Category: Writing

The need to call her, to contact her, to be with her is too strong. Ever since I left for sailing camp the thought of calling Alyssa has been on a constant loop in my mind, building speed like the trains that pull out of Grand Central Station. So much could change if I make the call. I mean she might decline or hang up as soon as she hears my voice, but if she didn’t; we could fix things. Our special bond, our family, and David, who I still haven’t spoken to since he broke my sister’s heart. Everything is on the line here. If this goes wrong I may as well just give up all hope of ever being family to her again. It’s worth a shot though, right?

You know what, screw it! I’m done wondering. I need to show her that I do care. Ever so much. She is the most important person to me in the whole world, and my love for her is everlasting. I’ll go now. Go to the dorm mistresses office, rap my knuckles on her hard polished oakwood door and enter with an air of authority. When she opens it I’ll tentatively ask for my cellphone. ‘One call a day.’ she’ll tell me and I’ll just slowly nod my head as I back away. But what if after all of that she just declines my call. The waterworks might start, and then I’d be the laughing stock of sailing camp and she would never know. That’s the heartbreaking thing; I know she cares. Deep down we still have our connection. The thing that whether we like it or not will keep us bound together until death. The blood that runs thicker than tar.

My feet, however, don’t seem to correspond with my brain. They feel awfully heavy as I drag my legs off my batman bed and slowly make my way towards the door. I need to change those sheets, they’re much too little boyish for me. After all, Lyss and I are nearly 16. Only a few months until we can drive. In New Zealand being 16 means you’re ‘legal’, whatever that means, so I guess there’ll be that too.

The unwieldy metal door of our bunkroom slams shut behind me. Its rubber lining squeaking as it connects with the soundproof strip inside the door frame. Footsteps echo out across the silent hallway, the soft patter of my worn-out trainers. The building is deserted, the rest of the kids attending this camp are either tucked up in their rooms, studying or more likely watching Netflix. I make my way out into the courtyard. A handful of students are gathered around the shed cleaning their gear from earlier today. My wetsuit and boat shoes have already been rinsed and are hung up on the camp washing line, so now is technically my free time.

The dorm mistresses office door stands, waiting, only two meters ahead. My feet stop in front of it, sensing a lack of motivation from me. “Come on!” I whisper to myself. This is so ridiculous. Alyssa doesn’t want to talk to me. “No! You can do this”. I take a long deep breath filling my lungs up with as much air and as much courage as possible. Raising my trembling fist, I rap on the solid oak door.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Goldilocks. She went for a walk in the forest. Pretty soon, she came upon a house. She knocked and, when no one answered, she walked right in.

At the table in the kitchen, there were three bowls of porridge. Goldilocks was hungry. The porridge looked so good. She knew that there was probably someone waiting to eat this porridge but it looked so good. So, ignoring her thoughts, she tasted the porridge from the first bowl.

“This porridge is too hot!” she exclaimed. It burnt her tongue. Her stomach growled, she was still so hungry. No, you can’t a little voice in her head advised. Oh shut

So, she tasted the porridge from the second bowl.

ADDED DETAIL

• What can I do to ease pain – conflict because he feels guilty about something that he didn’t do. He wants to be able to help
• How –

1. I went to the shop on Monday morning.
2. My favourite colour is purple.
3. The house was creaky, old and damp, but I wasn’t scared.
4. It was a cold and rainy day; they’re safe in their car.
5. “He’s my favourite,” mum said.

1. I could picture the smooth oval of Laura’s face, her neatly pinned chignon, the dressed she would have bee wearing

The Race

The race is about to start. Penny’s breath pounds in my ear. I can feel her slim stomach rising and falling beneath my legs. 30 seconds left before the starting gun. I bend to adjust the timer that is strapped tight around my black boot. The gun sounds and I’m off.

My hand tightens on my handles, as I kick mud at a bush that is sitting close by. How could I be so stupid, to leave my bike in such obvious view of my little cousin? I should’ve known she would want to take it out. Now it’s in pieces, and I have lost because I can’t go on. I am such a sad sack. Because of my little cousin.

Stuck. Almost as sad as a solitary wolf in mud. Without its mum. My foot slips out of my boot. It hurts. I call out to my bro.

“Nothing there!” said Peter, and they all trooped out again – all except Lucy. She stayed behind because she thought it would be worth while trying the door of the wardrobe, even though she felt almost sure that it would be locked. It surprised her when it opened quite easily, and two moth-balls dropped out.

They turn right. The high hedge curves into them. the interest around the table sharpens palpably: Some stiffen, others start to fidget, all of them gaze at snape and Voldemort.

They pick up the main road a little after 10 o’clock. the sky has clouded over now and the little warmth there had been in the January sun has all gone. But inside the Volvo, it is like summer. Ben has turned down the heating when his mother isn’t looking twice, and twice Justine has cranked it right back up.

This morning I woke up, wrapped in my cosy sheets. Slowly, I untangled myself, crawling into the kitchen where my breakfast was waiting for me. My dad had prepared my favourite meal, eggs, bacon and lots of sausages were spread out over the bench. I wasn’t feeling very hungry so I only ate a few eggs and not very much meat. All I could think of was getting back to my nice warm bed.

A branch snaps beneath me, losing footing, I stumble. Pain shoots up my leg spiralling upwards. Trees cast dark shadows across the woods. I look down to see that a shoelace is stuck under the previously broken twig. Oh wait, that’s mine.

• Good: the woman
• Bad: the man
• Appearance:
• woman = wavy honey-coloured hair, that hangs carelessly at her shoulders, she wears a plain black singlet, tight black jeans, and a simple belt. her boyfriends flannel shirt is wrapped around her.
• man = a stiff straight apron, wrinked blue jeans and a black shirt pinned up at the sleeves. has muddy brown hair. posh watch.
• actions:

Life was tough, being the incredible Hulk. He had a tiring week (as per normal), but today was his day off. Walking the dog was increasingly becoming one of Hulks favorite things to do on a Sunday morning. On the dot of 8, Hulk’s alarm would start vibrating, and he would slowly roll over slam his clenched fist onto the off button. Unfortunately, Hulk had broken many alarms like this over the course of his life, and he had become a regular customer in the alarm clock isle at his local warehouse. For him, waking up to an alarm was like waking to the sound of Groot’s arm snapping, painful and unnecessary. Hulk had a carefully planned out morning routine. He liked to get up throw his dog Lucy a bone as fat as a tree trunk, this seemed to keep him busy until his walk. After pulling on his sports shorts, hulk poured himself a glass of milk the size of a normal persons swimming pool. At 9 o’clock, Hulk and Lucy would set off on their morning walk through the fog of New York City.

first person

• I
• my
• me
• myself
• mine
• we?
• us
• our
• ours
• ourselves

third person

• he
• she
• them
• it
• him
• her
• they
• persons name
• themselves
• we
• their
• himself
• herself
• itself

• Tell: the boy was sad
• show: Squeezing his eyes tight against the tears that were threatening to spill. Brian’s vision blurred, and his shin connected with the hard metal handle of the lawnmower. in the silence that followed, his sobs were lost in the already damp grass. His fingernails left marks in his palms as he slowly uncurled his fists, pushing his palms against the damp grass. His body felt like lead.
• Tell: The dog wanted to go for a walk
• Show: His bark echoed through the house as soon as I opened the door. I sunk to my knees, as he squashed his soft face into my hand. He shook his tail at me, and bounced away. His body disappeared behind the couch and only the white tip of his tail was in vision. Returning with his lead in his mouth, he dropped it into my knee and looked up at me with pleading eyes.
• Tell: the temperature fell and the ice reflected the sun.
• A shiver went down my spine, as I closed the door behind me, trapping the warm air inside. My hands fumbled to find the zip on my puffer jacket, and my attention elsewhere, my foot lost contact with the concrete and connected with a patch of shining ice.