The Anthology 2024

A note from the editor

Welcome to Rebels and Dreamers, an anthology that celebrates the creativity, courage, and camaraderie of the CBC Fremantle Creative Writing Club. This collection brings together the voices of young writers from Year 7, Year 8, Year 10, and Year 12, whose stories, poems, and reflections were crafted over countless cups of milo and family packs of Tim Tams in our weekly morning writing sessions.

Since Term 2, our group has gathered each week to share ideas, explore new genres, draft, write, and refine our work. Together, we’ve entered competitions, taken risks with language, and discovered how powerful and joyful it is to connect through stories. The goal of the club is simple: to foster a space where students can share their passion for words, embrace the fun of being creative, and connect over a love of literature and storytelling. And as the stories in this anthology show, there is no shortage of imagination, humour, and heart in this group.

A special thank you to our dedicated library staff for their support and for providing us with such a welcoming and inspiring space each week. Their kindness and encouragement have been invaluable in making the Creative Writing Club feel like a true home for our young writers.

We hope you enjoy reading Rebels and Dreamers as much as we enjoyed creating it!

Miss Megan Henry

Wollunqua by Kyson Fairhead

Dry shrubs stretch across the vast and endless dunes, animal tracks covering the bright sand. The merciless sun gazes down on me; no clouds to stop the waves of heat crisp my skin. Limestone rocks pierce through the surface like spikes threatening to spear; their surfaces chiselled and filled with holes. Small grains of sand and dirt brush through the air, stinging my body with every contact. The violent wind covers my hearing in a static storm, each gust making me feel more insignificant. The air is warm and dusty, with a hint of salt from the ocean nearby.

The dunes are far from inviting, but when I press my bare feet into the warm sand, I feel free. The dunes are a way to leave my harsh reality. A way to find peace.

“Cameron!” an old man shouts with croaking voice. His presence shakes me. I turn my head. Look into his enraged eyes. And walk up to him slowly,

“Dad, please-” I plead.

His rough hands bound towards me as he grasps my throat, his grip crushing my very windpipe. As I struggle to get air inside my lungs, he pulls me towards his rank mouth and whispers in my ear.

“If I ever catch you out here again, you won’t live to see the next day.”

The crushing sensation stops as I fall. The sudden collision of the ground wakes me from nearly fainting. The despicable man wanders back where he came from without giving me a second look. I rise to my feet. Gulp and hobble out of the dunes.

The town is dry. Crummy houses fill the streets, paint peeling off each one. They are crooked, windows tainted, bricks cracked, and tin rusting. The air is thick; smoky and cruel, a slice of garbage compared to the fresh air from the dunes. The grass is dead, along with every other living thing in this town. The only things green are weeds, living in the cracks of sidewalks and roads. And in the depths of the farthest street is where I live. Actually, it’s where I suffer. Most people wouldn’t even call it a house, let alone somewhere where people live. The walls are rusty tin, with holes infecting it. The roof’s tiles are cracked and have lost all of their colour, the fly screen door busted and scratched. As I step inside this shack, the smell of burnt cigarettes crawls into my body and the light begins to fade. The door shuts behind me and the man from the dunes sits on a splinter infested chair with a lighter and cigarette in his hands.

“You’re a horrible son you know,” the man grumbles, shoving a cigarette in his mouth.

“I know,” I say with a frown and my fist clenched.

The man holds the lighter up to the cigarette and lights it. After a deep inhale and exhale he speaks again.

“You’ve got everything you need right here, and although you might not like it the dunes aren’t your family. I am,”

I recede my eye contact. His old legs wake as he emerges from the chair sitting in darkness. His arms reach towards me.

“Look mate-”

“I’m not your mate!” I yell back.

“I know it’s been rough ever since mum.”

My eyes begin to water.

“No, you don’t, you weren’t there. So don’t - just don’t,”.

The man drops his cigarette, his eyes enraged. In a flash his rough hand slashes through the air and slaps my left cheek. I fall to the ground. Beat down and full of hatred.

“I loved her more than you will ever believe,” he whispers, now crying as well. I climb up and sluggishly make my way towards the door.

“No, you’re not leaving not now. Not ever.”

I huff and turn to my torturous room. I hobble pass my father and give him an ungrateful look.

The night is cold in this town, and without a proper house it’s even colder. I stare out through a hole in my wall and admire the dunes. I don’t want to be here. I want to get an education, I want to go to the city, I want to feel properly loved. None of these dreams can be found in this town.

I thought for a while and realise that the only way to find these dreams is by leaving, leaving this town and leaving my dad. The dunes cared for me; they know who I am. My dad has only ever cared for smoke in his decayed lungs.

Thoughts race through my head, and adrenaline filled my lungs. I stash a few items in my bag: a full water bottle, a knife, and some rope. Sweat oozes down my limbs as I step out of my room, the sandy floorboards under my feet squeaking under each step. My dad lays three metres from me, eyes shut, breathing softly. The door calls for me and my legs nervously carry me to the exit. I step outside. The air is cold. Lights are off. The town is quiet, crickets chirping and grass rustling in the wind. My shoe hits the gravel road. I turn my head to face my former prison. No longer will I be trapped and no longer will I be abused. I take a step forward. Which turns into a walk. Which turns into a jog. Which turns into a run.

Before I knew it, I was no longer standing on a gravel road. I was standing on sand, pleasant, familiar sand. Stars watch over me as I walk into the depths of the dunes, my footprints reminding me that there is no turning back. I face the opposite direction of the coast and wander into the jungle of sand.

An hour passes, and the sun began to rise. Any longer I would have frozen to death. I didn’t sleep. The sooner I find a town the sooner I can live my life. Dry clouds lie above me in the sky, dripped in beautiful pinks and oranges. I stop for a moment to admire them, take

a break and sip on some water. I remind myself to savour my water, who knows how long I’ll be out here. I snap back to reality, no more breaks during the day, I can’t afford dying of thirst because I stopped every five minutes. I threw my bag on my back and kept walking.

The landscape was a sea, lumpy and unpredictable. I wasn’t sure I was travelling the same way as I started, but I couldn’t let that cloud my judgement, so I kept walking. I could feel the heat creeping up on me in the morning air, but it hadn’t hit yet so I kept walking. Shrubs grow larger and denser, and I imagine snakes lying inside them. I hadn’t seen a snake yet. I kept walking. The bushes were getting denser and if I wanted to go in a straight line I had to go through them.

The shade from prickly leaves relieves my skin from the unforgiving sun. The sand turns from a bright golden yellow to a brown, dead leaves sprinkled over the top. Trees and large shrubs stretch just over a meter above me. I crouch down. my head constantly getting scratched by the unpredictable branches piercing from each direction. I begin to realise that I’m slightly claustrophobic. Long, thick, windy sticks lie on the ground looking so much like snakes it scares me.

As I walk through the harsh bush rustling surrounds me. Sunlight peaks through gaps. Smells of rot and death corrupt me. The faint sound of hissing makes me more and more paranoid. Eyes dart around the bush. Lungs working double time. My paranoia catches up with me. I pull out my knife. Turn immediately. Slash it through the air blindly before the King Brown’s fangs dig into my veins. It’s now dirt- filled head lies motionless in the sand, the rest of the body the same. Short and sharp exhales are all I can feel my body doing. I stand frozen. I grab the snake’s body and toss it over my shoulder. Still processing what just happened, I keep walking.

The shrubbery ends as I walk out into an empty wasteland of sand. The sun slowly sets on the horizon. I turn to face the shrublands, then face the dunes again. Snakes or cold. I pile up a handful of dry sticks and leaves and wander into a dip in the sand. Using my rope and a variety of sticks I craft a bow drill. I rub hard on a flat piece of timber for a few minutes, creating small embers. I drop them on a pile of leaves and blow, hoping for some kind warmth as the night gets colder and

colder. The ember turns into a spark, the spark turns into a flame, and the flame turns into a fire. The dip in the sand protects me from the wind. The stick reaches into the snake’s long body. I lay it over the fire and wait patiently for my meal.

The snake gives me enough energy to keep walking the next day. With no cover from shrubs the immense heat slowly rips away at me. My skin is red and dehydrated. I look into my water bottle and guzzle down the remains. After stuffing the water bottle into my now light bag. I feel the urge to walk faster. Every minute longer I spend out here the more chance of my dying from dehydration.

The sun, now at its peak, the sand no longer filled with hills and dunes. It was flat and red with hints of grass and shrubs. I take a moment to lie under a fairly sized bush and instantly begin to feel better but I know I must continue. The dehydration and the weakness of heat exhaustion made walking harder than anything else. I snap out of it and begin to run, the run slowly turning into a jog, the jog slowly turning into a walk, and the walk ending with me collapsed on the edge of an unknown road.

“Nurse, he’s awake,” a male voice says with a sigh of relief.

My eyes slowly open and I begin to gain consciousness.

“Bring the man in,” an old lady replies.

The man nods an immediately exits the room. The woman sets her eyes on me.

“So, we hear you were found passed out on a road kid. What were you doing out there in the dunes?”

“Trying, to, to…,”

“Hey, hey, if it’s hurting stop. Sorry about that, just don’t know why a kid your age is found practically dead, on the edge of Wollunqua territory,” she says.

I stare at her puzzled.

“You were near Snakeburrah.”

I give her another funny look.

“The giant, snake-infested bushlands,” she adds.

I look at her dead in the eye and she gasps. But before she could say anything, the same man from before comes running into the room with someone else. Someone familiar. “Let me see my son!” he shouts.

His pale, tear drenched eyes stare into mine. He leaps towards my bed and lays a hand on my chest.

“Cameron,” he cries. “I’m sorry mate, If I knew you were gonna…”

I reach to put my hand on his shoulder and give him tight hug.

“It’s ok dad,” I whisper weakly. “Where are we?”

“Cam, this is Northampton, its where you’re going to go to school, and its where we’re going to live.”

I smile gratefully as I fall back into my bed.

“You still smell like smoke dad,” I say.

“Don’t push it boy,”

We both let out a slight laugh as I drift back to sleep

Rebels and Fighters

By Alex LaFuente

“Argh!” another soldier screams falling to the blood-soaked streets as a bullet pierces his heart. We keep moving forward pushing against the kings’ forces.

“Come on, keep moving. Don’t slow down,” I say, cutting down another of the kings’ soldiers. But for everyone I cut down, two more come to fill their place.

“Sir, we can’t keep moving, the northern flank has fallen,” a soldier says, ducking as a musket bullet flies over his head.

“Damn that north flank,” I curse. “I should have sent more soldiers over there.”

“Sir - we should retreat,” the soldier pleaded.

“You’re right,” I say. “Tell the soldiers to make a full retreat but keep the musketeers at the back to make sure they do not follow us.”

“Yes sir,” the soldier said saluting. He then ran off; I turned to follow him but then I saw it: the beast. It was smashing its way along sending

soldiers flying aside, left and right. It saw me and came charging towards me. I held up my sword and stabbed at its paws, then I was flying. I smashed against the palace wall and crumpled against the ground unconscious.

I woke up in a cell chained to the wall. The chains were old and rusted. I pulled against them, but they didn’t budge.

“Well, well, well,” someone taunted from the darkness. “Looks like the sleeping beauty is finally awake. Head up soldier; you don’t want to fall asleep again.”

The person stepped out of the darkness. It was the king; the tyrant who had oppressed the people of this beautiful country of Ispar. He taxed the populace until they could barely afford food to eat. I spat onto his newly polished boots. Crack! His kick landed hard on my side, and I feel my already broken ribs throb.

“I guess that my beast did not teach you enough of a lesson.”

“That beast was yours?” I say, my voice cracking with pain. I remembered how people with strong minds could link with beasts like golems and dragons.

“Yes, he is,” the king said lazily. “Tell the torturer to work his magic. Oh, but before you do that get the doctor to patch him up, we don’t want him to die before he can tell us anything.”

With a last contemptuous look back, he strode out of the cell, a man trailing right behind him.

Rebels and Fighters

“Argh ahh.” I groan as the last bandage is put in place by the doctor. Then two soldiers took me by the arms and started to take me to the torture chamber. I kicked out, hitting one of the guards in the knee and dislocating it. He let go of my arm and fell to the floor crying out in agony. I then lashed out at the second guard, hitting his helmet and bruising my fist. He let go of my arm and I spun to the guard lying on the floor. I drew his sword and slashed him across the neck, instantly ending his life. I spun around just as the second guard sent an overhead

cut towards me, I blocked it and then went on the counterattack. With a thrust, I caught the man in the chest and he fell with the sword still jutting out of him. A killing blow.

I ran through the twisting labyrinth of hallways. After a minute I came across a hallway with ornately carved statues of beasts, then out of nowhere I heard a yelp and something tackled me to the ground. I rolled on to my back to see who my attacker was, but as I turned all that I saw was a baby dragon, a nature dragon to be exact. It was on the floor nosing me in an annoyed fashion. It was a mix of emerald green and ruby red. I felt it’s consciousness in my mind.

“No way,” I murmured, astonished with my luck. The beast had linked with me. I had no time to marvel at it, I had to keep moving. I tapped on its conscience with my mind urging it to follow me. I was up and running again with the little dragon following close behind.

Finally, I found the exit to the palace. It was unguarded which surprised me; I guess that all the guards were out fixing the town, so I ran out the gate and into the darkness of the night.

After hours of running, I stumbled into a cave system that I thought would lead to the main base of the rebel leaders. After what seemed like an age of walking through the dark confines of the cave, I collapsed against the wall and looked up. The roof of the cave was dotted with glow worms casting a dim glow along the tunnel. My little dragon curled up on my chest. Now that I looked at her properly, she seemed to be changing colour.

“Wah?” I whispered confused; the surprises just kept coming.

I woke up in the same tunnel as before.

“Time to go,” I said to the dragon, gently pushing her off my chest. I was up and walking again, the dragon next to me.

We had made good time down the twisting labyrinth of tunnels. Then as we turned a corner, I saw torch light ahead.

“We made it,” I whispered to the dragon and strode into the light.

There were ten men standing around a table that was piled high with maps and charts. None of the men saw me at first but then a tall man turned and let out a cry of surprise. All the men turned in unison and let out their own cries of surprise.

“S-sir?” one of the men stammered. “We all thought that you were dead. How are you alive?”

“You thought that I would die from that beast?” I said peering at the men around the table.

“Umm, yeah,” one of the men replied. He was tall and spindly with a mop of black hair on his head and a few wrinkles around his eyes.

“Well, you thought wrong,” I say before I collapse to the floor in exhaustion. I woke to one of the men shaking me.

“Sir, sir! Oh good, you’re awake,” the same man said sighing.

I stood up and looked around. We were in a large room that was carved from stone, so I knew that we were still in the cave.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

Feeling something wriggling on my legs, I looked down to see my little dragon.

“Hey there.” I smiled, pulling her close.

“Long enough to summon all of the Generals and to start to plan a counterattack against the king,” the man said, helping me to my feet and walking out the door.

“That’s good,” I say, walking down the cave hall and into the planning cave.

“Everyone, this is Alex, general of First Legion who led the first battle against the king,” the man said looking at everyone in turn with narrowed eyes, daring anyone to tell him that he was wrong.

“We all heard that you had died,” one of the generals said looking at me with admiration in his voice.

“Well, you heard wrong. I am in front of you now, aren’t I?” I asked, looking him in the eye.

“What’s that you’re holding,” a large man said pointing at my dragon. “She’s mine and if anyone says anything about it then they will hear from me,” I said glaring at everyone.

“It’s not a problem, in fact this could be the solution we have been looking for,” said the general. “Did you know of the prophecy that says only a dragon bonded warrior can kill the King?”

“So, let’s get this meeting started,” the skinny man said.

Hours later we came out of the room with a plan. Not a good plan, but a plan none the less.

“Sir it’s time,” someone said standing aside to let me pass into the next room.

We crept as quietly as possible with so many men towards the palace. The clink of armour and clang of weapons was inevitable, but we were trying to keep it to a minimum. The only other sound carried to me by the wind was the rustle of leaves on the trees above. I was tense, waiting for the sound of an alarm bell but so far it hadn’t come.

When we were just a few meters from the entrance to the palace a new sound reached my ears, the loud clanging of a bell. Then troops started to pour out of the main gate.

“Hurry! Attack before they can form up!” I screamed over the toll of the bell.

We charged, smashing straight into the assembling troops. I cut left and right, catching a soldier at every swing of my blade.

“Sir, sir,” a soldier shouted, running towards me “There is no need to worry about these guys, let us deal with them. Find the king and cut him down.”

“Ok,” I answered before running off into the mayhem. I finally burst through the mess of soldiers and into the palace courtyard. I sent my little dragon into the sky to do some scouting but almost as soon as I did it, she dive-bombed something standing on the parapets. A second later an arrow whistled wildly over my head. I saw my dragon tearing at a man’s head and neck. A bow fell out of his limp hands as he fell to his knees, dead.

I kept moving, running through the palace for the second time that week. Then I heard something coming from the room to my right; it sounded like a door closing. I turned and slammed into the door sending it flying from its hinges, just in time to see a secret door closing on a bookshelf. I ran towards it and pulled the book that I thought would open the passageway door. I was right, it opened. I ran through the opening and into the darkness, chasing the king.

I burst into the light and stopped to let my eyes adjust to the newfound brightness. I looked around and saw the king with his beast standing at a cliff edge, sword drawn, staring at me.

“You came here to kill me, so here’s your chance,” he yelled, pointing his sword at me.

“Fine,” I bellowed back, drawing my sword and charging forward. Our swords clanged with the impact; sparks flew in all directions.

“Inferno enduvale,” the king shouted, and a circle of fire formed around us blocking any chances of running away.

“Inferno,” I murmured, my sword bursting into flame.

I ran towards him jabbing, slashing and cutting, with every impact a resounding clang. A screech cut through the air and I spun around to see my little dragon on the floor cowering as the king’s beast reared over him. I lunged back towards it and slammed it with my shoulder sending it crashing into the ring of fire. I picked up my little dragon cradling her in my arms.

“Heart” I muttered the healing spell.

A roar of rage made me turn. The king was charging towards me with his sword raised high. I dropped my dragon and lunged towards him. His sword came down but before it cut me in half I stabbed him right in the gut. The king stopped. I could see life draining from his eyes. His sword dropped from his fingers and rattled to the ground. He staggered back, the circle of fire disappearing as he fell off the edge of the cliff and into the stormy seas below.

As I watched him fall one thought reached my mind: we’re free!

The Keep in the Clouds

by Robert Neck

Blaze is an arrogant young man who rarely ever follows instructions. He is constantly in trouble and always seems to be at the centre of trouble in his school. He always has bad grades and fails every test he takes. Thus, he got the nickname Rebellious Blaze.

Blaze has short black hair and eyes that joyfully mimic the forest's colour. His skin is a natural shade of white that reflects the sun's rays off keeping him cool often. He always wears a green mountain range shirt with a grey jacket, some green shorts and forest green crocs. It was obvious to everyone that his favourite colour was green.

As much as Blaze caused trouble, he also found the quietness of the forest the perfect place for him to always clear his mind and settle down from whatever activity happened at school. His favourite activity was always foresting walks as it allowed him to take in the fresh scent of the forest.

The reason he despised school as much as he did was because he felt it would get in the way of his forest time which it does with school lasting 6 hours a day going from 9am to 3pm.

The week was the seventh and Blaze had tests just around the corner, yet he kept procrastinating by going to the forest. On Tuesday when he came home from the forest, he did is normal deeds like having dinner showering, brushing his teeth and then he went to bed.

“Howdy mate! How are you?” said a strange fellow.

“Wha- what is this place?” Blaze asked the man.

“Well, this place is the keep in the clouds!”

“I am Jake. Nice to meet you! What is your name?” Jake asked.

“Huh. Well, I am Blaze. Nice to meet you too,” Blaze answered.

Hazy clouds surrounded a cobble kingdom that stretched for a mile before a castle that went up forever. In front of Blaze laid a broken path of bricks scattered across clouds into a medieval era looking town. The people on the outskirts of the city seemed happy.

“You seem confused. Are you alright?” Jake asked Blaze.

“Yea, yea just figuring some stuff out,” Blaze said.

Blaze was confused as anyone would be since he had woken up in a place that looked like it was straight out of a dream, and that is because he was in a dream except, he did not know it yet. As Blaze looked around at the golden haze that surrounded the city, he walked up towards a broken path surrounded by clay walls with straw roofs that looked like they were imminently about to fall but still stood in place. As Blaze walked up the stone path, he found a yellow glowing orb that was emitting light all around light the walls, the roof, the people and even the air but when blaze took a closer look, he found it was a compass. Just like any other it had a brass basing at the bottom and a metal pin in the centre. Except the thing about this compass was that it was instead an orb meaning the pin could point to any location pointing out from the orb’s centre. The pin was pointing towards the top of the castle at the centre of the kingdom.

Jake then looked at the orb and noticed that where it was pointing was the throne room of the king’s castle.

“Hey, by the way what is this kings name anyway?” Blaze asked Jake.

“Well, that one is a bit tricky as over here we call him the nameless king, but I heard that closer towards the castle his name is Zrogarin,” Jake answered.

And so now that Blaze had realized all this, he figured out that he must be in a dream. He then tried to pinch himself to wake up but he instead felt the pain. He asked Jake if this king Zrogarin had any powers that trapped his people there and Jake said that Zrogarin did have some kind of forcefield around this place that prevented anyone from exiting physically or spiritually, which in this case meant that Blaze was essentially trapped in his own consciousness and now had to escape by killing the evil king and sorcerer Zrogarin who had trapped him in his head. Just then a golden gaze flew over Blaze’s head, followed by a strong wind that pushed his hair back but not his body. The mysterious haze started to become thicker and thicker, remaining golden until all Blaze could see was a golden light all around him. Echoes were floating through and passing in and out of Blaze’s ears.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?”

“What’s happening in there?”

As these echoes began to pass through Blaze’s head, he suddenly saw a shadow that was a perfect outline of him, but as a shadow. As this mysterious figure came into view it looked exactly like Blaze.

“Hello Blaze. I am your subconscious, and this is the place of which you are dreaming. But because of how you made this world you can no longer leave it and are therefore trapped here in this world until you can reverse what has been done by defeating the source of this problem.”

“But how would I do that? I mean he has magic, and I just have this compass that points to his location.”

Well, since this is a dream, and you made this world you have some control over it. Now it will not work straight away as you will need to

master this skill first but once mastered you can do anything in this world.”

“Wait but if I can essentially be god than can’t I just like remove Zrogarin from this world and wake up?”

“Well, here is the thing, when this world was made it was derived from that which you hate, and that power of hate is so strong that you cannot simply remove Zrogarin. To leave you must either have him remove the forcefield or kill him which will also end the forcefield.”

“So, I cannot just leave but instead I must free myself. But what if I do not?”

“Well, if you do not get the forcefield removed you cannot wake up from this dream. But also, this dream is in relation to the real world, which means if you take 1 week to free yourself, you wake up 1 week after you fell asleep. And I know you have your tests, so you had better be quick as you have only got; 13 hours remaining to make it in time.”

“Wait but if I have control over this world then what can I do?”

“At the moment I’d say you can; summon a weapon for yourself, not a gun but something along the likes of a sword.”

After hearing this blaze began to think of a sword, a sword that was special and imbued with nature as that is what he liked. As he was thinking his hand began to glow with a yellow aura and the glow took the shape of a sword before sending out a burst of light. Blaze then realised he was back in the medieval town but now he was holding a sword. The sword had a green handle with a pattern of pine tree leaves and an azure, blue gem mimicking the river’s reflection resting at the bottom of the handle. Silver rain guards poked out of the handle with a spiraling pattern. The blade made of silver with a ling of green gems lining the middle of the sword. Jack was standing behind him pondering what had just happened but before he could say anything Blaze turned around to him.

“I’m sorry Jake but I have to go, I’ll be back soon though, I promise.”

“Bu- but where are you going?”

“there’s no time for that now but you’ll know for sure once I get back, I won’t even need to tell you”.”

Before Jake could reply blaze had already sprinted away in the direction of the castle to kill Zrogarin. As Blaze was running, he kept on trying to teleport, but he just could not as he could not picture what the throne room looked like. He ran through alleyways surrounded by tight cobble walls and hay on the floor. Every now and then he came across a gap in the world that if he fell in, he would have been trapped in, but he kept jumping the gaps while figuring out how to teleport. He was still miles away from the castle and could not make it in time if he just ran but before long, he had run one mile and was now out of breath. As he stood there catching his breath, he saw the glow of his compass in his pockets and took it out as he looked at it and the direction the pin was pointing he suddenly had a golden moment with an idea that might just get him to the castle in time. He thought long and hard about making an item that would get him there and after a minute of thinking he saw a golden glow take the shape of a crane before giving out a burst of light revealing itself to be a wooden catapult. Its timbers lined with speckles of light and stripes of wood. As Blaze had created this contraption he got into the large bowl at the top. A rope sitting just out of reach to start the mechanism however Blaze forgot to get so he climbed out to get the rope but before he could he saw guards running towards him after they had seen and heard the catapult spawning in. seeing this blaze was now in a hurry and quickly grabbed the rope and jumped into the basket and pulled the rope. The blast shot off and pushed the guards back as Blaze went flying. He saw the rest of the city and the distance he was travelling. He felt the wind smash against his body and slow him down before he looked up to realize he was headed straight for the window in the throne room. Before he could react, he suddenly felt the sharp pain of glass cut his skin up. His body landed on the soft carpet leading to the throne. The blood soaked out of his body and stained the carpet angering the king.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT!” the king yelled.

“Well; I just want to leave” blaze replied.

“Well, you aren’t leaving this place!” the king said in a deep tone.

Blaze drew his sword and pointed it directly at the king lining it up with the middle of his face heading from the parting in his hair to the indent at the bottom of his chin. The king picked up his staff which rested beside his throne before it let out an illuminating golden glow. Blaze took the first swing. Rushing to the side while lining up his blade with the veins resting on Zrogarin neck. He pushed his blade forward against the rushing wind resisting. Before the hit could land however blaze saw the wooden staff to the corner coming straight for his blade. The metal banged on the floor as it was knocked out of Blaze’s hands, landing on the stone floor below. Ducking to avoid the swipe he grabbed his blade back and pushed it in for another slash to the leg. This time it was successful. Crimson red blood swashed out of the king’s leg and towards the ground removing his mobility. With one final swing blaze landed a clean cut on his neck defeating the kind and removing the barrier. After victory he now needed a way to get back to the real world without thinking.

“HAAAH” blaze woke up from his slumber. For he chopped his own head off.

Burned Money

By Xavier Smith

He felt the bang of the metal pipe on the side of his ribs, seemingly shattering his core like glass.

“You’re just as puny as the rest of ‘em … wasting your worthless life just to kill me,” Anderson said.

“No, you’re wrong. Don’t you see – we’re both going to die here?” Bruce replied.

“Nah, you may be the last, but all of us are gonna burn. Burn! Our flesh, our souls trapped in hell forever.”

Bruce laid face down, his arms broken, useless. And as he started to dissolve in the flames, his mind drifted to the night before. What led him to this point?

His last daydream.

It was an empty, restless night. The type of night where the warmth is too sterile to sink into your bed. The type of night that forces you to stare at it, but it doesn’t exist. How? How does something with so much power and forcibility, simply and utterly not exist. Or is it his turning thought in the back of his mind? Was it ultimately his fault?

A lone flicker of mortality in the back of his mind.

He often found himself in this situation. Often dreaming of her, a desperate grasp to better times. The only thing he wanted, now buried in the sands of time. He felt empty like the popcorn ceiling above, a structure made, but with small pieces missing. The unfillable gaps of

his despair. But maybe this is what is best for him. You can’t learn love without loss. This was the average day of Bruce Anderson Jones, a schedule of work and unforgiving trauma.

But maybe today it might be different. Just slightly. His raw, tender feet slowly dragged across the smoky quartz tiles. The hallway was dim lit by a yellow glaze like light. Its gentle hue saturated the white hallway. As he entered his living room he noticed how small and empty it was. Opened beer bottles formed small puddles of depression on the table, like the small holes of water on a side street. He often dreamed of what it was like last winter.

Small, cheap and tacky Christmas LED lights hieroglyphed the walls. A set of stockings lined the TV cabinet and a small tree. A small, pathetic little tree. But he didn’t care about that; with her the house felt full. What happened?

Looking down at the colourful drug-stained carpet. A colourful concoction of happiness and lollipop swirls. Like fractured stars, incomplete but beautiful. But then it happened. The thing that made his scatter brain happy: The Invitation.

There was a knock at the door, a piece of paper slid under the door. His eyes fell on it, the first time full of wonder. His feet trekked across the floor. He slumped against the door his hand reaching out and claimed the paper.

It read:

Wanna escape, be free?

Go to 10 Attfield lane at 12am

Don’t be late ; )

Sam

He had nothing to lose; he had nothing. And besides, he wanted to be free. To drift around the complex galaxy of his mind with no trauma.

He put on his ash grey hoody, dusty grey pants, and his concrete grey shoes. He was set for freedom, for fun, for whatever life decided to bless him with.

Or … hate him with.

10 Attfield lane used to be a warehouse but was now just a husk of what it used to be. An empty place for empty people. He started to jog. It was 11:30, and even though it was two blocks away, it’s better to be early than to be late. The luminescent lights seem to float in the dark abyssal ocean of the night. The streetlights like jellyfish drifting pointlessly in the deep depths of the sea.

When he made it there was nothing. No people, no light, and no action.

“You can lead a horse to water,” he thought. “And if it’s stupid enough, it will drink in a dried riverbed”.

There were only pipelike veins holding up a skeleton like warehouse. But then he saw her.

A person?

A girl. She had lime green tie-dye hair. Sort of the colour that looked artificial, like a candy spritz, sour but enticing. Her hair frizzled but plaited like cotton candy. Her skin was white but darkened by the sweeping night. Her shirt and bottoms were as grey as cigarette ash.

“Hey good looking.” Her voice as sweet and playful like a distant good memory.

“H-h-hi” said Bruce, “a-are you Sam”.

He felt gob-founded; he thought it would be some sort of druggy or fighter. But she seemed different.

“Wanna be free?” A non-restrained and euphoric smile erupted from her face.

“What do you want?” Bruce said. He would not fall again for love, not after what happened.

“What’s wrong Ponyboy?” she teased. “I can be your Cherry Valence,” she added, giggling away.

“Is this a drug deal? I can’t buy, I’m poor,” said Bruce, his mouth forced into this un-ironic smile. He felt like one of those cartoon clowns. Grinning and smiling out of lust. Getting non-existent funny hands and waving them about.

“We’re alike - you and I,” she said. “You’re a dreamer and I’m a rebel. All I’m asking is to help me,” she continued, her voice sounding snarkier than at the start.

He couldn’t get a grip on what to think, it was like a python, slowly turning around his mind. Trapping him from thinking freely.

“To help?” he said trembling, not out of fear, but how she shaped the situation. He had never really been asked to help. He was just a figure in the background. Sort of invisible compared to the others at work.

“I’ll give you cash and a job if you just help me.” Her voice not as sweet now, but more demanding.

“W-w-what is it?” Bruce said. He felt like this would be some type of hard, dirty business.

“It’s all fine, just promise you’re not one of those couch surfer kids,” she said, her tongue sticking out.

“I’m thirty,” he said. “I left my parents’ house a while ago. And besides, I don’t wanna seem like a low lifer.”

“That’s a bit harsh around these margins, but good. We can’t allow anyone close to you know this information,” she said. “You wanna here my proposition?”

“Sure,” he said. “You are going ask me sell and do bad things?”

She giggled, but her giggles slowly popped away like bubbles in a can of soft drink.

“Nah, were in need for more brains” she said, holding her fingers delicately at the side of her head, like a soft grasp to the soft stars

above. Her nails were tobacco black with small glitter specks ingrained in those fake, cheap nails.

“For what?” he said, his right arm pushing away his free left one. “Tell me.”

He could feel his voice more raspy than usual. Like if his voice got taken over by a tougher, meaner personification of himself.

“Calm down Soda pop,” she said, spreading out fingers upward. “We need you for a money raid. “You happy?” she giggled. “Or is this too hard for li’l Bruce-y”.

He got mad

“But why me?” he said. He hated to be downplayed. He wouldn’t be compared to a sorry soul weakling.

“You have brains, kid,” she said. “And if someone has to split the cash and make financial decisions, it’s you.”

It’s true. He had been a financial advisor for nearly his whole life so far. Finding better worlds, escaping in the vast maze of intricately placed numbers. To imagine the wealth that he could have, sipping on some drink for rich people at a place for rich people. To be one of the jerks that you would see on your phone, smiling and being joyful in the Bahamas. Imagining if his job paid well.

“But you, you’re also thirty…right?” he said

“Yeah, right.” Her smile glowed like the alienized streetlights outside.

“So... you in?” she said, her voice infused with a sweet like energy. Her voice neon and bright- lit like her energetic, fluorescent hair.

“Maybe?” Bruce said. Her heart seemed to shatter. But she seemed to be able to say one more thing.

The thing that would change him.

“You are the only one that can beat, fight, and unite the dreamers and the rebels, Ponyboy. You’re the only one to unite the outcasts, put us together like the broken jigsaw pieces we are, and make us whole

again.” She spoke, her eyes full of streaks of sorrow and pain, but also awe and aspiration.

“Fine, I’ll join,” he said, his eyes drifting towards the empty sky above.

“You will?” she said, her heart being seemingly rebuilt back together like Lego bricks. Fast and strong.

“But under one condition,” he said, his voice deepening.

“What’s that”

“We kill Anderson Brown.”

Before the event, he was a regular guy.

The type to eat Weetabix with the regular, cheap honey buried at the bottom of the sale aisle. The type of person to drink dried instant coffee, a bullet of energy to wake him up. And the type of person to just sit there, thinking of the next day. She was his life, his Calvin to Hobbs or like one of those other cartoon newspaper characters. Always together. Her grin as beautiful as the morning, yolk-like sun. Her hair as brown and red as the old jarrah boards of their patio, her eyes were as blue as the drifting sky above.

But that day at work.

A. Fire. Started.

Making him feel like a piece of unwanted fruit. Or as void as the popcorn ceiling, above him for many nights.

“So, you’re … the burned accountant?” she said her face strained of emotion.

“Yeah, the last surviving accountant of 2005, that’s me,” he said. The burned accountant was his nickname as he was brunt as a crisp, but still lived.

“And I Know He Did It,” he said.

“Good. Now let’s see the crew,” she said.

Three more strangers stepped out of the darkness. Each one wearing a black jump suit.

“Hi, I’m Frontman” said the biggest and brawniest man he had ever seen. His blond hair was as pearly as the sand at a golden beach. His body was ripped head to toes. He reminded him of that song ‘Teen Spirit’. But he felt like it wasn’t just spirit. He looked like he was the king of the school gym. Bashing teachers and students alike.

“Is this the pipsqueak that you were talking about, Kat?” he said, his voice with a grin.

“Yeah, it is, he’s the guy,” Kat- or Cherry- said. He didn’t know her name anymore.

“Hey, weirdo, I’m Anarchist,” another stranger from the mist of the darkness said. Her skin was brown like chocolate and her hair like macchiato. “Be nice or I commit a treason again, Buddy.” Her eyes seemed to follow his. Was she sight stalking?

Just before Bruce replied, another voice shot out of the darkness.

“Hey, that’s a bit harsh,” said the last one. His eyes seemed too big for his head. He had fair skin, and his golden hair seemed to curl up. “I’m the…”actually, just call me Demo,” he seemed to say.

“And I’m the last one,” said Kat. “You can call me Katniss or Cherry, depending on how you feel.”

“So, this is the team,” said Ponyboy.

“The team to kill the Baker’s dozen,” said Kat EVERYONE FELL SILENT.

Everyone knew the Baker’s Dozen. A group of pyrotechnic losers that would kill and strike public places. Burning people and shops alike as if they were marshmallows. Committed inside jobs and took bribe money alike from rich people and sources. And the attack on Bruce’s work was organized by the very leader himself, Anderson brown. The Baker.

The Daintree Rainforest

by Owen Barnett

The tall trees of the Daintree high above your head

The green flowing river right below your feat

The birds chirping calmly singing with the fish

The frogs croaking slowly to the river right below

The temperature is humid straight during the day

And ice cold throughout the night

You can taste the thick humid air

And can smell the water from the river below

Refrigerator’s Make Sense

by Owen Barnett

Haikus are easy

But sometimes they don’t make sense

Refrigerator

The Murder of a Girl and a Man

by Owen Barnett

VVVVVROOM

(a car door slams shut, some-one yells and there is a faint sob in the background)

Then a loud scream echoes across the valley followed by the CLICK of a gun reload

Another scream mixed with a cry, louder now

Then BANG, a gunshot echoes through the valley followed by the final scream

A crescendo of sirens follow soon after, blasting the area around Gunshots pierce the air

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Then there is silence and nothing more is heard

Apart from leaves rustling, the trees swaying and the wind whistling

That day there were 2 deaths one of a girl and one of a man

The Classroom Chair

I was born within a factory

Which I was then sold in a shop

Bought by a lady

Who took me to the lot

She put me in a room

With a number of 105

With 2 doors on both sides

And windows both entwined

I am sat on by boys

From young to old each day

Different size and weight

6 periods in a way

I have been here for 2 years now

New boys every year

Some scratch my back

And some are nice and clear

Soon I will be out of here

If I get scratched again

Might be in a dumpster

Or be remade again

The Orinos Repbublic Motor-Race Commander

By Andrew Kelly

Boom!

Crash!

Lasers flew through space as a tiny craft weaved in between them. This was the war. The greatest war of all time: the intergalactic space war between two deadly enemies. And there was no light of hope that it would end. Until one day.

1 week before…

Space. His home. The vast world of planets and stars. This is where he lived and had done so for thousands of years. A mystical alien, on a planet far, far away, he was. His kind had amassed their empire from the living dust of Orinos. They had formed several enemies with their forces being strong and mighty. He had been living in the middle of the war for as long as he had been alive. He was a very well-fed soldier of the Orino Republic, who had won and saw many battles with the fearsome Arcarnaries. These blood thirsty aliens would do everything they could to stop them and their advance through the universe.

Orinos was his home. He had lived here for as long as he could remember. He remembers waking up, with his mother standing next to him, born from the living dust of the soil. That was the traditional way. His mother had told him of this traditional way. Her essence was poured into the soil, and new life was born. He was always part of the soil. That was just the way.

He commanded a small set of soldiers on Motor-Racers, a heavy artillery hover bike. He liked it that way, as not many of his fleet would die in a battle compared to the ground units. That was the very basic life of Dotormain, the Orino Motor-Race Commander.

Today was no ordinary day. He was told in the morning that he had to teach his first training session. He would be setting up a second part of his fleet, by Nyte’s order, as a heavy armored fleet of tanks would be joining his squad. He needed to recruit ten tank drivers out of thirty drivers that had applied. This would be very difficult as he had done nothing like this before. Little did he know it would all go wronghorribly wrong.

His fleet arrived at the Grand Canyon of Sargos, a long channel of mountains that was very treacherous. Out of his thirty drivers to try out, he would take them in groups of ten. He sent the first two groups off without fail. He took note of the seven drivers that passed. The last group was atrocious. Three of the drivers crashed on the last bend because of engine failure and four of them took sharp turns and hit the walls of the canyon. Dotormain held his breath. They drove round the last corner, and disaster struck. One of the drivers didn’t turn far enough on the turn and drove up and crashed into an over-hanging rock. He only had nine drivers. He needed one more.

This was bad. Very bad. Dotormain only had six sun rotations (three hours) to find a new driver. If he didn’t, he would most likely be fired from his job and sent to live on the dusty salt plains. He decided to head to town on his personal hover bike. He hunted around for the next three sun rotations searching shop keepers, repairers, anyone who worked in a job that might be slightly related to motor-race driving. Nothing. He was doomed.

Dotormain returned to the main camp with a sad look on his face. His assistant commander, Masiuh, came over to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I need one more driver,” Dotormain replied.

“Darn,” he said, “Maybe I can help?”

“No, it is too late.”

Dotormain walked off to the Head Fleet Commander’s office almost exactly on time, leaving Masiuh looking on at him.

He knocked on the door and a gruff voice answered him.

“Come in.”

He slowly opened the door with a long creak. Instantly, he became very nervous.

“Ahh, Dotormain, I trust you have found the ten drivers,” he said.

“No, sir,” replied Dotormain.

There was a very loud grunting noise from his throat and then he growled like a bull.

“WHAT!” he yelled.

“But sir, the last driver crashed…” Dotormain tried to justify his mistake.

“NO! YOU DON’T DISRESPECT YOUR HEAD COMMANDER!”

“But sir …”

“NO! YOUR TIME IS UP! LEAVE THIS PLACE!”

With that, Dotormain turned to the door, opened it, and left the room.

On the other side of the universe was the planet Horus. This was where the dreadful Arcarnaries lived. They were amassing their forces fast. Their armies were a mass of spiders and scorpions crossed together, which sucked blood as well as inflicting venom. These were horrible, gruesome creatures. They were celebrating tonight as they had just had a major victory, blowing up the third biggest base in The Orinos legion. There was an extravagant party. But one person was out of place.

This was Lisha. She was very small. She had been born too small and deformed to ever join the battalion, but she watched every battle, every victory. She always felt left out, like she couldn’t do anything to help. She didn’t know what to do.

Lisha planned to run away and find a new home far away from this horrible place. She had never liked the ways the Arcarnaries fought. She wanted to be free from the war.

This was the big day. She was going to sneak aboard an escape pod and leave this planet, searching for a better world to live in. She found the armory and disguised herself as a guard. She then followed the other guards into the ship vessels and positioned herself next to an empty escape pod. Soldiers were jumping in and out of the pods, scouting the area around the planet.

Lisha timed it perfectly. She jumped at the guard beside her, knocked him over, and proceeded to jump into the escape pod and take off. The other guards sat there, astonished, as she flew off. Then, the cannons started firing. One of the bullets hit her engine. She was going to crash!

Meanwhile, Dotormain trudged off to his workshop. He was angry. He had to do something to show that man. He knew he could pull it off. He got to work. This was going to be the moment in his life where he could say this: ‘never underestimate Dotormain!’.…

CRASH!

That was all Lisha heard. The smashing of the pod against the hard earth. The shell cracking open as she entered the atmosphere of a new world. She would start again and forget all that had happened. She could live a new life, far away from the vicious war she had once been a part of. Lisha stepped out. The harsh lack of oxygen hit her like a tidal wave. She collapsed. She felt terrible and was gasping for breath. Somehow, she had landed on the wrong planet.

…

Lisha woke to the mysterious feeling of floating in some sort of liquid. She opened her eyes. She appeared to be sitting in some sort of

workshop. She was surprised she could breathe. The liquid obviously contained oxygen. A human face was studying her.

“Hello,” it said, “how are you feeling? You had a rough landing, are you hurt?”

Lisha snarled. She didn’t like this human.

Dotormain puzzled over the specimen he found while out in the desert. Somehow, this Arcarnarie suffered a blast from her ship, fell and miraculously survived. He puzzled over this, as well as how the parts he found would be useful for his shielding mechanism. He was going to show those ignorant little brats that he was needed more than ever to win this war. The Arcarnarie continued to grunt and groan as it floated in the suspension of the water.

“It’s okay,” he soothed her.

He flipped a switch. A blue forcefield fizzled to life. He threw a rock at it. It bounced off.

“Yes!” he cried.

The Arcarnarie twitched. Its eyes lit up.

Lisha was fascinated. How did this human make such advanced technology? She started to bang on the chamber, trying to get out. Lisha fired her laser eye. Crash! The chamber burst open and the suspension instantly lifted. The Orino screamed and tried to stop the flow of the water. Lisha instantly reacted, opening her mouth and sucking in all the water. By the time she had finished, the technology was unharmed, and she was massive. She quickly dumped the water down a storm drain on the floor of the lab.

Dotormain was thankful. With all that water, it would have destroyed all his hard work for good. He was amazed at how the Arcarnarie could hold so much in its mouth. It clambered over to him and spoke in its

native language. Fortunately, his portable translator could translate what it was saying.

“Hello, my name is Lisha,” the translator’s robotic voice said. “I want to help you with this. I like it.”

She touched the forcefield thoughtfully.

“Well, we better get to work then,” Dotormain said.

…

Dotormain suited up, strapped in his harness and boarded his speeder. It was normally meant for staying on the ground, but he had equipped it for space travel. Lisha strapped herself into the gunner seat and set the controls. There was a loud whoosh, and the engines fired up. Lisha and Dotormain zoomed through the clouds and into space.

…

Boom!

Crash!

Lasers flew through space as a tiny craft weaved in between them. This was the war. The greatest war of all time. The intergalactic space war. Between two deadly enemies. And there was no light of hope that it would end. This was how savage the war was, never ending. Dotormain hoped he had a good plan, or all would be lost. As they flew out to join the rest of the fleet, a thunderous explosion was heard. A giant Arcarnarie hive ship exploded in a massive ball of fire.

As Dotormain flew towards the mothership, he braced for the heavy fire. It came suddenly, firing viciously and rapidly, ready for the kill. Enemy strike ships zoomed out, ready to strike. The shields were working. The ship was under heavy fire, the shields blocking every shot. He looked at the battery. It was already down to 50%. How long would it hold on?

Lisha fired furiously, taking out ship after ship as they flew towards to mothership. She too was very worried. Her ammo was running low, with only 55 bullets left. She held on tight; they were going in.

A million things happened in roughly a second. The mothership launched a flurry of high-powered missiles and shields hit zero. There were ten bullets remaining. Their hull was severely damaged.

As they zoomed the final stretch towards the main engine, Lisha aimed five bullets at the remaining ships. Dotormain pulled up.

“Now Lisha!” he cried.

Suddenly, a big explosion hit the ship. The left engine was damaged. They were spinning out of control! Lisha realized and took aim. She fired her last 5 shots at the engine.

Kaboom!

The engine exploded in a ball of fire as they spiraled out of control towards the nearby planet of Dormortor. The galaxy was safe once again.

Right or Wrong by

Beck Walker

‘A goal without a plan is just a wish’

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry – Author of The Little Prince

Simon’s heart pounded low and fast, and his shallow, soft breathing seemed so loud in his ears. His heart did a flip as the door creaked, causing the guard to stir in his sleep. Ducking under the window, he prayed he would not be seen. He sighed with relief as the guard mumbled, before turning over and going back to sleep. He then stood up and slipped his body through the narrow gap in the heavy oak door.

“So, you’re telling me,” Archer bellowed, finding it impossible to contain his anger. “That after the four weeks we spent planning this little robbery, you want out because you don’t need the money.” Will gulped as Archers deep, gruff voice echoed around the room.

“Th-That’s not what I said.” Will stammered.

“Shut up and quit the garbage. I’m not dumb. You’re just chicken.” He was really getting mad now.

“But”

“No buts. Just shut up and get out of here. I’ll do it on my own.” Will nodded, looked down at the mess on the floor trying to avoid eye contact and made his way out of the place as fast as he could.

Simon tiptoed past the sleepy security guard and entered the code he had spent hours memorizing, wincing as the machine beeped. Cogs began to grind, and the door popped open with a loud clunk. Panicking, he squished his slender body behind the nearest filing cabinet,

desperately hoping the guard had not heard the loud noise. When he felt sure the coast was clear he slipped out from behind the cabinet but stopped having seen something. He crept back to where the security guard was resting and grabbed a sugary doughnut. He then walked out of the office, silently clicking the door behind him.

“Should a know he was weak in the head.” Archer muttered, shaking his head. “All the more money for me then!” He said, doing his best sinister voice. He then reached into the pockets of his brown cargo pants, producing a simple black walkie talkie. It crackled to life as he turned it on. “Knuckles, Hoofer, there has been a slight change of plans. Report to my office at once.” He barked into the gadget and then attached the strap onto his right pocket. He then shoved a massive cigar into his mouth, taking a deep breath in and coughed loudly as he breathed out a dark cloud of smoke. He then strutted to the wall and flipped a red lever. The doors swung open, and he sat himself down on a big office chair, gesturing for his bulky henchmen to approach the desk. “Will quit.” He said matter-of-factly.

“So do you want us to bash him then?” Hoofer asked. The man clearly wasn’t the brightest spark. “No silly,” Knuckles cried. “He wants us to go and get the equipment for the robbery.” Archer grinned an ugly smile made up of yellow and crooked teeth. “Exactly.” He then snapped his fingers, and the two men walked out of his office.

Simon checked his watch as he sat down in a comfy armchair and ate his doughnut. “Good.” He whispered. It read 1:15 – He had half an hour. He looked up into the dark corridor, working out where exactly he was. To the left there were dozens of large round doors, all around two metres squared, reinforced by thick steel walls only accessible by a code. He looked up and read that the one closest to him was Vault 348. Straight ahead was a snaking path to the other side of the bank. He would need to follow that path to get to Vault 097. He turned his head and found himself looking at offices. Just as he was getting ready to get going again, he made himself a mental note – Remember to write a

note to Mum in case things didn’t go to plan. The 21-year-old scratched his acne and set back off.

As he walked down the road, Will swore to himself he would never let that loser boss him around like that again. It wasn’t until his phone pinged that he thought of calling the police. He then picked up the pace and walked down to his front door and rung up the police. “Let’s see who will be regretting their decision soon.” He whispered, smiling.

“Are you ready boss?” Knuckles called out over the top of the engines roar. The trio were in black body suits, had a small head piece on and a pistol strapped to their pants. When he got the thumbs up, he threw an old potato sack into the back of the boat and stepped hard on the accelerator, sending them off into the night down the river. All was going well, when another boat went flying past, full throttle. “Hold on guys.” Knuckles yelled before making a sharp left turn. He then drove as fast as he could away from the view of the approaching police speed boat. He waited until the police boat was out of sight before speeding back on the route.

He checked his watch and sighed, frustrated. He had walked what felt like a kilometre, and he was only at Vault 187. He had fifteen minutes until they would be there. He stopped and wandered over to a water dispenser and let the cool liquid run down his throat. He wiped his sweaty brow and continued to walk around the bend. After what felt like forever, he arrived at Vault 097. He took his backpack off and produced some rope and a camera. He slipped the rope in his pocket; he would need that later and hid the camera in a pot plant hitting film. It was all going perfectly to plan.

The tension grew between Archer and his men as they pulled up to the dock. They could see the bank, not far in the distance. They hopped out of the boat and dragged the boat onto the shore, hiding it within

some bushes. Soon enough, they were outside the bank. “All right guys, just let me do the work. All I need you to do is follow me and keep watch” Archer whispered as he got his lock pick out ready.

“Erm Boss, the door is already open.” Hoofer pointed out, causing his boss to freeze.

“What did you just say.” Archer asked, a hint of fear trickling into his voice.

“The door is open boss; we can just go straight in.”

Archer shook his head, telling himself all was fine. After all it was probably just the security guard. He gestured for them to follow as he walked through the door. The three of them tiptoed past the guard, stopping every time they stepped on a creaky old floorboard. When they hit the back of the room, Archer stepped aside as Knuckles entered the code. The door clunked open, but the guard was in a deep sleep, allowing them to continue their way easily down the corridor.

Simon stood and waited from behind a water dispenser. He checked his watch impatiently. They should be here any minute. He had the plan in his head, he would jump out from behind and tie them up before calling the police. But the best bit was that he could hand the footage on to the papers. He would become a hero.

Before long Archer found himself running down the corridors, his feet making pattering sounds on the cold stone floors. He looked back to see how far back his henchmen were and was relieved to see that they were right behind him. They continued along, his eyes darting up checking the vault numbers. They slowed to a walk as they came within the last five or so vaults. He gave a little fist pump knowing they were about to get the money, but they still had to get out. He stepped aside and let Knuckles enter the code once again. They had all grabbed onto the door and began to pull.

Now was Simon’s chance! He jumped out of his hidey-hole and tried to tie them up with rope. Archer and his men turned around brandishing pistols. “Well, well, well. What do we have here. A little hero trying to stop me.” He said, surprising Simon with his calm tone. “WELL, YOU’RE GOING TO FAIL. BECAUSE NO ONE STOPS ME.” Simon jumped back, startled by the sudden change of tone. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted the rope. All it needed was a good knot and they would not be able to move. He said nothing. Just like that, he made his move lunging at the getting his hands on the rope. BANG! Gunshots echoed around him, and Archer yanked the rope out of his hands. “Your little plan has not gone very well, has it?” Archer said, his gruff voice downplaying the antagonizing tone intended.

“Shut up!” said Simon. “You needed henchmen just to get into this place.” He ducked as Archer swung a fist at him but slipped. Archer wandered over to him and towered over him.

“You’re going down.” He said before kicking him in the stomach. But he didn’t think it through because Simon grabbed his leg and dragged him down. Within seconds they were rolling around on the floor, swinging punches and knees at each other. Blood began to form into a puddle on the floor because of the fight.

“ENOUGH!” The pair of them fell apart, surprised by the voice. They looked over and saw a police man standing two or three metres away holding a taser. Archer jumped up and pointed his pistol right at the police man. “Oh, no you don’t,” said the police man. “Put your weapons down right now or I will shoot you all.” Archer listened and his men followed. Simon stood up of the ground, speaking first. “Thank You Officer, I was just trying to stop these guys rob the bank.” He smiled, happy with the work he had done. But clearly the officer did not think so.

“Normally I would be congratulating you, but how exactly did you get in here. You don’t look like a security guard to me.” Simon felt a deep sinking feeling in his stomach. He had focused so much on becoming a hero, he had committed a crime in the process. “I’m sorry Officer, it’s just ever since I was a kid I have wanted to become a hero, so when I

heard the plans, I didn’t do my own planning well.” He stepped back and pressed the stop on the camera, placing it in his backpack.

“I know you meant well kid, but I am going to have to take you back to the station. I am just doing my job.” Simon nodded, sadly. He felt flat in the car ride. More officers had arrived to deliver Archer and his men straight to the jail. He sat in silence waiting for his name to be called to speak to the judge. He knew what he had done was wrong and did not try and argue his way out of it. He walked out tears in his eyes to his mum’s open arms. When they had finished, he felt a tap on the back. He looked up and saw they officer from the bank.

“Ya know, you did well out there today. Archer is the most wanted criminal and is notoriously known for well planning his ‘little robberies’. You should look at training to become an officer just like me.” Simon’s tears turned into a laugh.

“You really think I could do that?” He asked happily.

“Yeah!” We need youngsters desperately.

“All right.” Simon said. “I’ll look into it.”

He went home having learnt an important lesson – without a good plan good things won’t happen.

The

Scout Named Owen by Owen Barnett

6:30 pm, 4th of September 2024

“Unit Alert, unit face the flag, unit salute, unit at ease, leaders,” said Isabella, starting off parade.

“Alright scouts, tonight we will be making survival kits and first aid kits, so when we break off, please get a table and enough chairs for each patrol,” said Croc.

“Unit alert, unit break off,” said Isabella, finishing off the opening.

With that, we split off into patrols. As a patrol leader, I instructed my patrol on what to do. In about five minutes, all the patrols were seated around tables, chatting away. Soon, the leaders began calling patrols up one at a time to collect items for the survival kits. As usual, my patrol was last because we always go clockwise and sit in the same spot.

When it was finally our turn, the leaders passed us our equipment. It included six cotton tips, six cotton balls, a survival bracelet, an emergency blanket, a bin bag, one meter of aluminium foil, matches, a firelighter, a fishing set (including a hook, weight, and line), four rubber bands, two pop-sticks, a plastic spoon, and two bandages. We packed everything together in a small shortbread Christmas tin. After that, we collected our first aid kit and checked the contents. Once we packed everything up, we moved to closing parade. That night, Jet had his investiture, and several of us received badges, including Night Hawk, Milestones, and OAS.

5:30 pm, 6th of September 2024

The vibration of the bus seat travelled up my spine as it shuddered down Gwilliam Drive, bouncing over the speed bumps. We reached the intersection and turned left, heading toward Adventure World, where I usually get off the bus. DING. The bus button rang, echoing through the bus. I was in my group uniform, ready for camp after changing in the school gym. I just needed to get to Manjedal, where the group camp would be held that year.

As I thought about supper at camp, the bus came to a stop. I grabbed my school bag and PE bag, tagged off, and hopped off the bus where my mum was waiting with my brothers and another kid I didn’t know. Apparently, we were giving him a lift to help his parents. We set off for Byford, where Manjedal is located. About 50 minutes later, we reached the dirt track leading to the gate of Manjedal.

BANG. The sound of the explosion burst in my eardrums. The car rolled into the valley. I was stuck in my seat, hearing people yell and seeing the orange lights of the MAC activity cars. And then... it all went black.

“Owen, can you hear me?” my scout leader asked as I slowly regained consciousness.

“Owen, can you hear me?” they repeated. I sat up, noticing several bandages wrapped around my right leg.

“What can you remember?”

“I can remember the car rolling down the hill and then... everything going black,” I said, piecing together my thoughts.

“Well, buddy, you broke your leg. The paramedics said you could stay, but you’ll need to be in a wheelchair for the weekend.”

I nodded, trying to process everything. Eventually, I realized I was lying on a stretcher made of staves and cloth, placed on the dining shelter table. Once I was ready, the leaders lowered me into the wheelchair so I could move around and participate in most activities, like cooking and first aid. Let’s just say the weekend wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.

9:00 am, 8th of September 2024

After breakfast, as we started packing up, I chatted with my buddy, who had been helping me get around at school last week. We talked about music, creative writing club, different clubs, classes, teachers, and a bunch of other things. I felt myself wobble on my seat as my eyes started to close. Then I heard my friend calling for the leaders and the paramedic who had just arrived. Once again, everything went dark, with blue and red lights, people shouting, someone providing medical attention, and then... the sound of the dining shelter collapsing.

And then... nothing.

Peril in Sophoria: The Dream Forms

by Jack McGunnigle

Thrash and crash! sounded the waves of sand as they clashed against the hull of the ship, Anaxagoras. Black balls of whirling mist flew past, barely missing the vessel. Under the moonlit, starry night sky, the ship's captain, Archimedes, smirked confidently. He wore solid black clothing from head to toe, including thick leather boots leading up to a lean pair of pants, and a long coat draping past his knees, wrapped at the waist with two thick belts. His face was partially concealed by a scarf fluttering in the wind, while a pair of circular glasses glowed as brightly as the moon. Upon his head rested a tricorne hat reminiscent of a swashbuckling sailor.

Suddenly, a mass of writhing chains tipped with harpoon heads shot out from beneath the sand, piercing into the hull with a splintering crack. The boards groaned loudly, echoing as though the ship itself cried out in pain. As the ship halted, a trickle of non-existent sweat began to roll down Archimedes' forehead.

‘Nah, it’s fine. If it’s up here, it can’t be that big of a deal,’ he thought.

Yet as if to mock his confidence, three mismatched, rusted hooks shot over the starboard, snagging the port railing. The chains attached to the hooks creaked as they hauled an oppressive mass onto the deck: a shambling horror of barbed wire, chains, fishing line, fishhooks,

needles, and scissors. Archimedes could swear he saw an eyeball embedded within the mass, watching him.

Unwilling to ponder its implications, he unholstered his black flintlock pistol, intricately decorated with silver tendrils, and fired three rounds at the creature. The abomination seemed unfazed and unimpressed.

At a loss for what to do, Archimedes hesitated, unwilling to touch the rolling tetanus hazard. Then, struck by inspiration, he unsheathed his rapier its blade shimmering with moonlight and performed an upward slash. A wave of light burst forth, and instantly, a glowing figure appeared: another Archimedes, shining as brightly as a tailgating truck's headlights at midnight. The vestige, nearly featureless in its brightness, held an identical rapier.

"Go forth, my luminous compatriot, and slay this odious beast!," Archimedes proclaimed theatrically.

The vestige charged forward silently, its rapier thrusting into the metallic mass. The creature responded by enveloping the vestige in chains, fishing wire, and barbed wire. As it prepared to tear into its prey, the vestige burst into a flash of light, dispersing like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

Archimedes stood still, thinking. As he considered a strategic retreat, a piercing whistle filled his ears, rising higher and higher until… crash! Something black and blurry smashed through the deck, landing in the ship's hull, with the metal monstrosity falling into the hole alongside it.

Cautiously, Archimedes approached the hole and leaned over to peer inside. Dust swirled, obscuring his view, as a low growl echoed from below. He stepped back, listening carefully for movement, hoping his fears were unfounded. But suddenly, a long, disjointed arm reached out, gnarled fingers clawing into the floorboards. Another arm, disproportionate to the first, followed, sinking its claws into the deck.

The creature he saw defied description: a black, skeletal horror with a tiger’s acid-splashed skull, a dorsal fin, and a bloated torso sewn beneath its ribcage. As it pulled itself onto the deck, Archimedes' relief turned to dread.

From the pit came a grinding metallic shriek, and the shambling horror rocketed back onto the starboard side. Now, flanked by monstrosities, Archimedes thought it couldn’t get worse until it did.

A woman soared from the pit on onyx-black, bat-like wings. Landing gracefully, she walked forward, dressed in a sharp black suit. Her eyes were unlike any Archimedes had ever seen: sclera as dark as obsidian and irises that glowed gold, like a black hole’s ring.

"Hello, sweetheart~," she teased, her voice sickly sweet.

Normally, Archimedes would banter back, but terror kept him silent. Thinking quickly, he aimed his pistol at his head, ready to end the nightmare himself. But before he could pull the trigger, a harpoon, tipped with barbed steel, shot out, lodging into the barrel and disarming him.

“Ah, ah, ah… It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye~,” she purred, gesturing with a finger for him to join her.

Archimedes realized he had to retreat. All I need is five seconds in the captain's quarters, he thought, his mind racing. Pretending he would respond to her taunt, he launched into a desperate sprint. The woman’s smirk fell to a frown as she signalled to her monstrous companion, which lunged after him and seized him by the legs, hoisting him into the air.

"No! No! Aaaaahhhh!" he yelled though he would insist it was in a very manly way as he flailed in its grasp. Panic welled within him, not from the creature itself, but from the horrors the woman intended.

The beast hopped back onto the deck, holding him fast. As the woman approached, her leather shoes clicking against the chipped wood, she crouched to eye level with Archimedes, smiling thinly.

"I remember the day we first met, all those years ago," she said warmly, touching the spot where his nose would be. Then, her smile faded. “So, of course, this won’t pain me one bit.”

She placed her hands on his temples, and Archimedes felt an agonising pain erupt in his head. A friend’s face flashed through his mind, fading as he sank into darkness.

Desperate, Archimedes called out to his only ally his ship. Like any good captain, he could command his vessel. Responding to his plea, the Anaxagoras tipped into a barrel roll, throwing everyone overboard. As they splashed into the sand, Archimedes unsheathed his rapier and slit his throat, denying his enemy the victory.

He woke up.

It had all been a dream of sorts.

Archimedes, or rather William Jones, sat up in his bed, wiping cold sweat from his face.

“Epiales. Epiales! What the hell was she doing in the third stratum?”

His heart pounded furiously. Glancing at his phone, he saw it was 10:24 p.m. He scrolled to find Abigale Herkoff’s contact and called, but she declined. After several more tries, he gave up and bolted from his apartment. But as he reached the door, he noticed he was drenched in sweat.

Maybe this can wait a minute, he thought, heading to the shower.

Moments later, freshly dressed, he left for the hospital. At the front desk, he was directed to room A113 Alan Herkoff’s room. He reached for the door but hesitated, taking a deep breath before entering.

Inside, Abigale glared at him. He rushed to speak before she could dismiss him.

"I saw Epiales on the third stratum!" he blurted out. His friends those he considered friends, at least sat in chairs around Alan’s bed, staring in stunned silence.

Abigale approached him, her dark eyes filled with disdain. “Explain,” she demanded. Will recounted his dream, down to every unnerving detail, feeling sceptical eyes on him. Finally, Abigale addressed the

group, announcing, “Operation Opfern will now commence. I will be the lamb.”

The room erupted in protest, and William yelled, “I’LL DO IT!” His voice silenced them. Reluctantly, Abigale nodded, and they all agreed. "We'll see you on Manning Street," she said grimly.

That night, William arrived at an abandoned mill. Abigale and Rick waited inside, ready to begin the ritual. Trembling, William lay down, prepared for the procedure. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he sensed tears in Abigale’s eyes.

Once more, Archimedes found himself on the Anaxagoras, facing the immense black wave in the desert sands. A sailor in a British uniform appeared at the helm.

“There’s no going back now, Archimedes.”

“I know, Rick,” he replied.

Then, the sharply dressed woman, Epiales, stepped forward, her tone mocking.

“Is this your plan? To die together?”

"Exactly," Archimedes said, his voice steady.

As Epiales realized the enormity of his resolve, the desert itself began to quake, a consuming darkness rising to meet them.

“You fool! You’ll kill us both!”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, lowering his scarf and glasses, exposing his face to the inevitable end.

Rat Trap

By Andrew Kelly

The stairs creaked loudly as I crept through the dark hallway. It was the dark of night, with the moon shining brightly down, stretching its evil hands toward my house. I tripped and fell, causing a loud bump. I stood and listened. Nothing. I continued. As I opened the door to the attic, dust was going everywhere. I searched around, trying desperately to find that box that contained all my hopes and dreams.

It was the smell that hit first. And rather than simply wafting up my nostrils it assaulted me with the most offensive scent. Rats. I knew it. What had they gotten into this time? I carefully took a small step towards the window. I wanted to open it, get some moonlight into the attic. I inched towards the window. Something scuttled along the floor. I stopped, and every muscle in my body tensed. Nothing. All was silent.

I eventually reached the window. The old bars were rusted and damaged beyond repair. I tried to push the window open. It gave a loud groan of metal on metal. I stopped. More scuttling. Closer now. I had to get out of here. The window finally gave way and moonlight streamed into the room. I slowly turned my head. There were rats everywhere, their beady eyes staring up at me.

A loud scream escaped my throat. I dived behind the old wooden cupboard as they slowly advanced towards me. I held my breath listening to the scuttling. Nothing. The moon passed behind a cloud, destroying the life-saving light in the room. All was dark. All I felt was the scratch of a claw and the touch of fur.

That was all I could hear. I sprang out of bed, running up the hall. “Bradley!” I called. I ran to his room. He wasn’t there. I searched the house. Heard nothing. Saw nothing. No sign. No trace. Where did my grandson go????

May 22nd, 2048

“Are you sure that you’re ready?” said mum as I was leaving home that night, “yes mum I am 100% sure” I said while saying goodbye for the rest of my life “My taxi will be here soon”, “ok son, keep safe on your 541-year journey” she said as I walked out the front. Soon after she came out the front to say her final goodbye, teary in her eyes as she hugged me as tight as she could. Then my taxi pulled up I kissed my mum and said that I will always love her and got in the taxi saying goodbye for the last time. I had packed my bags with everything I had, and my boxes were set to the launch site 2 weeks ago to be put into the cargo bay of our spaceship.

A few hours later I arrived at the launch site my two best friends were waiting and so was my love. We went to the dormitory for a big night’s rest before our big day tomorrow. We all sat down to eat, and we were all excited but nervous at the same time, after we all ate, we went to sleep for the long day we would have tomorrow, we were going to need it.

May 23rd, 2048

The next morning me and my friends woke up and had breakfast before preparing to get on the rocket. Once everyone out of the one thousand people had eaten breakfast for the last time on earth we got on to the rocket, which had everything to start a civilisation, we got ready to take off. “You guys ready for the best adventure we have ever had?” “of course I am” replied Emma, “heck yea” said Lucas and Leo, “absolutely” replied Declan and Will. So, with that everyone had gotten on the rocket and gotten ready for the count down. TMINS, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, LIFT OFF, and with that the rockets were in the sky and on its way to Home Planet 1.

August 29th, 2048

Dum, Di, Doo, good morning passengers, this morning may we please ask you to prepare for hyper sleep, we have double ones for couples and single one for lonely people, once you are ready, please come to the hyper sleep room, Doo, Di, Dum. “Well guys I guess we should make our way of to the hyper sleep room guys” I said to my friends as we

finish up our breakfast, “so am I with you Owen” said Emma “because I guess that we are a couple”, “ok Emma, I agree with you on this one”, “Declan you ready yet” said will wait for Declan who was taking his sweet time, “yep I am, and don’t rush me” he screamed from the other side of the room. So, with that we made our way for then cafeteria and headed towards the hyper sleep room.

December 23rd, 2358

BANG! “What the? Emma are you there?” “5 more minutes”, “NO, get up, this is important,” “fine,”. Beep, beep, beep, tisssss, “Emma what is happening,” “I do not know,” So we got out of the pod as it had opened and went to look what was happening. The lights were on, but no one else was awake, we were alone, but we ether had to survive for another two hundred years or figure out what was wrong with the sleep pod, but we did not know that. “Emma lets go to the mission briefing room and we will go from there, the A.I. flight attendants will know what to do,” “Ok, let us go then Owen.” So, we went to the mission briefing room and asked the A.I. flight attendants what to do, and they said this, “Good morning, Owen and Emma, how may I help you?” “Can you please tell us why we were woken up earlier then everyone else,” I replied in worry, “You were woken up early because there is something wrong with the ship, and the captain can’t figure it out, so that is why we woke you up Owen, as you are amazing with working with hydrogen and electronics,” “so what do I do?” “Go and see the captain on the bridge and he will tell you what to do,” “thankyou” I replied as me and Emma left the briefing room and went to the bridge were the captain was waiting for us.

When we arrived at the bridge, we met the captain and his name was, Jeffery Notgoodatflyingspacships the II, “hello Owen and Emma, how are you today?” “Were good thank you” I replied, “what is wrong with the ship?” “Well, you see” he started “3 of our 6 engines have lost full power and we think there is either something wrong with the system or there is something wrong with the main engine”. “So how can we help?” I said getting worried we were not going to make to our destination. “Well,” he said, “the reason I woke you 2 up is because, A,

Emma and you were both in the same pod and we just need you Owen, and B, you have a degree in Hydrogen and Hydroelectric”. So, he went on for another thirty minutes before he finally told us to get plenty rest as we would have a big day ahead.

December 24th, 2358

Beep, beep, beep, beep. “uhm” I said as I turned off the alarm to get up and get ready to fix the captain’s ship. “Emma” I said, “come on, we need to get up and get ready for the day.” I looked over at my phone and saw that it was the 24th of December and realized it was my birthday tomorrow and its Christmas eve. I could not wait; I just woke Emma ASAP. “COME ON!” I yelled. Did I tell you that she really likes to sleep, but that did not work. So, I got up and headed for the bridge where I met the captain, “where is Emma?” he asked, “Asleep” I replied, “She is a deep sleeper.” “ok” he said, “Let’s get started then, you need to go to the armoury and in there is space suits and plenty of tools that you will need to fix the engine, now again I am sending you to do this as you work in hydrogen and I did my training for this 10 years ago, I can’t remember how to fix it, remember that,” “ok” I replied as I walked off to the armoury.

When I reached the armoury, I got in my space suit and got all my gear. I set off for the airlock where I would jump into space. Once I reached the airlock, I saw Emma and the Captain. “We are shutting of the engines, so you don’t get hurt while you are out there repairing the engine,” he said being serious now. “thanks” I replied, “I promise I will do my best do get the job done.” So, with that I walked into the airlock, and I was released into space.

Once I was in space, I turned on my boosters and went over to the engine where I found a door, once I went in it, I instantly found the issue. The main fuel pipe was disconnected and luckily the emergency shut down automatically activated. So, with that I grabbed my tools and repaired all the pipes and turned off the shut down and the engine was as good as new. So, with that I left the engine bay and headed back to the airlock, where the captain and Emma was waiting for me. They opened the airlock for me and once I was in, I said very confidently, “Power her up cap, she ready to get moving,” so with that

the captain ran off to the bridge and me and Emma headed back to the sleep pods were. We would spend the rest of our trip asleep.

April 12th, 2589

Beep, Beep, Beep, Tisss. “Good morning, everyone” boomed the intercom as we all woke up. “Once you are ready head to the dining hall for breakfast,” “Come on Emma,” I said, shaking her awake, “let’s go get some breakfast”. “Ok” she said jumping out of bed. So, with that we walked over to the dining hall and when we got there, we saw Lucas and Leo sitting at the table where we sat for the first time. “Hey guys” they said in synchronisation, “how was your sleep,” “I am not sure we can say that we slept as much as you,” I said, “we had to repair the ship as no one else new how to.” They just sat there and looked at me, “you what,” said Lucas. At that moment, the captain walks by and noticed that I was there and said in a really loud voice, “THANKS FOR FIXING THE SHIP, OWEN, I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD COME AND SAY THANKYOU FOR SAVING THEM!” with that I was the most popular person on the ship.

May 22nd, 2589

“I am just going to go and check the engines, because the engine can’t be damaged by that unless it was on purpose.” I said to the captain, “ok” he replied, “I will send the engineers out with you so they can help.” With that I met the engineers in the armoury, and we geared up and headed to the airlock. “Ok guys we are going to go into the engine bay and see if the tool they used, then we will give it to the detectives on board and get them to figure print it, ok,” I said being very serious about it, “yes sir!” they replied like robots. With that the airlock opened and we were on our way to the main engine bay again.

When we got there we found that the engine that I repaired was still intact but the other 2 weren’t, so we looked around and you will not believe what we found, it was Larfield, and he was screaming “I hate Tuesday!!!” while he was betting the crap out the other engines. “Scarfield” I called out, “if you continue this the whole engine bay will explode and we will all be dead in an instant,” “fine,” he replied, “I will stop if I get 10 trays of lasagna, then we have a deal,” “ok” I replied “go back with these 2 and let us fix the engines,” “ok” he said

as he started coming towards the group, once he left the engine bay we got to work and fixed all the engine and called it a day and went back to the main ship and got a huge ceremony to congratulate me and my team for saving everyone from blowing up from the hydrogen engines.

January 15th, 2609

“This is the life,” I said sitting down on the porch and seeing our new civilisation thrive 20 years after we landed, “I agree,” said Emma as she walked out with a platter of food, “and it’s our 3 year anniversary today as well,” “well let’s make today last and go out for dinner tonight with our friends and celebrate,” I replied, “I already made reservations, as I am the new minister of power after all,” I said as we sat down and enjoyed our new home on Home Planet 1.

Flames lick at my feet

Fire in the forest

By Alex Lafuente

Their beautiful glow full of deceit

The raging of the flames swallow me up

And in the morning, I know that I will look yuk.

The rains started deep into the night

Finaly putting an end to the flame's wrath

I feel burnt and bruised

I know that in the end I will regrow for I am an oak

The most beautiful of trees.

Fire is dangerous

It always needs to feed It won't ever stop.

A surgery

He would need

To again

Freely Breath.

He was filled with dread.

Seeing the doctor’s head

Coming round

The corner.

Hello Johnny!

She said.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Shall we go?’

She grabbed his bed

He shook his head

And told her

He was scared.

The

Surgery by Beck Walker

‘You won’t feel a thing’ Then the lift went ping She wheeled him in And pressed for level 2.

They went straight up.

A man said ‘Sup’ And just like that They were there.

‘Hi’ said a man

“My name is Dan” I’m here to put you asleep.

The gas will smell Like strawberry gel. But feel free to coat it in a lip balm that smells sweet. He did just that. Then up he sat And pressed the mask To his face.

‘You have to breathe in Put this under your chin, And then, please Lie back down.’

He did as told And began to feel cold. And braced for The smell

It was the smell

That hit him first. And rather than just Wafting up his nostrils. It assaulted him With the most Offensive scent.

Tears streamed

He gasped And gaged Before falling asleep. And when he woke.

He had an icy pole

That tasted like Coke

Having forgotten the whole thing.

The maze

By Alex Lafuente

Mazes full of twists and turns, Dead ends litter the passages, As well as ferns,

A place of secrets and mysteries, Some mazes are square were as others round, Some lost to histories, One thing that they all have in common is it is always hard to get out, Until you do you will always have a doubt, Here and there a way through, until you reach the center, The maze always wins.

The Storm

By Alex Lafuente

The rustle of leaves and the creek of branches echoes in the open air,

A storm is coming, a big one

The slap of waves on the shore is growing more frequent, As the roaring clouds close in on the mainland, A fork of lighting is blinding as the crash and boom of thunder grows louder and LOUDER and LO

UDER,

Until swish the sound dies down the trees stop their wild swaying and plant their roots firmly again,

The slap of waves on the shore slowly stops as the storm dies out at sea,

The pitter patter of rain starts up.

The crows and the beast

The crows cawed from the treetops

Their cry filling the darkening night

Their caw filled every space of every place

The cave that the cry reached stirred the beast

Its eyes opened filled with malice and hate

Blood smeared the cave floor from the beast's last catch

Future Void

By Oliver Watkin

Blake stood at his bathroom sink. He gripped his toothbrush hard, scrubbing at his teeth. He had just had breakfast and was getting ready for school. He rinsed his brush and grabbed his bag. Blake was born in the year 2099 he was eleven years old. Blake ran down the stairs to the elevator. The doors pinged and he stepped inside. The elevator was white with blue lights and a massive window overlooking the city. The city was beautiful. It was like the northern lights that you can actually touch. The elevator shot downwards really fast. Luckily everyone's shoes had electromagnets in them keeping them to the elevator floor when inside. It took about 5 seconds for the elevator to get to the bottom floor of the massive skyscraper he lived in. He rushed out the doors into the lobby of the building. The lobby was massive. It had red carpet with gold stitching, it had long giant curtains, red in colour. There was a massive fish tank on one side of the room with a variety of fish and rocks in red, green, purple, yellow, and mores. At the front of the lobby next to the sliding doors there was two guards standing in heavy armour with blaster rifles in hand. They looked scary, Blake thought as he walked out the doors. He looked up and saw the 800 story skyscraper shooting up in the clouds. Blake walked down the street towards his school. It was located in the middle area of the city Aerialax in which he lived. It was a busy day. The hover cars were speeding along the dusty roads and many people gathered at the Aerialax markets. Blake continued walking down the road, a hover car beeped loudly and sped passed him, spraying dust up into his eyes. Blake rubbed his face to get the muck off of him. He then continued down the street until he reached the gates to the centre region of the town. The centre

region was the richest area. There was guards everywhere guarding the gates the shops the buildings. Everything in the centre circle was fancy, heated floor, there was chandeliers in the lobbies of every single building. The floors were the cleanest you would have ever seen. You might be thinking why is Blake going into the centre circle well that’s because that’s where the school is located.

The school was a magnificent building it had high towers shooting up into the sky overlooking the entire city. It had two rather large sliding electromagnetic doors. Blake walked to the front of the mighty tower. The two doors slid open and Blake stepped inside. The mighty entrance stood before him the reception desk was to the side in a corner taking over half the room. Blake was running 5 minutes late to class. He gulped as he ran through the corridors of the school to his locker. He picked out his holo pad with his textbooks on it and ran straight to his first class: Math. Math was awful, the worst subject. It was so boring that he almost fell asleep sometimes. He headed down the corridor to math. He got to the door; he was now 8 minutes late. The door swung open to reveal Blakes classroom. Heads turned and the teacher spoke out, “Blake your late!” his teacher, Mr. Burt, looked at him angrily, in one hand he held a holo pad in which he had notes scribbled messily along it in the other he held a whiteboard marker. Mr. Burt wore a scrappy under kept suit with lots of creases and coffee stains on the legs. “Sit down Blake!” said Mr. Burt, Blake hurriedly rushed to his desk and sat down abruptly. “Now class,” said Burt, “Take out your math books and do page 211.” Blake took out his workbook and started writing down the questions in his book. A hover car sped past the window it was a Speed Racer 5000 with high powered electric motor. It was a shiny red with two gleaming white stripes down the middle. “Blake, Blake!” Mr. Burt called, “come to the front of the class and tell us how to do this problem.” Blake turned his head and got up slowly. He walked

down the middle of the class to the e-board. He took the pen and started writing when a crash rang out, heads turned towards the door. Suddenly a man crashed the door down. He was carrying a black pulse rife and a black helmet with and orange visor pulled down. He had black steel shoulder pads with grey padded armour everywhere else. Blake’s eyes fell on the golden eagle on his left shoulder, the sign of the government or the Agency. “Everyone on the ground!” he yelled, everyone dropped to the ground, some kids screamed in his ear. Everyone was shouting and yelling. He felt a rough hand on his arm tugging him up. He was pulled out the door. He looked up at the person pulling him up. It was a female with blond hair wearing the same armour as the other soldier. He was shoved into a van, the door slammed shut behind him and the world went dark except for the hum of the motor. The Van lurched forwards out of the school area. Blake felt around in the back for a source of light. He felt a lumpy sharp cylinder. A lamp! Blake thought. He picked it up and felt around for the button. Suddenly a bright, white, light. Lit up the back of the van. Blake could see metal benches on the side of the van there was handles on the window slit. The window slit was a thin line that Blake could see out of. Blake walked over and wrenched the slit open. When Blake looked out all he could see was endless mounds of desert. Heat blasted through the slit. It was nice on his face and the fresh air was wonderful.

A few hours later the van halted to a stop. Blake stepped back from the slit, fear in his heart. His breath was slow and heavy. The door swung open with a bang and Blake jumped from his skin. A soldier in the same uniform as before grabbed him by his collar and pulled him out of the back. Blake kicked and screamed, “Get off me! I want to go home!” The soldier looked at him solemnly in the eye, then he turned to the other soldier

and said, “A jolt in his back will shut him up,” Blake squealed and punched. Something hit his back and there was a big spark as the world faded into darkness.

Blake woke up, not sure of the time. He looked round to see a bright white room with lots of beds. On top of the beds were children. All of the children in the room were bald. His eyes landed on a couple of children that he had seen around school sitting on some beds at the far side of the room. The bed closest to him was empty so he figured that was for him. He slowly stood up, “What’s happening?” he asked. “Where am I?” The children around him just stared. BANG! The door flew open to reveal an armed soldier. He walked bristly towards Blake. He grabbed his arm and dragged him upwards from the floor. “You’re coming with me!” He said. And he pulled Blake roughly out the door. Blake was rushed swiftly down a dark damp corridor. He yelled out at the soldier, “Let me go your hurting me!” The soldier looked at him with dark hollow eyes. He shoved Blake forward with unhuman like power. He fell to his knees and the soldier hit him hard round the back of the head. He shrieked and bolted forward. The soldier chased after him rapidly gaining. Blake whizzed round a corner and darted into a room. He saw the guard rush past the doorway shouting in the other direction. Blake crept out the room and walked down the dark corridor. He passed a couple of rooms. The hallway ended in a large metal door. There was a cross section to the left and right. Suddenly footsteps echoed round from the corridor. Blake jumped with fright and rushed to a door, fumbling with the door handle it swung open to reveal a desk with a simple office chair. Blake dived under the desk as the footsteps stopped right outside the doorway. Blake saw him lean round the door and mutter to himself. He turned from the doorway and rushed round the corridor. He followed it right to the end hiding when needed until he made it to a super big door. He spied a glowing orange control panel to the left of the door. As he walked up to it, he

saw a guard go round a corner behind him and walk up to a door. He saw the guard pull out a card from his pocket and swipe it across a similar control panel. Guard looked over his shoulder to see Blake standing in the doorway. “Hey!” He shouted and ran at Blake. Blake swooped round him and ran at the doorway which the guard had unlocked. He reached it and sprinted down the corridor. Blake then took a left, a right, a left, another left and right until he eventually reached a large white double sliding doors with a green sign above that read out fire exit. Blake hit his hand on the door, trying to figure out how to open it. He could hear footsteps behind him. He pounded against the door and suddenly it opened and Blake stumbled forwards into another guard who grabbed him roughly round the waste. Behind him the other guards came to a stop. They quietly discussed and eventually put Blake down and dragged him out the door into the outside. The sun shone brightly and Blake winced at the brightness. The blue sky was refreshing after being inside a white room for so long. Blake was pulled into another building where he was tied into a chair. The guards stepped through another door and Blake heard a Beep and a click. Suddenly a pshhh sound rung out and Blake saw vents with green gas coming out of them on the roof. Blakes world started spinning and he fell to the floor screaming with pain and agony and then he collapsed and everything went Black.

Epilogue:

Blakes Mum was walking briskly down the street to the police station. The cars sped past her and she flinched every time one came too close. She came to the front door and it slid open. She went inside and flashed an id at the guard. She walked on through to the Mayor’s office. “Is the job done?” she said. “Yes, it is all taken care of,” said the Mayor.

Dreamers and Rebels

by Leonard Lapitskiy

A freezing wind started blowing over the ice planet of Korvus, a civilization forgotten by most factions. A heavily coated figure walked across the ice, with heavy plates of armour around his chest and a sticker saying Remy on the middle of the armour plate. He was dragging a sleigh filled with glowing neon-orange crystals illuminating the spiky area, the crunch of the snow underneath his boots. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blows over the landscape making the man stumble a little, as the ice creaked below his feet, he knew that he had to reach the village before the rollers started to emerge. As the man passed through the snowy desert, the winds began to escalate, until Remy saw, a fireball shoot across the sky it was coming closer and closer until it landed in front of him - a squished pile of metal with a hue of purple, with wires in all directions. Remy instantly recognized that this was a Korvus's prime machine as it had a very distinct colour pallet of purple, yellow and black. Remy knew it was better to ignore this clunk of metal as nothing good had ever come out of using it. As

Remy continued heading to the village, the second moon rose. Finally, he entered the village perimeter where it was safe. Remy handed in the luminescent crystals to the energy facility, to provide energy for the town.

As he stumbled back to his hut, the villagers nodded to meet him in respect of his effort in retrieving the power crystals. While Remy was laying in his bed looking at the night, he wondered about the machine he encountered earlier but brushed it off as no good will come out of it and started to prepare for the next journey at dawn. The crimson horizon was covered with thick ominous fog on the frosted landscapes. As Remy went further on this delivery - the usual solidity of the ice changed to an almost spongy texture, that made shivers run down Remy’s spine. He ventured further across the ice hoping to turn back, when a jagged snow-dusted cave in the distance caught his eye. Driven by his curiosity, Remy scurried towards the hidden cave. At its entrance, there was a pulsing red, ominous glow.

With a pounding heart, Remy inched deeper into the cave as he slipped on the gravel he saw a Korvius

Prime Mining machine. Legends spoke of its power to suck out all the planet's power and split planets in two. Its destructive potential was so immense that it had been outlawed by the intergalactic council. For a moment, Remy thought about the audacity of the situation, this went against his moral belief because Remy’s dream was to make somehow Korvius a better place to live and to free Korvius from the grip of its cruel prime counterpart. Nevertheless, Remy began to formulate a plan - if he could remove the crystals powering the machine, he might be able to disable it. As Remy opened the machine, he found ten luminescent crystals held in the centre of it. Once he removed the crystals, he heard a loud shuttering sound of the rocks tumbling down and the gravel bouncing up and down. All of a sudden it stopped, and then he heard two pairs of footsteps- one heavy and slow while making squishing sounds on the melting snow and the other one Remy assumed to be someone’s lighter as his footsteps were barely even audible and moved at a faster pace. Remy’s heart raced as he quickly hid behind the machine. The footsteps were approaching closer and closer, and he could hear the rasping muffled voices of the people discussing the sudden stop of the machine. Carefully

peeking out of the machine he could see 2 Prime Enforcers, the skinny one was holding a small grey remote, most likely used to turn the machine off and on. Remy saw an opportunity to take the remote. He started to sprint towards the slim officer, snatching the remote off him. When Remy pressed the ‘break down’ button, the remote display showed “rror. Must be on the ship to be able to destroy machine “

Remy faced the most difficult decision in his life. This gave him mixed emotions- on one hand, he could destroy this machine that enslaves his people, but on the other hand, he would risk his life. Remy made his choice, he scouted the surroundings, the purple and gold ship in front of him, and the two soldiers engulfed by snow. Remy instantly knew what he had to do. He ran towards the soldiers to take whatever valuables they had to power and survive on the ship alone. Once on board, Remy connected the remote and destroyed the machine. Then he sent a flair to signal for the frozen soldiers to be found.

His dream was fulfilled to protect Korvius no matter what, but he couldn’t imagine other planets suffering the same fate as Korvius was about to. He had a new mission in his life now! The crimson sun started to set

as Remy steered the ship into the thick atmosphere, setting off on a new adventure.

SPD – The Way I See

By Elian Gaudieri

I see the world in a different light, Sounds too loud, colours too bright,

My senses on overload, it's a slippery slope,

With all the noise and commotion, it's hard to cope.

Sensory Processing Disorder, it’s how I live, It's real and it's a struggle, but I’ve got lots to give, I'm not alone, there are others just like me, We'll persevere, we'll be strong and free.

Touch can be overwhelming it can cause a fright, I need to regulate just right, Textures, temperatures, even certain smells

Can lead to meltdowns, it feels like living in a shell.

Sensory Processing Disorder, it’s how I live,

It's real and it's a struggle, but I’ve got lots to give,

I'm not alone, there are others just like me, We'll persevere, we'll be strong and free.

It's not a choice, it's just how I perceive, But sometimes I feel like I'm not believed, It's hard to explain what goes on inside, But I'm still me, I'm still alive!

Sensory Processing Disorder, it's a challenge to face, But with support and understanding, we'll find our place, With a little bit of patience, and a whole lot of love We'll break down these barriers, we'll rise above.