Insta and followed jou. So natural, so on fleek, oh so tress chic, will you ever let jour Beauty hacks leak? My French instincts tell me zat jou may be wondering, who on earth is this young mademoiselle and why is she bubbling. I am Godmother of beauty, Guru of Beauty, fashion and trend, I am the one and only, long gone Coco Chanel” The hologram of Coco flamboyantly will chant in a French accent, in an exquisite manner of fashion as she will prance around Hagatha’s room, ejecting from Cinderella’s camera... “No Way!” Cinderella will exclaim. “Oh yes way, my young chic. I am here to send jou to zhat nightclub of jours. Now, I'm not Ze fairy godmother but I do indeed have zome magic up my sleeves….” PUFF! After a few moments, Cinderella will be transformed into an exotic model trending Coco Chanel. Her eyelashes, as long as a giraffe, will flutter like butterflies as she will blink. The curtains of her eyes will be explosions of smoke. Her eyes will look fierce, enough to kill anyone who will dare stare her in the face. Her Barbie doll figure will be emphasised by the silver glittered party gown she will be wearing. Her newly, half brown, half blonde hair will remain open, crimped and impeccable. “Now zhat is what I am talking about, my fierce chic. Once stare and he will be killed by your beauty. Now time for my signature perfume, looking fierce is enough, jou need to smell fierce, also.” Puff! Puff! Puff! “Zhere you go dear. Stunning! Now remember one zing. Jou need to be back by midnight, otherwise jour glitter will fall off, makeup will fall off and jour crimps will fade.” “Ok, I will take heed of the time. Thank you ever so much!” “My pleasure. Darling, jou must keep this perfume. Keep rejuvenating za ferocity in jour scent. Now jour Limo is outside. Go and woo zat Harry Potter gentleman.” Cinderella will grab her phone and jolt for the limo. *** She will stare at him eye to eye. They will go into another universe. They walk towards each other, and see or hear no one else, only one another. True love is what they both will encounter. They dance and talk all night long, taking selfies and updating statuses. Cinderella will take her phone out for one last selfie when she realises the time and frantically will say, “Ok Dan. One last snapchat. Oh, My God! It's 11:54!” Cinderella will sprint for the exit as if her life depends for it. She will jump in the limo which will drive her back to her house. Whilst her limo will scoot out of the road Daniel Radcliffe will call for Cinderella. “But wait! I didn't get a chance to know your name or take your number! You left your perfume! Where are you going?” He will instruct his secretary to go house to house in Manhattan and search for the girl who own the exclusive perfume. The next day… “Mom! UURGH! Look, there is this MAN at the door asking if we own this exclusive perfume because the owner of it is that Daniel guy’s mysterious love!” Hagatha will scream from the door. As Desdemona will heed for her daughters summon, she will see Cinderella gaping and urging to bolt for the door. Desdemona will clasp Cinderella’s arm, karate- chop her and will lock her in her room. Cinderella will try to yank the door open and is petrified when her phone vibrates in her pocket and Siri will start blurting. “Hello, Insterlla. How may I help you?” An idea will pop in Cinderella’s mind. Why not ask Siri? “How do I open a locked door?” Siri will reply robotically, “Pick the lock with a pin.” Like a professional mission agent, she will pluck out a pin and will try to engage it with the door. Click! It will open and Cinderella will burst out and hasten to the front door where she will find her stepmother on the urge of lying. “Oh yes. This belongs to my beautiful, youngest daughter Hil...” “Me!” Cinderella will interfere, regardless of any consequences. Her stepmother grinds her teeth and widens her eyes at Cinderella. “You did not just do that young lady!” She will grit in disgust. The security guards will escort Cinderella and she will be released from this dungeon of slavery, whilst being given a death stare by all three of her enslavers. Readied by professional fashion artists hurriedly, she will run into the exquisite Royal banquet, yearning to grasp into the arms of Daniel. He will open up with open arms and kneel down on one knee with a ring held in his left arm. “Will you marry me, the lady whose name I never knew?” “Cind... My name is Insterella” she will giggle politely, “and yes I will love to marry you.” He will push the ruby red ring into her finger and kiss her hand gently, triggering millions of jeers of celebration, “well, Insterlla now that you are my fiancé, I have something to say… I…I...L” “I Love you!” She will burst out and embrace him, experiencing true love for the first time. He will blush and embrace her equally whispering the four magical words in her ear “I love you too.” ‘I have Nobody’ by Ria Me and Rebecca had been friends since we were eight and were so close knit, it was like we were tied together at the waist but now, I feel as though somebody is slowly snipping away at the pieces of string that holds us together. Suddenly, huge droplets of rain are falling down from the sky as if somebody is pouring buckets of water out of the sky. Deep crackling noises can be heard and thunder is flashing in the sky like strobe lights. ‘Oh no! We’d best get inside! Lola, get the project!’ Rebecca squealed. Without a care in the world but my hair, I dashed inside forgetting the project outside and with it lays the chances of Rebecca forgiving me. I assume that Rebecca does not actually care about the project because, after five minutes, she has not even realised that it is still lying outside on the garden table. An hour later and the sun has once again, risen. We pull on our tight, faded welly-boots from when we were in year five and giggle- Rebecca’s have ‘Dora the explorer’ on them. Then, we fling open the back door and walk slowly up to the table; our boots sticking to the mud and squelching making sounds like ducks as we struggle to walk on. Rebecca is ankle deep in mud so I pull her up and we unexpectedly, both fall into a large muddy puddle and begin to cackle with laughter so loudly, that our neighbour Richard begins to stare through his curtains and frown. We then compose ourselves and pick up the monocle. Extremely wet, we leave it to dry in the sun while we plan our lines for the science fair. We run upstairs to play a game. ‘Lola, come get your monocle thingy-majigy.’ My mum shouts at the top of her voice. ‘I’ll get it later!’ I reply, although I am not at all bothered about what happens to it. Rebecca soon decides to sleep over at my house and we end up spending nearly the whole night sniggering and prank calling food restaurants for things they don’t sell and we covered our mischievous acts with blankets whenever my mum walked in persuading us to go to sleep. Soon, my eyes slowly begin to shut and all I can hear is mine and Rebecca’s heartbeats… I wake up to find Rebecca gone-I know she must be at dance practice. Mum is gone too so I know that she dropped Rebecca at her dance practice class. I am very eager to know how well our project works so I run downstairs, thudding as I go along, unlock the back door, grab the monocle and come back inside. I grip it tightly in my hands, ensuring that I don’t drop it for I know that Rebecca would be fuming. So, I decide to hurry up with the deed and hold it to my eye, my cold bare legs shaking and the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall like proud soldiers. Within a split second, my heart stops beating. I take a minute to digest what I have just seen and scream. I sprint up the stairs and lock my room door taking the monocle with me. Luckily, my heart starts beating again but what I saw around thirty seconds ago is extremely hard to comprehend. There were around twenty ghosts or supernatural beings floating around my house and piercing through the air. There were around twenty voices letting out blood curdling shrieks sending shivers down my spine. There were around twenty flickers of each lightbulb in the room and finally, twenty petrifying voices calling my name. I heard them telling me that they were my great, great, great, great grandparents, uncles, aunties and family friends from hundreds of years ago, asking me to join them. What I have seen with my own two eyes today will scar them forever. My life has changed forever and will never be the same again… A few days have now passed and I have taken the monocle to school today for our science fair and I see it as the perfect opportunity to tell Rebecca what happened with the monocle. As soon as I catch sight of her, I walk swiftly up to her and burst out: ‘Rebecca, you’ll never guess what I saw yesterday. I heldthemonocletomyeyeandsawaroundtwentyghostscallingmyname!’ I have been so tired and have had a lack of sleep because of the amount that I am thinking about what I saw. I haven’t even bothered to brush my hair and have beans dribbled down my blazer. Basically, I look like a zombie. ‘It’s happening!’ I shriek with laughter as I lift my hands up, palms facing the sky. ‘The world will be taken over by our ancestors, the ghosts!’ I hold the monocle to Rebecca’s eye and she also sees thousands of figures and ghost, of these are our teachers from when we were younger. She whacks the monocle out of my hand, her eyes open wide and her eyebrows raise to the top of her forehead. ‘Who on earth are you? ’She questions me. My eyes swell up with tears and my nose turns pink, ‘Your best friend since we were three?’ I prompt ‘Get away from me you crazy girl I don’t know who you are and I never will!’ She screamed so loudly that all students come running out of their classes chanting ‘Fight, fight, fight, fight!’ Every human and sound blurs out and my eyes focus sharply on Rebecca and burst out in tears. I give up trying with myself. All of this is MY fault. If I had picked up the monocle from my garden table, none of this would have happened. If I had listened, to my mum, none of this would have happened. And now, I’m sitting wanting to sink into hole and die. Rebecca was all I had left after my mum and now, I HAVE NOBODY. Chapter 1 - The Case By Harsimran “I am so bored!” I sighed. “We know you are you have been complaining about it for the last week!” said agitated Emily. “Well if they gave us a bloody case that was worth our time,” I replied, “MAYBE I WOULDN’T COMPLAIN!” “I know, just cases about missing cats.” Moaned Emily. Suddenly! Amelia burst through the door, excited, drearily I asked her “What is it-” Cutting me off, she exclaimed “A CASE!!” “Is it worth our time?” I enquired. “YES!” Amelia replied. “Okay, I’ll read through it, you calm down and fix your appearance.” I told her. “Let me help you with that Amelia.” said Emily, with a lightened mood. “No.” I said to her. “Why?” she asked. “So I can help you make a pretty rainbow,” I answered in a sarcastic manner, “Don’t take that sarcastic tone with me.” said Emily in response. “Fine. Let’s read the case.” I replied to her comment. Chapter 2 - The Murder “So Mary died, she was shot to death,” I said, “the bullet unrecognisable.” “Probably is,” replied Emily, “The police are often asking us to solve the simplest of cases.” “I checked, silly girl, it says investigated by AMELIA” responded Amelia aggressively. “Sorry” replied Emily meekly. “Stop it girls,” I sighed, “So it is decided we are going to investigating the scene.” We travelled to the victim’s house and by then the police and moved the corpse. DESPITE, my multiple warnings against it. “Hello Thomas” said Sergeant John. “What have you done?” I replied exasperated. “Sorry” responded Sergeant John “How many times…” I replied to the sergeant. “My men did it before I came.” He said. “I- “Enough let’s get on with the case!” shouted Emily annoyed. We went to search the body, she was shot in the head and had barely bled, a few days before her murder she had just gotten out of coma. She had been divorced some time ago, roughly 3 months ago. “Okay which room did she die in?” I enquired. “Her bedroom.” Responded Sergeant John. Chapter 3 - Clues In the room there was no finger prints except from those of the victim’s. There was a playing card, the joker. That jogged my memory. The joker’s gang, a thought to be unstoppable force snatching lives of the innocents. “It is the joker gang leader” I whispered to Amelia. “Okay, how do you know?” Enquired Amelia. “No fingerprints, only a criminal mastermind can perfect that, the joker playing card with a crown drawn on top.” I responded to her question. We rushed to the analysis room, it took us 5 minutes to get there, the 5 minutes making the difference whether we could catch them or not… Will they escape? To be continued… Footprints By Manav
I look upon my grandfather’s face in the picture and remember that horrible, tragic day. My grandfather’s funeral. It all starts on a blissful day in year two, it was the last lesson of the day (we had R.E.) and I was just about to answer a question about Sikhism and their gurus, when I was called out of class to come down to the office, to be picked up by my dad. I was perplexed as to why I needed to leave because there was still another forty minutes of class? While I was packing my things I thought it must be extremely important as I know how much my parents hate it when I miss school. I get to the office and dad is there waiting. From the office I walk down the bumpy pathway to the car with my dad, to go and pick up mum, that’s when I get the horrible news from my mum ‘‘Manav, Shankar thatha (my dad’s dad) has passed away.’’ As soon as I heard the news me and dad started to tear up; dad even more so obviously. Mum tried to console us all by herself, it was incredibly hard as it was a huge loss but eventually we calmed down because we had to be at the funeral so we zoomed home, packed our bags in the blink of an eye and bolted to the airport to get to India as fast as we could, so we could mourn properly and say our goodbyes. We all go to Huxleys for lunch but none of us are able to eat, as we know that we will never be able to hear his stern commanding voice telling my dad off when he does something wrong, it’s funny how dad seems to act like a kid when being told off, I miss the good times. On the plane mum tried to put a comedy-family movie on all of our screens to cheer us up, divert our thoughts and keep our spirits high, but none of us could set our minds on something other than the catastrophe back in India, not even mum. As soon as we got to my grandparent’s house all I could see was grieving faces and sad eyes filled with tears surrounding me. I walk up the steep stone stairs to the first floor where my grandparents’ house is. My parents are slowly walking up behind me. I feel the heat around me as its summertime here, sweat dripping down my neck and back soaking into my clothes. I reach up to the flat and stop at the open door, there in the middle of the room lying on the floor I see my lifeless grandfather surrounded by our family members mourning. I stop and stare for a few minutes until my aunty comes forward and gently nudges me to my cousin’s bedroom. My sister & brother are sitting on their beds trying to shut out the horrible tragedy by playing on their devices but I can see the rivers of tears running down their cheeks. My brother let me sit next to him on his top bunk bed. We tried playing together but we could all hear the mourning outside. Throughout the day the ceremonies and prayers continued. They took Granddad away on a bed made of bamboo, he was wrapped up in white sheets covered in flowers. We stayed behind, later all the others returned, had showers. Lunch was served on palm leaves and we ate whatever we could manage. I was told by mum that granddad’s body was cremated and his ashes will be kept for some more prayers after which we will spread them into the sea. That night I dreamt of my granddad, we were playing together, he was rocking me and my brother on his lap and laughing with us. I will always remember him as the strong tough man he was and hope I grow up to be just like him, strong, intelligent and a pillar for our family. Mum wakes me up for an early breakfast, the priest came and we had to sit in the prayers. We all had the rest of the day in, my brother and I played with our Beyblade. That evening we went to the beach. We sat at the edge looking out at the sea all of us lost in our thoughts, around half an hour later we stood up and walked up to the water. Dad and aunty walked ahead further into the water until it covered them to their waists, they opened the container with granddad’s ashes and poured them into the sea. When the last grain had fallen from the container we prayed for granddad to rest in peace and slowly we all walked out of the water, walking across the sand towards the vendors that stood along the side of the road. Aunty got us kids an icecream each to try and cheer us up. I stood there looking back at our footprints in the sand thinking of him………
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By Lucy Tirahan Week 13 was entitled 'The Guessing Game'. Tying in with themes discussed in week twelve, I asked the class to develop the reserved writing skills by forming riddles and purposefully told them to leave out the answers. Can you guess any of them? I am the girl on fire,
The fuse to rebellion, The star-crossed lover, The girl taking the strike The pride of my district. Who am I? I’m bubbling of colours and sparks, Like a witches cauldron Sprinkled with glitter, With a mountain of succulent snow, A straw will guzzle me up, And my snowball will slowly drown to be devoured. WHO AM I? Ayesha I am an overflowing volcano, spilling out my anger in the form of steam Hear me whistle; See me rumble; Feel the tension rising; And then slowly drip down into a pool of water. What is holding me? Ria If I am lucky, I will still have you, I was born and you were there, I could lose you any moment, I love you with all my heart, You’re the first thing I saw, So what are you? Harsimran I am large but not seen, Everywhere I have been. I can make you feel cold, I am older than old. Because of me a whole house can go by, Now you must guess what am I? Manav By Lucy Tirahan Week 12 was entitled 'Clues' and the focus was on trying to write implicitly for our readers. I wanted to highlight sometimes it is better to keep your writing reserved as that allows the reader to think about your story more from their own perception; we have a tendency to give away all information but that can actually make a story more boring. The starter activity was a play on the main activity done in week six where I gave the class an opening sentence to use which everyone could start their story with. This week I decided to change it by giving them the last sentence which was '...and that is how I won'. For a main activity they completed poems about being half way, I chose this activity as we often focus on the beginning of an era or the end, but no one really focuses on the hard part of being half way. It was also significant as the class were writing at a period where they were half way through year seven. … and that is how I won I sat in my comfy sofa, my nemesis ready to break down the door. I smugly sit there my plan in action… Dr Moriarty … and that is how I won. Harsimran You all doubted me and said I would never amount to anything in my life but I beat you all. Here is how it goes I built my electric writing station where you write with electricity and it burns through the paper. I don’t see any of you being able to also build a particle accelerator. All of your hate made me doubt myself but I was determined to be better and so I practised and became the best …and that is how I won. Manav Real life is different than stories. In stories it’s always the good ones who win, what’s the suspense in that? However, in real life it’s a whole different story. There I am walking around trying to be a good vampire, I mean human. Then a boy fell, my eyes grew larger and the sign of juicy blood. I hesitated to close my eyes and look away but it was just dragging me towards it faster. I stood right next to the boy looked down, when he eyes spoke to me to help him. I carried him to a nearby ally and placed him on a plastic bit since it seemed to be the only conformable thing there. The boy looked around. When I was about to go to the pharmacy to get plasters. When suddenly, my eye caught his blood dripping on my shoe. I came closer to him knee and… …and that’s how I won (at not being a good human). Neha Half Way Poem
I am half a person, Half a monster! I’m in big trouble, Because of me, I hate my other half, I don’t care enough, I just wish it would go *puff* Sounds like a bluff, I hate my split personality, I really hate you though, Make my life a misery, I’m happy enough, You ruin my life enough, It’s not enough, learn that life’s tough, I bored of this little monster ruining my works of art, I am having a laugh! Harsimran Being half way Why? Why is it that I must choose between each fate, And each side a completely opposite trait. In this world I have learnt that good will always trump evil, But the amount of people who choose bad is sure to give you a chill. I am torn as to how I should live my days, As I can see the true beauty of both in my gaze. Manav By Lucy Tirahan This week was entitled 'Identity Crisis' and revolved around the struggle for young people to find their identity in a world consumed by social media. We looked at how the tendency to compare ourselves and our lifestyle to the ones we see online could lead to a dangerous cycle of greed and insecurity. This first task was to write a poem with the repeated refrain 'I am...' at the start of each sentence, the students had to follow the refrain with something personal that they felt contributed to their identity; I encouraged them to look at the small, insignificant details as they are often big parts to who we are. Secondly, the students completed a poem based around the theme of 'comparison', some went down the social media route, where others chose to look at comparison in nature. I am a geek-freak I am a book worm I am the only person who has a favourite element- Potassium I am a total harry potter fan I am the heart of my family I am a panic-generator when tests are around the corner I am a Nandos maniac A typical Bollywood drama queen I am a hilarious hippopotamus I am Ayesha Ayesha I am the biggest science nerd/enthusiast ever. I am a very stressed person when it comes to tests or assessed tasks. I am a very doubtful person towards myself. I am never going to feel like I can be good enough. I am not what I seem to be. Manav I am an owner of my blood, I am a pea’s hater, I am a smile on my face, I am the oldest sister, I am always there, I am a ROBLOX fan, I am my mother’s mashed potatoes, I am simply me. Neha Activity 2: Comparison poems She scrolls through her Instagram feed, Admiring all their complexions But really do we know that this is a cover over their imperfections? She looks into the mirror, And brushes her delicate hand over her rough skin Feels the tainted bumps of jealousy And tries to scrape them off, Releasing the hate A tear swelling in her eye She puts her account on disguise And comments Comments on how their face made a baby cry Ayesha False impressions You see me and you think that I am calm am never has a worry, But you don’t know the truth I rented everything and is so poor I couldn’t pay them, sorry. When you see me you think three hours of work is what you would spend, Even though I am the person without a single friend. You want to be me because you think all these riches being mine is true, But I am the poor, lonely that desires to be you. Manav Identity All over the magazines, All over your phone, All these perfect people, Aren’t as perfect as their shown. We feel jealousy going through our veins, This dreadful imposter, Is always on your case, Yes, the green eyed monster. These photos are photo shopped They are all fake This is all done For the money that they make Arwa
By Lucy Tirahan For Week 10 the theme was 'A Trade For A Trade' where we discussed the concept of exchange in the world and how we can intertwine this concept with revenge. For the starter activity, I showed the students a well-known quote by Ghandi that states "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" and asked them to follow this stimulus with their own examples voicing a similar message. Over the past two weeks the students have been working on a piece where they have created their own solar system (due to the recent discovery of our new solar system in our universe); these pieces form the main activity for this week and last week. '“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” - M.K Gandhi ‘A bribe for a bribe makes the whole world poor. A compliment for a compliment makes the whole rejoice. An insult for an insult makes the whole world cry. A life for a life makes the whole world desolate. Manav “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” - M.K Gandhi A word for a word makes the whole world speechless. An ear for an ear makes the whole world deaf. A blood for a blood makes the whole world alive. A trade for a trade makes the whole world fair. Neha Khendria “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” - M.K Gandhi A friend for a friend makes the whole world friendly. A voice for a voice makes the whole world deaf. A life for a life makes the whole world empty. Love for love makes the whole world smile. Harsimran Activity 2: Solar System The Zttrium Solar System
In my solar system there are 118 planets each with 1000000 inhibitors and in this galaxy all males are actually sensible and not inappropriate, instead of just a few. Each planet is made entirely of an element in the periodic table people are able to change their form into one animal only but me and all my friends and family can change into any animal eg: falcon, seal, lion etc. Every planet has its own activity for example on Mercury you can surf everywhere, on Bromine you can go scuba diving and on francium you can go rocket jumping (provided you have water). Manav Blood Planet On Blood planet the whole thing will be made of juicy blood. There will be life and I will be the ruler and if anyone annoys me they will be sent to prison and if they don’t make it up by 5 days I’ll use their blood for my planet and it’s food. Although some of it will be fake blood; however, most of it will be real and almost everyone is welcome there. If you look on the bright side of mine (which it already is for me) then when you get hurt I could use the blood to help you if you need it. Don’t worry, what I’ll do is that all the blood will be separated into each group. The blood there will always be clean and if you want you can play in it. It’ll be like a blood swimming pool. Neha Khendria The Solar System Being the first compound, Means I’m number 1, I have to take all these elements, And make them fun, And be careful, Because the toxic ones, Will turn against us, Turning us to dust, But even as dust they couldn’t kill us, Cause we can’t break down, Any further, First let’s make some compound friends, And make the first planet, Fun till the end, Mercury we named it, Not suitable for life, For it was too close to the star, Who would give and destroy life, Her name was sun, Beautiful as can be, But mercury was mean, Making all the planets, Bow before him, Next was the protector, Venus was his name, Stayed strong against mercury’s reign, He wanted a friend, So Icey Earth was made, Perfect for life, So the human race began, Venus had a job, Earth wanted everyone to have a friend, So seven were made in the end, Mars was made to please the Earth, Next was the biggest, A gas giant and a tornado will fit right down there, The ‘big red spot’ we’ll call it, As rosy as her cheeks, Then her little sister, Saturn is her name, Gorgeous rings around her waist, Uranus her twin brother, Blue as can be, And freezing cold temperatures, You’ll freeze straight away you see, Neptune was the last to made, But watched over, Like a big brother. Harsimran In a universe far away, In a place which will take you eras to reach, In a place where you will never be able to imagine, Is a place that’s beyond your dreams? There is no science, Or plantations of beings Or the gloominess of planet earth And this I will be guaranteeing. Here, in this magical kingdom of mine Is a visit you can never deny This is the home of my seven planets Where the level of fun is manic Ayesha By Lucy Tirahan Our creative class has now started up again and it's great to see some new faces as well as people from previous classes. As always I like to take topics which are relevant to the students and so the theme for week 9 was 'Feeling Under the Weather'. With the recent event of Storm Doris I thought it would be interesting for the class to write diary entries from the perspective of a storm. We looked at different perspectives in depth during week 2, so I thought it would be interesting to see how they could implement this knowledge into this particular task. I hope you enjoy reading them and look forward to the rest of the pieces coming in 2017. Dear Diary,
I was scouting the area, trying to find prey and divulge them into nothingness… The naïve children were flaunting around foolishly- unaware of their devastating fate. I didn’t let on about the fact I was about to up rise but I attempted to trick them into thinking they were safe; for now at least… Of course I was agitated of waiting but I knew it was intelligent of me to not make my move yet; it was in my best interest for them to die with nothing but a thought of “What even happened?” The children started to leave which was perfect because I was now at the brink of depression and now I was going to finally make my move… There was a strike of wind to get them ready- I needed to test their strength to see how powerful the shock should be, usually I would just go full out and penetrate them with all my power and all that would be left is a speck of dirt, however today I was feeling generous. Rishan Dear Diary, I was feeling very mad because I was very sick yesterday and all my friends went to the wind park without me and I got so angry I decided to create a storm for the people living on the earth. I decided to fly down to people and I span and blew them away I had very mixed emotions at this point because I was feeling agitated but devastated at the same time. I decided to blow harder and the wind rose really high. It grew higher and higher and it blew so fast. I was still feeling under the weather so I decided to carry the storm on for the rest of the day. The little humans were blown away in the cold and they were freezing and could barely walk. I saw their hair flying all over the place. Bye Diary, Arwa Arwa Dear diary, At this point I’m thinking what the point, I know what you’re thinking just a bad day, well no it’s the worst day in the history of my hurricane days. Today I gave as much wind as a hundred windmills could give practically pushing the tiny humans off their feet. This made me feel better for a few seconds but never really warmed me up inside it almost made me feel worse than I already was. Over time I got more and angrier and I didn’t want to be angry nor be happy. I looked down and saw the little humans happy all gathered around with their friends but I was up here all alone unhappy blowing wind at them to ruin their fun as I didn’t have any. My heart felt like a huge hole had been dug inside and my soul had turned dark cold stone dark, I wondered why I was feeling this way, I wanted a hug hole to come and suck me up, I hated my life up in the sky it was sometimes so brilliant and sometimes it could be terrible. Samira Dear diary, I wasn’t feeling very well the other day, there was simply too much evaporation, I couldn’t control it and I became a storm. I wanted to say “hi” to the birds and trees in California like usual. But they were all afraid, I wondered why and moved away. The echo of breaking news in America said that my name was “Doris”, I tell you they weren’t even close! My name is Ticute because when I was born I was the tiniest little cloud and my mum thought I was the cutest of them all. Upset I ran to England, to the docking bay of Blackpool. They called me “Doris” and said my winds were fierce and strong. So I strolled across England, in a sombre manner. I don’t know why they are complaining when it’s my feelings they’re hurting. I will talk to you again dearest diary, when I am a cloud again. Love, Ticute Harsimran Dear Diary, Today I realised that I could make everyone’s life- hell. With my strong windy fatalities, I could hit them with my robust blows that will destroy them. I wanted to destroy the world, people felt scares and intimidated of me- my life couldn’t get any better! I chose today to be the day; as, today is my birthday! My name is Doris, every day I feel that people aren’t scared of me, not even one bit. My friends (the windy family) have come to see me as well as my parents and my brother. The windy family like the idea of having a life without humans, just us in one place. We plan to destroy every living thing on the planet. Sanjana Dear diary, I feel so agitated right now to an extent where I feel like ripping the living soul out of any object or being around me. Those heartless pea sized humans and their gadgetry worthless thingamabobs! Those things cause so MUCH gases and heat and I just can’t endure it, I have to form, I just can’t stop forming no matter how hard I try… No, don’t get me wrong I’m not favouring humans, I try and make sure they suffer the most to get a piece of their own medicine. Though I solely worry about the allies of the weather clan, dear friends of nature, the plants. Unfortunately, they also have to go through so much purely because of the gadgetry chaos those humans have ruthlessly arisen, they have to experience hardship. How long is thing going to stretch on for? Anyway, I’m going to show them whose boss, even though those humans think so much of themselves…catch you after I’ve created destruction! The wind… Ayesha Dear Diary, It feels so good. People always say I’m horrible and they curse the day I was born, and they may think I don’t care but I do. Storms are living breathing things we breathe in hot air, blow out cold air and travel the world. I used to feel sorry for the people who were terrorised by me, but they insult me so now I destroy everything they worked on, everything they love and I DON’T CARE. Now I only feel power and you will forever feel pain and suffering. Manav Dear Diary, This week has been the best for me by far! But, it hasn’t all been great. Sun tried to get on the scene quite a lot too when really, I wanted Rain to show up. Rain said she was too busy battling with Snow over who gets to take over Hayes when she was oblivious to the fact that I needed her help. Without Rain, I haven’t achieved a lot-I only managed to knock down a few trees but only killed one lady from Wolverhampton! My parents, Tornado and Hurricane, have really not been proud of me lately and they said I was underachievingL. I wish Rain was here; my life would be so much easier. Anyway, I have to go; my next stop is Hounslow and it is quite far away from where I live. Wish me luck! -Doris Riya By Lucy Tirahan For week 8 the theme was 'crazy creations', for the first task I gave each student a piece of paper and worked on character development. I started by asking a question to which the students wrote their answer down, they then folded paper over their answer and passed their piece of paper to the person to the right. I then asked a different question and the same process followed. After a piece of paper had returned to its original person, we opened them up and discovered interesting characters. I was trying to encourage the students to add unique and unexpected information when describing characters as it makes it more interesting to read. The series of questions were: What is their name? How old are they? Where do they live? What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? What is their biggest fear? When did they last cry? Below you will see the answers to these questions and how they formed a variety of characters. The second activity was to create an invention which defeats war and achieves world peace. With Remembrance Day last week, as a class we discussed the importance of peace around the world. Character Development What is their name? My name is Zoey. How old are they? I am 34 years old. Where do they live? I live in the deepest cave, in an unknown land. What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? My hobby is to juggle bowls of my own spit! What is their biggest fear? My no.1 fear is heights. When did they last cry? The last time I cried was….was…..was… never! Filsan What is their name? Jeremya Koligan How old are they? 200 years old Where do they live? 1932 Gurgler street What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? Sleep and making a mess What is their biggest fear? Spiders When did they last cry? 3 years ago Manav What is their name? Malow How old are they? 172 years old Where do they live? Hawaii What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? Go to sleep What is their biggest fear? Heights When did they last cry? When he got bullied on 24th February 2009 Harsimran What is their name? Ashlyn Roseleigh How old are they? 1002 Where do they live? Ghana What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? Reading books like Harry Potter and Skulduggery Pleasant What is their biggest fear? Good over evil is their biggest fear When did they last cry? When they were 3 months old. Sanjana What is their name? Amelia How old are they? Seventeen Where do they live? New York What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? Eating ice cream What is their biggest fear? Losing her parents When did they last cry? When she was punched in the eye Ayesha What is their name? Strong chair How old are they? 17 Where do they live? Alaska What is their favourite thing to do on a Sunday? Eat a munching What is their biggest fear? Trees When did they last cry? Yesterday Callum Create an invention which defeats war & achieves world peace My Genius Invention
It is 11:00. I am here to present my invention to the most powerful people in the world. The point of this is to create World Peace. My machine is a genius one. This is what it does: It shows all the leaders of the world how their country would look when they had a war. This would make them think twice before doing it again. Now it is 12:00. The meeting is over. It is a major success. All the leaders and most powerful people in the world have sworn an oath to never create a war again! Filsan My Peace Robot Guarding robots that use their body to protect their assigned person from anything that tries to harm them. They seek out and destroy every gun, bullet, and any other weapon in the world. To top it off they give flowers to their master every time the last one dies. Manav To keep world peace I would make a drug to make all the world’s politicians positive and a drug for when they are no longer a politician, it will be a drug to make them go back to normal. The drugs will alter their memories and possibly alter their neurons to change their point of view. Harsimran I stepped into the room, unknowingly. When I realised what I had saw I was horrified, there was silence in the room- my favourite. Not any children. I worked really hard, BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Suddenly, I was somewhere else, I was falling through the world, lonely. I saw that all the people had stopped fighting. I was a genius! “Muuhhhhhhaaaaaa!!!!!!” Sanjana Carved into a heart, it beats and beats puffing out rings of love… inside this invention it chugs and chugs and chugs, mixed with antidotes for ISIS to calm down and think, antidotes for Trump to realise that presidency in not attained by racism and hatred, antidotes to help woman gain their true rights and succeed as good as men, antidotes for equality, affection and mercy for everyone, antidotes of humanity and love to everyone and finally, antidotes for thieves and enemies to realise their mistakes and how they’re not perfect, so before pointing out to others look at their self. The antidote spreads around every nook and cranny of the world, mixing into the air… not a soul to be missed not a creature to be forgotten, to the world and beyond… Ayesha
Callum By Lucy Tirahan For week seven I decided to go with the Halloween theme which the students worked really well. As a starter I asked them to design a witch's spell, for a main activity they could do anything based on Halloween. It is interesting to see how their skills are developing and that they are becoming more confident in writing poetry. For the main task I was surprised to see how many students chose to write poetry, I am glad they are challenging themselves and their writing proves they are very talented at what they do. Witch Spell Abracadabra, Abracadoo Using this spell you’ll turn someone into goo! With the deep voice of mischief And the evil snare of the haunted sheriff The sour throat of a frog And the smell of a public bog The slime of an extra farty slug And the skin of a decapitated bug, Crackle this spell Like you’re calling for hell And viciously stir your cauldron Which should vomit sparks of golden! Ayesha Temporary Power Absorber Spell For all enemies big and small, drain their powers and make them fall. Any power make it yours, take it from within their core. But careful with your power, it’s only yours for an hour. Manav The Spell of Darkness Witches arise from the dead And help me make this marvellous spell. A delicious meal for Halloween! Just follow these simple steps Add the eyeball of a newt and spider too Don’t forget the slime of a slug, for flavour Swamp water to wash it down. This will be a treat the whole family will enjoy! Filsan Witch Spell Here is my spell It might even rhyme I tell my story in a weird way To speed up time Here is my spell To speed up the day To make time go faster My power I will lay. Callum How to turn somebody invisible Tap their head, Turn them to the right, Take them to a shed And give them a fright. Feed them some rat tail cakes, Give them a drink from the murky, green lake, Say alacazam, alacazoo, I cast my invisibility powers right into you! Ria Trick or treat!
Trick or treat! Smell my feet! Give me something good to eat! Hurry up, I’m losing my conceit! I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to bleat! Or do you want me to turn you into sausage meat, And drag you all across the street. And make you so horror-struck that you’ll excrete Don’t dare to make a desperate fleet Or you’ll find I won’t be very sweet! I’ll gash your windows And raid your kitchen And you’ll be so amazed You’ll be frozen in daze And stuck in a mental maze. By the time you’re conscious again You’ll be wondering how I escaped through the drain. So when I say trick or treat, Give me something good to eat! Ayesha The Love for my Pumpkin What a beauty! What a sight! You would make the best pumpkin for Halloween tonight. You are like a masterpiece, a Halloween heaven in disguise, A beauty sitting right before my eyes. A fusion of scarlet and a colour of pale tangerine, How on earth could we possibly make you look so mean? We cut you some eyes, Before we realise that you look so neat! You really are a pumpkin that can’t be beat. A mouth is carved so finely on your face, Wow oh wow! You look so ace! Amazed people stop and stare As you sit proudly with so much flair. Ria My Halloween Piece Halloween monsters in the haunted house Drunk Dracula’s diving down all the way into the dairy pool Serious skeletons sword fighting Freaky Frankenstein’s frying fingers Zooming zombie’s zapping zippers open Jazzy jack-o-lanterns jamming out to Jessie J Manav The Skeleton’s Key I walked across the cemetery Feeling every grave I remembered a memory When I was very brave. It was when I found a box Within it there was key It had a face that was very cross And I jumped with glee. It was the skeleton key Rumoured to awaken the dead But only on the night of Halloween From their ghostly beds. They key glowed and shimmered With a grave slowly awakening It grasped my ankle and pulled me down Never to see the light of day again. Filsan Halloween Haikus Halloween party Fireworks scare dogs away Scary carved pumpkins Halloween party Costumes are hand crafted well Bright decorations Halloween party Four buckets filled up with sweets Toffee apples stick Callum By Lucy Tirahan This week was entitled 'Imaginative Creations' where the students had free reign on letting their creativity flow through their writing. Particularly this week I was trying to teach them different ways of presenting their writing aside from the usual style of a written story, hence for their starter activity I asked them to write a 'Recipe for a dream' (this was inspired from a Roald Dahl book). Afterwards, I gave the students a writing prompt which was "You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you saw..." to which they could respond however they wanted to, this task enabled me to challenge them to try writing in second person as opposed to constantly writing in first. Recipe for a dream “Quest Dream Recipe”
Manav Ingredients:
Ayesha “Recipe for a good dream” Ingredients:
“A Dream” You will need:
“A recipe for a good dream” Recipe:
“A recipe for a good dream”
“You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see…” You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… a large emerald mountain rising as high as you could see. Falling from the tops of the gleaming cliff is an enormous, everlasting waterfall – not like any other. The water that you see is entirely made from dazzling diamond, radiant rubies and shining sapphires. Not only do you see a waterfall, but also pixies living in harmony and living in pleasure. You want to stay forever, but you know you can’t, but at least you may visit whenever you would like to get some extra money!
Manav You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… A world of Christmas; the world of Santa Bells jingle joyously Santa dances hysterically His belly shaking up and down The elves join the dancing Flying up and down. The aroma of ginger The feeling of being overwhelmed Reindeers pouncing elegantly Whilst fairies hide in their realm! Presents, gifts and luxuries Waiting to be hugged By little girls and boys Who mostly await pugs. You’re swung into the room To take part in the fun For Christmas is here All is well and done! Ayesha You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… A million creepy spiders scuttling everywhere and a large, brown, grizzly bear combing his luscious hair. A long green snake with a holographic rake and a minute baby crab wolfing down a cake. A giraffe dances in the trees whilst a gorilla examines his knees. A mermaid paints her tail with shimmery dust, a unicorn looks pretty, well, she must. A leprechaun embraces his gold while a dinosaur shrieked “this is getting old!” You shut the door and breathe in and out, you open the door again and give a shout – nobody is there. Ria You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… The mystery that is me, all clean and pristine, not me at all. Following the trap door, to see, what was beneath, the truth about me. Something wasn’t right: gummy bears and all that, too much of a sweet tooth, it wasn’t nice… One gummy drop sitting on its own, look inside, what will you find? Falling through an endless hole, then you land upon the floor, open the door, there you see, roller-coasters all about me, fun for me, but not for you, thrills around the corner too – now you know me. I’m a mystery, only you will know, along with the journey. Harsimran You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… You see darkness…nothing but darkness. You peak inside – you’re scared. The darkness turns to light, you smell a rotten smell: you don’t know what it is, but it smells burnt, disgusting! You feel the mould on the walls as you tip toe in! you take a few steps in to find a green, strange alien dancing about like a baboon. Then, over the music that was playing, you hear the alien singing in tune to the music. It is dressed in a girl’s pink polka dot outfit: it was horrible! A thing that you would not like others to see…but you join in anyway! Sanjana you turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… a plain blue sky and woodland creatures come to life. A beautiful land Of sea and sand But what else could there be? You could taste candyfloss lingering To touch your sensitive tongue. You could feel the beak of a cute Little toucan And its orange, yellow and red beak Is as soft as your pillow! Well now this is up to you, To try something new. To twist yourself into an adventure Of your own imagination. Fatima You turn the key, push the handle and as you open the door you see… A silly robot dancing front of the door. He was supposed to be doing work Instead was busting moves on the floor He was driving me berserk! Callum By Lucy Tirahan For week five the title was 'Less is More' as the main focus was on six word stories. The students took the challenge and wrote very creative and original stories, it is through this activity that they learned sometimes it is better to have less detail and keep the reader guessing. For a main activity the students had a choice of two options, the activity that the majority chose to write about will be uploaded at a later date. Alternatively, I told the students about Mental Health Day and Callum used this to form a piece based on sadness: he very cleverly presented his piece in the form of the tweet to demonstrate how you can intertwine creative writing with modern day social media. By using the form of a tweet he was also able to reflect the 'Less is More' theme. Playing, scissors, two pigtails, one pigtail. Egg, cracked, poached, fried, served, breakfast. Pass in corridor, flee school, freedom. Ria Lost, abandoned, isolated. Away from home! Trapped, in danger, scared, forgotten. HELP!!!! Even in silence, there is chaos! Robs banks, gets away, tells everyone Born together, stayed together, died together! Neglected them, they left, we followed Emotion, tragic, dejected, heartbroken, still together Quiet, tranquil, strange. Where am I? Sanjana Get up. Brush teeth go college. Do lesson. Have break. Go home. Jump in bed and close eyes. Film day is the best experience. It's Friday! 'Hi' to Miss Lodge Callum Cluck-cluck, marinated, grilled, served, Nandos! Oesophagus, stomach, intestines, rectum, number 2! Ayesha Partners, best friends, adventure, lovers, tragedy Best friends separated, searching, found, love Game come real, quest, friendship, victory Quest, battle, enemies, turns to friendship Manav |
MEET LUCY
Our Creative Writing Teacher I'm a student in year 12
who is passionate about writing and hopes to become successful in the industry when I'm older. I am lucky to have been provided with many opportunities throughout school to explore this skill and take it further. Writing is often seen as an unstable career but many people have inspired me to stay committed to something I love and to keep my drive, purely because it is with drive and dedication that you can overcome what is deemed impossible. I wanted to do something which would inspire younger years to take up creative writing, as I truly believe it is an art that can help you develop many skills and force you to think outside the ordinary. I also believe that younger people have not been provided with a sufficient platform to make themselves heard, this blog is an alternative platform. I now run a creative writing club with Heston West Big Local once a week where I work with students aged 11-14 on creative writing pieces. They are all incredibly talented and each individual manages to write from a unique perspective. Each week we will upload their work, I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy working with them. Archives
May 2017
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