Cemetery By Isaac T

Finally the movie had finished.  As my friend and I walk our separate ways home,I looked down at my watch and realise I’m going to be late for dinner. My parents will be worrying where I am.

Increasing my pace  to a slow run I approach the cemetery. Stopping in front of a massive iron gate I have to decide whether I have the courage to transverse through the cemetery to get home in time for dinner. With my heart pounding and increasing dryness in my throat I slowly walk through the entrance. Alert to every slight sound, jumping at movements created by the shadows of clouds scudding past the full moon my heart beat even faster. Petrified of what might be around every turn, I hurry past dusty and battered gravestones standing in the grass, as the wind howls in the night sky.  

Sprinting around a corner a dark figure suddenly looms up in front of me. Stifling a scream I realise it was only a statue next to the exit gate. Rapidly I shoot breathlessly through the exit back into a normal street.

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I look around to get my directions and start trudging towards home as I start to get my breath back. Walking through the front door, Mum exclaims, ”What ever happened to you? I thought you were going to the movies.” In a weary voice I say “ I tell you all about it over dinner!”     

Bully and Bystander By Chloe NC

Curiosity floods my body as I hear the tremble of a small voice echoing for help. The shouting of the crowd keeps rising louder and louder but the silence and tremble of the quietest voice stands out the most.

 

I see a boy standing there as the crowd hangs back shaking in fright. The fury of this boy makes him a bright red while the grin on his face is sickening. I think to myself why, as fear suddenly spreads from person to person like a deadly virus.

 

I slowly let out an encouraging smile towards the victim. He looks away with a flash and I think he might be gathering his thoughts. The victim slowly stands up as if he is a turtle coming out of their shell from the bottom of the ocean. The frightened victim is finally standing up.

 

The grin from the bully’s face slowly fades away as regret fills his eyes.

The crowd’s eyes are almost bulging out of their heads. The fear of the crowd dies as they encourage the victim. The bully shuffles away into hiding as the crowd roars for the victim.

Bonfire gem By Ella M

Smoke evaporates into the radiant sunset, as fire wood turns into ash. Flickering flames set a stunning light towards the blazing sun. Parents orderly walk into the house and search for the marshmallows. Out of nowhere everyone darts towards the trees in the backyard to find sticks. Anxious kids find and snap stiff, tough sticks. Sticky sweet marshmallows are pierced onto rough, jagged sticks and thrust into glowing embers. We steadily walk towards the fire and roast the marshmallows. They look black and crispy on the outside and are melted and gooey on the inside. It tastes delectable, and now that  have tried one I am rearing to try another one. Once all the marshmallows are finished sticks are thrown into the blistering  fire. The warmth of the fire that is still flickering in the wind, illuminating  the calm evening.

Graveyard Girl By Alice H

Wolves  howl  from the snowy mountain peaks. The icy wind chills my  soul as the dim hazy light flickers on the wooden electrical poles, as the lightning strikes a drop of ice cold water drips down my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as shivers run through my body. I timidly walk forward trying to escape this nightmare like scene.

 

The midnight black cat perches on a gravestone, it’s bright inquisitive eyes look as though it has witnessed death. Suddenly an old man with a shaggy grey beard and flickering lantern appears. I dart behind a an rugged  gravestone, my muscle seize up and freeze. I can my hear my heavy breathing over the now hushed graveyard,

 

my heart beats as though I have just ran a race it feels like it will pop. I hastily  crawl from   gravestone to gravestone, fear and adrenaline rush through my body compelling me to stop and watch for a little while. After a minute of waiting in utter terror and curiosity a gruff voice rings out… “ who’s there!? I keep silent until the ghostly man passes.

 

 I race for the exit which is in the opposite direction I hear the wolves howling… the moon is full.I can just make out where everything is. Finally I can find my way from here  two blocks away I think to myself at least I have something to write  about in the school newspaper.I get home and sprint up to my room and start typing away…    

A Convicts Pass by Charlotte B

Living like this could drive people to insanity. Not me. I was stolen from my home, proven guilty for a crime, a crime I didn’t commit. Having been here four years now, I am used to the freezing nights, the dirty rats, the cries of other convicts and the purple blisters you get from the chains that won’t let go, but i’ll never get used to the blood stains all over this hell though, and the last messages of the previous inmates kept in captivity.

 

Tonight is my last night, eating my last meal, thinking my last thoughts and saying my last prayers. I am not afraid, or sad, or angry,  just confused as to how anyone could ever be so cruel to another one of their own kind. Only evil people could commit this crime, only the most haunted of them all.

 

The prison guard arrives at dawn, ready to escort me to, well, my ending. I don’t deny the felony I was charged for, I gave up caring a long time ago. As they loop the rope behind my left ear, I prepare for the drop and brace myself for the countdown. My legs trembling, the floor is released and I quickly close my eyes. Three, two, one….

 

So here I am, in a better place, one I deserve to be in. I’ve escaped the poverty and injustice. Away from the nasty accusations and the butchered hostages of a hostile black hole. I am happy here, in my new home. Here I can be myself. This is where my soul shall heal and rest forever.

 

25th of April by Anthony D

Icey cold water makes scrambling for the shore almost impossible, instinctively I make a dive for cover on the mainland. The hard pebbled beaches symbolise foreign lands, unlike back home. Listening for my orders, all I can hear is the constant crackles and bangs of gun fire. Sprinting  past the unfamiliar beaches, I recognise the rendezvous point, the lower area of the valley.

 

Digging into the frosted turkish soil, I notice half of the diggers are already laying on the ground, two foot down and there’s only twelve of us left digging this trench. The trench is now deep enough for gunners to crouch in  their positions. Soon more men contribute to the never ending gun fire.

 

Torpedo like flashes whiz past me, the death wing crackle gets louder as Turkish accuracy takes place. One metre deep, now it acts as a refuge point in our offences, but it’s too late. I hear every other bullet whistle on for ever, except one, one that settles its way into my chest. At first, nothing, then a burning pain like my chest is on fire. Hitting the the marshy ground as I cuff my wound like it was made of gold, two men come to my aid, but unfortunately it’s too late to prevent my death.

 

Mine is one of many stories, and one of many outcomes at the Gallipoli landing of April 1915. 860 people died in the first five days and approximately 8,159 people all together in the historic battle. I can now be found at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra with a poppy by my name, to remember the spirit of the ANZAC. Lest we forget.