ST ANDREWS WRITING COMPETITION
This has been a very busy year for the St Andrews writing competition. This year we have been fortunate enough to see a high standard in writing across the year groups. In total we have handed out $1290 in vouchers to our worthy winners AND 620 house points. I have also been privileged to read many fantastic poems, stories, songs, raps, and non–fiction pieces. I would like to thank all the students who supported the completion during 2021 and took a chance by entering and developing their writing skills.
The final winners for the 2021 competition are for the month of October and November.
October:
Year 7 Samantha Xavier.
Year 8 Mackenzie Jones.
Year 9 Jennifer Assi.
Year 10 Shaniya Lal.
November:
Year 7 Tristan Fegradoe.
Year 8 Arya Sawhney.
Year 10 John Trinh.
Congratulations to the winners for October and November. I look forward to reading many entries next year. Below are some examples of writing from October and November.
Mr Dewar.
Extract from John Trinh, Year 10.
“Happy Conquerors Day!” is the first thing I hear as I wake up to an extremely hot morning, drenched in sweat. I get up and wipe myself dry with a cloth as ragged as a welcome mat, grab some Imperium Standardised shorts, pull them on hastily, and round the door into the living room. The first thing I see is my mum, dad and sister all around the small yore wood table. Each occupant of a chair has a box just about the same size as a small vase, embossed with a patch woven from a high-quality fabric evidently from the Capitol.
“Happy Conquerors Day, Citizens!”
-Antares Imperial Government
My parents beckon me over to the table, gesturing for me to join them where the empty chair is, with another identical box.
“Alright, dear! Are you ready to open your governmental prize? I know you’ve worked hard in the mines, so they’ll probably reward you with something good this year!”
“Mum… Anything from the government is good enough for me!”
I say this, knowing that I need to keep the people behind the cameras happy and the Imperial guard off my back. Ever since we installed those cameras, the imperialists had tapped in to watch our every move, making sure that we don’t say anything behind their back and making sure we don’t brew up any trouble along the lines of rebellion or another chaos organisation.
Extract from Jennifer Assi, Year 9.
The man in the corner of my room sat there and examined me like a toy. I detached myself from society. I was in the blink of insanity. having him peer over my shoulder watching my every move and yet look back and no one’s there. A faint presence that haunted me. I was tearing myself apart over it. My everyday emotions were a joke. Hiding my pain and who I am always came at ease, no one ever has to know the loathsome truth. It was like his little whispers were telling me something but I chose to block them out and reassure myself. My whole life was a joke. No one ever knows the real me. As much as the invisible figure haunted me it comforted me. So many opinions down my throat, “the after life” “living for a purpose” it kept me uneasy. This mystery thing gave me comfort. Every little part of my life burned down right in front of my eyes and each time my hope got torn into a hundred pieces. More and more of me burned down with it. I became the worst version of myself, smiling so , laughing so hiding the most disingenuous unstable person there was. The man in the corner almost brushed into my mind and leaked into my thoughts. I started to accept the fact that I'm losing myself. I liked it.
“Online Friends” by Mackenzie Jones, Year 8.
I’ve never met the people who saved me
Never face to face
We only ever spoke online
And it became a day to day routine
Their real names I do not know
Nor who they are away from the screen
But their identities online
Are what saved me
Samantha Xavier, Year 7.
An endowment so precious, so paramount… HOPE.
~
To each of our forlorn selves,
You appear uniquely,
To the great ship - a lighthouse,
To the soldier - a yearn for peace,
But, nothing imperative is ever uncovered in pathetic desperation,
So this is why I say;
Drink the pleasures of the sunlight,
Ever so loyal, peering through the creases of your curtain
Let it in, I say!
Attain peace of mind with the passing of the seasons,
So constant, yet overlooked by the naked eye.
Resign yourself to the influences of each forgotten blossom,
And gaze at the pinprick lanterns above,
Pondering your life as such,
Like stars emblazoned forevermore in the course of history,
Or a winding, luscious path,
That you only dare tread.
For hope shall always be found if we bid to seek,
In the weatherworn trunk of a tree,
Or a morning dewdrop dripping down a leaf,
Present in nature’s constancy,
An endowment so precious, so paramount,
In the abounds of our restless spirit.
~
Extract from Cast Away by Shania Lal, Year 10.
It was like a relic of a gem. Winking in the sun’s blinding beams that hung low against the dense ribbon of azure spread throughout the heavens, the glass bottle flashed its kaleidoscope of hues against the blanket of sand. Intrigued, I stood up and brashly dusted off the stray grains that clung heavily to my skin, tanned after sitting so long under the golden circle. My seafoam green eyes quirked up in curiosity, fixated upon the object as my chestnut curls bounced behind me in a wild mane. I sprinted across the sand in search of the jewel that had just caught my attention.
I frantically scoured the beach in search of the mysterious item as time resolved to tick against me in a bid to bring with it the day’s close. Halting to an abrupt stop I decide to steal a few moments to admire the striking display of colour seeping in to light up the evening sky. The sunset breeze continued to creep in as I deeply inhaled the last few tendrils of sweet earth, the air growing thick with the impending darkness, carrying with it a sweetness like the last spoonful of honey from a secretly stashed supply. The horizon bubbled with a pink tinged glow, casting the soft light over gently sloping hills. Closing my eyes deep in pure bliss I hear waves pounding against rock somewhere off to the distance, sending an impressive onslaught of sea spray coming my way.
Suddenly, something tugged at my feet. Opening my eyes and bending over; I peer at the thing that had rippled my pool of peace. Upon closer inspection the ‘thing’ happened to be a bottle, and as realisation hit me like a bus I remembered my neglected mission. Gasping with surprise I piece two and two together, was this the object that had called to me? Up close the bottle looked less remarkable. The bottle itself was grimy and cracked, containing some suspicious looking entities. What appeared to be a yellowed piece of paper was partially submerged in a puddle of seawater inside the bottle. Brimming with excitement, I reached for the bottle by its neck. I had always dreamed of being a detective, and it seemed like my wishes were finally coming true. I could never have imagined coming across an old bottle with an even older message strewn on the beach, it was just like in the detective shows.