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Labyrinth of Language

The students from ALNS, years 7 to 11, have all come together to produce something our school has never done before. We want you to have an insight to our work, what we do in school and how our work can go from year 7 story writing to year 11 A* standard assessments. Dive in and see the growth in different subjects and what we achieve at school. There will be poems to passages and film reviews to foreign languages. Bringing the school together as one, so take a look and see what ALNS have done.

Paris Unrequited love. I brought her to Paris, the city of love; yet she doesn’t seem at all bothered. The hotel room was mediocre, and although she didn’t complain I knew she wasn’t best pleased. I’m marooned, even after 2 years; her sweet scent drives me crazy. Her beautiful blue eyes make my heart melt, yet her pursed lips scream from across the room that something’s not right. I know I’m not the best looking man; I try my best, but she’s changed. Unrequited love. What am I doing here? In Paris? My mother must be wondering. As I glanced towards the cabinet, the shocking red numbers on the clock announced it was three fifteen. Not entirely sure whether it was day or night, I peeked through the worn out emerald curtains. Night. This place was the faded moon illuminated everything slightly, for as far as I could see. The battery I visited every morning, the little streets I strolled along; it was beautiful, despite doing it all on my own. He never wanted to do anything, and sometimes I wonder why he brought me here. I suggested Notre Dame, the Champs Elysees… but he just wanted to be here in this shabby hotel room. I slunk back down into the chair, which matched beautifully with the curtains, and glanced over at him. He was a cliché; tall, dark and handsome, but it was his personality – which seems to no longer exist, what I fell for. He no longer jokes with me, everything’s so seri9us and… boring, through no fault of his own. Through the corner of my eye I could see his large, brown eyes gazing at me in a puppy dog manner. He wanted something; for things to change? I wasn’t going to give it to him unless he changed himself. The silence was now getting annoying and the current state of my nails became the most interesting thing in the room. Unrequited love. The silence, like glass: so fragile, I was scared to break it. Her fuchsia nails were glancing round the room as if she were looking for something. She wasn’t happy here. The tension was swirling round the room, bouncing off the faded brown walls and hitting me in the face. Our room was love to the ground so I was used to cars whizzing by, but tonight was different. It was as if everyone knew, as if everyone could also feel the mind boggling tension, as if they knew to stay out the way. Because of this, all I could hear was her gentle breathing, and if I got close enough, probably her heartbeat; my favourite sound. Bu I wasn’t sure moving was the best idea, so I stayed sat up at night in the worn out armchair directly opposite her. She had suggested doing nice things, and they probably would have been great if I didn’t see it as just an excuse. An excuse to get away from here, from the silence -

which I don’t blame her for, but what I feared the most was the excuse to get away from me to roam the busy streets and get purposely lost on her own. I stared lovingly at the beautiful woman in the front of me, bamboozled. A few moments later, she looked up – her beautiful azure eyes staring at me. With the last bit of effort and hope I had, I smiled. I’d decided our whole relationship depended on her response. And still, she stared coldly through me. This was it; I couldn’t stand it any longer. U was going to be audacious, reckless; I was going to break the glass silence. “Unrequited love?” I asked, my voice croaky from going so long without speaking. It sounded a lot more childish than I’d hoped, and I could feel a lump inviting itself into my throat, increasing as seconds ticked by. She looked away, and this could have been the longest minute of my life. After what seemed like hours, she got up. Her curvy size 14 figure, laced with a blood red dress seemed like it didn’t fit in here; in this shabby hotel room. Unrequited love. He’d done it. He knew. I brushed the dirt off my dress and had one last glance at him. His eyes gleaming, as if they were ready to overflow. And then I left. Unrequited love. I knew it. I’d known since we got here. How could I be so foolish? My first love had just walked away from me and I let it happen. Suddenly, almost subconsciously, my eyes began to close as I heard her heels fading into the distance. A single tear fell. Unrequited love.

Sophie Clarke Year 10

Creative Writing Life isn’t about what you do; it’s about whom you spend it with. Time isn’t about how it’s spent; it’s about how it’s remembered. Love isn’t love unless the time you’ve spent, on the other life, is remembered. Death isn’t the end of life; it’s the beginning of memories. Guns, knives and drugs, all are things that can kill or hurt, the thing that hurts the most isn’t a gun or a knife or even a drug, it’s expectations. When expectations aren’t met, it becomes disappointment. That’s the killer.

Dan Cairns Year 10

War Drip drop; the raindrops gently splash against the double glazed window, clearing the dust and stain off the smooth surface and calmly slide down to the windowsill. Tic tock; as every sound in these two minutes were not to be wasted, but to give our respects to all those soldiers who have lost their precious lives because of the meaningless, disastrous and gruesome war, including the father of my ten year old twins. Another batch of bodies belong to those unfortunate soldiers have just arrived at the hospital, the nurses from our section have all been called to help out and to treat them with care. Seeing blood and bodies every single day doesn’t make me burst out in tears anymore, but to think that many families and friendships have been ruined and destroyed already and possibly even more in the future by this gruesome and dreadful war will always and forever make my heart ache.

Man Yee Woo Year 10

A heartwarming Extract 1 in 4 people forget their husband’s birthday 1 in 4 people won’t know their own children 1 in 4 people will be diagnosed with a degenerative disease. It’s a fact. Bad things happen to the best of people. Well in my family it did. To my best friend. I wish I had a second chance. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye, properly. It’s not something I wanted for him to loose his memory. To forget my name, not recognize me. Karen he’d call me, ‘no it’s Paris’ I’d answer. Clueless as to what was wrong; I was at such a young age when he was diagnosed. I remember the days we used to stroll to the park, not a care in the world. He’d take me to the shop, a galaxy and a capri-sun, same thing every time. In the summer we used to walk to the ice-cream van, his favorite thing in the world. We had so much in common. I always felt myself around him, as if I could be whoever I wanted to be. A princess, penguin, ghost, confident, that’s how I felt, all of the time. I used to wonder what death would be like. Whether or not there’s heaven or hell. Do you become a reborn star twinkling in the midnight sky? A ghost? Maybe you’re reincarnated or just simply dead. A lost spirit, forgotten. 1 in 4 people have a stroke every year leading to a powerful bleed to stream through the cracks of the skull into the brain. This may either lead to a quick blunt death or a degenerative condition which causes memory loss or motor failure. I wish he had a second chance. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye, properly. It’s not something I wanted for him to loose his memory, forget my name, not recognize me, you see… Bad things happen to the best of people. Well in my family it did. To my best friend. Paris Billings Year 11

Creative writing It’s hard to get up in the morning, to awake from my slumber, when you know what you’re going to wake up to and if what you’re going to wake up to is an empty space, where the thing you love the most In the world used to be, a heartless home and an, evidently, meaningless existence in which you question reality itself, then why wake up at all? At least in my dreams he held me, brushed his lies to mine, and loved me. At least in my dreams he was safe and hope he’d wish the same upon me in his, I knew he did.

Sean Brophy Year 10

Extract from a piece entitled ‘War’ Cherished dimples remain embedded in my mind. I feel myself slipping, losing grip…But I won’t. My shattered, however somehow strong ankles, ease their way out of the torture they had been surrounded by, crashing to the wooden planks; dark and crumbling under these catastrophically uncomfortable painted white, steel bunks. Grabbing at thin air, I stumble, losing balance as I fall off the blanket. Nevertheless, I clamber to my wart-ridden feet, snatching my medal; it’s mine. Lights flicker after me, whilst attempting to stay on. My mindset is all over the place, feeding on what is left of my memories. Scarred, my arms feel as heavy as they felt the day my father passed; I heard his voice that day, calling to me, begging me for a savior. Numerous times I’ve tried to figure out, what it was that prevented me from leaving this place. It still baffles me why I don’t. Pain tickles my vein as a needle is pressed firmly into my skin, tearing at the old layer and threatening the next. Tiny hair follicles that surrounded that vile animal are caressed with blood, blood filled with liquids my body isn’t used to. Whilst I adapt to my body’s new fluids, my bony, limp hands slide off the disorientated head, which was attached with discomfort to my neck. A voice calms me, soothing me, like a lullaby into a deep, dreamless sleep… As I sing to my beloved, I feel him falling, being deceived into darkness, a blackness like no other, that he can never return from. His dark, smooth locks swept across his delicate angel face; I know he is peaceful. I am afraid that I will never see his diamond eyes again. Not even a memory. It will never be the same. Grieving the loss of beauty and passion enrolled, I curse war, praying our daughter would feel the same. Heart wrenchingly beautiful scenes of happiness and tender love enter my broken-by-death brain.

Daisy Quelch, Year 10

Dragons One dark and dull night Tom, a mad scientist, was working on a chemical which was made to enhance the height of humans, animals and objects such as food but he still had a lot of work to do before it was safe to use on people. Tom was 22 years old, male and a bit crazy. He had spiky brown hair and a friendly personality. Tom placed the container on the shelf above his lizard. While Tom was wondering round his lab his lizard was bashing around his cage making the walls and shelves shake. Suddenly, the chemical on the shelf fell and smashed on the metal bar on the cage sending glass in all directions and the formula all over the place. Unaware of what the chemical did the lizard licked the goo off his cage and grew‌ The small lizard grew ruby red scales and soulless white eyes, a heart of stone and wings as big as a large car. He had transformed into a dragon. So with one jump he burst through the roof and flew into the night sky. Tom knew what he had to do, he had to use force to stop the dragon.

Harry Cookson Year 7

Lost: Original Writing Once again, I returned to the thoughts in my brain. Is this a dream? As the wind whistled in my ear, I crumpled my fingers and shook my left foot to see if everything still worked. I realized this was no fantasy it was real. A loose brick poked out of a Victorian building which hanged over me I reached up clinging to the brick that started to crumble in my hand. With all my power I pulled myself to my feet my body leaned against the wall in disbelief at my surroundings. Still figures lay scattered across the demolished streets. I could smell the rotting bodies of those who were dead, my stomach clinched tightly. I felt something pass up my body, and then my mouth started to burn as it poured out of my mouth onto the destroyed street, running down the curb as like it was waterfall in an exotic jungle. Then I froze.

George Rentoul. Year 11

War They’re gone and I may never see them alive again. I’m alone at last. I must remember the good memories I had or I will be weak, pathetic and useless. I need to stay strong for the future. This is very difficult to remember my past in this place. My heart is frozen like solid ice. But my past will give me the strength to do what I have to do tomorrow. All I know is that I must survive. It’s evening. I sat down on the ground, finished eating. Earlier I listened to jokes with my mates. I went to my warm tent, to my tent to get ready for the big day and took a cigarette to relax.

Diproo Sy-ed Year 10

A Stitch in time When Charles Fratton-Frogmore entered Jeffery was instantaneously on his guard. Charles was a pompous, ignorant and above all, stupid multi-billionaire. A bad combination. He had emerald eyes that hid behind a pair of John Lennon style glasses. He wore a pin-striped suit the colour of the night sky. He had mud brown hair which spiked forward like the sea. He had a permanent sneer like there was a bad smell under his nose. On his feet he wore blue Converse All-Stars.

Then notorious thief and murderer, Rob.N.Murder entered Goldes gold. In his thick Pompey accent he grunted “9 carat gold stud” and plonked himself, as heavily as a breeze block, on a chintz chair in the corner. It groaned under his immense weight. Robert Nathan Murder had the nose of a boxer that had lost the fight and eyes as small and beady as pin-pricks. He sported tattoos of anchors on his upper arms and a Portsmouth football club emblem on his chest just visible under his shrunken white vest. His hair was blonde and spouted out of his head like a shoe brush. He wore shorts which almost hid underneath his bulging chest. He owned a pair of Timberland sandals which sadly did not cover his yellow toe nails. He smiled a set of brown teeth with more gaps than a crossword when Jeffery shyly muttered “£10, please, sir” Rob snatched the bag Jeffery was holding with sausage fingers and slapped a Charles Darwin onto frail, withered fingers before slamming the oak door behind him.

Lloyd Carr, Year 7

Extract from a creative writing piece. My life’s endlessly running on hope. Especially now I’m here, its not hoping to win. It’s hoping to survive. It’s hoping that someday, someday soon I’ll be in my family’s arms again. Numbers running through my mind, always counting down to gun fire. 4, 3, 2, 1. Then all at once 50 bullets shoot through the air, screaming at me, screaming free. Something I will never be. Day in, day out we’re fighting. We can’t mourn for a soldier’s death; our heads have got to be in the game. They lay there lifeless, bedraggled and bleak. Its despairing I can’t help them, I can’t give them that dignity of being peaceful. My brisk, foul bed makes this experience even bitterer. The mattress is hard as a rock and the raunchy smell lingers on the sheets. Its rough feel itches my skin. However, the indistinct nights are shared with the man who is more like a brother then a best friend. He will be there through that long brisk night. He’s been here longer then me, but ever since the day I came he’s looked out for me. Ben is his name, Sergeant Ben. He tells me that when he first came here he thought it was going to be easy; he was petrified though he was ready. Is it possible to be ready?

Hayley Stannard Year 10

Original Writing 8:30 Help us Mary mother of Jesus. Save us, Lord Jesus. Please save us. I woke slowly, groggily. My head hurt, couldn’t stand. Debris on my leg prevented me from getting up. There was silence. Nothing to be heard. But then like the loud roar of a car’s engine, I heard screams, people crying and then a loud ringing in my ears. There were people just wondering around, their faces filled with fear. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, like an explosion. After that people started to rush around. Helping people. Saving people. But not me. 8:51 The first movement I have made since the crash. The first feeling in my leg. It was painful. Hurt, but not broken, I could move it. Although I was confused, I started to realise what was happening around me. As I lay there on my own, waves of pain and fatigue rippled through me, a little child sat beside me. “Have you seen my mummy?” the little boy asked. I couldn’t reply, I couldn’t find the words to tell him I didn’t know, so I just shook my head. The bruised up barely dressed boy just walked away into the light. There was a big fire at the end of the tube so all I could see were silhouettes, running around like dancers in a candlelight theatre. I felt a sense of panic and screamed for help.

Ryan Chandler Year 11

Extract from original writing One year ago, when everyone forgot there was one man who remembered. His name was Marty. He had military style hair which is very short and straight on the top. Marty is 6ft tall exactly, he has blue eyes and a scar across his right cheek. He would often wear his desert camouflaged outfit. After what happened he would carry around a pistol because he will not risk what happened a year ago happening again. It all started one year ago from today in the heart of Afghanistan. Marty was in a bunker being overrun by the Taliban. He was the only one left alive from his squad and desperately needed back up. Marty was doing fine considering he had held them off for at least an hour; however, the sniper had him in sight as he wasn’t crouched down enough. The sniper was about to fire when a huge rumble filled the sky; the Taliban went down one by one and the bullets started firing from no where. An attack helicopter came down and then Marty realized it was back up. He got into the helicopter and flew away.

Jack Metcalfe Year 7

Original Writing Coursework White. My son kept repeating his usual mantra, “Did you take your medicine?” I nodded, I wasn’t stupid just old. My skin had become dry and you could tell I was ill. Several times I have imagined the unimaginable, thought the unthinkable, taking my own life couldn’t be that bad, it would be quick, easy, and I doubt anyone would miss me. What’s the point in living in a world you’re not part of, I feel so artificial, I feel as if I were chocking, withering away in this hell hole. 91 years old, a sister is all I have left of the original 7 although even her face has faded over time. “Right I’m off” he continued, “Bye “he said as I heard the door close. I was tired, I shuffled my way towards the bed, turned off my light, and laid down. The room fell silent. Black.

Harry Andrews Year 11

Chapter 3 The people within the hospital kept on working, but at the end of the third day since the death of the Field Marshal, General Smith made a big speech. This told the rest of the Camp that Field Marshal Smyth had been killed in battle and would be taken home for the funeral. The Camp was shocked and for three days was very eerie due to the death of the highest ranked person on the site of Camp Buckingham. All of the officers paid their respects before the plane had landed to take him home. However, the plane was late in fact very late. There was no reason why the plane would have taken as long as it did unless it was diverted for safety reasons. No one could understand why it would have been diverted, but then they realised that the weather in England had been terrible therefore would have delayed the flight.

Elliott Smith Year 9

Dragons One beautiful moonlit night, Prince Bobbie, a wimpy little fellow told his staff “Tidy up this castle, pretty please with cherries on top.” After 3 hours of making the house spic ‘n’ span, all the guests came rushing in especially the Pigott family of 12. Gertrude Pigott, the oldest of the bunch, was a Princess. People called her Gigantic Gertrude or Princess Pig. People said she would never find true love, a little girl even said “She made me cry but not by her actions by her face.” Unfortunately, everyone was wrong. She did find true love not with a pig, a horse or a peasant but the one and only Prince Bobbie. When people saw them dancing together they gasped as loud as a foghorn, heard from thousands and thousands of miles away. Late that night while Princess Gertrude and Prince Bobby were asleep, they heard footsteps, enormous, loud footsteps coming from outside in the royal garden. Bobbie woke up instantly but Gertrude laid still. Suddenly “AHHHHHHHH!” screamed Bobbie like a little girl at a horror film, Gertrude woke up and said “What the pomegranate was that?” She got up and stared at the garden for an hour but nothing was to be seen, so she went back to sleep, not realizing her Prince was gone. Early the next morning, Princess Gertrude found out her wimpy prince was gone. In tears she armors up ready to fight this dreadful prince-napper. “Are you ready soldiers?” Screamed Gertrude, “Yes!” they replied loudly, but then behind Gertrude appeared a muscled, macaroon colored dragon as tall as Mount Everest.

Ellie Middleton Year 7

Secrets of the Future Cautiously, the sun arose as the fresh smell of the morning dew filled the air. The fields awoke from their sleep whilst, a new day dawned. Gradually, the colour seeped back into the angelic, enchanting, fascinating country side. Amongst this beautiful land was an ancient, petit cottage. However, it was hard to see as the massive oak trees guarded it from preying eyes. Meanwhile, the golden sun illuminated Anna’s room, which was filled with dilapidated, coffee coloured boxes. Gracefully, Anna stepped out of bed and wondered to the window; she drew the moth eaten curtains to reveal the mesmerising scenery. Tentatively, Anna tiptoed down the ancient stairs; this was Anna’s first day in her new home. She hated it. She always hated moving; her parents didn’t like to live in the same house for any longer than three years. Stunningly, Anna didn’t know why but she never got close enough to anyone to miss them. So it became a usual thing, moving that is. Whilst, Anna was thinking about her mixed up life, she was hit by the scent of burnt toast and fried eggs.

Rayne Skora Year 9

Plant Once upon a time there lived a very healthy plant. This plant lives in sunny Spain which is perfect for photosynthesis which is the process of plants making food. Every morning Mario opens his restaurant ready for breakfast for his tourists. When he opens his doors with pride he goes out the front, lays his tables and waters his plants. His plants have all the ingredients for photosynthesis; sunlight, water and carbon dioxide (CO2). The sunlight itself shines down on the leaves so that the chlorophyll can pick it up to make the leaves green. The chlorophyll is kept inside the chloroplast which is where photosynthesis takes place. To top it off the chlorophyll is inside the chloroplast and those to be kept inside the palisade cell. This way everything is kept snug and small. CO2 is taken from the surrounding air and taken in through the holes of the stoma. Finally some of the water is taken in form of rain however most of it is taken in from the soil. The roots on them have little hairs and lots of them. This is to increase the surface area so they can absorb as much water as they need. The root hairs absorb this water and minerals by osmosis. Everything needed for photosynthesis is taken in from different places of the plant so it can all be taken in at the same time. The sunlight within the plants then combines the H2O and CO2 to make glucose which is the plants food. This process doesn’t only make glucose but it also makes oxygen as a by-product. This isn’t a waste of product as we use it to breathe. Once Percy the plant has eaten as much food as he wants he doesn’t just throw it away. He stores most of it as starch. It does this because the starch takes up less space as the particles are more stuck together rather than glucose when they are floating around and spread apart. Plants also turn glucose into cellulose which is then used for cell walls. The rest of the glucose is then turned into proteins and oils which is stored in nuts and seeds. However poor Percy’s girlfriend is very ill. She has developed a case of white leaves. Her leaves are vegetated which means photosynthesis can’t happen so she is likely to die which is awfully sad and a funeral will be carried out. However as for Percy he is fit and healthy to carry on living life to the full making as much food as he needs. So remember Carbon dioxide + water, (sunlight – chlorophyll), glucose + oxygen or Cats die + with, (silly causes), gurgling + olives.

Sophie Dennis Year 10

Original Writing “It’s over? It’s over!” I shrieked down the phone and launched myself on the nearest bench. The coldness seeped through my tights leaking onto my bare skin. How could he? How could some blonde haired, size zero tart be the end of five months? I had given him everything! Unevenly sighting I looked up through the cover of the platform, spots of rain danced as they fell. There was, a crack in the overcast blanket, a ray of sunlight struggled to breakthrough from the barrier of clouds. Wiping my eyes I removed stuck pieces of hair from my face and cleared away running mascara. A mist of anger enveloped me; all I could see was green. “The greatest thing you will ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

Lauren Elliott Year 11

‘’Imagination is the beginning of creating. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine and at last you create what you will.’’ George Bernard Shaw

Spring As the spring opens like an emerald green oak blooming It carefully lays a thick forest of blue bells As if it were a sapphire carpet. The mango yellow sun wakes up for the first time It sets its golden beam on a well crafted web To make it look like a crystal maze The beginning of spring is a new start To a exquisite mother nature created animal Suddenly it breaks its china casing and Feels the bitter fresh air for the first time.

James McGrath

Creamish white and wrought from marble In it a cross of Christ is carved. I look upon the grave of the unknown Not knowing them, yet I still do. I do not know their name, Yet what is in a name? I do not know there rank, or their face But does that matter? Because I know that they died for us, For their country. And that they are a hero to us all Not to be forgotten. That is what matters.

Zachery S. Rumfitt

So does a silence begin. We stand in this silence Until the bugler stops. Then we move, one after the other And lay wreaths of flowers for the long dead. We lay them at the top of the marble stairs Under the names of heroes. For that moment everyone is looking at you Then we move away. We stand in silence once more And the bugle plays again. We think of what past before Then we walk away. The Menin gate, Ypres, 19th February 2011

Zachery S. Rumfitt

The memories are gone, almost. Erased nearly, I can remember you whispering in my ear, It still echoes throughout my mind. I remember the coffee we spilt on the new carpet, stain. Still makes me laugh, even though it’s not real anymore. I can remember the time you took me to the beach, Went on the waltzers, round and round. We giggled childishly into the orange sun. It’s grey now, though. It doesn’t smile anymore. You can’t remember can you?

Holly Milner

There is a big difference between a baby and a Full grown man First puberty And then BANG‌ You hit marriage and Then out pops a baby‌ The one you love the most after your wife. After a few years You get an OAP statement and then death Strikes you.

Rory Kemp 10H

I love my mum Sometimes we fall out We live, love, laugh, play Together. We have a huge family. Laughter, trust. My mum makes me feel welcome with Her warm loving heart. My mum, like my home, loving, Caring, warm and strong. Happiness, kindness, laughter. Hate, sadness. Trust, anger . That’s my life.

Jasmine Craven

Pressure built, Sadness rose, Tears filled up, And eventually let go, Affection love laughter kept, But it could not be the same. Sheppard pie got us high, Happiness, My eyes stayed dry, Funny smiles, Lying down, Those are my memories, That stayed inside. Taken away from training, Knock on the door, The man called Billy, Fell to the floor, SpongeBob for me, Was the real main cure, It made me memorize the memories, We had Cyprus glass bottom and my funny Dad.

George Greentree

Three men stand in the twilight, Tears silently falling, Falling from their eyes. Three grown men crying in the twilight, For their friends who fell in battle, Grown men weeping for the dead, The dead who died in the twilight. And as the tears fall, They fall like the blood of the brave, And splash on the grassy ground At the foot of the graves in the twilight. Do not mourn in the twilight. Do not join the hundreds of parents who do. I do not wish you to mourn me in the twilight. Do not mourn me at all. Do not mourn in the sun. Do not wear black for me. Instead, drink tea and eat buns And do not mourn me at all. Do not think of how I died. In the mud in the fields. But remember that I died for you You do not have to mourn me at all.

Zachery S. Rumfitt

It’s the day…The day the streak returns Tears and sorrow through the air. Thunderstorms brewing like a witch’s pot And the sound of wild birds screeching leaves a patch in the earth. A message from the gods of dispatches, lands on my doorstep And I tell my neighbor my news. Only thy up above, knows the secret of life, above and below For purgatory isn’t present. Hell whispers the devil’s secret Whilst, heaven blows a lovely tune. The apocalypse spells ‘Death’ in the area that surrounds Mother Nature’s atmosphere And the level of surrender to the gods reaches maximum potential. Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Sikh’s believe there gods are returning to there kingdom and proclaiming their land. Jez Pidgeon, Mason Moore

Black Death I will tell you a story But it wouldn’t give you much glory Of the Black Death years ago It started with a black rat, That was very fat, It caught a disease, which made the fleas pleased, The fleas bit the rat, Which made them go and attack, The rats died, But the fleas survived, Cause it gave the disease to the humans, Buboes they got and vomiting a lot, These humans got sicker and sicker, After a few days if the buboes didn’t pop The humans would die!

Anna Gray 7L

Nurtured me ever since I was born Cradled me to her heroic heart Beating like a drum Two birds nestled together in a nest Offering me the prized gift she clutched A teddy bear Two years later Gone. Bogeyman. Gone The two birds now possessed the freedom They were longing for Now parted from depression, abuse, neglect Like a train parting from the station That never returns Step dad Eyes that glimmer like diamonds The mind like Shakespeare And the mood of the Bahamas Sweat, Sweat. The savior who freed me from The wrath of the bogeyman and Presented me kindness in a way I haven’t experienced before.

Jordan Warren

Me and my dad sometimes watch a film or go to the cinema Together When I was young, my dad and I used to play video games Together I and my dad work on the car down in the garage Together I and my dad talk about cars all the time When we go on holidays we all get together and have fun Two years ago we bought a hamster and every week I get him out of his Cage In the summer we go in the caravan and play a game of Cards Last year we moved house I still miss my old home

Connor Smart 10V

The leaves crunch under my feet I stumble up the garden path With a boiling cup of coffee making me burn with pain I found him in the shed He always is. Doing some sort of experiment. I know he is grateful for the drinks He never shows it He only smiles, no words. I know what he means. He always says he should get out I always want him to. The day never comes He is always too busy. He hasn’t always been this way Ever since she’s gone he’s changed We are still close But only through actions There’s never much talking Between the two of us I

I wish she was here, he was happy then just wish it always that way I want to move out But could he cope alone? I will be 25 soon Still living with dad Ridiculous There are now more arguments His short temper doesn’t help I know we love each other I just wish he could open up And really, really show he loves me James Chant

Extract from ‘Atonement’ Review A tragic tale a about unconditional love and how it can be destroyed by a naïve and false accusation. Joe Wright’s moving take on Ian McEwen’s best selling novel ‘Atonement’ is anything but a disappointment. Any one who is unsure of the film, worried it wouldn’t live up to it’s highly loved book, should realize there is nothing to fear and book their seats to go see this up growing masterpiece. Following his directional débuts in 2004 with the heart warming tale of Pride and Prejudice, Wright’s talents have been shown off to the brim in this motion picture, winning awards for its stunning underwater cinematography in both the fountain scene and the gripping final conclusions. The film has been highly credited, picking up an Oscar for ‘best original score’ and being nominated for an impressive 6 others of the Oscar awards. It even had the honors of opening the Venice international film festival, making Wright, 35 at the time, the youngest director to do so. The film begins with 13 year old Bryony (Saoirse Ronan) who frustratingly misreads the blossoming relationship between her child hood crush Robbie (James McAvoy) and her sister Cecelia (Keira knightly). The opening events all occur throughout one day; things escalate and turn from a playful, light morning, to a dark dramatic night. Wight’s genius ongoing type writer sound effects occur frequently throughout the film, adding suspense and drama and leaving no need for a gruesome killer to jump out and yell ‘boo’ for the audience’s hearts to be racing. Bryony, the child eager to gain an understanding of love and its consequences, mistakes numerous acts of care and emotion between the couple for an abusive, bias and controlling relationship. With enough evidence and one mysterious act of what seems to be a serious criminal offense. The brilliantly portrayed misjudgments leave you heavily frustrated and with the guilty need to slap Bryony’s bittersweet character. Beth Sumecki Year 10

Meine Stadt durch Ben Edwards Ich wohne in Portsmouth. Portsmouth ist in Sudengland in Hampshire. Ich finde Portsmouth langweilig. Man kann schwimmen, kino und museum sehen. Ich habe film gesehen. es war “Knomeo und Juliet!�. Es war fantastisch. Ich finde der Park gut wo ich spiele. Ben Edwards Year 10

Meine Stadt durch Jacob Bailie Ich wohne in Portsmouth. Portsmouth ist in SudEngland und ist in Hampshire. Ich finde Portsmouth gut weil das gro_, modern und lebendig ist. Man kann ein film in Vue kino sehen. Vue kino ist in Gunwharf kai. Spinnaker turm ist in Gunwharf Kai. Das ist wei_, gross und super! Es gab noch ein kino und habe dorthin gesehen, aber das ist jetzt schlie_. Das war gut! Jacob Bailie Year 8

How do Plath and Blake present childhood in ‘The Chimney Sweeper’ and ‘Child’? Both Plath and Blake describe childhood in completely different ways throughout their poems ‘Child’ and ‘The Chimney Sweeper’. The writer, Sylvia Plath, describes her personal feelings and what she wants for her children by using personification. In stanza 1, line 3 Plath quotes ‘I want to fill it with colour and ducks’. The word ‘it’ represents her daughters life. However, in the poem ‘The Chimney Sweeper’ it’s mainly about or represents death and guilt. William Blake uses metaphors a lot in the poem ‘The Chimney Sweeper’. In stanza 3, line 4 it states ‘where all of them locked up in coffins of black’. This shows that the narrator’s friends are dead and in a coffin. The words ‘all of them’ shows that if you work as a chimney sweeper you’re likely to turn out dead; there were a lot of people working like this. In the poem ‘Child’, Plath is obviously trying to show that she loves her children very much. In line 1 she describes her child’s eye as ‘One absolutely beautiful thing’. This shows she thinks her beautiful child or children are beautiful and she wants the best for them. The word ‘beautiful’ suggests that the narrator’s child is pure and is one of a kind. On the other hand, in ‘The Chimney Sweeper’ they use ‘show not tell’ a lot. In stanza 3, line 2 it states ‘he had such a sight’ this shows that he saw something bad. The words ‘such a sight’ represent that it’s like it’s nothing like they have seen before. If this is the worst thing they have seen it would be quit a shock for them. This links to when it was so bad that the children had to work naked so they didn’t have to pay for clothes. Plath, in the poem ‘Child’ is trying to build up a picture that there is nope hope for them and their children. Sylvia uses metaphors to create a picture in your head. In line 3, stanza 4 it quotes ‘ceiling without a star’. This shows there is no hope for children as her as a mum. The word ‘star’ signifies hope and joy. This links back to when Sylvia Plath committed suicide because there is no hope. She made sure that her children were safe then she killed herself. Contrastingly, William Blake uses similes to describe the person he’s talking about. In stanza 2, line 2 it says ‘that curled up like a lambs back’. This shows that he’s sleeping like a curled up lamb. The word ‘curled’ shows that he’s cold and he wants to stay safe. This links to everyone’s life, because normally if you’re young you have curly hair. In the poem ‘child’ Sylvia Plath uses enjambment to show the two different meanings it can be used for. In lines 5-7 it says ‘April snowdrop, Indian pipes…little…stalk without a wrinkle’. This conveys that the two flowers are little and rare. Then the part that says ‘stalk without a wrinkle’

shows that the children are so young they haven’t turned to a developed person. The word ‘stalk’ symbolizes the child and it still needs to grow. Moreover, this links back to when she looks after them, if you don’t look after them they will get hurt and die. Just the same as if you don’t water a flower it will die, that’s why they have compared the children to a flower. However, William Blake uses different techniques to get his point across. In the poem ‘The Chimney Sweeper’ William Blake uses rhyming couplets. In every line there are rhyming couplets at the end like ‘young, tongue’ and ‘weep, sleep’. They use this so it’s like the poem is a nursery rhyme. Rhyming couplets are used to show the children are still young but their doing older jobs. William Blake wrote this poem in 1789, one year after the child working conditions act. Finally, both William Blake and Sylvia Plath use certain techniques to see how the audience interpret the text. Sylvia Plath hides most of the things she wants to tell you; you have to read the poem in depth. In stanza 3 line 3 it says ‘should be grand and classical’. This is representing her children’s life and how it should be. The word ‘should’ shows it’s not grand and classical or Plath would of used ‘is’. However, William Blake keeps his poems simple and easy to understand. In the last stanza it quotes ‘and so tom awoke…and are brushes to work’. This shows the whole poem was a dream apart from the beginning. The word ‘awoke’ conveys whatever anyone says the boys are still going to have to work in these conditions. By Frazer McLauchlin Year 8

Meine Stadt durch Sam Rappe Ich wohne in Portsmouth. Portsmouth ist in SudEngland in der nähe von Havant. Ich finde Portsmouth fantastisch und klasse! Man kann das Spinnakertürm sehen, es it gross! Man kann auch kino in Gunwharf Quay gehen. Es gibt ein sportszentrum es ist gut. Portsmouth hat viele andere sehenswürdigKeiten zu sehen. Es ist die beste! Sam Rappe Year 8

Meine Stadt durch Katy Lancaster Guten tag. Ich wohne in Portsmouth. Ich finde Portsmouth fantastisch. Man kann schwimmen gehen und ins Kino gehen. Es ist in der nähe von Southampton. Portsmouth ist in sud England. Auch es gibt die Spinnakertürm. Ich bin einkaufen gegangen ich finde Portsmouth super und aufregend. Katy Lancaster Year 8

Extract from an ‘Atonement’ Review Plot As the story begins to unfold just like the letter, the heart of the plot, your heart strings will be screaming an uninvited melody. A series of questions will bewilder your mind as the two main characters seem to be resistant to what is most desired but is it a naive young woman that composes this? Or just fate? Review If the stars fell out of the sky, what emotions would bubble to your surface? Well endure the shots skimming past your eyes and you will discover these, as well as enjoying a film that sympathises with the novel. Ian McEwan, the author of the romantic adaptation, is still materialised through each scene constructed by Joe Wright, which is rare for such talent. Due to much effort manufactured by each actor and actress, it has become a huge success and a global Oscar winning film. Saoirse Ronan (the young Briony Tallis) generated such huge recognition that secured Best Supporting Actress. Bewitching British actors and actresses such as James McAvoy and Keira Knightley, each playing a vital role, motivated the large amount of silver metal stored in Joe Wright’s cabinates after they formulated Best Original Score at the 80th Academy Awards. This is not the first time Joe Wright has been mesmerised by Knightley’s performance, as she also composed the star role of Wright’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Verdict A highly recommended film that incorporates complex, sophisticated and delicate shots to brainwash your mind. This coincides with gracious performances from James McAvoy and Keira Knightley to penetrate the real story and moral it was trying to compose, which was greatly achieved within the first five minutes of the film. Daisy Flood Year 10

The Ypres Salient (an extract) The Ypres trip from admiral lord nelson school was all about world war one and the tragic events of it. Whilst being extremely historical our trip was fun as well because we got to fun things like go bowling and get really muddy in the trench. Now there were only two countries involved in the war and it began the Austrian invasion of Serbia, however Germany promised to support their attack and so then they were in the war. Germany already had a huge part in the long term causes of the war as Britain and Germany were having an arms race which meant that they were constantly fighting to build, the best ship, the best plane and so on and so on so they had a big part. Another alleged long term cause was Germany being jealous of Britain and their vast empire. All the pink area is The British Empire, at the time we were the biggest and most powerful nation in the world and Germany wanted lots more than they had which was there country and a tiny part of Africa called Tanganyika. So they did not have a lot. The final major cause was of the two sides, the triple entente and the triple alliance.

The triple entente had us, the French, and the Russians whereas the Germans, Italians and the Austria Hungarians were in the central powers. All of these countries in these groups would defend each other if they were attacked in a military agreement; in fact entente actually translates as agreement. So after the invasion of Serbia began Germany’s invasion of France Belgium and Luxembourg so Britain had to intervene.

We visited Vladslow, one of only three German cemeteries inside the Flanders area. The Germans have to pay for the upkeep of their graveyards and the repair whereas the British get all of theirs for free. The Belgians really respected the British after the war and they still do today. After this we went to another German cemetery where most of the German bodies are kept. It was called Langemark. It had giant mass graves where they kept the soldiers who they did not know the names of. Both German cemeteries were different to the British ones because in the British ones they had only one name on each of the headstones, on the German graves they had about ten names on each one which means they must have been stuffed in with not a lot of love or respect. Both were very different and the German ones had massive oak trees just in the middle of the grave yard, which were to symbolise strength within the German soldiers. Some people thought it was a waste of time going to see the German cemeteries because they were our enemies. But the people who were in the graves were doing just the same as our boys, fighting for there country, which they were very proud of. They didn’t start the war and there would have been some teenagers there who died. My final conclusion on the German Cemeteries was that they were very gloomy and dark. Both of the ones we went to had spooky statues at the back, Langemark had four figures just stood there and Vladslow had a mother and a father mourning that they had lost their son.

I thought this trip really good because as well as learning loads and having a great time I made lots of new friends and I’m glad I went as I got a lot out of it. Alex Waites

Test page – hyperlinks Films by students at ALNS – click on an image to be taken to the film. John Whitney - Catalog (1961)

John Whitney - Permutations (1966)

The students from ALNS Are here to invite you all To see the work we can produce In this amazing school Years 7 to 11 come together To make the school become one So see what we can achieve And all the work we have done!

Work contributions by‌ Harry Andrews Sean Brophy Paris Billings Dan Cairns Lloyd Carr Harry Cookson Ryan Chandler Sophie Clarke Sophie Dennis Lauren Elliot Adam Lancaster Jack Metcalfe Ellie Middleton Daisy Quelch George Rentoul Brodie Ross Rayne Skora Elliott Smith Hayley Stannard Diproo Syed Man Yee Woo Collating work Jack Perryman Adam toy Jake McBurnie Daisy Flood Dan Cairns Charlotte Bleach Natalie Senior

Layout Matt Farrell Jay Liddell Maddison Ramsey Daisy Quelch Proof-reading Joe Flanagan Adam Lancaster Titles Adam Toy Adam Lancaster Harry Stacey Sean Brophy Caine Regan Artwork Sophie Bailey Connor Warren Taylor Ellis Man Yee Woo

Created by 10E1 Sophie Bailey Charlotte Bleach Sean Brophy Dan Cairns Sophie Clarke Sophie Dennis Taylor Ellis Matt Farrell Joe Flanagan Daisy Flood Olivia Houghton Ruksar Hussain Adam Lancaster Jay Liddell Jake Mcburnie Rosie Newton Reece peacham Jack Perryman Daisy Quelch Maddison Ramsey Caine Regan Natalie Senior Rebecca Simmonds Brodie Smith Harry Stacey Hayley Stannard Beth Sumecki Adam Toy Connor Warren Man Yee Woo

Labyrinth Of Literacy  

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