HOTSOFF THE PRESS 2014

This is a magazine containing contributions from children and young people being taught by Edinburgh’s Hospital and Outreach Teaching Service.

These children and young people might be:

• intheRoyalHospitalforSickChildren• intheSchoolroom,CAMHS,Tipperlinn• LookedAfter(andAccommodated)• Gypsy/Traveller/Roma• excludedfromschool• taughtathomeduetotheirmedicalcondition• taughtinoneofourEducationGroups• partoftheYoungMums’Unit

We hope you enjoy the magazine. Any feedback is always welcome.

Thankyouandwelldonetoallourcontributors.

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‘Ohno,notagain,’Janethoughttoherselfasthealarmscreechedloudly.

Shewasalreadyawake–notbecauseshewasreadytoseizetheday,butbecauseshehadbeenawakeallnightworryingaboutwhatwasaheadofher,orratherwhatwasnotaheadofher.Anotherday.Sherolledgrudginglyoutofbed.Hercoldempty flat seemed to enter her bodythroughthesolesofherfeet.Intheshowershetriedtoforceasmileandcaughther reflection in the glass door.AslowhourpassedinwhichJaneforcedherfaceintotheexpressionsthatpeopleexpected.CheerfulJane.HappyJane.InterestedJane.Thebittertasteofcoffeewastheonlythingable to properly get her ready fortheday.Drinkingcoffee

gaveherfacetheonlytruthfulexpressionoftheday.Whatkindofpersonwasshe,ifacupofcoffeewastheonlythingthatcouldmakehersmile?

AtherdeskagainshewaspretendingtobeBusyJane.Darkrainfellfromagreyskyand battered against the small squaresmudgedwindowthroughwhichJanehadlookedeverydayforthelasttenyears.Shelookeddownatherskirt,smart and stylish the sales assistant had told her; but that wasalloffiveyearsago.Janewonderedwhatpeopleactuallythoughtofher.Shewouldbetwentysevennextweek.Thepeeling,yellowishradiatortoherleftwheezedstaledustyair in her direction as it had doneeverydayforthelasttenyears.Shethoughtofherself

earlier,outofbreathafterhavingclimbedthethreeflightsofstairs to the office as she had doneeverymorningforthelasttenyears.Behindher,asuddensqueakingfromhercolleagues’chairstoldherthatMrMorvernwasdoinghisrounds,ashehaddoneeverydayforthelasttenyears.Tenyears.

Janesoondriftedoffintorawreminiscences.Asachildshehadn’tbeenunhappy;butshealsohadn’tbeenhappy.Growingupinafosterhomehadbeennofun,butasachildshehadfounditeasiertohavefunandeasiertoimagineherfuture.So,whatcouldmakeherfuturehappynow?Certainlynotthisjob.Growingupshehadimaginedherselfinvariousexcitingjobsasallchildrendo.Buttheseimaginaryjobshadn’tbeenbasedonanyskillssheactuallyhad.Whensheleftschoolandwasmoresensibleshehadtothinkofwhatskillssheactuallyhad.Therehadoncebeensomany‘if’sand‘if’seemedapositiveword,fullofpossibilities.Shehadalwayslikedschoolbuthadnevermanagedtosettleandfinishedfourthyearwithonlygrade4sand5s.Herfostermumhadtoldherthatshewouldbeluckytogetanyjobwithgradeslikethat.Fromthenon‘if’wasnolongerapositiveword.

AsuddenjumbleofhappysoundssignaledtoJanethatitwaslunchtime.Atfirst,shehadfeltluckytogetthisjob.Ithadmeantshecouldmoveintoherownflatandstartherlife.Butnowshedidn’tfeelluckwasplayingapartinherlifeatall.

Another Dayby Millie McLean – Chapter 1

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Didluckjusthappen?Ordidshehavetomakeluckhappen?

Janetookadeepbreathoffreshairandstartedwalkingroundthelakewhileeatingherlunchtimesandwich.Alightbreezetickledthewater’ssurfacecausingsmallwavestodance.Thesunsmileddownonthesedancerssoakingtheminsilverlight,reflectingtheirhappiness.Highoverhead,birdslaughedastheyswoopedthen soared up again into the blue.ThengreycloudsrolledinandJaneremindedherselfthatnothinggoodeverlasted;butthecloudsmovedonandthesunjustcarriedonplayingwiththewavesasifnothinghadhappened.

“Doyouwanttobemyfriend?”

Acurlyhairedlittleboywithahalfchewedbrightredlollipopinhishandwaslookingupatherandsmiling.Somethingtuggedatherheart.Yes,shedid.

“Lookatthat!”saidJane,pointing.

Aremotecontrolledtoyyachthadappearedfromnowhereanddriftedpastthemonitswaytowardstheotherendofthelake.Itswhitesailwavedgoodbye.Janewavedback.

“I’dlovetogoonarealyacht.DoyouknowthatIhaveneverevenbeentotheseaside?I’veseenitontheTVbutitmustbedifferent...”shesaid,turningandlookingdownatthelittleboy;buthehadalreadyrunbacktohisparents.

Mondaywaslooming.TherewasnoavoidingtheusualSundaycycletotheshoppingcentre.WithabigsighatthebusytrafficJaneputoutherhandtoturnleftofftheroundabouttowardstheneonlightsoftheshoppingcentre.Sheswervedslightlytoavoidhitting a shopping trolley on the road causing the man behind hertobeephishornloudly.Lightsflashed.Themanangrilyspedinfrontofherspittingoutabusefromhiswindow.Hisredfacewithnostrilsflaringandeyespoppingoutoftheirsocketsseemedtosearrightintoher.

Janepushedherbikeontothepavement.Shehadafewminutesfightingbackthetears and trying to get her breathingbacktonormalwhileshelockedherbike.Thenshewalkedthroughthesqueakingslidingdoorsontothefancymarblefloorofthecentrewithherheaddown.Shehadonherfavouritebootsbutshesuddenlyhatedthem.Shefeltahundredeyesonherbecauseoftheloudclackingshewasmakingonthefloor.Sheglancedupnervouslyandrealizedthatnobodywaslookingather.Nobody.ThenawarmlaughcausedJanetoturnaround.Awoman,smiling,onherphone,walkedconfidentlyintoanexpensiveclothesshop.Janewonderedwhoshewastalkingto.Herboyfriend?Herhusband?Bestfriend?Thewomandisappeared into the shop and wasgreetedbyasmilingsalesperson.

AsJanewalkedonitwasthestenchofstalegreasefromtheBurgerPalacethatgreetedher.Asmallmanfromthecheapperfumestallwalkedovertoher,gentlyguidingherwithhishandtowardshisperfumes.

“Doesn’taprettygallikeyouneedaprettyperfumelikethis?”the man said as he sprayed her withafoulsmellingconcoction.Hisgoldtoothflashedintheharshlightsofthemall.

Janeshookherheadandquicklywalkedawaytowardsthetoilets.Hereyesstungfromtheperfume.Atthesinkshebathedthemwithcoldwaterandthenglancedup.Amesslookedbackather.Puffy,bloodshoteyes,redhotcheekswithmascararunningdownherface,andbehindthisreflectiontwooldladiesgazingathersympathetically.Janegrabbedafistfulofpapertowelstocoverhertearsandwentasquicklyandunobtrusivelyasshecouldbacktothebikestand.Shecouldmakedowithtoastandbakedbeansfordinner.

Janedidn’tgotoworkthatMonday.OrTuesday.Ortherestofthatweek.Shedidn’tevenphonein.HerphonehadrungafewtimesonMonday.Shehadn’trepliedandithadnotrungsince.ByThursdayshehadmadehermindup.Theemptyfridgeandcupboardshadhelped,orforcedhertodecide.Sheslippedanotethroughherlandlord’sdoor,withdrewallhermoneyfromthebank,stuffeditinherbackpackandheadedtothe station to catch a train to the coast.

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National Poetry Day October 2013 This year’s National Poetry day was all about water. At the beginning of the lesson, Gillian showed us the Water Cycle because it was linked with the theme. We looked at many different kinds of poems. We looked at a poem written in Gaelic and then read it in English. We also listened to poems including the Loch Ness Monster’s Song.

We all read out our poems that we had chosen. Then we made up our own acrostic poems all about different types of water, here they are:

Loch Rippling Softly Waterfall

Acid Rain Burning Animals

Kayak Drifting Together

Embrace a fish life Everyone

Reunite

Lakes lie still

Overflowed with water Over the world

Choking with life Cold and Cautious

Help it screams Everlasting and eternal

Ageless and Alluring

Never-ending

We were surprised to discover that National Poetry Day occurs every year and that the theme changes. We really enjoyed the theme of water.

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Inthatmoment,thegleamofthe amethyst in my palm shone intoeverycornerofthedim,half-decoratedroom.IwasinthewomanIoncecalledaunt’shouseseekingouttheyearsofhiddentruthsthatlayinsideit.Thesilverringclaspedthegemtightly,afraidofbeingapartfromit.Asifenoughhadn’talreadybeenseparated.Moreliketornandbrokenintwo.Liketherestoftheroom,thevelvettheringhaduncomfortablynestledinto,sagged,tiredandwornfromtheweightofthesecretburiedwithinitsfolds.Tentatively,IloweredthelidofthechestbutthegentlenessofmyactionsurprisedmeasIdidnotfeelanycaretowardsitatall.Thethickcloakofdustontopofitwaseasilyreplaced,Isweptalayerfromtheshelfaboveandsmotheredtheboxonceagain.There.Thesinistertranquillityoftheroomwasrestoredbutwithadifference.Iheldthevital,sparklingpieceofthatdarknessthatcouldnowreturntoitsrightfulowner.

Iopenedmyhandagaintoseethebeautifultwinkletheringgave,eveninthepoorlight.Itwasthesametwinklethatmymother’seyeshadhad,ever-present through my childhood butsincethatday,onlyinherbestmomentswhichwerefewandfarbetween.Now,notatall.Asingletearholdingathousand

memoriesslithereddownmycheekbutIwasquicktoreassuremyselfthatalthoughitwasladenwithsadness,somepeacewasnowtobefound.Ialwayswonderifmymotherwasevergoingtotellmethestorybehindhersorroworthereasonwhysheheldherhandlimply as she stared at her ring finger,theabsenceofthejewelleryalltoomuch.Themissingpiecewasdrainingtheenergyfromher,herdaysspenthopeless,frailwithillnessevenbeforeshebecamesick.Shehadonlyunlockedthestorytomefromthedarkatticinherheadwhenshewasatherweakest,certainherdeathwasimminent.Mymotherhadalwayspredictedeventswellthough,hadn’tshe?

AlthoughIdorememberbeingtherethatday,Iwasyoungandwasobviouslytooshelteredfromdeceittounderstanduntilthen,whenthedoorintothatknowledgewassharplyforcedopenandsmashedmyinnocence.Iwas,however,aninquisitivechildandwascurioustoknowwhymyfatherhadbeenmissingfromhomeforawhileandhadstolenmymother’shappiness.Theywereallgatheredinthekitchen,mymother,fatherandaunt,theatmospheredensewithuncertaintyonmymother’spart.Icouldseetheymust

havebeenunpleasantlywarmbecausedripsofcondensationrolleddownthewindowfromtherecentcooking,stillleftonthestove,routineinterruptedbythisabruptvisit.Carefully,Ihadperchedmyselfontheedgeofastepofthetall,windingstaircaseandwhenIthoughtmoreaboutthesituationlater,wassurprisedtheyhadnotnoticedme,mypalecomplexionagainstthedarkwood.Myfatherstarted,slow,tryingtobediplomaticwhenmyaunt,irritatedbyhishesitation,cuthimoff,anunusuallyharshtoneinhervoice.Alongargumentfollowed,solongitbecamejustarattletomyears.Ihadzonedoutfromwhattheyweresaying,myeyestransfixedonthecreasesofconcernonmyfather’sfaceandasomewhatguiltyexpression.Thefierceblueinmyaunt’seyeshadmademyheadspin,thecolourasharshastheblankwhiteofherskin.Mynightmareofadaydream,myshield,wasshatteredwithapiercingshriekthathaderuptedfrommymother.

Ithadbeenablurthroughthetearsthathadwelledupinmyeyes.Abang.Metalhittingwood.Asoundnottoodissimilarfromwhenmymotherdroppedthekeysonthesidetablewhenshereturnedhome,thoughthatwasawarmermemory.Ihadgasped,gapingatherringfinger.TheonlytimeIhadseenitbarebeforewaswhenshehadletmetryiton,pretendingtobeaprincess.There,ithadbeencrushedofalltheaffectionbythewordshissingfrommyaunt’stongue.Mymotherhadslumpeddown,hershouldersheavywith

The Ringby Amy Sinclair

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griefwhilemyfatherlookedon,hiseyesunfeeling.Ihadn’tbelievedhewascareless,hewasclearlyjustnumbfrommyaunt’sout-of-characterappearance.Determinedtoshakemyfather’sblankstareoutofmymind,Ihadburiedmyheaddownintomylapandhummedmymother’sfavouritetune,Ididn’tknowshewouldneverdancearoundourhometoitagain.Myauntwasstopped dead in her malicious confrontations,shehadseenme.Iremember,shehadthrownherhandsupandwailedthatIhadseentoomuch.ThepurplebeautyoftheringwassnatchedupbythewomanIhadnowilltocallmyauntanymoreandtheyhadleft,ithadonlyfeltlikeanexitinaplay,justfiction.

Ourhomenowmymother’sandmyhouse.

Thatwasit.Justlikethatandtheyweregone.Ihadburiedmyangerandexchangeditforthecareofmymum.Iwasstillcaringforhernow,thisringwillbereturnedtoherafterallthistimeofsorrowandsickness.Icouldn’tgiveitbackwiththestalecoldnessofthenightmarelingeringonthesupposed-to-beeverlastingpromisethough,Iplaceditsnuglyonmyfinger,mylovelockedintoit.Thewarmthofmyloyaltywouldstaywithherforever.TheicycoldofoutsideonceIsteppedoutoftheequallyemotionlesshouse,clutchingthering,wasnowbracinginsteadoftheunforgivingchillthatIwasavictimtowhenIsteppedin.

Shecouldnowfinallyrestinpeace.

What is…the Moon?

Themoonisabrightwhitemarble rollingacrossablackfloor

Itisasilverbullet shotintothenightsky

Itisasilverhook catching a grey cloud

Itisaslimshinysliver– apencilcurveonpaper

Rory Kemp

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Marvel Comic (Anger)by Jack Hedley

JackHedley,inP7atStockbridgePrimaryusedComicLifetomakeanamazingMarvelstylecomic,explainingangerandwaysofkeepingcoolunderpressure.

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Thelittlechildfoundhimselfinagloomy,forebodinggraveyard.Helookedaround,stoneandearthsurroundinghim.Theboyknewheshouldn’tbethere.Somethingtoldhimtorun,tofleethisplaceoffearanddeath.

But his legs became cement and hisfeetseemedtorotintotheground.Hisinsideschurnedasiftheywereinawashingmachine and his palms started tobecameclammyandshaky.Theboy’sbreathingbecameshallowasthepalefaceoflightfromthefingernailofthemoondisappearedbehindthedarkclouds.

Suddenly,theboynoticedafiguremovingoutthecornerofhiseye.Hewhippedroundandsawthefigureafewmetersawayfromhim.Themoonreappearedfromthemistymassesandtheboy,inthedimlight,sawapale,tall,well-builtman,withjet-black,wellsleekedbackhairandabeautifulpristinecape,thecolourofredwine.Thatorblood.Crimsonredblood…

Thefigurewasavampire.

Theboy’sheartracedasthebeinglookedupathim.Thevampire’sfang’sshotoutintoplace and he suddenly started

towardstheboy,cacklingasheran.

The child stared at the creature racingtowardshim.Adrenalineshotthroughhisveins.Fightorflight?Flightorfight?

Flight.

Theboygaveayelpandallatonce,hiscementlegsbecamesoft,workingmuscleandskin.Hebegantorun,hetookflight,unsureofwheretorunto.Theexitwasbehindhim,thewallstoogreattoclimb.Wherewashetogo?WhatwouldhetellpeopleIFheescaped?Hethrewthesequestionsawayashekepttryingtoescapethevampire,hislegshadalifeoftheirown.

Theboyhastilylookedoverhisshouldertoseeifthecreaturewasstillafterhisblood.Thevampirehadvanished,likeScottyhadbeamedhimuptotheEnterprise.Theboywhippedround,laughing.Hehadescaped!

Orsohethought…

Justastheboywasgoingtopullthebrakesonhiswhizzinglegs,heknockedintosomethingandflewbackwardsintothesoftturfbeneathhim.Dazedandconfused,heslowlybutsurely

proppedhimselfupontohisshoulders.Stupidbranch.

Asherubbedtheeggshapedlumponhisforehead,ashadowcrossedhisframe.Heflippedoverontohisfront,toseetheoutlineofthevampire.Astheboy’svisionsorteditselfout,hecouldseethefaceofthiscreatureofevil.Thevampirehadasmileplayingonhislips.Notoneofhappiness.Butoneofsatisfaction.

Thevampireedgedcloserandcloserandclosertothechild,astheboy’seyesfilledwithfear.Allatonce,thevampirelungedtowardstheboyandsankhispristine,pearlfangsintotheneckofthechild,suckingthecrimson,creamybloodoutofthevein.

Theboytriedscreamingout,buthisvoicedidn’twanttoleavehisbody.Hetriedtostruggle,buthisarmsandlegswantedtorelax.Relax…

Relax…

Black.

The Chaseby David Chipakupaku

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Madagascarby Euan BeveridgeEuanBeveridgeresearchedandmadeanexcellentKeynotepresentationallaboutMadagascar.Hereispartofit.

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Wearesurroundedbynegativemessages.Assoonasyoufinda grey hair on your head you havetodyeit.Youhavetobeacertainsizetowearthatoutfit.Youhavetobetonedlikethatmodelonthatadvertisement.Negativebodyimageisanissuethatisonlygettingworse.Themedia should stop promoting it andstartpreventingit.

Whenyouwalkalongastreetthemediaisinyourface.Advertisementsonthesideofbuses,taxisandbussheltersdisplaying unnatural images ofbeauty.Shopwindowsfilledwithmannequinsthatarenotthesizeofanaverageperson.Pharmaciesadvertisingdietpillsandcosmetics.Innocentpeople are being bombarded

withalloftheseideaswherevertheygo.

Whenthetelevisionisswitchedonweseethesamething.Celebritiesareconstantlyappearingwearingnexttonothing,convincingustolookthatway.CarynFranklin,formerClothesShowpresentercommentedonthis:“Youngwomendonothaveenoughfemalerolemodelsshowingthemactionorintellect.Intheir place are scantily clad celebrities.Sadly,youngwomenarewronglylookingtofashionforsomeguidanceofwhatitistobefemale.”

Menareaffectedjustasmuchaswomen.AstudyfeaturedinSeedmagazinelookedatonehundredandeightyfourmalecollegestudents.Whenthestudentswatchedmoretelevisionandmusicvideosresearchersfoundthatthestudentsfeltmoreself-consciousabouttheirappearance.

Onmagazinesyouwillfindthateverypageisfullofpicturesdisplayingfalsebeauty,persuadingyoutolookthiswayandbuytheproductbeingadvertised.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder by Chloe Duenas

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However,theeditorofVogue,AlexandraShulmanarguesthiscase:“Allwearedoingisshowingimagesofwomenweregardasinterestingorbeautifulorfashionable.Butwearenotsayingyouhavetobelikethis.”

Ifthiswastrue,whynotshowanaveragepersonnotmaskedinmakeup?Whyisitthatwefindpeoplewholookunrealisticmoreattractive?Wehavebeenledtobelievethatbeautifulmeans altering our appearances tobecomesomethingthatwearenot.

The truth about images produced by the media is thattheyarefake.Themodelsand celebrities that appear everywherehavesatthroughhoursofhairandmakeupto then be manipulated by a computeronPhotoshop.Itisnotpossibletojuststumbleoutofbedandlookthatway.Theseimagesaredistorted.KaseyLSerdarquoted:“Therehasbeenaplethoraofresearchtoindicatethatwomenarenegativelyaffectedbyconstantexposuretomodelsthatfulfiltheunrealisticmediaidealof

beauty.”TheBritishMedicalAssociationalsoagreethatsuchimages are not healthy: “The degreeofthinnessexhibitedby models chosen to promote productsisbothunachievableandbiologicallyinappropriate.”

Asaresultoftheseviews,peoplearebecomingill.Theportrayalofbodyimageleavesmanypeoplewithlowself-esteem,andagrowingnumberofpeoplesufferingfrommentalillness.Thisissueisaffectingyoungchildrenaswellasadolescentsandadults.

“Weareseeingchildrenasyoungassix,sevenandeight-years-oldwhoareexposedtopicturesofthinmodelsfromaveryearlyage,”quotedbyDrDeeDawsonwhotreatschildrenwitheatingdisordersatRhodesFarmClinic.Nochild should be so concerned about their appearance that theyendupwithanillness.Youngergenerationsarebeingbrainwashedbythemedia.DrAdrienneKeyfromtheRoyalCollegeofPsychiatristsagreesthatthemediaismakingpeopleunwell:“Thereisagrowingbodyofresearchthatshowsthe media plays a part in the developmentofeatingdisordersymptoms–particularlyinadolescentsandyoungpeople.”

Undoubtedly,somethinghastobedone.Iftheseimagesaredepictedanylonger,howwillthenextgenerationseethemselves?Insteadofinsistingthatthepubliccoverthemselveswithbeautyproducts,themediashould encourage people to

enhancetheirnaturalbeauty.Weshouldnotbetoldthatgrowingoldisunattractive,itisaperfectlynaturalthing.Thefashionindustryshouldhire models that are a healthy weightandstopcallingaveragesizewomen‘plussize’.RobynLawleywhoisclassedasa‘plussize’modeltriestopromotehealthybodyimage:“I’vebeentryingtodojusttheopposite:Iwantmythighstobebiggerandstronger.Iwanttorunfasterandswimlonger.Isupposewealljustwantdifferentthings,butwomenhaveenoughpressureasitiswithouttheaddedburdenofachievinga‘thighgap’.”

Theissueofnegativebodyimage is influenced greatly by themedia.Ofcoursebeingself-conscious about appearance wouldexistwithoutthemedia,but it is heightened by pressure fromtheillusionofperfection.Weshouldnotbefrightenedofageing,orfeelasifwehavetobeacertainshape.Insteadweshoulddecidewhatbeautyisandacceptwhoweare.Weshould not let industries decide forus.

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John Anger

JohnBullochcreatedthisabstractlifesizepaintingwhichshowshowhisbodyfeelswhenheisangry.

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ThisChristmastheyoungpeoplefromCAHMSschool-roomallworkedtogethertoorganise a charity raffle to raise moneyforEdinburghYoungCarersProject(EYCP).WedecidedonthischarityaswewantedtosupportotheryoungpeopleandsomeofushavehadexperiencewithEYCP.

OncewehadallagreedtosupportEYCP,wethendesignedraffletickets,contactedEYCPandwroteletterstolocalbusinessesaskingthemtodonategoods.

Nextafewoftheyoungpeoplewentoutintothecommunitywiththeirletterstoaskthelocal

businessesforgiftsfortheraffle.Weallenjoyedthispartevenifitwasabitnerve-rackingattimes.Theoutcomewasworthit,aswereceivedgenerousdonations.

Thefollowingshopskindlydonated:

• TheMulberryBush• Nippers• Waitrose• Lucas• DominionCinema• ToysGalore• Domino’sPizza• TheEdinburghBookshop

Thelaststepwastoprinttheticketsandthensellthem.We

soldtheticketstofamily,friendsandhospitalstaff.

TherafflewasdrawnonTuesdaythe17thofDecember2013.Weraised£360forEdinburghYoungCarersProject.ThemoneywasusedtobuyChristmaspresentsforyoungcarers.

Designed by Caitlin Dorrian

Designed by Jo Clark

CAMHSCharityRaffle

Designed by Molly Greene

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The Museum on the Mound

by Dylan Robertson

ThedayIvisitedthemuseumonthemoundwithSarah,Iputonepenceinamachineanditcameoutadifferentshape.Therewasabookletthathadabigpoundcoinonitandabigpoundcoininreallifeandyouhadtodrawoverittogettheshapeofarealone.Themillionpoundswasmadeupoftwentypoundnotes–therewerefiftythousandtwentypoundnotesinamillionpounds.Youcouldn’thavestolenthembecausetheywereinabigglasscase.Ithas‘cancelled’stampedonthemtoshowyoucan’tgetthemsoldtoshops.

Therewasasafeandyouhadtoguessthecodeforfivebitsofmoneychocolate.Igotthechocolateinonego.WesawtheQueen’sbigredchairwithacrownonthetopofit.Itsaid‘don’ttouch’soIdidn’t.TherewasamodelthatyoucouldbuildofthebankfrombigbitsofplasticlikebigLego.Theworstthing–IlostmyfiverasIhadaholeinmypocket.Funny–Isawamillionandlostafiver.

£1,000,000

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Hehadtogetaway,hecouldn’tbethereanymore.Hehatedthisdate.Ayeartodayhisdadhadjustdisappearednevertobeseen.Hekeptseeinghismumcurleduponthecornerofthecouchjustashehadsneakedoutofthedoor.

Ashewalkeddownthewetpavementthecoldairhitagainst him chilling him to the bone.HecametotheheavyIronGatethathadrustedwithage.Nobodyeverwentintothatcemetery,theysaiditwascursed.Curiositybegantobuildupinsideofhim.Hepushedopenthegateandwalkedalongthewetgrassandtookinthe

deepsmellofmossandage.Hecouldn’tseeathing.Itwastoodark,gloomclungintheairandtheboystartedtohavesecondthoughtsaboutbeingthere.Suddenlysomethingmovedwithintheshadows.Fearoverwhelmedhimandallofasuddeneverythingjustseemedthatlittlebitmoresinister.Hespun round on his heel and brokeintoasprint.Heheardthewhispersofthegravestonesandthemockingofthetrees.Intheblinkofaneyeashadowyfigureappearedinfrontofhim.Hecouldn’tseemuchbuthesawenough-palecomplexionandsharpcanineswereenoughtomakehimturnandrun.Little

didheknowitwastoolateandhehadnohope.

Hecouldhearthefootstepsquickeningbehindhimandbeforehecouldtakehisnextbreathhewasyankedback.Hebarelyhadachancebeforehecouldfightback.Thesharpdeathlyteethsankintohisneckdrainingeveryinchofhislifeoutofhim.Deathhadcome,peaceatlast,orsohethought…

A Sinister Storyby Natasha Stevenson

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Thiswasn’tmytypicalSundaynight.I’mnormallyrelaxedandnotnervousatallbutthisspecificSundayIwasnervousandmymindwasnon-stopthinkingaboutallthepossiblesituations that could happen thisweekahead.

TwoweeksbeforeIhadbeentotheschooltogetworkandmy guidance teacher had told meaboutworkexperience.ShesaidIhadtodoitbutitwasmychoicewhereIwantedtogo.IimmediatelyknewwhereIwantedtogo.

AssoonasIgothomeItoldmymumallaboutmyday.ItoldherabouttheworkthatIgot,Ialsomentionedgoingonworkexperience.Shethoughtthatitwasagreatideaandthatitwouldboostmyconfidence.IsaidthatIwantedtogotoGingerbread.Gingerbreadisaloneparentorganisationwhichprovidesadviceandsupportforsingleparents.

ThenextagaindayIwentuptothemainofficeatGingerbread.Ispoketothebossandshesaid

thatshewouldbedelightedformetodomyworkexperiencewiththem.Iwalkedouttheofficeandfeltabitofrelief.Ifeltlikeabigweighthadbeenliftedoffmyshoulders.IwassogratefulthatIwasallowedtodomyworkexperiencewithGingerbread.TherewasnowhereelsethatIwantedtogo.

Leadinguptomyworkexperience,thecloseritgotthemorenervousIfelt.Icouldn’tstopthinkingaboutallthethingsthatcouldgowrong.

OnthefirstdayofworkexperienceIwentstraightuptotheofficetospeaktothestaffandtofilloutinformationinmyworkexperiencebooklet.Istartedat2:30alongwiththreeotherstaffmembers.Ifeltlessnervousasthetimewenton.Isatdownwiththeplayleadermanagertogooverall the rules and to set my day todaytasks.OnMondayIwasintroducedtohealthandsafetyandgottoknowthechildrenandparents.Ihadtosetmyselfthreetargets.Minewere:

1 Confidence2 Attendance/commitment3 Findoutaboutallthatis involvedinchildcare.

Isettheseasmytargetsbecausethey all mean something to meandIknewthatIwouldbechallengingmyselfbutIalsoknewthatIcouldaccomplishthem.

Therewassomuchinformationtotakeinandtoremember.SomeofitwaseasytorememberbutsomeofitIhadtore-readforittomakesensetome.

Work Experience

by Lisa Reid

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Tuesdaywasalittlebitdifferent.Iwasn’tasnervousbecauseIroughlyknewwhattoexpect.Iwasdoingsnackwithanothermemberofstaff.Snackisn’tjustaboutgettingthefoodready.Youhavetomakesuredaysbeforethatyouhavetherightamountoffoodforthatdayandenoughjuice.Onthedayyouhavetomakesureyouhaveeverythingreadyontime.Youalsohavetochecktheallergyandinformationsheettocheckwhoisn’tallowedtoeatthesnackthatdaybecauseofcertain medical conditions or religious/culturalbeliefs.Snackwentverywell.Mostofthekidswantedit.

Oneofthelittlechildrenhadanaccident.Myselfandthefirstaiderforthatdayhadtotakethe child to the toilet to change him.Ihadspentabitoftimewiththischild,buildingupatrusting relationship because thedaybeforehestartedcryingneartheendofthedayuntilhismumcametocollecthim.IbuiltthisrelationshipwithhimbecauseIdidn’twanthimtogetupsetagain.Ithinkthatbyspendingtimewithhimitgavehim enough trust in me to let metakehimtothetoilet.

ThenextagaindayIfeltquitenervous.Iwasonsigningin/outandheadcounts.AlthoughIwouldbeshadowedbyanothermemberofstaff,itwasstillquiteconfusing,rememberingwhosemum or dad is at the door and doingaheadcountevery15minutes.Doingtheheadcountandsigningin/outwashardtodoatthesametimebutIhad

allthestaffhelpingmewhenIneededtheirhelp.ThestaffmemberthatwasshadowingmewouldalwaysmakesurethatIhadsignedthechildrenout at the right time and they doublecheckedtheheadcountaswell.AttheendofthedayIfeltconfidentenoughtodotheheadcountsandsigningin/outbymyself.

Thursdaywasexcitingforme.Itwasmydaytodotheactivity.Isetthetableup,gotthepaint,paperandwaterready.Theactivityhadalreadybeensetforthatday,Ididn’twanttochangeitsoIdidthepaintingtask.Iletthechildrenusetheirownimaginationwhenpaintingtheirpictures.Mostofthechildrenthatpaintedaskedtodoanotherpicture.Iwasmorethanhappyforthemtodoanotherpicture.Ithoughtthatthetaskwentreallywell.Iwasverypleasedwithmyself.

WhenIfilledoutmybookattheendofthedayonepartsaid‘Iwould/wouldnotliketodothiskindofajobforalivingbecause…’IcircledIwouldbecauseIreallywanttogointochildcare.Ihavealwayswantedtoworkinanafterschoolclub.Ihave

been interested in childcare foryearswhichiswhyIwenttoGingerbread.

AssistwiththeriskassessmentandthefiredrillwereFriday’stasks.Thefiredrillwentverywell.IwasonlyonworkexperiencesoIdidn’tgettodoallofthefiredrillmyself.Ishouted‘fire’thengotthechildrenlinedup.ImadesureIhadthefirstaidkit,themedication,thesigningin/outthen led the children outside to thefurthestawaywall.Istoodin-betweenthechildrenwiththeothermembersofstaffwhilsttheplayleadershoutedoutthechildren’snames.

Fortheriskassessmentmyselfandthestaffmemberdelegatedtothetaskwentaroundtheroomcheckingeverythingonthesheetandmakingsureitwasallhowitwassupposedtobe.

AstheweekwentonIfeltlessnervous.IstillgotalittlenervouswhenIhadtodocertaintasksbutIstartedtofeelmoreconfident.Ifeltthatthestaffhadalotofconfidenceinmeandthatthenhadpositiveeffectsonme.IlearntalotaboutmyselfandgainedalotmoreconfidenceatGingerbread.

Myfutureisdefinitelyinchildcare.IwouldlovetoworkatGingerbread.AtfirstIthoughtthatIwantedtoworkwithbabiesandtoddlersthenIdecidedthatIwantedtoworkinaprimary.BeingatGingerbreadhasmademerealisethatIwanttoworkwithallages.

22

Heknewwhathewasgoingtodo.Hehadsetboobytrapsallaroundthehouse.Hecouldseetheboygraduallymovingclosertowardshishouse.Hefeltangerandexcitement.Howdaresomeonekicktheirballintohishouse?Peoplewereactuallystupidenoughtothinkthathewasdead.Helaughedtohimself.Theboywasgoingtohavethemostfrighteningexperienceofhislife…

**Charliegulpedashelookedupattheabandonedhouse.Hewasshakingwithfearbutheknewhehadtogogethisfootball.Thehousecreakedasthewindblew.Charlieshivered.Thehousewasamystery.Nobodyhadbeeninsideitforyearssincetheownerdiedaverystrangedeath.Everyonewastooterrifiedtoevengonearthehouse.

Heputonefootinfrontoftheotherandwalkedatinystepclosertothestrangehouse.Hedesperately needed to get his footballback,itmeantsomuchtohim.Helookedatthegroundandnoticedthereweremudfootstepsonthepathway,whichmeantonlyonething…someonewasinthehouse.

**Hegrowledwithanger.Therewasanotherstupidkidstaringathishouse.Hewatchedthechildfromahiddenwindowandchuckled.Hebouncedthefootballinhishandsandlaughedagain.Hewasgoingtomakesurethiskidwentthroughhell.

**Charliesighedashethoughtaboutthefootball.Abouthowmuchitmeanttohim.Heknewthatifhedidn’tgetitback,hewouldbedevastated.

Charliehaddecided.Hewasdetermined.Hewasgoingtogethisfootballback,nomatterwhat.

Charliewasnowbythestepstothedoor.Hetookadeepbreathandpushedit.Tohissurpriseitwouldn’tbudge.Hesatdownonthestepsandthought.Hewasn’tactuallysurewherehisfootballwas,buthewascertainithadfallenthroughthebigholeintheroof.

Charlienoticed,outofthecornerofhiseye,thatthegroundfloorwindowwaswide

open.Hewalkedovertothewindowandpusheditopenevenmoreandclimbedthroughit.

**Heheardthewindowclosewithabangandchuckled.Hemadehiswayuptotheatticandsatdowninfrontofthehundredsofcomputerscreens.Heopenedapacketofcrispsandbeganmunchingonthem.Hewatchedthecomputerscreenslikeahawkwatchinghisprey.Thestupidboydidn’tevenknowthathewaswatchinghiseverymove...

**Charlielookedaroundtheoldhouse.Itwashardtoseeanythingasitwassodark.Helookedaroundforalightswitchandturnediton.Charliegotthefrightofhislifewhenheturnedaround,andwasfacedwithastatueofascreamingangel.Hewasshakingwithfearandhisheartwasbeatingatarapidpace.Theangelhadanevillook

The Abandoned House by Chloe Mantle

23

A Sinister Event

By Hilary Elliott

Roorie was alone in the old, dark cemetery. Ahead, the sky was dark and gloomy, shadows of spider’s webs appearing on crumbly gravestones.

Roorie stopped. What was that? A movement. Over by the chapel. A sinister flicker of red in the moonlight. Blood red.

Roorie’s heart was pounding in his small, tight chest, and it seemed as though his body was quivering with fear.

Another movement – close, this time. Footsteps. A man’s stature silhouetting in the darkness. Closer. A beam of lightning illuminated the old cemetery, revealing the man’s face: pale, as white as milk. With hair as black as the coals in Roorie’s fireplace back home. And the eyes. Such daunting, dark eyes which would haunt you forever.

Suddenly, the man lurched forwards, sprinting towards a petrified Roorie. The man was gaining on him! He was so close now that Roorie could feel the breath, pricking up the hairs on his neck. Roorie stumbled over a rock, he could feel his body falling – falling to the earthy ground, tumbling into darkness, crazing into death.

The man’s teeth sunk deep into the helpless boy’s neck. Spasms took over Roorie’s body, jerking uncontrollably through his muscles, the poisonous venom seeping into his bloodstream, until finally, Roorie, limp and now lifeless, lay quite still, as dead as the once-people buried under the ground around him.

aboutitanditfreakedCharlieout.Henoticedsomestairswhichweredrapedincobwebsandwalkedtowardsthem.

**Helaughedwithexcitement.Hewassoamusedbythefactthatthisboyhadnocluewhatwasgoingtohappen…

**Charliefoundhiswayupthestairs.Hewalkedalongthecorridorandoutofthecornerofhiseye,noticedsomethingshiny.Curious,hewalkedtowardsit.Hewalkedintoaroomthatwasfilledwithsheetscoveringthings.Onthewalltherewasaverydisturbingportraitofanoldman,holdingaskullinhishand.Charlieshiveredatthesightofit.Helookedaroundtheroomandfoundtheshinythingthatcaughthiseye.Thetipofitwasshowing,sohepushedthedirtysheetaway,andgaspedwhenhesawwhatitwas.Asword.Thetipwasshinybuttherestoftheswordwascoveredinwhatlookedlikedryblood.Charliestartedtofeelanxiousandhispalmsbegantogetsweaty.Hisheartwasracing.Heturnedaroundandsawsomethingmovebeneaththesheetscoveringsomethingtall.Hewalkedbackwardsawayfromitand bumped into another tall thingcoveredwithasheet.Hescreamed.Charliewasterrified.Hehadtogetoutoftheroom…

24

Kirstystoodatthekitchenwindowstaringoutintothefrostygardenclutchingherwarmcoffeecup.ShehadbeenstayingatherfriendCasey’shousesincetheaccident.Afterfinishinghercoffeeshemovedtothebackdoor,wincingatthecoldtouchofthedoorhandleunderherwarmhand.Shesteppedoutcautiouslyintothewhitegarden,thegrasswasblanketedwithalayeroffreshfinesnow.Reachinguptotouch the rippled icicles hanging overherhead,sherealisedthatitwasthefirsttimethatshe’dbeenaloneinawhile,actuallyithadbeenawhilesinceshe’devenbeenoutside.Sheshiveredat the thought tugging her warmhoodiearoundherthinframe.FeelingadeepsadnessinthepitofherstomachKirstyturned,trudgedbacktothewarmpromisinglightspilling

fromthedoorwayoutontothe garden path and sat on the couchthinking.KnowingshewasstayingatCasey’shomeforareasonbutshecouldn’tfindthemeaningshedidn’tactuallyknowwhyshewashere.

Afterashortwhile,thetelevisiondroningoninthebackground,Kirstywasstillsat on the couch mindlessly tappingherfingersonthecoffeetable.Lettinghermindturnandlookbackshefiguredthatalthoughsheenjoyedbeingblissfullyunaware,shelikednotknowingbutatthesametimeshecouldn’thelpbutwanttoknowthehorribletruth.Shehadalwaysbeenlikethis,forevercurious.Whilstthinkinghermindcaughtonthewordfamilyandnomatterwhatshedidshecouldn’tgetpastsuchan

insignificantword.Suchatinyword.TheEnglishlanguageisaverypowerfulthing.Oneword,somanymeanings.ThinkingofherfamilyshearosefromthesoftcouchanddecidedthatitwasfinallytimetoleaveCasey’swatchfuleye.Packingwhatlittlebelongingsshehad,hermindwanderedbacktothesummer.Sheallowedherselfamemory.

Feeling the sun glare onto her face Kirsty slipped back into the stairwell of the flats she was staying in. It was her very first house alone and her family had temporarily moved into a neighbouring flat to support her until she got back onto her feet. They were meeting her downstairs for an outing to the beach in the heat.

Standing in the doorway Kirsty shouted up the stairs to her father and her younger siblings enquiring if they needed anything from the shop before they set off. Upon hearing no reply she set off down the road. Being seventeen years old she easily passed for eighteen prompting her to buy cigarettes, soft drinks for the kids and a magazine for the car

Remembering Summerby Natasha Johnston

25

journey along with an array of unnecessary items. Chatting to the shopping assistant Kirsty exited the tiny air conditioned store into the warm heat, humming a tune in her head and swinging her shopping bags around her legs.

Turning the corner Kirsty was met with a loud crack. Ears ringing, she fell to her knees and let out a cry. The shopping bags hit the floor and the cans of soft drinks made contact with the pavement instantly bursting and spilling lemonade everywhere.

PhoneinhandandrucksackatherfeetKirstysatonaroadsidebenchwithherheadinherhands as an attempt to calm her breathing.Herhandsslippedoverherearsasthedullhumofmemories played through her head.Shehadtokeepmoving.UnsureofwhereshewasgoingsomethingclickedinKirsty’saching head and she turned around.Shecouldn’tquiteputherfingeronitbutsomethingwaspromptinghertotheblockofflatssheoncecalledhome.Actingonimpulsealoneshenavigatedthroughthefrostystreetstofindherwayback.Itfeltgoodtobefree.Shelaughedtoherselfandtouchedafrozenplantbythepath.Itwascold,itwassoverycoldbutthewarmthofthememories playing in her head distractedherfromthebittercoldthatwasnippingatherfingers.

Kirsty’smindwasdriftingasshecrossedthestreettowardstheblacktopthatwasonceherhome.Confidentlysteppingoutacrosstheblacktop,anoise

rattledthroughherears.Afamiliarnoise.Itwasthecreakoftheswingsetsettlingasasmallgirljumpedoffandrantocatchupwithhermother.Itwasonlyanoise.Justanoise,butKirsty’sheartjumpedandshefroze.Therewasnothingthere,sherecognised that and the noise hadstoppedbutitwassuddenandthecreakreverberatedthroughherears.Therewassomethingaboutit,justatinydetailshecouldn’tputherfingeronitbutsheknewthatitwasimportantsoshemadeherwaytothelittleredframe.

Onceshereachedtheoldframeoftheswingset,shefeltapangoffamiliaritydeepinside.Touchingtherustedredframesheimmediatelyknew.Thisredframewasthesameframethatshehadrestedagainstwhenshewaswatchingherlittlebrotherandsisterswingashighastheycould.Theverysameframethatthe paramedics propped her up againstforstabilitytotakeherbloodpressureandcheckherobs.Thememoriesdriftedbackfasterthanshecouldhaveeverimagined.

Struggling, gasping for breath, Kirsty pulled herself to her feet and swayed. Dizziness came over her in waves so she just waited until she felt she was stable enough to walk there was a pain in her arm that was indescribable. It hurt so much but she carried on. Her eyes darted around as she tried to figure out what could make such a violent sound and from where it came. Ears still ringing she made her way back to the safety of home. Turning the

corner stumbling away, unsure of where her mind was wandering to. She reached her corner and stumbled through the smoke billowing from the remnants of her home. Her head was pounding, she had hit it when she was knocked down. The block of flats that once stood proud and tall lay in crumbles and pieces, there were people screaming everywhere. Paramedics, Fire Service, and Police vehicles were littered around the place. Soon enough a paramedic came towards her at a rush but cautiously, asking if she lived in the block. Kirsty couldn’t answer, stunned, she let out a whimper and began to cry. The paramedic explained that an occupant in the centre of the building had a major gas leak and as a result there was an explosion and he needed to assess her to see if she was hurt. He propped Kirsty up against the nearby swing set. Kirsty barely heard a word, but nonetheless she allowed him to bandage her bloody head and look at her right arm. Still whimpering it dawned upon her that her family was gone. Completely gone. She was all alone. It was so hot, Kirsty found it hard to breathe and slipped out of reality as the paramedic slipped the oxygen mask over her face and bundled her into an ambulance.

Shefeltawful,sittingproppedupagainsttheswingsetinthesame position as the paramedic hadher.Holdingherheadinher hands it all came flooding back.Shenowknewwhathadhappened.Shehadfilledthegap in her memory that taunted herforsolong.Kirstysatinthe

26

coldsnowforhoursandhoursrememberingfeelingtheheatfromthefirelickingwhatwasleftofthebuilding.Rememberingtheheatonherface,shedidn’tevennoticeherfingertipsslowlyturningavagueshadeofblueandherbodyshakingviolentlywiththecold.Kirstyflickedapieceofhairfromherfaceandcaughtsightofafamiliarfigurerunningtowardsher.

Caseyappearedfromnowhere,unawareofthetimeKirstythoughtsheshouldhavebeenatworkwheninrealitytheskyhaddarkenedtoadisgustinggrey-blackanditwasfarlaterthanshehadthought.AsCaseyheldherKirstycouldn’thelpbutwhisper“It’sgoingtobeokaynowisn’tit.”

WarmingherupCaseytookcare,tip-toeingaroundthesubjectoffamilyandwhathadhappened,butKirstychatteredaway,stillfeelingthecold.ItappearedasthoughshewasnothearingawordthatCaseywassaying.Shewaslostinherownhead,trappedinhermemories.TakingtimeKirstycreptbacktonormality-takingbaby-steps.Shestartedtonoticethingsaboutherself.Likethetinyscarthatresidedonherforeheadjustatherhairlineandthescarthatdraggedlengthwaysupherrightforearmfromthesurgeryrequiredtofixthebrokenarm.SoonenoughshebegantospeakagainandfoundrefugeinCasey’sarmsmostofthetime.

Theonlywaywasup,andshewasgoingtomakeit.Shewassosureofit.

Rory’s Haikus

Purple crocusesDancinginthewarmsunlight

Adarkgreycloudlooms

MyfingersgonumbFreezingslushysnowdriftspast

Flickeringredflames

BeautifultulipsSpringingfromthedampdarkdirt

Purple,pinkandred

RedandorangeleavesGentlyfloatdownandsettle

Makingamberpaths

YellowsunflowersTiltheadstothegoldensun

Watchingthesunset

27

Bang!Smash!JonneyheardhismumSCREAMING,“You’relookingthewrongway!”ThensuddenlyinaflashJonneygothitat40milesperhour.Thecarstoppedinstantly.Jonneywasscreamingandshouting,“HELP!”ThedriverjumpedoutofhiscarandphonedanAmbulance.Hesaidtothelittleboy,“I’msosorryIhityou.”Thedriverwasinfearincasehemadetheboydisabled.Jonney’smumranoverasfastasshecouldandsawherson’slegscoveredinbloodandhisbonesstickingout.“MumIcan’tfeelmylegs!” TheDoctorsinthehospitalsaid,“Wehaveneverseenaninjurylikethis.”HismumsaidtotheDoctors,“Ishegoingtobeok?”ThentheDoctorsaid,“Itis50/50.”SuddenlyJonney’sattitudechanged.Thenhesaid,“Idon’tneedyoumum,theDoctorsarehere,sojustgo!”Hismumwasconfusedbutshesaid,“Itmakesmesadbutyoudon’tfeellikemysonnow.” Jonneybecamemoreandmorenastybytheminute.HeshoutedattheDoctors,“Idon’tneedyou,Icandoitmyself!”HepickedupneedlesandjaggedalloftheDoctors. Onthesecondthrowhehitthemonthebackoftheneck.

Insecondstheywereonthefloor. Jonneychoseredandblackcoloursforhisstooky.Hestartedtodrawevilpicturesonhisstooky.Thedyewentintothewoundsofhisslashedlegs.Itroseandchanged his blood into the son ofthedevil.ThenJonney’sbraingottakenoversohestartedtogocrazy.Hespraypaintedacarsaying,“Thedeviliscomingtokillyou!”Hepoppedthetyresandsmashedthelocks. ButJonneystillhadapieceofhisbrainthatwasnotevilsohestartedtorememberthings.Becausehewassofocusedonlookingatthehousebelongingtotheownerofthespraypaintedcar,

heranontoaspeedwayandwashitbyanothercar! Hisstookysmashedintotinypieces!Theplacethatwasnotevilstartedtocomeback.Butthebloodofthedevil’ssonwenttohisheart.ThenJonneydiscoveredthatthecarwhichhadhithimwashismum’s!Jonneysaid,“Iloveyoumum,”thenhepassedoutandhispulsestopped. Jonneywokeupinhospitalwithtubesalloverhisbody.Hewassoluckyhesurvivedbuthepaidtheultimateprice,hehadtwobrokenarmsandlegs.Hesaidtohismum,“Thankyousomuchmum,whenyouhitmewithyourcarthedevilleftme!”

The Evil Stookyby N D

28

Shestaredintothedarkness.

“Who’sthere?Mum,Dad.Isthatyou?”Clairewassuddenlyatthetopofthestairs.

“Oh,darling,wedidn’tmeantoscareyou.”herMumsaidasshefelloverthestairscomingup.“I-Iwasn’tscared,mum.”Clairesaiditquicklyalthoughshealmostwetherpants.

Tommythencameoutofhisroomsaying“Ha-ha.Clairewetherpants,You’reababy,you’reababy.”

“OhI’mgoingtokillyou!”Clairesaid so madly chasing her little brotheraroundthehouse.

“GettobedyoutwokidsIhaveaheadache.”Mumshouted.

ClaireandTommyrushedtotheirroomsquickly.

ThenextmorningClairewoke-upandthoughtaboutlastnight.“IknewIheardsomeonefromdownstairsbutitcamefromthebasementandMumandDadcamefromthekitchen.’Clairehadhersuspicions.

Aboutamonthlatersheheardtheverysamenoise.

Clairethoughttoherself,“There’sthatnoiseagain”.Clairewasyetagainatthetopofthestairs.”Ah”,Clairescreamedasshegotpulleddownthestairsbywhatseemedlikenothing-thinair.Shewaspulleddownto the basement and the door slammedshut.

“Claire,Claire.”Claire’sMumandDadshoutedafterher.Alltheycouldhearwastheterrifiedscreamandcryofthechild.Theyfeltcompletelyhelpless.

Just sitting there next to the basement. Rosalenda their

housekeeper tried to wake them up.

ThenextdaytheirhousekeepercameinandfoundClaire’sMumandDadsittingontheflooreyesshut.Justsittingtherenexttothebasement.Rosalendatheirhousekeepertriedtowakethemup,“Sir,SirwakeupMadam,madamwakeup”,criedRosalenda.

Rosalendawasveryconcerned.Shewasnotsurewhathadhappened.Suddenlytherewasanoisefromthebasement.

“Uh,Claire,Claireisthatyou”,Claire’sMumcried.

“YesMum,issomethingwrong?”Clairesaidunnaturallyassheemergedfromthebasement.Clairehadredeyesatthismomentwherebeforeshehadsoftblueeyes.

“Claire,ClaireI’msogladyou’reok.Howareyoufeeling?Whathappenedtoyoudownthere?Howdidyougetbackuphere?Weneedtotakeyoutothehospital.Theycancheckyouover.OkClaire?”Claire’smotherspokeveryfirmly.

“NO!”Clairesnappedbackathermotherasifsheknewhermumwasontoher.

“YESyouwill.I’mnottakingnoforanswer,socomeon,getyourstufftogetherandgetamoveon,”Claire’smumsaidsharplyandveryfirmly.

Clairethengrabbedhermother

The Demon Inside Meby Nina Slater

29

bytheneckandsaid“IsaidI’mnotgoingtothehospital.Doyouunderstandme”,Clairesaid as she plunged her sharp nailsintohermum’ssmallwhiteneck.Shejustsimplydroppedhertotheground.

“Isaiddoyouunderstandme?”Claireshoutedinhermum’sface.

“Crystalclear,”hermumsaiddelicately.

“Good.Nowgetupinsteadofjustsittingthereandgoandgetmesomethingtoeatnow.I’mhungry!”declaredClaire.

Claire’smumgotupquicklyandwenttothefridge,pickingoutClaire’sfavoritefoodbutunfortunatelyClairedidn’tlikethenormalfoodthathumanslikedanymore.

“Whatisthis?Iaskedforfood,”Clairesaidsharply.

“It’syourfavourite,mac‘n’cheese,”Claire’smumsaidsoftly.

“IwantBLOOD!AndIwantitnow!”Clairewasveryangry.

“I’msorry,Ijustthought…”

“Justthought,justthought.Welldon’t...goandgetmesomeblood,”Clairesaidfuriously.

“Okbut…”

“But...But.WasthatabutIjustheard?”

“WellYes....”

“Uh,no!Goandgetmesome

from.....oh.....Idon’tknowAHOSPITAL....Gonow,”Clairesaidnastily.

“O....o...ok.Iwillbefiveminutes,”Claire’smothersaidnervously.

“Wellmovequickly,”Clairesnapped.

“Claire,makemybreakfast.I’mhungry!”Tommydeclaredashewalkeddownthestairs.

Claireturnedaroundindisgust.“WhatdoyouthinkIam?Yourslave!”ClairesaidthisinanangryvoiceasifTommywastoknowsomethinghadhappenedtoher.Buthedidn’tbecausehewassoundasleepwheneverythinghappened.

“Yes,youheardme.Nowchop,chop.”Tommysaiditquicklyandsnappily.

Clairepickedupthechairshewassittingonandwenttohit

herlittlebrotherwithit.“Nopleaseno.Ididn’tmeantobenastywhenIsaidthat.I’msorry.You’remybigsisterandIloveyou,”Tommycried.

ClairethenloweredthechairbutnottohitTommy,justtoputitontheground.Clairethenstartedcrying,tearsofbloodrollingdownhercheeks.JustatthatverymomentintimeasTommywasgoingtogiveheracuddleandtellhereverythingwouldbeallright,somethingstoppedhim.Henoticedanimageorashadowcomingoutofhissister’sbody,abitofablackishcolour,thenitjustvanishedandClairefelltothefloorwithanastythump.Tommytriedtowakehisbigsisterupbutshedidn’tsayathing,notanastyword,notevenanastyfacepulled.Nothing.Shejustlaythere.

“HiClaireareyoufeelingbetternow?”Tommysaidhappily.

30

Craigwasdigginginthegardenwhensuddenlytheforkstruck

something.Hecouldn’tseewhatitwasbutforsomestrange

reasonheknewthathislifewouldneverbethesameagain.Heputhishandintotheearthandsuddenlyhefoundamagicsword. Craigwasreallyhappy.Hewas23andhadgingerhair.Heworeagreent-shirtandjeans.HehadasistercalledLaurenandshewas27andshewasverykind.Shehadlongdarkhairrightdowntoherwaistandwasquiteslim.

Craighadsneakedintoarichman’sgardenandduginthemudnexttothetreestoseeifhecouldfindtreasure.Themudwaswetandstickybecauseitwasarainyday.Hehadfoundapieceofpaperinthestreetwhichtoldhimwheretodig.

Hedidn’tfindtreasurebuthefoundamagicsword.Itwasaknight’sswordanditwasveryshiny.Godhadleftitthereforhimtofind.Itbegantoglow.Hefoundoutitcoulddoanythingwhenhetriedtochopatreedownandthetreeturnedintoahouse.

HemadeaBMWbluecar.Hissisterdecorateditwithfireandapictureofasword.Theywentaroundtheworldtofeedpoorpeoplewiththefoodmadefromthesword.

Allthepoorpeoplehadthebiggest and nicest houses in the wholeworldandtheymadeaspellwiththeswordsonobodywaseverhungryagain.

The Miracleby Arafat – Longstone Primary School

31

Pous lay doun in the sunsheen tae dovereftirhisbrakfasto’birseltchoukieanscrammelteggs.

“TWEET!TWEET!”“TWEET!TWEET!”

Itwizthebluebunnetscominbacktaenestagain.Thiswiztheyearhewidhinderlyclauchtababbiebluebunnetforhisdenner. Saxweeksefter,fowereggshadhatchit,anpouswizclimbinuptherone-pipetaethenest.Whenhewizawmaistthare,hehaurdaCRAIK,thenaCRACK,thenwiasuddentie,pouswizdanglinfraeabrakrone-pipe.ThenawhappinSPLASHashedrappitintaethegairdendub.

Theneistdaypouswizinchinhiswaydounthesclateruiftaethenest.Herauchttheroneandleukitdounandsee’danooziepauchlewithfowerscreichinnebs.Aspousrauchtoothisspag,hisairsecowpitowerhis

heidandhetummleddounwiaSPLOSHintaethebirdiebath.

Theneistdaypouswizbuncinup and doun on the gairden trampolinewhichhehadjuststancedablothenest.Ilkabunceteukpouscloserandcloser tae the nest till his spag titchtit.Justonemairbunce!But pous buncit tae hard and wentfleeinthroughtheairandowerthehoosewi’aWHINNER.ThenwiaCRASHhelanditintheneeboursdugkennel.

Theneistdaypouswizinthegairden ludge buildin himsel a cattie;thedayefter,thecattiewizready.Hehaledbackthecahootchie and sat doun in the chyre.PING!Againpouswizfleein straucht throu the air tae thenest.Pouslickithislips.Soonhewidbeeatin’atuithsomebabbiebluebunnet.SPLAT!Pouscrashitintaethewindaean

sliddertdounintaeaflouerpot.

Aneweekefterpouzwizhoverininahelicopterabuinthenest.Helookitdoonansee’dfowerpudgetiebirdieshappitwifeathers.Pousfleedclosertillhewizrichtbythenest.Hereachitoothisspagtaeheftitilkabirdieanfindthemaistgurthie.Pouzchuisedaneanpickititupbythecuff.CHUG!PUT!CHUG!PUT!Pous drappit the birdie an birlt throutheairanrattletintaeatree.

Theneistdaypouswizinthehooseettlinhisneistattack.

“TWEET!TWEET!”“TWEET!TWEET!” Pouslookitupansee’dfowergrowedbirdieslookininthewindaewhilelauchinanpyntinthereweeweengs.Pousfoondertontaethefluiranfelltaesleep.Neistyearhewidgitthaim…

Cheetie-Pousie an the Blue BunnetsSelina Sode-Woodhead

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WeareinthemidstofoneofthebiggestdebatesevertobediscussedatHolyroodandWestminster.AtopicthatdividesScotland–independence.Doyouwantindependence?Istronglybelievethatabreakfromtheunion,ayesvoteforindependence,wouldbetheworstdecisionwehaveevermade as a country and only the firstinastringofirresponsible,riskyandunnecessarydecisionsthatareundoubtedlytofollowsendingusdownadarkroadwithanuncertain,unstablefutureforScotland.AlexSalmondpreacheshowan

independentScotlandwillleadtoabetter,strongerScotlandbutheiscomingupwithalistofpromisesthatareunlikelytobepossibletowrapyouroundhisfinger.AlistairDarlingiscertainthatabreakfromourbigbrother,Westminster,willbedetrimentaltotheintegrityofScotlandanditsstrength.

Myfirstpointisthatatthemomentwegetthe‘bestofbothworlds’thatwewilldefinitelyloseifwebreakfromtheUK.Toprovethispointissimple.Notonlydowehaveasayinthevastmajorityof

eventsinScotlandwithourScottishParliament,Holyrood,makingdecisionsaboutthingsimportant to us as a country but wealsoreapthemanyfinancial,socialandculturalbenefitsofbeingpartofabigger,morediverse,picture.ManypeopleunderestimatehowmuchsayScotlandgetswiththerunningofourcountry.YesScotlandsaythatthemainbenefitofbecomingindependentwouldbe our increase in say about the runningofourcountry: ‘The reason being independent willbebetterforyouandfor

Scottish IndependencePersuasive Essay

by Jo Clark

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Scotlandissimple.BeingindependentwillmeanthepeoplewhocaremostaboutScotland–thepeoplewholiveinScotland–willbetakingthedecisionsaboutourfuture.’–yesScotland HeretheydeceitfullymakesitsoundlikewehavenosaywhatsoeverintherunningofScotlandwheninrealitywehaveplenty.Wehavecompletecontroloveraffairsinhealth,ourfishing,oureducationandoursportsandarts.

AlexSalmondhasnoplanBintermsofcurrency.AlexSalmondsaysindependenceisinScotland’sbestinterestsbutlosingthepoundwoulddefinitelynotbeputting‘Scotland’sinterestsfirst’.Formanypeoplewhetherwestaywiththepoundornotintheeventofindependenceisabigdecidingfactor.Butthefactthatwehavenotbeenprovidedwithacurrencyplanleadsmetoaskonceagain,whatarewevotingfor?Wehavenotbeengivenaclear,fullinformationandwhatwehavebeentoldhasholesalloverthegameplan.GeorgeOsbornehasmadeitveryclearthatacurrencyunionintheeventofScottishindependenceiscompletelyoutofthequestionmeaningthatwewouldlosethe pound:

‘IfyouleavetheUK,youleavethepound’–GorgeOsborne(ChancelloroftheExchequer)

Thismeanswewouldhavetwochoices,jointheEurowhich

wouldbeprettydisastrousconsideringthemesstheEuroisinormakeourowncurrencywhichisveryrisky.Thisisyetanothermajordecision,maybethemostimportant,thathasnotbeenmadewithfewerthan200daystogoutillthereferendum.This sends alarm bells ringing andshowsonceagainthatAlexSalmondismakingitupashegoesalongleavingevenmoreambiguityinwhatyesvotersareactuallyvotingfor:

‘AlexSalmondcan’tgetawayfromthefactthatnomatterhowmuchblusterwegetfromhim,thathecan’tanswerthemostimportantquestion–whatcurrencyarewegoingtouse?…AlexSalmondjusthasn’tworkedoutthebasicfacts’–MargaretCurran(bettertogethercampaign)–BBCnews

There are many undeniable socialandculturalbenefitsof

beingintheUnionthatareatstake.TherearemanythingswetakeadvantageofbeingintheUKfromteamGBtotheBBC.Wewouldlosethewell-lovedBBCthatprovidesusnotonlywiththebestofBritishmediabutalsoeducatesuswithhappeningsdownsouth.WewouldbewavinggoodbyeteamGBthatbroughtus65medalsasopposedtothemere13wewouldhavegotwithouttherestoftheUK.Whataboutfinancialbacking,financialaspects?Officialfiguresshowweget£62bnfromEnglandbutgiveonly£45bnbackmeaningwegetasubsidyofatleast£17bnayear.Thatisalotofmoneytobereplacedandwithnomentionoftaxrisesoranything,whatarewegoingtofillthatgapwith?Nounion,noBritisharmedforces,noBritishmusic,no British art and many other thingsthatwewouldthrowoutthewindow,nevertobeseenagain.

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Liz Itwasanormal,casualSundaynightwatchinghorrormoviessuchastheCandyManandChucky.AsusualIgotreadyforbedandrememberedthatIhadn’tshutthewindow.IfeltweirdlikesomethingbadwasgoingtohappenIdidn’tknowwhatitwas.AsIwaspullingthewindowtowardsmeIjammedmyfingerinit.Itwasagony!ItwassosorethatIforgottocheckthedoorwasshut.

JohnAsIwaswalkingtomyfrontdoorIsawthatmyneighbour’sdoorwaswideopensoIdecidedtogoin.IwasgoingtoalertthepersonbutthenIthoughtaboutallthethingsIcouldspendtheirmoneyon–abrandnew50inchTV,alaptop,thelatestclothesandNikeshoes.IlookedinherhandbagandsawaniPhonesoItookitthenrummagedinherjewelleryboxandtookherCocoChanelnecklace.

LizIheardanoise.Ididn’tknow

whatitwas.IthoughtIwasgoingcrazy.SuddenlyIsawashadowinthehallway.NowIwasthinking‘soI’mnotcrazyafterall!’Ileaptoutofmybedbutthepersonranaway.Theymusthavebeenquick!IfeltlikeIknewtheperson.Ifeltlikeitwasallaweirddream.IsawthatmyGuccibagwasopenandthatmyjewelleryboxwasbroken.Iwenttophonethepolicebutcouldn’tfindmyiPhone.IfeltsuspicioussoIdecidedtogonextdoortomyneighbourtoborrowhisphone.

JohnShe’scomingupthepathway!Mynerveswereexplodinglikeafirework.Ididn’tknowwhattodosoIconfessedthatItookitall.Theexpressiononherfaceshowedthatshewasshocked.Ifeltguiltyandashamed.Iapologisedandgaveherpossessionsbacktoher.IwantedtomakeituptohersoIdecoratedherhouse.Wegottoknoweachotherreallywelland ended up getting married andhavingtwochildrencalledBenjaminandVictoria.

The Burglary by Juliet Scheffler (Brunstane PS)

Inconclusion,withoutadoubtScotlandshouldstaypartoftheUK.Whychangethingswhentheyarerunningsmoothly?IfeelveryproudtobeScottish.IfeelveryBritishalsothoughandIwouldbedevastatedifIhad my British identity robbed ofmeintheeventofayesvote.Ourmountainswon’tcrumbleandourlochswon’tevaporateifwestayintheunion.Youcouldthinkoftheunionlikeanarmy.Anarmyof60million(theUK)isstrongerthanoneof5million(anindependentScotland)withoutadoubt.Notonlydoyouhavestrengthinnumbersbutyoualsohavediversity.Youhavemanydifferentpeoplespecialisedindifferentthings,withdifferentskills,withdifferentbeliefsandbackgroundsbutbringthattogetherandyouhavesomethingquiteextraordinary.Astrong,securefightingforcewithmillionsofidiosyncrasiesas opposed to a homogenous mass:

‘BeingpartoftheUnitedKingdomisgoodforScotland,andScotlandbeingpartoftheUnitedKingdomisgoodfortherestoftheUnitedKingdom’–DavidCameron

60millionindividualswithonethingincommon.TheUK.

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WedidlotsofworkwithourHOTSoutreachteacherandwemadeaboardgamewhichwecalledTheTask.Ithelpedus learn our times tables andimprovedourspelling.NeartheendofouroutreachsupportwemadeaKeynotepresentationaboutallwehadlearned,whichwepresentedtoourclass.

OUR GAME – The TaskBy Declan Anderson and Louis Davidson

Imademygametohelpbuildtheplayers’self-esteemandthat’swhyIcalledmygame‘Esteemily’.

FirstmyteacherandIplayedadifferentself-esteemgameandwemadenotesofwhatwelikedanddislikedaboutthegame.Thenwestartedtoplananewgametobuildconfidence,andIdesignedaboardabitlikeMonopoly.InsteadofmoneyIcreatedtokens.

Wegotideasfortheself-esteemandproblemcardsfromthefirstgamewelookedatandchangedthemtomakethemmoresuitable.Weaddedfitnesscards

(forexamplestretches).MyteacherandIthinkmygameis so good that my school gets

acopy,myteachergetsacopyandIgetacopy!

ESTEEMILYby Rhys Cassidy

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