WRITING COMPETITION RESULTS FOR OCTOBER.
The October Writing Competition has just concluded with yet another high-quality round of writing. Classwork continues to make up the majority of entries across the various subject areas. The quality of writing is of a high standard. As the month of October includes Halloween, students were free to use that as a theme. Hence, we received a lot of ‘scary’ stories. With that in mind, the winners in the month of August are:
Year 7: Aishriya Lal.
Year 8: Kathryn Baginski.
Year 9: Sakina Ganiwalla.
Year 10: Ivan Farkas.
Year 11: Sabrina Tomas.
Each winner receives a $30 Teen gift voucher.
Our Honourable Mentions with quality submissions in the month of October are:
Teghbir Khehra (7), Aanvi Rao (7), Kaitlyn Hall (7), Ruby Ison (8), Danny Yazbek (11), Mishthi Sharma (11).
Below are some samples of writing from October. Fonts have not been altered to preserve the intentions and originality of the student work. Thank you to those who entered. I look forward to receiving your submissions for the next competition ending on November 30th.
Kaitlyn Hall, Year 7 - What Now?
A fix needs to happen to Earth,
We need to give it a rebirth.
All we do is make new people,
Sadly, America made abortions illegal.
We continuously multiply our homes,
As we find more land across the world we roam.
Grow, grow, grow the population,
More kids need an education.
Almost 3 years have passed, can’t face corona,
And all these teens only care about their persona.
Let’s help Earth persevere,
And watch Earth look even younger each year.
Humans caused it to have a stroke,
And now with money, people are going broke.
What has happened to us all,
We have caused humanity to fall.
The deaths are increasing each day,
But there is always a better way.
Can someone show me how,
We can fix the Earth now.
Richard Tannous, Year 7 – Extract from: Rise of the Dratatoe.
A scary, tall dragon-like figure emerges from the shadows pushing me onto the floor. His ominous robotic red eyes beamed with violence as it reflected my fear in his eyes, the figure's bird-like mouth opened wide in position ready to blast me out of existence, ZING!
I woke up with my eyes slightly blurry. From what I could see I saw the figure‘s silhouette like the one in my dreams. In disbelief I walked up to the spot of the creature blindly walking whilst extending my arms. Clank. I felt a rustic, metallic figure. The moon was a light and cleared my sight as I spotted the monster of my dreams. I frantically rubbed my eyes trying to look the other way until my vision was fixed, however, when I looked back it was morning. In the same old bed, in the same old house, dreaming up the same old nightmare. My bedroom was dark and uncomfortable, the walls were made from oak wood with a tiled flooring. The lamp side was dusty and the grey lamp didn’t even work, a cupboard filled one side of the room with the door adjacent.
As I changed my clothes I realised my body was covered in sweat. The sunlight dashing through my room flooded as fast as a Melbourne cup horse racing in first place. It was the next lovely morning and I was still emotionally and mentally damaged from what had just happened. My parents could tell from the state of shock I was in once I got into my clothes that something was wrong. Due to this, once I asked if I could stay home they said yes without asking a question.
The first thing I do once I step out of my mischievous house is go book an appointment at a popular new therapy centre. I decided to walk through the park to clear my mind before reaching the therapist centre. At the park the joyful, life filled cheers helped me calm down as I knew that many were around me. As I strolled around the park I heard a rustling in a pus, I wasn’t to disturbed by it at first so I continued to walk. Again it rustled louder than last time which made me feel concerned, I went to check it out and I thumped on the ground, it was scary!
Aishriya Lal, Year 7: Extract from - Short Story.
The tin sky, painted with a single shade of menacing grey, fumed with rage - a cellar, black as a
devil’s soul. Forked strips of bold lightning hissed; trembling with madness from being first shackled.
Ominous clouds sentencing doom, churned with malice and outrage.
Beyond the horrors of the skies, rasp callings could be painingly heard. Their cries grew more
thunderous; they were near.
Their wispy black robes were tattered, dancing maliciously, despite the silenced winds. Abandoned
fragments of straggly cloth cascaded towards the grounds, pirouetting with ease, with the intent of
cursing the Grey Earth.
Beneath the tortured robes lay fleshless, bony arms stretching outwards with curling claws, pointed
and tapering - willing to slaughter.
Their thin masks were frayed, some fluttering - unveiling translucent flesh. Others were tight, on the
verge of being torn, revealing the outline of gruesome, jagged bones.
Beyond the shabby slits were two vicious eyes glinting with greed, piercingly red with a merciless
thirst for blood.
Their sinister grin uncovered a ghastly array of translucent teeth, oozing with shredded flesh, curdling
my blood. They were The Masked Devils.
The resonant beating of my heart drummed against my chest in utter disbelief. The threatened hairs
concealed upon my trembling spine stood tall - unaware.
I was living my nightmare. In the very same bedroom, I was living the very same nightmare. More
cries erupted. Heat stinged my ashen cheeks. They were after me. And they wouldn’t stop until I was
found. They could sense my flesh.
I sunk to the floor. My mind was a blank haze.
Ruby Ison, Year 8: Poem.
I am always just waiting. Waiting for the day you will come back and say “how was your day” but it is never that way. The days are growing longer and I’m not growing stronger, the pain in the way I have to look at myself every day. still seeing your reflection but not feeling that connection. The pain inside just eats me alive and I don’t know where to go. Struggling to breathe and trying not to grieve because I have to be strong but yet it has been so long. You are everywhere and yet nowhere. Searching around but you are not to be found and yet deep in the ground there you are. I can’t hear your voice and I have no choice but to live on like me. I never really looked at life until I lost the main part of my family.
Kathryn Baginski, Year 7: Extract from - Modern King David (1 Samuel 17).
I thought about his words. How fitting, that passage of the Bible:
The army of David - All of humanity. Doctors, scientists, businessman, mathematicians, and teachers like me. Everyone united under a common cause - and, more importantly, the word of the Lord.
Then, the army of Goliath - Covid. Armed with the spears of uncertainty, covered by the armour of the unknown, and shielded by the limits of human knowledge. Yet, it was a single figure when compared to the army of David.
If we won, we’d wind our freedom and happiness. If Goliath won, we’d all be gone.
There was no question as to who needed to win. While everyone said it was dangerous, and feared for coming into contact with the virus, we were all fighting.
Still, the government and those wiser than us rebuked us for our courage - we mortals could not possibly win, we had to play it safe. To which all of us responded with the words of David from 1 Samuel 17:36, “Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God.”
God, who has rescued humanity from countless tragedies, would protect us from the clutches of COVID-19.
And thus, we were all brought together in this war, and we were ready to fight the Goliath.
We clothed ourselves in the armour of lockdown. But staying in lockdown would not help us forever, and so, we were brave enough to leave the protection of isolation stood in the front lines and faced the Goliath.
Doctors and nurses helped the sick in hospitals. I, as a teacher, helped the young adjust to the new school environment. All who able enough worked on a solution.
In our shepherd’s bag, humanity held the vaccine. In our hand, humanity held the sling of determination.
We had faith.
Elyscia Barret, Year 10: Untitled.
He laid there in unbearable pain and continued to croak out the words that scraped at his throat. I pleaded for him to stop through ugly sobs. I couldn’t stand the sight of him in pain, but he kept praising how beautiful I looked at that moment. I was furious at him and the cancer that consumed him, but I bit my tongue. Although tubes laced through his skin and his eyes were deadshot, he still smiled so brightly. His beanie sat lopsided on his head, revealing the same pale features I met years ago. My eyes were peeled back. Tears rapidly falling. My body ached, threatened to fall. I just wanted to hold him. I just wanted to scream and curse the heavens for taking him away from me. No God I knew would be so cruel. But what right did I have?
He looked so tired.
So painfully tired of fighting.
It was beautiful outside.
But my sun died.
And it was peaceful at least, right?
I hope so.
Sakina Ganiwalla, Year 9: Extract from - Spider Skin 2022.
Huff huff huff
I panted as my eyes flew open, looking at the ceiling. My body being covered with mere summer pyjamas, and no quilt. No light could be seen through the window, and no noises of cars or people were within earshot. It was dead silent, with the faintest sounds of crickets. My eyes managed to adjust to the darkness of the room within a few seconds, and my breathing got steadier. It was so hot, yet so cold. My forehead was burning, yet my arms and legs had goosebumps. I was sweating, yet I was shivering. I couldn’t think straight. My thoughts went from side to side, but I was able to make out the end results of what I was thinking.
I reached down to grab my blanket from the floor. Expecting a soft, fluffy feeling of wool and cotton, my face turned into confusion when feeling the blanket more stiff than usual. It didn’t matter. All I needed was the blanket, which I managed to haul up and place on my sweaty, yet trembling body.
I tried to find the ending of the blanket to cover my whole body. As I twisted and turned, I noticed the blanket’s shape was different. Instead of a rectangle, it had long strips with one small rectangle in the middle holding it together. The amount of strips? I couldn’t tell.
I stood up on the bed and tried to balance my weight. I looked down at the blanket, trying to make out what I saw.
I screamed.
Mishthi Sharma, Year 11: Extract from - All Summer in a Day Rewritten.
William wanted to see the glimpse of the sun now. Not soon, now. In fact, he wanted to be the
only one who got to immerse in that luxury. He wanted to be able to boast about the bright
yellow ball in the sky radiating its warmth and light. William wanted everyone to be envious
of him. He wanted to cherish what the girl with yellow hair had already seen.
Margot was a shy, quiet girl. At times her presence would go unnoticed by the class, and
sometimes it was the only one observed. She had been fortunate enough to be able to flourish
under the yellow dandelion-like bloom. She woke up to it. Had a life under it. Where the
people of Venus would only experience 22 hours of the sun’s warmth, their entire days
breathing, she had already experienced it for 1606 days. For that, she stood in solitude. Her
presence was as lonely as a ghost. The moment Margot’s parents decided they were leaving
Earth, Margot felt herself shift in a way a five year old shouldn’t. The day she moved to
Venus. There was a cloud above her head. She was stuck in a maze, the walls were made of
rain. Oh, how deeply she missed the warmth of the rays. She missed how the sun welcomed
her, and now the kids here shunned her. She had nothing in common with these kids she was
supposed to call her friends, truth be told, nobody wanted to be her friend.
Especially William. It was at the moment their class teacher had introduced Margot, William
had decided he did not like her nor he ever will. William didn’t want her company, nor did he
need it. He had friends, lots of them. They made him laugh and kept him company, yet deep
down he felt an abyss of affinity.
Ivan Farkas, Year 10: Untitled Poem.
You don't belong here
Like a lost puppy you roam
You reap the lands for their material
Like a scythe in a field of hay
You kill those who stand in your way
Like a maniacal tyrant who failed
You fight for equality only when you are lesser than equal
Like a hypocrite who never learns
You undermine those more powerful than you
Like a manipulator who always tried
You call me alien, but you are the one on my land
Like a pawn in a game of chess
You are the alien,
I will never change
You don't belong here,
I do
You never did,
You never will
Hannah Ajayi, Year 11: Extract from - One Wish (also a rewrite of All Summer in a Day).
The warmth of the sun curled up on my skin, this was a constant reminder that I was safe, hidden
away from all the hurtful words that were projected at me every school morning. The sun was
my only escape, it ignited a jocund glow inside of me that made me feel almost normal. The sun
saw past my supernatural abilities, it embraced it unlike the school kids who bullied me for being
different. The constant flashbacks of being locked in the closet shattered my delicate heart.
Everytime I tried to stick up for myself, I was held back by my uncontrollable tears. With the sun
it was different, only I had the privilege of its beauty. It was a glowing medallion in the sky
calling my name, this is what it feels like to be home. As I heard the alarming school bell my
heart sank with devastation, “back to reality I guess”.
“I’ll be back soon”, I whispered. “I promise”.
I walked into the school hall with caution, hesitating to take another step as the bullies could be
right around the corner. My face stayed planted on the ground, afraid of what consequence may
arise if I dared to lift my head, even the slightest bit. The echoing of the children's laughter filled
the halls, it was a sound of a normal highschool experience. My heart was filled with sadness as
that was something I would never experience. I quickly hurried into the classroom and was
gracefully welcomed by the rude remarks made by the students, clenching my jaw trying to stay
calm, I made my way to my seat.
After hours of endless torture the home bell rang, it was music to my ears as it revealed a sense
of relief in my heart. As I made my way to the door urging to escape from this hell I’m suddenly
unable to move.
Danny Yazbek, Year 11: Extract from - Rise of Spartacus Gladiator.
The screams of the innocent reigns over the laughter of the wicked. Blood flowing in rivers as the fires
blazed amongst the highest mountains, with its heat scorching the skin of the loyal soldiers whose heart
lives and dies for their King, Spartacus. The trees which had once roamed the land, came tumbling down, blackened of its drained life. Shattering into its countless pieces of ashes as the flickering flames arose once again to continue its terrorizing cycle. Julius Caesar stood along the flame with his soldiers, having had the fires of hell establish a greater and increasing terrorizing reign upon the village, with the spirits of the innocent weeping as they descend upon the realm of resting. Clenching the rough wood which microscopically pierced the skin of the Spartan soldiers, with their eyes bleeding in the blood of their enemies as they breathed heavily, hearts beating too rapidly for the human body to maintain.
Watching as Emperor Caesar had raised his fist, with the drips of sweat racing down palms of his hands as he progressively opened his hand, feeling the tremor within his grasp fade away whilst standing on the stairs leading to his palace. A troublesome woman as well as a frightened child are ravenously dragged from within the flames and Spartacus’s face dropped at a rapid rate before watching as his wife and son are brutally brought down to their knees. “No....no...no...no, stop this...now!” Spartacus said infuriated, uncertain of how the gods will act on his plea.
Caesar smirked with his arms laced around his back as he said “shall you wish for your family to live, you must withdraw your weapons and accept defeat”. Spartacus, enraged, “I would rather die than accept defeat to anyone, especially that of a coward like you.” Spartacus is soon to realize that it is the lives of the ones he treasures most on the line. Watching the fear and terror in the eyes of his wife and son, who had been mustered in the concentrate of blood and dust, as their tears began to add upon this mixture.
“So be it”....
Sabrina Tomas, Year 11: Extract from – The Sun’s Rays (A rewrite of All Summer in a Day).
I miss waking up to the rays of sunlight shining through the cracks in my blinds. I long for the warmth
of the sun heating my bedroom window. I yearn to hear the birds chirp and sing outside my window. I
crave the excitement of welcoming the start of a new day. Viewing the magnificent stream of light, as
it beckons me to open the blinds and gaze at the rising sun.
Now I wake up to the drowning sound of rain.
Pitter-patter,
pitter-patter.
The raindrops echo off our tin roof. My 6am alarm drowns out the sound of the rain, a never-ending
reminder of my new life here. I turn off my alarm and sit up, staring at the bright red marker circling
today’s date. That’s when it hit me, the sun was coming. Anxiously, patiently waiting. The sun was
coming. I start getting ready for school, my mind replaying all my favourite, fading memories of my
life on earth. I’ve waited years to see the sun again, to feel the sun's heat on my pale skin.
My parents uprooted my whole family to Venus 12 years ago. I was only 4 years old when we moved
here. My parents never thought how great a toll it puts on a child, to grow up without the sun, having
no friends and close family. It’s been 5 years since I’ve seen the sun and all my memories of it are
starting to fade. I reminisce looking through old albums of my last visit to Ohio. Every day stepping
outside and staring at the dull, grey, gloomy sky, my mood drops in an instant. The rain washes away
every inch of happiness in my body. Every day is the same.
Rain, rain, rain.