RINGING VOICES 2019 An anthology of student writing
Introduction – Ringing Voices 2019
Sylvia Plath, American poet, once stated that “… everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” In our English classes this year, from Years 5 to 12, we have encouraged our students to engage in the creative writing process by improvising and giving them the opportunity to develop their self-confidence in the craft of writing. In our Year 12 English classes, students were asked to write in response to Alfred Hitchcock’s film, Rear Window, and in Year 9 English classes students were asked to respond to Shakespeare’s play, The Merchant of Venice. The Year 11 Literature students were inspired by the poetry of Emily Dickinson and other students found their voice through writing short stories which focused on themes of survival and courage. This year’s selection of student work showcases the remarkable ability of our students to communicate their thoughts in innovative and engaging ways. All written work, some created under timed conditions, started as a blank canvas, then evolved into a series of embryonic ideas that eventually took shape as a cogent piece of writing, carefully crafted through a self-directed planning and editing process. While the pieces in this anthology have been carefully selected and are considered exemplars of good writing, I leave you with the words of Nigerian writer, Chinua Achebe, and remind you that “…a good writer doesn’t really need to be told anything except to keep at it.” Thus, I applaud these students on their tenacity and engagement with the writing process, for good writing comes from deliberate practice and continual commitment. Engagement with literature is also an essential tenet to good writing, and so I encourage all to continue to read; its joy is boundless.
Ms Michelle Maglitto English Co-ordinator
IN T R O DUC T I O N
1
Isabella Madden - Year 5 Watercolour on paper
2
Y E AR 5
Immortality!
The wizard found what he was looking
Muttering to himself about pies getting
Then he ran. Without any caution. He
for. The secret ingredient for his brew,
cold and becoming sick because of it,
just ran. He managed to dodge most of
this... magic, that mortals call, raspberry
Montello strolled back to his shack. But,
the rotten tomatoes, at least.
jam. Montello poured the contents
when he looked on his enchanted table,
of the sweet-smelling jar into his big,
(on which he eats), there was no pie
“Ouch!” There was an arrow in his
bubbling cauldron. He had worked so
at all, just a few crumbs and his plate.
bottom. “Eek!” Fire singed his hair.
hard on this pie, and this was his last
Someone had stolen his pie! Montello
Soon enough, the arrow caught on fire
jar of jam. Suddenly, there was a big,
noticed something tucked under his
too. Montello finally reached the end
bright, pink ‘poof!’ that smelt of fresh,
plate, a little note, saying: “If you want
of the corridor, where he coincidentally
delicious fruit. And there it was, a
to see your precious pie ever again,
found a bucket of water and poured
perfect looking pie, ready for his belly.
then follow the arrows...”
it all over himself. He grabbed the pie but suddenly remembered the booby
But as Montello cut it, something felt Immediately, silver arrows started
traps. He looked at the corridor and
appearing, pointing to one direction,
all the traps roared to life. Without
There was a feeling inside Montello’s
the mountains. The trail led out to
hesitation, he ran again. He dodged all
belly, that someone was watching
forests, through open fields, and
the arrows and raining tomatoes but
him, cutting into his invisible bubble,
over sandy deserts, until finally, they
unfortunately caught on fire, again. As
which confined everyone from seeing
stopped at a shrine upon the tallest,
soon as Montello reached where he had
his shack, except himself, of course.
snowiest mountain in the world! The
started, he grabbed his cloak and hat,
‘No,’ he thought, ‘The invisible bubble
ancient doors spontaneously flew open.
still burning.
is unbreakable.’ Suddenly, he heard a
Checking for any booby traps, Montello
sound, the sound of feet coming his
cautiously walked inside. There was
Bolting for the entrance, Montello
way. Montello’s feet took him outside,
a long corridor, extending as far as
flung himself onto the cool snow,
to where he’d heard that sound. There
Montello could see. There, at the end
which immediately put out the fire. He
was nothing and no one there to see.
of the corridor was his precious pie.
lay there for a while, with his pie on
“See?” Montello told himself, “Nothing
But, there were booby traps. A lot of
the dish next to him he found in the
to worry about.” What he didn’t know
them. Burning fire, flying arrows, and
corridor. Then, standing up, he picked
was that someone had infiltrated his
worst of all... raining rotten tomatoes.
up his pie, and trudged off back home,
shack after all...
“Okay,” Montello sighed, “only one
following the arrows again.
wrong...
way to do this.” Montello took off his hat, then his cloak, so all that he had
Back at his shack, Montello heated up
left on was his underwear.
his pie with his stove, and cut a slice off the wonderfully smelling pie, and munched with relish.
YE AR 5
3
Immortality!
Is Anybody There?
(Epilogue: By a monk in the middle of
A moan rings out involuntarily,
Cold fingers press down on his neck,
nowhere, all alone. He says he isn’t, but
Slivers of light doth disappear.
He looks around and the feeling recedes.
he is).
The dark, unventured corner,
“Is there anybody there?” the boy asks,
Holds someone or something there.
Horror grows inside like weeds.
wizard, who loved pie so much that
He wakes up fearful, shivering,
Sickly, grisly features emerge,
when someone stole his pie, he
His oily clothes glued to his cold skin.
Eyes wild like a madman.
embarked on a dangerous mission
Something’s not right; out of place,
“Yes, boy, I am here, bow before me,”
to get it back. Now children, you can
Pure white terror sets in.
“You’re now a pawn in my evil plan!”
adult’s permission to do that. You will
Slowly the wardrobe door creaks open,
At dinner he hesitantly asks his mum,
also need a pie and a person, (magical
Nothing scary to be seen inside.
“Can I sleep with you tonight, please?”
would be very useful), and a very tall
Still and darker the room grows,
Her warm smile disperses his mind’s
mountain that is a long way away.
By darkness’ rule must he abide.
shadows,
That is all I can tell you. Good bye.
The chilling sensation grows larger,
That was the story of Montello the
try this at home, but you will need an
And then she kindly agrees.
Now it’s the end
He whimpers, “Is anybody there?”
That night as he gingerly goes to bed,
Calling for mum but no reply,
His thoughts are care-free and fair.
Whispers in his mind say, “Boy, beware!”
Memories fade and disappear,
Claire Lau Year 5
He checks, “Is anybody there?” Slowly a figure emerges, made from
Xinyan (Tong Tong) Zhou
shadow, Face grinning and dripping with evil. In a flash it washes away, Everything becomes peaceful. Lightning flashes the second night, A figure, silhouetted through the curtain. The boy stifles an alarmed scream, What was there is to the boy uncertain.
4
Y E AR 5
Year 5
Paper Scissors Rock
Prologue Roy looked out of his window; the
“Hi, I am Paper, this is Scissors, and this
Before they began work, Rock asked
is the Enchantress who supposedly sent
Paper who she was going to attend the
you here.”
Winter Waltz with. It turned out that she was going with Scissors.
Paris sky was a dark grey. People were running frantically this way and that.
“Yeah, that is true,” said Rock to himself. The next day, Rock was getting nervous.
Roy drew his attention to one lady. She was having trouble crossing the
“So, where am I?” asked Rock.
He did not know who to dance with and the festival was that afternoon. Rock
road. Roy opened the window to get a better look at her but as soon as
“Welcome to Paperville,” replied Paper.
was sitting alone in his cave when he
he opened it, a gust of icy wind burst
Rock saw a berry bush; he was kind of
felt a strange, foreign emotion. It was
through the window. If he left it open
hungry. He bent down but as soon as
a mixture of sadness and anger. It was
his younger sister would wake up. Roy
he touched the berry his whole finger
jealousy. The Winter Festival was about
quickly closed the window, put his
crumpled! “Oh dear!” cried Paper.
to start so Rock clambered down the mountain. Something inside him made
jacket on and crept downstairs and out the front door. He walked to the
“I advise you not to touch anything in
him stop. He had felt the same emotion
woman and laughed at her as she lost
this forest,” bellowed the Enchantress.
in his cave earlier. Only stronger! It was
her hat. The old lady walked up to Roy
“If you don’t want to crumble anymore,
as if every step he took the emotion
and whispered these words softly in his
you should live in that cave over there.”
grew bigger. Rock was almost at the
ear. “You have a heart of rock so that is
Rock glanced at the rocky cave that
festival when he saw Paper and Scissors
what you shall be forever!”
the Enchantress was pointing at and
talking together. Scissors carefully
then to his hands. He finally made his
handed Paper a bunch of flowers. Rock
decision and clambered all the way to
stood dead in his tracks. The jealousy
the rocky mountain cave.
in his stomach grew bigger and bigger.
...
Rock quickly looked away. The emotion
Roy wearily opened his eyes. When he got his senses back, he got up and
Rock was sent a letter inviting him to
still stayed there but it didn’t get any
had a look around. To his surprise he
the Winter Festival. On the back of the
bigger. Rock sat down in the second
saw three people looking down at him.
page, it listed all the people helping.
to last row of chairs in a humph. He
One of them he knew for sure. It was
Paper oversaw the decoration and
looked around and was amazed by all
the lady he laughed at except she was
Scissors oversaw the food. Below it
the beautiful bouquets and lanterns. His
much younger.
asked whether Rock wanted to help. He
belly started to rumble when he saw all
decided to help with the chairs, tables
the delicious pies and pastries on a silk
and dance floor.
covered table.
YE AR 5
5
Paper Scissors Rock
The Enchantress made a speech and
was absurd. The anger took up Rock’s
After Paper’s funeral, Scissors and the
began saying it to the audience. “I
whole body, organs and mind. It was
Enchantress were in front of the ‘Ancient
would like to make a special mention
as if Rock’s anger controlled his mind,
Paper Tree’. Scissors cut another shape
to Paper and Scissors for volunteering
his behavior and his actions. Rock saw
of Paper the same way as he had done
to help put the festival together. Can
that Scissors had his head turned, so
with the first Paper.
you two please stand up?” Paper and
before he knew it, Rock was moving
Scissors humbly stood up and walked
toward Scissors at full speed. When he
After he finished, the Enchantress used
to the front of the stage while everyone
was close enough, he prepared to run
her magic to bring her alive. By sunset
clapped and cheered. That was it! Rock’s
into Scissors, intending for him to be
Scissors and Paper were living with each
jealousy blew up inside him, then was
crushed. Paper was watching Rock and
other again carefully and happily.
replaced by another emotion. This one
when he was close to Scissors, Paper
he had felt before. This emotion was
made a sacrifice. She leaped in front
Roy woke up to find himself in his bed,
anger. Rock stood up, knocking his chair
of Rock, causing him to run into her.
everything was the same. It seemed like
over behind him. Rock stood in the
As soon as Rock touched Paper, he
he had been at Paperville for 3 days but
walkway, which lead to the stage where
disintegrated, leaving a pile of crumbled
when he returned it hadn’t even been
Scissors was standing. The audience
rocks in his place.
1 minute. He ran downstairs and back to the lady having trouble crossing. He
gasped in confusion. Paper and Scissors stared at Rock. The Enchantress secretly
Everyone froze, even the Enchantress.
picked up her hat, gave it back to her
smiled, for she had intentionally left
Paper stood there amazed. She didn’t
and helped her cross the road.
Rock’s name out.
want to destroy Rock. Paper walked backwards, away from the pile of rocks.
“Why did you not say my name!”
Suddenly she tripped over a bump in the
shouted Rock, “I helped set up the
carpet, causing her to fall on Scissors.
chairs, tables and dancefloor!” he
Scissors put his arms in front of him,
bellowed.
hoping to catch Paper, but he forgot
“I am sorry,” Roy whispered in her ear. “For what?” replied the woman. “Everything.”
about how he couldn’t touch Paper. “I am sorry, but you seem to not be
Paper fell back into Scissors’ arms.
on the waiting list,” sniggered the
Year 5
Enchantress. Rock’s anger grew bigger,
“No!” screamed the Enchantress
like his jealousy had; only his anger had
but it was too late. Paper already lay
no limits. It kept growing when he saw
motionless on the floor.
the audience looking at him as if he
6
Emily Salimi
Y E AR 5
The Battle between Rock, Paper and Scissors
Rock I open my eyes to the world of rocks on a thirty metre cliff. I clamber to the edge of the giant rock and get a view of the most amazing and beautiful sight. I see a little fairy. She has exquisite wings and she is wearing such a pretty dress. She looks so gentle and softhearted. I can’t even take my eyes off her. This angel is the guardian of the forest, she is the love of my life and her name is Paper. I look ahead and see darkness. All the greenery has died and has turned black. I can’t see who is behind this, but I have a feeling I know who it is, Scissors. I move my hand and lean forward to try to get a better view. I place my hand on a loose rock, suddenly fall, tumble down the cliff, and land on a fresh, green patch pf grass. I look up and for the first time I see Paper up close. Seeing Paper in this perspective just makes me admire her even more. I see the fine details in her magnificent coral hair. The hazel hue in her eyes twinkle, like stars in the sun. When she smiles, she looks as sweet as a butterfly. Then I realise why I’m down here. I get up and ask Paper to come with me by showing my hand to her. She doesn’t show it on her face or tell me, but I can feel it in my heart that she trusts me. I take her hand, but my hand starts to crumble! Why is this happening? I know Paper is very lenient and has a benevolent soul and means no harm. I look at her face, she looks scared. I don’t know what to do but we have no time to worry or stress. This a life-threatening situation. Scissors cannot kill us. I can tell we are both thinking the same thing and together we run! Scissors I hate everyone in this world because everyone hates me. I was named number one criminal last year, and nobody has defeated me yet. I wish for power and I want everyone to bow to me. I was raised in an orphanage and I had no friends. I would steal and scare children. I would always want the villain to gain power and strength in movies. Everyone is afraid of me. I want this world to be colourless. There should be no red, orange, yellow and all the other colours except black. This forest is so green and white. It is so repugnant that I can barely even look at it. But it is not going to be like this for long. Rock We sprint through lush green trees, elegant flowers and magnificent looking plants until we get to a dead end. We don’t know what to do. I start to panic. Is Scissors going to take over the world? Is this my last day living? Suddenly Scissors appears in front of us with his sharp blades and wicked, cruel smile.
YE AR 5
7
The Battle between Rock, Paper and Scissors
Paper I am just really annoyed. Scissors has destroyed all my flowers and trees and now he’s trying to kill us. I hate the arrogant and pitiless look he is showing us. My heart boils up with so much anger and rage, that I impulsively attack! Scissors’ blade cuts through me and I no longer see the light of day. Rock “Paper!” I cry. How could Scissors do this? Doesn’t he understand love? I am furious. I have never been this upset and angry in my life! Scissors is a tiny speck of plankton compared to me. I know I can defeat and kill him once and for all. I am not doing this for me, nor for the whole world but I am doing this for Paper. I gain energy by defying Scissors’ power. He cuts me but his actions only make me more furious. With all my might I hit him. Scissors gets knocked out and is unconscious. I leap into the air and crash down onto Scissors. He is finally dead. I turn around and see Paper’s body. Scissors has cut through her really deeply. All of her skin is coming off, but I know how to heal her. I need to take Paper back to where she lives, in the very centre and heart of the forest. I lift her up, but my hands start to crumble. I remember what happened earlier. I can’t touch Paper. But I want Paper to live. I want her to regrow the forest. I love Paper too much and I will do anything for her, even if that means I have to sacrifice my life. I willingly take Paper’s body and carry her to her home. Paper I wake up shocked and for a few seconds I have forgotten what happened. I realise all the lovely, pretty plants have grown back, and I look down. I see Rock’s head lying on the evergreen grass and I lift it up. Rock sacrificed his life for me! I see he is smiling, and I tenderly reach for his head and hug it. Tears of sadness and love drip down my cheeks. I love Rock so much. I will always protect Rock’s body and will make sure nothing happens to it, just like what he did for me.
Vidya Sivakumar Year 5
8
Y E AR 5
Hannah Tjangdjaja - Year 6 Paper mache vase
YE AR 6
9
P!nk (Elizabeth M Butt)
She is flying around the stadium, the crowd singing and cheering along, flip after flip until the song ends. Alecia Moore, professionally known as P!nk is a person whom I love because she is determined, inspirational and strong. Determination is a big part of who Alecia has become. Although she is a world-renowned singer she is also a full time mother of two. Her determination has led her through many hard times in her life. Including an overdose when she was fifteen, being caught in the crossfire of her parents’ fiery divorce as well as fighting back the trolls who criticise her because she is proud of who she is. Alecia Moore’s determination has been the key to her success. When something goes wrong, she just picks herself up again and continues with her life. ‘I can turn a heartbreak into songs that help other people’. This is a quote from P!nk after writing and singing the song ‘so what’ which is a song expressing her feelings after she broke up with her husband. This quote and song has helped women going through the same thing know that they are not alone, that even a celebrity can have the same problems but can just keep on going. I think if you have determination you can achieve and come back from anything. Strength. Alecia Moore is strong physically and mentally. Her strength has pushed her through her life. A proud feminist who loves who she is and will not apologise to anyone for it, most women do not have the courage to be able to do such things. Being able to do that even in the public eye shows true strength. Her physical strength is also part of who she is, unlike other singers and some famous women the most important thing in life for them is to have a perfect body, but Alecia buys none of that, her strength is visible and she does not apologise for it one little bit. In pretty much all of her music videos she doesn’t even try to hide the raw strength that is visible just from looking at the muscle in her upper arms, and in her music video ‘try’ she is seen wearing a tight fitting leotard where you can clearly see how truly strong her tummy muscles are. Inspiration towards young women and girls is mainly what I most admire about her. She sends the message to them saying I am not perfect because I am not afraid to be who I actually am. “True beauty is knowing who you are and what you want and never apologising for it.” P!nk said this after she wrote her song ‘perfect’ and I believe that, that quote was one of her most inspirational quotes. I say this because speaking from personal experience, you do not always love who you are, and I am sure that some of you may have experienced a similar thing. That is okay but her mission is to try to stop the self-hate that everyday people feel. These entire qualities sum up the kind of person Alecia Moore has become, these qualities are also, what makes me love her.
Zoe Brown Year 6
10
Y E AR 6
August 14th, 1931
A response to the text: The Endsister
All I remember are the fatal bombs cascading down onto the
In London- a cloudy day,
once beautiful, alive school. It once had glamorous wildlife,
I’m at home, just lonely me,
green vines hanging from the buildings and old but gorgeous
As I look outside the window,
trees, strong enough for children to play on. All the kids were
I think of where I could be.
full of energy and life and were always smiling. The teachers did not beat or smack them but instead would fill their young
I wish I could go to Australia,
and curious minds with knowledge and happiness. Now
I really do miss living free,
there’s none of that. Now all the trees have fallen and are
I loved rolling in the gleaming hills,
nothing but large, burnt sticks of wood. The teachers have
Underneath my favourite tree.
all fled, half mad with fear and the students are gone, don’t ask where, I don’t know. Some are being locked away, safe
The endsister whines- loudly,
apparently. Then there is me. Weak, homeless, parentless me.
“Your family left you alone,
I fell unconscious when the class collapsed, when I woke up
If you were so important to them,
everything I loved and knew was gone. I only had my rusted
You wouldn’t be at home.”
diary and a pencil, my grandfather’s secret invention. He made it for me so I could write anywhere, anytime but he’s
I reach far in my memories,
gone now, just like everyone else. Now it’s just me, no food,
And peer at the thoughts,
no water, nothing but a little shelter.
I see a shining girl, But her insides are rocks.
Therese Taouk Year 6
Now my life goes on, To the beat of a drum, Now I ask myself- silent,
Bushfire
What has Sibbi become?
Hannah Tjangdjaja Its smoke devours the bush.
Year 6
The raging fire destroys wildlife like a serial killer. The fire is a monstrous dragon with nothing stopping it. A troublesome predator to eliminate.
Ella Wang and Alexandra Petre Year 6
YE AR 6
11
Ruth Bader Ginsburg
Imagine, being laughed at for your ambitions. Being the smartest student but never getting a chance to shine. Imagine doing your own work and your husband’s too while you are both in law school. Would you have given up, and forgotten about your passion? Or kept going? Well Ruth Bader Ginsburg also known as the notorious RBG showed the world that it was possible to plough through the obstacles that life throws up in front of you. I look up to her. She is persistent, strong and smart. She fought for what she knew was right, and never gave up. Ruth was a hardworking and passionate lawyer who graduated at the top of her class. No matter how many personal struggles she had to deal with she persisted in exceeding her academic goals at law school. Her husband was diagnosed with a serious cancer while they were both law students. This intrepid woman took on the challenge of looking after their young daughter, keeping her sick husband up to date with his studies, and on top of that maintaining her position at the top of the class. She is equally passionate about her family, and her work, which I admire very much. At Harvard Law School Ruth took on many challenges, such as looking after her two children and being in a male dominated school in which she was one of nine females in the 500-person class. She faced an appalling amount of gender discrimination by even the highest authorities at the law school, who once told her that she took a well-earned man’s spot. People laughed at her opinions, even though often they were better than those of the men in her class. Despite all the good grades she got, she was always rejected from jobs because of her gender. After this wouldn’t you consider giving up? Ruth was determined, and she decided she would act to make sure than men and women were treated more equally in society. She, and a team of lawyers, decided to bring a gender discrimination case to the Supreme Court of the United States After being teased, almost giving up and nearly losing the case, she and her team won! Thanks to Ruth, women like me have more opportunities. Later in her career, she earned herself a place on the Supreme Court of the United States, where to this day she decides many important issues that affect the people of the USA. So, as I conclude my speech I would like to ask you, what choice will you make when you see injustice in your society? Will you act to change things, or will you just accept things the way they are? Do you have a little bit of the spirit of the “Notorious RBG” inside you?
Priyanka De Silva Year 6 Elizabeth M Butt Public Speaking Grand Finalist
12
Y E AR 6
Sudiksha Dand - Year 7 Reduction lino
YE AR 7
13
Perspective “Shhhh! Garrison’s coming!” Desiree
went out. Quebec is new- this is her
bag. I regretted calling her mean. Tears
whisper-shouts. Everyone goes back to
first time going out of the fridge. She
soaked her orange skin and the paper
where they’re supposed to be. Valencia
still has her seal on. Valencia squealed.
bag. Lucky the mushrooms weren’t
and Clementine stop fighting abruptly. I
“Oh, so exciting! Quebec’s first time
inside. I tore a fresh scrap of paper bag
sit still at the bottom of the cold-cabinet.
going out!” Valencia has a wedge
and handed it to her. Her deep blue
I listen quietly and I can hear Garrison’s
missing, because she went out. But we
eyes stared at me. And then she wailed.
voice, and his heavy footsteps.
have a rule that if you survive going
She cried like the fridge was falling. I
out, you can’t ruin the surprise of what
reached up and shut the cabinet so no
it’s like. When I got put in the fridge I
one could hear.
Before I continue, I’ll tell you where I am. I don’t know what you were thinking, people make all kinds of guesses at this point. This is the big
was in a plastic bag, so I’ve never ever seen the kitchen.
“Valencia is so mean! She acts like a martyr just because she’s been out! I
A little while later, Garrison put Quebec
didn’t mean to be mean. Garrison will
back in the shelf. We waited for his
punish me! He’ll pick my seeds out one
footsteps to soften before we erupted
by one! Noooo!” she sobbed. I looked
into questions. “What was it like?”
at her sympathetically. “Don’t worry,
Clementine shrieked. “Did you enjoy
just forget about Valencia,” I tried to
it?” Continental shouted. “Calm down
soothe her and her crying ceased for
everyone!” Yelled Valencia, louder
a while. “Thank you, Corella. Do you
than everyone. Silence followed, but
want to stay for dinner? My husband
it was broken by Clementine. “Shut
and my daughter would love a guest.
your mouth Valencia! No one wants to
I’ve already prepared the food!”
hear from a chopped-up orange!” Tears
As Clementine spoke a small smile
It might sound strange to you, but
formed in Valencia’s eyes. Continental
appeared on her face. I didn’t have
if you live in the fridge the greatest
and his son Pickle went over to her,
any plans, so I accepted. I’d never
honour is to see the world outside
trying to calm her down like cool
met Imperial and Halo, Clementine’s
the fridge. And the longer you stay
cucumbers. Clementine blushed and
family. They arrived soon after our
here the older you get. If you die (rot)
dived into the bottom of the cold-
conversation and I went back to my
before you get out, you’ve missed your
cabinet, next to me. I turned away. She’s
corner when it was dark. The lights in
chance. I think I have less than two
mean. Am I mean for saying that? Moral
the fridge go off every night, and most
weeks left before I go squishy.
dilemmas of a worried pear.
of us go to bed when the lights go out.
Anyway, back to the story. Garrison
I heard muffled sobs. Oh, poor Valencia,
opened the fridge. His large, wrinkly
I thought, but then I realised that they
hand reached in and grasped Quebec,
were close to me. Turning around, I saw
the maple syrup. She grinned as she
Clementine, sobbing into a mushroom
reveal. I’m in Garrison’s fridge. Yes, I’m a pear. My name is Corella, and I’m named after the pear variety Corella Forelle. The apples say that I’m quite attractive, with my lime-green skin and scarlet red shades. I’m a little embarrassed by my spots, but you can’t have everything. My life is slightly dull, but that’s not my main worry- I’m worried I won’t get out.
14
Y E AR 7
As I lay in my comfy bed of plastic, I realised that I wanted to see Valencia and Clementine as friends before I go.
Perspective
I woke up as the fridge opened. Garrison’s daughters, Milly
my eyebrows in surprise. “Yay! Navel! Navelina!” Clementine’s
and Lucinda, sometimes take things from the fridge. I knew it
daughter Halo warmly embraced Navel and Navelina. They
was Milly as I saw a chubby, soft hand reach in to get Calcium,
held hands and sat down to play a game. Clementine’s
the milk. Another thing I want to see before I go – Garrison’s
shocked expression softened. “Oh, they’re so cute!” Valencia
daughters. I’ve seen Garrison’s face, but the daughters aren’t
laughed. They exchanged glances and I smiled. Small children
tall enough to be seen.
had mended a cut, a void... Valencia and Clementine were
That day was uneventful, except that I met Valencia’s twins,
friends.
Navel and Navelina. And, Old Grandpa Cheddar went off. A
I could tell that Garrison was cooking something. Galangal,
disease infected him- he had a green fuzzy spot on his cheek.
Hoi Sin, Kaffir and Jalapeno all went out. I could hear sizzling
I went to his funeral. It was one of the saddest things that’s
and stirring, and I knew that the ones who went out tonight
happened to my life- apart from my family.
wouldn’t come back. But Hoi Sin came back. His eyes were
At night, I heard Hoi Sin sleep talking. He said ‘Oh, how I miss the days when Garrison poured me on Peking Duck, and let me marinate beef... I miss those days.’ I felt sorry for him. I miss the days with Packham and William.
sparkling, and he looked incredibly radiant, even jubilant. “I was used for Peking Duck!” He gasped, looking at everyone with wide eyes. I couldn’t stop grinning- it was his dream to have that thrill again. That was two of my bucket list items checked off. Now it was just my family, but I was getting old- I
Sorry, I keep moaning about my family. But you would moan too if it happened to you.
didn’t have much time to find my family before I died. The next day was shopping day. Garrison opened the fridge
I had a husband called Packham. We had a son called William.
with a bag laden with food, and there were many new
Every night when the supermarket closed, we would leave our
additions. I couldn’t handle the longing for my family, so I
areas and meet as a family in William’s crate. I loved them. It
hid away in my lonely corner. But later that day Clementine
was the day when our daughter was going to be born, and I
and Valencia walked in, chatting animatedly as they walked.
fainted from the heat. My husband told me that our daughter
Clementine turned to face me, excitement filling her face.
was alright, and we had already named her Anjou. But before
“Corella! There are three new pears!” she said. I sat up so
I could see her, Garrison picked me up and my family was
fast that I felt dizzy. Clementine opened the cabinet and I
gone. I’ve forever wished that I could see them.
clambered out eagerly. And there, under the bright light of
It was a few days later that I found my squishy spot. I was worried immediately so I went to see Clementine. When I got there, Clementine said that two of her daughter’s friends
the fridge, was my family. I ran to Packham, weeping as I hugged him. He was just like I remembered. Then I saw my children.
were coming. I sat down and there was a rustle in the bags
“William! Anjou!” I swept them up into a warm cuddle, their
that blocked Clementine’s area. In walked Valencia, Navel and
small bodies leaning in towards me. I spent the rest of the day
Navelina. Clementine was shocked. Her jaw dropped. I raised
and night with them.
YE AR 7
15
Book review: A Wrinkle in Time
Perspective
By Madeleine L’Engle
I heard Garrison’s footsteps outside
Macmillan
the fridge. I could just make out the word ‘Pear,’ and I hugged my family
“A delinquent, that’s what I am, Meg thought grimly. That’s what they’ll be saying
tighter than ever, before stepping to
next. Not Mother. But Them. Everyone Else. I wish Father…”
the side. Garrison’s hand reached in and took me. I caught Hoi Sin’s eyes for a
Madeleine L’Engle became a common household name after the success of her
second, still sparkling with joy. Then I
Time Quintet series. She specialises in adventure novels and science fiction while still
saw Clementine and Valencia waving,
creating a relatable and humorous storyline. A Wrinkle in Time, the first book in the
together. My heart swelled. And then I
series is about a teenage girl called Meg- whose father disappeared almost a year
was out.
ago. So, when her precocious little brother Charles Wallace introduces her to Mrs
The beams of sunlight were dazzling and warm. Garrison held me above a large hole, and water flowed on top of me, cool and crisp. It was the best feeling. But the greatest moment was next. I fell into the smallest, softest hands, and saw Milly’s face. I saw a glimpse of Lucinda, and I almost cried as I thought of Anjou and William. My life flashed by my eyes- Clementine, Valencia, my family, Hoi Sin... Then Milly lifted me to her mouth. I realised that my best moments were my last moments. And that was okay.
Whatsit- a strange old lady and her two friends, Mrs Who and Mrs Which, Meg is dubious of their reason for suddenly appearing into her life and changing everything. With the help from Calvin- a friend from school, Meg and Charles must embark on an adventure that will not only threaten their lives but our universe. The most memorable books are the ones that make us feel less alone, persuade us that our faults don’t define us, and our quirks make us who we are. This is why A Wrinkle in Time is such a success. When reading this book there is never a dull moment, however the language can become quite complex and confusing. As a result, L’Engle has created a masterpiece that displays humanity at its finest. This novel does not only delight the reader with its captivating plot, but it also covers philosophical themes as the characters discover what it means to be human. This book should be recommended to anyone who enjoys fantasy, adventure, science fiction and dystopian/utopian themes. I give this book a ten out of ten as it is all you
Saria Ratnam Year 7
could ever want in a book. I would recommend this book to anyone but especially for anyone aged eleven upwards as some of the themes in the book are aimed for more mature audiences. A Wrinkle in Time is such a success that it was recently made into a film. Make sure you make a visit to your local bookshop or library your top priority before even considering going to see A Wrinkle in Time.
Sienna Thomas Year 7
16
Y E AR 7
It’s Okay
SAM
SAM
It was 10:27 on a Saturday night when I heard the notification.
I hear Harley singing in the bathroom. She walks out in a
It was then I realised it wasn’t for me. But I am glad I picked
dress and make-up, her normally messy hair tied in a bun.
up. Then I would’ve never found out where my best friend
Something’s going on, and I don’t like it.
had gone: my best friend, Harley McCarthy, my adopted HARLEY
sister.
I’m standing here waiting for John. I remember the first time HARLEY
I met him on Instagram for a dare with my ‘girlies’, confused
I stare at the glass sliding doors, waiting for them to open.
at the underscores and his creepy feed. But once you get to
They don’t. Disappointing, but not surprising. Sam’s been so
know him, he’s so sweet. I’m so excited to see him!!
strange recently. I check my phone to find out where he is. He’s at home. I sigh and lean against my locker and close my
Johnnyplaysfortnite: The_most_gullible_person_I’ve_’met’.
eyes for a second. Since I turned 14, everything has changed.
Thanks_’girlfriend’_for_the_number. And_yourself.
I joined Verity and her group and became popular. I now have the alter ego of a super shy girl and must hang out with
SAM
my girlfriends every day. Sam hasn’t talked to me since my
The house was surprisingly quiet today. My stepdad, Harry,
birthday. Everything is ruined. And I don’t know why.
wasn’t home on the couch as usual. Mum was still in her study, but Harley isn’t here. I’m a little worried, but she could
Johnnyplaysfortnite: Hey_again_sweetie.
be with her ‘girlies’.
Harley.unicorn_m: Hey? Do I know you? I don’t follow you.
SAM It’s been two days.
Johnnyplaysfortnite: Yeah,_we_met_at_school_don’t_you_ remember. I_said_ilysm_and_you_walked_away. Still_mad_
Johnnyplaysfortnite: I check on her. She’s shivering but not
you_don’t_know_me.
struggling.
Harley.unicorn_m: Umm... Sorry I don’t.
HARLEY I can’t breathe.
Johnnyplaysfortnite: I_was_wondering_if_we_could_meet_up_ SAM
again_at_the_Central_Park. What’s_your_number?
I’ve given up waiting. Harry is gone, so I decided to check out his office for clues. Harry’s always been a little strange. His office is more like landfill, with papers flying everywhere. I dig into the papers, cautious of Harry turning up. I always found it
YE AR 7
17
It’s Okay
suspicious that Harry disappeared when Harley disappeared.
The boy arrived.
Then I see it. A notification. From harley.unicorn_m. “You USED me. You were never my father. YOU-” Johnnyplaysfortnite: babe_you_at_the_park_yet? The_ flowers_are_getting_crumpled.
“Listen. Life is unfair, suck it up. Now that you’re here-”
Harley.unicorn_m: awww you bought flowers? I’m at the
“NOW!!!”
corner of Rochesters Avenue. This wasn’t in the plan. Johnnyplaysfortnite: kk_come_soon_miss_you_already. SAM HARRY
The police come and grab Harry.
Notification from the Circle: meet at Callowhill Cliff at 12:00pm. We expect the girl dead for you to become the
“Choose now: that GIRL or your own father!”
boss. I look at Harry: pleading. But I’ve learnt to see his fakeness, Johnnyplaysfortnite: The boy would’ve foiled my plan now.
the cruel soul. Harley looks at me, struggling but gives me a
But no boy is clever enough to dodge a red herring.
soft smile.
SAM
“She’ll always be my girl.”
I see her. The ginger hair, tattered dress, ruined make-up. I remember the first time she moved in, when her parents died.
I run to Harley and we cry, hug and laugh like nobody’s
5-years-old, in her pink dress and Skechers shoes eating her
watching.
ice-cream from Maccas. Those were the days. Looking at her now, my heart melts. She’s always been the Harley I know; the
HARLEY
Harley I love.
Sam. Sam... I love him to the moon and back. And he’s not going to like what’s coming next.
HARLEY I see Sam running up. Tied to my chair on the edge of
“Sam?”
Callowhill Cliff I scream. “Yes?” “SAM!! SAM NO!! IT’S A TRAP!!! SAM RUN!!” “Don’t get mad at me.” HARRY aka Johnnyplaysfortnite:
18
Y E AR 7
It’s Okay
“What...” “Hear me out. The Circle needs a boss. Harry was the next boss, but he had to complete his mission to get rid of me. I’m the child of the old boss and with me still around, The Circle will los-” “Harley. No. No. HARLEY. Please, please, I’ve lost everyone except you. Listen to me, pleas-” “It’s for the best.” “Harley STOP!” That’s when I ran to the other side. And jumped. SAM My face turns white as I see her jump. I need to do something. And that’s when I did something. HARLEY I feel a hand grab me. I feel angry and relieved at the same time. “Let me go.” “No... please no!! Harley-” “It’s okay...” “PLEASE, PLEASE, HARLEY!!!” I’ve had my happily ever after. I had a family, a friend, a true love. It’s time to move on. SAM She pushes away from me and slowly walks away. Not looking back. My best friend. My best friend till the end.
Linh Duong Year 7
YE AR 7
19
The Man who Bragged
‘Ha! I win again! No one will ever beat me.”
Dave stomped all the way home.
The gang members sighed and dropped their cards on the
‘How could anyone be smarter than me? Who is this Aunt Tina?’
round wooden table admitting defeat. Dave eagerly scooped
thought Dave as he trudged through the streets. The water
up all the money he won from the card game and carefully
from the lake glistened and sparkled like gems while the sun
counted it while the overhead light flickered. The men leaned
beat down on his back.
back, arms crossed. They were annoyed. ‘Again pals? A rematch perhaps? But it’s not fun when you know who’s going
‘Oof!’ grunted an old woman as she fell. Dave laughed, walking
to win, is it?,’ drilled Dave, smirking. The lights flickered again,
past her without a second glance. ‘Aren’t you going to help
creating more tension in the air. The coins clinked as they were
me?’ she cried. Dave stopped and spun on his heel to face her.
stacked. The leader, a large stocky man in a slightly ill-fitting suit named Tony, leaned forward, arms crossed on the table.
‘S.M.A.R.T. Is that your name?’ asked Dave, reading her nametag, ‘what a coincidence that your name spells ‘smart’.’
‘Yeah, sure. But this time we’re teaming up and if we win we get
Dave sat down on the park bench, enjoying the light breeze
all your money,’ Tony declared slyly.
that tickled his skin. The old woman sat by him on the ground.
‘Four against one? And I get nothing if I win? I hardly think
‘My first name is Shirley,” the woman stated, turning to face
that’s fair,’ sighed Dave, the men glaring at him. Dave hesitated
him, ‘why do you have a sack?’
before standing up from his chair, a sack of money in one hand, gripped tightly. ‘Never mind pals, let’s call it a day. Maybe next
‘This?’ asked Dave, grinning from ear to ear, ‘I won all of this.
time. But I hardly think you’ll win. I’m the most handsome,
Won all six games in the card game against four other men.
strongest, richest and smartest person alive,’ grinned Dave.
Amazing right? They never win. They ask for rematches and I
Tony chuckled and stood up, the men following.
still win!’ Dave laughed, ‘they’re not even that good!’
‘You are definitely not the smartest,’ laughed Tony. Dave glared,
Shirley looked at Dave curiously. Then an idea popped into her
raising a brow. ‘Aunt Tina is.’
head. ‘Well, if you think you’re so great, I have a challenge to prove just that.’
‘Who’s Aunt Tina?’ splattered Dave, no longer smiling. Tony couldn’t stop sniggering.
~
‘Someone smarter than you, that’s for sure,’ he responded,
The trees towered over, blocking the sunlight. The warm zephyr
returning to the table to have a seat. Dave glowered at him,
brushed the dirt away covering tracks and coating nature with
slamming the door shut on his way out.
a soft touch. Dave stood eye to eye with the tiger; circling each
~
other, weary of even the slightest of movement. The tiger bared
20
Y E AR 7
The Man who Bragged
its teeth, its orange and black fur waving in the wind. Dave
A fifteen page booklet was placed down in front of them and
stood barefoot, aware of everything around him. Suddenly,
Shirley gave the command to begin. Soon, the only noise in the
Dave pounced, wrestling the tiger with his bare hands. He
room was the scribbling of pencils on paper.
wrapped his hands around its neck; the tiger began to struggle, his legs flailing around aimlessly. Its movement became strained
A glance from Shirley showed that the professor was calmly
as Dave held on tight. ‘OK, that’s enough,’ exclaimed Shirley,
working through the paper, little emotion on his face whilst
stepping out from behind some trees. Dave release the tiger,
Dave worked furiously, the determination to win and realisation
who scrambled away. Shirley and Dave eyed it until it had
that the professor was making the same progress etched in his
disappeared into the depths of the jungle.
brow. He glanced towards the professor and snarled.
‘Have I proven how great I am?’ asked Dave, standing
Shirley checked her watch and announced ‘three minutes to
pompously. Shirley shrugged. ‘Not really, no.’ Dave stared at
go!’ Dave looked up and raced to the last page, determined to
her in disbelief.
beat the professor. His hand was aching from writing so much.
~
‘Finished!’ A cry from Dave’s side of the room, a moment before a similar statement echoed from the professor’s.
The hall was silent, the sound of the marker squeaked against the board like a mouse. The door swung open and Dave
Shirley collected the papers and marked them. ‘Well,’ she
entered, Shirley a step behind. The squeaking stopped and the
sighed, ‘The person who got everything correct in the fastest
professor looked up from the board.
time was…Dave.’ Professor Greg stood up, applauded and went to shake Dave’s hand. ‘Congratulations, you were
‘OK, let’s get this competition started, shall we?’ announced
amazing!’ he cried.
Shirley. The next challenge was a difficult maths test that had to be completed within ten minutes. Dave and the professor took
‘I’m always amazing, that was just so easy,’ huffed Dave as he
seats on opposite sides of the room.
ignored the professor’s outstretched hand and headed out the door.
‘By the way, I’m Professor Greg, head of Mathematics here,’ Once he had cleared the door, the professor exclaimed to
explained the professor with a smile.
Shirley, ‘what an obnoxious man.’ Shirley just raised a brow. ‘I’m Dave, head of everything,’ Dave replied, grinning even ~
wider.
YE AR 7
21
The Man who Bragged
Outside the university, Shirley quickly caught up with Dave.
she followed him outside. The sky had darkened, the moon was a lightbulb in the sky, the stars looking down on the two of them
‘I’ve proven that I’m strong and smart,’ Dave exclaimed
as they moved away from the tall hospital building.
confidently. ‘You failed the challenge Dave,’ she said quietly. Dave looked ‘You’re not done yet, where’s the money from the card game?’
up, incensed. ‘But that wasn’t even a challenge!’ he argued.
asked Shirley. ‘Nevertheless, there are consequences,’ Shirley explained. She ‘I’ve got it, why?’ answered Dave. Then he paused. ‘Do you
clicked her fingers.
happen to know anyone called Aunt Tina?’ At first, Dave just laughed at her, but then caught his reflection Shirley just walked away.
in a window. His eyes were sagged. Wrinkles rippled through his face, neck and hands. His once large biceps were now deflated
~
and flopped around. His back hunched over as a lump emerged, forcing his face towards the ground. Dave slumped to the
Monitors beeped steadily while people in white coats and
ground, wailing.
navy uniforms walked around. The warm light created a joyful atmosphere for people sitting on beds with wheels. The place
‘Greatness comes from the heart, Dave,’ Shirley explained. ‘Your
was completely clean, not a piece of dirt could be spotted.
appearance now reflects your arrogant, selfish nature. I hope
‘What are we doing at a hospital?’ Dave asked, following Shirley
you learned your lesson.’
through the wide glass entry. Shirley led him to the reception, where a box sat, filled with coins and notes.
As she began to walk away, she paused, turning back towards Dave. ‘By the way, my full name is Shirley McAuntRenTina. Most
‘This is your third challenge,’ Shirley stated to Dave clearly,
people call me Aunt Tina.’
‘donate all the money you won to the hospital.’ Dave’s eyes widened.
She left Dave to live the rest of his life out as a frail old man: one without his strength, without his smarts, and eventually without
‘What? No way! I earned that money fair and square. How is
his arrogance.
this related to proving that I’m great?’ he asked, backing away
Justina So
hastily from the reception desk.
Year 7 ‘Being great isn’t all about muscles and brains’ sighed Shirley as
22
Y E AR 7
Bella Stefanou - Year 8 Gouache on paper
YE AR 8
23
Poetry Compilation
Two worlds
Flinders
The sturdy timber along the sunset
It stands still and sturdy
the waves keeping my pattern a duet.
people rushing into alleys
The sun hiding behind the clouds,
standing alone and forever ancient
the gold lining bursting proud
the love and appreciation absent
the feeling contained in my coronet.
for this is the place for journeys to start. Just for the day or to light a forever spark
The wind whistling in my ears, chilling them with its kiss.
it watches us grow to be who we are
The icy fingers of the water reaching up to miss
but it just stands there, watching from afar.
the horizon cuts my world in two
Rachel Crawford
where the amber meets its blue. My world in another’s abyss.
Year 8
Red Heart The red sand, staining the souls of my shoes and the rhythm of my heart. The blue sky peaking at my journey, not spoiling it but just tasting it to see if it should watch watch me struggle, fight, cry, shout and scream watch me smile, laugh, run, jump, feel and dance watch me feel how it hurts for my heart to shatter, for my soul to sing with the wind and how my spirit can fly free from the problems of the world.
24
Y E AR 8
Joy
Belong
Her feet hit the ground with a thud
As she reached the top, her heart soared with pride. She had shown him; she had
And her body keeps moving.
proved him wrong once again. He always told her she couldn’t do it, but here she
Her heart pulsing to the beat
was; standing at the top of the mountain looking down at the miniature town that
Her blood moving through her body
lay below her. Elated and delighted, a flock of birds interrupted her thoughts as
like lightening.
they flew up in a flurry of squawks as if escaping danger. This puzzled her, as she
Her wet hair, slapping the back of her
tried to find an explanation for such a dramatic and unexplained uproar. Who was
neck
down there... what was down there?
As she prances around her room. Her sisters yell
Willow had always loved hiking, right from the day she had first set foot at the
“Turn it down!”
base of a mountain. Her Uncle had always tried to stop her; ‘It’s too dangerous, the
“Who’s playing ABBA at 2am?”
mountains are a wild, wet and unforgiving place,’ he would say. Despite his protests,
She doesn’t care
she continued to hike every afternoon. Willow had lived with her uncle Joe for as
Her smile’s too large.
long as she could remember; her parents and older brother had died in a car crash
The song stops abruptly
when she was younger and being her only other relative, she went to live with him.
As she pauses, she steadies. Her heart beats slower,
It was five past seven when she returned from her hike - this was much later than
Her breathing gets heavier,
usual so Uncle Joe was a little annoyed.
Another song comes on It’s one of her favourites.
‘Where have you been!?’ he yelled, ‘I thought you had gotten lost!’
She has lots of favourites. She smiles an exhausted smile
Even though she had lived with him for fifteen years, she still found his gruff manner
And begins dancing again.
difficult and at times frustrating to deal with. She knew his intentions were to care
In that moment,
and provide for her in the absence of her parents, but she did not feel close to him.
As she flings herself around her room
He was at times uncommunicative and secretive. Willow always had the feeling
All she feels, is pure and utter
he was hiding something. She held her head down and noticed his hiking boots
Joy.
splattered with mud by the door – odd, given that uncle Joe had intended to stay home as their neighbour was due to come over that afternoon.
Charlotte Fels Year 8
Screech! The next day, the dreaded sound of the chalk running down the blackboard that sent shivers down her spine, finally stopped. This marked the end of yet another terrible math lesson. The bell had rung and Willow began packing her bag, when her classmate Annie walked past. ‘You poor thing, up in the mountains and covered in mud all the time. I suppose you
YE AR 8
25
Belong
get it from your weird uncle, always walking alone in the valley talking to trees!’ Annie laughed. ‘Bye Willow.’ ‘Bye,’ Willow muttered under her breath. What had Annie said? Uncle Joe? Walking, in the valley? He hated that place, always telling her to come home and stay away. As she walked home, Willow thought about her uncle and what Annie had said. Why hadn’t he told her about his walks? She thought about this for a while, kicking a stone down the trail in front of her. Willow had also sensed that her uncle resented her talking about her family, always shutting the conversation down with: ‘It’s getting late,’ or ‘don’t you have homework to do?’ He hated the subject and always turned his head at the sight of Willow’s locket and pictures of her family. The next afternoon, Willow was out on her usual late afternoon hike. It was a beautiful afternoon, there was a light breeze but not much wind and the air was warm. As she gazed down into the valley, she couldn’t help but remember how those birds had flown up, startled, on her previous hike. She wanted to know what was down there. Willow began the descent. She trudged through the thick bush, scratching herself with every step, until she came to a narrow path. She crouched down to look at the fresh boot prints made earlier that day. Quite large, she thought. It was getting dark by now and Willow knew her Uncle would be fuming by this point. Then she saw it. Just a dark outline at first but as she approached, the peak of the building became more visible in the fading light. A cabin. Willow had so many questions, but she knew she didn’t have much time. She carefully made her way around the side of the small building. She had to see what was inside! There was a small window at the back of the building. She climbed up to look in, but all was in darkness. By now the sun had set and there was no light left. Willow trudged back – deflated at having had no resolution but excited by her find. Willow opened the door to see her Uncle’s furious face. ‘What do you think you are doing coming home at nine o’clock?’ ‘What are you hiding from me?’ Willow yelled in reply, before running upstairs and slamming her bedroom door. The next evening, Willow found herself walking along the narrow winding path leading to the cabin she had discovered the night before. They walked in silence – Willow and Joe - one behind the other in the fresh morning air. Joe’s old rusted key unlocked the door and they entered the small sundrenched room. Images of Willow’s family hung along the walls, her father’s book, her mother’s locket and her brother’s colouring book carefully placed at the end of the room. It was a different environment, so different from anything she had ever seen before. And then she knew - her Uncle, the gruff, rude Uncle who had never even wanted to look at a photo of her family, had created all this.
26
Y E AR 8
Belong
The Medal Thief
Both stood in silence for a while until
As Mary leans over the bed, she lays
“They are medals from the Great
Willow finally spoke.
out the war medals of her husband and
War,” Mary said. “They belong to your
strokes them, smiling as she does so.
Grandfather. You are not to touch them.”
‘Why?’ cried Willow as she fell to her knees.
“Oh Arthur,” she whispers, “Aiden and Sophie are coming today, you would
She frets as she gently places the
‘When your family died there was
have loved to play with them if you were
medals on the windowsill.
nothing I could do about it, except
still with us.” “Can we bake cookies for afternoon tea
look after you. So, I did what I could. Your mother and I were very close.
She hears the doorbell and goes to
We created this cabin putting all our
answer it.
Grandma?” Sophie asks. “Yay cookies! Can I help, Grandma?”
thoughts and secrets into it. However, when she died, I locked it up and left
“Grandma!” Sophie and Aiden exclaim
it, until I could deal with it. When you
in unison, wrapping their little arms
started hiking and getting back late
around the old woman.
squeals Aiden. Mary picks the young boy up into her arms and looks at the children, smiling
I decided it was time, so every night I went to this cabin and just sat here,
Clarissa hands the children their bags
thinking of a time to share this with
before they run inside.
warmly. “Of course, we can.”
you.’ “Thanks again mum,” she says, “I’ve got The cabin was drenched in silence, but
an early meeting today, so I have to rush
The three of them walk into the kitchen
Willow’s heart was racing, her head
off, but I’ll pick the two little monkeys up
holding hands and smiling. Before long,
spinning, full of mismatched thoughts.
at six”.
the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the house.
But then she understood, everything made sense. Her hiking had brought
Clarissa waves as she climbs back into
her to those she loved and those who
the car and drives off.
~ Two Hours Later ~
Mary closes the door and walks back
While Sophie and Mary are cleaning the
into her room to find Sophie and Aiden
kitchen, Aiden puts on some over-sized
sitting on the bed.
high-heels and gives Sophie a hat from
loved her.
Jemima Wilson Year 8
Mary’s bedroom. The children parade “Grandma, what are those, they look
around the living room as if they are
so cool!” Sophie asks, pointing at the
models on the red carpet. “Oh, Sophie
medals.
dear, that’s my good hat, I might need
YE AR 8
27
The Medal Thief
to put it back in my bedroom,” Mary says and she takes the hat and puts it back on the hook behind the door in her bedroom. “The children remind me so much of you Arthur,” she whispers to herself. “They’re mischievous and...” She pauses, noticing that the medals have vanished from the windowsill. “Sophie, have you been playing with Grandpa’s medals? I told you not to touch them...” “Grandma,” Sophie says quietly from the doorway, “I haven’t touched Grandpa’s medals.” “Well then, where have they gone?” Mary asks, sighing. “I don’t know, but I was baking cookies with you so I can’t have taken them. Remember?” Sophie asks. “Well the only other person it could have been then was Aiden. I hope that he hasn’t taken them into the garden,” Mary murmurs. “Aiden darling, can you come here for a moment?” Aiden skips into the bedroom. “Have you moved grandpa’s war medals? I don’t mind if you have, I just would like them back, they’re very special to me.” “No, I have not seen them Grandma,” Aiden said. “No one else could have taken them, so it must have been you. Can you please just tell me where they are? Have you taken them into the garden?” Aiden shrugs and stands and looks blankly at Mary. Mary frantically looks around the house. She starts looking in the bedroom but cannot find them. She rushes outside and tears through every bush and tree to no avail. Mary begins to panic and searches the kitchen, bedroom and all around the house. “Arthur, I’ve lost you, but I cannot lose your medals too,” she whimpers as she begins to cry. Mary slumps into an armchair and silver tears roll down her face as Clarissa gingerly comes through the front door.
28
Y E AR 8
The Medal Thief
“Oh mum, you look terrible, what on earth has happened?” She asks. “Are the children okay?” “I’ve lost Arthur’s medals,” she sobs. “I think Aiden has taken them and hidden them. I’ve looked everywhere.” Clarissa sits beside Mary and comforts her. “Why don’t I help you find them?” she says. Together, Mary and Clarissa search the house again, but still no success. “Aiden, have you been playing with the medals?” asks Clarissa, her temper rising. “They are very important to Grandma you know.” Aiden looks down at the ground and starts crying. “It wasn’t me, I promise.” “Aiden, just tell the truth. I won’t be angry if you are honest with us,” pleads Clarissa. Aiden says nothing. “No TV for the rest of week for lying,” shouts Clarissa furiously. Clarissa takes the children, apologizes to Mary and leaves without another word, bundling Sophie and Aiden into the car. Mary shuffles onto the verandah, and collapses into the wooden rocking chair. “I’m sorry, Arthur” she sighs, and slowly rocks backwards and forwards, wiping the tears from her eyes. As she finally composes herself, her eyes notice a shimmer of silver light coming from a tree. She walks to the tree to investigate. As she looks up at the tree, she sees the fabric of the medals hanging from the edge of a bird’s nest. She reaches up and grasps the medals just as a magpie swoops angrily from above. “Oh Aiden, Sophie. It wasn’t you after all. I am sorry that I jumped to conclusions,” Mary says guiltily. ~ THE END ~
Sarah Watson Year 8
YE AR 8
29
Kristen Goh - Year 9 Paper mache
30
Y E AR 9
Father
We were woken up by the shouts of people outside. First
stopped and were forced off the train. I couldn’t yet tell if it
confused, I opened the door to see what was causing the
was a blessing to be free from the trains or if we were only
commotion to find hundreds of Jews being ushered down
being led to our deaths. I quickly learned it would be the
the street by uniformed men holding guns. I slammed the
latter.
door shut with shaking hands and ran to wake my wife and three children. I silenced their questions hastily and got us
I held out my arms and kept my three children contained
all huddled in my wife’s cupboard. I knew we had a slim
within them in a hopeless attempt to shield them from
chance of remaining unfound but asserted that it was worth
harm. Gunshots, people falling to the ground. I knew the
the attempt. I soon learned that it was a hopeless effort. The
sight would be ingrained in my memory forever, but I did
noise outside was growing louder and the sound of gunshots
everything I could to prevent this from afflicting my children.
and shouting soon joined in, leaving our ears ringing. But
I knew that I couldn’t shield their bodies from being torn
even the sound of reverberating gunshots could not prepare
asunder, but I could shield their minds from harm. As their
me for the gut wrenching splintering of wood as the front
father, I saw it as my duty. After all, when the fate of your
door was wrenched from its hinges.
children is ripped away from you so abruptly after spending your life giving them the best chance of succeeding as
It hit the floor and my youngest daughter gasped. I
possible, you resort to desperate measures, such as forming
immediately covered her mouth with a sweaty palm and held
an invisible bubble with your hands, even if you know it’s
my own breath. Each footstep the soldiers took I could feel
pointless.
my lungs straining to breaking point. We were marched into what looked like a campsite, spat at, I exhaled and the door of the cupboard was flung open and
yelled at, threatened and thrown around until we were led to
we were standing face to face with Nazi brutes.
our sleeping area. Barely even a shed. After such a long and traumatising day of unknowns, however, I was relieved to stay
Infuriated that we had tried to hide, they grabbed us by our
in one place, even in the middle of a Nazi camp.
necks and tossed us out into the street, in amongst the throng of people as if they were casting out filth from their homes.
Unfortunately, the relief did not last long.
The emotional pain of being treated as if we were inhumane outweighed the physical pain of being partially strangled
In the morning, as we were being forced to work, a Nazi
by the Nazi’s grasp. We were lucky to remain together as a
walked up to my family. He grabbed me roughly by the
family as we were forced onto carriages and sent away from
shoulder, told another soldier that he would, ‘take care of us’
everything we had ever known.
and led us away to a clump of trees next to a fence line. My body shook. I knew exactly what ‘take care of us’ meant in
After what felt like months of being crammed onto
times of war. I had to resist the urge to tackle the man, giving
overcrowded, anxiety-inducing compartments, we finally
my family a chance to flee, as I knew that they would be shot
YE AR 9
31
Father
Whatever Happened to Shylock?
instantly. Every footstep I took felt unnatural, as if I shouldn’t
It has been nearly a year since Jessica left Shylock. She
be leading myself to my death. I tried to console my children
has borne a child to Lorenzo, but has found that those she
by encircling them within my arms and telling them that it
thought of as friends, including her husband, secretly hold
would be okay, but the guilt of lying to them was enveloping
her child in contempt due to her Jewish heritage. In the cover
me and I couldn’t do it any longer. So we walked in silence for
of darkness, she has fled, and is now seeking help from her
the most part, the only sounds were gunshots from behind us
father.
back at the camp and the snuffles of my children as they tried to contain their tears. I felt as though I had failed them. I had
*Jessica knocks*
one job from the day they were born; to keep them safe and I felt a failure knowing that I could no longer do this. I had
Shylock (shouting): Who dares disturb my solitude?
surrendered to my fate by the time we had reached the trees, accepting that this was the end and praying that I would be
Jessica: ‘Tis I, father, the daughter thou had lost.
with my family after we had passed. I almost collapsed when I heard what the soldier said next.
Shylock: Why must thou torment me, a childless man?
“I want to set you free.”
Be gone!
I wept openly, such was the relief that took me. He went on
Jessica: You say you have no daughter, yet I hold
to explain that he had three children of his own of the same
here in my arms thy grandchild, thy own flesh.
age and he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them die any
My only wish be that thou see her smile.
more than mine. He had lead us to an opening in the fence,
I beg thy sight, before the time has passed
and gave us directions to different places we could hide. I
and thy light shines no longer in this world.
could not explain the overwhelming gratitude I felt for this
If my husband did know of where I stand
nameless soldier. As we were running from the camp, he fired
never again would a chance befall thee
five gunshots into the air. I turned back to look at him; a grim
to witness such bright and wholesome beauty.
wink was all I was given before we parted ways.
I beg, open thy door to such a gift.
Abbey Jacobs Year 9
Shylock: I shan’t judge a child for its mother’s sins. Let me hold this miracle in my arms. (Jessica enters, and hands the child to Shylock.)
32
Y E AR 9
Whatever Happened to Shylock?
Shylock: She bears her mother’s beauty, yet I pray
Shylock: You wish me to forget how you joined them,
A sharp and ready mind, and stronger heart.
joined my tormentors and laughed as I suffered. Where was the mercy? Where was the justice?
Jessica: No heart is stronger than one forgiving.
I used to think like you, my foolish child.
Father, they sneer and snipe without relent.
I too believed that the world would grant justice.
Mine own husband, indeed, her own father
But the only justice in this world is
can barely stand to gaze upon her eyes.
what we carve ourselves, from flesh and blood.
She has a Christian heart, but Jewish blood Jessica: I shall not carve like an animal.
and for such a sin they curse me, father.
Farewell, father. May justice come to both of us in time.
Shylock: Jewish blood! Such sin is no sin at all. They shan’t love you when you bleed thyself dry.
*Jessica exits*
Thy foolishness warrants scorn, not pity. Go on, girl. What dost thou demand of me?
Although rejected by her father, Jessica returns victorious. Jessica: Only for what was once willingly given;
Her journey to Venice escaped the notice of her husband and
A home without hatred, for mine own child.
she is now again in Belmont. She wraps a small vial in cloth
Would that not be justice?
before discarding it by dropping it from the window. She expects unexpected news.
Shylock: Dare thou stand to me and speak of justice? Thou sustained those who would have destroyed me
*Lorenzo enters*
while you robbed me of dignity and wealth. I shan’t allow you the satisfaction
Lorenzo: Jessica, my love! The sun sets and
of duping thy aging, haggard father.
leaves in its wake the sweetest news of gold,
No! Thou shall have nothing, as I had nothing.
more real than its rays.
Then and only then shall we see justice.
Death hadst befallen the Jewish tyrant.
Jessica: I possess neither dignity nor wealth.
Jessica: Lorenzo, hush, you’ll wake our sleeping child.
I beseech thee, please save me and my child.
But wake she may to such wondrous news!
YE AR 9
33
Shylock’s Redemption
Lorenzo: I ought to tell Antonio by eve.
It was a Sunday. One month after Shylock
It was bad enough that his own flesh had
We will toast to the bastard’s death!
lost everything. That day, the Venetian
betrayed him, but the loss of his dearest
It truly is a magnificent day –
sky was a vibrant blue, not a cloud in
friend, Tubal, had struck him the hardest.
Let us celebrate the birth of our child
the sky and the burnished sun blazed
and the death of thy abhorrent father.
down brilliantly. It was a glorious day to
That afternoon, Shylock was moping
be in God’s presence, but as Shylock sat
around a grubby, tiny room. His new
Jessica: I shall venture to Venice to
furthest from the altar, it was clear that
home. Stripped of his wealth and no
receive the estate and buy finery for
his day could not be a more dull grey.
longer working as a usurer, he had sold his house and was living off his remaining
such a banquet. Lorenzo: There must be some justice in
“Amen,” he rasped, a permanent scowl
ducats. If God was to take him now, what
smeared across his aged face.
difference would it make? No one would cry over him.
the world that we receive this wealth on such a happy day.
He stood up and proceeded to exit the church with haste. Oh how he despised
“Fie! Fie! Certainly I must live a long
*exits, leaving Jessica alone with child
his fellow Christians! He hated himself for
life; I will break before giving the cursed
in her arms*
the cross about his neck, perhaps even
Lorenzo the ducats bound to him. I
more so than the vile Antonio.
must not leave this world before making a mockery of those who left me with
Jessica: A happy day, to be sure. “Pah, never,” he murmured, chiding
nothing. I will have my justice.” He spat.
himself as these familiar thoughts played
But know this, darling daughter:
But how best to mock them? “I will do
across his mind.
something forbidden of me. The villainy
the only justice in this world is what we make ourselves.
At that moment, he realised that the
must depart from me; I shall worship in
Jews would be leaving the Synagogue.
secret and redeem my name.”
Livia Tropea
How he longed to be among them. The
Year 9
persecution the Jews suffered from the
Mirth spilled from his lips as he dreamt of
Christians was always bearable when the
his redemption.
faith held him true, but now he had no
34
choice but to be Christian and live a lie.
The next day, Shylock sought out his
Shylock was now the evil that used to fuel
oldest friend. If he was caught, what
his hatred. The last few weeks had left
would it matter? He had nothing left to
him in constant despair; he had nothing
lose. He edged down the back alleys
to live for. Constantly alone. He did not
of Venice towards the synagogue and
belong with the Christians nor the Jews.
eventually found Tubal by himself.
Y E AR 9
Shylock’s Redemption
“May I speak with you, old friend?”
in me is a curse. I beg you – help me
with forced gentility, although the smile
again regain my faith,” Shylock pleaded.
was genuine. His faith was true and he felt proud to be spitting on them by
Tubal glanced up from the Torah he had been poring over. Happiness danced
“The bond forbids it. If you are caught…”
forfeiting his bond.
“In secret we can practise, no one shall
“Shylock,” Antonio acknowledged curtly.
across his face, but just as quickly it fell to worry.
know! I can’t continue to live like this.” “What has you in such a merry manner?”
“What are you doing here? You shall be undone if seen speaking with me.” Tubal
Shylock felt the desperation catch in his
Bassanio queried, for it had been some
hissed desperately.
throat. Tubal bit at his lip and glanced
time since either of them had seen
about him, but Shylock could see his
Shylock smile.
“What have I to lose, old friend?” Tears
earnest desire to help his old friend. “Why, Phoebus’ fire burns on, the sky is
of joy brimmed in Shylock’s eyes as Tubal clasped him by the arms. “Come, let us
“Wednesday coming, meet me at noon
blue and I am a good Christian.” He said
speak in private.”
by the street where I live. I will lend you a
with glee.
Torah and kippah.” “It is good to hear you have come to
“What has become of you?” Tubal “Oh, good Tubal, I thank thee!”
reason,” Bassanio said.
Tubal smiled heartily and bowed his
“Good day to you, Shylock,” Antonio
“I am poor in wealth, without occupation
head before ushering himself out the
said with finality, hatred evidently still
and as you will have heard, I am baptised.
door. Shylock felt all of his resentment
flickering in his eyes.
Oh how I wish to be in the synagogue
and fears washing away with a sense of
once more.”
fulfilment. His heart was lighter with the
When Sunday rolled around once again,
thought of returning to himself.
Shylock was at church, upholding his
asked, after being ushered into Shylock’s cramped abode.
façade. He hated the fact that he was
“Nevertheless I am glad to see you That Wednesday, the two friends met
there, but looked forward to afterwards,
as planned, and Shylock beamed to be
when he would meet with Tubal once
practising his heritage with his closest
again to recite scripture. As soon as
friend once again. Yet as Shylock started
church finished, Shylock moved for the
“But I must reiterate the great risk
to head for home, he came across
exit before abruptly coming to a halt.
against you. If anyone knew I was here…”
Antonio and Bassanio in the street.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose up,
“Fie! It is worth the risk. The Christianity
“Good day my lords,” Shylock said
again,” Tubal asserted firmly. “And I you,” Shylock beamed in return.
as though someone was watching him.
YE AR 9
He peered over his shoulder and made
35
Shylock’s Redemption
The Soldier’s Illusion
unmistakable eye contact with Antonio,
“Stop it!” Shylock cried, stepping
Shirts buttoned and kisses shared.
whose eyes bore into his soul. Shylock
between them. “Leave good Tubal
Smiles growing and shoes paired.
knew he had been standing there for only
alone!”
The day for honest sacrifice;
seconds and yet they felt as though they
The moment for men to roll the dice.
had been gazing at each other for an
“What have you done, conversing with
Fear and excitement, now in fusion.
age. Shylock remember his appointment
this dog? “ Antonio hissed,” “You are
The once scared man, the soldier’s
abruptly, and darted away, escaping
Christian. He is everything we are not.”
illusion.
“Fie, we are the same.”
Shirts worn down and kisses forgotten.
Antonio’s glare and scurrying away down the back alleys and streets in an effort to lose him. Tubal was waiting at the corner of the
Lips closed shut and shoes rotten. “Shylock, stop!” Tubal begged, his tears
The day for “honest sacrifice”;
falling to stir the dust at their feet.
The moment for lost souls to pay the
street where they were to meet. Shylock
price.
made a last effort to glance about him,
“Faith does not differentiate us,” Shylock
Fear and excitement, now sudden
confirming that Antonio was nowhere
went on defiantly, “We are no different.
confusion.
to be seen. He strode forward, relieved,
You are no superior to Tubal. We both
The now scared man, the soldier’s
making contact with Tubal and greeting
bleed red, both eat, laugh, cry, celebrate
illusion.
him with a hearty embrace. As they
and die. I will not stand for this injustice.
pulled apart, his stomach churned, as
For I, in truth, a Jew, am proud of it!”
Tubal’s face fell from delight, to fear.
Shirts blood red and kisses dissembling. Mouth agape and shoes trembling.
“Solanio, run and procure help. He is one
The day for wasteful sacrifice;
He turned around to see Antonio,
of them and forfeits his bond.” Antonio
The moment for the hopeless boy’s
Salarino and Solanio mere steps away.
murmured, his voice icy.
coping device.
Antonio ignored Shylock’s presence and
Torment and death, the only conclusion.
strode forward to spit on Tubal.
“Shylock, deny it!” Tubal pleaded.
“Dog, Jew!” he cursed.
“I will not, old friend, I am who I am, and
The forever scarred man, the soldier’s illusion.
they cannot change this anymore. Tell Salarino ripped the two men apart
them what I have done. Speak my truth.
and tore the kippah from Tubal’s head,
Go dear friend, show pride for who you
stamped on it and then cast him to the
are.”
ground.
Lara Sirianni “Faithless Jew, what filth lies at our feet!”
36
Year 9
Y E AR 9
Ashleigh O’Donnell Year 9
Emma Puglia - Year 10 Oil on Canvas
YE AR 10
37
Rest, at Last
How intriguing it is
we shall revert to the elements themselves
that eventually,
as our atoms become the molecules
time must hand the reigns to entropy
now tumbling within
and order must resign
the bloodstream of the universe.
but time is said to heal;
Time would say
that with its gentle touch
that at our ends
the careful caress of gravity
chaos will have run its course
it lays thought to rest.
rendering us disordered:
time disperses our molecules:
brimming with a sparking sea of sentience
our ephemeral envoys
yet we shall die in resolute acceptance.
far and wide, throughout our veins to meander slowly back to an equilibrium:
and, as if our pulse determines the tick of the clock
a sanguine symmetry
time slows
the baseline of life.
and chaos begins to slumber.
How‌ rudimentary.
all is well.
Olivia Johnson
Yet perhaps it is necessary; perhaps, in preparation
Year 10
for when the embers are quelled at last and our heartbeat flickers to a stop. then, may we rest at last may we soar amongst the seas again amongst the auroric currents of the universe as a trillion molecular moments
38
Y E AR 10
Awake Adapted from Mary Pearson’s The Adoration of Jenna Fox
Cold. All I can feel is the cold. My limp
is seeping through my veins. Like
She whispers, her eyes are locked to
hands bear icy fingertips, my legs are
refuelling a machine. Except this
the ground. I let out a shallow breath
numb and swollen. I peel open my
fuel is barely keeping the machine
letting her know she has my attention.
eyelids and a sliver of golden light slips
functioning; instead, it’s letting the
I’m too tired to speak.
through the curtains, illuminating the
battery die out more slowly. Just
room with a warm glow. What I see is
yesterday Ethan and Jenna were here
“Your father and I have been thinking
far from what I feel. Bound to a bed
and there was nothing they could do,
about what you told us earlier. About
by my own sullen body, one that was
nothing I could do. I almost feel bad
Jenna and her father, what he was able
mine just weeks earlier. I want to get
for them. Having to watch me decay
to do for her.”
up and make my own food and wash
so pathetically. Could this possibly be
my own body using my own hands.
better than Jenna’s plastic skin and
I feel my breaths deepen. I feel more
But the thought of food makes my
gelatinous innards? Her programmed
awake now. I become aware of my
stomach churn and the feeling of hot
memories and hard-wired emotions?
heartbeat pumping painfully in my
water against my withered skin makes
At least I know I will be dying the way I
chest.
me wince. I turn to my side, letting slip
was born, a living breathing human. “And we know it’s not what you want,
a ragged breath that shudders within my ribs. Every limb weighs a hundred
The sudden entrance of my mother
it’s not necessarily our ideal solution
pounds, shackling me to the bed I so
jolts my bed frame, a painful movement
either, but…”
desperately want to escape. I am left
that makes my body ache. Her eyes
with no choice but to watch the dust
are sullen and glazed, her cheekbones
“No.” I say, surprised by how loud and
float above my face. How long will I
hollowed. Is this how I look? How
clear I’ve become.
be here alone? That’s not up to me. I
can I possibly be so pitiful that I have
wonder if this is how Jenna felt. Like
turned my own mother into death
She looks at me for the first time and I
her body wasn’t hers. At least mine’s
itself? She sits at the base of the bed,
see something different in her face. It’s
real, in all its glory. I hear footsteps
uncomfortably balancing on the edge
a look I’ve never seen before, a look
tapping down the hallway and shut
as to not touch or move me. She stares
of desperation. Something that begs
my eyes, wondering if I’ll have enough
at the ground nervously fidgeting with
me with every inch of her being to just
strength to open them again.
her sleeves. I’ve never seen my mother
listen. To just agree. I don’t realise it,
in such a state, one that makes her
but I’ve sat upright, something I haven’t
seem so out of control.
been able to do in days. Shapes and
I awaken once again, never
colours start to cloud my vision and I
remembering falling asleep. My body feels lighter, less grounded. I
“Allys,” her voice trembles. “I think we
slump back into my pillow. I want to
shift myself to see my drip has been
should discuss alternative treatments.”
fight, but my body is disconnected. I want to run, but my limbs are numb.
replaced. Today’s food and water
YE AR 10
39
God, the Devil and Death
I want to cry but I need all my energy
I stare at them, quickly morphing my
“Stop coaxing the human. She must act
just to breathe. All this would be fixed
face into one of shock. To be clear, I am
naturally.” God scolds the Devil.
if I just agree with mother. But so
most certainly not shocked. Far from it
many people have died and suffered
actually. Before me stood two figures, I
“My name’s Than. And honestly?” I
at the hands of doctors who abuse
cannot adequately describe them. The
shrug. “I am a little scared. If there was
their power. I know this. I’ve fought
only distinguishable thing is that one is
something to throw, I might throw it.
for this. I want to know I know this,
of light, the other darkness. They were
Maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. This isn’t
but I get the feeling I don’t. I feel a
much the same, yet vastly different. I
exactly a normal situation… I think.”
tingling sensation rushing through my
cannot tell you what height they are,
exhausted body. Maybe I give up just
what tongue they speak, their race, or
to make her leave. Or maybe I know
their age. But I believe the one made of
deep down that my ethics are flawed
light is sometimes called God, the one
“Um, who are you? And what are you
and I’m just as selfish as Jenna and her
of darkness, the Devil.
doing here?”
harsh sigh; I really do want to live. I feel
The darkness is more familiar. In the
“I am… well, I have many names, but my
my mother stand and walk out of the
last few centuries, all humankind has
most common is God.”
room gently closing the door. My mind
known is darkness. Light was a rare thing
slips into blackness. I feel like I’m falling
indeed.
The Devil scowls, God frowns.
family. I close my eyes and release a
“I am the Devil. Call me what you wish,” I nod hesitantly, maintaining the
into an endless abyss and I don’t want to wake up.
“Hello,” greets God. The Devil merely
pretence that this is the first time I have
stares at me, stony faced. I sigh inwardly
met them. The reality is far from it. I
I feel my chest rise and fall effortlessly.
– I hate lying, concealing my true intent
have met them many times, escorting
I smell cleaning solution. I hear ringing
towards anyone. I already do so much
the dead. I am somewhat surprised they
in my ears and see glossy linoleum
wrong.
do not recognise me – this form is not all that different. “As for the reason of our
ceilings. Allys. This is the first and only word I can think of. Who is that? I don’t
“Um… Hi?” I squeak putting a note of
being here? Why that is simple. We are
care. I feel good, better. I don’t know
fear in my voice.
here for you.”
should. I should sleep. I feel tired. I
“You must be frightened,” said the
It took all my strength not to laugh.
don’t think I’m used to being awake.
Devil, maintaining a frigid expression
Them here for me? That is quite absurd.
what I feel better than, but I know I
on his face “Do you perhaps want to
Emma Puglia Year 10
lash out? Hit something? Throw a rock
Instead of laughing, I allow a look of
at us?”
panic to flash my face. God tuts at the Devil, shaking his head. “There is no
40
Y E AR 10
God, the Devil and Death
need to be frightened,” He hurries to reassure me, “We judge
“Who are you?” the Devil puzzles.
mortal souls, where they should go when the move on from this plain of existence. The only reason we are here for you to
“You know what, and who I am.” I chuckle, straightening as I let
see, is that you are neither good nor bad. You are neutral.”
my human mask fade away. My hair turns as white as polished bone and smooth as silk, my clothing melts from sparse rags
I furrow my brow. “What does that mean?” I know perfectly
into a dark, sweeping cloak that touches the ground, and I
well what that means.
grow to match the deities’ size; my celestial form solidifies. The appearance I don is typically associated with the form called
“What it means, human,” the Devil grumbles, “Is that you
‘the Grim Reaper’.
belong in neither Heaven nor Hell. We’re here to determine where you should go.”
“I am Death.”
I force a smirk down. “Have you decided yet? Where I shall
“Then why are you here?” the Devil queries. “Yes, why?” God
go?” I query, not having to fake curiosity.
reinforces.
God looks down (dare I say, sheepish?), and sighs out a small
“Because, there is no one left – no one but us,” I reply in a
no. The Devil nods agreement. I could not help but feel the
pained voice. I dread what I must do next. “Your services are
slightest bit proud. To be the first to belong in neither Heaven
no longer needed, there is nobody to provide them to.”
nor Hell? That was quite an accomplishment. This entire situation is just too ridiculous. I have taken so many lives, I
“What do you mean?” God prompts, mirroring the earlier
deserve to be in Hell after all I have done.
conversation. The Devil glares angrily. He knows exactly what I mean.
Hearing my laughter, God looks at me confused, and the Devil grows angry. “YOU DARE LAUGH AT US? AT ME? YOU HAVE
“You have lived for millennia, you have seen civilisations rise,
NOT THE RIGHT! I SHOULD STRIKE YOU DOWN WHERE
and fall. It is time for you to die.”
YOU STAND!” That he does, sending forth a spiral of darkness, despite God’s shout of “No! We know not where she belongs!”
God’s eyes widen in shock. The Devil shakes his head stubbornly. “We are immortal. We cannot die.”
I let the darkness come. I know it would not, could not, harm me. When it does finally reach me, God flinches and looks
I smile wistfully. They are ignorant to the inner workings of
away, as the Devil glowers. When they see the darkness has
life and death, despite claiming omniscience. I long for that
not harmed me, they recoil in shock. “What are you?” God
ignorance. “Nothing is truly immortal.” I say gently.
breathes out, in both fear and awe.
YE AR 10
41
God, the Devil and Death
God looks down in sorrow and, is that, shame? Both He and
I incline my head with a frown. “I do not know,” I reply
the Devil have lived a thousand lifetimes. They do not need any
honestly, “I can see everyone’s end. Everyone’s but mine.” I
longer.
smile bitterly.
“No. I will not die. I refuse!” The Devil scoffs as if he has a
A moment passes. Then God approaches me. “Earlier, when
choice.
we knew you not, you said that you were scared. I see now that that was the only lie you did not speak.”
“I’m sorry.” I whisper, reaching for him. He steps back. What God says is true. I am scared. I am terrified. “Do not come near me!” “I, too, am scared,” God continues with a smile. “I do not deny The Devil is scared. I hate fear. Thankfully, humans mostly
that. I must be brave. As must you be.”
stopped fearing me. They tended to greet me with familiarity, having seen me with many of their friends and family.
And with that He took my hand, and He is gone.
I take a step towards the Devil. “Do you really think I find any
The Devil looks where God had stood. He looks how I imagine I
joy in taking your life? I hate it. I really do. When you and God
looked when I took Life. Once he lost his other half, he wanted
are no more, I shall be alone.” My voice wavers.
to die. Unlike me, he has the option. I hold out my hand, wanting to give him something I could not have, though so
“But what of Life? Surely you will have him.” God asks
desperately wanted.
tentatively. The Devil looks down at my hand, and then up at me. He “Life is gone. And when you are gone, I shall be alone.
reaches out, stopping short. He almost looks confused. His
Wandering these ruins with no one but myself for company.
hesitation barely lasted a second before he takes my hand.
Forever.” The thought torments me. The thought of my twin, Life, pained me. I remember taking Life’s existence away with
And I am alone.
the upmost clarity.
Gabriella McInerney Year 10
“You said that no one is truly immortal,” The Devil states accusingly. “That must include yourself?”
42
Y E AR 10
Scene analysis: ‘The Supermarket Tantrum,’ The Black Balloon
With an abrupt cut into the scene marked by the ‘beeps’ of cash registers, Charlie is shown obsessing over various items placed on a conveyor belt. As Simon waits to pay for their groceries, he discovers that without Maggie fussing over him and the boys, he is short of the $128.25 total. While he recovers from his mistake, Thomas unhelpfully reminds Simon that ‘mum said you’d balls this up’ before continuing to read his Dolly magazine, not offering a hand. Charlie’s obvious distress grows from a ‘no’ to a tantrum over the items being returned, drawing attention from all the other ‘nice people’ in the supermarket; none of whom offer the Mollison family help. The inconsiderate and unhelpful nature of both shoppers and staff on display as they watch on, calling ‘security to checkout 2’ while Thomas begs him to stand up. As Simon hauls Charlie out of the supermarket, and the last moments of shock passes, the customers slowly continue with their tasks. This scene surrounds the Mollison with the judgement of onlookers around them and confirms their pre-existing knowledge that they are unwelcome by the public and will not be assisted. The true burden of caring for Charlie is highlighted through use of sound, camera work and the actions or lack-there-of from actors as director Elissa Down seeks to examine how society’s indifference and unwillingness to take on responsibility, hinders those already strained. The reality of the Mollison family’s situation is emphasised through the completely diegetic sounds used in the scene. Opening with the monotonous sounds of each item being totalled, Down depicts the family in a dry, daily event which society must go through. As Charlie becomes more and more distressed, the contrast between the ordinary grocery shop is highlighted with an abrupt stop to all audio apart from the exchange between Thomas, Simon and Charlie, the lack of sound reflecting the inaction being taken to help. This in combination with the moment of silence after Charlie has left, showing the tension between everyone in the scene, captures the shock for those who realise the reality of Charlie’s situation only after its direct presence in their lives. Even then, Down condemns society for their response to such realisation as ‘out of sight, out of mind’ as they are shown easily resuming their scanning or shopping. In contrast to the previous scene where Jackie is kind and considerate after Charlie’s outbreak, the audience is subtly reminded of the legitimate issues the Mollison and real-life families face, with people simply staring. This is done through the elimination of the previous playful soundtrack and the emphasis on the audio which viewers would be familiar with from their own shopping experiences. Especially given that initial audiences had less awareness about people living with disabilities, Down not only highlights the difficulties of being left to manage such a problem alone, but compels them to reflect on whether the criticized shoppers would be too dissimilar to their own reactions, encouraging viewers to be that helping hand in such situation and break the inconsiderate nature of society shown in The Black Balloon. Similarly, the usage of different distanced shots, and the distinct cuts between each give more detail into the unique qualities of the Mollison boys, reminding the audience that they are human too and should not be forced to handle this burden alone. Down begins this scene with a close-up of Charlie bent-over the conveyor belt meticulously aligning the groceries, his face lit with a smile showing the intense focus he can have on his own interests. This along with the next medium shot reflects his inability to see the ‘full picture’ and devastation his actions may cause, creating a sense of separation even within the family. By redirecting attention to Thomas’ Dolly Magazine, viewers are reminded that he too is a teenage boy engulfed by his own dilemmas trying to navigate this coming of age. The stark contrast between the two boys and their values is differentiated, with Down presenting each in a frame with their current focuses.
YE AR 10
43
Scene analysis: ‘The Supermarket Tantrum,’ The Black Balloon
Yet while he mocks Simon for forgetting to bring enough money,
Yet by compounding this reaction with the multiple shoppers
Charlie’s distracting movements once again takes back the focus,
around her, Down presents the bystander effect as a detrimental
and leaves Thomas to find normality in his life through reading
force which does not benefit anyone. The queues behind cash
the popular ‘Dolly Doctor’. Although the audience may have
registers lengthening and the increasing number of glances are
some general understanding of the family hardship, it seems
the only changes which the crowd is willing to make, however
everyone including Simon has forgotten the direct strain it places
the real obstacle to the exit from the store is to ‘settle down’
on Thomas’ childhood, presenting him as the right-hand man to
Charlie, a job left for Simon to slowly deal resolve. Particularly as
help with Charlie, and casting that expectation to mature and
Charlie bashes his skull against a lady’s trolley requiring her to
always put his brother first. Having jumped in as a temporary
move back, the highly reactionary method to dealing with him
single parent, Simon too has difficulties readjusting making it
presents the idea that society will always be shocked and left
more difficult for the family to work coherently. Just as Charlie
cleaning up his messes unless a change is made. The difficulty
struggles to accept the loss of his ‘specials’, the increased shakes
of such a solution already visible as we see Thomas also caught
of the camera accentuate Simon’s deviation from being a level-
up in his shame watching the scene unfold alongside with the
headed soldier, his rise in aggression noticeable, and Thomas’
shoppers, only drawn back as Simon huffs for him to ‘help [him],
growing embarrassment as the façade of a normal family is
would [he]?’. With the scene’s climax the pivotal moment when
shattered. This unstructured motion from the camera reveals a
Simon drags Charlie out by his legs, Down continues to support
breaking point to what the Mollisons can handle, confirming their
the notion which demands a unified and determined approach to
own flaws and strengthening the idea that they are only able to
making living in a community with Charlie, a more efficient one.
handle so much and require this burden to be shared. As the camera alternates between mid and close shots of each actor,
This scene stands as a crucial reminder, the reality of real
Down truly begins to strengthen the individuality of each, and
families raising their disabled children in an unwilling-to-help
highlights subtle differences in the perspectives, priorities, and
neighbourhood. By portraying the Mollison’s struggle to
thoughts of Thomas, Simon and those deemed ‘normal’.
complete an ordinary responsibility, their own separate roles and priorities interfering, Down communicates the need to adjust the
Additionally, the halt after Charlie’s exit from the grocery
mindset of dealing with these situations for the benefit of others
represents the disruption society faces when they intentionally or
in both The Black Balloon and reality. Throughout this scene
unintentionally choose not to work together. As the checkout girl
the audience is prompted to reflect on their own interactions
waits to finish off the simple transaction, she is instead faced with
with the equivalents of Charlie in their lives in order to better
helping a customer who has thrown a tantrum in front of her. Her
themselves, but also relieve the mental weight resilient families
unease immediately apparent as her hands fumbled around for
have been forced to adapt with as they mumble their ‘sorrys’ for
something productive to do, remaining unsure of how to help
inconveniencing others.
or act. As her intent is not to spread inconvenience or hate, as
Emily Kha Year 10
the Mollison’s neighbour aims to do, she is not criticized but rather featured for her inexperience in handling such situation.
44
Y E AR 10
Skye Fei - Year 11 Oil on canvas
YE AR 11
45
Poetry Inspired by the works of Emily Dickinson
Like most writers, Emily Dickinson wrote about what she knew and about what intrigued her. A keen observer, she used images from nature, religion, law, music, commerce, medicine, fashion, and domestic activities to probe universal themes: the wonders of nature, the identity of the self, death and immortality, and love. With this in mind, students wrote a collection of poems about a specific area/s of interest, with which they are familiar or with which they identify, using Dickinson’s style, including language choice, punctuation, rhythm, meter and capitalisation to create meaning. Summer
Spring
Today is a fine day,
What – honey Rays – of which We craved,
How splendid will tomorrow be –
To breathe the air She needs –
without a Gust in sight
But – hardened – buds must break to grow,
Maybe, It shall come happily.
Take Flight! Before you Leap!
Autumn
Next
Leaves droop – loosely, hanging over,
Today is a fine day – although
Eyes widen as they see,
tomorrow we shall see,
Open – open! The Great curtain
Casts linger – hidden – from before,
They – fall – so humbly –
But waltz, and become free –
Joanne Lau Year 11 Winter How our trembling – Kingdom – comes! Fallen snow – which Rule did decide – Searing – deeply – in my spine, Please, may it be all-right –
46
Y E AR 11
The Uncaging Lie Adapted from Bruce Beresford’s Paradise Road
Emily Dickinson’s poetry did not, as a
A sharp shriek soars through the placid night. My body jerks in response with all the
rule, have a title. Any titles of her poetry
other sleeping women yet none of them seem to be woken by the shock like I am.
were given by others posthumously.
I assume it simply integrated well into their recurring nightmares. As I jolt up and force my body awake, I see Susan, her eyes filled with a sea of worry as we turn to
A Gnoman’s opaque black castings
see an empty bed in the corner of the room. Someone has been attacked.
Trickling of an Hourglass Star’s pointillism in the sky
Without hesitation, we run outside, navigating our way through the camp, around
Fabricate how time does pass –
the bathroom block and towards the barbed wire fence where I suspect the scream
Days and hours but a construct Created by mankind – For measuring the diurnal Moments mundane – aligned Standardised by Nature’s cycle – Ignored by humanity As time passes similarly – Earth’s terminality –
originated. In the dark distances stands Adrienne, her whole figure shaking as she brings her already lean arms to cover her mouth. Susan and I follow her gaze towards the ground where we see a Japanese soldier struggling in the mud like a pig. As we try to comfort Adrienne a herd of other officers come running towards the fallen soldier. As I try to protect Adrienne, I feel her quick panting hitting the back of my shoulder as we observe the chaos that lies in front of us. Yet before we can completely calm Adrienne down, we are ordered back to our dorm. Walking towards out beds, I hear the aggressive footsteps of the Japanese disrupting the pervading tranquillity and the struggling scuffs which I assume to be Adrienne’s. I hope she is not made the scape-goat tonight.
In Celestial Date we trust For musings scarcely sound – Neglected are the riches gone by Pronounced by Subdued Ground –
As dawn breaks, the Snake calls upon Daisy, Susan and myself to meet with Colonel Hirota. As we follow him through the camp, a united sense of worry has spread throughout small community. There was no choir rehearsal this morning. Whilst we march up the stairs to the Colonel’s office, my heart beat drums in time
The Planet – terminally ill –
to my footsteps, almost as steady but brisk as Dvorak’s ninth symphony we were
His sore lungs – polluted –
rehearsing just earlier this week. The closer we approach the office, the quicker my
At each raspy exhalation –
heartbeat moves towards my throat. The pest of anxiety begins to infest by body,
Is He only muted –
numbing the tips of my fingers and paralysing my core as I come to the epiphany that we will be learning of Adrienne’s fate.
Scoffed is His fragility For dependent is humanity
However, when we enter the office, the atmosphere isn’t one of angst as I
on His immortality –
predicted. Colonel Hirota and Tomeo’s eyes look towards the floor in sorrow. They are as troubled by the incident we are. They have viewed Adrienne attacking back
Grace Hordern Year 11
at the solider almost as if she attacked the Colonel’s brother. As Colonel Hirota begins to speak, Tomeo’s translations fail to penetrate my tired emotions. Hirota
YE AR 11
47
The Uncaging Lie Adapted from Bruce Beresford’s Paradise Road
lectures us on good manners and behaviour while out of the
condemnation I may face from other nuns and my superiors.
corner of my eye, I see Susan shaking and become scarlet
The disgust I will face if they hear about my disobedience is
in the face. Before I can turn to console her, she erupts. She
overwhelming.
lashes out at the Japanese soldiers like they lash us with whips out in the rice fields. She tries to preach to the Colonel
‘The lady raises her hand to protect herself. She hit him by
the hardships and absurdity of our treatment in the camp.
accident.’ I take a deep breath in, The humid air ironically
But, she is dismissed abruptly. ‘Lady will be executed tonight,’
cools my throat and overheating body. A sigh of relief. I know
Colonel Hirota responds bluntly. We are defeated once again.
the only way to successfully protect Adrienne is to posit a
The words echo in my mind like Adrienne’s scream stalked
story that didn’t enforce blame on either the Japanese soldier
me all of last night. Susan shrinks back to her timid and quiet
or Adrienne. No clear criminal. No one’s fault. No evident war.
figure, realising her attempt to save Adrienne has been hopeless. I feel the responsibility shift completely to myself to
Colonel Hirota looks at me in the eyes. He doesn’t seem
be Adrienne’s saviour.
sceptical. I pray my attempt has been successful. I see Daisy ready to support my claim. I think my attempt hasn’t been
I ponder the strong conflicting thoughts in my mind. I think
proven futile yet.
I am ready to sacrifice something in order to save Adrienne. But then the thought of Wing invades my conscious. She
I search around the room and everyone is looking towards the
sacrificed her life in order to save Ms Roberts, yet her attempt
floor or at Colonel Hirota’s desk. But I feel someone staring at
was almost furtive. My minds flashes back to when she was
me. I navigate my eyes again, thoroughly inspecting Tomeo,
doused with petrol and lit on fire. My body begins to warm,
Hirota, Susan and Daisy but no one is looking at me. I feel
my palms bearing small beads of sweat and my cheeks
uncomfortable and begin fiddling with the sides of my dress
colouring to a deep red colour like the flame that burned
to pacify myself just like I did when I was a child. As I become
Wing alive. My mouth dries and cracks like the dehydrated
aware of my surroundings, I realise; the eyes are from above.
plains in Sumatra. The room is still yet my lip trembles and
They are God’s eyes. Yet the gaze isn’t one of condemnation
quakes.
or betrayal. It is one of approval. An overwhelming sense of guilt disappears from my soul. A weight lifted off my
‘Please, please,’ I blurt out. I feel the attention switch to
shoulders, a mask being removed from my being. God isn’t
me. My minds races. Do I fabricate a story which favours
angry at me, he is proud.
the Japanese or Adrienne? Do I lie and be sinful to God to
Ellen Sampsonidis Year 11
possibly save a fellow woman’s life? ‘I saw what happened,’ I propose. ‘Nun’s never tell lies.’ The words taste sour in my mouth yet I try to conceal them from my distressed facial expressions. I can already sense the
48
Y E AR 11
Untitled Paradise Road piece
Adrienne looks up and stares. Adrienne responds quickly
INT. ENGLAND - LATE AFTERNOON
and sharply. British household with a music player, playing Mad About the Boy, by Dinah Washington, beginning with the song lyric
ADRIENNE: I am. What of it?
“sleepless nights”. Sitting at a desk with paper scattered throughout the table on a chair, is Adrienne Pargiter, with
Adrienne’s husband looks at Adrienne in shock at her
bruises on her face, and dark rings under her eyes, evident
abrupt response.
of her lack of sleep. There is a faint sound of buzzing from a heater being used. A shot on the music player, then a shot
ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: I- uh. Nothing.
of the heater. Silence. Adrienne’s husband moves closer to Adrienne The song’s lyrics play: “Lord knows I’m not a school girl.”
and looks at her piece of paper with the words “Eulogy for Wing” written on it. Adrienne doesn’t react, continues
Adrienne stands up and stops the music player, changing
writing. Adrienne’s husband begins laughing, mocking
the song to an instrumental jazz piece, the same as the one
Wing’s name.
played in the Japanese Club House. Adrienne hums to the song, letting out an exacerbated sigh, picks up a pen and
ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: Who is W-wing? That’s a funny
writes on a piece of paper scribbling down Wing’s name.
name for a lady. Is she one of those chinks that got themselves wound up in that camp with you? What did she get killed for? Hoarding all the money for herself? You know
Enter Adrienne’s husband, humming to the song.
what the Chinese are like. You know, I don’t even know why ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: Gee whizz, this is a good song
you want to write a eulogy for this lady (seeming somewhat
in’t? I haven’t heard this song in a bloody long time.
confused), all of them are the same you know? They only seem to care for themselves.
Adrienne looks up and doesn’t say anything. Adrienne continues writing. Adrienne’s husband sits down on a chair
ADRIENNE: Sh-
next to Adrienne’s chair. Adrienne’s husband seems a bit frustrated and confused.
Adrienne’s husband interrupts Adrienne.
ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: Are you writing another one of
ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: I mean, I understand why you
those eulogies for some lady you met over there?
would want to create eulogies for people like Rosemary and Daisy, but they were… well, you know they were...
YE AR 11
49
Untitled Paradise Road piece
Throughout this line, Adrienne continually looks up and down at her paper, clearly contemplating whether or not to contradict her husband’s words. Adrienne then slams her on the table as though she has snapped. ADRIENNE: They were what William? Adrienne’s husband stares at her in shock. Adrienne stands up and begins pacing around the room. Adrienne begins to speak, her words growing in both speed and anger. ADRIENNE (as she speaks, she gets faster, appearing to become angrier as she speaks): I’m sorry for asking but was it normal that you were going to say? Kind? Genuine? Not cross-eyed? I’ll have you know that Wing is one of the most selfless women that I have ever met. She snuck out in the middle of the night, and she stole medicine and food for us. I would be dead without the medicine that she took! And how did she die? She did not die after being caught stealing money. Wing was caught stealing medicine for Mrs Roberts, and the Japanese poured petrol over her. And lit her on fire. Short one second flashbacks of Wing being burnt alive, with the women screaming, with the bright sun shining into the camera. ADRIENNE: She died for Mrs Roberts, even after Mrs Roberts so coldly rejected her presence, as you are doing now. Did she deserve that William? Did that lady with a “funny name” deserve to be killed in such a horrible way? Why is it that you think Daisy or Rosemary or the rest of the ladies that passed are any more worthy of a eulogy than Wing is? Adrienne’s husband looks at Adrienne in horror, with his mouth partially opened. Adrienne sits back down in her seat and makes a loud sigh. She runs her face through her hands and pushes her hair back, and then sits back in her chair. ADRIENNE: I-I’m sorry. I don’t know from where that came. But I still stand by what I said, I truly don’t think it’s fair of you to run your mouth about an honourable woman that you’ve not met before. Adrienne’s husband’s face appears scared of Adrienne’s radical thinking, looking confused. ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: Darling, I accept your apology. That lady Wang, shAdrienne is looking down at her table with her hands supporting her head, and looks up at her husband. ADRIENNE: Wing.
50
Y E AR 11
Untitled Paradise Road piece
ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: Right, Wing. Whatever it is. Adrienne looks up and sighs. ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: The things that you say she’s done for you, they don’t add up. I mean, how can an Asian do things like that. For a European especially. They only think for themselvAdrienne tries to reason with her husband’s views, almost begging for her husband to change his views. ADRIENNE: But William, it’s not as simple as that. They are not all the same, you only think like this because you’ve been taught to have these prejudices. ADRIENNE’S HUSBAND: You were brought up the same as me, were you not? What have those Japs done to you? You always expressed your opinions but you never had opinions like this. They’ve brainwashed you into this mindset, haven’t they? Are you not an Englishwoman? Adrienne looks up, both offended and fed-up. ADRIENNE: I don’t know what the Japanese have done to me, but perhaps I don’t want to see others as beneath me anymore. Perhaps I don’t want to be an Englishwoman. Adrienne stands up, pushes her chair in, and leaves the room calmly.
Olivia Chan Year 11
YE AR 11
51
Grace Stevenson - Year 12 Oil and resin on board
52
Y E AR 12
Needlework
My body is stitched with your colour.
Rage, like smoke,
Green and purple thread pool on my cheekbones.
permeates the pores of the cotton.
My thighs embroidered with red.
It holds tightly, soaking up a new epithet.
Cyan adorns my throat.
I breathe it. I share it as oxygen.
I am stitched with the colours of your love.
Fuelling the flames of a candle, fuelling a fire which chars even the tallest of trees.
The needle punctures deeply, sacrificing beads of red for the unyielding thread.
Anaesthetisation is an art,
What was once the smooth flesh you wedded
you do it exceptionally well.
is now perforated and riddled with empty vows.
Your golden mannequin stands,
The pricks have now blurred into an itch.
ready for auction at the price of a string of pearls, washed, drained, strenuously cultivated.
My heart ripples with visceral pleasure at your anguish, vainly burying me under layers of embroidery,
Stitch my lips,
restitching the bridles to the bride.
my eyes,
My nails latch themselves onto the loose thread,
so that I may not be exorcised.’
unravelling your patience.
Maiysha Moin Year 12
Y E AR 12
53
Blinded by Double Standards (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
Set at dusk, dim lighting in the apartment. He wants to come inside. My cheeks blush as I allow him to enter my home, my safe and private space. It feels like so long ago since I last invited a man into my apartment that I almost fail to hide my glee. He swaggers in and surveys the room, his eyes lingering on the faded green couch. They them zoom in on the framed picture of Travis, what seems to be the only thing I have left of him before he departed for that dreadful war. An urge consumes me to hide everything away from prying eyes, which seem so full of scrutiny. I suddenly feel insecure about my modest apartment. The solitary, single room flat, planted on the lowest level: one that once filled with rapture and passion but now resembles a tomb, a prison cell. His gaze then turns to me, as I grab a bottle of whiskey, one that I have been saving for a special occasion. Feeling his eyes fixate on me as though I too am one of the objects in the room, I struggle with the cork. A nervous chuckle escapes my lips in order to ease the tension that one watchful look can generate. Filling the two glasses, we toast. “To you and me,” he says nonchalantly. “To us,” I respond tentatively. He continues to stare. Panning across my lightly curled crimson locks, to my neck laid with pearls, down to my legs, fair and twiggy. I cannot help but feel uncomfortable under his cold, intrusive surveillance, like an insect in a jar, studied and observed. After taking one generous sip, he inches forward and before I can refuse, my soft blushed cheek is subject to his authoritative lips. I recoil. I have to push with some force before he relents and releases his hold of me. Something does not feel right. But this is what I have been wanting, is it not? To be the object of one’s desire and affection; to be touched and kissed? My eyes travel to the open window before me, and I instinctively reach to shut the blinds, in case any peeping is glaring in, searching for some late night entertainment. However, I am sure it would be rather surprising for the neighbours to see me with a date, a man, especially one so young and handsome. I refrain from shutting the blinds completely, allowing any onlookers to see just enough through the wooden slats.
54
Y E AR 12
Blinded by Double Standards (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
I turn back to John. Although it is the middle of summer, a chill passes through me. His fierce deep-set eyes hooded underneath a pair of bushy eyebrows lock with mine like magnets. My stomach lurches. His eyes reveal a menacing and lascivious presence, as he looks me up and down, like a piece of tender meat. I have become his prey. He lunges onto me, clutching onto my waist with strong overpowering hands, and forces me onto the couch. I attempt to fight back but the terror consumes me. I want to cry out, I know that no one will come to my aid. Non one evert does in this apartment block. Our close proximity does not equal emotional closeness. Someone could be murdered in her block and no one would notice. His barrel chested and buff build suffocate me. The sheer force of his grip is enough to kill me. But he does not care about the damage for he is determined. Men like him have the need to pick it, take it home, and cut of its stem. His violence does not generate from rage, but aggressive lust, desire and the need to control. Power. Fighting and thrashing, I manage to tug his heavy body off mine, instinctively slapping the man, who only moments ago, I was hopeful of seeing again. “Leave!” I shout. I can no longer contain my rage, boiling up inside of me, mixed with fear, shame and regret. These men do not see us as beings or equals but as mere objects of their fantasies and scopophilia. I want to be loved, not abused; shown affection. Tears swell in my eyes and I demand that he never see me again. I hear it in the apartments. Only last week, the married couple was arguing with such animosity and resentment. And soon after, a very persistent man was insisting that he come into the ballet dancer’s apartment. She is such a delicate thing that dancer, so young and desirable. Why is being desired a woman’s greatest wish, but also her greatest fear? “Prude,” John retorts as he staggers back. He leaves unceremoniously, taking with him the remnants of my dignity and self– esteem. I am left to collapse into a pool of my own worthlessness. I fall onto the couch- the aching of my heart greater than that of my bruises. The tears stream down my pale face and I am reminded of the agony I felt the day I received Travis’s telegram. The tortured and sleepless nights, watching the world become more and more unbearable as I look out that window. My sense of decency and respect shattered. I shut the blinds.
Erin Kontaxis Year 12
Y E AR 12
55
Close as Neighbours (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
JEFFRIES’ APARTMENT - SECOND DAY Zoom out from Jeffries’ face as he sleeps in front of his
(There is a long silence with no
acknowledgement from George. The
woman raises her voice slightly.)
window. EXT shot facing into apartment. Birds are heard
chirping OS. A bird flies onto Jeffries’ windowsill briefly
Well, don’t we all want to eat as a family?
before flying upwards, the camera following its movement. The bird lands on a vibrant flower box hanging from a white-
GEORGE:
wooden window sill on the apartment above. For a moment
No honey, you want to eat as a family. I want to
the camera pauses facing into the window before zooming
finish my crossword before the next train comes
into the room. There is a round dining table covered in a
in exactly -
- 22 minutes.
brown suit and white shirt, does not look up from his copy of
The Times but takes a piece of toast from the plate. Also at
eyes widen as they reach her bright lips.
the table is an infant girl, aggressively gnawing on buttered
He clears his throat and quickly looks away.
toast and a boy (15) who is staring out the window.
He gestures to the children.)
WOMAN:
Besides, we’re all eating as a family, aren’t we?
white table cloth and breakfast foods: a pitcher of orange juice, scrambled eggs on plates and cutlery. A woman (40)
(Checks watch which reads 7:05)
enters the scene dressed neatly in a white-lace trimmed apron and immaculate make up, with notably bright red lips. She sets a plate of toast on the table. A man (45), wearing a plain
(He looks up at her for the first time and his
Can’t you put that down for a minute, George? We
all want to eat as a family and you’re spilling eggs on
(He smirks down at his newspaper. The
the table.
woman shifts her gaze to the boy. He is
watching a scantily clad blonde dancing in
front of her open window.)
GEORGE: Mmhmm.
(He does not look away from his crossword)
WOMAN:
Michael! Eyes inside this instant! Honestly, she
WOMAN:
should be ashamed...parading around her
You’re not listening, George. I only washed the
window dressed like that. Don’t be fooled by
table cloth yesterday. Don’t you remember what
women like her, you hear me Michael?
your mother said about the state of it last time?
56
Y E AR 12
Close as Neighbours (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
(Michael nods but keeps the dancer in his
MICHAEL:
peripheral vision)
That guy. He’s staring out his window as if he’s king
of the world...or, New York at least.
Well, tell the boy, George! GEORGE:
GEORGE:
There’s no king of New York, Mike. That’s why we
Listen to your mother, Mike.
have the fourth of July.
MICHAEL:
(He looks up from his newspaper briefly
and then double takes, peering through
That’s not what I mean. It’s just that he seems happy,
his tilted spectacles at the young blonde,
almost proud of this place. This crappy
subtly, as though he is trying to avoid the
neighbourhood of all places. He must’ve had a good
woman’s attention)
night hey dad?
WOMAN:
Honestly, the pair of you!
(He nudges his father’s shoulder)
GEORGE: (She yanks the toddler out of her high chair
Don’t say that Michael. Your mother will have a fit.
and storms OS. The camera returns to
And this isn’t a crappy neighbourhood. I work
a wide angle of the breakfast table.
very hard for you to live here and this is how you
Both Mike and George are sitting right
repay me? Ungrateful generation. No wonder we’re
leg over left, with a mouthful
losing out to the commies.
of food, staring out the window. George
returns to his newspaper and Michael shifts
(George points at the cover of the
his gaze to Thorwald’s apartment)
newspaper with the title: The threat
spreads to our own backyard!)
MICHAEL:
What does that guy want, huh?
GEORGE:
No help at all. You know, when I was your age I was
fighting a war for this country. What are you doing?
Playing peeping Tom and driving your mother mad!
What did you say son?
Y E AR 12
(There is a brief pause but Michael does not react to his father’s outburst)
57
Close as Neighbours (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
MICHAEL:
GEORGE:
And where did his wife go?
What did you say son?
GEORGE:
MICHAEL:
Out.
Nothing.
MICHAEL:
George grunts smugly and checks his watch. He scrambles to
Where?
fold his newspaper and gives Michael an authoritative stare as he picks up his briefcase. With a call of ‘goodbye, honey!’
GEORGE:
he slams the door. After a few seconds the woman creeps
Shopping?
back into the dining room and sits in her husband’s seat. She unfolds the paper and flipping to the crossword, takes out a
MICHAEL:
red pen. Michael stares intently at Thorwald as he steps closer
to the window.
She’s been bed-ridden for months, why now?
MICHAEL:
GEORGE:
Well I don’t know, Michael. Quite frankly I don’t care
and neither should you. Just leave the poor people -
That’s no ordinary look. That’s the sort of look a man
gives when he has got his way...for once.
MICHAEL:
The camera slowly zooms out from the characters of the
But -
table, shifting to an EXT shot of the apartment. A black cat GEORGE:
sitting on their window ledge claws at the bird in the flower
But what? Hm? We are all patriots in this house, son,
box, prompting it to fly downwards. The camera follows the
and patriots don’t go spying on other
bird to the windowsill of the apartment below Jeffries’. It is
hardworking, decent citizens of America, do you
extremely drab inside the apartment and there are iron bars
hear me? So while you’re under my roof
upon the window. The camera zooms between the bars and
you will keep your nose out of their business and in
into the room. Panning around the room shows a clock on
your breakfast. And thank your mother; she made it
the wall stopped at 11:32; a bed with a deep depression on
just for you.
the left side and mildew on the duvet; and a pile of books with foreign titles sitting beside the bed. Finally, the camera
MICHAEL:
reaches a desk with an immediately polished portrait of a
(Whispering)
young man in uniform. An elderly woman (80) is sitting at a
low, embellished armchair at the desk, staring out the window
58
You never do.
Y E AR 12
Close as Neighbours (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
at Thorwald. The glow from her cigarette provides the room’s
only light. She is talking into an old telephone with a thick
dare call me crazy, Alek! You pushed me to this
Eastern European accent.
place by myself.
WOMAN:
That is no ordinary look. That is the sort of look a
Thorwald’s flowers)
man gives when he is wondering where it all went
wrong. Wondering when she decided to do it and
Why didn’t you come? Why did you leave me here?
how...and why. He reminds me of you, Alek. Do I
Why didn’t you tell me?
remind you of her?
(Pause)
No. I could never give up on you. Ungrateful
Don’t you care about what happens to me? I care
woman. She was always nagging even before she
about what happens to you.
was sick. I could tell.
(Pause)
resumes digging)
I never nag, eh? Only discuss.
Don’t you love me?
(Pause)
(Pause)
He looks so sad. Like you, Alex. He is staring out like
I still love you.
there is nothing in front of him. It is like the bars on
my window, ahhh trap him, no?
(Pause)
I have changed my mind. You are not like that man. I
am. I am the one who is left alone. I am the one who
I don’t know. You always say I am making it up. You
feels trapped by these bars. I am the one wondering
are probably right.
when you decided to do it...and how...and why.
(Pause)
(Thorwald walks OS to find his briefcase)
Y E AR 12
He is gone now and I am alone again. Don’t you
(The sculptor shoos away a dog digging at
(Thorwald re-enters and begins filling his briefcase with fake jewellery)
(The dog comes back to the flowers and
(Thorwald leaves again)
59
Close as Neighbours
The Final Act
(Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
(Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
You are like her. You abandon me. You leave me in
The woman sits rigidly in bed, caged by her pretense of
the dark. You might as well have killed me.
a marriage, trapped by her husband’s oppressive gaze. Breakfast tray in hand, he puts one knee on the bed and
She pauses for a moment. When there is no response she
leans toward her, his weight dipping the mattress beside her.
hangs up the phone. The camera follows its wire to the plug which dangles, connected to no socket. Zoom out to an
“Eat.”
exterior shot of all three apartments. Michael is in the window of the top apartment, gazing down at Ms. Lonely hearts;
She stares down at the food, unwilling to meet his gaze, yet
Stella and Jeffries are surveying Thorwald’s apartment; the
she knows she must play her role convincingly. She teases
elderly woman continues watching the dog in Thorwald’s
him lightly,
flowers. “Hope it’s cooked this time.” Her husband’s face tightens,
Amy Chilcott Year 12
misinterpreting her light-hearted comment, he storms out of the room, muttering about nagging wives under his breath. “And scene,” she whispers to herself. Her eyes fall on a wedding photo that sits on her bedside stand. Inside the frame stands a young man dressed in a handsome black tuxedo, his eyes sparkling with love as he looks down at the woman who bears his name. In an intricate lace wedding dress, she leans in to him, a stray lock of blonde hair falling into her eyes as she laughs freely towards the camera. Picture perfect. “Funny how things change,” she thinks to herself, “my wedding was exactly how I’d dreamed it to be ever since I was a little girl. I had the loving parents, the handsome husband, the doting bridesmaids and the most beautiful dress I had ever laid eyes on. I’d ticked all the boxes that I was told to tick. They don’t show the negatives do they?” She laughs humourlessly to herself.
60
Y E AR 12
The Final Act (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
The first few years were perfect by all standards, her husband bought this apartment in Greenwich, and she made it feel like home with the money Lars earnt from his new job as a lawyer. He was one of the best in town. Their days were filled with work, and their nights filled with each other. They were content. And then he wasn’t. The communist fear that snuck into America in the late 1940’s took Lars’ license as a lawyer and forced him to become a salesman to make ends meet. Her hair faded to a mousy brown from the stress that rendered her bed ridden, and her husband became colder with every bill that forced its way into their home. ………………………………………… Under the red burning sky, the woman lays in bed, her focus drawn to the world outside her own. Her eyes zoom in on a young couple opposite, a photographer by the looks of the camera equipment cluttered around him, waited on by an alluring young woman, thin, blonde and beautifully presented. She watches the pair, a mixture of jealousy, pity and nostalgia pulsing through her veins. She is unnerved by the couple opposite, they remind her so clearly of the early days of her marriage, a handsome man whose hair is just starting to grey and a beautiful blonde woman by his side. The harmless flirting and sneaking around behind closed doors. “If only they knew what was coming,” she says bitterly as all her marital insecurities fill her head. Her husband hardly speaks to her and when he does his voice is hard and unfeeling. He never sleeps by her side, preferring the company of a cigar and the sofa outside. All signs point towards the obvious explanation, but the young, malleable girl inside her clings to the hope that he loves her still. …………………………………………. Her ears prick up as she hears her husband on the phone, she strains her ears trying to catch a snippet of the conversation. Unable to decipher a word, she sneaks out of bed and creeps towards the door. Eyes filling with tears, she listens to the loving, crooning tone that she has not heard for years. Determined to confirm her suspicions, she pulls herself together and enters, her dread hidden behind her mask. He mutters something into the phone and looks up at her. “What do you want?” he asks sharply. She saunters towards him, heart pounding in her chest, a small smile on her lips.
Y E AR 12
61
The Final Act (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
“Is that your mistress on the phone?” she teases, “thought it was a stock call.” Her voice quivers at the end and she presses her lips together, dreading his response. Her act has worked, his face twitches, and she sees the answer in his eyes. He stands up and walks threateningly towards her, backing into her cage. She smells the ash on him as he leans menacingly over her and feels the smoke seeping into her pores, tarnishing her further. Arms extended pleadingly in front of her, she begs for it not to be true. She begs for her marriage back. “Shut up woman,” and he pushes her back onto the bed and leaves again. Burying her face in her hands, she lets her tears flow as the final strands of her marriage fall and join the tangled mess of her heart on the floor. ………………………………… She stares back at the window opposite, looking for the man who has been watching her throughout the day. Strange, she knows, to want eyes to watch her, but this circumstance is different. The eyes in her past have leered at her and scrutinized her legs, her lips, her breasts without regard to how she would react. She shivers at the memory of the hands that slid over her and asks herself again, why does she want this man’s eyes focused on her? Security? It must be. When your dream man turns into your own personal nightmare, any kind of third party observer is a good sign. The woman can’t shake the feeling that something evil is lurking in her shadow, but who can she turn to for help? Any authority figure doesn’t believe in the ‘female intuition’. Perhaps this is why she is reassured by the photographer’s gaze; what are neighbours for but to look after each other. ……………………………………… The night sky is pitch black, stars snuffed out by the heat that steadily climbs with no signs of relenting. The weight of the sky presses down on the woman who tosses fitfully in her sleep. She is alone in bed, her other half absent. A loud bang followed by a curse wakes her from her restless sleep. Her eyes snap open, staring at the ceiling as she listens to her husband rummaging around in the kitchen drawers. She sits up slowly before placing her feet as quietly as possible on the floor boards next to her bed. Treading softly, she pads her way to the doorway when a floor board creaks beneath her weight. She freezes, heart in her throat, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for her husband’s hands to find her. After 10 seconds, she relaxes slightly, he mustn’t have heard. She peeks her head around the door frame and squints against the darkness to see her husband’s silhouette
62
Y E AR 12
The Final Act (Inspired by the film Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock)
He combs through the kitchen drawers, pulling out a meat cleaver, a butcher’s knife and a metal skewer and places them on the metal bench top. He pauses for a moment, and places everything back in the drawer except for the knife which he hides under the kitchen rug. He reaches over for his briefcase, removing a bottle of bleach and a number of kitchen towels, the ones designed to soak up spilt liquids. He places these under the sink, walks to the couch and lights a cigar. The smoke fills the room, choking the woman who has slumped to the floor, paralyzed with fear. Her panicked eyes dart around the room and fall on the silhouette of the man in the apartment opposite, asleep at the window. She panics, the night has taken away her safe-guard. ………………………………………… It’s a beautiful morning, the sun just peaking over the horizon casting long rays of soft light across the woman’s petrified face. The sound of chirping birds swirls around the silent courtyard, the heat of the day yet to strike. The woman sits in bed, her terror freezing her into place. Her husband walks in slowly and her eyes widen. He looks younger, rejuvenated and in love. The frown lines have turned to laughter and the past month melts away in the heat of his gaze, her fears along with it. She is stunned by his resemblance to the man she married. He holds out his hand, his wedding ring glinting in the morning sun and he smiles lovingly down at her. Her heart leaps with joy at the return of the man she loves and clasps his hand with her own, their fingers interlocking. She goes willingly into his embrace and he breathes into her ear, “How about a bath sweetheart?” The man walks out into the darkness, a hipflask locked to his lips. Stumbling across the courtyard, he reaches for the silver lid, dimly reflecting the light of the full moon. A solitary knife lies at the bottom of the bin’s dark abyss, a rusty smear along the gleaming blade. An empty bottle joins it, the piercing smell of chlorine cutting through the air. A final swig and he pours out the lingering contents, dousing the remains of a marriage. He walks away, a red glow fading into the darkness. Behind him, a trash can alight.
Chee-Rae Loi Year 12
Y E AR 12
63
Acknowledgements Grace Stevenson – 2019 Art Captain and Cover Designer The Fintona English Faculty Mr Brit Biviano – Art Co-ordinator Mrs Janine Mayer – Marketing and Communications Manager Ellikon Fine Printers – Design and Print
64
A C K NO W L E DG E M E N T S
Ringing Voices published by Fintona Girls’ School 79 Balwyn Road, Balwyn Victoria, Australia Ph: +613 9830 1388 Fax: +613 9888 5682 E: fgs@fintona.vic.edu.au www.fintona.vic.edu.au