2017-2018
British International School, Phuket
Literature, Photography & Art
Front Cover Photo by Taisiia Chernova, Year 6CM Inside Front Cover Photo by Nipawan Hpah, Year 10 British International School, Phuket 59 Moo 2, Thepkrasattri Road T. Koh Kaew, A. Muang Phuket District, Phuket 83000
Dedication We dedicate our second edition of "Be Inspired " to the Year 13 class of 2018. May you fly far and high! "Departing, leave behind footprints in the sands of time." — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Photo by Samuele Rossi, Year 12
Abby Selfridge, Tanya Taunton, Jonty Reid, Mrs. Julie Clarke (advisor), Samuele Rossi, Andrea Hosking,Thanadon (Albert ) Tantivit
Creativity seems to be a much sought after attribute in schools, but what, exactly, does it mean, this thing that, we are told, is so essential to a twenty-first century education? This ‘thing’ that employers salivate over? At the very least it must surely mean to see the world differently; to look beyond the commonplace; to challenge the trends in current perceptions; to see potential where no one else can. But it also requires action. This second edition of ‘Be Inspired’ is creativity in action. Its purpose is to encourage a sideways look at the world – a world where we are increasingly marginalising original thinking in favour of such things as ‘search engines’ and ‘Youtube’. Above all, ‘creativity’ is habit forming, and the contributors to this magazine will, I hope, be inspired to continue to open our eyes to a world as others see it. Congratulations to the editorial team, Jonty, Andrea, Samuele, Albert, Tanya and Abby, and a big ‘thank you’ to Julie Clarke who led us along this particular path. May your future years in Australia be creative ones!
— Neil Richards, Headmaster at BISP
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This is my second year as part of the Be Inspired editing team, and this will be its second edition. I joined the literary magazine because I wanted to be a part of creativity. I wanted to help facilitate putting great minds and imaginations on paper, giving them the eyes and attention that they don’t necessarily get, but wholly deserve. I wished to promote and display some of the underplayed talent of the school, and being part of the editing team gave me that opportunity. After the first edition it became apparent how much imagination lay within the minds of our school’s students, and it’s wonderful that we now have a window from which to showcase the talent of the students. Be Inspired is an amazing opportunity to collaborate with staff and students - both those in the editing team as well as those that submit entries, and the many others involved in the process, to create the brilliant amalgamation of literary pieces, and visual art that it is. It’s been an inspiring journey. By Jonty Reid, Year 13 student editor
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A good friend of mine once said “Life (IB in particular), is like a football match, no matter how stressful or important it is, you must always remember to enjoy the game ”. This quote lingers in my mind, day and night. After thinking about the quote aimlessly, I decided that I needed to do an activity that is both creative and enjoyable; something that would allow me to give back to the BISP community. Then, this wonderful opportunity pops up: BISP Literary Magazine. After the first meeting with the team, I thought about this particular person and the quote they shared with me. Making this magazine would be an enjoyable ride for me. I would get to see the works of the talented photographers and artists, as well as read all the pieces of the skilled writers. But then I thought, this magazine would also be an enjoyable task for the entire BISP community (or anyone who wishes to read it). The pictures and pieces of writing will move you and take you on a journey; one I hope you will never forget. For the artists, photographers and writers who have allowed us to display your talent, thank you for being inspiring. And for the people reading this magazine, I wish you to be inspired, but also to take this journey, and be inspiring. By Andrea Hosking, Year 12 student editor
"Once we depart leave your footprints in the sands of time.’’ This is this year’s quote for our magazine and also the quote which many years ago inspired me to become someone who people will remember after I have left the world. It is what drove me to join the Literary Magazine. Photography is a passion I have gained over the years and I have come to appreciate it as a unique medium of expression of a person’s true self. Through this I hope that my enrolment in the club will allow me to see the true nature of people and allow them to showcase themselves to the world. By Samuele Rossi, Year 12 student editor
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So far, my time in BISP is another chapter in life that will always be in my heart. Coming across people of all walks of life filled with different personalities and talents, their endless creativity and energy making BISP a truly unique place. With endless potentials come great opportunities to show what we the BISP students are made of; one of them is the chance to be part of a great team of student editors for BISP’s Be Inspired magazine. For me, I believe that language is a powerful tool that makes us who we are and what we can be. One of my favourite novels is “Nineteen Eighty-Four” and it truly shows the capability that language has to shape our society. Within it is a quote that sums up our capacity in making a difference “He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.” Therefore I see that everyone in BISP has the ability to show their talent and skills to make a difference, and the Be Inspired magazine is an example of our school’s potential, prowess and ingenuity. I want to thank all the writers, photographers, artists, Mrs. Clarke and the other editors who have taken the initiative to become part of a crew because without them we wouldn’t be able to create such a wonderful achievement. By Thanadon (Albert) Tantivit, Year 12 student editor
As a student who has been a member of the BISP community for over 15 years, I have been given the opportunity to see the minds of brilliant artists and writers at work. I have been given the opportunity to see something that may have appeared so dull, transformed into something far beyond beauty. I as an artist have been inspired. By joining the literary magazine, I am able to share the beauties captured in a snapshot and the beauty captured within the ink of a pen. I have been given the opportunity to inspire myself and others. By Tanya Taunton, Year 12 student editor
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As an art student I appreciate beauty, difference, simplicity and complexity. I have been exposed to multicultural art styles, artists and forms. I as one have been able to see the individuals at BISP and see the magnificent pieces of writing they produce. By joining the Literary Magazine I have been given the opportunity to see the creative writing of people who are my peers. By Abby Selfridge, Year 12 student editor
It has been a both a privilege and a pleasure to work with this group of student editors. Undertaking to commit to the magazine is admirable given the vast number of tasks involved, balanced against the quite significant academic workload each student carries. The process starts with a blank slate that must be filled, whereby content is gathered, selected, edited, formatted and finally presented for publication. This is quite a daunting task at the beginning and the words of Elizabeth Gilbert ring true: ‘Embrace the glorious mess that you are.’ As a veteran teacher about to hang up her hat, I have enjoyed every minute of the glorious mess and have found it immensely satisfying to promote the creativity of students. I invite you to celebrate the many talents of our young people at BISP. By Julie J. Clarke, Advisor for ‘Be Inspired’
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Blank Polaroid Where the colours lie and all that's in between All the pictures there begin with a "might" But they all end somewhere when time intervenes The clock’s arm shatters the sky like broken glasses Eyes closed before the sunlight Yet still exposed to the white shadows it casts Look upon the glowing yet broken sight Whether it's the storm or the smile At the very tip of your finger is where they all reunite The structure of a moment can be so fragile And after the rain clouds fall onto the lawn The sound of wind may return, but the pieces may never be recompiled The permanence is forever gone So would you remember what was taken on a blank polaroid Even when the memory has never been acted on? By Tanasorn Rojanasingsawad, Year 12
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Photo by Abby Selfridge, Year 12
Dreams A dream is a goal, A goal is something to improve on, Something to improve on is success, Success is happiness. Happiness is something you can spread. So spread it. By Arina Evtushenko, Year 7
Photo by Ayu Boehmer, Year 8
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It was a perfect autumn day. The sky was dotted with a few candy-floss clouds and the big red disk of the sun was slowly setting down behind the hill. The trail towards the entrance was covered with little candles, lights of which flickered carefully. People came and went like waves, crowding the space. Down the valley children ran around enjoying the fresh breath of air and activities presented, such as paintballing, bowling, drawing and more. Their smiles shone through the face paint. They were butterflies, frogs, nymphs and deer and different spirits; this was the last goodbye before the cold winter’s day take over. The costumes were as colourful as an autumn forest bold yellows, magenta, ruby red, emerald green. No one walked anywhere, everyone jogged, jumped, danced, swirled, swayed, skipped, creating a cacophony of faces, dresses and colours. The best part was the food. Tables loaded with delicacies, ready to make one mouths water, were spread around. Whole roasted deer and pigs still turning on spits, sprinkled with rosemary and lemon sauce, smoked sausages and pineapple glazed ham, diced pumpkin, marinated in butter and spices, fried over hot stones. On the other side tables were loaded with sweets. Aromatic cinnamon apple pies, hot chocolate puddings, apricot cheesecakes and lots more. Countless cheeses, breads, vegetables, fruits and waterfalls of wine and other spirits, which flickered like flames The music floated on the breeze like the colourful leaves, raining down from the gigantic tree. Slow motifs of jazz and old Celtic singing crawled up your veins, saving us from the cold of the reaching night. Masks were the gems of the night. They created a sense that anything is possible. They were all different; unique in style and purpose. The leather mask of one of the ladies passing by represented a bird. The red and black ornament, with a gold frame surrounding the holes for the eyes, a hook and three black feathers sticking out of the top. Another represented a fox. It was fully orange, as if the fire took off the beautiful lines of symmetry, and had a black frame around the wide hole for the eyes. Everything created a sense of suspense and adventurism. No one knew each other, they were strangers, representing their own beasts. The night was full of secrets and this added flame to the growing fire of mystery. Later into the night, the beautiful celebration of the last day of autumn became a festival of lights. Along the dark trail surrounded by trees hundreds of lamps were illuminated by the flickering candles. Everywhere were people in their winter thick woollen jackets, mittens and scarves. To add a poignant note to the last goodbye, children carried lamps of their own, their gentle puffs were made visible by the glow, only to disappear into the inkiness of the night. Stars sparkled like little diamonds over the obsidian sky. By Maria Pridhodko, Year 12
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Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
The Window Open the window, Maybe you might see a magical candy land that is weird or you might see Antarctic mountains! Open the mysterious window, Maybe you can see lofty pencils that are actually fantastic trees, Or you can see a brave wolf that is white and black. Open the window, Maybe you can see apricot, gold leaves! Or you can see pleasant bird eggs that actually don’t belong to glorious birds. By Kristina Beliaeva, Year 4AJ Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
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Grandma’s Magic Watch Hi there. I’m Harry and I’m 10 years old. Today I’m going to Grandpa’s house with my sister, my mum, my dad and my best friend Charlie. We get into the car and we are off. 30 minutes pass. . . . We’ve arrived! Mum rings the doorbell. The door slowly opened and there in front of me was a tall man with light grey hair. “Grandpa!” I shouted running to him. “Come Harry, I have something to give you,” he answered and took out a watch made of gold. “This used to belong to your grandma. She told me to give it to you when she died.” The adults and my sister Lottie went to the garden whilst Charlie and me went to the living room. I turned the knob since it was set on the wrong time. As soon as I turned it out came a note. This is what it said. “Dear Harry. I wish that you like this watch. It is different to other watches because it is magic. If you turn the knob 3 times and then tap the surface 3 times you will shrink and be able to talk and understand animals.” “Wow,” said Charlie. “Let’s try it out. There’s a hole in the floorboards over there so we can shrink ourselves and then explore underneath the house!” “OK” I said. So we held hands and turned the knob 3 times. Next I tapped the surface 3 times. We both shrank until we were 1cm. Charlie went down first. Then I went. “It’s super dark down here,” I said. [11]
“You’ll get used to it,” Charlie answered. “Let’s go that way.” So off we went. We walked and walked until we came to a dead end. “Charlie,” I said unhappily, “I think we are lost.” We both looked around. Then Charlie answered, “I think you are probably right.” Suddenly we heard a noise. At the exact same time we both looked behind us. The noise that we heard was from a brown furry dormouse. “Charlie, remember the note said we can speak to animals? Well, we could ask this dormouse if he could kindly lead us to the hole in the floorboards,” I said. “Good idea ,” Charlie answered as he turned back to the mouse. “Mr Mouse, could you kindly lead us to the hole in the floorboards?” “With pleasure,” it answered. And he lead me and Charlie to the hole. “Bye!” said the mouse and off he went. I got out first. Then Charlie got out. Next we turned the knob 3 times and tapped the surface 3 times. And we turned back into our normal sizes just as my mum, Lottie and dad were saying bye. We said bye then got into the car. “Did you have an exciting time?” Mum asked. “Yes, a very exciting time,” we answered. And we shared a smile. By Eileen Page, Year 4AH Photo by Bhudis Chitchonthan, Year 7
Watching my Puppy We have just received a new puppy in our home, her name is Skye. She arrived by plane from Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand and we met her at the cargo terminal when she landed. We were so excited. She is a Golden Retriever and is 8 weeks old. Skye is a lively and active puppy and if we want to take care of her we need to watch her, a lot. When she wakes up in the morning the first thing we do is take her to the toilet, to make sure she doesn’t go in the house. We have to train her in lots of ways and in order to do that we need to observe her. The whole family works slowly and gently with her because all the things we are teaching her are all new to her. She is like a newborn baby but learns much faster. We like to watch her behaviour to understand when she is hungry, when she is tired, when she wants to play, when she is thirsty and when she needs to go to the toilet. Skye is teaching me to be patient and to use the same commands so she understands me. Keeping a watchful eye on Skye’s health is also important. Checking her paws, claws, ears, nose and skin to see if she has an infection is part of the task of looking after a puppy. If she is sick then we need to take her to the vet. Recently she did have a small ear infection and then we had to take her to the vet. The vet said said it was not so bad and gave her a little bottle of ear drops. Skye is eager to learn and I am eager to teach her. Sometimes I like to watch Photo by Evangeline Willatts, Year 11
Skye sleep and I think that she likes to watch me too. I know that because I sometimes notice when she sleeps, and her eyes are not fully closed. Sometimes Skye likes to chew things she shouldn’t, like the TV remote control, tissue paper, toilet rolls, my pyjama bottoms and sometimes my Dad’s shoes ! We walk her on the street each day with a lead on, she is too young to walk without a lead yet. She uses her nose to smell everything, she picks [12]
up different scents and follows them. When I'm outside with her, if I have a handful of treats she will come running to me. We are all waiting for her to be old enough for us to take her on longer walks. She needs to sleep and eat a lot. She eats very quickly 4 times per day and she sleeps 18 hours per day. We love our new family member and I love to watch her grow, I can't wait to tell you the next chapter of Skye’s life. By Lucy Cunningham, Year 5KT
Holiday Descriptive Writing - Mount Wellington, Tasmania Stepping out of the car, an aroma of fresh, cool air greeted my nose with open arms. The aroma gave you a feeling of relaxation. Each breath taken in felt like opening the windows on an spring morning which was refreshing. The air made you feel cleaner than newly polished, milky marble as the air brushed against the surface of your skin, leaving your skin feeling rejuvenating. The wind sent a chilly sensation that tingled through your body as it danced delicately past you. The rugged rocks, all in different shapes and sizes, stood strong among the clouds, they were crowded together like a pack of wolves that were inseparable. Rocks, once smooth ended up jagged by erosion, poked up from the surface of the mountains embracing the clouds. The clouds were the colour of ice-crystal. The sun desperately made its way to peek through the gaps of the clouds. The sun glistened and shone throughout the area. The clouds formed a neat pattern delicately laid out, as perfect like pure raindrops lined upon a leaf. The sky is a thin, fragile blanket the colour of an aquamarine gemstone. The sky was endless, spreading as far as your eyes could see. The scenery looked planned and painted out by mother nature. The sun radiated from the sky and bounced from cloud to cloud with delight like toddlers jumping from trampoline to trampoline at a birthday. The mountains pierced the sky and loomed ahead which seemed infinite. Some mountains were covered with a thick layer of cloud blocking the alluring view. The clouds were swept away by the wind leaving a breathtaking view which was a sight your eyes could never forget. By Rhiannon Dickson, Year 10 [13]
Photo by Evangeline Willatts, Year 11
Youth and Old Age Young broken bones heal quick, Old broken, stay broken. Young broken hearts heal quick, Old broken, stay broken.
Age didn’t make me old, Age is just a number. I decided I was old, When I was faced with a youthful vis-a-vis.
Living the nostalgia of carelessness And the days all-so-different, I didn’t believe them saying that misery Would be what I’m staring at.
Trying to remember What my childhood was like, Makes me feel even older. My memory is tricky.
I have seen the cycle of life repeating, Saplings of the tree growing. Their lives seem Just so relatable.
I live two different lives One of the present in my body, And one of the past In my head.
But the further I go The more it feels distant, And the happy-go-lucky Looks opposite in the eyes.
Young broken bones heal quick, Old broken, stay broken. Young broken hearts heal quick, Old broken, stay broken.
Young broken bones heal quick, Old broken, stay broken. Young broken hearts heal quick, Old broken, stay broken.
By Arijus Pavlidi, Year 10
Photo by Mila Cota, Year 6CM
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The Bedroom It is all alone in this room, its bedroom. Pitch black and full of disgusting body odour and the scorching, deathly smell that’s strong enough to knock out anyone who dares enter. Windows shut, curtains pulled tightly closed. There it lies… the big rotten teenager stuck in this so called bedroom. By Chinawat (Jai) Gleave, Year 10
Metallic Monster Looming over me, a metallic monster. Its destructive power clear as day. I refused to back down, although I knew how easily it could kill me. It approached closer and in that moment I knew that my bravery to face it was short lived Mother screamed "Plane!" Everything went black… By Nakhon Morey, Year 7
Watching over Skipping through fields of flowers, picking them softly as I run. Mind as blank as a piece of paper, no thoughts through my head. No worries. No cares. Nothing but blank. Then looking over the edge I see him, I see them. I’m watching over as though I never left. By Georgie Fraser, Year 10
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Photo by Mila Cota, Year 6CM
The Short Voyage I am lying on the edge of my boat looking into the deep, cold waters. I sit up, slowly watching my boat drift away from the peaceful land I was on. My brother jumps on and flips over the inflated boat and we plummet to the bottom of the pool. By Mikhail Grebeshkov Year 7
Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
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The Raging War The battle raged on. Monsters roared, warriors charged. The battle was chaotic. Giants swung their stone clubs and archers fired their bows. Knights hacked away at the beasts. Soldiers, archers, monsters and giants lay still. Then blackness. The boy yelled as his computer shutdown, “No! That was the final level!� By Kieran Quilty, Year 7
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Photo by Samuele Rossi, Year 12
Someone is watching you… ‘Gorentina, can you please help me go shopping?’ shouted Mum. ‘Yes, Mum I’m just finishing my homework.’ Gorentina was a beautiful young girl who lived with her mum. Her dad had passed away in a car crash the year before. Gorentina was worried and scared after her father’s death because she felt like someone was watching her. ‘Gorentina, are you coming or not!’ mum screeched out loud, ‘Okay, mum coming!’ Gorentina slammed the door hard and raced towards the front gate, put on her coat and followed her mum who had strolled ahead. They walked halfway when suddenly her mum needed the bathroom so she told her daughter to go first and handed her the shopping list. Gorentina sauntered on by herself and wondered why the street seemed so empty. She looked left and right and then noticed a man. A really strange man who kept looking at her. He was wearing a hat so she couldn't really see his face but she recognized him somehow. Suddenly the man stepped forward so she ran as fast as a cheetah to the shopping mall. When she entered the food store, Gorentina immediately spotted her mum getting a trolley. ‘Oh, there you are! Where were you Gorentina and why are you sweating so hard?’ Her daughter couldn't even say a word. When she finally spoke, she managed to utter ‘Umm, nowhere, nowhere at all. I was just…. umm having a break.’ She whispered and hung her head down. ‘Oh, ok Gorentina, where is the list I gave you?’ She grabbed the list out of her pocket and followed her mum. Gorentina felt like someone was watching her, or rather stared at her. She looked back but no one was there so she told her mum that she had a headache and wanted to go home. Mum took her back to the house and left to shop again. Gorentina thought about the man she had seen earlier when suddenly she heard: ‘ Someone is watching YOU!’ Goosebumps ran all over her arms so she closed her eyes for a minute. ‘Gorentina, are you awake? It’s time for dinner,’ Mum shouted. She jumped out of bed and walked slowly to the kitchen. ‘Oh dear, oh dear! I forgot to get my glasses upstairs,’ Mum blurted out and stomped upstairs and so the room was silent. Gorentina started to cut her steak but felt like someone was watching her again. She turned around but no one was there. She kept on eating until her mum returned. ‘Mum, I forgot something in the shop, I need to go and get it!’ Gorentina needed to find out what was going on, so she dashed where she first saw the man. She spotted him standing alone in the dark, crept up to him and pushed him over. ‘Ouch!’ the man shouted angrily ‘Who are you?’ Gorentina queried. The man didn’t say a word for a minute. ‘You can’t remember?’ He flew up to the sky and disappeared. Gorentina hurried home, sat on her comfy bed and wondered who he could be … Suddenly a tap on the window startled her. The man opened it, threw a paper at her and vanished. It was hard to decipher as it was all wet and almost torn apart. ‘I MET U IN THE MALL, I MET U ON THE STREET. U ARE AFRAID OF ME BUT U KNOW ME REALLY WELL. I AM YOUR U KNOW WHO AND DON’T FORGET THAT. I WILL ALWAYS BE WATCHING YOU…’ she knew at once who he was… By Tanyatorn (Tantan) Tiewlamsam, Year 6KC
Photo by Mila Cota, Year 6CM
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Mount Everest As big as a thousand skyscrapers Walls as steep as waterfalls As white as a polar bear’s clean teeth As cold as Antarctican icicles Mount Everest By Year 2AL
The Witch Witches make disgusting potions. This witch has made a potion with spider legs that move in it. This witch put in a rotten, dead fish. Smelly socks are in it. When this witch said the spell, a giant, smelly worm appeared. By Zoe Kosmas, Year 2MB
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Photo by Zara Ferguson, Year 6KC
The Window Go and open the window. Maybe outside there’s an enchanting lilac coloured book or a cute elf, a magical adorable Unicorn or a grand tree house. Go and open the window. Maybe a spellbinding angel is floating slowly, Maybe you’ll see tiny cloud men, a fairy, a shimmering, glistening, clear pond or an amusing bird. Go and open the window. If there’s a monstrous fog it will clear. Go and open the window. Even if there’s only ugly mist, even if there’s only the extremely boring sound of the wind, even if nothing is there… Go and open the window. At least there’ll be a splendid draught. By Heather Page, 4AJ
Photo by Ayu Boehmer, Year 8
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Our Path The plant, the flower The eternal shower of youth. Imperfections dutifully plucked, Untarnished. Unrealistic. Something we strive towards. Forwards, the only direction we’re told to move But why? Is it wrong for us to take our own way? Augment beauty, and they’ll cheer but, Make something worse, no one will hear it. “Don’t go near it”, they’ll say “That’s enough”, and “let’s call it a day” We each have a journey, Sometimes together, But let’s make this one better So many paths scorched by yesterday’s fires, The flame extinguished, the ashes remain. That fertile soil that nurtures life So soon, so soon it blossoms, The perpetual cycle begins again. Each with purpose, Each, a goal. Something it strives towards, Forwards, the direction we move. That path to make our own... By Jonty Reid, Year 13
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Photo by Anoma Thawornbut, Year 6SC
Rusty’s Adventure Rusty was a lost little robot, blue and rusty, battered and dented but still alive. He yawned, noticing a crunchy orange maple leaf. He jumped onto it then noticed others, ricocheting from leaf to leaf. He really was enjoying the beauty of the place. Rusty had always wondered where he belonged. Little did he know that he was from Robocorp. He was distracted from his thoughts by a loud rumbling sound. ‘What is that?’ he wondered as he looked up and saw some pitch, black smoke following on from the sound. ‘I’ve never seen that,’ he thought, making a decision to follow the smoke. He saw lots of metal boxes with wheels moving along a long metal ladder that stretched out in the distance – wagons! He kept looking and saw the Robocorp sign on the side of a wagon. He realized that this matched the sign on his chest. ‘If I am right, I might be able to go home,’ he thought. So he jumped onto a rusty wagon, collapsing onto a heap of old, yellow pillows, and in his own way, he fell asleep. Suddenly he awoke and heard another rumbling sound. He found himself inside a dark factory. Instantly, he felt nauseous. This place was too clean. He saw blazing floodlights and the colour drained from his face. He crept away out of sight and then ran as fast as he could. Rusty stepped on a maple leaf and suddenly remembered his house. He ripped off his sign, picked up the maple leaf and walked the long journey home. By Valentin Marquet, Year 5SD
Photo by Daria Cota, Year 6SC
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Window Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a huge giant, a crazy broken city or Jamie. Go and open the window. Maybe there’s a classroom full of homework, a forest with an endless path or Donald building a wall. Go and open the window. Is there a person there, saying where are we? Go and open the window. If Santa’s coming down your chimney go to sleep to get a magical present. Go and open the window, At least there’ll be darkness! By Oliver Walton, Year 4AJ
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Photo by Archie McConnell, Year 6CM
Love Love is the colour indigo blue. Love tastes like yummy chocolate milk. Love smells like lavender in the field. Love looks like a yellow sunflower in the garden. Love is the sound of playing the piano and birds singing. Love feels like soft like a cuddly toy. By Timmy Zitek & Milly Turner, Year 2JC
Anger Anger is the colour red, like someone’s face holding their breath. Anger tastes like dog food breath. Anger smells like spicy onions. Anger looks like a scary monster. Anger is the sound of a spooky alien. Anger feels like screaming and sadness. By Pitchaporn (Proud) Tharaporn & Alexander (Tomy) Sokhatskiy, Year 2JC
Excitement Excitement is the colour green, like the grass of a football field. Excitement tastes like cotton candy on my tongue. Excitement smells like chocolate. Excitement looks like dancing in a disco. Excitement is the sound of a dog barking. Excitement feels like butterflies. By Riley Gates & Lehu (Max) Wang, Year 2JC Art by Anusmita Bhattacharya, Alexandra Starostina & Chloe Spinoglio, Year 9
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Fear Fear is the colour red like blood. Fear tastes like venom and poison. Fear smells like smoke. Fear looks like alligators and anacondas stalking you. Fear is the sound of a grandfather clock chiming. Fear feels like King Kong is grabbing you. By Myles Massey & Ryan Duncanson, Year 2JC
Fun Fun is the colour of sunsets and turquoise blue like the sea. Fun tastes like watermelon. Fun smells like orange roses. Fun looks like basketball games. Fun is the sound of laughter. Fun feels like birthday parties. By Chanon (Cael) Ferguson & Maya Alkan, Year 2JC
Laughter Laughter is the colour yellow like the sun. Laughter tastes like sweet candy and chocolate ice cream. Laughter smells like white blossoms. Laughter looks like smiling in the playground. Laughter is the sound of children playing games. Laughter feels like you are soon getting a puppy. By Sofia Shvedova & Techapat (Title) Rakwong, Year 2JC
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Photo by Anoma Thawornbut, Year 6SC
Peace Peace is the colour light blue, like the sky. Peace tastes like yummy chicken nuggets. Peace smells like beautiful pale pink lilies. Peace looks like the rainbow in the sky. Peace is the sound of angels singing. Peace feels like playing with friends. By Dakota Kaliss & Ksenia Doroshenko, Year 2JC
Photo by Pathanat Damton, Year 8
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Kindness Kindness is the colour of lollies - pink, blue and green. Kindness tastes like crispy cookies and cakes. Kindness smells like red roses and hot tea. Kindness looks like a ladybug and a butterfly. Kindness is the sound of the stars twinkling and the wind. Kindness feels like giving toys to children. By Katherine Flint & Sofia Miaoran Shi, Year 2JC
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Photo by Ayu Boehmer, Year 8
Sadness Sadness is the colour greyish blue, like a storm cloud. Sadness tastes like very sad tears dropping into your mouth. Sadness smells like very spicy candy. Sadness looks like dead animals. Sadness is the sound of crying. Sadness feels like everyone in your family is far away and you are left alone in the house. By Lia Kunz & Krit (Tonklah) Upatising, Year 2JC
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
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As I Watched The sand felt hot and the waves touched my feet leaving small bubbles that popped one by one. As I stood there the sun was burning my back, my shoulders were turning a painful pink and I longed for some shade. I took a deep breath that filled my mouth with a salty taste. Looking out to the sparkling turquoise sea, I saw the water receding and it left beautiful shells scattered along the beach. Some were glittering in the light, iridescent and luminous. I was tempted to go and pick some up so I took one little step. I paused. A memory. Walking across the beach with my parents, we are looking for shells in all colours and shades. Mum is collecting them in her yellow bucket; it is half full when she cries out, “A crab!” Dad reaches in and removes the creature, laughing at her for being ridiculous. Then all three of us start giggling and splashing water at each other trying to get ourselves wet. I am soaked! My top is clinging to me and sand has attached to my legs so I run into the sea full of energy, happy to be there. Just a memory but I remembered it so clearly it was as though it was happening to me as I stood there.
The sand still felt hot and the waves were biting my toes, my feet sinking into clammy sand. The sun was still burning my back, my shoulders were an angry red. I desperately needed some shade. Salt was encrusted round my eyes from my tears and from the sea. I saw the water receding fast and it left fish flapping scattered along the beach. Some were trying to find water, thrashing and beating at the sand. I was fearful so I took one uneasy step backwards. As I did, my mouth dried up and I felt a shiver down my back. I froze where I was. I watched. I heard the birds squawking and saw fish flopping around me trying to get some water. The sky suddenly darkened. As I looked up I saw a flock of birds fly away. Something was definitely wrong. I didn’t dare move or breathe. At last I took a breath. My palms were sweaty; I didn't feel right. I knew what was happening - a tsunami was coming. Disastrous, colossal and fatal. From out at sea a call. A voice I recognised at once. From out at sea, my father’s voice, “Come on, Jacob. We’re here. Come and join us...” All I could do was stand and watch.
But that was all before. Before the crash; the crash that cruelly took them from me. The crash that made my heart break. Now I live with my aunt and her three children. I know she loves me but its not the same as being with my mum and dad. I dream of them every night wishing they would come back to me. [29]
By Eloise Stockings, Year 6SC
Photo by Pathanat Damton, Year 8
The Ocean The ocean is a midnight peacock with a touch of emerald. The ocean is ample, it covers half the world., To see the crystal ocean you have to admire every spot. To see the dusky ocean, search for jewelled pocket-sized shells. To hear the silent ocean you have to detect the fishes’ bubbles swimming round. To hear the peaceful ocean put your head in the water and listen for the melodic waves. To feel the soaking sea walk into the fresh sea water. To feel the soggy ocean move your toes in the tender sand. By Isabella Turnbull, Year 4AJ
Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
[30]
Mountain HikeÂÂ My legs are shaking and my feet feel heavy buried in the coat of fresh glistening glazed snow. The icy wind was cutting sharply into the stinging temples of my face. My rosy flushed cheeks stand out in the vigorous blizzard. The billions of layers of clothing seem nothing but thin and ineffective in this moment. The world appears to be at my feet. And standing in front of my very own eyes is a sumptuous immense mountain top. It is barely visible, slightly hidden by the cilled mist. The only sounds heard in this magical moments are the ones of the powerful blizzard howling like a wolf. Accompanied by the grumbling of the snow pushed down the hill. The view is dizzying, almost giving me nausea yet at the same time, I struggle to take [31]
my eyes off it. My nose was too blocked for me to smell anything but my own flesh but I desperately wanted to smell the pines masked by snow. The weight of my body, still feeling twice as heavy as usual just rested on the almost on the verge of the cliff. But at this point, my brain was too fatigued to care in the slightest way. Somehow, the snow was slowly creeping and seeping into my thick mountain shoes, soaking a part of my sock which caused shivers to be sent down my spine. I just admired the stillness and the purity of the silent mountain. I would not want to be anywhere else but here. By Lilyjane Maraux Galle, Year 11 Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
Legend of our Hearts One morning in a day of stormy clouds a boy called John walked into the library. The library was empty but there was a book and the book had a key inside. John turned the key and suddenly… a portal opened bringing John inside. ‘Help!’ he yelled as he went into the story, ‘Moby Dick.’ He landed on a ship and fainted. Soon a splashing sound was heard. ‘He’s here!’ shouted the pirate captain. ‘Who’s here?’ asked John. ‘Moby!’ shouted the first pirate angrily. Then CRUNCH, a whale bit the boat. John escaped only to get eaten, but luckily a portal opened inside the whale’s mouth. By Kanat (Luga) Kewkacha, Year 3JM
Photo by Evangeline Willatts, Year 11
[32]
Teachers: Our OasisÂÂ The hatred , like heat Scorches throughout society Prickling our skin with burns Hardships roar like waves of sandstorm But teachers, like an oasis Amidst the desert Spread hope and love Throughout this dry land Amongst the reality Of narcissistic communities Teachers work with passion Like droplets of water Sprouting buds and turning A dead kingdom of the sand Into beautiful greeneries By Pawarisa (Misolar) Udomsapaya, Year 10 [33]
Photo by Daria Cota, Year 6SC
Pasko Na Naman We had gathered around the dinner table like a group of ants surrounding pieces of fallen crumbs. The warmth of the food beat the cold December night. The steaming hot bibingkas beautiful aroma filled the kitchen air. The puto bumbong was sprinkled with sugar and coconut shavings which sparkled like fireworks exploding in the sky.The dinuguan spread throughout the plate like spilled ink on a piece of paper. Each served meal placed on our plates mixing like paint on a palette ready to be brushed on canvas. The bright orange hue of the shrimp’s skin crunched with every spoon that scooped it up. With the hot sinigang soup burning your tongue and the rich taste of adobo (1) filling your mouth, it brings you back home. Forming goosebumps and sweating at the mere thought of the the unique Filipino flavors making contact with your taste buds. The smell of the barbecue smoke filling up your nostrils making you drool from the imagination of devouring the sweet and salty roasted pork on a stick. Hearing the ice plop as the bubbly carbonated drink drops through its cracks, like pebbles bouncing through the surface of the clear water. The feeling of desperation to taste these wonderful meals with the most wonderful people fills up your heart making you think, “Pasko na naman, umuwi na tayo.”(2) (1) Bibingka, Puto Bumbong, Dinuguan, Sinigang, Adobo : Traditional Filipino food (2) “Pasko na naman, umuwi na tayo.” : It’s Christmas again, let’s go home. By Louise (Max) Alviz, Year 11
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
[34]
Christmas Morning The sound of a metallic knife piercing the wooden board from the kitchen forced me to pull up my heavy body and open the curtains. The golden, luminous gleam of the morning light gently crept into my dark room – an endless black hole, temporarily blinding my hazy eyes. I resist taking the soft and warm like a mother’s embrace sheet off, to protect myself against the tranquil but chilly winter air. Chop, chop, chop. The elegant scent of a boiling miso soup glided across the ceiling and trickled into my bee-stung like nose. My pale skin was still unfamiliar of the change from the tropical, moist land I came from yesterday. Once I had yawned like a hippopotamus, I had the urge to pull my body away from the comfy mattress and reach out for the green, silky curtains. As I delicately tie each curtains together with a long ribbon, the once thin gleam expanded into an infinite wave of radiant sunshine. My pupils dilated and my jaws dropped with astonishment when the sapphire, blue sky was revealed to me. Magnificent. White snowflakes flawlessly fell towards the Earth’s core. It was like an army of heedful soldiers. As I peeked further down the apartment, the various coloured vehicles were covered in a pile of smooth, white snow. Bucheon was crowded with countless people energetically walking on the icy sidewalks, eagerly entering shops and coming out with enormous wrapped boxes. It felt like the area was the only place in the world where humans exist. I then realised today was a special day. I hear my mother calling my name. With a clear voice I reply, and open the door to my Christmas adventure. By Eddy Park, Year 11
[35]
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
As I hobbled across the street, a horse drawn carriage blasted around the cobblestoned street corner as fast as lightning. I was running awkwardly because my family could not afford proper clothing for me and I had been forced to wear my mother's shoes. Suddenly they slipped off my feet as the carriage flew by. One of the shoes was blown deep down into the snow and a boy had swiftly stolen the other. I screamed silently, “Why does everybody despise me!” I trudged on wearily with no shoes. My feet felt like they were going to pop off my body; I could tell I had a horrific case of frostbite. As I continued through the snow in my thin threadbare clothing I felt as if the snow in between my feet was trying to invade my bloodstream to freeze me from the inside out. It quite literally seemed as if the cold air was slowly killing me. As I tramped through the snow, I could smell the Christmas dinners on the tables. Boy I would have died to get a bite of the turkey, but I was stuck on the street, unwelcome in any household including my own. That is until I sold any matches, but by this time of night it was pointless. I could see families sitting at their dinner tables, happy as can be, while I was stuck in the cold harsh winter streets; children who didn’t have to work, sitting in their nice warm homes. I found a little alleyway. I curled up in a ball to try to keep warm. I did all that I could to keep alive, holding onto my last shred of hope. By Zander Kosmas, Year 6SC
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
[36]
A Simile For Mummy As sweet as honey As bright as a lollipop Eyes as brown as a hazelnut As elegant as a fashion model As soft as cuddly pillows As loving as a mother bear Her hug is as cozy as a deep hole filled with feathers As beautiful as looking over the clouds As simple as white Hair as glossy as oil As exotic as the jungle As kind as a baby angel And as perfect as her. By Hiisan Kim, Year 4MM
[37]
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
The Little Spy I am hidden from everyone. I can see them but they can’t see me. The thick tree branches protect me from slithering snakes and monsters. Sneaking, silently dropping down on my prey like a grey, angel of death, I pounce on a salad green mamba. My prize must be kept away from other cats so I can enjoy my lunch. I drag it off to my place of refuge in the long grass and daintily eat my kill. Whenever I am looking for the prey I can see how people from the neighbouring houses are going into the school. I see our neighbour tidying her garden and I spot a black snake as long as a man’s arm and as thick as a garden hose behind her. The time for watching is over and the time for rescuing is here! The serpent is gliding towards its victim. She turns around and wails, ‘ah, it’s a snake!’ I dive on the snake and overwhelm it with my knife-sharp claws, paralysing it. The lady is panicked and she sits down on the grass. I come over and wind myself around her. She calms down and strokes me. I am so proud of myself! Later in the afternoon, when the kids return from school, she tells them the story of how I protected her from the snake. After hearing this the kids decide to adopt me and make me part of the family. I am so happy about this and purr and purr. Even now, having my own family I am always walking outside and watching in case somebody else needs help too. I will always be watching. By Taisiia Chernova, Year 6CM Photo by Mila Cota, Year 6CM
[38]
Year 1 study the properties and applications of different building materials. Here are their reflections. Wood is sometimes brown like toast Or white like our school walls. When we touch it, it feels rough and bumpy. Wood smells like a tree and can do amazing things like turn into paper, tables, doors and even jewellery. Metal is usually silver like coins. Touching it feels cold and strong. Bricks are many colours like brown, orange and white. They often feel hard but sometimes they feel smooth. Glass can be any colour, like stained glass. You can see through it. We can use it to make windows and doors, jewellery, clocks and watches. By Year 1CC [39]
Photo by Mila Cota, Year 6CM
Duffy Pastiche HestiaÂÂ My skin kissed The sunlight as I picked fruits Back and forth My hands swept Not a spot Back and forth The rags dragged Not a spot But then an unexpected shout Hampered my breath You were an anchor that held me down And dragged me to the bottom of the ocean My hands were knives and my touches turned to cuts You had our infinity, which you could not give me I saw bouquets, I saw roses, I saw lilies. But like all flowers, they would wither and die. Photo by Taisiia Chernova, Year 6CM
And as your face drew closer Mine distanced But your sweat still ran down my neck And your words were shoved into my ears You held me in your palm, but you were scared Before you closed your hand Before you consumed me A bray slit the tension like a razor blade You panicked, Then I had an opportunity Then I ran until my feet hurt Built a home A new one And started clean Picked the fruits Swept the floors Cleaned the tables always be watching. [40]
PersephoneÂÂ The sound of chains and dragging feet Were caught across the searing floor While hands were clawing at the gates
The air was cool The skies were blue And the water stood still As the birds would sing While the wind whistled wearily
I walked across hot coals My soles burned with every step Leaving my feet with blackened skin And my heart burned until there was nothing left but ash But you were never here unless you were in the mood
Then black clouds crowded the sky The water rippled And the birds were silenced
Alone I walked the dogs of hell I cleaned, I moaned, I worked all under your spell Your home was black with chipping walls The roof was stone and the windows were barred
Your hand shot out of the ground It grasped my ankle and pulled me down. Down. My days were no longer filled with joy And the things I once loved I could not enjoy
I gathered my fire I broke from your spell And set your heart aglow Left you how you left me Scorched and nowhere to go
You fed me seeds from a pomegranate and showed me all your writings I was bound to you Like there was a rusty chain Tied around my waist to yours
By Donovan Gaebel, Year 13 All around bitter faces shrieked Of women trapped, ones here before me [41]
Photo by Taisiia Chernova, Year 6CM
The Window Go and open the window. Maybe outside there’s a bright amber coloured sun, or emerald green leaves flowing down the wide floor. Maybe there’s an indigo blue, gummy bear swinging, or a scarlet red racing car. Go and open the window. Maybe a spellbinding wizard is sleeping. Maybe you’ll see a tall magical building or a majestic cottage, or a dazzling sapphire river, or a huge chestnut coloured gorilla damaging the city. Go and open the window If there’s a disagreeably ugly fog it will clear eventually. Go and open the window Even if there’s only dark shiny rain, even if there’s only the sound of the wind, even if nothing is there, go and open the window. At least there be a lovely draught. By Ploy Tantaweewong, Year 4AJ Photo by Pathanat Damton, Year 8
[42]
วรรณกรรม “อยู ่กับก๋ง” โดยนักเรียนเยียร์ 4 อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อรู ้คุณค่าของชี วิต (วันวิสา Year 4AJ) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อเป็นคนซื่ อสัตย์และไม่โลภมาก (ธนวินท์ Year 4AH) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อรู ้จักความอดทนและความขยัน (ธฤตา Year 4AH) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อมีสติและไม่ท�ำผิด (พรไพลิน Year 4AH) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อมีน้ำ� ใจและช่ วยเหลือคนอื่น (ธัญธษร Year 4MM) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อดูแลตัวเองได้และมีอาชี พที่ดี (เบญจามินธ์ Year 4MM) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อรู ้จักรักชี วิตของคนอื่นและสัตว์อ่นื (ภวัฐ Year 4AJ) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อรู ้จักต่อสู้กับอุ ปสรรคต่าง ๆ (คณิน Year 4AH) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อรู ้จักความรักของพ่อและแม่ (พัฒนสิฐ Year 4MM) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อเป็นลูกที่ดีของพ่อแม่ (อเล็กซานดร้า Year 4MM) อยู ่กับก๋ง เพื่อไม่ท้อถอยและต้องก้าวต่อไปข้างหน้า (ณัฐกฤตา Year 4AJ) [43]
Photo by Tanya Taunton, Year 12
Cherry Wine There’s nothing better than sipping faith from the spirits, whose powers strengthened me, whose life defines me. When my time comes I only wish to go home to her, lay me in the cold dark earth to be whole again. The cherry wine of life, with its sweet nectar taste, has given me all it could, for now it is my time to meet the creators. By Samuele Rossi, Year 12 Photo by Thanadon Tantivit, Year 12
[44]
The Window Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a city full of busy people. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a glorious wheat farm. Go and open the window. Maybe there is a breathtaking dragon hatching her magnificent eggs.
Go and open the window. Maybe your neighbour is cooking a roast duck. Go and open the window. Maybe there is an orchestra playing pleasant music. Go and open the window. At least there will be a cold draught. By Thomas Zhou, Year 4AJ
[45]
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
I like cats but I don’t like dogs. I like swimming but I don’t like running. I like leopards but I don’t like tigers. I like rabbits but I don’t like mice. I like spaghetti but I don’t like sauce. I like skipping but I don’t like jumping. I like tomato sauce but I don’t like chilli sauce. I like fish but I don’t like pasta. I like sausages but I don’t like burgers. By Year 1JS Art by Dana Litvin, Year 5SD
[46]
My Letter S My letter S is smiling. My letter S is spotty. My letter S is happy. My letter S is walking. By Sofia Shvedova, Year 2JC
[47]
Art by Sofia Shvedova, Year 2JC
Sam was about to make a huge mistake… Sam was a student at Graham school in Brighton, England. He had a group of friends called Max, Henry, Freddie and Peter. Max was mad, Henry was horrid, Freddie was freaky, Peter was picky, and Sam was sly. All five of them were about to do something horrible to a poor student, Rufus Dufus. Rufus had been working on a sculpture for a very long time, but at breaktime Sam and his friends were planning on smashing it all up. After the bell went they went inside their classrooms. “Open your books up” said the teacher. But when Sam opened his book, it sucked him inside! Next thing he knew, he was falling through the sky, screaming. CRASH! He landed and Sam felt strange. He stood up and he felt a lot taller. He looked down and his legs were a lot longer. He looked at his arms and his arms were a lot hairier. He looked around and saw that he was standing on the Brighton Wheel. He heard screaming and saw people running around him. He was confused about what was happening.
“Who are you?” Sam asked. “Don’t you recognise me? I’m Rufus.” Rufus shouted. “Why are you doing this?” Sam said. “Ever since that day that you broke my sculpture I have been wanting to get revenge on you and the rest of the world that always made fun of me”. Rufus grabbed the controls and knocked down the wheel and the robot came in to grab Sam. Suddenly Sam vanished. He looked around again and he was back to his normal self in his classroom. He told his friends “We shouldn’t break Rufus’ Sculpture”. “Why?” they all asked. “Trust me. Don’t”. His friends didn’t listen to him. During lunch Sam spotted his friends going into the classroom. Sam grabbed Rufus and they sprinted off to the classroom too. Rufus and Sam ran in front of the sculpture to protect it from Max, Henry, Peter and Freddie. “You’ll regret it don’t do it!” Sam shouted. “We won’t!”. The gang pushed Rufus out of the way but then Sam pushed them all back. Max and the others walked away. Rufus thanked Sam for helping him. They walked off together becoming the bestest friends in the world. By Ruby Vidotto, Year 5KT
Suddenly he saw a big black robot moving around and squashing people. Sam recognised it. “That’s Rufus’ sculpture! But its massive!”. All of a sudden the robot started to come towards Sam. He tried to get out of the pod but he couldn’t! The robot was running faster and faster towards him, Sam was horrified. The robot finally reached the Brighton Wheel and then the robot started to open up. A man was standing inside of it!
Photo by Sofiya Goldman, Year 6KC
[48]
In the beginning, it was a wonderful island. It had waterfalls and lots of animals... but then one day a disease travelled to the island and poisoned most of the animals and the waterfalls turned into darkness. The animals mutated into a killing machine. They were made to kill or poison all of the remaining animals. Little did they know, lots of ships were heading their way and were coming to save all of the animals using their microbots that turn off the killing machines. When they finally arrived they turned off all of the killing machines and then the island was safe again. By Kyan Soudi, Year 5SD
[49]
Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
The Window Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a city where the people are working or going to work. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see the birds singing beautifully. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see the flash cars driving and the motorbikes beeping. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see your friends playing happily outside. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a picture of a picture of a picture. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a beautiful valley where the animals are playing or where the kangaroos hop joyfully. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see the wonderful breeze blowing and the birds flying in a group. Go and open the window. Maybe there will be a glancing diamond. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a party or a parade. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a wonderful paradise. Go and open the window. Maybe you will see a dream beach. By Robin Pagitsch, Year 4AJ
Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12
[50]
Reflection “No, I don’t want to go!” said from his bed. It's a million miles away from the safety of home. All the teachers and students I have to bear. Waiting for the clock to strike at three Praying if I will survive this hellish ordeal. Maybe I was too young, too childish, too immature to understand What it all means to me and my future That these memories will haunt my life To shape who I am like the sod of the unforgiving Earth By Thanadon (Albert) Tantivit, Year 12
[51]
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
The Window Go and open the window, Maybe you’ll see a cheery parade, a magical garden or a picture of a big blue whale. Go and open the window, Maybe you’ll see a strong ninja, an enchanting boy with a chocolate milkshake and a crowded village that has a lot of pet animals. Go and open the window, Maybe you’ll see a gigantic playground that includes a massive trampoline and a gorgeous sandpit. By Artemii Pisarev, Year 4AJ
Photo by Anoma Thaworn, Year 6SC
[52]
The Window Go and open the Window. Maybe outside there’s A crumbly bridge and a garden, or a magic city. Go and open the Window. Maybe thick white snow Covers the trees. Maybe you’ll see a face, or the picture of a picture of a picture of a picture. Go and open the Window. If there’s a fog It will clear. Go and open the Window. Even if there’s only The deafening ticking, Even if Nothing Is there, Go and open the Window. At least The Future Is there. By Jay Gates, Year 4AJ
[53]
Photo by Anoma Thaworn, Year 6SC
Window Go and open the window. Maybe there will be a towering swimming pool. Go and open the window. Maybe there will be an ample snowman. Go and open the window. Maybe there will be a diamond sword. Go and open the window. Maybe there will be bows, arrows, hoes, axes, shovels and a machine gun. Go and open the window. Maybe there’s a monstrous tree house, Or at least, there will be a house. By Pawat (Neo) Udomaksorn, Year 4AJ Photo by Samuele Rossi, Year 12
[54]
It was a sunny bright day and my parents had planned for us to go to the beach. We all jumped on our bikes. Our dog Sandi ran alongside us, enjoying himself immensely. The beach soon came in sight. Locking our bikes we made our way down the stairs. There were lots of people milling about and playing in the golden sand. We constructed our own ‘beach den’. Our dog was having a peaceful doze. It was the perfect day. Suddenly it started raining heavily. More and more pitch black clouds were rolling in. We hurriedly packed our stuff and settled into an overcrowded beach restaurant. We happily gobbled down our delicious food. Suddenly I noticed something extremely odd. The normally calm seagulls were now letting out ear-splitting screeches and flying off one by one. This was a signal, as animals can actually sense when a tsunami is about to happen. But we didn't know this of course. We were so busy talking we didn’t notice a massive storm surge coming in. Just then a man shouted: “Everybody up the stairs!” The beach had a storm-wave-proof system. It was a 3-meter high wall that had an opening so you could get through. When everyone was safely upstairs, the man slid the heavy metal door of the opening shut and locked it with a heavy iron bolt.
Suddenly I noticed that our tiny dog was missing. "Mum, Dad, Sandi is missing!" I yelled worriedly. "Let's go up the lighthouse! "replied Dad. So off we went to the lighthouse, which was right next to the beach. We paid the kind old man with the twinkling eyes at the counter and rushed upstairs. Once at the top, we looked down on the beautiful Island. I suddenly felt a tingling in my left leg. I burst out laughing. "Bella, this is no laughing matter. We've got to find Sandi!" But I just kept laughing and laughing. "But Mom, Sandi is right behind me!" I finally explained. "Oh, Sandi! We were so worried!" exclaimed Dad, hugging the little dog gladly. We looked down where wood and debris were scattered all over the beach. Sadness filled me to see the beach I had grown up on was now completely in ruins. When we were safely home we cuddled up on the sofa, Sandi at our feet. We drank hot chocolate from shiny silver mugs, the sweet aroma wafting into our noses. We were just glad we were together and safe. By Ayu Boehmer, Year 8
[55]
Photo by Samuele Rossi, Year 12
When I went to bed I was in a happy mood because tomorrow was Christmas. I woke up and I was not in my bed. Instead of being in my bed I was in a jungle. I walked around to see where I actually was but then I teleported into a disco but nearly got kicked out. Then I wanted to teleport to a park and suddenly I did. So I thought of somewhere else and teleported there. I thought I had the power to teleport, so I tried my house but I ended up in a random house. It was nearly night-time so I went to sleep and woke up in my house. It was twelve in the morning so I went back to sleep. Then woke up and I tried to teleport again but I couldn’t. I wondered what had happened. I looked up at the sky and it was dawn. Then it felt like I was standing on a cloud. I looked down and I was floating. I got scared and I started sinking and I couldn’t stop. I was sinking underground. I thought about Christmas and I floated - up and up and I couldn’t stop. Suddenly, I sank back down to the ground. I had a new power. I thought that if I went back to sleep and woke up again I would get a new one. I tried it and I did get new one - my power was super speed. At first I didn’t know I had it but then I started to think about Christmas and at first nothing happened. I saw a sign that said ‘run’ so I ran and I couldn’t stop but when I did I was a mile from the house and it had taken only a second. Then I woke up one more time and wanted to try it again but it was nine in the morning so I couldn’t and I was sad. Then I remembered it was Christmas and I realised that previous night I had watched a movie about a person with powers so that was why I had dreamt about magical powers. By Charlize Wafer-Cummins, Year 7
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
[56]
The Bonfire Blazing tendrils of amber and russet rise up out of the sandy pit. They sway back and forth, in time to the steady rhythm of our thumping hearts. Curling orange tongues caress the midnight air, spitting out burning embers that float and dance among the blackness, before falling into the sea of sand below. Heat from the conflagrant structure of sticks spreads out far beyond the glowing hearth. It warms every bone inside our bodies, keeping out the chill that threatens to overtake. Dusty clouds rise from the wood ablaze, their pearlescent shading a stark contrast against the blue-black of the eventide. The faint crashing of whitecaps tripping onto the sand, and a steady stream of chatter from we who congregate around the pyre are the only sounds that fill the deserted shore. Beyond, there is only a blanket of stillness and peaceful silence. But laughter and movement fill our little bubble. Faces split in toothy grins, echo sounds of absolute delight, as jokes and stories are passed around the sizzling tower of timber. The dusk air is thick with smoke and sea salt. Above, freckles of tiny, twinkling diamonds hang, suspended in a velvet sky. A glowing crescent sits between them, like an emperor, reigning over his disciples. He cannot make out the inferno that rages far, far below him. But the inferno rages anyway. It reaches out to the moon, stretching its red-hot hands up into the air, as far as they dare to go. But from far away, the pyramid of heat is but a merigold dot, in the sprawling galaxy of a paint palette. By Rosie Tucker, Year 10
[57]
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
Why are they coming here? He discovered within the circle the letter W… confused he went back to his office to find a piece of paper with the word WHY on it.
It was a cold stormy December evening in Hyde Park London, the snow was falling, the Christmas, lights were flickering from the blizzard. The lights from the passing cars lit up the park and showed a sea of snow. The night watchman was wrapped up warm in his cabin, waiting for the clock to hit midnight to go on his hourly walk around the park.
The next night he wondered if anything strange would happen and nervously left his office for his midnight Patrol. The night watchman hurried through his checks when he heard an unusual rustling which stopped him in his tracks.
All of a sudden the blizzard stopped and there was a fresh calm in the air. The clock struck midnight and the night watchman, picked up his jacket, put his hat and gloves on and grabbed his flashlight from his drawer.
Frozen in fear he reluctantly approached the rustling sound. He shone his torchlight towards the tree, there was a strange looking patch on the tree. He crept closer to see what it was and discovered a letter A carved into the bark of the tree.
As the night watchman walked deeper into the park, all of a sudden the whole of London went pitch black … there was a loud bang and a blinding light lit up the sky as if it was day time, which made him drop his flashlight.
He began to get increasingly scared so he ran back to his office and on his window written in the dirt was the word ARE. The night watchman was certain somebody was watching him.
The light disappeared as quickly as it arrived, the Night watchman found his flashlight buried in the snow. He was scared…
The next evening came and he was sure something out of the ordinary was going to happen. Before his patrol at midnight he heard what sounded like a mini explosion and raced out of his office.
He flashed his torch into the distance and to his fright he saw a huge circle in the snow, so he went over to investigate. Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
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He rushed out to find a trail of tiny footprints scattered across the yard outside his office, he looked around to see what could have possibly made them but there was no one there. He checked around the park but nothing. On his walk back he realised the tiny footprints made the shape of the letters T and C. Who was trying to contact him and what were they trying to say? Curious to find out what all this meant, he scribbled down the letters and words to see if he could find a pattern. He wrote down the letters W A T C and the words why and are, it seemed each letter was a word trying to give him a message and the letters almost spelt the word Watch. Who wanted him to watch and what did they want him to see? When the watchman returned the following evening he found his paper with the clues written on now had the words they, coming and here in splattered scribbles. The message read, why are they coming here? He was right, the letters spelled out watch. Then suddenly there was a loud screech coming from the park so he ran outside to check it out. To his amazement there was a small family of tiny aliens playing tag in the bushes. When they saw him they shouted “WATCH� in squeaky voices, the watchman laughed to himself he could not believe he was scared of such sweet friendly aliens. By Freddie Norfolk, Year 5KT
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Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
A Winter’s Day in New York The cold, dry winter air sends swirls of freshly made doughy pretzels and sizzling hot dogs through the air. The smell of bark surrounding the cool trees float around bringing a freshness to the air. Crisp and dry autumn leaves are swept up into mini spirals, then, just as quickly as they were created, they are gone. Ice remains a few days after snowfall. Seeping in tiny cracks and glinting like fish scales in the sun. Dry trees surround the park marking the border between man and nature with a distinct line. Auburn coloured leaves lay scattered under the winter seasoned trees, iced like a cake with a fine layer of frost. Frosty air comes out of the laughing people passing by, pointing at photos on screens. Skyscrapers loom over head touching the sky, each one higher than the other.
fights carry on round the broad, clusters of rocks. Rocks and boulders stand like mountains in a child's mind. Rock climbing children gaze at the towering skyline knowing they have completed their mission. Whilst thrown snowballs splay along the dark playground floor below like stars. The taste of dry air settles in the back of your throat with each breath. Cold rushes in and is quenched with each sip of piping hot chocolate, warming your hands. Rosy-cheeked people from the cold sit on benches lining the park, bird or squirrel watching as the creatures climb or soar across the trees. The never ending skyline seems to be the catch of everyone's eye on these elevated viewpoints. By Megan Ueckermann, Year 10
The cold radiates from the rocks below creeping through every gap expelling the warmth. Hands numb as snowball
Photo by Jonty Reid, Year 13
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Inside Back Cover Photo by Evangeline Willatts, Year 11 Back Cover Photo by Andrea Hosking, Year 12 Many thanks for creative design and formatting by Khun Thatchapol ‘Benz’ Piluk