The CIS English and Magazine Club - 2021-22 Edition

A Note from the Creator Hi everyone!

I hope this magazine finds you well,my name is Lisa Mary Paul (I’m a grade 9 student at CIS). This is my very first year at this school and starting this club—the English and Magazine club—and I can say it’s been a wonderful journey leading into the creation of this fun-filled, thoughtful and memorable magazine. It’s always been a dream of mine to create a club and watch it grow. I've especially loved giving the members of my club confidence in their individual talents, giving them advice and helping them find some of their unknown abilities.

Every Wednesday lunch (from 12:55-1:15pm) we meet as a club in H309 to discuss and put our ideas together for this magazine. Not a single club session has passed without laughter and fun, it’s a relaxed and creative club. Together we motivate each other and work as a team, giving each other compliments and improvements on the way! In this magazine you will find poems, short stories, drawings, club reviews, digital designs, club collaborations(with Book Club and Charity Club) and even an interview with a best-selling author. Back in 2021, we also hosted a Haiku Competition—and I received a great number of entries, so thank you very much for that! The winners of Haiku and Non-Haiku (special mention) categories can be found near the end of the magazine.

What I’m most proud of about the club and this magazine is that it’s extremely inclusive.

We have not restricted entries for this magazine to only club members,so anyone at CIS could submit their work,it’s been open to anyone. Literally anyone. You will find submissions in this magazine from all ages (including parents and friends outside the CIS community)—and this is what I believe makes the club unique.

If you weren’t a member of the English and magazine club this year, I would seriously consider it for next year (at the Club fair)! There are so many roles to choose from.This year we had some members who wanted to be part of the actual magazine,contributing poems,stories or making drawings etc), others helped me with gathering pieces of work and organising it,so that I had a variety of diverse work to add to the magazine,and we even had a few members who came simply to watch and enjoy the time with their friends.

Either way, the roles are always open,and it’s beautiful to see how each person contributes to the club.

I hope you enjoy this collection of work!

Sincerely,

Lisa

Teen Pet Affinity By: Lisa Mary Paul (Gr9)

Ever had a pet? A pet that supports you? Licks you?

There are always days when I feel stressed, bullied and isolated. I come back from school trying to manage my mood swings and other teenage tantrums:it’s barely an hour before I start flooding with negative thoughts! Almost every teen goes through this tough, challenging year where they are put to test with all sorts of obstacles,the weight of it all is simply overwhelming !

However,as you might or might not have guessed, it’s not impossible to overcome this obstruction,there is always a way out. Keep reading to find out mind-boggling,rejuvenating new facts on how you can forever tarnish and defeat this mental misery,now you’re not the only one!

Firstly, to state a fact, 91% of teenagers who own a pet, have easily ,over a period of time,gotten through their tantrums. Pets are not only there for you to feed and take care of,but it can also be the other way around,pets can support you. They are intimate,loyal companions who feel deeply for you! They huddle by you through your darkest days until your fight is over. Even after,they never once leave your side!

How do pets make kids happy?

Pets are already known to be tolerant,loving creatures. But why exactly do they make kids so happy? Well,for starters,research has proven that pets increase self-esteem and self-expression of an individual. Moreover, 76% of teenagers with pets are known to be more adaptable,versatile and loving towards any other creature than those without! Pets have natural traits that over long periods of time can completely change the behaviour of a person.

My cousin,Aderin,from India has kindly accepted to tell you her story,about her cat called Shadow through a call we arranged. Here is the interview transcript:

Interview with Aderin (Yr7)

Me : “Hi Addy! So firstly,how exactly did you end up getting your cat,Shadow?”

Aderin:“Hi! So yeah,I got her as a recommendation from a family doctor. I have been suffering many problems since becoming 14 years old. Mentally and physically..I just can’t control my negative thoughts or be as active and cheerful as before. My mother was worried about this and she contacted a doctor. He suggested we get a pet for support.”

Me: “ So how has Shadow helped you?”

Aderin: “Well,one big thing is of course the support I receive from him. He just always makes me feel good about myself and makes me feel important. My parents are always out,and I have no siblings,so it can be very hard for me to express my feelings! Having Shadow at home is unimaginably helpful!”

Me: “How are you feeling now,as you have had Shadow for two years now , isn’t it?”

Aderin: “Yes, two years now. I feel much more content and confident now that I have Shadow along with me. There’s no more obstacles facing my way!” :)

Me: That is truly magical and thank you for sharing your experience with our readers. I’m sure this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey.

The interview was one hour long, therefore it cannot be shown in its full form in this magazine, so I have extracted key bits from our conversation to help you get a feel of what we discussed and read about some important points we covered.

Intervie Transcrip (Edite ) Lisa Paul Hi Marc, how are you?

Marc Reklau Hi Lisa! Great, thanks for having me.

Lisa Paul Well thank you for coming to this interview! First of all, I just thought I would mention that your book ‘30 Days’ has been one of the best books I have read in a long time--it’s transformative,inspiring and necessary. So I would like to ask you a couple of questions surrounding this.

Marc Reklau Perfect!

Lisa PAUL So,what triggered you to write the book or even who triggered it?

Marc Reklau (Invitado) That's a good question. I actually started reading self help when I was 16 years old.I knew all the books and I was very book smart but I never put it into practice and I felt helpless. Many many years later when I was 40 I actually did some coaching and training to get myself to a place where I was actually acting to create change, and this idea really made me want to write an interactive self-help book like ‘30 Days’.

And then I noticed they work because I also studied successful people and when you study them when you read biographies of people, you see they're doing kind of the same things. You know they have many things in common with you.

Marc Reklau And then I lost my best excuse, which is having no time to reflect on myself in order to write a book, because when I was 40 I was actually jobless. So I started doing the exercises and they were working and then that really gave me the idea for this book.

But I also knew that many people were like me before. They just read a lot of books and didn’t apply them. And you need to apply them and you can see it when you apply them. It makes it different and that's why I wrote the book. So that's why the book is written so simple. So short because I also wanted to get the message, tips and tricks across in a simple way.

Lisa PAUL That’s great.I think it took you half a year to get onto the Amazon ranking for bestselling books. How do you stay resilient throughout the time?

Marc Reklau (Invitado) Yeah, that sometimes I ask myself, well, that's the most difficult thing. I had something inside me and I call it yeah belief first of all believe in myself. I knew that nobody has to believe in myself but me, I mean it's nice if other people believe in you but you are the one if you believe in yourself you will get there and if you don't you need to be the first person who believes in yourself.

There are many examples of this actually,there are interviews with Paolo Coelho and also Oprah. The Alchemist was even worse than 30 days in the first half of the year. Paolo sold very few books,but he was always resilient and determined,never losing trust in his capability which didn’t disappoint. So for me, that was fantastic, because first of all, I said, oh wow, I already sold more than 200 books more than Paolo had in the first half of the year and that was more than enough.

Lisa PAUL So in terms of gratitude,which I believe is a huge element in your book, can you explain what it means to you and how you can be truly grateful?

Marc Reklau (Invitado) Yeah.

Marc Reklau (Invitado) Gratitude is magic and it took me a long time to find it out because when I was your age for example, I didn't understand why I should be grateful for something that I didn’t have,but I found that with time I learned its importance.

Marc Reklau (Invitado) I become more successful, and it's scientifically proven that being grateful really improves everything in your life. So it makes you happier, more optimistic. You see more opportunities, which is always important to see. People are more open to change and are at peace with themselves,which is a necessary quality moving forward.

Marc Reklau (Invitado) You do it, it's very easy. So what I started doing and you know it because you read the book. Three things you are grateful for every day. You know, for example, I'm grateful for our conversation today. I'm grateful for my computer. It might sound stupid, but I'm grateful for my computer because it helps us connect and I’m grateful for having a house. You know, it's pretty simple. Do all these things and in 3-4 weeks it will rewire your brain!

Lisa PAUL

That’s very true, but I also believe that striking a balance in your emotions is just as important, because if someone is happy and showing no other emotions that is unhealthy and not a feeling that will last long.

What do you think?

Marc Reklau (Invitado) Absolutely.

Marc Reklau (Invitado) Exactly, you need to accept your emotions. Oppression of emotions usually makes them worse. You know. So I think this is something I was wrong about. I always used to think you had to smile to prove your happiness,and never change emotions. But life is a mix of everything and you have to realise you are in charge. So also when you’re sad it’s important to reflect on it and think about where the emotion comes from.

What is triggering it? What happened? Why am I sad now? Am I envious of somebody who has more success or this or that?

Charity Club’s work is mostly focused in Ghana, where we aim to improve the lives of families living in dire poverty. We run a micro credit system that gives loans to women so they can earn more to feed and clothe their children, and have started a nutrition program so they can make the most of the food they can afford.

The pandemic has hit very hard, and the need is even greater now.

We meet every Wednesday 11:20 – 11:40 in the Third Floor study room and then every few weeks we meet in the Student Kitchen for a longer session. With snacks and/or cooking together. This is mainly when we need to prepare for an event.

The PTA Halloween party is a way we can earn some needed funds for the poor,slum-dwelling families in Ghana and to tell folks about our great projects. We sell the solobo ginger shots here. It was a bit hit last time and this time too! Friends, family and neighbours are always very welcome.

Best, Amy and Ute

Some previous Charity Club projects include: -

Trivia Night

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Book Drive ( see information below)- with support from "Læs for livet"( read for life)- planned project with an IB school in Ghana, Lincoln Community School Accra, Ghana

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Reading aloud projects—---Penpal projects between CIS students and the children in Ghana

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Table tennis tournaments

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FIFA tournaments

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Fundraiser Concerts

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PTA fairs ( Sobolo, face-painting etc)

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Helping out at the Soup Kitchen here in CPH (link?)

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And more :)

This year they need new members in order to find ways to send money to these women as quickly as possible. The lockdown due to COVID-19 has hit these women’s businesses hard, and they need our help now, more than ever.

So if interested to join them on Wednesdays at 11.20,please contact me: Lisa Mary Paul 25lp62@cis.dk MORE INFORMATION: BOOK DRIVE: Library books were donated to four Senior High Schools in the Wenchi Municipality on Tuesday 3rd May 2021 The news items including one attachment are being forwarded for your attention. https://firstnewsroom.com/2021/05/05/the-immediate-past-ghanas-ambassador-to-d enmark-donates-books-to-schools-in-wenchi/ Book drive – They are soon sending 30 boxes of books to Ghana via the Ghanaian Embassy in Denmark and collaborating with Alison Black-Storm at Lincoln Community School in Accra to create a learning experience about need and how to create a library. Both IB schools. They sent an equal number of books last year. CIS was noted in the press releases.

NOVO NORDIC COMPETITION They did not win the Novo Nordic competition to create a larger nutrition program, but they were among the ten finalists and were successful in further articulating our ideas and establishing good working relations with noted Ghanaian nutritionists. Through these connections, the CC gets insight into development work. And into how poverty affects diets and thus health. This is especially relevant now that COVID has shown that those with healthier habits are more likely to survive the virus.

Amari By:Aryvardhan Tanwar (Gr10) It was a boiling hot summer day, hundreds of people chipping away on stone and dust, sieving through buckets of muddy water. Surrounded by men with guns and rifles ready to drop someone without a second of hesitation, it was like living hell. But they were the lucky ones. Life was dull, they would find thousands of little rocks that meant nothing to them anymore, but the west would pay fortunes for it. Half of them would chip away at the sandy red stone, and the other half usually women would sieve and shuffle the muddle waters for any tiny stones of diamonds they could find. Many would try to hide it, in their mouth, up to their sleeves, but despite all their efforts, they would catch them. They would walk up to them step by step, their eyes hidden away by shades, power and authority in every step they take. They ask them to hand it over and pop them in the skull. Didn't matter who it was, women, men, even children, their life was not worth nearly as much as it. This was the case for years, chipping away at stone, and sieving through the muddy waters, until one day God gave something that would change one boy's life forever. Amari had been working down in the mines for 6 years now, he had not seen his parents in what seemed like an eternity, he had soon begun to forget their faces. He and his brother Shakir had always promised one and other they would get out of here, that they would reunite with their parents, that they would once again live life with no care in the world in their happy village. But those promises started rotting, they started to rot from the inside out until the promises turned into nothing more than lies. For years it would also be Shakir who was towering and lean, chipped and chipped away, and young Amari would sieve through the water behind him.

Until Amari became a multi-millionaire and he didn't even realise his power and his position, he found a gem as big as his palm, it a beautiful light blue colour, as clear as the sky. At that moment holding that stone, he was the richest person in the town, maybe even the city, or maybe even the whole country he thought. with money like that he could build schools, build homes, feed people the list goes on. Amari quickly went to a remote part of the swamp without being noticed, and quickly shoved his hand down the patch of unbothered sand burying the gem deep beneath. He was very aware that if anyone one of those guards laid their beady eyes on the gem, it would be Amari buried in the sand with a heavy grey stone saying 'here lies Amari'. Hours had flown past and there was no longer the crystal clear blue sky, but now it was a sweet colour of caramel and the sun slowly drifting away. Shakir is still chipping away with blood and sweat dripping down his face.

His eyes were a bloodshot red. Amari was ready to sleep, his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier, his muscles were sore, his back was in desperate pain and he wanted to go home. His repeating motion got slower and slower, his vision got darker and darker. His muscles had finally decided to give in and fall into place. Vision completely dark, head drifting forward, mind slipping into sweet relaxation… He had never felt happier. "Hey! Hey, you wake up!" Amaris mind slowly drifted back into hell, his eyes slowly widened, he could see the figure of a man. "I told you to wake up" exclaimed the thick rough voice, Amari’s mind would race back and forth between the sweet sleep and the blurry man.

"Wake up! Or I'll blow your head open! Wake up!" The man's voice was getting more and

more distorted, he was getting quieter and almost felt like he was fading away, a distance but notice ringing noise took control of his mind, that sound kept getting louder until the man was completely gone, you could still barely hear his distant cries in the background.

Smack! Amari felt a great deal of force cracking his cheekbones, the force was so hard he fell back first into the cold muddy water. The pain on his cheekbone was so red, at that moment he had no clue what had happened, he struggled to get out of the water tossing and turning, screaming and shouting until he rose as stiff as aboard. He gasped for air, the muddy water had forced its way up to his nose and down his throat. The boy coughed and coughed like he was about to cough up his lung. After a minute of struggling, he wiped his face and saw the stature of a towering bearded man. "You are done when I say so." He said in a thick Krio accent. The people around all glanced at the bruised and broken boy.

The man swiftly drew his shades and with his stern wrinkled bloodshot eyes sharp as sword stared at each and every person in an instant and everybody was back to themselves a minute ago. Amari with all the might in his calves and thighs rose, grabbed his sieve-like a rat stealing food and began to work like it was the start of the day again.

He continued for 20 minutes, but the sharp pain in his back, the dire soreness in his muscles, the heaviness in his eyes, the heaving pain in his cheekbone, the cold shiver of the muddy water and the constant thoughts in his mind made it feel like a lifetime. It was over, Amari almost about to drop dead, his throat was sour, his lungs were closing in on themselves, quickly Shakir jogged to Amari, sloshing around the muddy water in each step and holding Amari in his arms like a baby boy. The sky was no longer that sweet caramel colour, it was now a black void. When Amari woke up it was a pale revolting grey, his mind grew cloudy as he was laying on the side gazing at the horrific outside world. The colour was disgusting, it was so different from the sunny tropical lush that he would wake up to every day. This reminded him of pain and suffering. His stomach growled and growled, he could almost feel the stomach acid burning the inside of his stomach. He turned to the left and he saw Shakir. He looked bruised and broken, but at the same time triumphed and capable of taking on the world, "One day I will be like him. One day we will be back home to mother and father. We will wake up once again to sunny lush skies, and our beautiful hometown." He conceived in his head. Until the idea stuck in his mind faster than thunder, a way out… "Shake! Shakir! Wake up, I know how to get out of here", He whispered while vigorously shaking Shakir. "One minute… alright… alright... I'll wake up."

Mumbled Shakir half asleep. It took a good minute of rustling and shaking Shakir for him to finally wake up. "What is it? Tell me quickly, don't waste my time." Replied Annoyed Shakir to all of Amari's shaking. "I buried this… gem of sorts yesterday, it was the biggest one I've ever seen, I reckon we could be rich and save our village, and meet mom and da-." "Where is it?". So there they were, Shakir and Amari quiet as a mouse bobbing and weaving in and out of the Village avoiding any guards or people that would be up at this time. Hurtling fences scaling walls, all while still being gruesomely hungry. And after 20 minutes of playing mouse, they see it.

The same pit of hell they had known all these years. Amari knew exactly where he was buried, his eyes flashing dollar signs and scurried off like a bloodhound on a crime scene.

He got to the spot and started digging on all fours until he saw it. It was the same majestic clear light blue colour he had dreamed of, he could not take his eyes off it. And just as you know it, Shakir wipes it off of him like an eagle in the wind. "What are you doing, I found that." Says the agitated Amari. "I'm sorry Amari, you are too weak to handle this, It will be

better off with me. Trust me I'll keep it safe and we will have a better life." Replied Shakir Sternly, his eyes dilated as the stone swallowed his vision. "I found it first, I want it back right now!" Shakir did not mind his little brother, he continued to just gaze at the rock. This filled Amari with wrath, he found the stone, it should be with me not him, and his brother didn't seem to care at all. Amari pulled his arm back and with all this strength in his bones punched Shakir. Shakir still did not seem to divert his attention, so Amari punched him again, and again, and again, and kept on ramming his fist into Shakir's arm until there was a big red mark that his hand left behind. Amari was completely fed up and smacked the stone right out of his hands into oblivion. "The hell do you think you are doing!" Shouted Shakir as he slapped his brother and chased back the stone. Amar quickly trailed after him, wrestling him for the gem. Amari used up all his might and wrath but it was no good against Shakir. He was taller, smarter and stronger. Shakir lifted his little brother by his toes and flung him like a catapult across the dirty, muddy, filthy water. Shakir slowly but surely went back to the stone, bent down, stretched all his arms and picked up the stone until Thud! A nice big hole had just been put in Shakira's forehead. He was dead before he even hit the ground. All the anger and hate that had been built in the Amari's system had dispersed, and all that was left was terror, shock, guilt and sadness. His brain became foggy, he could feel his heart clog, his eyes widened, his big brother was dead all because of a stone. Amari, as quick as a hawk, looked left to who could've done this who could do such a thing. It was a boy, a young one not much older than Amari. He was small and had a weak frame, there was nothing in the boy except skin and bones. Behind him was the same bearded man, he was thrice the size of the kid, it was David and goliath. Looking down on them like birds in the knights, watching dogs fight. Amari and the boy stared at each other for 20 seconds, just pure silence and the sounds of nature. He broke this tension when he lifted his scrawny twig arms pulled out a big silver revolver cocked it and Bang! Splash! … Silence.

Red and Blue By: Ella Pattison (Gr10) The lights spun around his head, red and blue, red and blue, red and blue. The piercing shriek of sirens was deafening everyone around but luckily not many people were out at this hour. Clouds slowly drifted around to get a good look at the scene below blocking out the moon's view of the shadowy streets. Suffocating darkness fell over the previously sleeping city as a silent spell was broken and all the civilians awoke. The streets became a mere backdrop for the chaos that was erupting, the screams became a soundtrack to the play.

He stirred awake, sitting up joint by joint but it felt more difficult than usual. The uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as his eyes flickered open to gain a better view of his surroundings. If he remembered correctly he should be lying in a grassy field with the flowers around him, restoring the peace he hadn't felt for too long. There were no flowers, there was no grass and there was no peace. Panic flooded his senses like waves crashing over a lonely beach. His mind blurred as his hands found their way to the side of

his head, grasping roughly at the greased curls that pressed against his forehead. The ability to breathe was taken from him as the oxygen from the air seemingly ceased to exist, leaving him frantically gasping for air quickly ridding him of the ability to move.

Everything hurt, numbness took over and the feeling of hope had evaporated. A sharp pain in his shoulder brought his thoughts back only for him to lose consciousness seconds later.

“We need to move him quickly, you saw what happened last time.”

“If you saw what I saw, you would know that the last thing for us to do is move him quickly.

He needs to trust us.”

“You and I both know that he’ll never trust us, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“We can't do this. I know it's standard protocol but it feels wrong .”

“What, so you're gonna let him kill us? You know he's capable of it.”

“That was different, he had a reason.”

“He has a reason now. He has more reasons than before. We won't be able to do anything if he decides we’re his next victims, we have no weapons, no backup, nothing. We have absolutely nothing to prevent his attack and you know that he won't be happy.”

“We moved him last time and we had to sedate him, we move him this time we may have to do something worse. We cannot move him and if you want to, you can do it alone.”

Everything looked the same. There were no doors, no windows, nothing but the expanse of grey painted in front of him. He had no idea where he even was. Grey walls, grey floors, grey clothes, even his skin looked grey. It was probably the lack of sunlight from the past years, the lack of food, the lack of sleep, the lack of everything that one would need to survive. Except for shelter. He’d had plenty of that. He could hear voices talking nearby but at this point it was difficult to tell whether they were real or in his own head. The air was thick and metallic leaving an unpleasant taste on his tongue. He felt drained, like everything he cared for had gone and left him. In a way it had but that was no one's fault but his own. Time ground to a standstill as the soft echo of voices got closer and the gentle plodding of footsteps halted next to a wall. A louder echo was heard a little further away of a man shouting. Stomping joined the mixture of noises gathering outside the wall as he frantically looked for an opening to run from but the smooth concrete stared down at him, almost daring him to try escape.

A knocking rang through the room making him sit up straighter, interested to see the sight that was about to come before him. The wall in front of him fell and two people were revealed, one stood straight while the other stood slouched, staring at the floor in an uncomfortable manner.

“He's awake.” She said in a surprised tone, glancing at her companion with a nervous look in her eyes. He sat up straighter, narrowing his bloodshot eyes, slim mouth curving into a menacing smirk and entire body clenching before relaxing again. The girl remained still.

She stood tall with her long black hair tied out of her face, body wrapped in a black suit which was crisply cuffed to show her hands sticking out the end of her sleeves. She held a gentle smile however her eyes remained dark like her soul had been sucked out.

“I am.” He responded, voice raspy from lack of use or from using it too much, it was hard to tell. She looked down at the crumpled heap on the floor, watching pitifully as he

dragged himself up, bones cracking, stumbling back and forth as his legs got used to holding weight again. Grey encompassed him, fabric hung off his limbs as he attempted to make his way over to the girl who was now staring at him completely unphased. Her coworker on the other hand was edging out of the room, desperately trying to make himself unseen.

“You can call me T,” she said in an authoritative tone before turning to face her coworker who was still edging out the room, “and this is P6.”

He flinched as her hand flew out, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him towards her, drawing him further into the room. They stood side by side, height difference drastic as he stood about a head shorter than her. He looked up at his accomplice uncomfortably giving the man a better look at his stature. Uneasiness was painted across his features, hands bundled tightly in his pockets. His eyes were cast down mirroring his mouth that had been pulled into a tight line.

“I won't be calling you anything,” he snarled, glaring at her, “I’m going to give you two options. One is that you leave, let me go, and continue your life like this never happened or two,” he cocked his head menacingly to the side, “you can die.”

Her composure was dented as a flash of fear ran through her eyes. Her partner glanced up at her frantically whispering something under his breath but it was unintelligible to the man and to his colleague. She stood there for a moment considering her two options, eyes narrowing in concentration as she carefully studied his figure, her own figure and her coworkers figure. He was weak, fragile, easy to overthrow if needed. She was slim, tall, strong and has been training for this moment all her life. Then she glanced at her accomplice. This could be the difficult part. He stood, staring at the floor, mouth parted, as he glanced up at her as if she was an alien from space.

“I warned you about this! I told you ‘he's going to kill us’, ‘we’re going to die’ and you said it would be fine! You told me we would be fine, that everything was going to be fine. You lied. It was a plot wasn't it. You wanted me to die. You want me to die. You never intended this to work. I trusted you, did you know that? I trusted you with my life-” he trailed off, looking down at the floor as the tears began to stream down his face.

She looked down at him with a sad smile, her hand found its way to his back as a worried glance began to take over her features. The prisoner turned, face lack of emotions as he began to make his way towards the pair. His legs dragged carelessly across the smooth concrete as he struggled.

“Stop.” Her voice rang out, somewhat weak. The colour drained from her face as he continued stumbling towards them.

“I said stop.” She repeated, voice cracking halfway through the sentence. His smile broadened, spreading widely across his broken face as his slightly bloodshot eyes narrowed into a menacing smile. He continued forwards, gaining pace as his legs got used to being used again. She began to back away, drawing her colleague behind her as she prepared to fight.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” He said, cocking his head to the side as her panic stricken face vanished into confusion.

“Why?” “I have better things to do with my life.” He swept away, almost gracefully if it wasn't for the circumstances. A shout echoed through the dim halls as a figure launched towards him landing on top and holding the struggling man down.

“What are you doing?” She shouted from behind looking down to the fighting ball on the floor in disbelief.

“We are not letting a psychopath free, are you kidding me?” Someone yelled from the heap. She went pale as she realised who that voice belonged to.

“Are you trying to kill us? We would have gotten away.”

“He would have killed us anyway, I could tell.”

“Why, we did what he wanted us to do.”

“His parents did what he wanted them to do, did they not? His sister did too and his brother. None of that stopped him before, why would it now. They were his family too, we are mere people who kidnapped him to take him back to the place he escaped from. Why would he spare us if he didn't spare his family? Why would he-” The voice was cut off by a sudden scream as a blade appeared from nowhere and drove itself straight into the flailing body on the floor. Another scream echoed through the dark halls as the woman fell to the floor, knees hitting the floor first as she keeled over. Tears wove their way down her face as her eyes got impossibly darker. Laughter, painful laughter joined the mixture of sounds bouncing around the walls. It was psychotic. The struggling man on the floor went limp as his killer took the blade and began towards the crying woman.

“You do what I say, you leave here right now, pretend this never happened.” A threatening tone was evident in his otherwise dead voice. He had a pained look on his face. His eyes were watery, lips splattered with blood but whose it was could not be said as he was biting his lips harshly. He was whispering to himself but what he was saying could not be made out. The woman didn't care, she sat, head in hands as tears streamed down her worn face. Her face was covered in signs of grief, Her pale skin had grown impossibly paler as she stared at the body before her, the scarlet mixture continued to flow down his sides as she became fixated on the pattern before her.

“It's better to not look, trust me.” He whispered, voice drained completely now. Her head raised to look at him as the tears continued to fall down her face.

“Trust you? How could I trust you? I did trust you to walk away and leave us unharmed.”

“He was asking for it, he would have killed me.”

“He wouldn't have been able to kill you, we had no weapons, he just wanted to hold you long enough for me to help and bring you back to the ward.”

“Was he special to you?”

“Why would I tell you that? You killed him in front of my eyes. Yes he was special to me but there's nothing you can do to bring him back so don't talk about it.”

Tears continued to stream down her face as she slouched against the wall, defeated. She took one last look at the body before completely breaking down. Sobbing harshly against the wall as her screams echoed through the darkened walkways. He sat, against another

wall staring at the body, emotions were absent on his face. He looked on, numb. The one thing he promised he would never do again, he had done.

A piercing siren cut it's way through the thick layer of silence. He remained still, slumped against the wall briefly aware of the red and blue light show that was flickering through the maze of walls. Arms attached themselves to his body as they dragged him into the back of a van where he didn't resist. The screams of the woman had gone now, the woman had also gone. He assumed she was escorted into a car but he didn't know or care. All he knew was that he was about to see his family again and it probably wasn't going to be a happy reunion.

The Worth of Life By: Eva Gregersen (Gr10) The old man shuffled along the pavement. The sky was dark as if someone had thrown a huge veil across the sun and suffocated it's warm glow. Even the streetlights were dim and gloomy, not knowing if they wanted to disturb the dark or aid the light.

Anyone would think that the stars were shining brightly but here, all that could be seen were the distant colourful traffic lights. It wasn’t a place to stargaze but then again, no one had time to spare the stars a gaze.

The old man wished they would come and smile down at him, like they used to when he was young. Things had changed and not for the better. Times had moved on, leaving him behind in a trail of dust. He now walked this gravel path, past the dark shadows of trees.

Their twists and bends made faces at him, jeering that he was all alone whilst they were many. But the old man was used to this. In some ways the trees were also his friends, for they listened to what he had to say. They stood still without a care and just nodded their heads in the wind.

The bench creaked as he sat down. Beetles scutttled out from their nooks and crannies, shocked from the disturbance. He knew what that felt like. Something moving someone by force and them having to scuttle away, disgraced like some sort of bug.

But now, he could relax. He slowly rested his arms behind him and sank down. The old man kicked his shoes off and let his blistered feet rest. His toenails were curved and yellow, his feet wrinkled and purple veins vined their way up his legs. It was not a necessarily pretty sight but who was to judge? Who was to judge him midst this dark night?

People had judged him all his life just for how he sat and how he pulled his little trolley along behind him. They would wrinkle their noses like moles, for they could not see past what was in front of them. They would never look straight into his eyes, into his soul, something warm stirred. A glow that should be spread and bathed in but instead is masked under a veil of suspicion.

There was more wind than the days before and his small cup tipped and rolled away. He followed it with his baggy eyes. There was nothing to spill and he doubted there would

ever be. He put his hands together one last time and bent his head. He stayed like this for a while.

A small noise disturbed him. It was a light speeding down the road, getting closer and closer. Had the stars come to greet him? Was it finally his time? He squinted his eyes trying desperately to see until suddenly he shrunk back. He knew those lights. The lights that would speed past and spear him with words. The lights that would throw cans one second and be gone the next.

The lights were almost upon him. He could feel the sting, he could hear the insults and worst of all he could feel the shame. The unwanted, unavoidable shame. He curled up, waited, waited, waited……

Nothing.

He peeked his eyes through his arms. There was a small girl breathing heavily beside her bike. The wind tousled her hair and her eyes seemed to water from the biting cold. She shivered and pulled her little green scarf tighter around her neck. Her chest rose and fell fast with steam coming out in billows. Even through all her struggle, she had to balance her bike on her body, using the last bit of strength.

Her emerald eyes met his, grey and clouded. There they stood for a moment. Old and young. Fresh and worn-out. Hopeful and hopeless.

She kept the gaze. She didn’t look away with that particular grimace they always have. He was surprised and unravelled with further curiosity.

He eyed her as she flipped out the bike stand with a twang. What was she doing stopping here in the middle of the night? What was she doing staying near the likes of him?

She walked over to the cup that by now had almost reached the lakes edge. Delicately she picked it up and held it tight in her little hand. He watched her stare at it, seeing the determination in her gaze and his eyes widened as she began to walk towards him. He tried to look anywhere else than her penetrating gaze. Would she walk past? Could she just ignore him?

She came closer and closer and she tensed her hand…

She gave him the cup. He opened his clenched eyes and removed his hands from his face. Bright like the stars, her face had lit up into a smile. A genuine smile. A smile full of happiness and kindness that rained down upon him. He took the cup and felt as if hot tea was warming his hands from the inside.

The little girl was already going back to the bike with her skipping steps. Hopping on, she quickly began to turn the little pedals around and around. This time, the wind blew her little scarf behind her like a cape and off she sped into the blackness. The yellow lights created a glow, like a lone firefly disappearing from view.

Still stunned, the old man sat there for a while. He just sat and listened to his breath and the distant roar of the roads. It took a while before he even took up the courage to look into the cup.

There at the bottom, was a golden coin, shimmering with the reflection of the street lights.

That was when the tears started to flow down his cheeks.

Days later when the sun was shining high above the clouds and the birds were bursting out in full song, the little girl rode back. This time there was no wind to hold her back, riding through the park. This time her scarf was perched neatly around her neck and her eyes were bright. In the basket at the front, there lay a poppy. She had sprung out of bed and raced down to the meadow.

She could see the bench coming closer in the distance but she instantly knew that something was not like it was before. The bench was empty and there wasn’t anything left to show that anything had filled that space. In her heart, she had wished that he would have stayed but she knew the chances were slim. She lifted the poppy delicately in her hand as she leaned her bike against a sagging tree. In the middle of the bench, the poppy looked vibrant and alive. The space around the flower seemed to brighten in the eye. She decided to leave it and come another day. What if he came back? She smiled her radiant smile showing glowing white teeth. The sun beamed and down she skipped to her bike.

As she rode away, distant sirens wailed.

RavenLoft Manor By: Neil Neumann (Gr10) The Fog “It's been years, I've been walking for what seems like an eternity, Bella? I have to find her. The fog, the thick black field of mist appeared a few days ago in my sleep, it was very vivid in my dream, the blood curdling images put into my head, of a woman screeching, with her scalp being ripped apart inch by inch. So this is the torture of the fog. The great fog, rumoured to exist, I thought it was just folklore and rumours until I stumbled my way into this mess. Bella, … why did I come for you, you were strong and brave. That's why you left the association all those years ago, you did what I didn't have the stomach to do, to leave the walls and enter the outlands of Ravenloft. They are on their way, that is why I'm here to protect you, I'll be there when you need it, even though I couldn't all those years ago.”, Jake muttered to himself, “ I can't escape anymore but let this memo be a testament to my attempt to find you.”

The Porch

Somehow Jake wound up finding himself in a clearing in the fog. This dark gloomy mansion loomed over me as Jake started to realise more and more people kept showing up. One by one each flamboyantly introduced themselves, One said “I am Alkwyn, great cleric of the lands'' the next “Oh, well Alkwyn, I am Balderk the strong, a paladin for the god Kord, the storm god of battle and warfare.'' This continued until it was Jake's turn, Jake started introducing himself as they all heard a loud CRASH! Behind them, they turned to see that the paladin Balderk had decided he was going to loot the porch in search of hidden treasures. So he smashed his war hammer into the floor and he plummeted about 10 feet until landing on the soggy marsh that was the ground. He yelled back up, “I think I see something in the corner, anyone want to come check this out!” Jake decided to jump down, casting feather fall to break his landing. He landed gracefully and wasn't covered in swamp marsh. When he looked back up through the hole he saw the cleric peeking down, he began to say “Hey Balderk, Jake, we are going to continue on, just meet us in the house once you guys are done down there all right?”, “All right!” Yelled the paladin in response.

The Mimic As Balderk and Jake were spelunking within the depths under the Porch the rest of the group decided they wanted to explore the mansion. Upon entering the main room, they noticed a very peculiar board in the middle of the round table, it was covered in a silk cloth and looked to be the only thing that was not covered in cobwebs and mould in this room.

The group decides to take a look at what's underneath and it's a ouija board. The pick was placed on “hello” and the group knew something was afoot. Meanwhile Balderk and Jake were exploring the underside of the porch and Jake let Balderk go first, as Balderk approached the corner a looming feeling of dread swept over him, he realised that what he thought was just a potential chest, was a Mimic disguising itself like a chest. The Mimic sprung out, it began its flurry of assaults, Balderk readied his hammer and began bashing away, the Mimic was nimble so it was able to dodge almost all the attacks and was able to get a good chomp on Balderks left shoulder. In response Jake pulled a red dragon scale out of his sack, chanting an incantation and a fiery column appeared forming from the spark on the scale. It engulfed the Mimic whole leaving it mortally wounded and bleeding out a black ooze onto the ground, “Thanks.” gasped Balderk, “No problem.” replied Jake, “You have my Arraganzzers Scorcher to thank for that.”

No Sleep Tonight At the round table the group decided it was time to rest. The ouija board had told them to never rest in the house, but the rogue's insightfulness alerted them to the obvious lie.

Later in the evening the group sat down and discussed their game plan for the night, it was decided that the rogue would take the first shift and keep watch and later in the night Jake would keep watch because he was an eladrin and only ever meditated and never slept. During the rogues watch nothing looked out of the ordinary, but as the night crept on, it started getting eerie and the rogue started to think he was going crazy, stuff started moving around and the darkness looked like a dancing silhouette prancing around the room. Finally the moment the rogue had been yearning for, it was his chance to take a long, looong rest. Jake awoke, eyes darting around the room, he noticed and twinkle in the corner and dazzling his eyes and lighting up the surroundings. He decided it was not a

risk he wanted to take and cast identify on the silhouette. His jaw dropped to the ground noticing the poltergeist watching them, in a panic state he woke Alkwyn up and pointed to the corner in his arms trembling and a chill running through his spine. Alkwyn tensed for a moment, then realized the situation. In a drowsy state, the druid stood up and summoned a python, communicating his thoughts with utmost urgency through hisses that slithered into the python's mind. The python appeared alarmed at first, curling up and releasing its fangs, it then moved slimily towards the poltergeist and when it reached its target it pounced, what followed was the room they were in began to crumble, vibrations echoing on the walls screeching in the ears of the group, all most all of them woke up to the sight of the poltergeists lifeless body dead on the ground with its head twisted off and blood smeared on stale musty walls.

The Basement As the group cleared the rest of the house mowing down the fiends and ghouls one by one, room by room, they soon encountered a door, this door had the symbol or Kord on it and the symbol rejected any kind of magic, they tried jiggling a hair pin in it to open it but none of them could comprehend what master lock was on this door. The group had cleared the rest of the house and it became apparent that the looming threat that was detected was creating the backing of floorboards and screeches that make your eardrums burst. Jake was the first to try something, casting a smoldering bolt of fire at the door, with the hopes of the ashes paving a path. This did not work, but as he did this, a symbol started to illuminate, a symbol of Kord, unbeknownst to everyone except the paladin, later as dusk crept upon the group, they all fell asleep, snoozing and snoring to their hearts content knowing that the poltergeist was dead, all except Balderk. Once Jake entered his trans, Balderk slipped away, running to the door and holding his holy symbol up, hoping to keep all the treasure within to himself. This was his grave mistake as once the door flung open the entire group woke up to sounds of screaming, piercing their ears.

The Entrapment They shot awake, eyes darting to find where the pain inducing cry was coming from, then they noticed Balderk was missing. They all locked eyes, knowing what had happened, but they didn't have the courage to speak about it. They all readied their battle stance as they heard this big behemoth of a monster barreling down the corridor, sniffing and grunting wherever it went. Baldrick had unleashed the Kordanian, the most vicious battle hound to have ever existed, it was the number one killing machine for Kord and he had locked it away in the basement in hopes no one would unleash it, now we know what a mistake that was. As the door flung open the group was face to face with a foul oozing skull, thick black fur and more teeth then you can count, Alkwyn had noticed something the others hadn't, a mark of Balderks hammer in the beast's jaw, with intestines hanging from the beast's lips. The Beast paused for a moment before deciding who he was going to make into modern art on the wall. One by one the group was picked off, in an epic feat of glory Alkwyn had managed to beat the beast into a bloody pulp with brains plastered on the roof, the beast is now severely weakened and Jake is the only one left standing, it was his time to avenge his friends. Jake first dodges the beast's attack, managing to pounce off of its claws and leap into the air, while airborne he produces a thunderous wave of electricity on the beast's head. It gets knocked prone and stumbles into the nearby wall, taking

advantage of the sudden vulnerability of his opponent, he takes aim and proceeds to huck an acid shot directed at the beast's brains, upon contact the beast seizes and collapses to the ground. Jake stumbles to the ground and takes out a pen and paper from his pocket, clutching his left side with one hand. Laying on the floor while clinging onto the last strands of his life he writes a final memo to his love, Bella, hoping she one day gets the message. After he's done, the pen rolls out of his hand and his body relaxes against the floor, his vision going dark, one last breath of air, then only silence...

Acknowledgments Maria Iraci-Maria is the sponsor of this club and her kindness and helpfulness is probably the only reason why I was able to go forward with this magazine idea, and find out who to contact for each step of its progression. I admire Maria’s patience, most of all, for always replying to my persistent emails with enthusiasm and readiness to help. Thank you so much! :) Amanda Lopez, Sandy Mackenzie and the PTA- All of these people have helped in bringing this new club to life, whether it be by advertising it, answering my questions or with their generous donations to make this physically possible. Thank you very much.

Rebecca Creme-Ms.Creme’s eagerness to help me out with the magazine (and experience) is what made me feel like I had a community of people around me who were willing to give me a helping hand. Thank you so much to her, and her Gr10 students Aryvardhan Tanwar,Ella Pattison,Eva Gregersen and Neil Neumann for their amazing short story submissions.

Suzanne O’Reilly-Our school photographer is another one of those people that I have always looked to for assistance in advertising my club and helping me bring it forward—and she has never disappointed. Her quick actions and responses to my

requests still continues to surprise me, and I’m very grateful for the role she has played in bringing our magazine to life.

Other Clubs-Both the Book Club and the Charity Club have generously contributed to this magazine, giving us insight into what they do. Thank you so much.

I hope all of you will consider joining these wonderful clubs next year if you haven’t already. Being President of Charity Club, I have been given the responsibility of welcoming new people into our club and assigning new roles,so even if you’re interested in joining this year, take heart it’s possible. Just contact me.

Club members-Without the people mentioned below,this magazine would have been left empty. Their creativity and ideas is what brings colour to each page. What gives me the motivation to do what I’m doing. Thank you Aiya Webb, Mahnaz Siddiki,Mairie Storch,Liva Wagner,Sonja Tepponen,Diana Capuano,Aziza Yuldosheva,Eva Bradford,Ginger Xiao,Jivina Harwani, Philip Okkels, Madalena Silva, Bianca Bibby, Nathalie Okkels ,Karan Raj, Lucy Frøslev,Clara Frøslev, Ashlyn Doyle, Eve Rahi and Melissa Kalyana.

All of you- Without you, my readers, this magazine would serve no purpose. So thank you for spending time reading it, and as a club we hope you have enjoyed it! Remember that we are always looking for new members, so come join us next year—there are so many different ways you can help! As you might have noticed, many people from outside my club have also contributed to this magazine. So to all the parents, friends and teachers within the community or outside it—we are delighted to have included you!