THE CROOKED MIND OF A TEENAGER

THE CROOKED MIND OF A TEENAGER

I went into hibernation for few months, due to unavoidable reason, hopefully, am back for keeps. All these time, my mind was never in limbo, but rather, I was busy sharpening my imagination.

We have few weeks, before the year 2017 comes to an end, but I have not accomplished half of what I had set to achieve. For sure, am racing against time, but will I ever achieve my set goals.

One of my set goals is, to conquer my mind. You see, I have this problem, where, a negative thought takes over the running of me. Am sometime overwhelmed by myself, not to know, what to do.

Am told that, this is the major issue which teenagers are wrestling with, most of the time.

BUTTERFLIES IN ME!!

BUTTERFLIES IN ME!!

When I need to get my happy place

I just think of an idea of genuine love

Or memories of genuine love itself.

Giving me butterflies in the pit of my stomach

I like the feeling

Because to me,

It is just a remainder of the person I am.

I am a lover, warm, and sensitive soul.

When I need to get to that happy place

It takes me there...

With those butterflies fluttering about

Reminding me of when I get lost

Have forgotten who I am,

Of just that... the real me...

-        Devika chakkingal

Yr. 12

Attractive Horrors

Attractive Horrors

   It was the eve of Halloween and the cold had settled in my bones. I had decided to setup a party in an old Victorian era mansion and was exploring it for the first time. I bounced towards the mansion; the aura of mystery surrounding it gave me a thrill.

    Withered bore oak trees guarded the building casted shadows that seemed like ghosts wherever the howling wind shook the trees. The sound of my feet crunching the dead leaves was the only sound that could be heard besides the occasional gust of whistling wind. I shivered when I saw a lone tombstone which had crumbled under the weight of age and time.

   I scurried towards the gray wooden steps that led to a rather prestigious, if not ancient, door. Small holes decorated the glass window in the door and as it open it creaked in protest. When I saw what seemed to be the living room, I was equally elated and frightened because the mansion was living up to my standards of a haunted house.

   The living area had glass littered everywhere. Cobwebs decorated every nook and cranny and I believe I saw a spider or rodent dash across the dark wooden floor boards. It was chiller on the inside than the outside so goose bumps pebbled my skin. Or maybe the goose bumps were from the strange adrenaline rush fear had given me? I walked towards the pitter patter of what I assumed was a leaky faucet…

By Kendra Mathaya,Year 10

WAITING FOR HER

          WAITING FOR HER

It was a golden hour, dusty colors illuminated the trees in the far horizon. I was seated near a window of a local coffee café, the girl I met on the online dating application was now thirty minutes late. I was anxious and even hoped she could not make it. What do I say? Am I overdressed? Were some of the questions battering in my head. The aromas of the roasted coffee beans reminded me of my childhood memories, seated as a family with warming soothing smiles of happiness, that and the crimson sky outside helped me to calm down.

          I looked towards the counter, the baristas were very busy attending to the caffeine needs of customers. It was chaotic, between the claustrophobic feelings on how confined the shop was and the repeated horns of traffic outside. I sought peace in the densely creamy vanilla latte which sat in front of me. Behind me was the soothing warmth of an oven which gave off a strong smell of yeast. The intensity of this aroma was so much that in my mouth I tasted the freshly baked bread, a fragment of my imagination.

          There happened to be a clock right in front of me, and as much as I resisted to look at it, when I saw it from time to time, the minute had seemed hot glued. My time in this café seemed like eternal admiration. I was growing impatient, and my sub-conscience mind drew up reasons for why she is running late. This was my greatest fear, being lied to “I should probably call her,” I said to myself. But I don’t want to seem desperate. Is this hell, I asked myself, having to wait for someone for the rest of your life.

          Since I got to the shop, there had been a lady standing still on my right side. I could see she was so busy with her phone the whole time, and might I add that she was dressed in a rich lovely silk dress. It seemed only right to offer her a seat next to me as she seemed to be patiently waiting for someone too. She accepted my offer and took as seat.

          I could not stop staring at her stringy blonde hair which complemented her complexion. I nervously asked her, “What’s your name?” which she replied in a slow whisper, “Meleiva Anderson, you?” I stopped to digest the information, my fur overwhelmed with confusion as she share the same name as the girl I was waiting for for the past hour.

                                                                            Done By: Imran Feisal

                                                                                             Year Eleven

REFRESHING CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

REFRESHING CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

          One beautiful morning the rays of the sun struck my eyes through the half opened, red curtained windows in my room. The sky looked as if it had been stitched with a silver lining. I knew it was a bright new day with new experiences to go through. I quickly woke up and wore my fluffy blue slippers and rushed to the attic. My mum and I had decided to clean the dusty attic today and that is where I was headed to.

          The attic was a whole new place for me because I had never ever had a slightest peak of it. The attic door with its rusted hinges creaked open with the slightest touch of my hands. The door was covered in fungi because there was a leakage of water from the brown, damp cracked rooftop. I entered and closed the creepy door behind me. The attic was fully covered in dust, there were some photo frames of people hanging on one side and it felt as if the people in those frames are staring at me from behind the layers of dust. There was and old Grandfather dock on the left side of the room which still has its long metal still swinging to and fro, and I could hear the sound of the clock going “tick-tock”, “tick-tock”. I wandered how this old corroded clock still worked, did mum renew it without telling me?

          The attic was pin drop silent, except for the sound of the large clock, and as I took another step from between the stuffed sides; my eyes fell on one a box that stood lonely in the deepest corner of the attic. I dodged all the oversized obstacles and finally reached the box. I opened the medium sized box and saw an unexpected sight! It was my childhood collection!! I was so excited to discover what was inside! The first thing my tiny eyes took sight of was my own bound scrapbook. I went into a flashback and tried to recover the memories. My orange and blue checked scrapbook had photographs of me in different destinations that I had visited when I was young. One thing I noticed was that my handwriting when I was a tiny, innocent child had curves. My handwriting was shaped like snakes tail and it looked extremely distorted!

          The second thing I saw was a framed photo of me and my lovely childhood friends fighting for a delicious black forest cake on my birthday-the scenario looked similar to the breaking out of ants on a wet lollipop. The thing that got my eyes next was my favorite childhood toy whose name was Woody. Woody used to be my extreme favorite toy when I was young. The cowboy doll that had a string on its back which when pulled made him talk. I then saw the brown, leather hat that Woody used to wear was lost, I quickly dug my hands into the box and finally saw that deep in one of the corners lied Wood’s hat. I picked it up put it on Woody and hugged him so tight, like how pandas never let go of their food.

          The dusty box contained so much of my favorite things. For me it felt like a gold mine; since it contained most of my special things. I couldn’t wait to mine more and more into to refresh all my childhood memories and run them in my mind again. It contained all my assets-assets is what I called my special stuff when I was a child I did not go for lunch even though mum had cooked my favorite food; Red and white cheese pasta until I reached the end of the box and looked and fully admired all my assets.

                                                        Done By: Ria Ramchandani

                                                                        Year Eleven

Dear Mr Schmit,

Dear Mr Schmit,

Choosing between an exciting, bustling and a cosmopolitan city and a peaceful, picturesque and a pleasant countryside would be quite difficult.  But there is always making a choice, by seeing the positive and negative sides of each place.  Moving from the busy, crowded city to a peaceful countryside is way more beneficial and I’ll tell you how and why.

Firstly, country air is generally cleaner than the city, which is partly due to the ability for plant life and woodlands to absorb carbon dioxide and the countryside air, however, generally lack the heavy metals and halogens that make up the atmosphere of cities.  Also, not forgetting, that people that live on the countryside live longer than people that live in the city; A department for the Environment, Food and Rural affairs survey in 2011 reported that those living in the U.K. countryside have longer life expectancy, a lower infant mortality rate, and a lower risk of disease than those in the city.  There is also the advantage of no noise pollution in the countryside (peace) whereas there is the constant noise of traffic in the city.

It is certainly more powerful and country villages are real communities where people know each other well and help each other out as a matter.  That’s how and why I think the countryside is more beneficial.

Sir, I think your move did not work out because maybe your children were not really cut out for country living because as teenagers, they would prefer a fun, chaotic and exciting place than a calm, peaceful countryside.  But you can always give it a second thought.

From: Jyot. J.Patel

PIG DEN

PIG DEN

The scorching sun was unbearable as I had been sitting for about two hours waiting patiently for my friend who never keeps track of time. I could call it the worst day of my life because I encountered so many different and weird things. Not forgetting the stench around where I was sitting.

I could not tolerate that place! Everything about it was just annoying starting from the chair I sat on. It cracked loudly any time I made slight movement and to make matters worse there was no where else I could sit because that place was extremely crowded, it looked like China town on Monday! I did not even understand why my friend picked this place.

The table was so dirty and sticky and the staff members never cared to do anything about it. To make matters worse, they did not even offer me the menu. They were so rude and did not even look like they wanted to work. I could not stand that place so I decided to ignore everything and observe the place. The tables were dirty and underneath them were dried chewing gum.

I called a waiter to complain about the state of my table. He was dressed in a white shirt and a black trouser, he was busy chewing gum, when he came over, and he had a bad smell. I enquired from him why the place was not clean! He was rude; he just looked at me, rolled his eyes and walked away.

Not only the smell was awful, but also the colour texture of the place. The walls had this dull, black colour, with no pictures on the wall. To me it looked so much as a pig den

 So as I picked up my stuff and stood up to leave, I saw my friend walk into the café. Even if I was very happy to see my friend I was also felt sick and tired of that place. We hurriedly walked out of the chaotic place because I could not stand any longer being there. Fresh air is what I felt when I left that place.

Anonymous press club member 

BEAUTY THAT GOES UNNOTICED EVERY DAY

BEAUTY THAT GOES UNNOTICED EVERY DAY

 I am seated here waiting for my childhood friend to come see me. I have been to this café a hundred times but surprisingly have not noticed a lot about it. Today, I sit here, on this black chair having drunk one cup of coffee already.

Two  rings and the call goes through. She picks up and sadly she is stuck in the famous New York City traffic. The café has a soft instrumental tune playing. I look around and see everyone seated and chatting. Some laughing, others look like they are too busy to even enjoy their coffee nicely. I can hear the beeping of cars outside the café and the creaking sound the door makes, every time someone enters or leaves.

I feel at peace but still a little bit annoyed because I am so excited to meet my friend. It is like as if the inside of the café is a complete different world from the outside. The world seems to be moving fast while I am seated watching it move. It really is peaceful. The paintings hung on the wall have a lot to notice about. Their bright colours to what they are showing.

The lady behind the counter keeps looking at me, I have been here for more than an hour, but my friend still has not arrived. She smiles at me and I smile back. Everyone around me is doing something apart from me. As I look out of the window again I see a small girl with a pink dress and her hair let loose. She looks like she is having the time of her life eating the chocolate ice – cream.

My thoughts wonder off  and I start thinking of how my childhood friend must have  changed since the last time I saw her, which was like five years ago. I bet she will still be so beautiful like always. She is so radiant and has a very attractive personality. She truly is a gem, I think about how much of a treat it is to talk to her.

I feel like I should thank her for being late. All this beauty would go unnoticed, wouldn’t it ?i look back as I hear the creaking sound of the door but sadly it isn’t her. I decide to call her again and she says she is here , I turn around and there she is……

Done by Sajani Patel

DEAR EDITOR

Dear editor

I feel  strongly about the article you published recently , “ Goodbye to the letter “ was not true in your article   you stated  that emails  do not  have the sentimental value  that letters  have. Well, even if that may be true it does nor matter whether you got a letter or an email. What matters is who you got it from. Is it really about the way you got the message or is it about the person who sent it to you? Well in my opinion the person matters the most.

I agree with you that we judge people based on their handwriting but , in a job assessment it matters  on the quality of your writing . You may have a neat handwriting but , the  content of your writing is not up to standard while, someone  else  hands in a typed application with top notch content. Emails are just a move convenient way of communication. You would never know when a letter would arrive or even if it got delivered in the first place. But with email you are sure that the recipient has received your message.

Another opinion you raised was about how illegible our handwriting is going to be. I strongly disagree with this because we do not type everything. We do use our handwritings. It is just that preferably we use emails for communications. Schools still insist on handwritten assignment and I believe this is practice for having a legible handwriting.

Handwritten articles are important but typed article are convenient in terms of time saving. Typing saves time because of the recent technology, auto – correct, your writings is less prone to mistakes compared to you writing cancelling unnecessary words and having a dirty piece which is also time consuming.

In conclusion email is taking over but with a positive change. Changing things for the better not for the worse. We all should embrace this change with open arms.

Yours faithfully

Godfrey Muchendu

TEENAGE

TEENAGE ISSUES

Teenagers engage in some self-harm or physical and psychological damages. Some of these include the following;

1. Sex, alcohol, and drugs

2. Increased use of communication devices and social media

3. Mood swings

4. Aggression

5. Lying or hiding facts

6. Defying rules and arguing

7. Drastic changes in appearance

8. Decreased Communication

9. Spending more time with friends

10. Indecisiveness

ROUND THE WORLD

ROUND THE WORLD IN MY ARTICLES

In my next articles, we will have a glimpse of the top 15 countries in the world; their specialties; their culture; and most importantly their cuisine.

So let’s start off with the 15th one.

15. Australia  

The only country that is both a continent and a country.

The splendid tourist destination is famous for its fabulous steel structure-the OPERA HOUSE.

A country surrounded by the pacific.

Their traditions are not much different compared to that of the English people. Once colonized by the English empire, they were separated into six colonies and concluded that they, somehow, have the same roots.

Not forgetting their national animal-the Kangaroo-the attraction that has incremented their tourism industry.

Indigenous Australia’s special food is the BUSH FOOD-basically fruits grown in the Australian bush.

    BY-DHARIT PATEL

THE HAUNTED HOUSE.

             THE HAUNTED HOUSE.

          I shut my eyes, pretending to be sleeping, but I tossed and turned all night. Something was keeping me awake. The bed squeaked with every move I made. It seemed like I would take some time to get used to our new house. This area seemed not to suit me much.

          I decided to go out for a walk and get more fresh air. I slowly crept out from the back door. It was pitch dark outside. I walked briskly to an unknown destination. The street lights seemed to be getting dim with time.

          Suddenly, I saw myself out of a huge house. I was lost. I had no idea of where I was. As I stood gazing at the dilapidated house, ice seemed to replace my spine. A sudden kind of fear had overtaken me. With courage and curiosity, I decided to move on.

            Pushing the heavy gates open, the touch of the rusted iron bars, as cold as ice, seized up my hand completely. I walked with heavy steps towards the door. The compound was filled with overgrown grass and weed, showing how deserted and uncared the house was.

            One lonesome oak tree stood by the house swaying in the wind. The moon shone bright in the cloudless sky, as that seemed to be the only source of light for miles. I fumbled with the doorknob and it begrudgingly creaked open.

             A slimmer of light guided me through the hallway leading me into a room. A flood of light flowed in as I flickered on the lights. The oldest residents of the house seemed to be the spiders. The walls had cracks through which insects crawled out. The floor had massive cracks with the dandelions popping out.

             In the house sections ceilings hung lump in the stagnant air. Cold air seeped through window frames, rotten and mild. The wallpaper lay curled up in the wall. Sofas and chair were overturned. It seemed that it had been three decades since a footstep had echoed there, it seemed like I skipped a beat instead and dust engulfed the air.

             The room seemed to be belonging to a little boy since crayon markings were made upon the wall. A toy dinosaur lay missing its head on the bed. The carpet squished as I walked. Little picture frames remained face down on the carpet. An owl hooted and it echoed throughout the house. It was time to leave, I told myself. I made my way back to the door. On the deserted road, I asked someone for the way to my house. Upon reaching, I crept back in from the backdoor and went back to sleep.

BY: ARPIT SRIVASTAVA,

CLASS 8.

Dear Manager,

Dear Manager,

                         My family and I recently spent a fortnight in Hotel Paloma as a suggestion by the Pegasus Travel but unfortunately our stay was not quite satisfying for a couple of reasons mentioned below.

                         First of all, most of the information written in the brochure was false because it said the bus service was always on time but in our case it was late. Upon arriving our hotel, and getting our room took quite a long time. First viewpoint on our rooms were that they were extremely dusty. With my spine craving for a rest, I was certainly not pleased by how dirty the room looked.

                         Setting that aside, calling for room service directly from the room, they took a lot of time which was really annoying. The atmosphere was so hot and we were not surprised when we came to know that our air-conditioner did not work. We visited the beach for a walk to feel the cool breeze thinking it will make our mood better but it actually made it worse. We ended up with eyesores caused by how polluted the beach was. Completely opposite of what it said in the brochure “beautiful and unspoilt beaches.”

                          My parents were quite disappointed with me as it was my duty to book and plan this holiday but Hotel Paloma did not live up with my family’s and my expectations at all. With my aunt having an infant with her, she wanted to make the milk a bit cooler as because the temperature was quite high, and to her surprise the freezer was not working.

                           With so many disappointments we decided to leave that hotel the same day we arrived. I totally did not expect that kind of behaviour from your staff. No one was punctual and nothing was in order. I humbly request you for a refund or another holiday as compensation. I await your reply.

                                                                        Yours Faithfully,

                                        Janvi Patel