Ink Stains 2015 / 2016 by Pechersk School International

INK STAINS SECONDARY SCHOOL

SUMMER 2016

AN IB WORLD SCHOOL SINCE 2000

A PLACE WHERE WE BELONG

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

CONTENT 4

FOREWORDS

ALEXANDER LITERARY AWARD WINNERS 2016 LOW E R M Y P

UPPER MYP

P O E T RY

PROSE

NON FICTION

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ALEXANDER LITERARY AWARD CONTEST SUBMISSIONS 2016 LOW E R M Y P

UPPER MYP

P O E T RY

PROSE

100 P R O S E

NON FICTION

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FOREWO Dear Reader, In this 20th anniversary year of PSI we have seen a record number of entries in both primary and secondary school for the Alexander Literary Award and the PSI Young Author’s Award, demonstrating our students’ passion for literature. As a result this issue of Ink Stains is the largest ever, allowing us to accommodate all submissions. Students have successfully juggled the demands of academics, sports, and the arts and found time to create original, well planned and presented entries for the magazine. We congratulate all participants, particularly the winners of each category which were judged by a panel of teachers and students. Our students’ creative talent is reflected in the quality of the literature and art presented in this edition. We would also like to thank the Primary school teachers, PYP Coordinator, English and EAL teachers who judged the competition as well as the Arts and DT departments for providing the photographs and the artwork. This magazine is a result of a joint effort and successful collaboration. With the holidays approaching, you will find the rich contents of this magazine exciting, interesting, entertaining and inspiring reading for lazy summer days. We hope that this year’s variety of genres have sown the seeds to inspire budding new authors to enter next year.

POLINA SPENCER AND PAM YORK PSI Librarians

ORDS Welcome to Ink Stains! Some time ago, a wise old owl swooped past me one day as I was struggling with a school English assignment, a creative writing task that demanded 1000 words for the next day on the theme of ‘your pet’. As I struggled somewhat with the subject matter (being the proud owner of precisely one goldfish) and pondered how an owl had got into the house, I suddenly was given the following advice: “The trick,” she whispered into my ear, “is to paint pictures with words.” That’s all the owl said before launching off into the night and leaving me to my work: Paint Pictures with Words. As a first time judge of the Alexander Literary Award, I was astonished when I read the variety of deeply creative talent of the submissions. Our students at PSI, for many of whom English is not a first language, managed to grasp what I had once learned, and have offered a selection of literary canvasses, painted with the most incredible strokes of description and feeling. Whether through the medium of poetry, narrative fiction or non-fiction, our students have demonstrated yet again, in this 20th anniversary year of PSI, that the passion to commit pen to paper and communicate to others in a highly creative way, is so very strong at our school. I want to heartily congratulate all of those students who contributed their submissions to the award - and a great big WELL DONE to the winners!

We mark the 20th anniversary of Pechersk School International by introducing a new aspect to the Alexander Literary Awards. As in the past, we continue to celebrate student creative efforts in poetry and prose fiction. But this year we add a new category: non fiction prose. One might reasonably ask how we can include non fiction writing in a literary award competition. The simple answer lies in the nature of text creation. Regardless of the content, creating a written or spoken text requires planning and that planning necessarily includes creative choices by the writer. These choices go beyond a word-selection decision. The process of developing a non-fiction text also demands the student decide on the best organizational pattern for the task at hand. We have another justification for including analytical, persuasive, and expository writing. That justification finds itself floating on the sea of non fiction writing we demand of our students. On a daily basis we require students to analyse literature or explain historical events, produce science lab reports or describe a mathematical solution, explain an artistic technique or explain a physiological change. By celebrating these efforts we acknowledge the time and effort these young scholars commit to their academic writing. Enjoy!

JAMES SPENCER

DR. DAVID FREEMAN

EAL Teacher

Head of English

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LARA ARENCIBIA-PENDER ANASTASIA KIMM

RACHEL MACDONALD

OLIVER JAHN KELLI KARG

PAUL CHRISTOPHER

SENA CINAR

RYAN FARRELL

MIKKI BISTRANSKY DR. DAVID FREEMAN CATHERINE LAWRENCE

NIKITA KYRYLLOV

ANNA ZVONKOVA

MISHEL-ANASTASIA KYRYLLOVA

YURIY GORYAYNOV

JAMES SPENCER

NOT IN THE PICTURE: MARIA TURNER, MAX KONSTANTINOVSKY 7

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ALEXAND LITERARY WINNERS LOW E R M Y P :

Poetry Winner 10 SUPERHERO Sena Cinar (Grade 8) Poetry Honorable Mention 11 IGGY’S ADVENTURE Catherine Lawrence (Grade 6) Prose Winner 12 THE BIG DAY Mikki Bistransky (Grade 8)

Prose Honorable Mention 14 WAKING UP Ryan Farrell (Grade 6) Non Fiction Winner 15 REHABILITATION MATTERS Mishel-Anastasia Kyryllova (Grade 6) Non Fiction Honorable Mention 16 FROM 1920S IRELAND TO THE MODERN ERA Lara Arencibia-Pender (Grade 8)

DER Y AWARD S 2016 UPPER MYP:

DP:

Poetry Winner 18 IT’S COMPLICATED Anna Zvonkova (Grade 10)

Non Fiction Winner 24 A LIFE OF LITERATURE Maximilian Konstantinovsky (Grade 9)

Poetry Winner 28 THE WITHERED TUNE Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

Poetry Honorable Mention 19 THE DAY OF RECKONING Nikita Kyryllov (Grade 9)

Non Fiction Honorable Mention 26 DNA: PROSPECTS OF IDENTIFYING HUNTINGTON’S DISEASE USING GENETIC TESTING Nikita Kyryllov (Grade 9)

Poetry Honorable Mention 29 THE CRUSH Rachel MacDonald (12)

Prose Winner 20 THAT NIGHT Yuriy Goryaynov (Grade 10) Prose Honorable Mention 22 THE DARKNESS WITHIN Anastasia Kimm (Grade 9)

Prose Winner 30 THE READING BASKET Maria Turner (Grade 12) Prose Honorable Mention 32 UNIFORM Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

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P O E T RY W I N N E R

SUPERHERO SENA CINAR GRADE 8

Who would think that with curves, dark skin and weird habits, I wouldn’t be able to love myself? My curves give me comfort; my dark skin gives me pride; my feminism gives me power. I couldn’t stand the person inside me, I turned all the mirrors around. Now, I have control. “Maybe it’s a cruel joke on you,” people say. I just hang my head high, and give them self-esteem. “Take off your make up and put down the camera,” I say, to insecure girls, that despise the reflection staring back at them in the mirror. I sometimes think, my friends pretend to like me because of my power. My anxiety gets the best of me. I then remember that they’re just like me; They never use people and love everyone. Mirrors became my best friend, and make up became my number one enemy. And after every second that passes, I love myself even more. I think of what I would look like, if I wasn’t me. Every part of me makes me who I am. Every part of me tells a story. So I continue to embark this journey with a smile on my face and a big heart, I never let society get the best of me, I am who I am no matter what.

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P O E T RY H O N O R A B L E M E N T I O N

IGGY’S ADVENTURE CATHERINE LAWRENCE GRADE 6

My name is Iggy, I’m a igneous rock, I think that I’m pretty, And I like to talk.

You see, The weather and me, We couldn’t agree, So I had to flee.

Sedimentary rock, Are parts of rocks, Put together, After we weather.

My journey began, Inside a volcano, Then it blew up, Kablamo!

With the water and wind, Always weathering me, I got smaller and smaller, To the size of a pea.

We move around, Ow! it is hot! Am I melting? I start yelping.

I turned into lava, And rolled down the slope, I finally stopped, And then I had hope.

And then I cracked, There was two of me, I named the other half Jack, I don’t think he’ll be back.

I melt with heat and pressure, And change to metamorphic rock, Metamorphic rocks are, Mixed melted rock.

I started to cool, But I felt like a fool, What should I do? Now that the sky was not blue.

Now I’m a sediment, Moved by water and wind, I reach oceans, rivers, and lakes, And then the volcano shakes.

I turn to magma, I’m in a volcano! I’ll miss you, rainbow, And you too piano,

I continued my journey, With dust in the air, It just didn’t seem fair, Oh look at my hair!

Now I’m In the sea As I slowly sink, I started to blink, Look, that fish is pink!

That’s my story, Hope you enjoyed, The story that next time, I will avoid.

I turned to a rock, It didn’t take long, With all of my fears, And a lot of tears.

I slowly reached the bottom, And now it is Autumn, Oh what a shame, But who’s to blame.

But it didn’t end there, Now I’m a igneous extrusive, The best there could be! Now listen to me.

More and more of me are layered, They compact all of us together, We are a sedimentary rock, And now it is 5 o’clock.

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PROSE WINNER

THE BIG DAY MIKKI BISTRANSKY GRADE 8

I groaned as my phone alarm started beeping at me to get up. I rolled over and looked up at my cream colored ceiling studying the cracks and dents from years of neglect. The day was finally here. The day that my dad had been training me for. The day where “everything would change” as my stepmom put it. The “day that would prove my worth”. I know that I sound like I’m building up to some huge fight where I beat up a huge monster with 17 eyeballs and 87 legs and I would get the girl and we would live happily ever after with our 50 million adorable children. That’s how my family sees it. I was meant to be a runner. Both my mom and dad were runners so their boy was the perfect mix of both. I’ve been training ever since I was a kid and I honestly hated it. How I always feel exhausted, my heart always pumping, mud caked on every pair of socks I own. This “big day” was just a cross country race. Whenever I would talk to my dad about quitting, he’d start quoting Steve Prefontaine and say things like “To give anything less than your best, is to sacrifice the gift.” or “A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways as they’re capable of understanding.” and then I would never get an actual answer. Nothing would change, my worth would not be proved and I would not battle any monsters with any abnormal amount of eyes. “Sam?” My father poked his head through the door, wide eyed and cheery. “Come on boy, it’s the big day!” He stepped forward wearing shorts far too short for any man in his late forties. Or any man for that matter. I mumbled and turned my back to him, praying that I could just vomit right now to avoid going. But he didn’t move. “I’m up…” I groaned. “Great Mindy, made your favorite… pancakes!” he said squealing. Pancakes…great. Mindy, the weird health nut with her weird diets and environmental ranting had made pancakes. Don’t get me wrong, I love pancakes, the real nice fluffy and sugary kind covered in Aunt Jemima’s maple syrup and powdered sugar. The pancakes I get are vegan, gluten free, 12

low sugar and sad. With extra fiber! I poked my fork at the gelatinous mass that was my breakfast for the day. I honestly had half expected the pancake to start talking and tell me to buzz off. “Hey, sweet pea!” Mindy came into the room in a workout uniform straight from the 80s. Neon leotard and everything. “How’s it going, ready for the big meet?” she said making some weird gesture with the hands and being over-optimistic. Once again I groaned, wanting to throw my face into my breakfast. “Now, for this morning’s run I think we should switch it up a little bit for today,” my dad said putting his arm around Mindy’s waist. “I totally agree! How about we swing by this tea shop down near the forest, I’ve been just dying to go?” Mindy said with a huge smile on her face. “Oh my, well that just sounds amazing sweetie!” This went on for awhile with the two of them talking about health, running and the occasional sex reference. Trust me, this is all completely normal in our household. So our pre-run started. I of course was in front with both dad and Mindy in the back yelling praise but mostly criticism. “You’re legs are too stretched out.” “You’re breathing too heavily sweetie.” “You’re going too slow.” “You’re gonna catch a cold, put your jacket back on!” “Watch your ankles, you could roll them.” But after an hour, I had come out of hell. But sadly my soul still belonged to the devil. My dad had tired himself out so he had decided to take a nap on the couch and had started to sleep so deeply so heavily that god couldn’t even wake him up. Mindy had gone off to yoga so technically I was home alone. Noon. 3 more hours until the big meet. 3 more hours. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes, hoping I could wake up from this nightmare. No more short shorts, no one pushing or shoving to get in front and no more terrible vegan pancakes for Saturday breakfast. I felt myself slowly falling asleep

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thinking about what my life would be like if I didn’t have to do cross country every weekend. “SAM!” my dad screamed, slamming my door open. I sat up so fast I almost fell out of my bed. “What, who, what?” I stammered disoriented and dizzy. “We are leaving now and…” He stopped after he looked at me wearing my wrinkled gold and white track uniform. “You just woke up. Great.” He looked away, his face slowly turning red. “Did you at least warm up at all?” I looked away, trying to find an answer. “Nevermind, that was a stupid question. I can’t believe how irresponsible you are, this is the most important day of my… I mean your life! Scholarships, contracts, god knows what else!” The rant does continue but like myself, I’m pretty sure you don’t care. No one goes to cross and field races other than parents and weird strangers who like seeing boys in shorts. We all lined up in a great big mush as people started cheering for us. I adjusted the label secured on my stomach doing my best to look miserable and uninterested in this whole ordeal. Some other guys were red from their excitement over the run. I looked at the race track. The forest was so thick I couldn’t see too far into it. Mud was everywhere with holes lining the track so deep that if someone took one wrong step they could break something. “Alright, everyone…” Mr. Singer said, starting the welcomes and the thank-yous that were common at every one of these races. The chubby man went on and on about how lucky we were about the weather and made a few comments about last night’s football game. “Good luck to you, boys. Don’t get lost!” he said jokingly and then rang the buzzer. “Go Sammey” my dad yelled, putting extra stress on the ‘e’, I ran forward ignoring him and putting myself in between two of my fellow runners, jogging at a fast constant pace. My only goal here is to get this thing done quick and not pop a lung, I thought as I watched some kid sprint in front of me, I knew that later he would collapse from going too fast. I watched the other kids studying how they ran, how they breathed and wondered how in hell they were enjoying this. One of the kids from my group, Joshua, had started boasting about his “mad endurance skills” to one of the other guys who obviously couldn’t care less. “This is why I hate cross country.” I turned to see a kid I had never meet before next to me. “People like that guy boasting about how great they are. I’m just waiting for this to be over.” I smiled, happy to meet someone like me who had really hated this sport. “I know, right? It’s ridiculous. I just want to

quit while I can.” “Scholarships?” I nodded. “Me too,” he said breathing heavily. “My mom is like the queen of soccer moms, well, cross country moms.” We laughed. I’ll admit the meeting people part of cross country isn’t too bad. “Crap!” he said, nearly falling over. I grabbed him before he face planted into the cold, wet ground. “It’s ok, I got you.” I helped him up. “Let’s run ahead of the crowd.” “Good idea. Race you?” I looked at him, smiling widely. “You know it.” We sprinted forward, pushing through the panting contestants and jumping around loose logs. But then, I fell. It was the mud, it must have been. I’m not the kind of idiot to just fall randomly over absolutely anything. I didn’t trip over or anything. I just fell. I watched as the other runner barely took any notice of me. But after I had started crying they did. There I was sitting on the muddy ground, covered in mud, gripping my ankle and crying buckets of tears. I don’t know if it was because of the pain from the injury or the feeling of abandonment from my mystery friend who had left me behind. People surrounded me, asking over and over again what was wrong and if I was ok. I had never broken a bone before, not even gotten a sprain. But I knew I could feel the bone was my ankle out of place. I had never experienced pain like it before. The pain did numb the anger about the actual race, which I guess was nice. I looked at my ankle and nearly passed out. It was purple and swelling like crazy. Nothing had drawn blood but my hands had been scratched up during landing. A bunch of people had crowded around me, blocking the race path. “Are you ok?” “Oh my god, his ankle. I think I’m gonna puke.” “What a wimp, I’ve broken my leg and I didn’t cry,” boasted Joshua “Shut up Joshua, no one cares.” Joshua didn’t take that comment kindly and started yelling at the guy who had insulted him. “Where are your parents?” some kid’s parent asked. “At the finish line,” I sobbed. Wearing a makeshift splint out of some guy’s sweaty shirt and a muddy stick, I was carried to the finish line. Mindy burst into tears when she saw me. “Oh Ron, our poor baby boy,” she whimpered. I was too tired to bring to her attention that she was only my stepmom. 13

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PROSE HONORABLE MENTION

WAKING UP RYAN FARRELL GRADE 6

I wake up with a sudden jolt. I groan. I had wished that today I wouldn’t have to wake up. I feel a vibration in my nose. I keep my eyes closed, savouring the last few moments of stillness. I am cold. I must have fallen asleep outside and not at home. I wish I could be just left at home and sleep all I want. But if I sleep for too long I might not wake up again. Then I remember the children. Their smiling faces as I start running, their laughing when I make a silly noise. But today might be a bad day. Maybe the children will be angry and will not laugh but will only argue and whine. I hear everything and I might know more about them than they know about me. But then again the father has seen all there is to me and how I work. I feel myself warming up. I know I must savour the last few seconds and then I hear the laughing. I smile. Today wasn’t a bad day. Today was a good day. I hear the children say something about a birthday party. I start walking. Very slowly at first. We all head to the party. I notice as we go along that the ground is slowly elevating. Eventually we get to a strange place where I’ve never been before. There is nothing but air to our left and nothing but rock to our right. I hear the little girl ask my question: “Where are we?” she asks. “We’re in the mountains. We’re heading to grandpa’s cottage,” the father answers. Who is Grandpa? Why have I never heard of him? Never mind, I think I will find out soon enough. I am feeling very tired and weak. I want to eat something so I can regain my energy. Eventually we stop at a restaurant. I have my favourite meal and the children get some chocolate. I feel full of energy and completely awake. I feel energy flowing through my veins. I feel like I can do anything and go anywhere. We continue our journey up and along the slopes. Eventually we got to the small cottage. I smelt something sweet coming from the house I felt very tired all of a sudden. I did not know why but I just wanted to sleep. And sleep I did. I woke up and snow was falling I went down the slope and to the restaurant. The father got out and a couple of minutes later he came out from the restaurant with a bag full of cans. We went back to the cottage and I fell 14

back to sleep. From deep within my dreams I heard the cheers and laughing of a party. I dreamt that I was in there and that I was drinking and making friends. Friends…it’s a funny word, really. Must you meet someone to be their friend or do you just have to be able to see them. I have no friends because I don’t really get to talk to or meet my own kind, because whenever I go to sleep I can’t talk and whenever I’m awake I am working. To be completely truthful I don’t even know what I am, let alone how to converse with my own kind. I sometimes wonder on some longer journeys if it is only me who cannot talk to others. I woke up and I saw who Grandpa was. The father was cleaning me. I heard the Grandpa talk to the father. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. The Grandpa left my view. I thought I could hear a rumble from just out of my point of view. Then one of my own people comes. We are awkward at first but then we start conversing. We talk until we must sleep. The next morning we leave. I hear the children crying their goodbyes. I see the old car from last night. I wonder if I will ever see him again. We got home and the children had gone to sleep in the back. The father put me in my home and put me to sleep. As he gets out he says, “You’re a great little car.” At that moment I finally realized what I was. I was crying tears of joy. Three years and I finally find out what I am. I want to share my new found knowledge. I just want to burst with excitement. Then I started to feel drowsy. My eyelids were heavy. I fell asleep. Life went on as normal for about five months. Then one day I woke up and realized that only the father was there. He patted me and said, “We’re going on a little road trip.” We drove for several hours until we got to a hotel. The father parked me and I had a nap. The next morning I woke up I realized that the old car was next to me. Just then I saw the Grandpa get in. I asked the old car if this would be annual. He nodded. From that day forth every summer, the Grandpa, the father, the old car and I meet up and have the time of our lives.

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NON FICTION WINNER

REHABILITATION MATTERS MISHEL ANASTASIA KYRYLLOVA GRADE 6

When a kid makes a mistake, should he regret his/her mistake all his/her life or, the community could help him become a better person? Children keep on going back to jail because jail doesn’t show them that they did a bad thing. What if something more humane kept them from crimes and helped to reteach the juvenile criminals? Rehabilitation is really important for juvenile criminals and it works better than punishment. Kids should certainly get rehabilitation instead of jail because if they go to jail, kids would not understand their mistakes and go back there. On this theme one juvenile offender says “I started drinking, doing drugs so I kept on getting in trouble with the law so I kept on going back and forth in and out of jail, in and out of jail…” (Justice.gc.ca, 2015). It means that jail did not change the boy forever therefore he kept on coming back and committing crimes again and again with no specific reason, not understanding what went wrong and what were his mistakes. Also, putting juvenile offenders in prison is simply incorrect and unethical. If the judge would ask a juvenile criminal “is it right to put you in jail?”, then of course he/she would say that putting him in prison is bad, but if the community could think with only the rule of ethics then what would be more humane and right? An SR probation officer Anne Lyne - Hughey said “You know, it takes a village to raise a child...” (Justice.gc.ca, 2015). This

quote means that the community’s responsibility is to help the child grow and if the child steps on a bad path then try to help him rehabilitate and become a better person, live a normal life like other kids. The ethics rule is supported by the ability of kids to change when rehabilitated. Another reason for rehabilitating children is, that in many countries people think that adult criminals and kids should be treated differently. They think that kids are more flexible to changes and you can still rehabilitate them for better. As professor Nicholas Bala says “Almost every country in the world has some special legislation or provisions that recognize that children, adolescents, are not to be treated in the same way as adults.”(Justice.gc.ca, 2015). That means, that in almost all the countries there are special rules for children criminals, that children don’t have to be treated the same way as adults, and in a certain age, in different countries children are counted to be adults. Kids can be rehabilitated no matter what they did and how it affected our lives. Kids don’t deserve going to jail. It makes them come back to jail many times not understanding their mistakes and rehabilitation changes them forever. Putting children in jail is really unethical. People think that kids can be rehabilitated easier than adults. So that is why children have to be rehabilitated.

Reference List Donnelly, M. and Robb, J. (2001). Juvenile Justice Systems. [online] The Canadian Encyclopedia. Available at: http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/ article/ juvenile-justic-systems/ [Accessed 13 Nov. 2015].

Justice.gc.ca, (2015). Youth Justice: Building Safe Streets and Communities Youth Justice. [online] Available at: http://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/cj-jp/yj-jj/video/ ycja-lsjpa.html [Accessed 13 Nov. 2015].

Star, T. (2015). Youth and Crime in Canada Timeline | Toronto Star. [online] thestar.com. Available at: http://www.thestar.com/news/investigations/ unequaljustice/youthcrimetimeline.html [Accessed 13 Nov. 2015].

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NON FICTION HONORABLE MENTION

FROM 1920S IRELAND TO THE MODERN ERA LARA ARENCIBIA PENDER GRADE 8

This essay was written after reading the short story “The Sniper” by Liam O’Flaherty, as a response to the question “How did the violence in the story affect modern Ireland?”

Ireland has suffered greatly during the last two-hundred years. A famine, plagues, and war have ravaged the tiny country, home to only five million people. However their war, or rather wars, against England and against themselves, are probably what has most greatly impacted Ireland and created much of the country we know today. The war for independence, the Irish Republican Army (IRA) and the issues in Northern Ireland, as well as the formation of Ireland’s main political parties and of the country in general all began one hundred years ago this year, and have had a monumental effect on Ireland. In the early 1900s, Ireland belonged to Britain. They were quite free and had many liberties compared to other places, but still many Irish people were unhappy. They had seen South Africa receive independence from the British Empire in 1910, and many people wanted the same. However, the media was often tightly controlled and censored by the British, which was no good. All was calm until the famed 1916 Easter Rising, in which “members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (a precursor to the IRA), seized some buildings in Dublin, which they held on to for about a week.” (Septs of Ireland, 2015) The “general incompetence” of the British government, along with the arrests of many innocent people, “sparked and fueled a hatred for the English” (Diarmaid, 2015), which still exists in pockets to this day. Although this was a very important time in Irish history, the more important times were still ahead. In 1919 the IRA declared war on Britain. This war of Independence tore the country apart, with two different political parties with two 16

different ideas struggling for power. The first was Sinn Féin led by Michael Collins, and the other was the Fianna Fáil led by Eamon de Valera. “Michael Collins’ party believed that peace and a treaty with Great Britain, whereas de Valera’s party preferred more violent means, and threw support in with the IRA.” (Diarmaid, 2015) The Government of Ireland Act of 1920 was established and gave the six northernmost counties of Ireland a separate parliament, basically splitting the country. “In 1922 the Anglo-Irish treaty originally proposed by Michael Collins was ratified.” (Diarmaid, 2015) It basically meant independence for Ireland, so long as they got to keep the six counties that had been granted a separate parliament. This led to a civil war that ended in 1923 with the defeat of antiTreaty fighters. During this fighting Michael Collins was killed, and Eamon de Valera was supposedly involved. In the mid-60s, branches of the IRA in Northern Ireland began fighting and committing acts of terrorism such as setting off bombs. They did this because they wanted Ulster to go back to Ireland, which would have been a violation of the Anglo-Irish Treaty, and could therefore not be permitted. In general, the Republic of Ireland preferred to stay away from such matters, and generally did not get involved. However by the end of the 1960s, the level of violence was great and bordered on a war. Belfast in particular was plagued with shootings and bombings, and no one was safe. In 1969 the British Army was deployed. “1972 was the bloodiest year of the conflict” (History, 2015) with the British Army shooting thirteen civil rights protesters in late January and the IRA

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bombing Belfast, killing nine and injuring over a hundred people. For the next twenty years fighting continued with a series of tit-for-tat murders being committed in vengeance and generally for no good reason. In 1985 an agreement was signed giving the Republic of Ireland some say in the matters concerning Ulster. “After that the fighting lessened” (History, 2015), but it continued on until 1998, when the Good Friday agreement was signed. By this point, Northern Ireland had been given the right to make its own decisions, and the IRA was pacified. No serious violence was reported after that, and all was well once more. The final change in Ireland was with the Irish political parties. They were formed early in the history of Independent Ireland, around the year 1920. One was called Fianna Fáil, and the other Sinn Féin. Originally, Fianna Fáil was the more pro-independence party, and Sinn Féin was more pro-Britain. However they both wanted independence, just in different ways. Sinn Féin was more willing to cooperate with the British and try and achieve independence without violence, albeit more slowly. Fianna Fáil “was willing to fight for independence, and wanted an unconditional release from Britain” (Green,

2015). As a result, when Sinn Féin (who was in power in the government at the time) signed the Anglo-Irish Treaty, basically giving most of Ulster (Northern Ireland) to Britain, a civil war broke out. “The leader of the Sinn Féin party, Michael Collins, was killed during the fighting” (Green, 2015). In 1923 peace was achieved, and the Fianna Fáil party took control. Their leader, Eamon de Valera later served as President from 1959 to 1973. Nowadays they agree more on things and generally share the power quite well, as they basically share the same beliefs and values. All in all, what happened in Ireland in the early 1920s would go on to have a great effect on the country as a whole. The partitioning of the north and south, independence from Britain, the IRA and the violence in Belfast all contributed to these changes in the country. The current political parties of Ireland were also formed then, and they continue to make all of Ireland’s most important decisions. Although Ireland has had many important times in its history, what occurred one hundred years ago has probably been the most important to the Irish people.

Bibliography: “Northern Ireland Conflict Timeline.” History. AETN UK Co., 2015. Web. 19 Feb. 2016.

Ferriter, Diarmaid. “Ireland in the Twentieth Century.” Gov.ie Essays. Ireland. gov, 2015. Web. 19 Feb. 2016.

“Easter Rising 1916.” Easter Rising 1916. Septs of Ireland, 2015. Web. 19 Feb. 2016.

Green, Michael. “The Irish State - Political Parties and Elections.” Ireland Information. The Information about Ireland, 2015. Web. 19 Feb. 2016. 17

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P O E T RY W I N N E R

IT’S COMPLICATED... ANNA ZVONKOVA GRADE 10

It’s hard to find a decent soul In a world where money leads us all. In a world where lust Replaces trust. Where death is just another act When life becomes way too abstract. You think you have it all planed out. You move through life without a doubt. But then distraction creates attraction and you fall. Beneath them all. Their laughter echoes in your head, You think I’m better when I’m dead. You leap without a second thought, You spread your wings and scream “I’m free.” Until the ground responds with cold despair: “You should have known That I’m still there.”

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P O E T RY H O N O R A B L E M E N T I O N

THE DAY OF RECKONING NIKITA KYRYLLOV GRADE 9

The breeze slowly swayed the blackened trees Ripped off their charred, old, lifeless leaves And as those leaves our souls all trembled, As our platoons nonchalantly assembled.

As the bellowing horde fell upon us And we began to slash and hack I knew that my men would follow me To the depths of hell and back.

Our lives were done, yet we did not fear We knew the day of reckoning was here We would fight bravely, young and old And every one of us as strong and bold.

The wounded were moaning and shouting The smell of fresh blood filled the air From my open wound blood was spouting and dead bodies lay everywhere.

We all stood bravely, we stood our ground And not one weak willed soldier could be found We only wished for the survival of those left behind And even a slightest chance for the rest of mankind.

We fought over corpses of our friends and our foes The ones still alive twitching in their death throes We fell into a frenzy, to wild beasts we were alike And each of our enemies fell stone cold with one strike.

The birds were silent, the trees were still And all of us could feel a thrill It was as if the earth itself was aware How each of us that day would fare.

And yet they kept coming, and no matter our skill It couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t be possible to all of them kill Still, for each of our soldiers who under them drowned At least three hundred beasts were without mercy cut down.

We watched in silence, as the horde Moved forward and as one it roared As the thousands of vile and horrid creations Marched forward in one huge aberration.

And then, just as suddenly as it began The battle was over, the enemy ran And each and every one of us understood at last That the day of reckoning had finally passed.

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

PROSE WINNER

THAT NIGHT YURIY GORYAYNOV GRADE 10

This memoir is about one of the notable events during the genocide in Rwanda. It has happened on April 6th 1944 when a plane carrying Habyarimana (a president of Rwanda) was shot down. I was writing from a child’s point of view so I decided not to include any political or ethnical background history of the conflict. Roshaun only mentions that he is a Tutsi to emphasize that he was an innocent victim of the genocide. The plane, however, was shot down by the Tutsis and this was a historical climax of conflict between Hutus and Tutsis. It is also my climax of the story. To add some importance to the memoir, I made Roshaun’s father one of the rioting figures who contributed to the execution of Habyarimana. At the end his father gets killed, by this I add a tragic ending to the memoir to make it more realistic rather than a happy ending story. My theme is tragic and therefore I tried to create an unpleasant and aggressive atmosphere around Roshaun. The memoir includes grammar mistakes and mistakes in tenses for a reason. In the beginning Roshaun mentions that his mother taught him English and thus it is not his mother tongue. He also writes this memoir on the second day after genocide in his village, so I pretend that he doesn’t have time to fix his mistakes because he was very emotional at that moment. Also I think that short sentences and paragraphs express the voice of my character well. To make the writing more realistic I was not talking directly about Genocide. Instead, many kids like to talk about themselves and therefore Roshaun talked about things like his mother. To add morals to the memoir I made his mother one of the key figures not only in the memoir but to also to Rashaun himself. His mother taught him that freedom is important because she wants him to become an independent person. Eventually this word “freedom” became important to Roshaun and guided him through as he was writing this memoir.

*** April 6th 1994 My name is Roshaun. I am nine years old and I live in small village in Rwanda. My mother is speak english. She teach me after school is done. But not yesterday. Yesterday we don’t study. Yesterday we hide from death. It was Sunday and I was play with my friends outdoors. My mother say that play is freedom. Freedom is most important thing in life. My mother say that every person should be freedom. But she say there are bad people who many times want to take freedom from me and her. My mother say that we all become freedom when we go to sky. I agree with her. My uncle make wooden airplanes for me and my friends. Planes are like birds. They are light and have wings that take them up into sky where they are free. One day I will become a pilot in plane and I will be freedom. I never see real planes until it is yesterday. It was soundy. Shiny. Scary. It flew straight ahead. I stare at it. It move easy in air just like freedom. Me and my friends ran around the field and try to hide, but the plane not stopped. First I also hide but then I look back and I see that the plane is very beautiful and no more scary. But when the plane pass by my mother run out and come for me. She don’t tell anything. Even hello to my friends. She grab my hand and force me to follow. She is kind to me, but not yesterday. Yesterday she is strict. I ask her if I am punished for something. She say this is not about punishment. She say this is for safety. She say we must hide immidiatelble. I ask if this is army plane. She say no. Mother say this is president plane… Our village does not like president Habyarimana. He is mean my uncle say. President does not like Tutsis. Uncle say we live in this village apart from other Hutus because it is easy for our protection. We are friendly community. But Hutus were

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enemies my uncle say. We are all in danger he always say. I think this is why my mother drag me to our hut away from the plane. But when we are close to the hut I notice a big truck I never see before. It is big rockets on top and men are crowd around it. I notice my father next by it. I try to call him but he reply with a sad smile. Next minute mother pull me in the house. She squeeze my hand really tight I don’t know why. And a moment after I hear a big boom! A truck made that boom and it made fog around it. I seen rocket fly into air and go very high. The next thing I see is president plane in the sky suddenly fall down. It was with fire and then it fall on the ground away from village. I is scared. I never imagine how plane crash. Only fly. I was schock. I lean to my mom and cover my face. Then somebody come in a hut. It is my father. He tell me and my mother to hide in our basement. My mother quickly take me there. It is right beneath our hut. She take me down and say that she is to be back. She cover me with blanket and close the roof above. It seem very dark but I can hear the voices speak. My mother say something about the Hutus enemies that will find us and punish very bad. My father say his friends hide the truck with rockets but we should hide for tonight and tomorrow we run away. Then mother say that Hutus will be angry because the president was kill. She tell him our freedom is taked. He say that if president did not been kill we did not had freedom at all. He say this act is for our future and for the future of their only child… me. Yesterday I don’t know what to do. I sit in the basement and my parent come down for me I think. But they are above. I sit for long time. Very long time. I hide under blanket but I feel very cold anyway. I think it is evening when I hear loud

gunshots and people screaming. Then I hear my father. He tell my mother to go down and hide with me and he say that he will protect us. I hear my mother tell him not to go not to fight but stay with her and me. But he did not want that. He want to fight the angry Hutus he say. The door above me open and my mother come down. She was cry. Mother come close to me and open my blanket she kiss me and hug me. I ask her about my father. She say that our father is very brave and he has strong will. She say he loves us more than anyone else on planet and he do anything to make me safe. Then she start sing a song. Very calm song about sky and God. I am old for this song but I can remember that she sing it when I has been very small. I hug my mother and we both sit in basement under hut. I can hear her sing to me and all the loud voice outside. I am scared for time but my mother pats my head and in time I fall asleep. When I wake up today I see my mother sleep with me. Her face is pale and her cheeks are very red from tears. I quietly get up and walk to the roof. I open it and come to our hut. It is dark because the sun is not very above yet. I see table and chair and shelves broke. The door was also broke. I come to it and walk outside. It is cold. But I am not think about cold because I see many people lying on the ground. I see some army people lie and our neighbours and the people I know. I walk through them and step over their pale faces. I stop and see a man lie on stomach. He has a gun in his hand. There are three army soldiers lie around him. They are enemies and this man kill them. I come to him and sit next by. I try to turn him over. A next moment I feel very hard pain inside my heart. I see my father’s face.

Bibliography: “United Human Rights Council, (2015). Genocide in Rwanda | United Human Rights Council. [online] Available at: http://www.unitedhumanrights.org/genocide/genocide_in_rwanda.htm [Accessed 25 Oct. 2015].

Genocide, R. (2015). The Rwandan Genocide - Facts & Summary - HISTORY.com. [online] HISTORY.com. Available at: http://www.history.com/topics/rwandan-genocide [Accessed 26 Oct. 2015] 21

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PROSE HONORABLE MENTION

THE DARKNESS WITHIN ANASTASIA KIMM GRADE 9

Lights flicker across the room. Shining through the window, it spreads across the miniscule bedroom. My hair blows in the wind as I peek my face through the opening. A car is driving across the road at an irritatingly slow speed. Squinting my eyes, I gaze into the distance. My fingertips are plastered to the window sill, my nose and cheeks cold. I sniff inwards, inaudibly. It seems to be midnight. All I can hear is the faint, endless ticking of a clock, the wind and my breathing. Creaking, the door starts opening suddenly - I snap my head - there it was - I could have sworn Digging my fingers into the wood, I feeling cold sweat develop on my scalp and neck. I rush to the bed behind me, curling up under the white duvet, my breathing heavy, pupils dilated like saucers. I tear a bite into my skin nervously, pulling at it to relieve the stress I get. It’s in here. It never leaves. Footsteps echo across the room unpleasantly as tears develop in the crevice of my eyes, paranoia shivering over my body and passing through. The footsteps stop, taking place right behind me. I take a deep breath, my fear peaking into an epic crescendo as the cover is gripped at, pulling so hauntingly, slowly uncovering me from my safety… My eyes slowly make way to it, but I was wrong. It’s just him. Hazel eyes meet with my own lime orbs, before I quickly flick my eyes downwards, discomforted by the situation and the eye contact. My back muscles contract, tense. He takes my chin and plants a kiss on my forehead, running his thin fingers against my scalp in a comforting way. I feel myself relax instantaneously, releasing my muscles from their strain. Breathing outwards, I lie down on my side. “It’s alright, Henry.” He murmurs, flicking my ear with the tip of his finger gently, before exiting the room and thinning 22

the space of the aperture. With one last glance at the window, I stretch my arms and get under the bedspread, feeling its coolness against my delicate frame. I close my eyes, shutting down my mind slowly as I fall into the vast space of dreams. “You seem to think I don’t try, Poppy. I do. I try all the time.” My voice echoes. I’m sitting on a fence. “Can’t you tell what it is? Are you sure you’re not imagining?” Poppy asks, her orbs narrowed, trying to interpret something. “Well, what does it look like?” She asks, her voice taking the form of a calm mother, softening my mind. “Henry?” “Poppy, I can never be sure. I just know it’s always there, and if I look back fast enough, I see it. It’s dark. It’s killing me slowly. I can hardly relax anymore.” I reply, my voice uneasy despite her comforting tone. “Are you sure you’re not going mad, Henry?” She asks. I’m starting to wonder that myself. “I don’t know anymore, Poppy. I don’t know. I wish I knew. I can’t escape from that… that awful thing. I’m tired of this all. I don’t know if I can pull through this anymore.” “Henry! You can’t say that. Maybe you need some help. I’m sure you’re just imagining it.” “I don’t know…” My eyes snap open, my muscles aching unpleasantly. The dream I had flickers through my mind as I explore it, word by word. It’s a memory. It was before Poppy died. She was having three children, and she just didn’t make it. Since then, someone else moved in. She’s about eighteen years old. She’s always very polite but I don’t like her. There seems to be something behind her sweet demeanor - I don’t trust her. Her smile is melancholic and I can sense it’s hiding

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secrets. Lightning flashes outside, turning the room a blanche colour. I squint my eyes. Before I can go to the window to inspect the outdoors, thunder clashes, violating my eardrums unpleasantly. I stumble backwards, falling to the wood ground. I glare under the bed as I attempt to get up. Scrambling around, I notice it. It’s right there, trailing behind me. Mocking me with it’s presence. Letting out a screech of terror, I skid across the ground. I bump into a vase, sending it toppling down and crashing into infinitesimal fragments across the floor. My palm slams onto the clay, leaving scarlet marks in my skin. It’s not there… just like that. I feel a sudden anger wash over me like crimson paint. I have the sudden urge to get up, jump out of the window and hurt something - I’m so tired of the same thing at my back. For so long it has been chewing at my sanity, ripping at my back each day. I feel it’s eyes pierce into me wherever I go. I want to KILL it! I’m so tired of it’s tormenting! I get up, enraged, all my hair on end, spiking up my back, down my spine. If I turn around quick enough, I can catch it. I’LL show it who’s boss, I have to I snap my neck behind me at lightning speed, yet everything seems to go in slow motion as I turn back. Sure enough, it’s there, right behind me. I reach towards it quickly before grasping it between my pristine white teeth,

I press down on it with mighty force. Suddenly I feel a pang of pain. The metallic, sharp taste of blood reaches my tongue. The pain is overwhelming, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The feeling of thick muscle presses against my gum. Twitching relentlessly, it shakes and shivers under my bite. I let out a cry of pain. It’s only getting worse, but I cannot give up. I can’t live like this. With another bite, fur gets tangled up between my teeth. The pain is excruciating, it takes great will to continue. It’s tearing on my inside, it’s My mind slowly goes blank as I rhythmically bite, the sequence slowing as the fuzziness crawls into my head. It’s… it’s dead. Blood rushes to the covers, coming from behind me. With my last moments of consciousness, I flick my ears in agony and let out a pained meow, echoing across the room and down the hall. My whiskers twitch. The monster lies on the floor, color leaving it’s frame. It’s long and furry and dark… like me. My eyes shut and I fall into the bed, my paws giving way. It’s dead. This thing that has been part of my life for so long… is dead.

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NON FICTION WINNER

A LIFE OF LITERATURE MAXIMILIAN KONSTANTINOVSKY GRADE 9

Many a thought does the piece present to the prying minds of its readers, but the sole existence of those thoughts depends on the reasoning that occurs in the author’s mind. The question remains, how do these thoughts appear within his mind. In order to inquire into this subject, one must first find a connection between the life of the author and his piece, thus justifying the influence of an author’s beliefs upon their work. Ayn Rand and her novel The Atlas Shrugged resemble an example relevant to inspection within the focus of this topic. The Bolshevik Revolution left a negative impact on Rand’s childhood. This defined her preference of capitalist ideas, especially the concept of individualism, over communism. After graduating in Saint Petersburg, she left for the United States and decided to stay and work there as a playwright and later an author. She has always considered The Atlas Shrugged as her magnum opus and believed it to resemble the cradle of her ideology, Objectivism, thus depicting her grand thoughts and virtues within her characters and the world that envelops them (Rand, 1957). The protagonist of Rand’s last novel, Dagny Taggart, reflects the author and often depicts the ideology and the traits so close to Rand’s heart. Dagny shows great initiative, curiosity and talent, working as a respected industrial businesswoman. She believes in individualism and talent rather than omniscient equality. Dagny resides as equal or superior to many men within the book, this shows Rand’s virtue of a balanced society with opportunities for everyone, extraneous to their sex, race or wealth. Rand has previously experienced prejudice in several of these aspects. After graduating high school in the Crimean Peninsula, she moved back to St. Petersburg and attended the first university in Russia that was open to women. She previously had difficulties with applying elsewhere due to the objectification of women and the popular concept of their inferiority during that period of time and, even though it slowly loosened in the Soviet Union, it still remained and caused great discomfort to Rand 24

whose intellect appeared greatly superior to that of her peers (Iep.utm.edu, 2016). Rand’s experience in the university greatly increased her animosity of Soviet ideals. Shortly before graduation, university officials expelled Rand and several other formerbourgeois students due to an anti-bourgeois “purging” that occurred throughout the nation. This deprived Rand of education which she thought of as one of her most valuable resources. She soon returned alongside other students after several foreigners composed a letter expressing their disagreement with the expulsion (Aynrand.org, 2016). This experience identified Rand’s future urge for individualism and freedom that she displayed within Objectivism and the potential utopian society that the talented individuals would rebuild over the ruins of the old order. This significant part of the story identified altruism and caring for others as a weakness while rational self-interest, one of the main pillars of Objectivism, assumes its role as heroic (Cato Unbound, 2016). For example Dagny decides to stay, as she believes that she could still fix the society, while other talented people, both her lovers amongst them, are leaving for Atlantis. Even though she then changes her mind, the talented could have abandoned her and other citizens in order to save themselves. These individuals are presented as positive characters, intelligent and talented. While on the other hand, Dagny’s brother James, the story’s local antagonist and a powerful politician, appears as a despicable character. That occurs due to Rand’s negative approach towards an overpowered government, as seen in the novel, which possess an ideology similar to the concepts of Communism (Rand, 1957). Ayn Rand had experienced the hardships brought by the revolution from early childhood as the Soviets confiscated her father’s pharmacy and caused them to live in poverty, often starving. The Objectivist ideas that Rand wanted to convey in her play identified as too radical and pro-capitalist. Knowing that her play wouldn’t be allowed for performance in the

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Soviet Union, she decided that the United States would allow for a better opportunity at expressing her ideas (Badhwar, 2016). Rand rejected religion, mainly due to her love for literary geniuses and philosophers, such as Nietzsche, Schiller and Hugo, as well as the communist ideals that found refuge in many classrooms throughout the country, leaving no one without impact. All of the characters within The Atlas Shrugged show great disdain for religion (Bidinotto, 2016). Rand’s thoughts on it can be seen through Galt’s monologue, “A sin without volition is a slap at morality and an insolent contradiction in terms: that which is outside the possibility of choice is outside the province of morality. If man is evil by birth, he has no will, no power to change it; if he has no will, he can be neither good nor evil; a robot is amoral. To hold, as man’s sin, a fact not open to his choice is a mockery of morality. To hold man’s nature as his sin is a mockery of nature. To punish him for a crime he committed before he was born is a mockery of justice. To hold him guilty in a matter where no innocence exists is a mockery of reason. To destroy morality, nature, justice and reason by means of a single concept is a feat of evil hardly to be matched.” In this quote Galt points out the absurdity of the Original Sin (Lee, 2016). The university introduced Rand to Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle, the initial creators of syllogism and the first ones to study logic as an aspect of science and code of conduct. Rand’s passion towards these masterminds formed her own philosophy of selfish-rationalism. Atheism and Objectivism identified as a dangerous mix during post-revolutionary times in Russia.

The rejection of her concepts declared itself obvious to Rand. The Atlas Shrugged portrayed these virtues of hers through its protagonist, Dagny, and the mysterious John Galt, a mastermind of great talent and industrial excellence, Rand’s perfect man. Many think that Galt represents Frank O’Connor, Rand’s husband, but a version closer to the truth remains in terms of Galt depicting Rand’s other love interest, a man she considered her soulmate, Nathaniel Branden, while Hank Rearden, Dagny’s earlier love interest in the book whom she broke up with, represents O’Connor (The Objective Standard, 2016). Rand formed the world of The Atlas Shrugged under strict traits of industry and science, visual arts and music receives few mentions within the novel, even though her involvement in this topic served as a pillar to her works. Rand began her literary work after she worked as a screenwriter, having several of her works performed on broadway and even made it into cinematography. Her artless world occurs in such a way because Rand wanted to create a world that would be worthy of destruction and its title as a dystopia, a world that she herself wouldn’t want to live in. From Rand’s point of view, that world must be destroyed so that Galt and Dagny could build a new one (Branden, 1986). A vast array of thought appears within a novel and a vast array of reasons exist to justify the author’s writing. From the evidence described above, readers may conclude that these reasons and connections indeed exist between the author’s work and his life, as can be seen through Ayn Rand and her novel The Atlas Shrugged, which serve as an excellent example of these connections.

Reference List: Rand, Ayn. Atlas Shrugged. New York: Random House, 1957. Print.

Badhwar, Neera K., and Roderick T. Long. “Ayn Rand”. Plato. stanford.edu. N.p., 2010. Web. 5 Feb. 2016.

Bidinotto, Robert. “Atlas Shrugged Timeline | Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged | The Atlas Society”. The Atlas Society. N.p., 2011. Web. 5 Feb. 2016. Atlas Shrugged,. “Genesis Of The Book”. N.p., 2010. Web. 5 Feb. 2016.

Lee, A. (2016). Atlas Shrugged: Imagine No Religion. [online] Daylight Atheism. Available at: http://www.patheos. com/blogs/daylightatheism/2016/01/atlas-shrugged-imagine-no-religion/ [Accessed 27 Feb. 2016].

Quebecoislibre.org,. “ATLAS SHRUGGED: A NOVEL OF HUMAN ACTION”. N.p., 2016. Web. 5 Feb. 2016.

Iep.utm.edu, (2016). Rand, Ayn Alissa | Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. [online] Available at: http://www.iep.utm. edu/rand/ [Accessed 3 Feb. 2016].

Cato Unbound,. “January 2010: What’S Living And Dead In Ayn Rand’S Moral And Political Thought”. N.p., 2016. Web. 5 Feb. 2016. Aynrand.org,. N.p., 2016. Web. 5 Feb. 2016. Branden, Barbara. The Passion Of Ayn Rand. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1986. Print. The Objective Standard,. “Who Is Ayn Rand? - The Objective Standard”. N.p., 2016. Web. 5 Feb. 2016.

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NON FICTION HONORABLE MENTION

DNA: PROSPECTS OF IDENTIFYING HUNTINGTON’S DISEASE USING GENETIC TESTING NIKITA KYRYLLOV GRADE 9

The human body is the most complex mechanism known to man. It is comprised of trillions of cells, which in turn create tissues, which then create organs, which are arranged in organ systems, which when finally assembled together create the complete organism. The creation of such a complex network is governed by yet another system of genes. Genes are loci of DNA, which transmit the traits of two parent organisms to their offspring, and hold the code for the creation of all of the different parts of said offspring. Genes are very effective and function properly most of the time, albeit like every single part of the human body they have their flaws. These flaws, known as genetic disorders, are abnormalities in one’s DNA that can either affect only one gene, or they can involve the addition or subtraction of an entire chromosome (Learn.Genetics, 2016). One of the types of genetic diseases are adult onset genetic diseases. One such disease is called Huntington’s disease, which I will be analyzing throughout this essay. Huntington’s disease, also known as Huntington’s chorea, is a progressive neurological disorder that causes involuntary, spasmodic movements such as jerks in the arms and twitches in the face - chorea, and the long term and gradual loss of one’s mental capabilities, leading to a deterioration in the memory, thinking, and cognitive abilities of the affected person. This disease has no known cure, although treatments can help with the involuntary movements and somewhat with the neurological symptoms (Romito, K., & Dolan, S. M., 2014, 26

March 12). Huntington’s disease is hereditary, and if one of a person’s parents had this sickness they have a 50% chance of inheriting it from them. This disease is estimated to affect 5 to 7 people out of every 100,000 worldwide (Phillips, D.H. 2001). Huntington’s disease is a genetic disorder that is caused by the deformation of a protein called the huntingtin protein. It is created by the huntingtin gene, also known as the HTT or the HD gene. Mutations in said gene cause the deformation of the huntingtin protein and the development of Huntington’s disease. The mutation of the huntingtin revolves around the DNA segment known as the CAG trinucleotide repeat. In normal people, this segment is repeated from 10 to up to 35 times in the huntingtin gene. In sufferers of Huntington’s disease this segment is repeated from 36 to 120 times, causing the huntingtin protein to mutate and cause Huntington’s disease. People with from 36 to 39 repeats of the CAG repeat may or may not develop the disease, but people with 40 repeats and upwards will almost invariably develop it (Genetics home reference, 2016). Although there aren’t any cures at this time, there is a genetic test which is reliable and inexpensive, which can be used to diagnose people with this sickness, as well as medication to lessen the symptoms. The genetic test for Huntington’s disease involves using the white blood cells from a blood sample to analyze the DNA of a person and determine the number of repeats of the CAG trinucleotide repeat in the huntingtin gene. Individuals with more than 28 repeats are at

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risk of developing symptoms of the disease. The test is fairly certain. If an individual exhibits more than 40 CAG repeats in their huntingtin gene, they have a very high chance of having the disease. However, the test is only certain for people with a number of repeats higher than 40. For people with a lower number or repeats the test isn’t as certain and these people don’t have a high chance of having the disease. Since Huntington’s disease doesn’t show symptoms until around mid - life, finding out about having it at an early age has many benefits. Firstly, it provides a long period of time for coping with having this illness by talking to psychologists and family members, and can greatly ease the emotional pain later in life. Secondly, it allows the sufferer to make plans to save up for the medicine for treating said illness and for visiting

therapists which will also help with lessening the symptoms, and with those two things together the affected individual can live a rather fulfilling life by taking medication to lessen their symptoms considerably and learning to communicate, eat and do daily activities with the disorder. Therefore, I strongly believe that once an individual is old enough and will take the news seriously and responsibly and is also willing to take the test, they can take the inexpensive and effective genetic test and begin coping with their sickness, making arrangements for an early retirement and visiting physiotherapists, occupational therapists and speech therapists, sparing them mental anguish later in life.

Bibliography National Human Genome Research Institute. (2011, November 17). Learning About Huntington’s Disease. Retrieved March 10, 2016, from https://www.genome. gov/10001215

Liou, S. (2010, June 26). The Behavioral Symptoms of Huntington’s Disease. Retrieved March 10, 2016, from http://web.stanford.edu/group/hopes/cgi-bin/hopes_test/ the-behavioral-symptoms-of-huntingtons-disease/

Mayo clinic. (2014, July 24). Huntington’s disease treatments and drugs. Retrieved March 10, 2016, from http:// www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/huntingtons-disease/basics/treatment/con-20030685

Romito, K., & Dolan, S. M. (2014, March 12). Huntington’s Disease. Retrieved March 10, 2016, from http://www.webmd.com/hw-popup/huntingtons-disease

Phillips, D. H. (2001). How common is Huntington’s disease (HD)? Retrieved March 10, 2016, from http://www.huntingtonsnsw.org.au/information/hd-facts/how-common

Genetics home reference. (2016, March 7). HTT gene. Retrieved March 10, 2016, from https://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/ gene/HTT

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P O E T RY W I N N E R

THE WITHERED TUNE OLIVER JAHN GRADE 12

A worn out canvas Playing an old and withered tune, The repetitions of a torn and tattered soul; Blades that my skin neatly wear, Dressed in clothes with ruby flair, Wrapping an unceasing snare In hope, someone, at last, will care. A stream meanders slowly down, A warm touch upon the ground, A source of life released and freed A sense of peace brought forth by need, A tear, a tear One here one there, Each precise with surgical hands To create an artwork unsurpassed.

An artwork time will soon erase, Faint scars are left to mark the face, The paintbrush lifted once again To find the beauty in blissful pain, Colours of emotion gushing out, Love and anger and passion sprout, Cut down with the sharpest words To fall to the ground like a broken bird, The waltzing river starts to spread, Stealing back life and leaving the dead, A canvas crumbles as it cuts the last thread The pieces painting the ground in red.

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P O E T RY H O N O R A B L E M E N T I O N

THE CRUSH RACHEL MACDONALD GRADE 12

The Crush I wonder if I should go talk to her....

He’s staring at me again...

But what would I say?

Is he okay?

She’s staring.. smile you idiot! Maybe I should stop?

Is he okay...? Wait, was he flirting?

She must think I’m a creep!

Was he the one that sent the rose?

This was a mistake...

Wait, where is he going?

I’m such an idiot...

I wonder if I should go talk to him...

Wait, she’s smiling back!

Okay, I caught his attention, now what?

Just go up to her!

He’s walking towards me, what should I do?

What should I say?

Why am I so nervous? I’ve known him for years!

I love you? No...

What will he do? What should I say?

You’re beautiful?

I can’t move... what’s wrong with me?

Join me for dinner?

Am I still smiling? Why I am such a creep?

Almost there...

What if he wasn’t flirting? Maybe I should run aHey.

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PROSE WINNER

THE READING BASKET MARIA TURNER GRADE 12

She sat on the toilet and played with the toilet paper roll. Someone had replaced the roll the night before, and it would last another two days at least. But the edge of the toilet paper hung behind the roll. “You did that thing with the toilet paper again,” she called through the closed door. From outside the bathroom he said, in a pained voice, “Clara.” “I’m flipping it now, don’t worry,” she told him, and took the roll off its hook and flipped it so the edge hung in front. Humming a little, she glanced around at the interior of the bathroom, at the tiles and bathtub and towels. “I think we should get the tiles redone,” she said. “Clara.” “No, really. The man at Home Depot said Marine Green was a great bathroom color. I like it better than the blue - Aqua Blue? Aquarium Blue? Whatever this is. I think it’ll match the towels better. Or maybe we just need to replace the towels. A cream, or beige. Something with contrast. The red just doesn’t work.” There was a long silence from outside. She began to hum again, and sat forward on the toilet to look through the basket of bathroom reading materials. They kept it fully stocked – he would add his comic books to the basket after reading them, and she would contribute each new issue of Vogue and Martha Stewart Living. There was a time when they had agreed to keep only high literature in the basket, but it was short-lived. After a week he began smuggling in copies of Local Hero and she would find them hiding at the bottom of the basket, and would read them until her bottom was numb. 30

The one she had now was Local Hero, Volume 10. Hero was battling a nefarious thug known as Red Anonymous. Red had killed Hero’s girlfriend in Volume 9, with his gruesome signature move: a deathblow to the gut (hence the ‘Red’) and a smooth disappearance into the sewage canals of the city. Hero’s current strategy was to track Red Anonymous through the canals with his infrared vision and stealth. “I have no idea how Hero expects to find Red in the canals,” she remarked, looking down at the book on her lap. “It’s unfamiliar territory. They’re going to draw this villain out for ages, I bet.” “Clara,” he said again, voice muffled through the door. “Let me in.” The doorknob turned and caught on the lock. It jiggled a little bit. She watched it move and stared at the door, thumbing the page she was on. “Well,” she looked back down. “Maybe this is actually the end. And he’ll die in the sewers and we get the next incarnation of the Local Hero. I think the writers do that to stay in business as long as possible, because I feel like people don’t respond well to a final death these days. I mean, look at Doctor Who.” She kept reading. There was a quiet thump against the door and then the sound of his back sliding down the wood. There was another thump, perhaps his head. He’d had a concussion a couple months back at a roller rink; a last-minute date-night idea. He’d been cruising around the rink, going backwards and forwards at breakneck speed, skating along on one foot, doing jumps every time he lapped

her. A small child, completely out of control, had blindsided him and he’d crashed headfirst into the rink wall. The doctor made several points about wearing helmets and she stood watch over him all night. There was a pamphlet about concussions still living in the reading basket, among the comics and magazines. She pulled it out from under a stack of magazines and tossed it into the bathroom trash. He was fine now. As an afterthought, she picked up the pamphlet on the top of the pile. What to Expect in the Second Trimester, by Lindsay Greene. “Won’t be needing this anymore,” she said matter-offactly. “Honey,” she said, and heard him twist against the door. “Yes. Yes?” “Do you feel like starting dinner? Just the rice, maybe? I’ll do the sauce later. Jasmine rice. It’s in the pantry on the bottom shelf.” He pounded his fist against the door and she started, dropping the comic book. “Please,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “Please. I – please Clara, let me in. Just let me in.” She fidgeted and stared at the door. Then she crossed her arms around her stomach and squeezed her eyes shut. Twenty minutes later, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands, dried them, and rubbed some lotion on her knuckles. Then she unlocked and opened the door. He stared up at her, and then reached up to touch her hand. She stepped over him and went downstairs to make the rice.

M I S H E L - A N A S TA S YA K Y R Y L L O VA , F LY I N G C AT O G , 2 0 1 6 PA P E R M AC H É , AC R Y L I C PA I N T

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PROSE HONORABLE MENTION

UNIFORM OLIVER JAHN GRADE 12

The bell sounded at six in the morning waking everyone up as usual. In a practiced manner, the city moved like a welloiled machine. Citizens collectively got out of their beds and prepared for the day ahead of them; showering, getting dressed, eating breakfast, and finally, if they had already reached maturity, putting on their ties. This had been the routine of the city for the better part of the past century without a blunder. Near the city center, Matthew strode to the door, ready to leave for his first day at work before being stopped by his mother. “Slow down honey, let me have a look at you before you go off on your first day at work. You’re growing up so fast!” She said, almost squealing while looking over her son. A stern look overcame her features as her gaze focused on her son’s neck. Reaching forwards, she grasped his tie and quickly undid the eccentric knot her son had made before redoing the knot as society demanded. Once she finished she let him leave while she muttered about how lucky he was that someone highly ranked had seen him. As he walked towards the bus stop he thought of the knot he had made this morning and why it was so bad not to follow the rules of society. At the bus stop, he saw a few people who fit into the higher ranks that his mother had muttered about, distinguished by the number of stars marking their suit. The people taking the bus consisted mostly of 3-star citizens and below. The stars marked a person’s importance in society. 5 stars were worn by highly ranked government officials, 4 stars, mainly by important business men, 3 stars by lower ranked government officials and law enforcement officers, 2 stars by the regular working class like Matthew, and 1 star by the outcasts of society. 1 star was worn by people who were born different, or were unable to complete their work, people who were a burden to society. Originally, 1 star meant an eventual death sentence until they were found to be more useful as test subjects for scientific advances and helpers for the upper 32

class. Still, it was rare to see someone with 1 star anymore. When the bus arrived Matthew quickly scurried to his designated class area near the back of the bus. The trip to work was uneventful other than the one 1-star citizen who walked on at the next stop and slowly shuffled to the back of the bus. His suit was dirty and tattered in places but looked to have once been expensive, a disgruntling look aided by the man’s disheveled beard and even more incredible, the man wasn’t wearing his tie. Matthew quickly left the bus at his stop after which he cast a last look towards the 1-star man who, to Matthew’s surprise, had also left the bus. Shrugging off the strange situation, Matthew walked into the office building. He had recently been assigned a job at the conscription building. The last time he had walked through the doors of the building, he had left with a job there. Now he would be on the other side of the desk, deciding where the best workplace for applicants would be. Walking up to the secretary Matthew stated his name and was quickly ushered into his new office. A few moments later the door opened to reveal Matthew’s boss Aaron. Aaron sauntered over to Matthew’s desk and took the seat usually filled by applicants. “So Matthew, before you start working I’m gonna tell you a few rules of the job. First, always be in uniform, second, don’t come late, and finally, don’t waste your time with 1-stars, give those jobs to more deserving people.” The last rule confused Matthew but he nodded nonetheless, eager to start working. With a smile, Aaron got up and left the office wishing Matthew luck as he left. A few minutes after Aaron left, the secretary that was in the lobby earlier walked into the room, followed by the 1-star who had gotten off the bus behind Matthew. Confused, he looked at the woman who shrugged almost casually, but the look she gave Matthew had a clear message: Get rid of him. Plastering a smile on his face Matthew welcomed the man who introduced himself as Altair Mulder, and ushered the

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secretary out of the room. As Altair took the seat in front of Matthew, he quickly glanced around the room, looking for any threat. The short silence was soon broken by Matthew. “Hello Mr. Altair, my name is Matthew. Now, what is it that you hope to get out of our meeting today?” “Good morning Matthew, I was hoping to get a job. Anything is fine so long as the salary lets me provide for my family, and please, call me Altair.” Matthew was taken aback by the man’s reply and how different he was from most advertised 1-stars. Not only was his speech not broken, but his intentions were clear and thought out, unlike the rash decisions 1-stars were always shown to make. “Forgive me for asking this Mr. Altair but where were you educated? It’s only that I’ve never known someone with only 1 star to be as educated as you.” “It’s alright Matthew, I went to Oakwood Academy before attending Stur University,” he replied with a slight grin. Matthew was even more surprised by this than he had been by Altair’s evident intellect. This was because Oakwood academy was reserved for the children of 4 and 5-star citizens, and the brightest children of 3-stars. This wasn’t as impressive as going to Stur University though. Stur was the best and most selective university in the country. Only the brightest were given a chance to apply, and only a handful of them got in. It was a clear path from Stur to having 5 stars. Thinking about this, Matthew wondered: If this was all true, why did Altair only have 1 star now? He was brought out of his thoughts by Altair’s chuckling. “Impressive right? Could’ve had 5 stars now, but I couldn’t work for such an oppressive government.” Seeing the confusion on Matthew’s face, Altair continued. “Everything that you’ve been told is a lie. 1-star citizens are not the bane of society. Once they might have been, but now they are an image created by the government to keep control. Political enemies are stripped of their stars and sent back into society, then citizens do the rest. Before today, how

many 1-stars have you spoken to? Probably none, correct?” His only answer was a nod from Matthew prompting Altair to continue. “How many have you passed on the street, without more than a glance? More than you can count, correct? How much more do you know about any of them than what you are being told? Nothing right?” Two more nods came from Matthew. Altair was about to continue but Matthew interrupted. “What happened though? What did you do to lose your stars; and why don’t you wear a tie?” “I told the truth. I talked to a couple of 1-stars one day and learned about their lives. Each of them came from highly ranked backgrounds, but had opposed the government. Eventually, I did the same. I told others at Stur the truth. I thought that if they knew the truth we might be able to change society. They found out about my plan before I could follow through with it though. Within a day, I was stripped of my stars. My family and friends wouldn’t listen to me, and could barely look me in the eyes now that I was a 1-star. As for the tie, I don’t wear it because it is a symbol of conformity. The final piece of the uniform, given to everyone before going to university. The government uses the tie to make people feel the same. No one is different, making everyone feel safe, but no one can question anything either. No one can be creative, or independent. The only difference is the stars. The one marker, creating indisputable classes.” The following silence lasted a couple of minutes as Matthew took the time to process what he had just heard. He thought back to all the 1-stars he had seen in his past but found that he could remember none of them. Any one of them could have once been a politician’s son or an old policeman, but he had never looked closely enough to notice. Thinking back to the rules of the job, Matthew sighed before speaking again. “Look, I’m not really supposed to give jobs to 1-stars.” “Of course not. Heaven forbid anyone opposing the government can find means to survive.” 33

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Seeing the downcast look on Altair’s face after his sarcastic outburst, Matthew quickly continued. “I’ll see what I can do though. There are a few places in need of workers quickly. I can’t guarantee it will be permanent. You will most likely be fired once you’re no longer useful.” A smile immediately appeared on Altair’s face before he jumped up and hugged Matthew, a gesture that would be frowned upon by most people. The embrace lasted a few seconds at most but sparked something within Matthew. He had never been this close to a person since his childhood. It brought a smile on his face to know that he could make someone so happy that they would disregard social standards, to see a reaction so raw in its emotion. Altair soon left after thanking Matthew profusely. The rest of the day went by quickly with only two other people coming to see Matthew. As he was leaving, Matthew was stopped by his boss. “Listen, I know that you gave a job to that 1-star and I get it. We all make mistakes sometimes, and sometimes they trick you with some fake sympathy story to prey on your emotions. You have to understand though, that there are better, more deserving people who are trying to get these jobs as well. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but try not to let it happen again.” Matthew wanted to interrupt but began doubting his meeting. Was it possible that Altair had lied to him? Was there another way to explain how he was so educated? Did he even have a family? Matthew continued asking himself these questions as he waited for the bus to arrive. Once it came he moved to his designated area and sat down, eager to return home. The route home took longer than the one to work and Matthew was given a lot of time to think about his encounter with Altair. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got until he realized that there was only one way to find out the truth. Every day for the next month, once he got out of work 34

Matthew would take the bus home and then walk to the city center. There he would wait until he found a 1-star and would speak to them. He wasn’t always successful in finding one, he had only met seven 1-stars in the four weeks. The first used to be a secretary for the mayor who had spoken out about the medical testing done on 1-stars. The second was a businessman, who after discovering the truth, only hired 1-stars. The third and seventh were police officers, who had both discovered the history of multiple 1-stars, and restrained from beating them afterward. The fourth and fifth were doctors who at some point had prioritized 1-stars due to the seriousness of their wounds. The sixth, and perhaps most notable, was once a presidential candidate named Arlo, one that Matthew recognized. He had a similar background to Altair’s but rather than trying to tell people about the government’s silencing method when he learned about it, he decided to wait until he had the power to change it. He worked hard to become a leading presidential candidate and could potentially have become president one day had it not been for his assistant finding out about his plan through his notes one day, and his secret being discovered. It was quickly made to seem as though he had dropped out due to being very sick, and he was never heard of again. Most assumed that he was dead. The 1-stars that Matthew had spoken to had very different backgrounds but all had one thing in common. They had all seen 1-stars as people rather than the scum of society, a view that Matthew had begun to adopt. The day after he spoke to Arlo, Matthew decided to go to work without wearing his tie to see what would happen. He left early, so as to avoid his parents and arrived at the office earlier than usual. Once he entered the lobby he heard a gasp come from the secretary followed by quick, precise footsteps. A few seconds later he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a low voice. “Sir, you are going to have to put on your tie before continuing to work.”

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“I’m sorry but it seems that I forgot it at home, officer,” Matthew replied. “It’s alright sir, we have a few extra for just this type of situation. Please don’t let it happen again.” The officer left and returned a minute later with a standard black tie which he handed to Matthew. Forcing a smile, Matthew took the tie and with ease put the tie on using a standard knot. He thanked the officer before walking to his office. That day, Matthew decided that he to would try to make a difference in society. He knew that he would never be able to do as much as Altair or Arlo could have, but he also knew that he could make a difference in the lives of individual 1-stars. From that day on, Matthew found simple and inconspicuous jobs and gave them to any 1-stars that came to his office. As word spread among the 1-stars that someone in the conscription office was giving jobs to 1-stars, they came more and more often. Eventually, the office became suspicious and Matthew had to send most of the 1-stars home to keep up the pretense of indifference, but the seed of doubt had already been planted. People started noticing when 1-stars left Matthew’s office looking happy, rather than dejected. The next day as Matthew was about to walk into his office a 5-star, flanked by two 3-stars walked up to him and ask if they could speak for a moment. Knowing that he couldn’t refuse he simply nodded and followed the man out of the building. The people in the building stared as he Matthew left. Though none of them were sure of what was happening, they all suspected that it had something to do with the increased number of 1-stars leaving Matthew’s office. The day at the office building was slow and uneventful until the evening when Matthew returned. The secretary gasped drawing everyone’s attention to his return, though many did not recognize him at first. His clothes were dirty and worn, his hair was tangled, and he seemed to have aged years in the few hours that he was gone. Most noticeable however,

was that one of his stars was gone. Unbeknownst to Matthew, the government had assigned two new officers to the building with instructions to keep all 1-stars out. This was to prevent the situation from repeating. As Matthew walked through the door, the guards sprung into action and roughly removed Matthew from the building telling him to leave. The conscription workers were shocked, but smart enough to keep quiet about what they had seen. Matthew stood at the bus stop for a few minutes annoyed at the way he had been treated. When the bus came he quickly walked on and sat in his usual seat only to be roughly pushed out of it by an elderly man next to him. He was about to yell at the man before the old man pushed him into the 1-star section with his cane. Realization dawned on Matthew that with the loss of his star, everything in his life would be different. When the bus arrived at his stop, Matthew rushed out, careful not to make eye-contact with any of the other passengers. Feeling saddened and angered by the day’s events he stormed home, relieved that the day would soon be over. When he walked into the house he called out to his mother who replied that she was in the kitchen. Slowly, he walked into the kitchen to see her. When he walked in, his mother turned around with a pan of rice ready to place it on the table for dinner. As she looked at him however, she dropped the pan in shock. The porcelain shattered, spilling rice all over the floor. The noise alerted Matthew’s father, who quickly rushed into the kitchen to see what happened. Almost immediately after he entered the kitchen he stopped abruptly, seeing Matthew. A stern expression overcame his face as he saw that Matthew only had one star now and he moved towards his wife, preferring to look at her rather than Matthew. Quietly, he told his son to get out and not to come back. Shocked by what he had just heard Matthew froze and stared at his parents, whispering, he asked, 35

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“What?” Louder, his father repeated his command, restraining his mother when she tried to run to Matthew. His father screamed at Matthew to get out in rage. Rejected, Matthew left the house, with neither parent able to bear watching his figure leave. Having nowhere to go, Matthew walked to the city center hoping to find a 1-star and learn where they lived. Having walked around for a couple of hours, Matthew began giving up hope as he heard a woman’s scream. Matthew’s head snapped in the direction of the noise and he saw a woman screaming about having lost something. As she was explaining her situation to a nearby officer, Matthew moved closer to the woman to see what was happening. He learned that she couldn’t find her keycard. As she explained her situation animatedly, her eyes passed by Matthew before stopping her explanation abruptly. “He must have taken it,” she screamed at the officer pointing straight at Matthew before continuing. “I mean think about it. He is the only 1-star around here. Of course, he must have taken it. No one else would have anything to gain from taking my keycard.” The officer seemed to agree with the woman and he slowly moved toward Matthew, removing his baton from his hip as he walked. “Sir, I’m going to give you five seconds to give this woman back her keycard before I decide to make you give it back.” Matthew barely had a the time to reply that he hadn’t taken the keycard before the officer’s baton slammed into Matthew’s leg. He quickly fell onto the ground before being hit on the back and in the arm. Three more hits landed before the woman interrupted the officer. “I found it! Sorry to worry you like that officer. It turns out it was in the inside pocket of my suit though I can’t imagine how it got there.” She left immediately after that leaving the officer to turn back to Matthew. He expected the officer to help him up and apologize but the officer did no such thing. 36

“You heard the woman. She found her keycard. Now keep walking 1-star, before I make you,” the officer spat out. Limping, Matthew quickly shuffled out of the square, ignoring his pain for the time-being. He had never felt so weak or insignificant. As he moved through an alley, a 1-star walked up to him. He told him that he had seen what happened and told Matthew to follow him if he wanted to survive the night. Seeing no choice, Matthew shuffled behind the man as fast as he could. The man’s strict pace caused waves of pain to course through Matthew’s body with each step, but he pushed through it until the man stopped in front of a large warehouse. The two men walked into the warehouse. As Matthew looked around at all the people inside the man called for a woman named Karen. A few short moments later, a short woman emerged from the crowd. As she moved closer Matthew recognized her as one of the doctors he had spoken to in the city center. The woman rushed up to him, taking in his injuries before yelling for someone to bring her equipment. An hour later Matthew got off a stretcher with a cast on his right leg and left arm and a couple rolls of gauze wrapped around his torso. The doctor told him not to move around too much for a few weeks to allow his body to heal, after which he should meet with her to discuss possible rehabilitation. Four months passed before Matthew was fully healed. His arm and leg worked perfectly and he didn’t need any rehabilitation. Physically, he was in peak condition. Mentally, however, that was far from the case. In the four months that he had been there, he had seen countless 1-stars hobble into the warehouse in worse conditions than he had been. He had seen children die from malnourishment, and mothers starving themselves to provide for their families. Matthew had gotten close to Karen since arriving at the warehouse and considered her a friend. Due to this, he trusted her enough to tell him the truth about the population of 1-stars. She told him that most of the 1-stars were spread out between three warehouses like the one they were in but a few families had small apartments. He asked if it would be possible to gather all of the 1-stars in one place, to which she

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answered that it was unusual, but possible. She told him that she would talk to some of the messengers and see when a meeting would be possible. That night, Karen found Matthew sitting alone against a wall of the warehouse and told him the news. The three groups were prepared to meet, as long as they knew what the purpose of this meeting was. “Tell them that it’s time the rest of society stops treating us like scum and learn that we are people too.” A week later Matthew stood on a makeshift stage in front of thousands of 1-stars. Nervous, he collected his thoughts before walking to the edge of the stage. The cacophony of conversations stilled instantly as every person in the room focused on Matthew. Taking a deep breath, Matthew surveyed the crowd in front of him and began speaking. “For half a century now, the government has kept away any opposition by creating a mockery of them. The labeling of political enemies as subhuman has gone unchallenged for too long. Most of us have lost everything, and the rest only stand to lose more if we don’t fight the oppression. We may be few, but together we can become a force to be reckoned with. Our strength is in our disgrace. We can go anywhere, and people will ignore us, do anything without people looking our way. Their pretense of superiority will be their downfall. They labeled us with one, and as one, we shall rise. From every alley, we will pour out into the streets screaming the truth. As the people learn of the lie they have been told they will turn, and they too, will stand with us. Once the truth is out, the government will be forced to act, proving the truth to those who will not listen. We have been cast into the night, avoided by the rest of society, but stars shine brightest at night, and now is the time to make people notice.” As his speech continued Matthew grew louder and louder until he was yelling, with the crowd screaming in agreement. “Remove their uniforms! Become an individual in this mass of oppression! Remove your ties with me and let it serve as a message that we will not conform to the injustice forced upon us! We will fight until our last breaths for change and when

people join our cause, have them remove their ties as well as a sign of allegiance! As we go out, watch society change as more people join us as equals, and we force the government to meet us on our terms!” As he said the last words, Matthew removed his tie and was met with a deafening roar as everyone in the crowd removed their ties as well. Fueled by their anger and determination, the crowd rushed out of the warehouse and onto the streets of the city. The city centre was soon filled with 1-stars chanting various messages such as remove your ties, and cut ties with the government or we will rise as one and become the brightest star in the night. Some 1-stars would break off from the group and go to other streets, or stop pedestrians to explain the truth behind 1-stars. No one joined the cause the first day, but no one was deterred by this. News quickly reached the government of the situation ,but as no one had joined the 1-stars, the government remained faithful to their system of propaganda against the 1-stars. They did retaliate to the situation though, by releasing mass alerts to the citizens that the 1-stars had become increasingly violent and should be avoided if seen. Despite this, the 1-stars continued chanting and advertising the truth to the public. A week later, They had their first recruit: a 3-star scientist who had been curious to see the reason behind the sudden aggression. That night, as the 1-stars returned to their warehouses, the only thing left behind, was the scientist’s tie. Over the next couple of weeks, the number of recruits increased almost exponentially. One week one person would join, the next it would be three, the next seven would join, then ten, etc. These recruits would return to their families and friends and would continue to spread the truth until more than a hundred people would join weekly. When a thousand people had joined the 1-stars, the government could no longer see this as a failed revolution. It was now a very real threat to the government. In response to the revolution, they decided the best way to quench the flame 37

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would be to extinguish the source of the anger, their leader. To find out who this was, they sent an agent to infiltrate the 1-stars and discover the identity of the leader. By the time the infiltration plan was initiated, the 1-stars had gone on the offensive. Within a week various government buildings and offices, had been destroyed throughout the city. The Revolution was growing as well. People in other cities across the country had begun removing their ties and siding with the 1-stars. Three days after the infiltration of the warehouse, a report was delivered to the government. When it was opened, a large picture of Matthew was seen. It was circled in red and labeled with the word leader. The next page contained details of the next raid that Matthew would join. It was a small raid of a granary near the outskirts of the city that would occur the next day. Only a small group was going, to remain inconspicuous. It would be the perfect opportunity to capture Matthew. The military convoy had been hidden around the granary for three hours before Matthew and his team showed up. As soon as the group entered the granary, the military team sprung into action. They surrounded the granary and shone bright lights at each of its walls before calling out to Matthew. They told him that he was under arrest and should give up and exit the granary peacefully so that he could be detained. Matthew sighed before telling his team to lay low and escape the first chance they got. Slowly, he walked out of the granary with his arms raised above his head. Immediately, he was surrounded by guards pointing large guns at him. Matthew barely had time to react before one of the guards slammed the butt of his gun into Matthew’s head, knocking him out. Matthew woke up seated at a metal desk in a small gray room. Looking around he realized he had nowhere to go as he couldn’t see a door anywhere. A minute or so later, a part of the wall retracted before sliding to the side. Matthew was taken aback by the man who walked into the room. “President Payne, I,” Matthew began before President Payne interrupted. “Please, call me Grayson. Now, Matthew, it seems that you haven’t been following the rules lately. Deceiving people, spreading lies about your government, playing a 38

revolutionary.” Matthew was about to speak before President Payne tutted at him and continued. “I hope you understand that this simply cannot be, so we are prepared to make you an offer. If you go out now and stop this attempted revolt, then we will let you live. If things go back to normal quickly, we are even prepared to give you back your stars.” Matthew hesitated slightly, thinking about the possibility of seeing his parents once again, but after remembering the events of the past seven months, he smirked and began speaking. “Our revolution is the product of a thousand hearts beating in sync, a thousand thoughts, tired of being locked away, and a thousand voices, sick of remaining unused. Do what you want to me, but we will rise, alone as the sun, and just as powerful. Nothing you can do will stop that anymore. Once the spark is lit, nothing will put it out.” President Payne’s lips curved into a cruel smirk before he strode out of the room. Behind the door, he told an officer to use Matthew to make a statement. At ten in the morning the next day, every screen in the city changed to display a government message. “Recently, there have been various violent riots in the city caused by 1-stars. These citizens have been spreading lies about the government and are advised to stop immediately or face the consequences. In the past, the government has been very lenient with the 1-stars, however in light of the recent, attempted revolution, we have decided to change that.” As soon as the last word was spoken, the image changed to reveal a man who had been hanged. Gasps and screams ripped through the city as people took in the image. The image zoomed in on the man until it was clear to any 1-star that the man was Matthew. This angered the 1-stars, but not as much as the fact that the government had hanged him, using one of their black, uniform ties. This was a desperate attempt by the government to stop the revolution. They hoped that seeing their dead leader would make the revolutionaries think twice, but they were wrong. The spark had been lit a long time ago. And Matthew’s death only fueled it.

A N D R E W S P E N C E R , S H A R K O N T H E W AV E , 2 0 1 5 , L I N O P R I N T

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I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

ALEXANDER LITERARY AW CONTEST SUBMISSION LOW E R M Y P P O E T RY:

DEATH

A WAR STORY

Lara Arencibia-Pender (Grade 8)

DINNER GUESTS Sena Cinar (Grade 8)

Maia Laitinen (Grade 8)

54 43

NORMAL

MY FIRST CEESA TOURNAMENT

Emily Cairns (Grade 8)

HOW DO WE FIT IN Nadia Lynn (Grade 8)

Mikki Bistransky (Grade 8)

56 44

THE MOUNTAIN OF

REHABILITATION HELPS

INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

EGGS AND HEAT

JUVENILE CRIMINALS

Andrew Spencer (Grade 8)

Binyam Aregai (Grade 8)

Mariya Kryshchuk (Grade 6)

THE ROAD TO THE

U P P E R M Y P P O E T RY:

LOW E R M Y P P R O S E :

HANGMAN’S NOOSE

BICYCLE

Binyam Aregai Grade (8)

Maia Laitinen (Grade 8)

THE CHASE Anna Zvonkova (Grade 10)

LOWER MYP NON FICTION:

FIRST TIME Bogdana Bulakh (Grade 8)

FORCED CONFESSIONS IN

THE LEGEND Anna Zvonkova (Grade 10)

MEXICO

THE FIASCO

Maia Laitinen (Grade 8)

63 50

THE MASSACRE Sena Cinar (Grade 8)

THE GIRL IS STANDING IN THE COLD

Nadia Lynn (Grade 8) FEAR DECIDES YOUR ACTIONS Janis Mikitis (Grade 7)

Nikita Taratorin (Grade 9)

R WARD

NS 2016 UPPER MYP PROSE:

HOPELESS CRUELTY

UPPER MYP NON FICTION

CARBON FOOTPRINT OF

A MEMOIR

CHOCOLATE

Hedwig Hoess, Daniel Josefson (Grade 10)

Audrey MacDonald (Grade 10)

98 76

FATE AND FAILURE

HOW MUCH DO LITTLE FACTORS Sonja Ringger (Grade 9)

A GLASS OF BORDEAUX

FINE

Nikita Taratorin (Grade 9)

Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

D P P O E T RY:

DP PROSE:

MESSAGE TO MY GRANDFATHER

LIGHT Audrey MacDonald (Grade 10)

HUNGER

100

Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

Nikita Taratorin (Grade 9)

MY BRIGHT FUTURE

Maximilian Konstantinovsky (Grade 9)

ROUTINE

UKRAINE’S PATH TO EUROPE’S SAFER FOOD STANDARDS

Nikita Kyryllov (Grade 9)

Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

Anna Bugay (Grade 10)

Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

THE COMPLICATIONS OF A MURDER

A NEW LIGHT

INFLUENCE FICTION?

Sonja Ringger (Grade 9)

VEINS Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

NEVER

101

Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

SLEEP Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

BLIND Oliver Jahn (Grade 12) DESTINY Oliver Jahn (Grade 12)

102

UNSPOKEN Oliver Jahn (Grade 12) 41

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

LOW E R M Y P P O E T RY

DEATH MAIA LAITINEN GRADE 8

Or living while hating oneself, one’s environment, one’s life Could it be easier to just die? End the suffering, move on In ending the suffering for one, the suffering starts in another Friends, worrying, trying, failing, grieving, suffering, dying The cycle goes on and on Unfaltering It is my duty to save them To stop this cycle, to make them understand Their friends care, and grieve And worry, everyday Wonder, if they will see them tomorrow Hoping they last another day against death But how can I do this If they are so fixed, so sure, so depressed And others say it is just for attention But why does this happen Why do they feel this way That life sucks, so life should end I must find a way To help them overcome This feeling, this life, Without them ending it

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LOW E R M Y P P O E T RY

NORMAL MIKKI BISTRANSKY GRADE 8

What does it mean to be “normal”? Why has this ideology that society has forced upon us, been drilled into people’s own identity. The modern population, changing to match the social “norm” . But what does it means to be “normal”? Is it our physical appearance. Or our mental stability. Is it how you connect and act like every other person is this world? But when someone isn’t “normal”. They are abandoned by those around them. Discarded. Shunned. Called Names, Freak. Weirdo. Crackpot. Everyone believes they’re a critic. And all they’re giving are bad reviews. Secretly they are also freaks.’ Weirdos, Crackpots. Everyone is. And no one fits to this ideal social norm. And no one is really who society thinks they are. Because everyone lives behind a golden mask of lies. And reveal their true self, when no one is watching. But I should not hide my true self. So I deserted my golden mask long ago Because a lie can not hide my mentality. But why would I want to hide what I have. And try to be “normal” Normal doesn’t exist.

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

LOW E R M Y P P O E T RY

INTERNAL MONOLOGUE ANDREW SPENCER GRADE 8

Why are we here? Why have people been suddenly plotted down to Earth for wretched industry? What purpose do we serve? All we are is dust in the wind, being moved by the storm, place to place. We are the lab rats of nature, we serve a purpose and then are left die in the cold. People move around place to place, but in the end, there is no place that let’s us escape death We will all die the same, with a numb feeling in our fingers, & memories from our past. If we all die the same, why should we continue on with our lives? Hope. The lie that everything will eventually work out. The thing that makes idiots blind, and geniuses stupid. False hope is the reason there is war, conflict & violence. People believe there will be change, but they don’t make the change People are too afraid to be independent and act on issues alone They just hide in the shadow and pray for the violent storm of war to pass them But yet, people still go on hoping. Maybe that is why we are here To hope and to join together to believe in one single thing Perhaps God. Maybe we exist for the sole purpose of believing in something and once we stop, we’re gone Like a rainy storm that passes over our heads. One thing is for certain. Hope is dying Soon we will all lose hope and give in. We will stop running and just stop. Like an old grandfather clock ticks for the last time But what happens next? Where do we go? Perhaps we go to heaven, with our families and friends by our side Or perhaps we just turn into air, floating around in our atmosphere forever But the real question lies in nature What course will it take? Will we live on Earth for trillions of years to come and keep on evolving? Or will we be burnt by 5,778 Kelvin of the sun’s heat? Who knows? All we will do is sit and wait for our inevitable death Be it by war, plague or the heat of the Sun. All we can do is sit, and wait.

T H E A D D A M S FA M I LY, M U S I C A L , 2 0 1 6 , D I R E C T E D B Y S I M O N F E R R Y

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LOW E R M Y P P R O S E

BICYCLE MAIA LAITINEN GRADE 8

“No, I don’t waaaaaaant to,” I whined, trying to get my Dad to put my training wheels back on. I was afraid to go without training wheels, because I knew that I was going to fall. Didn’t he get it? “But Abby rides without training wheels, she learned a couple of days ago, and she loves it,” my dad said, as Abby smiled at me, trying to make me understand that it was fun. I scowled. Abby, her dad, and her little sister Gracie were there, as well as my little brother, Liam, and my dad. Gracie and Liam still had training wheels, and Abby was riding around, showing off that she could ride without training wheels. She was being MEAN!!! “But I will fall and get hurt,” I argued. “You have a helmet, elbow pads, and knee pads. You’ll be fine,” my dad answered. “But, Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.” “Stop being so stubborn. I will hold your bike as you get going, and then you will be able to do it.” I wanted to do it so that I could be better than Abby and Gracie and Liam, but I knew that I was going to fall, and I didn’t want to cry in front of my best friend. I sighed, but I knew that I had to get on the bicycle. I slowly got up, dragging my feet and making a fuss, but I finally got on the bike. My feet could barely touch the ground, but I didn’t want to seem like a crybaby or picky in front of my friend. My dad started pushing me from the back, until I had my feet on the pedals, and started pedalling slowly, but surely. The bike kept wobbling from side to side and it was really unsteady. I was thinking, “Ok, pedal, pedal, slowly, feet,” as I lost a bit of balance and almost fell, but put my feet down in time. I started up again, my dad pushing me until I had enough speed, but I would put my feet down again, afraid to go too fast, because I could fall. My best friend kept going up the path and back, riding circles around me. 46

“Abby, how do you do it? How do you keep balance?” “I just move my wheel from side to side, when I start to go off balance,” “Exactly, and the faster you go, the more balance and the straighter the bicycle will be”, added her dad. “Ok, I guess I will try again.” “That’s the right attitude!!” My dad was happy that I wanted to try again, because I didn’t want to earlier. I got back on, and my dad started pushing me, holding on to the back of my seat and one handlebar, to steady me as I got going. My elbows and knees were stiff from my knee and elbow pads, but I started pedalling, and went a bit faster. Unsteadily, I tried to move my wheels from side to side, to try and keep my balance. I kept going and going. I WAS DOING IT!!! I WAS RIDING A BICYCLE!!! But it was a proper bicycle without training wheels. “YAY,” I screamed, and was joined by Abby. “That’s great, keep it going,” said my dad. Liam and Gracie were chasing each other around, Gracie on her tricycle and Liam on his bike (with training wheels of course). Liam stopped and noticed that I was riding, and pedalled to catch up to me. “Ok, Lea, there is a corner coming up, be careful. Turn your wheel just as you would, but be careful not to go too close to the wall,” my dad gave me instructions. I started riding a bit wider, as I could, slowly moving the wheel to the side, getting ready for the turn. Then, my hands slipped, and I turned too sharply, crashing into the wall, but keeping going. I stopped, and blinked away tears. Everyone came over to see if I was hurt, but I didn’t have any scratches, thanks to the elbow and knee pads. Now I looked like a real biker, with scratched up elbow and knee pads. “Do you want to keep going?” asked my dad. Abby looked at me with pleading eyes, showing how she really wanted to

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keep going. I nodded, and got back on the bicycle. My dad started pushing me again, so that I could start. I started pedalling faster, keeping up with Abby. Gracie and Liam tried to pedal to keep up with us. “Wow,” I thought. “This is actually bike riding. It’s really fun.” Just then, I hit a speedbump, too lost in my thought to pay attention to the road in front of me. I hit it and went flying. “Oh no,” I thought. “This is going to hurt, badly. Why did I ever come out to bike?” I hit the ground, and felt pain in my legs and my hands. I started crying, I couldn’t help it. Why did this have to happen to me? I didn’t want to get on a bike ever again in my life. My dad came over, and brought some band-aids. He quickly put one on my hand, where I had scraped it, and the side of my leg. He told me that I was going to have a couple of bruises, but I would be ok. I sat down on a nearby bench for a while. Abby came and joined me. I kept crying for a while, but eventually stopped. She asked me if I wanted to get back on the bike, and I nodded, trying to be nice to her, because she was nice to me. I nervously got back on my bike, and my dad started me off. I started riding slowly, and got faster and faster. We kept riding, back and forth, and I made sure to pay attention to the speedbumps. Soon enough, it was time to go home, and I didn’t want to go. “But Daaaaaaaaaaddd, can’t we bike a bit longer?” He smiled at the whining, because it had been quite the opposite at the beginning of the day. “Another day,” He said, “Then we can teach you how to start on your own.” “Okaaaayyyy I guess,” I said, and got into the car. I couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of going faster and faster, with the wind in my hair, as I fell asleep on the ride home.

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

LOW E R M Y P P R O S E

FIRST TIME BOGDANA BULAKH GRADE 8

I opened my eyes. The dark became light. I saw bright white snow outside the window; it was so shiny that I had to squint. The whole garden was covered with a thin layer of snow, it reminded me of the fairy tales my mom read to me. My mom always tells interesting stories, so that I see good dreams. I sat down on the window sill, thinking about tomorrow, I was so excited. Tomorrow I will prove to my parents that I can ski as good as they can. “Good morning sweetheart, it’s time for breakfast,” my mommy said suddenly. I dressed and went downstairs. Right next to the stairs there was a huge shelf with all the gold medals my mommy and daddy received, for skiing; I was always so proud of them. “I want to be like my parents,” I thought, “and I want them to be proud of me. I will learn how to ski.” Then I continued walking airily. Next morning, my daddy woke me up. It was still dark outside, the sun hadn’t woken up yet. We sat in our car and our trip began. In a few hours we arrived on a mountain. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to start practising. My mom noticed that she could always tell what I feel, maybe she was a fairy. “Hey sweetie, maybe you want to go skiing right now?” She took my hand and skiing equipment, without my answer. We went to the mountains. As we were rising up in the lift the ground was going further and further away. My mommy and I were so far away from the ground. Frightening thoughts came to my mind: “What if we fall? I don’t want to fall!” I snuggled against my mommy, she would protect me. Finally, we were on the mountain, my feet touched the ground. I knew I would be able to ski until the very last second. All the frightening thoughts about failing and disappointing my parents visited my little head. I could go no further. I sat down on the cold snow, everything inside tightened. “What is wrong? Why are you sitting on the cold snow? Is everything alright?” mommy asked. “Nothing, it’s just I have a headache. Can we go tomorrow?” I replied. “Oh yes, of course.” My mommy and I went back to the hotel. I was so upset. I wanted to be brave 48

like my mommy and daddy. Tomorrow, I will do it. Next morning I was awake before my parents, so I dressed up in my fancy pink ski costume and woke them up. “Good morning,” I said. “Good morning, Yeva,” my daddy replied and then laughed kindly. “Can’t you wait to go to the mountains?” “Yes, hihihi,” I said, “Let’s go then,” was the last thing I heard before running downstairs as fast as I could. That day my father went with me to the mountains. The fear of disappointing my parent came back as soon as we were on the mountains, that were covered with beautiful snow, I loved the first second I was born. “Are you ready to learn?” my daddy asked. “Yes!” I lied. “Then the easiest way of riding is almost crossing your skies!” I threw all the bad thoughts away… and…I was riding. “YES, I did it,” I thought... But suddenly, my body stopped listening… I fell, and tears filled my eyes. Daddy rode to me, “What happened? Are you alright?” “Yes, I’m fine.” “Why are you crying, then?” my father wondered. “I wanted to ride as good as you and mom can but I can’t. I disappointed you two.” “Of course you didn’t, you did a much better job than I did at your age.” “Really?” I asked with hope. “Yes,” my father replied and started his story. “I was 5 years old, just like you, and my mom decided that I was old enough to ski. But when I arrived on the mountain I couldn’t move. My body wasn’t listening, so I didn’t even ride, I refused. Can you only imagine? And my mother was so embarrassed that she just left me there. I was so sad and small that without even thinking I took my skis off and went down the mountain in normal boots. Next year, my parents left me at home and I only first rode at the age of 7. Yeva, you rode at the age of 5. You are even better than me!” After this story I was confident about myself and knew that daddy would support me; he is proud of me. I stood up and rode down the hill, as I was born to do. My mom woke up later and waited for me and dad. She saw how I did my first ride, and I saw happiness in her dark brown eyes. This was all I needed; this and a doll.

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LOW E R M Y P P R O S E

THE FIASCO NADIA LYNN GRADE 8

The doctor told me it would heal in three weeks time. I hope so. The damage was nasty: a broken leg and a twisted wrist. To be honest, that was my fault, but I will not admit it to my mom. Because it was she who made me go skiing in the first place and it was she who said that I didn’t need an instructor to help me, because skiing is so easy. And it was she who pointed at those little children skiing, making me feel so very bad about myself and how cowardly I am. A couple of months ago we had an agreement with my mother. If I passed all my tests, then for the family summer vacation, I could choose where we could go. If I got a grade below a B, then she would choose the destination and the activities we would do there. And I loved that idea: I really wanted to go to Disneyworld, since I had just turned eleven years old and it had been my dream to go there since I was eight. I tried my hardest on all of those tests, but I got a C for Math. And for the rest of the summer vacation my family, consisting of my seven year old sister, me and my parents, were going to the Alps. My mom thought that it was cool there and that we were going to enjoy skiing. It never has actually occurred to me that I hate it. I have never tried it really; I’ve seen movies with people skiing, I’ve read about it and I knew the basics of it. How hard could it be, really? You just go down and when you need to stop, you brake. Easy, right? So when we arrived, the first thing we did was prepare to ski. My mom thought that I didn’t need an instructor. As it later appeared, I did need one. “Honey,” my mother said, “you just have to go to the bottom, and break occasionally to slow down. It’s easy, see,” and she pointed at a group of small children, including my little sister, doing exactly what I wanted to do least right now - skiing. “Try it. I know you have it in you,” she said. I had no choice - I had to ski down ‘gradually shooting and sliding down on steep slopes’ covered with that slippery snow. The pressure was so intense that I knew I had to do it because I would look lame and cowardly in front of everybody there: adults, kids and worst of all - my dad. I took a deep breath and followed my instinct, hoping for the best. It was the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. And, to be honest, I have done a lot of bad things in my life and made a bunch of rash decisions that I regretted later, so this says a lot.

When I was going down, the snow was flying into my eyes, my vision was blurry and I couldn’t see the slope, not to mention other people. In these moments, I usually just close my eyes and everything goes black, since it is too intense to take in all at once. I actually thought that I’ve made it successfully to the bottom, which was only one hundred metres down, when I felt something slip off my left foot. That something that slipped off - it was my ski. I was dragging my foot on the snow, while rushing down a steep slope. I had absolutely no control of what I was doing or where I was going, since one of my skis had detached from my foot and it was sliding down with very high speed behind me. My foot was slowing me down, and it hurt because it was positioned at a weird angle. I thought I should just carefully fall down before I tripped on anything, or bumped into anyone. Later though, I realised that there was no way of carefully falling down. I tried leaning to my left and smashed into the wall so hard, that I almost could hear my leg breaking. My ski went down like a flashing bolt and somebody in front of me tripped on it. I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back, covered in snow and holding my breath not to scream since my right arm, the one that took the hit, and my left foot, the one that dragged behind me, hurt so much. Right then, any normal person would be very upset, scared and in shock but I was happy, since I was lying at the bottom of the slope. I had made it to the bottom. After, of course, I got dragged into the hospital and got taken care of and swallowed about a million painkillers. My parents gave me another lecture about what it meant to be responsible and it seemed that it would never end, but I could sense a note of guilt in their voices. My dad said that I did a good job, considering it was my very first time. Making my dad proud was all I really needed. I wouldn’t be able to walk normally for the next three weeks, but it was all worth it. My parents told me they would never drag me skiing anymore. However, every winter I asked my parents to go skiing with me, so I could practice. Three years later, in spite of all of my fear, I went to a skiing competition and I won. I realised one thing. It is not about being fearless, it is acting in spite of your fear, breaking free from it and trying again and again until you can do it. 49

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LOW E R M Y P P R O S E

THE MASSACRE SENA CINAR GRADE 8

Marie was sat on the couch inside of the massive house, innocently knitting a new scarf for herself on her own birthday. She sighed as she watched Gone with the Wind on the black and white television. It was a rather chilly night after a hot summer day. “Oh, look at you,” said Diletta as she walked into the room, waddling with a big bowl of soup in her hands. Diletta was a fairly big woman who often used her big stomach as a table for her food whenever she sat down. “A mature young lady,” she said smiling. Another shift was over at the nursery and the young Marie and her advisor Diletta decided to have an odd celebration for Marie’s birthday. “I’ve been wondering when they’re going to make coloured television,” Marie said with a hint of dismay in her rather highpitched voice. Diletta put her head up for a moment, then snatched the remote control from beside Marie. “Bastards, dunno how to,” said Diletta, scrunching her nose up. Diletta was an oddly pessimistic and snarky woman whilst alone with Marie. Although, many of the kids that came to the nursery adored her. It wasn’t easy being a rather big woman in her late thirties in the year 1948. “Do you reckon the kids; our kids in the nursery, I mean, will be successful? You know, all grown up in university?” asked Marie curiously. She changed into a more comfortable position on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs and her barely finished scarf set neatly next to her. Diletta leaned forward, putting her bowl on the table and by the time she was sat back on the couch, there were beads of sweat covering her forehead. 50

“They’re smart kids-” One single knock on the door interrupted Diletta from her thoughts. She scurried, trying to get to her feet as fast as possible. Marie put a hand on her shoulder, the corners of her mouth curling up to a sweet smile. “That’s fine. I’ve got it,” she said and padded towards the big wooden door. She felt quite nostalgic as she remembered the days she was a young girl. She’d cry every time the doorbell would ring. Luckily, it was broken by then. Once she was close enough to the door, she went on her tiptoes and peeked through the peephole. At the other side of the door stood an old man, with a bleeding temple. He looked hurt. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he spoke in a raspy voice. “I’m hurt and in need of some help,” he said, putting two fingers on his temple, as if to prove that he is injured. Marie felt hesitant, but unlocked the door nevertheless. She put her hand around the massive door handle and swung the door open, her toes curling in anxiety. “Please, come in,” she said hurriedly and dragged the old man to the kitchen by his hand. The floor squeaked as she pulled a chair out from underneath the table. The man clumsily sat down, with his fingers still on his bleeding temple. Marie ran around the kitchen, taking a wet cloth, a bandaid and some antibacterial gel. Kneeling down in front of the stranger, she smiled as she reached in and patted the bleeding spot with the cloth. The man winced a bit too much, almost exaggerating. Marie quickly removed her hand, her eyes widening. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. The man coughed. Marie then put

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the antibacterial gel on the cloth and leaned in again. “This might sting a little,” she smiled as she patted that same place. Oddly, the man didn’t wince this time. After a short time, Marie’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I’m sorry sir,” she said slowly, standing back up to her feet. “I’ve cleaned all of the blood, but…” she paused. The man was looking at her with a sinister smirk. “But I can’t seem to find the source of the bleeding.” Right after she finished her sentence, Diletta thumped into the kitchen. A millisecond later, a flying glass cup came in contact with her head and she fell onto the ground. Marie quickly turned around to the man with shaking hands. His sinister smirk was still carved on his blotchy face. The man was quick to hit the back of Marie’s neck with a rock he brought up from his pocket. Marie lost her breath and her vision went jet black. Her knees felt like they were tied together. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell onto the ground with a loud thump. Once Marie woke up, she instantly started feeling the heavy pounding in her head and all over her body. She scrunched up her eyebrows and tried to open her mouth to scream for help, but the bloody cloth from before was shoved in her mouth, blocking any type of noise. She was laying on her stomach, with her hands tied behind on her lower back. Her feet were tied with her hands. Once she was in her right state of mind, she saw the tall man sitting on the couch across. “I hate young nurses,” he spat and stood up. Marie got confused for a second, but once she saw the white nurse uniform on her, she understood. Her eyes started watering and her hands ached. As soon as the man took the cloth out

of her mouth, Marie started screaming and sobbing for help. Her eyes were like waterfalls. The man laughed and kneeled down next to her. “No one’s gonna hear you, girl,” he spoke as he stroked her hair. “Don’t waste your breath.” He slapped her cheek. Marie screamed again and as the man went up the stairs, her screams started fading away. He entered the bathroom, where Diletta laid unconscious in the pink water. “Good,” the man said to himself. He pushed Diletta’s head further down into the freezing water, until her whole body was lost in the foggy liquid. The man then started going back down the stairs where Marie’s screams were momentarily paused. “Well then,” the man chuckled and sat back down on the couch across from Marie. Marie was silently praying to herself, with tears still going down her cheeks. “My one true lord, please have mercy on me, amen,” she whispered to herself, over and over again. The man’s pulse started speeding up and his blood started boiling. “Jesus is not gonna help you,” he said and stood up fast, stomping one of his feet on the ground. He ran up to a cross sign and picked it up, spat on it, and threw it on the ground. He then slowed down his pace. He slowly walked behind Marie and took his knife out of his pocket. All of a sudden, Marie felt a sharp stab on her back. She let out a bloodcurdling scream and she felt like she was going to puke her tonsils out. The man stabbed her in the back, over and over again, until there was blood pouring out of Marie’s mouth and she lay unconscious with her eyes wide open. The man smiled to himself and kneeled down in front of Marie. “I told you Jesus won’t help you,” he laughed. 51

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A WAR STORY LARA ARENCIBIA PENDER GRADE 8

It happened on the last day of the summer holidays in September of 2008. I lived in Georgia back then, Georgia the country. 2008 was the year Russia declared war on Georgia. It was a year of terror. My friend told me this story of what happened to her and her family then, and it is possibly one of the most horrific and at the same time unbelievable stories I have and will ever hear from a person I know. This is what she told me. “I was only eight, so I wasn’t entirely aware of what was going on, but my parents were on edge and nervous all the time. The problem was that Georgia is a tiny country, and in no way could it have stood up to a military giant like Russia. Although Russia could have wiped Georgia off the map, they didn’t. In fact, they only invaded the midwestern part. Of course, everything there was obliterated, but the casualties could have been much higher. Anyway, back to my story. We were driving back from Batumi, a resort city on the Black Sea, to Tbilisi, the capital. We had school the very next day, so we were kind of in a rush to get back. My dad had carefully planned out the route so as to avoid any of the fighting. The beginning of the trip started out badly. Maybe that’s why the rest was so terrible as well. We missed the alarm in the morning, and overslept by three whole hours. When my parents woke me up, we had to stuff everything into our suitcases within the next half hour, otherwise we would have to pay for another whole day in the hotel. We made it, but just barely.” ***

“Wow,” I said. “That sounds pretty stressful.” “Yeah it was.” she admitted. The she continued with her story. ***

“So, at this point we were behind schedule. My parents had started fighting in the hotel about why we missed the alarm, and whose fault it was. So as we drove the first forty miles my dad was fuming. We stopped for lunch about three hours into the trip because my brother started crying and screaming. He always gets in a bad mood when he’s hungry. So we stop at a restaurant by the side of the road. The food won’t be great, but as long as it fills, it should be fine. So at this point, my father (who has a very short temper), was obviously very, very annoyed. The last straw was that the food took two hours to be served. I honestly thought that my dad was going to blow. But he didn’t, and he just sat there getting redder by the minute. Once we got the food we polished it off in thirty minutes flat and we were on the road again.”

*** I started laughing. Georgian food takes a long time to prepare, but two hours? “It’s not funny!” she exclaimed. “We were really hungry.” I stopped laughing. “Ok, ok, finish your story.” *** “So when my dad gets mad he gets distracted, right? So we drove on, and then suddenly he curses and veers over to the side of the road. It turns out he didn’t go the right way, and if he turns back now, there’s no way we’ll make it back before midnight. So my mother looks at the map and points out that there hadn’t been any fighting reported near this road yet. This is good news, and my dad’s brow clears. We drive back onto the road and get driving along at a good pace. We’re about two hours from Tbilisi when it gets really dark. My dad turns on the headlights and drives a little slower. About ten minutes later

my little brother notices something in the distance, heading towards us at a good speed. It looked a little like flame, and I would have said that’s what it was if it hadn’t been moving. My mother notices and tells my dad to stop. The fear in her voice scares me and my brother, and we start to cry. Mom shushes us and we sit there in the car, with the lights off and in total silence, with tears streaming down our cheeks. It was like in Jurassic Park. Terrifying. So anyway, we’re sitting there, and this orange flame thing is coming towards us. When it’s within like two hundred metres of us, we realise it’s a tank, on fire. My mom screams as it hurtles past us, like fifty metres away. At the side of the road, there’s a huge trench for when it rains. The tank hits the trench and flips over, still on fire. It’s a Georgian tank. My dad’s military training kicks in, and he tries to get out of the car, but my mom stops him, and tells him to drive the hell away. He hesitates, but eventually shuts the door again and drives away. We reached Tbilisi an hour later, and we’ve never talked about that ever again. I think my dad is secretly mad at my mom for not letting him help them. Sometimes I wonder though, if my dad could have saved them. Maybe then they wouldn’t be dead.”

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*** After that, I just sat there in silence for a little. The idea was too ludicrous to contemplate. She took my silence for disbelief. “It’s true, I’m not lying.” she said indignantly. “No, I believe you, it’s just… wow.” I replied. “That it actually happened to you, is like...” “Yeah, well, it’s over now, and I didn’t get hurt, so why worry?” she said. After that we kind of just dropped the subject. I don’t know if she ever told anyone else, but it’s incredible. That a friend of mine basically watched two people burn to death inside a tank in front of her is just amazing, but it is true, and it is a story I will never, ever forget. 53

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MY FIRST CEESA TOURNAMENT EMILY CAIRNS GRADE 8

It was a Thursday when I left for CEESA in 5th grade on the 1st November 2012. I was filled with excitement, nerves, adrenaline and didn’t know what to expect. It was the first time I was going to be away from my family for more than a sleepover and I was rooming with an 8th grader, named Kate who I barely knew. I was already packed three days before we left and made sure I had everything with me. As I made my way to school, I started to become more and more nervous. I went through the gate of school and made my way to the bus where my coach, Mr.Depooter, was waiting. “Emily, are you sure you are okay about rooming with Kate?” he asked me. To be honest, I wasn’t, but I was too scared to say anything so I answered with a simple, “Yeah, I’m fine.” I made my way to the back of the bus and sat down. We arrived at Borispol airport, collected our suitcases from the bus, and headed towards the check-in desk. That day we were flying to Belgrade and all I could think about was the family hosting us and if they were going to be nice and my first game. We passed through passport control and made our way to the gate. On our way, we stopped off at a little cafe and got some snacks and something to drink. Forty minutes passed and our plane started to board. Once on the plane I was able to sit next to Sina and Hailey who I felt comfortable with as I had known them since 4th grade. When we eventually landed in Belgrade, we made our way through passport control, collected our suitcases and headed to the bus which would drop us off at our host families’ houses. The first to leave the bus was Mr. Depooter and Ms. Irina who were staying at the Holiday Inn Hotel. Each pair of roommates started leaving the bus until there was only Alice, Mante, Kate and I left. I was surrounded by 8th graders and started to feel intimidated. My heart thumped in my chest as 54

the bus driver said, “Emily and Kate.” I was nervous to meet my host but we made our way out of the bus and collected our suitcases where we were met by our host mother. “Hello, ladies.” She shook my hand and I said a quiet, “Nice to meet you.” We made our way to the house where we met her two daughters and dog. They were a Finnish family and one of her daughters who was in 6th grade was playing in the CEESA competition and the other was an 8th grader. For dinner we ate fish, I ate it so quickly I couldn’t remember what it tasted like. When we started talking about football and the competition tomorrow I started to feel more relaxed. My hands were shaking I was so petrified. After we finished dinner I asked if I could be excused to use the bathroom. I made my way down the steps into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I started to cry a little bit, I was confused about my emotions. I was missing my mum especially but also was excited to play a sport that I love. I wiped my tears away with a towel and washed my face. Kate and I made our way up to our room where we unpacked our clothes and got ready for the tournament the following day. The eldest daughter who was in 8th grade came upstairs to talk to us. She made me feel comfortable and I quickly bonded with her. It was nearly nine o’clock and I was starting to feel a bit tired. I made sure I called my mum to let her know how I was doing. Suddenly I heard our host mother’s kind voice say, “Hello girls, just letting you know it’s nine, so if you want to have showers, now is the best time.” I headed into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. As I stepped into the shower I felt the warmth of the hot water wash my stress and tension away. It was the following morning, the sky was gloomy and our host mother told us it was going to be cold and to dress warmly. I

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quickly dressed in my football kit and made sure I packed my football boots. I cautiously made my way downstairs where breakfast was waiting. There was cereal, toast and meat. I was starving and I couldn’t wait to eat. We finished eating breakfast, Kate and I didn’t talk much, I was too scared to embarrass myself in front of her. Soon it was time to leave, the bus was waiting outside of the house where we were soon to be reunited with our coaches and other team mates. I made my way to see Sina and Hailey who were towards the back of the bus. Mr. Depooter pulled me aside, “How was your first night, how was Kate?” “They’re really nice, and yeah I’m okay,” I replied cheerily. I continued to make my way to the back of the bus and settled for the twenty minute long bus ride to the school. When we arrived at the school, we made our way to the football pitch where we saw two other teams already playing. Our game was going to start after that game finished, so we made sure we had our shoes and uniforms on. Ten minutes later and it was time to warm up. We started by doing two laps around the pitch and then went into stretching. I couldn’t wait to play our first game, I was in the starting lineup and was so proud. I was playing in defence, a position I had little experience of. Our first game was against the Macedonian

team, Nova. The whistle blew and we started to play. Fortunately, we won the match and eagerly made our way to the next pitch where we were soon going to be playing Bulgaria’s A team. We had around thirty minutes break and were ready for our next match. I became focused as soon as I stepped onto the pitch and cleared my mind of everything else apart from winning and playing my best. As the second half started we got a free kick after Lea was fouled just outside the penalty box. I was shocked to hear Mr. Depooter shout, “Emily, take it!” I felt so honoured to be asked particularly because I was the youngest player on the team. My heart started beating fast, we were up by 2-0 but wanted to make it 3-0. I took a slow deep breath in and out. I ran up to the ball and hit it with everything I had. It all seemed to be in slow motion, the ball made it into the back of the net. I screamed with happiness and joy as my teammates came to celebrate with me. It was one of the proudest moments of my life and I will never forget it. At that moment I knew that this was what I wanted to do in the future and for as long as I could. Since that first experience in 5th grade I am still nervous but I know that I’m going to be okay. I am in 8th grade now and am still passionate about playing football and love leaving for the tournaments. 55

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THE MOUNTAIN OF EGGS AND HEAT BINYAM AREGAI GRADE 8

As I entered the cave a peculiar odour reached my nose, similar to rotten eggs. Too late I realized what it was, the floor being propelled upwards, a yellow gas bursting up from below, flinging me backwards and onto the floor. My landing head inches away from a sharp outcrop of rock, which if I had found, would have likely killed me. Hopefully quickly from slicing through my skull, or if I was unfortunate, impaling me through the chest, leaving me to slowly die in the following hours. I jumped to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my person, exhilarated by the near encounter with death’s sweet kiss. There is no other feeling like it and it is the reason I love this job. Not the fame or fortune, but for the thrill, it’s why I’m still doing it. I have enough to live like a king but I can’t stop, and likely won’t until my death. I continued forward and examined the chasm that had emerged in front of me to jump. It took me a while to find a solution to this delay and, if it worked, would prove quite spectacular. Time to try out my newest invention. The device consisted of two metal wings, which would be powered by the blood of the griffin, these would lift me up and allow me to soar above the chasm…if they worked. If not I would plummet around - I looked down and couldn’t see the bottom of the gaping hole which had just formed - many, many feet to my death. I just hoped there was enough of this blood. Attaching the wings to my arms I approached the edge of the drop, looked down one more time, took 10 large strides backwards, ran up, and jumped into the abyss. 56

For a moment I was suspended, like all of time froze, and I was able to witness the true beauty of my surroundings, with light and heat emitting from below, and the dark obsidian of the walls glistened in their peculiar way, absorbing the light, rather than reflecting it. Then the moment passed, time commenced and I fell incredibly quickly. Rushing downwards, head first, attempting to reach the bottom of this wonder of nature, but when the heat started to become unbearable I realized my mistake; I would survive with a few burns, the griffin’s blood would not. First, it would begin to sizzle. I thought I could hear this but the air was too loud for me to be sure. Frantically, I extended my arms and flapped them furiously, the griffin blood making the whole system lighter through its mystical properties. This along with the updraft of heat allowed me to make it a metre from the top, before I was forced to throw down my wingsuit and cast my grapple, which I had previously drawn from my belt, upwards, praying it would catch. Then I was falling, even faster than before, but only for a brief few seconds before the grapple caught. I jerked upwards and passed out as my beautiful creation exploded beneath me. I returned to consciousness a few minutes later, groggy and confused, before glancing around and remembering my predicament. The fact that I was hanging from a rope above a hole without a bottom was not what bothered me, however; I had faith in my grapple, but the loss of the wingsuit upset me. It would take a while to collect the materials to create another, and longer still to remake the damn thing. ‘Damn,

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griffin blood,’ I said aloud. There was no one there so I was free to speak, ‘Why does it have to explode when heated?’ I climbed upwards with a sense melancholy but the site of what awaited me 100 metres down the tunnel and around a corner quickly drew a smile on my face. I was there. The center of the mountain that spit fire. The dragon’s den.

Five Weeks Earlier... It had been a crisp January morning when I was approached to undergo the biggest job of my career. I was to enter the mountain that spit fire, and retrieve the fabled pair of dragon eggs that were said to lie there, waiting for the next riders to be born, before they hatched and soared the skies once again as in tales of old. I was approached outside my gate, a stunted dwarf, or a dwarf dwarf as they are often called, with the offer. Five thousand credits in precious stones, with a 25% advance. I’d never been offered such a sum in my life. Even if the eggs were not there, the 25% was still more than I had ever been offered before and the thought of that money persuaded me utterly; the danger was worth it. Through the ‘dwarf dwarf’ I met one of a normal stature, through him an elf, through him a man, and then finally to a giant with whom I finalized the deal, managing to get a 17.6% increase on the original payment. The creature that was employing me, for it was none I had met, had a sick sense of humour, me raising up the ladder, as his employees rose in height. I noted this, but did not care, and started to prepare for the job, compiling a list of what I thought I might need. Once all was gathered I set out. Having purchased an eagle for the journey, I mounted the beast and my stomach twisted. Shivering excitedly at the thought of what 5880 credits would buy me. I reached the mountain by nightfall, was forced to circle it for another hour until we noticed an outcrop with a cave leading inwardly. When I landed I noticed a griffin lying outside, with a small wound on its side, likely caused by a needle. Must have been the beast of some poor other bounty hunter who had ventured inwards and never seen the sun again. I would not do the same. After an hour of trekking through the dark damp, frankly disgusting passage, bypassing countless obstacles and traps, I came upon a large gap in the ground in front of me, extending downwards as far as the eye can see. When examining it I noticed a peculiar, sulphuric odour. Luckily, the steed I had chosen was of a small stature and therefore had joined me in

the tunnel, so I could ride it across the otherwise impassible chasm. ‘Perhaps this is where the last adventurer faltered,’ I thought to myself. Fell to his death, with who knows how much time of freefall. Once across the gap it was a short journey to my goal, with a short 100m, and a ninety degree right turn before I reached my destination. A smile was summoned to my face as I faced the great entrance, statues of the beasts whose eggs I had been sent to were engraved into the stone, with precious jewels embedded where their eyes would have been. In the usual circumstances, I would have acquired these gems, but they would likely set off another trap, the first three near death brushes when trying to procure things in this tunnel had made me wary. At least they indicted this place actually existed and by the time I’d reached this point I was sure the eggs awaited me. The chamber I entered was large, a dome with a ceiling as far up as the hole I had just crossed. The walls were stone, but unlike the rest of the passageway polished slick and smooth, legend says from the flame of the dragons who had last resided there. In the centre an obsidian pillar rose from the floor, impossibly etched into the shape of a dragon. Some profit might be made from this but I could not think how. It did not matter, for it was the beast’s gaping jaws that would hold the true treasure, I approached the statue, examined the stone dragon’s mouth and found... nothing!

*** Once I had entered the chamber I was awed by it’s beauty, a dome of massive proportions, the stones as smooth as those you would find in a rich man’s house, but nothing could compare with what was centred in that room. The obsidian dragon: I had heard tales of this great wonder, yet none fully captured its escence. The beast was etched into the stone, through some mystical process that has become lost to us for many generations. The level of detail to be be found on the beast was extraordinary, with separate claws and wings as thin as tempered steel. Amazingly, however, what awaited me in the beast’s jaw surpassed even what they were held in. The eggs were real and worth far more than what I had been offered. I would keep them but a deal’s a deal. I had to honour the contract I made with my employer. They were of different colours, one red the other green, both pulsating with an eerie glow, managing to be both dark and light. The colours swirling around their surface, the tones changing with a second’s 57

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passing. If given the time I would have stayed there far longer, simply absorbing their magnificence in case this was the last opportunity I received. Yet then the moment was broken as I heard footsteps approaching the entrance. Quickly, I grabbed the eggs, inserted them in a sack and sprinted to the far side of the cave. When the man (for a man he was and not some other creature) entered I was able to examine him using my looking glass, an invention I am most proud of. He was slim, tall and tanned. All signs of an active life. Though not particularly imposing I sensed this a man not to be crossed, and when I examined his eyes, finding a greedy, cruel glint, my suspicions were affirmed. This was not a good man. A cold, angry, wealth loving individual. With no love of life or what beauty it could hold. When he approached the carved pillar even he, however, was momentarily awed, and I utilized this to creep around the edge of the cave, making sure to keep silent. He soon returned to full alertness but the sight that awaited him inside the dragon’s gaping jaw was what allowed me to circle around and dash out the exit. For the sight that awaited him was of course nothing: the eggs he had been tasked to obtain, previously taken by me. The sight of where his target obviously should have been, the objects that would have made his life one of wealth and riches, no longer there. Hopefully, the shock of the absence of his prize would shock him enough to halt me to make a full escape. However, the eagle that awaited me outside the entrance soon halted my plans, letting out a screech as I raced by it, snapping its master back to reality and the sight of me escaping with his prize.

*** It took a while for me to return to reality with full concentration; the confusion, bewilderment and then finally rage that had taken over my person fully shut down my consciousness. If not for my eagle’s screech my targets could have escaped completely, utilizing the man whose brown shirt tails I had just glimpsed disappearing out of the chamber. As soon as I saw this I turned and sprinted in the direction I had come, whistling while racing towards the entrance, glad I had purchased an eagle with a high level of training. The beast had positioned itself in front of me, wings extended out in preparation for flight, which it promptly did the instant I leapt on its back. Thrusting its wings downwards, propelling us to the top of the tunnel and forwards at great 58

speed, hunting down the soon to be deceased person who had taken my prize. It was a short chase, but a valiant effort on my opponent’s part, for it was the chasm I had previously crossed on the eagle’s back that halted his progress rather than my blade, or eagle’s talons. Once he reached the edge he turned and faced me, “No one has to die today my friend”. The sheer audacity of this statement struck me, rendering the room silent for a few moments. For this man, shorter and thinner than I, backed up against a never ending fall, with an eagle to aid his foe, providing thinly veiled threats! Once I had mustered the words to respond he was smiling, the first points of this conflict being awarded to him. “You are wrong my friend,” I replied, “...for the price of inconveniencing my good self, you must die, and do so in pain and agony.” He merely smiled coldly and responded, “Please do not be rash, let us not fight, rather gaze down into this wondrous abyss, and later decide matters civilly, like gentlemen.” That was too much, I drew and raised my blade and charged at my opponent in the meanwhile, the tip of my blade aimed directly at his throat. At the last second he pulled out a small knife, no more than ten centimetres in length and flicked away my blow as though swatting away a fly. “Please!” he asked again, “cease this foolishness, if it comes to your life I will gladly give you these eggs in order to see such a young one preserved.” I swung again and again, each time him matching my blows with his tiny blade, yet giving none of his own, eventually kicking me onto the ground. “Sit,” he said, this a command and not a question. “Why do you insist on combat when I offered you what you desired? Is it perhaps because you are a proud, arrogant individual? No need to answer, your type is not new to me. You may be more talented than the rest but you are the same. Know please mount your beast and begone from this cave. It is now apparent to me these eggs are not for normal men to see. The lust of them is turning you to the path of madness.” “So, what will you do with them?” I asked, the whole conversation leaving me entirely confounded. “I will return them of course, what other course of action is there to take? They are not for normal men to gaze upon or lust after. But for the triumph of making it through this tunnel I will permit you one glance. This perhaps will show you the beauty of what life has to offer and teach you to enjoy, for then only will you live happily.” And with that he aided me to my feet and revealed the eggs to me, with them doing exactly as he predicted, washing away my cruelty and greed. Opening me to the wonders of life, allowing me at last to live a good life.

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THE ROAD TO THE HANGMAN’S NOOSE BINYAM AREGAI GRADE 8

As I approached the block, the sun beating down and crowd roaring, my stomach lurched in fear and apprehension. This was odd to me, I thought I was ready, nothing holding me back, my body informing me quite clearly on my error. I took another stop, sweat dripping down the back of my neck, skin cold and tingling. Another step and I was there. On the block, my name carved in wood on the front of it: John Pettegrew. Standing, facing my ultimate demise. I saw the hangman approaching, I could run - perhaps even escape - but he was far too fast, and I far too weak. He arrived and looped the noose around my neck the following second, I could feel the bristles brushing, irritating and sharp, the sudden undesirable urge to scratch was uncontrollable. I looked out to the crowd, swore then and screamed before the rope tightened. The crowd in uproar with bloodlust as I tumbled to the ground, the world then being slowed by a greater power, and it was then at that exact moment before death, that the events that led up to this finally became clear in my mind.

*** Unlike so many others which are cold, wet and miserable, it had been a bright October morning, pleasant and bright when life ended. I had not so long previously finished my night shift at the docks before I arose, went to collect my pay and returned to find my life in ruins. It had been an especially good haul I remembered, with at least a ton of fish brought in. It had been hard work storing them, but the more fish the greater the pay. Last week only a quarter of a ton had been brought in and it had been a struggle to scrimmage enough money for food. I had been eager to return to show this impressive 60

prize to Marian, call it what you will, but she was all I lived for, I had little else. How she agreed to be mine, and me hers I never knew but, like the fool I was, gave all credit to God, as if there could be such a creature, or if there is he is cruel and sadistic at that. For who else but a monster would provide the smallest amount of fortune unto a poor soul like myself, for I am poor in both definitions of the world, and then send their world crashing down powerless to stop it? I entered the house to smell the scent of meat sizzling on the stove. I briefly wondered how Marian had been able to afford it, but the saliva moistening the top of my mouth soon banished those thoughts. I approached the table, and glanced around but could not find Marian. After a quick scan of the room I noticed a note, laying casually on her chair. It was written in her small, neat hand. I picked it up, my mood still calm, ‘she’s probably just gone out,’ I thought to myself, but when I lifted the note, read it, not once nor twice yet thrice, collapsed on the spot, the grief sending my body into unconsciousness. I emerged from my black pool of despair soon, far too soon. Yet know my grief had disappeared, a fire burning it to ash, threatening to do the same to my person if not sated. I spent the remainder of the day pondering my situation, what to do about... him? By the next morning my plan was complete, why so much time was taken I am not sure, the plan did not entail much. The others had - the ones I deemed impossible - though they would have been more satisfying. I would leave the house at the break of midnight, when the town would be plunged into shadows. Creep into the manor, and the events would take their own course from there. Thankfully, it was a dark night, the moon covered by cloud and the dark miniscule shades of pitch black. There were few folks about,

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and those who wander at this time have an unspoken law not to acknowledge each other’s presence, so the half hour walk was one unplagued by troubled. When I arrived at the manor, I noticed a sign on the front gate, a new addition to the property, reading ‘Max Pettegrew’ in large, ornate letters. Knowing the owner, they were likely gold but it was too dark to be sure. I crept round the back, careful to avoid the trip wire located on the lawn and entered through the back door, using the key located under the large stone nearby to enter. Thankfully, it was still there. I entered and found the house silent, the guards likely passed out out front. The room I found myself in was the kitchen - well, the pantry adjoining it - and I made my way out and to the staircase. The bedroom was upstairs, so I ventured upwards, careful to avoid the sixth stair which a few months previously had been squeaky. Once up I glanced around, edgy; a guard was about to bust through a door and tackle me to the ground, but the house remained silent. For a brief moment I panicked, forgetting where he slept the first room on the right or the left? Then I saw a faint glow emitting from the right room and entered, and there she was, Marian, my love, my hate. Sleeping, a babe whose innocence was not present when it should have been. I approached the bed softly, brought my hands up, grasped her neck and began to squeeze. She awoke soon after with a sudden jolt, but too late to have much breath to speak. It was inconsequential, for it was then that her eyes revealed what I should have seen all along. Her contempt, no, her hatred of me. “Why, Marian?” I asked desperately, “Why?” In her last breath she rose her hand slowly yet deliberately and pointed to the ensuite latrine, managing to croak out two syllables, “In there”. She slumped down, eyes lifeless and body limp. I could feel my eyes burning, with both sadness and self loathing, I now knew

why she had married me. I should have seen it, how couldn’t I have? For how else could a young low born maid, hope to meet the governor of our great town if not through me? Once my rage had simmered I entered the latrine and found him there, the most powerful man in town, in his most vulnerable position. “Johnny,” he said calmly, “What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?” He sounded perfectly reasonable, as if this was simply a chance meeting. Sitting there obnoxiously, as if he was in charge of the situation. “Shut up!” I hissed through clenched teeth, “For once in your perfect little goddamn life, Maxy, shut up!” As I said this I removed the revolver I carried around my waist and raised it, in perfect line with his head. “Now John, let’s not do anything we’ll regret here, alright? Just nice and easy, put down the gun and we’ll go have a nice glass of wine.” There was fear in his eyes now but his tone still calm, maintained, composed, the perfect little boy he’d always been, taking control of the situation, trying to make me be in the position of vulnerability. “What don’t you understand about shut up?” I was shaking now, my chest heaving. “How could you do this to me? I had nothing except for her, everything else was given to you!” “Now John, I don’t think that’s quite true, you got….” “When mum died who did dad call first….? You. As kids, who was the favorite…? You. You took everything else, and the one thing that was good in my life, you stole her too. Well, you’ve gone too far this time. Goodbye, brother dear.” The sentence I uttered had been soft, almost inaudible and the loud bang that followed blanketed it out completely. Once I had fired that shot my world turned black and, when I awoke, faced my death.

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FORCED CONFESSIONS IN MEXICO MAIA LAITINEN GRADE 8

In many cases in Mexico, people are arrested for a specific crime, and then tortured until they sign a paper saying that they ‘confess’ to this crime. They are then convicted and punished, with the only evidence being that ‘confession’. This type of situation isn’t uncommon, unfortunately, in Mexico. Due to the heavy drug trafficking, authorities are now using harsher methods of investigation and interrogation, in order to gain information. Some methods that they use is waterboarding, beating, sexual torture and electric shocks. There has been a 600% rise in torture from police, in the last decade (Lakhani, 2014). All levels of police have been reported to use torture, from the local level to the federal level. Many times, the people being tortured are held in secret locations, and do not get a fair trial, rather, they are judged solely on their ‘confessions’(Otawka, 2015). Although laws have been made against these practices, as well as against judges accepting forced ‘confessions’, authorities and judges still use and accept these torturous methods of obtaining information (Human Rights Watch, 2015). These cases are rarely investigated by international investigators, as well as by international standards. In 2013, the national human rights committee received 1505 complaints of torture, though it is believed to be much higher, as opposed to 219 in 2003 (Lakhani, 2014). One example of forced confessions by torture that has been highlighted by human rights activists is Yecenia Armenta Graciano. In July 2012, Yecenia Armenta Graciano, mother of two children, was driving relatives to the airport when she was pulled over by police. They drove her away in a police car, blindfolded, and accused her of the murder of her husband. Once in custody, the police tortured her brutally. In a span of 15 hours, they suffocated her, beat her, raped her, hung her upside down from her ankles, and told her that they would bring her children, rape them, and cut them into pieces. Finally, still blindfolded, she signed a ‘confession’ that said 62

that she ordered the murder of her husband. She didn’t even get to read what she was signing. She was found guilty, due to the ‘confession’, and has spent the last 3 years in prison. Medical staff from the her detention center examined her multiple times, and concluded that she had not been tortured, though when independent medical staff examined her, they concluded that she had, in fact, been tortured. (Amnesty International, 2015) The human rights that are being violated are from Articles 5, 9, 10, and 11, which state that nobody should be subject to torture, and cannot be arbitrarily arrested and detained. Also, everyone must have a “fair and public hearing, by an independent and impartial tribunal” (OHCHR, 2015), as well as must be presumed innocent until proven guilty. These rights are violated every day, by Mexican officials, when they need a ‘confession’ from someone, even if they didn’t commit the crime, at all. In conclusion, this is quite a big problem in Mexico, and there are many cases of it, every year. Though this was put in to help combat drugs, it is a serious violation of human rights, to do this to someone, no matter what they have or have not done, and whether they committed a crime or not. It is unfair, and it needs to be stopped.

Sources: Amnesty International, (2015). [online] Available at: https://www.amnesty.ie/sites/default/ files/webform/2014/11/4623_W4R_7.%20Mexico_Casecards_web.pdf [Accessed 15 Dec. 2015]. Human Rights Watch, (2015). World Report 2015: Mexico. [online] Available at: https://www. hrw.org/world-report/2015/country-chapters/mexico [Accessed 15 Dec. 2015]. Otawka, (2015). UNHRC: Torture and abuse in Mexico is “widespread” - Justice in Mexico. [online] Justice in Mexico. Available at: https://justiceinmexico.org/unhrc-torture-andabuse-in-mexico-is-widespread/ [Accessed 16 Dec. 2015]. Lakhani, N. (2015). Mexico is trying to win its war on drugs by using more torture. [online] Dailynews.com. Available at: http://www.dailynews.com/general-news/20140905/mexicois-trying-to-win-its-war-on-drugs-by-using-more-torture [Accessed 16 Dec. 2015]. OHCHR, (2015). Declaration of Human Rights - Abbreviated. [online] Available at: http:// www.ohchr.org/EN/UDHR/Documents/UDHR_Translations/eng.pdf [Accessed 16 Dec. 2015].

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FEAR DECIDES YOUR ACTIONS JANIS MIKITS GRADE 7

When Brian experiences fear he is led to finding new ways to survive. When he finds something that threatens him he must fix it and his fear is the one telling him that. When we are scared of failure or not achieving our goal, we are motivated to complete that task (Sanchez A., 2013). This means that if you come to a wall in your activity and you will not be able to progress, you try to fix that problem and get around it because you are scared of the consequences. But if you are not given a solution then you are in a state of paralysis, you won’t do anything (Wilson R., 2009). By the end of the book he has overcome his fear but the beginning of Hatchet is a challenge. Towards the beginning of Hatchet when Brian crashes he does not know what to do and he gets stuck in a kind of fear paralysis. When he first crashed “...he sat and stared at the lake...It took an hour, perhaps two…” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p34). He is paralyzed by fear. When he did not do anything, it lead to self pity and thinking he could not do anything. “It kept coming back to that. He had nothing.” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p45). If you have fear with no clear solution it can lead to a type of paralysis and you will not be motivated, just stuck and scared (Wilson R., 2009). This is what Brian was experiencing in the beginning of his predicament. Later on he started to see ways out and he acquired helpful fear. When Brian started seeing the solutions to his problems his mind does not become paralyzed and his fear turns into motivation. This is shown when he is scared of starving therefore discovering a way to hunt. “He needed something to spring the spear forward… A bow and arrow.” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, pp106-107). This is also shown when he was scared of nature and needed a better house. “It was becoming frustrating...loss of temper...What he needed were logs with limbs sticking out...and “weave” them together…”(Gary Paulsen, 1987, p155). When Brian’s brain realizes that it needed to change or rectify something for survival, it found a way to do so. He developed good fear for motivating him the more he learned about the wild. Because of this, fear in a way decided his path. When fear became Brian’s motivator it in a way decided what he did. “...discoveries happened because they needed

to happen.” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p107). When he realized his activity or life was in danger, he was determined to rectify it, setting himself on the right track. (Guise S., 2015). This is shown when he decided to make his first shelter. “There were wolves and bears...He had to have some kind of shelter.” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p 51). He made the shelter because he was scared of the animals. A second example is when he decided to make his fish pen. “...he had no food except for fish and the last of the berries...It might be possible, he thought...to trap them. Make some kind of pond…” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p127). He feared that he needed to sustain his food to survive or he would die which led him to making the pen. Almost all of Brian’s actions are because of fear and most of them keep him alive. Overall, Brain survived because he had the motivation of fear. If Brian had no fear and he just sat there because he thought the rescue teams were coming, he would be dead. He needed fear to drive him. One of the biggest examples of his fear is starvation. “Early in the new time he had learned the most important thing, that truly vital knowledge that drives all creatures in the forest - food is all.” (Gary Paulsen, 1987, p122). This means that he realized (because of fear) that he needed to eat. When we are scared of failure or not achieving our goal, we are motivated to complete that task. (Sanchez A., 2013). All of his survival is governed by fear. Essay Question: Brian is, at times, overcome with fear as he tries to survive in the wilderness. Write an essay that argues that fear is sometimes helpful to Brian’s efforts to survive. Make sure you provide evidence from the text to support your ideas.

Sources: Sanchez A. (2013) Why is Fear a Powerful Motivator Available at: Yhttp://www.gamification. co/2013/09/05/why-fear-is-a-powerful-motivator/ [Accessed 1 Dec 2015]. Wilson R. (2009) The Most Powerful Motivator Available at: https://www.psychologytoday. com/blog/the-main-ingredient/200909/the-most-powerful-motivator [Accessed 1 Dec 2015]. Guise S. (2015) Use Fear to Motivate yourself Available at: http://deepexistence.com/usefear-to-motivate-yourself/ [Accessed 2 Dec 2015]. Gary Paulsen (1987) Hatchet, vol. 1, p34-155.]. 63

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DINNER GUESTS SENA CINAR GRADE 8

If I could have dinner with five influential people, either alive or dead, I would invite Adolf Hitler, Julius Caesar, Abraham Lincoln, Joseph Stalin and George Washington. The main reason I would invite these five specific people is because they’re all successful leaders, therefore, it would be amusing to see all of them brag about their accomplishments and try to get to the top by putting other people under the rock. My first guest is Adolf Hitler, a truly phenomenal leader. I chose this person because it is amazing to me how people have so blindly followed a man who demanded the death of many innocent people. The question is--why did people have such faith in him? Of course it’s the power of influence. Not just was Hitler wonderful at open talking, he was an extremely taught man. What offered him some assistance was that oppression of Jews goes back to medieval times. It was not a formation of Germany in the 1930s and 1940s, in spite of the fact that the Nazis took hostile to Semitism to extremes. He realized that with a specific end goal to totally freed Germany of the Jews, he’d have to keep on expanding on this thought. He did this by putting it into individuals’ heads that they were a risk to society. This sort of force is called coercive force. He had the capacity to control others through the apprehension of specific results and can be used properly or improperly. For this situation, Hitler used his coercive power improperly to turn his kin against a pure race. He additionally had a solid requirement for force shape at a young age. People with a high requirement for force get fulfillment from influencing others. They search for positions where they can impact others. They are great at building trusting connections and they can be straightforward and commanding. Clearly this is a total negative side of force and impact. Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad, for instance, drove a large number of slaves to opportunity by turning into an effective pioneer, however there are still negative sides to it. Without information, history will undoubtedly rehash itself. We should take a gander at the way Hitler drove his people by misrepresentation and lies, by force and impact, by a solid capacity to convince individuals who got to be not able think for themselves. Something I would like to ask Hitler is: why were you so against Jews? Seeing as Abraham Lincoln is also 64

one of the guests, I would expect some tension between the two, since Lincoln gave equal rights to Americans whereas Hitler completely took away rights. My second guest is Julius Caesar. I chose him, because amid his rule as a dictator from 49-44 BC, Julius Caesar had various remarkable influences on the city of Rome. Caesar’s influence on the city of Rome proceeded even after his passing when, in his will, he stipulated that his estate, the greenhouses encompassing it, and his craft exhibition all be made open. He likewise appropriated his riches to the general population of Rome, leaving 300,000 sesterces to every nation. Overall, Caesar tried to make Rome a social and instructive focal point of the Mediterranean world by pulling in intelligent people, specialists, and legal counselors to the city. Without a doubt, the moves that he made over his time demonstrated his dedication to Rome and his wish to convey solidness and success to the city. Something I’d ask Caesar is: why did your soldiers have faith in you so much? How did they admire you? Upon me asking this question, I feel like George Washington would butt in to explain how his leaders admired him as well, and then there would be a competition between Caesar and Washington. My third guest is Abraham Lincoln. I chose him because Lincoln turned into the most eloquent voice against human bondage in the country, gaining wide regard in a failed Senate battle in 1858, then utilizing his new acclaim to win the selection of the abolitionist Republican Party in 1860. His decision brought the severance of 11 states in the South, yet he stood firm, revitalizing the ill-equipped North to a last fight over the fate of the Union. Reviled with a parade of frail officers (at right, he meets with General George McClellan in 1862), he taught himself military procedure and slowly discovered commanders who could battle. An excellent politician, Lincoln held the Union cause together through a long and bleeding struggle. In the wake of the war’s crucial fight, he rearticulated the country’s qualities in his intense Gettysburg Address. In the wake of winning a second term, he promised the Union would welcome the withdrew states back “with malice toward none, with charity for all.” He was killed soon after the Confederacy surrendered, however his strong

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undertaking was finished. Something I’d ask Abraham Lincoln is: What made you want to run for president in the first place? Something that would happen upon me asking this question would probably be how Hitler would interrupt by explaining how democracy is dumb and there should be a dictator, not a president. My fourth guest is Joseph Stalin. I chose him, because Stalin was a confounded man who saw the best approach to changing a general public was through a solid and compelling clench hand. He impacted society all through the world by ingraining dread in millions as well as making numerous advantageous changes that in a few courses help than obstruct. Stalin was Premier of Russia, somewhere around 1949 and 1953. The confounding nature behind this man is the misguided judgments the western learning has of him. Stalin additionally influenced society through his much liberalization of the social administrations. The most saw arrangement of progress under the Stalin administration was the correspondence of ladies. Under Stalin, young ladies were given a satisfactory, square with instruction and women had parallel rights in vocation. This was very different than numerous westernized societies that did not see ladies in a leveled sense and more to the point did not have equal pay for both of the genders; men still are paid measurably more than women are. From a nation that had quite recently pulled its head from a World War and from having such a retrogressive adapted society to change to give ladies a feeling of fairness shows no less than a tinge of a positive effect on society. Another of Stalin’s “positive” effects on society was through the human services framework. Those people that were not in the gulags in the ghettos in the Soviet Union, under Stalin brought on the requirement for prenatal look after women. One question I would ask Joseph Stalin is: Did you ever notice that Hitler was actually manipulating you? If you did, why did you allow him? This question may start an argument between Hitler and Stalin. Hitler may either agree to my question or deny it, and Stalin is a smart man, therefore, he might say he knew or did not. Or maybe he would say that he used Hitler’s manipulation against him.

My fifth guest is George Washington. I chose him, because Washington’s military accomplishments are appreciated for their determination instead of their splendor. The Battle of Trenton may have been as critical a contention as this country ever won. His triumph breathed life into the Revolution back: the settlements challenged seek again after freedom, France started to look with more support on the American battle, and Britain started to lose heart. In any case, the fight itself was actually a shambles. The main President once in awhile looked on his 22 years of open administration as a sort of jail sentence that removed him from his Virginia home — Washington collected almost 100,000 sections of land in his last years and was judged one of the wealthiest men in the country. His most loved amusement was fox chasing, and he was a slaveholder, however, not at all like Jefferson, he set his more than 125 slaves free in his will. George Washington was sensible and insightful. He was not the most educated or inventive of men. Be that as it may, he comprehended himself and this country to-be. His heart and psyche were molded by his family, his territory, his group and the little occasions that touched him consistently. One question I would ask him would be: Why didn’t you choose to become King when requested? Upon me asking this question, I think Lincoln and Washington would bond over democracy and equal rights, whilst Stalin and Hitler are still having their mini argument. Julius Caesar would be the one trying to calm down Hitler and Stalin, being a part of Washington and Lincoln’s conversation. Overall, this dinner would be very interesting. Five great leaders in one room would be discussing many of their achievements, as well as bonding over similar thoughts. Although, there still would be some disagreements over little things that they would soon forget about Bibliography: Penn State,. “Power And Influence In The Life Of Adolf Hitler | Leadership”. N.p., 2012. Web. 24 Jan. 2016. Fife, Steven. “Caesar As Dictator: His Impact On The City Of Rome”. Ancient History Encyclopedia. N.p., 2012. Web. 24 Jan. 2016. Staff, TIME. “Abraham Lincoln | The 20 Most Influential Americans Of All Time | TIME.Com”. TIME. N.p., 2012. Web. 24 Jan. 2016. Ibatpv.org,. “SILVAPAGES”. Web. 24 Jan. 2016.

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HOW DO WE FIT IN? NADIA LYNN GRADE 8

It is challenging to fit in the different social groups. It is hard to be ‘normal’ according to all of the rules of the social norms. Fitting in can be challenging, however the whole world seems to demands us to fit in. All of us have to find the right place for ourselves to feel complete. In S.E. Hinton’s novel “Outsiders” there is a focus on the ideas like families, friendships, gangs, schools - fitting into all of the different aspects in our life and how important that is, especially for teenagers. The novel “Outsiders” was written by S.E. Hinton in 1967 is about teenage kids, that are born into two groups. One of the groups is the Greasers: according to stereotypes, the poor, unprivileged kids that shoplift, fight and bully others. The second gang is the Socials: cold, wealthy kids that ‘jump’ on Greasers and steal things, however not because of need, because they are bored. In the novel “Outsiders” we can see the rivalry between the both of the groups and what are the benefits of being rich, but aloof and being poor, but all bonded together tightly, united by suffering. Families play a significant role in our life. Families are important, because they give us support, protect us and love us no matter what. His parents died in a car crash and he lives with his two older brothers- Sodapop and Darry, who works to provide his family with all of the essentials. Darry and Ponyboy often fight, because Darry is too tough and hard on Pony. In some way, my mother is like Darry: tough and sharp, and my dad is like Sodapop: a soft-hearted person, who will listen to you and give you advice. I have conflicts with my mother, just like Pony and Darry do. My dad is in the middle of fights with my mom, and he struggles to pick one side and he is the middle man, just like Sodapop in the ‘Outsiders’ and he gets 66

quite tired or it. “I mean, I can’t take sides. It’d be a lot easier if I could, but I see both sides” (Hinton,1995, p.175). However, compared to Johnny’s family, we are very different. I may sometimes fight with my family, but my parents never ignore me. They want all the best for my future: they have sent me to a private school to give me a good and decent education, they feed me, buy me clothes, electronics and help me out. In return, I have to study, help out with my younger brother and sister, do some house chores, and be respectful. All in all, I can say that I have sometimes a tough, but a close relationship with my family. We try to find compromises and solutions for all the problems we face. Conflicts and misunderstandings will always happen, especially in families, and in these situations, people just need some time-out and support from someone else, like our friends. For me, friends are like a second family that we choose for ourselves. I am very fortunate to have friends that will always help me in hard situations and tolerate my quirky character. One of my best friends, Dasha, lives in Kyiv and I know her for six years now. We meet once or twice a month, go to the mall or to each other’s houses. We have gone together through a lot of tough situations (for example, when her parents got divorced), that we are so close that we can almost understand each other without words, like Johnny and Ponyboy. “I knew Johnny understood what I meant. We had always been close buddies, and those lonely days in the church strengthened our friendship” (Hinton, 1995, p.121). School is a place where we spend a half of our day, five days per week. It is important that we fit in and belong in our school so that we make progress in learning and feel

confident. Ponyboy does not fit in well in the school, because Cherry doesn’t know that Pony learned in the same school, he is not so famous and well-noticed. “You don’t look old enough to to be going to high school” (Hinton, 1995, p. 23). However, Ponyboy liked learning and he was good at it. We can see that Ponyboy has talent in learning. “Listen, with your brains and grades you could get a scholarship, and we could put you through college” (Hinton, 1995, p.173). I I think that I am similar to Ponyboy- I like investigating new things, learning and I do well in some subjects , however I can surely say that I fit in my school and that belong in my school, with my gang of school friends. I am a part of a gang with some of my school friends. We are similar to the Socks- we are not as close as the Greasers are; they are like a family to each other, they stick up for each other. With my school gang, we just hang around, eat together at lunch, talk about different things that happened at school, help out each other with homework and sometimes go together to the mall or to each other’s house on the weekends. We have fun, though we are not as bonded together as tightly as the Greasers are. It is hard to be ‘normal’ according to all of the rules that we have. It is very challenging to fit in. And if you don’t fit in, maybe it is not such a bad thing. As Dr. Seuss said: “Why fit in when you were born to stand out?” Be the one who stands out, be courageous and maybe it will work out better for you as an individual.

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Bibliography: Hinton, S. E. The Outsiders. New York: Speak, 1995. Print.

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REHABILITATION HELPS JUVENILE CRIMINALS MARIYA KRYSHCHUK GRADE 6

Have you ever imagined how many kids suffer or get beaten up in jails; do you think this helps them to become a better person, change their future or understand their mistake? A lot of kids suffer in jails, but still come back because they don’t understand their mistake, but rehabilitation changes them for better. Think about how many kids will have a chance to change their future for the better with rehabilitation. Children, no matter what the have done, don’t deserve to go to prison. There is a lot of sad and scary stories about how kids were killed or punished very badly even because of little or unknown mistakes. Some kids will understand, regret, never repeat, and learn from their mistakes, but some kids come back to jails because they do not understand their mistake and do it again. “There are recordings in new France that on January 19, 1649 a young girl who was about 15 years old was hanged for theft.“ (Star), and “Millions of children all over the world suffer from violence,” (Unodc.org). There are a lot of children who suffer in prison or even were killed because of their crimes, but at the same time there are countries who made rehabilitation courts instead of prisons for juveniles that went on a wrong path. It does help kids to become better. Isn’t it nice to know that kids all over the world can have a better future? Not long ago all over the world children were treated the same way as adults if they committed a crime. Now some countries understood and changed destiny for kids - instead of punishment they put kids to rehabilitation, but some countries still haven’t changed their opinion and they have more kids coming back on the wrong paths of crimes. In US the right path is chosen. There is also a prison for children on a lonely island in Norway where children are treated with respect, trust, and have given responsibility. “A bit more than 100 years ago, there was only one justice system in US. American children were treated the same way as adults when they committed a crime. They even have put kids as 7 years old to death.” (Practicenotes.org). There are few countries that put kids to rehabilitation instead of prisons and thanks to that, there are less juvenile crimes and 68

less children come back to jails. Fortunately, US and Norway aren’t the only countries that use rehabilitation to change children for the better. Juvenile Criminal Justice Systems have started worldwide not much more than 100 years ago. You might say something like, “Hey, it has started so long ago.”, but I would say, “Think about how many kids have died from violence before first juvenile courts. Prisons have existed much longer and didn’t change a plentiful of juveniles for the better.” “Juvenile Criminal Justice System started growing not so long ago, when one of the first juvenile courts was established in Illinois,1899. They replaced prisons with juvenile courts that not only give children supervision, but also care, education, and a chance to change” (Jlc.org). With rehabilitation less kids started returning on the wrong path. That means they have chosen the right way to treat juveniles who committed crimes and there became less juvenile criminals and that proves that rehabilitation works. In conclusion I think that punishment or violence don’t make juvenile criminals better. Rehabilitation mostly works better for juvenile criminals, because rehabilitation doesn’t hurt them. In prison juveniles might not understand their mistake and a lot of them come back, while rehabilitation gives them education, understanding of their mistake, and hope for a better future. Juvenile criminals almost never repeat their mistake after rehabilitation. If you see a kid that made a mistake, what would you do, punish them and wait for them to come back or help them to become a better person and have better future…

Bibliography:

James, Erwin. ‘The Norwegian Prison Where Inmates Are Treated Like People’. the Guardian. N.p., 2013. Web. 17 Nov. 2015. Jlc.org,. ‘Youth In The Justice System: An Overview | Juvenile Law Center’. N.p., 2015. Web. 14 Nov. 2015. Practicenotes.org,. ‘Juvenile Justice: A Brief Overview’. N.p., 2015. Web. 14 Nov. 2015. Star, Toronto. ‘Youth And Crime In Canada Timeline | Toronto Star’. thestar.com. N.p., 2015. Web. 14 Nov. 2015. Unodc.org,. ‘Children In The Justice System Need Protection’. N.p., 2015. Web. 14 Nov. 2015.

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THE CHASE ANNA ZVONKOVA GRADE 10

Just like the night is lacking sun, The day is stripped of starry skies. Forgotten breath, remorse there’s none. A lost sensation a game of lies. The story told one time again, A darker light is shining through. The loss, the torture, foe and friend Uncharted body wet with dew. All bleeding thoughts are seeping out, The numbness leaves the body stays. The silence fills the field and shouts Awoken son begins the chase. The pointless hunt of chasing tails It lasts for days till one gives in. Till one is found and another fails, The time is poison in one’s skin. The story’s back where it began, The end is wrapped around the start, Defeated body cried and ran

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THE LEGEND ANNA ZVONKOVA GRADE 10

We have heard legends About his bravery and struggles that he faced. And that his life was a brave battle. How he was blind but fought for life. They told us all to view him as a model, To never give up and strive to do our best. However, when I met him On a bright and sunny day he could not see, I asked him what would be his secret, He answered: there is nothing left for me. He said the bravery we claim is nothing but his ignorance. He told me all about how scared he was, All about the nightmares and the headaches. He answered: there was just none to lose. When youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re eighteen and need a nanny There is no comfort in existence. And as I stood beside him To shake his shaking hand, He took a sure step forwards, And let the bus complete his life.

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THE GIRL IS STANDING IN THE COLD NIKITA TARATORIN GRADE 9

The girl is standing in the cold She sells the gifts to friends and foes Ribbons, cards and wooden matches But nobody cares, nobody watches.

The girl is standing in the cold Watching gifts being sold But she stands there crying for those matches Thinking what to say at home.

The girl is standing in the cold The strangers are ignoring her The girl is cold, the teeth are clinging The body’s shivering, the mind is freezing.

The girl is standing in the cold And sees the merchant not so old The merchant looks at standing girl and asks: “What happened to your little soul?”

The girl is standing in the cold Thinking of that math homework Of mom, of dad, of little brother The girl just wished she couldn’t bother.

The girl is standing in the cold Explaining why the matches can not be sold Explaining that she can’t afford her school Explaining that her house is dull.

The girl is standing in the cold Shivering so much, she drops the box The matches are now lying on the ground Being soaked, being drowned.

The Merchant is standing in the cold Looking at the matches which can’t be sold He thinks, and gives the girl some money “Do your homework, feed your mommy.”

The girl is standing in the cold Crying, frowning, feeling sad Now she can’t sell those matches Now she can’t afford her classes.

The girl is running in the cold Her happiness can not be told Her house is happy, her brother is fed Girl has school tomorrow, the poem is read.

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HOPELESS CRUELTY — A MEMOIR BY HEDWIG HOESS DANIEL JOSEFSON GRADE 10

It was a very gloomy day, June 8th, 1944. Rudolf was at work as always and I was sitting inside hiding with the kids. A couple days before, news came to us of the successful landing of the Allied forces in France which jeopardized the idea that the Germans were unbeatable. The Soviets began pushing on the east front as well so Rudolf was given the command to increase the speed at which the “Jews” of Europe were being evacuated. There was so much smoke in the air it was unbearable. Of course, we told our kids it was just a lot of bakeries in that place and that is why there was so much smoke, but in return Johann would ask; “But why does it smell so bad!?” And that is where I can’t give the innocent ones any explanation. I just come up with an excuse each time such as there was a plumbing problem or something along the lines. I feel unbearably bad lying to the little ones but I just can’t tell them the truth. What my husband and our government is doing is inexplicably wrong. Of course with all of the propaganda throughout the Third Reich most people believe in all of that. But I don’t know what to believe in at this point. This just seems beyond what any human being would do. This is along the lines of mass extermination such as of rats or termites. That is something that is very hard for me to understand, as it’s just seems so fictional, but here I am living in the house 74

which is not even 100 meters away from my husband’s workplace. I call my maid and tell her that she is to keep watch of Johann and his siblings. I go into the kitchen, where at least for some time I can escape that terrible odor which seems to be creeping up on me like a wild beast waiting to pounce and break me down. I prepare some meatloaf and potatoes to take to Rudolf for lunch; I noticed before that he forgot to take his today. I am sure he will be glad to see me come and bring him something to help him spend this day at least a bit more pleasantly; I can imagine how horrid the smell is inside the camp. I can only have so much compassion for my husband though, as he did choose this job. I exit the house; the sky is so dim yet there are no clouds, just smoke. And so much of it. I walk towards the main entrance where there are at least a dozen guards facing me and some even began to look suspiciously at my parcel, as they have had a bombing attempt recently, which my husband told me about at dinner last Friday. They searched through my parcel and found nothing and the Head of the guard assigned two SS men to escort me to my husbands office. There were so many guards around his office it made me feel a bit uneasy, as if they were expecting thousands of prisoners to charge towards it and seize him but that has never happened before.

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They searched me once again in front of my husband’s office, and when I was finally allowed into his office, he was sitting there with his head down. When he heard me step closer to him he lifted his head and his mood instantly changed. He turned into the happy man I first met and his facial expressions showed no sign of his state when I just walked in. He greeted me and hugged me tightly; his hugs were so gentle yet at the same time so hard to break out of. That must be because of his stress, I asked him how his day went and he responded with the usual jitter of it was fine everything’s going according to plan. We sat down and he ordered one of his guards to fetch him some tea, and we sat and I had a nice chat with him. Then out of nowhere I heard a very faint scream which Rudolf seems to have ignored. He just continue looking straight at me, with his eyes sensing fear within me. He gestured one of the guards to come in and find out what’s

happening outside and that’s when we heard a gunshot, not just any gunshot. But one that was coming from right outside his office. He stood up from his chair and rushed out of the room gesturing me to stay put. As soon as he left I stood up and shadowed his movements through the halls until both he and I ended up outside. I saw my husband with his leg on top of a woman with a child in her arms, I could see him so clearly gazing at her with eyes full of cold rage. He then took the woman’s baby and threatened to kill it if she didn’t stand up. She pleaded with him for mercy and to not kill her child with tears in her eyes; he pressed the gun against the baby’s temple even harder and the baby continued crying without any understanding of what was about to happen. The woman did stand up, but he shot the baby anyway, followed by a second bullet for the woman. This moment is the true definition of cruelty.

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FATE AND FAILURE SONJA RINGGER GRADE 9

There was no time. No time no time no time. The man’s chest heaved with effort as he sprinted down the narrow alleys of the neighbourhood to the sound of singing sirens. The briefcase, loaded with his prize, seemed to grow heavier with every step the man took. He was close, so very close. 50 meters. 40. 30. He kept running, running, running, and knew that he should be thinking about his next actions, about escaping, but all he could focus on was the exhilaration of the chase and the knowledge of the small plastic bags within his suitcase, filled with the precious white powder that would, once delivered, bring him a fortune. The metal-enforced door swung open under the pressure of his right hand just in time for the man to pass through the opening into the narrow hall. Huffing in the aftermath of his escape, he forced his step to slow down. The man straightened his clothes as much as he could, wiped the sweat off his forehead and ran a hand through his messy hair. He stopped short of the office door. “Come in, Mr. Smith,” the gravely voice he dreaded called out from behind an old, oak table. It’s alright, the man thought, he’s a friend. He stepped over the doorstep. The filled briefcase was placed on the table, and the man behind said desk smiled a cold, professional smile. “Is everything in order?” ‘Mr. Smith’ asked. Too late did ‘Mr. Smith’ notice that the police sirens had stopped their wailing, and too late did he spot the gun on his boss’ desk. And Clover did, because he instinctively knew the building was surrounded.

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COMPLICATIONS OF A MURDER: CHAPTER ONE ANNA BUGAY GRADE 10

On a dark night

It was probably one of the worst possible days that I’ve ever experienced. Not only was it raining and smoggy but also it was excruciatingly cold. Maybe it’s due to the fact that it’s mid-November, but still, it wasn’t even as chilly just a few days back. The horrible weather conditions were definitely addressing the horrific events that had taken place during this immensely long night, at least that’s how everyone was feeling. It was midnight, and even though most people were deeply entrenched in their hopefully happy and promising dreams, the streets were definitely not empty, due to the group of people that weren’t thinking about sleep at all. In fact, they were looking forward to the adrenaline that they were going to receive. At midnight, it’s very hard to orientate since you most likely can’t see anything. Being blinded scares us, because it’s important for us to visualize and interpret everything through our eyes. When we can’t, we start to panic. And even though the street lights were helping, they did not allow for the most efficient way of looking at things. To top it all off, street lights don’t always shine bright light at the streets, making the scene even more blood-curling. Which is most likely what they felt, but were too scared to show it. Can you imagine what would happen if one of them chickened out, or changed their mind? The rest of the gang would never forgive him, and so they all had no choice, but to keep walking to their destination that was getting closer and closer, with every single step that they took. None of them knew what was going on, they didn’t have 78

a plan, they just knew what they wanted to do, which was submerge themselves in a conversation with an acquaintance of one of their friends. Not all of them wanted to spend their night talking to that person just because they were mistaken. Some of them had better things to do but were too scared to say this aloud, because they knew that there was no backing out. As they reached the house, they stopped in order to regroup and understand what they were going to do next. “I will be quick, I just need to get my stuff out of the apartment,” a harsh male voice annunciated “What if he’s still there? I shall go with you!” a drunk voice replied. “I am sure that he’s long gone by now. My mother has gotten the message, and she is not stupid enough to repeat the same mistake.” “I am not saying that your mother is stupid, I am just saying that she has forgiven him once… so she could easily let him back in.” “I highly doubt it, but come, it will be good to have someone at my side.” As they entered the house, they had no idea what they were getting into. None of them had expected any of this to happen, and neither did they ever envision of this happening. But from the moment that they entered the house, one knew. He knew that he was in there, that he came back, and even though his friend was convinced otherwise and believed that his mother would never do anything like that, his gut has not lied to him.

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Slowly, and steadily they walked up the stairs to the apartment. Knocked on the door. No answer. They knocked again. Finally a head popped out; it was his mother. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she said angrily, while trying very hard not to scream. “Yeah, isn’t it like 12:00?” the son replied, with a grin spreading across his face. “Are you drunk?” she asked with even more anger in her eyes. “No, we are slightly intoxicated,” the friend replied as the two of them broke down laughing. “What are you doing here?” the mother asked seriously. “Oh right, I came here in order to get my stuff back. I believe that you referred to it as ‘useless crap’,” the son said with a smile. “Oh yes, indeed I do remember. Just wait a second, I’ll get it.” This was one of the greatest mistakes that could’ve happened. For some reason the mother thought that she could easily leave the door open. However, the drunk fellows decided to wait inside the apartment in order to hurry the mother and to see if who the male individual that they were referring previously was still inside the apartment. However, the mother came back really fast with the bag. “There, here is everything that you asked for. Now please leave,” she said. “This is very unmotherly, to kick out your one and only loving son,” he replied with a very serious face. “I agree, I love you dearly, but I hate whenever you get drunk and start acting like a madman,” she replied furiously. “For the last time, we are just a tiny little bit intoxicated!”

“Ugh, please leave. I can’t be bothered to have a conversation with you at the moment. Maybe you should come back in the morning, or when you’re not dr… ‘intoxicated’,” the mother replied, with sadness in her eyes. Right when the males were about to leave, something completely bewildering happened. He walked out from one of the rooms and said: “Why are you so loud, it’s 12:00 AM! Please shut up!” From this point on, there were things thrown, attacks were made and a lot of swear words were passed back and forth. All of this was absolutely terrifying, because seeing drunk men fight is not something that everyone wants to experience. Within 20 minutes, they decided to take a break, because the mother’s cohabitant decided to get some air. Which is when something completely unexpected happened. The final member of the gang showed up, and now it was his turn to teach that man a lesson. During this, mother stayed inside and tried to clean up all of the chaos that was caused; she was crying and trying to think of ways to stop all of this. Her son and his friend were also trying to help, but couldn’t understand what they needed to do, so they decided to go and find him again. The moment that they wandered outside, they saw him lying on the ground, covered in even more blood than before, and right next to him was their good friend, clearly proud of what he has done. It’s unknown what’s going to happen to them but one thing’s for sure, murder, can not be left unjustified. 79

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MY BRIGHT FUTURE NIKITA KYRYLLOV GRADE 9

Ever since I can remember Germany has been divided. East and West Germany were the satellites of the world’s two great superpowers America and the USSR locked in an eternal struggle for power, like two giant warriors clashing together to show the world that they are the greatest. On the West side, there was Capitalism, freedom and truth. On the East, there was Socialism, oppression and propaganda. I lived in the East. The leaders of the Soviet Union tried their best to persuade everyone how great Socialism was. They constructed huge buildings, aired only Socialist radio and TV stations that blared only how great Stalin was and even had a parade every May first to show off their military strength. They tried their best to persuade people to stay in East Germany, but no one would believe them, and this was for good reasons. The Soviet leaders oppressed the population. Free speech was not allowed in any way. If you were in any way against the government you were guaranteed a prison sentence. The Soviets harshly punished anyone who thought that their methods were incorrect, and this caused even more people to think so. Do you want to see me do something illegal? “Brezhnev, is it true that you collect political jokes?” – “Yes” – “And how many have you collected so far?” – “Three and a half labor camps”. Now if someone would have read my memoir, I would go to prison. But i didn’t care in a few weeks I would escape. I had just finished school in East Berlin at that time. It was a rather good school, and since, at that time, you were allowed to cross the border if you had a pass, I went ahead and sent my resume to a West Berlin university, one of the best the Free University of Berlin, and was accepted. I don’t think I was so happy many times in my life. This feeling of utter joy was comparable to that feeling that I got when I turned 7 80

years old, the exact birthday that my father finally returned from WW2. I hadn’t seen him in 6 years, I wasn’t even sure he was alive, but every day I would sit near the window waiting for him to return, and then it finally happened. When I went to the final day of secondary school, I was returning home with a huge smile on my face. I had finished my school with exceptional results and I knew that my father would be proud of me. I went up the stairs to our apartment and walked in. “Dad!” I shouted, no answer. “Father?” I asked, but to no avail. I walked to the bedroom and saw my mother sobbing while sitting on her bed. “They took him. They came in and took him away. A tear rolled down her cheek, a single tear of pure despair. He didn’t even do anything. He just told a joke at the wedding last night. Our neighbor reported him to the Stasi.” Aleksandrov?. “Yes”. I knew Aleksandrov. He was a fat, hateful and disgusting man with little eyes that gleamed with loathing. These little eyes were always searching for someone against the state, his ears, that were almost as fat as the vareniki he ate every day we’re always listening for an innocent joke, which when he heard he would instantly report to the Stasi. He would lumber towards their Headquarters with a smile on his ugly face, and he would return with an even larger smile when he knew that the person he told on was going to be arrested. He had no value for friendship or family, reporting even his closest people, his only true devotion was the Communist party. For this, he was given a great job, many privileges and a luxury apartment in the best street in Berlin the Karl Marx street. He lived in an apartment complex on the Strausberger Platz, and ate luxurious dishes while his friends rot in jail, sent

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there because it was his duty to report to the Stasi. I hated that man. I hated him with a passion. And now, my father, a veteran of the war, a man who even in these dire times stayed human, a man who hasn’t ordered any сivilians to be executed in his entire time of service, is going to get sent to jail for a year for telling a joke. I was desperate and enraged at the same time. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew I had to make my father proud. No matter when he will know of my accomplishments, I want to make my father happy when he gets out of prison, and i’m going to do it. That day I lay alone in my room, looking at the ceiling. Tomorrow i’m going to go to University. Tomorrow I am going to accomplish something in life. I woke up in a good mood. I was sure that day would be a good day. How wrong could I be… Breakfast was the usual, just simple porridge, but I didn’t mind. I knew my mother worked hard to get us all the things we need, and I respected her even more for this. I packed my things and got ready for university. As I walked out of my apartment, I saw Aleksandrov having his morning coffee. I picked up a tiny rock and as he turned away from the direction I was in I threw the stone and hit him directly in the bald spot on his head. I heard a shout coming from his direction, but I was already around the corner and he couldn’t see me. It always makes me happy to see Aleksandrov angry. I chuckled to myself and thought of the grimace that must now be on his face. Then, I turned another corner and saw it. A wall. A three meter wall just standing there. It wasn’t there yesterday. I looked to both sides, and as far as I could see there was the wall. I didn’t know what to think. But for some reason, the second I saw it, I knew i’m going to escape. I’m going to make my father proud of me. I’m going to finish the Free University of Berlin. I’m going to do it no matter what it costs me. I stepped towards the wall. There was a warning sign but I didn’t care about it. There were too many thoughts racing through my head at the time. I stepped over the caution line and approached the huge construction. I ran my hand along it. It was just like any other wall, but it felt so surreal. It was like a dream, a dream in which I woke up and saw a fresh wall stretching far beyond the horizon, a wall which was built in a single night, a wall which was the only thing separating me from a bright future. My daydream was interrupted by a loud shout. I saw a soldier running towards me. He had a PPSH submachine gun in his hands. “Здесь нельзя находится!“ I froze, knowing that any movement may result in him

opening fire. “ Ты что не понимаешь?” He pointed the machine gun at me, but then paused and started speaking in broken German “You are forbidden from crossing this line!“ His strong Russian accent was very easy to hear, and after few more loud shouts I was brought back to reality. “I’m sorry, but why is this wall here?”, I asked. “You don’t know? This is the Anti Fascist border, it was created to protect us from the fascists in the west!” “But aren’t we allowed to leave?” “No.” “Okay officer, I will go back home then.” “Good idea!” He said, as I turned around and walked right around the corner and towards my apartment. I didn’t even notice Aleksandrov, and didn’t hear his screaming at me. I went straight to my room and spent the rest of the day just staring at the ceiling while I lay on my bed. I woke up. It was 3 in the morning. The entire city was sleeping. I thought about the perspective of running to West Berlin, it seemed pretty good at first but then I thought of my mother. She would be very sad if I would leave, but I knew that she always hoped that I would have a bright future, and would understand my actions. I decided to leave most of the money that I have collected over the years to my mother, because she needed it more than me and I was going to start anew in West Berlin. I quickly wrote a note describing all my love for her, and then left through the door. As I was walking down the street I saw Aleksandrov’s window. I picked up a stone and was just about to throw it, when I realised that to prove that I am better than him I can’t get down to his level. I dropped the stone, and another larger stone dropped from my heart. I was free. Nothing was keeping me here. Not even me hatred for Aleksandrov, because there was nothing left of it. I walked around the corner and saw the wall, still standing there. It wasn’t a dream. I waited a little in the shadows until the guards were relatively far from my position. Then I ran towards the wall, jumped, grabbed its ledge and pulled myself to the top. I climbed over the barbed wire and outstretched my arms towards the night sky. I heard a familiar shout in broken German, and almost fell off the wall, chuckled to myself and leaped over the the barbed wire. I was in the West. This was the beginning of a new time, a clean slate, my chance to make my father proud. This was my bright future.

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A GLASS OF BORDEAUX MAXIMILIAN KONSTANTINOVSKY GRADE 9

I poured a glass of bordeaux for Reistz and walked up to this clambake of yours. He sat there, bulking with laughter at some facetious soldier’s discouraging joke about my ethnicity. People like that are what makes me doubt if humans are people at all. How humane can one be if he descends to murder of one’s own kind with the only reasoning being hatred and bloodlust? You don’t have to answer; it’s a rhetorical question. I sat the glass on the table, gritting my teeth as I walked back to the bar. Reistz took the glass without even looking at it, as if it were standing there as soon as he set foot into my bar, waiting for him, and this was just a convenient moment for him to finish it in one gulp. He drank hastily, still laughing. – Boy, what’s your name? Reistz said in a raucous manner, – Ritchie, sir. I replied. He didn’t continue until I made a turnabout back to his table, – Ritchie, huh? You don’t sound German, Ritchie. What are you doing here, in Berlin? – I moved here on the account of my personal affairs, sir. – A woman? – Almost, sir. – You wouldn’t like to share, would you, Ritchie? I stayed silent, my patience, running low, my triggerfinger, aching. The mauser under the napkin was loaded and ready, – Not in a good mood, Ritchie? – Great mood, sir. – That is great indeed. Oh, my manners! Do you know who I am, Ritchie? – Of course, sir. An introduction followed, – I am Vigo Reistz, Head of Foreign Intelligence of the Greater Germany, the firm and forceful Third Reich, and my 82

friend here is Hans Volst, The other four at the table, including you, were hazardously smiling. Reistz placed his heavy arm on my shoulder, pushing me closer to the table until my eyes were leveled with his, – Hans’ wife just gave birth to a boy. – This is great news, sir. – I would like you to congratulate Hans personally, Ritchie. Toast to his health and the prosperous futures of the Reich! With his left he mashed the glass into my hand. He removed his arm, letting me straighten up. I raised the glass, – Let’s drink to the health of Hans and his newborn son. – You didn’t finish. – I’m afraid I did, sir. – I’m afraid you didn’t, boy! Reistz slowly stood up. A monument of a man, an angry beast at bay, leased only by his own conscience. He was taller and thicker than me, but I was faster. He was stronger, but I had a loaded mauser. – Actually you’re right, Vigo, I didn’t finish. I moved here after you murdered my family. Thirsty for vengeance, I knew your spies were heading back to Berlin and so were you. I wonder how you didn’t recognize the wine; you drank it on the night of the carnage. My plan was laborious, but rewarding, and now, by coming here, you have made everything so much simpler. A loud shot thundered the room and a spritz of crimson splashed on the table and the napkin. Four more shots followed. I was very quick. Three more nazis lay dead on the wooden floor. I saw one more, screaming and worming to the corner, his leg bleeding like a flaming waterfall, his blood glowing like a setting sun. I walked to the sole survivor. Hans. You. I raised the gun, but couldn’t pull the trigger.

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*** Hans was sitting at the cold concrete wall, Ritchie crouched beside him. The hearth enveloped the room with heat and quivering glimpses of light. Everything in the bar was made of wood except the walls, sheltering the oak from the nefarious flame. The mellifluous crackles of the fire added to the homely atmosphere of the bar, as if it was designed to sooth the hiraeth of a sole soldier. Ritchie’s shelter has now graced him with ineffable emotions, his epoch of agony and massacre was on the brink of extinction. They were tired; the night has its own haze upon human minds. Outside, the streets were flooded with mellow petrichor, awaiting the upcoming aurora. Ritchie’s bloodthirsty eyes, once clouded with vengeance, were now clear and ready to forgive, or to punish. None of the two young men had the intention to die, but no chance of serendipity was seen at the horizon of this grizzly encounter. – This brings us here. I killed so many of you I have already lost count, but for me, none of these soldiers had families. Friends. Wifes. Children. I can’t kill you, but I can’t let you go. That brings us here, Hans. What can you say to make me pity you? – I have a family. – I know that.

– Is that not enough for a man to have mercy on another man? – Did Reistz have mercy on my family? Did he even twitch when he slaughtered my sisters? My mother? My father? Did you have a thought of doubt to shoot an enemy soldier? – No. – You want to die, don’t you? – But that doesn’t mean that you have to be like us. When I saw my boy for the first time today, I cried. I cried like a father, not a soldier, and if I could save your family I would, I swear, but there’s nothing I can do now. Find mercy in your wretched heart and let Peter live in a family that you’ve lost. Ritchie lowered his mauser, still smoking from the previous act of vengeance. The moment of epiphany has expired. Slowly and grimly he paced to the bar, slight mirrors of acceptance hover in his eyes and thoughts of wonder were deeply set inside his mind, the sonorous gunshots sweetly rang in his ears. A glass with carmine liquid stood on the hard, seasoned wood. Ritchie drank when Hans fired. The bullet cut Ritchie’s heart like knife through butter, piercing his scarlet flesh and escaping through his strong, young chest and shattering the decrepit bottle of exceptional bordeaux. 83

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UPPER MYP PROSE

MESSAGE TO MY GRANDFATHER NIKITA TARATORIN GRADE 9

Dear Grandpa, This year your apple tree bloomed like never before. Spring appeared to be cold, as our neighbours had mentioned in our phone call. Why neighbors you ask? Well, you understand, we are at war right now. Can you believe it? Remember May, 1985 in our hometown? Veterans, flowers, fireworks? I was still a kid, and you were sitting next to me, wearing lots and lots medals. I always looked at you with admiration. You have gone through two wars, were a paratrooper, served in Kurils, and then anchored in Lugansk. You, for some reason, never talked about war. Even though I saw lots of Soviet movies about heroes of the Union. You know, I just realised why you never mentioned war. You were sure that this would never happen again. And we didn’t need to know anything about it. I’m sorry for you to read this, but it has started all over again. Before we thought that our biggest threat was America, but do you know who really invaded us? You will never believe it. There are Russian tanks in our blooming, Lugansk! Russian tanks are shooting civilians, Grandpa! Without the declaration of war. Just like Nazis did 70 years ago. Do you want to know why? Russians were told, that we, Ukrainians, are fascists. Can you imagine it? Me, your grandson, a fascist. Just because I’m a patriot of my country. You know what is it like to like you homeland? But now, your

homeland, your Russia, your Penza, sends their soldiers and tanks to kill us. Can you believe it? It’s all because there is another schmuck in Moscow. Again. But not with a cult of personality, but with a cult of infamy. This monster even buries his soldiers in silence. Hiding their deaths from others. If you could live up to this moment, and in your 97 years, look in the eyes of those people with St. George’s ribbons. Today, it’s their symbol of “victory.” What will you see? The only thing I see is death, chaos, hatred. So what’s the outcome, Grandpa? No generation in our family living without a war? Even your little granddaughter is a child of war. You have gone through this hell. And us, maybe half of it. We are refugees now, Grandpa. And in Moscow they do Victory Parades. I think you also looked at them with disgust, in my age. Those chunks of flamethrowing pieces of metal, that were called “secure protection” of our motherland. But it’s not, and it never was. Because those tanks, cannons, rocket launchers, can go siege Mariupol right from the parade lines. Right from Red Square. You know what, Grandpa, you can see everything from up there. Can you speak with “someone,” and ask him to finish off that “main one” in Kremlin? But seriously, take him up there. And we will finally achieve long awaited peace. That’s how we live grandpa. Sorry for everything that happened. We are trying. 85

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UPPER MYP PROSE

LIGHT AUDREY MACDONALD GRADE 10

Lucy woke up. She had no memory from last night, nor from the nights before. She didn’t know where she was. It was pitch dark; she couldn’t see anything. She was lying on a wooden surface, with wooden walls surrounding right next to each side of her. Above her, a wooden surface about 4 inches away from her body. – “Hello? Can anyone hear me?” She yelled. All she heard was an echo. This is weird, she thought. In fact, she thought that this was too unusual, that this was just a prank from her friend Alyson. – “Ha ha Alyson! The joke’s over, now let me out!” She laughed. All she heard was an echo. Lucy thought that this was weird though, since Alyson was never a prankster. Lucy’s eyes were itching, and as she went to rub her eyes, she noticed how her arms were folded upon her chest. What an odd position, she thought, it’s as if I’m dead... She then noticed: Lucy was buried alive. All these emotions and thoughts were running through Lucy’s mind. Her head was heating up with fear, and her chest felt like it was twisting in multiple directions. She couldn’t breath properly. Her heart was beating louder than thunder and faster than 200 beats per minute. – “HELP! HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” She cried at the top of her lungs. It was no use, no one would be able to hear her from all of the dirt above the coffin. Lucy was taphophobic: afraid of being buried alive. She would have nightmares of waking up in a coffin. Lucy pinched herself but unfortunately, this wasn’t a dream. After 10 long and aching minutes of panicking, Lucy 86

decided to calm down. She took deep breaths. She thought to herself that these could be her last breaths. She knew that she didn’t have much time until the oxygen in the coffin would run out. She knew that she would die, and she came to a conclusion that she wanted to die in a peaceful manner. As tears rolled down her cheeks, Lucy lay, thinking about her life. She thought of her friend Alyson, and how much fun they had together. She thought of her wonderful family, and how sad they must be to think that she is dead at this moment. She thought of her sister Megan, and how Megan was always there for her. She thought of her boyfriend, John. She thought about how amazing their relationship was and how much she will miss him. She thought about their motorcycle rides together. She would feel free, as he would drive around the city... with nothing but fresh air around them. But one thing Lucy couldn’t think of was to why she was buried alive. She couldn’t remember anything. Her last memory was in fact one of their motorcycle rides. She was holding John, and they were riding to get some dinner together. Then next thing she knew, was that she woke up in a coffin, under 6 feet of dirt... – No! I am not going to die. I don’t want to. I can’t leave my boyfriend. I can’t leave my sister, my family, or Alyson. Lucy thought to herself. I am not going to give up. I will get out of this. I must! Lucy wanted to survive, and in order to do that, she had to get her act together. She went into a thought process where she would have to consider the smallest options that could get her out.

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Lucy realized that she wasn’t buried very long ago, if she still had air. This meant that the dirt above her was still loose. She took her hand and felt the wood above her. She then knocked on the wood to see how thick it was. Lucky for her, it wasn’t extremely thick, neither was it of good quality. Knowing that this coffin was cheap, she knew that there had to be weak points through which she could try to break free. With the sides of the coffin being the strongest because they had the most support, she knew that the middle of the coffin would have to be the weakest point, where a lot of the weight is slowly breaching it. She made her way towards the middle of the coffin, and kept on punching one spot, rapidly, as hard as she could. She noticed that she was slowly losing air, as she began suffocating. This was it, she either died right now or she would make a hole through the wood. The wood was too strong for her power.

She could inhale no longer. Holding her breath, her adrenaline kicked in. All of the strength that was in her went into one punch. The wood cracked, then at once, dirt started falling in into the coffin from a wide hole. The hard part was done. Lucy was free.

Epilogue: She made it out, and started yelling from all the trauma she just faced. Some people heard her, and rushed to help her. She woke up in a hospital with her family around her. They explained to her that she was in a horrifying motorcycle crash. Her boyfriend John passed away instantly. Lucy was in a 4 year coma, when the doctors announced that there was no hope and that only a miracle could bring her back to life. She was declared dead. 87

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UPPER MYP NON FICTION

CARBON FOOTPRINT OF CHOCOLATE AUDREY MACDONALD GRADE 10

Chocolate might be very tempting to eat, and you might think that buying chocolate from a store does no harm. However, a simple two-ounce bar of chocolate leaves a carbon footprint of 169 grams, or in other perspectives 0.169kg (One Green Planet, 2015). Now, that might not seem like a lot, especially when compared to other products’ carbon footprint, however, chocolate is high in demand in many places all over the world. This means that the more we buy chocolate, the more chocolate the factories will make, which means the more amounts of greenhouse gasses, such as carbon dioxide are sent into the air. A lot of carbon dioxide is released into our atmosphere in order to make chocolate, like stated above. First of all, let’s begin with the start of the process; collecting the cocoa beans. The main ingredient in every chocolate is the cocoa beans (Xocoatl.org, 2015). Cocoa beans grow from a tree, and in order to take the cocoa beans, people either cut down the trees or cut the cocoa pods from the tree. Eventually, they cut down the tree after they cut off all of the pods since it isn’t necessary to keep the tree (Xocoatl.org, 2015). Chocolate is the reason behind why countries such as Africa is facing deforestation in parts of their countries (One Green Planet, 2015). Not only is deforestation a bad thing, but the carbon that was stored in the tree is emitted as carbon dioxide back into the atmosphere (Casey, 2008). After these cocoa beans are collected, they are then transported to chocolate factories (Sfu.ca, 2015). There are chocolate factories in many places all over the world, including overseas, hence transportation such as aircraft is necessary. 88

There is a chocolate factory in Brooklyn, New York. America doesn’t have cocoa trees written on their natural resource list. Hence, chocolate in America is high in demand, therefore they need cocoa beans. That is why countries like Ghana ship their cocoa beans over to New York, and other places in America as well (Sfu.ca, 2015). Now, according to BlueSkyModel, the average amount of carbon dioxide emitted per mile on a plane is about 24 kg (Clayton, 2015). Moreover it takes about 4,970 miles to fly from Ghana to New York (Google Maps, 2015). That would mean that 119,280 kg of carbon dioxide would be effused into the air just to ship some cocoa beans from Ghana to the chocolate factory in New York. That is already a massive amount of carbon dioxide being released. Furthermore, this is just one example of one flight that it takes to transport cocoa beans to only one factory. This happens many times to many other factories of farther distances. As soon as the cocoa beans get to their factories, they start off by getting roasted on a screen. Then, they go through a machine called the cracker and fanner, which blows air so that the shell and nib would separate (Madehow.com, 2015). Then, the nibs get grinded when they go through the broyage and as a result, they become smaller and mix with oil creating this chocolate liquor (Cacaoweb.net, 2015). Then, they go through the refiner where the particles get even more smaller. Next, the liquor gets defatted and compressed between rollers until half of the fat is removed. This results in a solid material, which then gets remixed with the cocoa butter. The mix goes under conching, where it get’s mixed together until creamy. Chocolate is then poured into molds and it is packed in layers

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of aluminum foil, cardboard and plastic (Tis-gdv.de, 2015). Through this manufacturing process, a lot of carbon dioxide is released from these factories into our atmosphere (World Resource Institute, 2002). After the chocolate is made, the chocolate has to be transported into stores for us humans to buy. Chocolate is transported through ships, trucks, railroads or aircraft (Tis-gdv.de, 2015). Once again, aircraft already produces on average 24 kg of carbon dioxide per mile. Moreover, the amount of carbon dioxide emitted from ships is twice as much as the carbon dioxide being released from aircraft (Vidal and editor, 2007). Chocolate is transported to many places all over the world, hence a lot of carbon dioxide is being produced just by transporting chocolate (Sfu.ca, 2015). Products that have a big carbon footprint are products that cause problems in our world such as global warming. This is because carbon dioxide is a greenhouse gas. Every single product made, releases at least some carbon dioxide, whether it was the raw materials itself. Because more carbon dioxide is getting into our atmosphere, the Earth’s climate gets warmer since greenhouse gases trap in the infrared/heat energy in our planet. This is why we have global warming, and if it get’s warmer, bad things will start to happen to our planet, which is why it is necessary not to release the amount of carbon dioxide that we are releasing now.

Reference: Amano Chocolate, (2014). Why Don’t Cocoa Beans Grow in the US? - Amano Chocolate. [online] Available at: http://www.amanochocolate.com/faqs/dont-cocoa-beans-grow-us/ [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Anon, (2015). [online] Available at: http://www.fao.org/3/a-at551e.pdf [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Anon, (2015). [online] Available at: http://www.wri.org/sites/default/files/wri15_TECH_United_Cacao.pdf [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. Cacaoweb.net, (2015). Manufacturing chocolate. [online] Available at: http://www.cacaoweb.net/manufacturing-chocolate.html [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. Casey, T. (2008). Deforestation and Carbon Emission. [online] Deforestation.geologist-1011. net. Available at: http://deforestation.geologist-1011.net/ [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Clayton, J. (2015). 1 air mile · BlueSkyModel. [online] Blueskymodel.org. Available at: http:// blueskymodel.org/air-mile [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Gadling, (2011). 5 best chocolate factory tours around the U.S. - Gadling. [online] Available at: http://gadling.com/2011/01/28/5-best-chocolate-factory-tours-around-the-u-s/ [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Google Maps, (2015). Google Maps. [online] Available at: https://www.google. com/maps/dir/Ghana/New+York,+NY,+USA/@19.5682136,-75.6856225,3z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m13!4m12!1m5!1m1!1s0xfd75acda8dad6c7:0x54d7f230d093d236!2m2!1d -1.023194!2d7.946527!1m5!1m1!1s0x89c24fa5d33f083b:0xc80b8f06e177fe62!2m2!1d74.0059413!2d40.7127837 [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Madehow.com, (2015). How chocolate is made - material, manufacture, making, history, used, processing, product, machine. [online] Available at: http://www.madehow.com/ Volume-1/Chocolate.html [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. One Green Planet, (2015). Taking a Bite Out of the Environment: Top 10 Most Environmentally Destructive Foods. [online] Available at: http://www.onegreenplanet.org/animalsandnature/most-environmentally-destructive-foods/ [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Sfu.ca, (2015). The Production of Chocolate. [online] Available at: https://www.sfu.ca/ geog351fall03/groups-webpages/gp8/prod/prod.html [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Tis-gdv.de, (2015). Chocolate. [online] Available at: http://www.tis-gdv.de/tis_e/ware/lebensmi/schoko/schoko.htm#transport [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. Vidal, J. and editor, E. (2007). CO2 output from shipping twice as much as airlines. [online] the Guardian. Available at: http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2007/mar/03/travelsenvironmentalimpact.transportintheuk [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. World Resource Institute, (2002). [online] Available at: http://www.wri.org/sites/default/ files/wri15_TECH_United_Cacao.pdf [Accessed 16 Oct. 2015]. Xocoatl.org, (2015). All about Chocolate -- no Caffeine. [online] Available at: http://www. xocoatl.org/caffeine.htm [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015]. Xocoatl.org, (2015). All about Chocolate -- the Cacao Tree. [online] Available at: http://www. xocoatl.org/tree.htm [Accessed 15 Oct. 2015].

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UPPER MYP NON FICTION

HOW MUCH DO LITTLE FACTORS INFLUENCE FICTION? SONJA RINGGER GRADE 9

What do powerful propaganda, space exploration and a disagreeable wife have in common? The answer is simple: They all played a part in the writing of Philip K. Dick’s novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? in 1968. Philip K. Dick – born 1928, died 1982 (Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2016) – was arguably one of the most influential dystopian writers of America in the 20th century, and when looking at the life that he lived it is easy to see how the events he experienced echo in the writing of his book. Safely, one can say that the external influences and marital troubles of Philip K. Dick affected the writing of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. One of the key factors that influenced the writing of the novel was the Golden Age of Space Exploration, which Philip K. Dick lived through. In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? it is evident that humanity has mostly colonized on Mars and perfected the science of space travel. Quotes such as “The TV claimed this to be the fifth (or sixth?) anniversary of the founding of New America, the chief U.S. settlement on Mars.” (Dick, 1968, p.18) support this. The novel itself was written and published in 1968, which was in the midsts of a time period of incredible new space discoveries and coincided with some of the major events of cosmic travel. In 1957, the first 90

satellite, Sputnik 1, was sent to orbit the earth and by the end of 1961 the US and the USSR had already sent astronauts into the unexplored (Aerospace, n.d.). In 1968, all of America was looking forward to the mission that would, in 1969, land the first man on the moon. Since the book was written shortly before the ‘giant leap for mankind’, it is safe to assume that the newfound discoveries about space and the public excitement echoed in Philip K. Dick’s novel. The fact that humanity had, by the early 60s, already sent people into space influenced Dick’s writing by opening up space travel as a logical mean of transport and making the idea of leaving the ‘home planet’ in the future a reality. Philip K. Dick’s arguments with his wife also influenced the writing of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. Dick and his wife Anna got into many arguments after living happily for most of their marriage. More specifically, “The couple’s once idyllic life ended….in 1963” (Timberg, 2010). In his novel, the protagonist Rick Deckard and his wife, Iran, also share a strained relationship that is similar to the one of Philip and Anna Dick. Deckard’s wife, at one point, says she will “dial to the maximum and [Rick]’ll see a fight that makes every argument [they]’ve had up to now seem like nothing.” (Dick,

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1968, p.4). This quote shows how the fictional character and his wife argued often and heavily, just as Dick and his wife did. Dick’s marital troubles translated into the troubles of his fictional character, evident by the similar relationships that one can find between the fictional couple and Mr. and Mrs. Dick. On top of that, living through the peak of the Cold War also influenced the writing of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. The Cold War was a major decade-long conflict between the US and the USSR, through which Dick lived. The US and USSR government both cast out a large amount of propaganda and public influence, especially during the time when “The Cold War reached its peak in 1948-53.” (Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2015). In the 1968 novel propaganda is often mentioned and used by the government to influence the people remaining on Earth to emigrate. A passage in the book notes that “The saying currently blabbed by posters, TV ads, and government junk mail, ran: ‘Emigrate or degenerate! The choice is yours!’” (Dick, 1968, p.8). The fact that, during his life, Dick observed and was confronted with strong propaganda - especially during the late 40’s and early 50’s, which would have been

his early twenties - is clearly also represented within the book. In Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, propaganda tells people to either flee or become corrupted, which is a very direct and invasive message, and is exactly the type of strong propaganda that would have been used in the peak of the Cold War by the US. From this obvious link it is evident how exposure to propaganda early in his life was one of the most important influences from the author’s time that was reflected the 1968 novel. Philip K. Dick’s life strongly affected the writing of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. In particular, Dick living through the golden age of space exploration, the Cold War and a tough marital period is all represented in his book. As a reader one can only guess as to how the events of Philip K. Dick’s life influenced his writing, but, since the author’s death, one may never know the true impact and significance that those external influences had on the work of this author.

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

UPPER MYP NON FICTION

UKRAINE’S PATH TO EUROPE’S SAFER FOOD STANDARDS NIKITA TARATORIN GRADE 9

Ukraine is a rural country, where agriculture is a driving force in the country’s economy. In 2012, Ukraine has harvested over 15.7 million tons of wheat, 21 million tons of corn, 18.3 tons of sugar beet 7.9 million tons of sunflower seeds, and lots of other varieties of grains. Altogether that is 46,2 million tons of grains, and more than 22 million tons of export potential. Populations of farming animals is also growing. Over 5 million units of cattle, more than 8.1 million heads of pigs, over than 2 million units of goats and more than 239 million units of farming birds like chicken, turkey, etc. (Ministry Of Agricultural Policy And Food Of Ukraine, 2012) That is only quantity of registered animals on official farms. Numbers counting private and unofficial animals will increase the statistics in times. But in what conditions do these animals live? All around the world factory farming is pervasive problem. “Animals are crammed by the thousands into filthy, windowless sheds and stuffed into wire cages, metal crates, and other torturous devices” (PETA, 2015). A lot of times these cases happen because a lot of corporations want to make more money by fitting in as many animals as possible in one place (PETA, 2015). Factory farming, is simply big scale farming. Most of the times we can find multiple violations of sanitary norms. But is it actually profitable? And is it worth it? Factory farming is not only bad to the animals, it is also hazardous to humans. Abusive use of antibiotics gives a chance to the antibiotic resistant bacteria to mutate, and overcrowdedness makes disease easy to spread, and get right into our meals. “Modern meat production is responsible for mad cow disease, SARS, bird flu and other diseases, and animal products are also often contaminated with a bacterial 92

stew of campylobacter, salmonella, and E.-coli” (PETA, 2013). When thousands of animals are packed together, with loads of manure, bacteria may make their way into the slaughterhouses, where thousands more kilograms of meat are at risk of contamination. One of the cases happened in 2010, where two egg companies caused a recall of more than half a billion potential salmonella infected eggs, all because of the presence of multiple violations of sanitary norms (Factory Farm Map, 2015). A lot of aquaculture institutions are producing products which are contaminated with mercury, as it is a costly process, to fully eradicate mercury from live organisms (PETA, 2013). Studies have shown that mass scale factory farming produces large quantities of ammonia, as well as other greenhouse gasses, which are harmfull to the environment and is toxic to humans and animals (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). According to (Koziy, 2012), it is in the producer’s interest to avoid factory farming, and transition into more natural organic farming. As factory farming creates the chance of products being dangerous. Not only the infection may be hazardous to humans, it may also be deadly for animals, which may bring a whole farm into the bankruptcy. Also when the animal is not free, caged, in stress, it lives much shorter, producing significantly smaller amounts of products, which will eventually become a problem to farming institutions. “If animals live in dysentery they will simply die” (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). But why do these institutions still exist, and what is the case in Ukraine? Ukraine was a member state of Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), where personal farming did not exist. All

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of the animals were collected together. Everyone worked for the collective result. Nobody cared about the wellness of animals, as nobody had responsibility or enthusiasm to work for someone else. In a lot of cases, work was even sabotaged by workers. But the times have changed. (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015) In Europe everything is different. New standards that forbid factory farming and support organic farming. After signing the Association Agreement with EU, Ukraine has pledged to complete reforms in order to meet the requirements for the entrance and trade with EU (Minagro. gov.ua, 2015). Fortunately EU regulations are strict and pay close attention to the buying ability and choices of EU citizens. With the trade agreement coming in place in 2016, Ukrainian government is proposing new, more strict regulations and norms regarding consumers safety (Europa.eu, 2015). The quantity of these cruel factory farms is shrinking in Ukraine according to the director of Department of Livestocks in the Ministry of Agricultural Policies of Ukraine: “I think not a lot of factory farms are left in Ukraine, yes there are some cases, but please understand that in Ukraine, animals are protected by law, so these cases occur when there is a growth boom in animal’s population on the farm.””Rare cases of bad animal conditions on farms in Ukraine is nothing more than just mismanagement and sabotage” (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). All kinds of steroids are forbidden and antibiotics should only be given in cases when the animal is severely ill. So what are the the epidemiological policies and how effective are they? The main objective of the sanitary norms proposed by Ukrainian government is the avoidance of disease flashes

and pandemics, as well as making the products safer for consumption. As the director of animal husbandry department in the Ministry of Agricultural Policies and Food of Ukraine said: ”These policies are for people’s good, if a person wants to stay safe he has to buy checked food. If a person does not care about himself, his wife and his kids, he would consume unchecked foods” (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). By their words, policies do work. To have right to sell a dairy or meat product, a person should have a certificate from the lab, that proves that the food is safe to eat. No matter if the product is sold in the supermarket chains, or normal markets. The real problem though is illegal markets, which appear randomly all over the city, with the size from 1 to 10 sellers. But it is police’s job to find, and close these kinds of markets. Policies are present even before the construction of a farm. Plans and blueprints should be checked and approved by the National Veterinary and Phytosanitary Service of Ukraine and the Ministry of Environment (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). The main governmental branch that controls and enforces the sanitary norms is The State Veterinary and Phytosanitary Service of Ukraine. It uses scientific knowledge and research to establish new norms, laws and regulations towards Ukraine’s agricultural sector. The agency also conducts checks and inspections, owns portable labs, gives out certificates which serve as licenses for import, export, selling, and advertising animal products in Ukraine. The policies include appropriate dimensions for livestock barns, waste and greenhouse gas emissions monitoring, registration of farms and companies, monitoring product’s quality. The violation of rules result in huge fines or even imprisonment (Pratsuk and Openko, 2015). 93

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One of the great examples of their work are current battles against African Pig Plague [Pestis Africana Suum]. The disease kills off pigs with symptoms like fevers, and total organ failure. The disease has a strong, protected by protein DNA, which allows it to survive freezing, pH changes, decomposition, drying, and time. The virus has a high death rate among pigs, and may evolve to be dangerous to humans due to pigs having high similarities with human organisms. Veterinary and Phytosanitary Service finds cases of plague, all over Russian, Belarusian, and Moldovan borders. They quarantine and limit the access of people to sick animals, lovering the chances of disease spreading. They eliminate any threat of the virus by eliminating contaminated organisms (Agro-business.com.ua, 2014). Policies are proven to work, but they do have advantages and disadvantages. Most of the factors are somehow tied to economics. First of all, they increase consumers safety. They significantly lower the chance of presence of antibiotics, deadly bacteria, fungi and viruses in meat and dairy products. We become more humane, as animals are placed in better

environments, being nicely treated. It gives animals more freedom, and a chance for them to move. Making them healthier and making the products they give, safer and higher quality. When it is time for them to be killed, Ukrainian law states that the company should bring them to specific, clean, modernized slaughter houses, which have CO2 rooms, where animals lose their consciousness, and donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t feel anything when the cuts are made. With that in mind, we tend to spend more on our food, and the trust to meat and dairy products increases. Knowledge may directly affect our choices. As money is drafted from any kind of legal business in Ukraine in form of taxes, us trusting the companies and buying their products is a direct support for Ukrainian economy (Kishtainy, 2012). Another positive aspect of these policies, is that Ukraine will open new market opportunities for itself. New policies were applied because of the Ukraine-EU Association agreement. When every company and farm is required to follow the sanitary norms, and host multiple inspections, the quality of products will rise up to the exporting level. More income will

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mean more available funds and investments, which will be followed by another rise of the quality and safety. It will be a cycle. “Free trade will bring Ukraine and EU closer together, making the date of Ukraine’s membership in EU closer as well” (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). Last but not least major advantage is that the policies provide extra time for businesses to adapt. There will be less pressure for small corporations and farms. This is making policies universal, as they may go well with huge corporations, and small family businesses. The likelyness of the establishment of a monopoly is decreasing (Minagro.gov. ua, 2015). Even though there are multiple positive economical factors about Ukraine’s safety policies, there are also multiple downside factors to the solution. The main, biggest problem is that the transition from old Soviet architecture to new, good for animals infrastructure, is very costly. As building bigger infrastructure is not a problem, unless there are funds. In Ukraine it is really hard to find investors, so is banks with low interest rates. Where interests for a credit may reach up to 25%. Big expenses will make small businesses go bankrupt since there are no supporting policies and insurances for small businesses, as big corporations may establish monopoly over the market (Pratsuk and Openko, 2015). Final disadvantage is almost definite raise in prices. As the products will increase in quality, new equipment to be bought, and inspection wages to be paid, the price in products is likely to grow up. Companies will be trying to cover up the costs of transitioning into new standards. This problem is relative, as it is up to the company to raise up the prices (Kvasha and Pisholka, 2015). Factory farming is a big issue in the world. To meet EU standards Ukraine has declared war against factory farming. According to specialists, factory farming is close to being eliminated in Ukraine, as the country cruises away from its Soviet past towards prosperous and safe european future. The Ukrainian government has applied certain rules and regulations which are based on biological safety. Ukraine is the country which has huge experience with battling local pandemics of swine flu, bird flu, and african pig plague, and understands how devastating it is for its agricultural

sector. The policies, which are currently present in EU, are applied in Ukraine, help avoiding dangerous outbreaks like Salmonella, SARS, and other deadly diseases. They will also provide humane handling of livestock . The following of these standards will open new markets for Ukrainian products to be traded. Trading will bring Ukraine closer to the EU, decreasing the time before Ukraine becomes a member state. It will be safer for personnel to work in the institutions and huge income boost is expected. More money will be coming in to Ukraine’s budget, improving on its economy and GDP growth. But the downside of these political and economical reforms are possible increases in prices and pressure on small businesses, as the transition (buying new equipment, building and reconstructing farms, and other), is really expensive, and needs a lot of investments. But it is believed and stated by several officials and specialists, that Ukraine and the world is moving from cruel factory farming, which is unsafe and unnatural to clean, organic, humane, and ecologically friendly farming. Making the world better, more harmonic place.

Bibliography: Agro-business.com.ua, (2014). Африканська чума свиней. [online] Available at: http:// www.agro-business.com.ua/suchasne-tvarynnytstvo/2079-afrykanska-chuma-svynei.html [Accessed 22 Nov. 2015]. Europa.eu, (2015). EU-Ukraine Association Agreement – “Guide to Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade”. Brussels: European Union. Eurostat, (2015). Certified organic crop area by crops products. Brussels: http://appsso. eurostat.ec.europa.eu/nui/show.do. Factory Farm Map, (2015). What’s Wrong With Factory Farms? - Factory Farm Map. [online] Available at: http://www.factoryfarmmap.org/problems/ [Accessed 22 Nov. 2015]. Kishtainy, N. (2012). The Economics Book. London: Dorling Kindersley. Koziy, V. (2012). Animal Welfare. Bila Tserkva: Ministry of Agrarian Policy and Food of Ukraine, pp.84-255. Kvasha, M. and Pisholka, V. (2015). Epidemiological Control of Farms in Ukraine. Minagro.gov.ua, (2015). Програми розвитку АПК | Офіційний сайт міністерства аграрної політики та продовольства України. [online] Available at: http://minagro.gov. ua/apk?nid=18280 [Accessed 22 Nov. 2015]. Ministry Of Agricultural Policy And Food Of Ukraine, (2012). Agrarian Complex- Locomotive of Homelands Economy. Kyiv: Ministry Of Agricultural Policy And Food Of Ukraine, pp.2-24. PETA, (2013). Official “Glass Walls” Video by Paul McCartney. [video] Available at: https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql8xkSYvwJs [Accessed 22 Nov. 2015]. PETA, (2015). Factory Farming: Misery for Animals. [online] Available at: http://www.peta. org/issues/animals-used-for-food/factory-farming/ [Accessed 22 Nov. 2015]. Pratsuk, A. and Openko, D. (2015). Factory Farming in Ukraine.

GRADE 12

OLIVER JAHN

Growls ripple across the valley, A thousand breaths with a single voice. A unifying thought of despair Leaving behind no choice. The cold traps and kills a thousand; The heat enrages a thousand more. A cacophony of screaming, indecipherable in the mass. A dwindling hope for what’s in store,

GRADE 12

Working for hours sustains half a life. A half, to be shared amongst ten. All that is made is stolen in haste, And if they survive they must work once again.

OLIVER JAHN

NEVER

D P P O E T RY

HUNGER

D P P O E T RY

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

When the oceans are dry and they’re no longer blue, When the African elephant forgets what it knew, When the day comes your face no longer helps me through, That’s the day that I’ll stop loving you. When the sloth never sleeps and the stork doesn’t fly, When the pandas don’t eat and the US hates pie, When the thought of you leaving does not make me cry, That’s the day I’ll say goodbye. When the day comes I no longer tell you you’re Perfect, When returning to you, no longer feels worth it, When all of our memories I start to regret, That’s the day I’ll try to forget. When the day comes that our embraces you tire of, When talking to me you would rather be free of, When you leave me and tears fall like rain from above, With you, I’ll still never stop being in love.

OLIVER JAHN

GRADE 12

OLIVER JAHN

GRADE 12

VEINS

SLEEP

D P P O E T RY D P P O E T RY

A L E X A N D E R L I T E R A R Y AWA R D C O N T E S T S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 â&#x20AC;¢ D P

Colours Change, Leaves Fall, At the Doors of Death. Shadows Creep, Eternal Sleep Taking the Last Breath. Time is Slowing to a Stop, Life is Quickly Leaving. The Hope Remaining Seeps Away, In this Autumn Season.

Every day the tree grew, Fuelled by the thick water it drank. Driven by words of every hue Enveloping what once was blank. Every hour it continues to grow Powered by the everlasting flow. A cruel, twisted, hope-void reminder Of past, present, and future failure. Each action and thought a new leaf Creating the most living thing around. In an endless winter of grief A shocking scrapbook of pain and emotion bound.

GRADE 12

OLIVER JAHN

A NEW LIGHT

D P P O E T RY

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

It’s a strange thing: anger; It leads to hate, violence, even passion. Thoughts are clouded and controlled by anger, Rash decisions led by frustration. It’s a strange thing to hate your friends. The ones supposed to make you happy. To feel like they’ve stabbed you in the back To turn cold and snappy. It’s a strange thing to fight your loved ones. The ones you’d usually give your life for. It takes no more than a spark to happen once to turn love into abhor.

GRADE 12

OLIVER JAHN

ROUTINE

D P P O E T RY

It’s a strange thing to love your enemy: The cause of sufferance and pain. to see a new light above them and think of them day after day.

A life filled with the joy of colourless hues. Throwing me into a game that I’m destined to lose. A knife turns and leaps at me Guiding me into a state of agonising ecstasy. A temporary vaccine to the parasite taking over. Setting out to destroy all traces within. Taking the pain and myself out in the fire As my body fills with the painful rush of endorphins and adrenalin. Stacked neatly on my wall. Temporary stains across the canvas crawl. The constant cold disappears, as heat begins to spread And the sheet once tinted blue, now tainted red. What started cold and calculated A nervous, shaking, test. Now desperate with my hands weighted, The pain now put to rest. The need, for now, is put to sleep A drowsiness ensues. The calling soon returns to reap And leave my soul to ooze.

A L E X A N D E R L I T E R A R Y AWA R D C O N T E S T S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • D P

GRADE 12

OLIVER JAHN

FINE

D P P O E T RY

L A R A A R E N C I B I A- P E N D E R , E M OT I O N A L S P E C T R U M , 2 0 1 6 O I L PA S T E L , C O LO R PA P E R

Does anyone ever want an answer when they ask; How are you? Empty words for them to feel good, while you’re dying inside. A ruse to release the pressure of responsibility anew, Satisfied, every time you reply with a lie. When people ask; How are you? What should you answer? Should you lie as usual and say you’re fine, or finally tell the truth? That you are dying inside, and don’t want to live any longer, That you want to forget, and leave behind your youth. Why is it that we are afraid to show our emotions? Why must we always hide behind the word fine in life? What brought about this foolish notion? Which prompts indifference in the face of strife. Too often, I have tried to tell people the truth, only to be told to grow up. So many times I hoped someone could help, but no one cared. In times of sadness and pain, I was told to join the club, and so, I hide myself, my true thoughts only free in prayer. 99

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

DP PROSE

BLIND OLIVER JAHN

I’m a feminist, in fact, I believe that most of the people in the world are feminists. I don’t mean the advertised women who fight to prove that women are better than men, or people who support the notion that women are the only ones needing to be empowered in the world. Here is my definition of feminism, the one that I think most people fit into, and if they don’t, I hope that they change that; Feminism is the belief that everyone is equal in the world regardless of gender. Call yourself, feminist, egalitarian, or simply someone who believes in equality but you are saying the same thing, at least, when you look at the heart of each of these movements. The problem in the world isn’t that we can’t reach this. It is that we believe that equality is the solution to our problem. The world needs equality desperately, but it is only the first step to solving the problem we are faced with. The final step is gender blindness; when the world can look at a someone and not take their gender into account whether they be male, female, agender, bi, pan, cis, whatever. Only when the world is blind to gender will we truly be free to be ourselves without restraint. People will not need to live in fear of fitting into the norm, nor will there be any gender preconceptions, and finally, everyone can truly say that they are equal. 100

A N N A N I K O N O VA , M E ! , 2 0 1 5 , A C R Y L I C P A I N T O N P A P E R

GRADE 12

A L E X A N D E R L I T E R A R Y AWA R D C O N T E S T S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • D P

DP PROSE

DESTINY OLIVER JAHN GRADE 12

The forest was dark; almost as if the trees absorbed any light that passed by, leaving only black behind. The only light present was a faint flicker coming from the end of a cave hidden beneath the canopy. A lone figure walked towards the fire with a strong hunch and a slight limp. The figure wore a long grey cloak with the hood pulled up masking their face and causing them to blend into the darkness. As the figure got closer to the source of light their shadow was cast onto the cold grey walls of the cave that grew larger and more terrifying with each step. Having shambled all the way to the fire the figure found itself in a small cavern of rock that was given an orange tint by the turbulent fire in the centre. Two figures stood around the fire and the lone figure took its place around the fire. Simultaneously the three figures removed their hoods revealing three women that looked ancient beyond belief. They each had long grey hair that was tangled and filled with knots, wrinkled faces that looked as though their faces were slowly melting off, and pitch black eyes that hid the secrets of the world. “Welcome sister” the two women spoke with voices eerily similar to the sound made by a growling dog: a very low, throaty, scraping noise. The third sister nodded her head and spoke. “We all know why we are here. A new child has been born and as such, her fate must be decided. As the fates, we must make sure that she follows the rules we make and that her future is secure. We must let the will of fate be her guide.” When she finished, the three fates looked at each other and in an instant flashed away in a cloud of smoke. They appeared

halfway across the world around a small white and pink cradle. They looked down to see a small baby fast asleep. The baby emitted a slight glow invisible to the naked eye, but a beacon to the fates. Looking at each other the three fates nodded and began chanting quietly. “Child of the Earth, receive our blessing. Follow the rules of fate and grow only as fate permits it. live a life happy and peaceful, following the path made for you. Follow our rules and you will be joyful but heed our warning; Should you not prove to be deserving of the future given to you and be unwilling to be lead by destiny, your future will forever be barred from you and your fate will be a cruel one.” When the last word was said the fates reached into the cradle and pulled out a strand of the babies short hair and once again turned into smoke and reappeared back in their cave. Almost immediately after the fates left the baby’s glow disappeared and as if awoken by the change, the baby began crying. The fates sat in a corner on stools and smiled before summoning the loom of fate where the past, present, and future was all depicted on a giant, ever-changing tapestry of coloured golden threads. The three of them took the strand of hair and magically turned it into a long thread of gold and immediately began to add the girls future to the tapestry while laughing. Long into the night, they continued, the only sound being their laughs, that sounded like tortured souls attempting to escape an eternal prison of darkness.

101

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DP PROSE

UNSPOKEN OLIVER JAHN GRADE 12

I don’t know why it’s easier to say the words on paper. Perhaps it is because I know you won’t say anything back. I used to stay awake for nights on end, imagining our future conversations. You would ask me why I looked so tired and I’d always give the same answer; homework. I’d never tell you that I’d lost track of time, countless scenarios flying through my head. Each with the same theme, the same message, the same thought; I love you. Every day I would wake up tired, fight with my parents and go to school with a scowl. I’d walk through the halls and sit in class with a fake smile. Until you walked in and replaced it with a real one. I’m not sure you noticed but I would always try to be around you; group projects, sports, activities, trips. I’d always let you take the lead and yet, I would never really talk to you. I knew that if I ever tried I would say something and you would know that I can’t stop thinking about you, even now as I am writing this. Each stroke on the white canvas reminds me of your features; your soft gentle hair, your curled eyelashes, the sparkle in your eyes when you smile. 102

I always admired you and never stopped imagining our future together. A future that will never come to pass. I always thought of telling you but never did, and now, it’s too late. I guess you may never know, and I can’t decide which is worse; the scenarios in my head of the many ways you could have rejected me, or the thought that I will never know how you would have reacted. I’ve thought of joining you, ending it and seeing you again but I know it won’t work. Even when I find you again, for I will never stop searching, I know there will be no point. Even if we have eternity, I will never find the courage to tell you the truth. And yet, I don’t know what the greater hell is; a lifetime without you? Or eternity without you knowing? And so I lay this letter with you, in hopes that you will read it wherever you are now. And I shall live my life believing in this, that I have finally told you. And when I die, it shall be with a smile, for I will join you, and I will finally see if there ever was a future for us. Yours Eternally.

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R I C H A S I N G L A , A N A N I M A L’ S PA I N , 2016 I N K O N WAT E R C O L O R P A P E R

103

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104

INK STAINS PRIMARY SCHOOL

SUMMER 2016

AN IB WORLD SCHOOL SINCE 2000

A PLACE WHERE WE BELONG

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

CONTENT 4

FOREWORDS PSI YOUNG AUTHOR’S AWARD WINNERS 2016 KG - G 2

G 3-5

POETRY WINNERS

NARRATIVE WINNERS

FRONT COVER: ANNE PURCELL, GRADE 2

TS 30

PSI YOUNG AUTHORâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S AWARD SUBMISSIONS 2016 KG - G 2

POETRY

G 3-5 86

POETRY

103 NARRATIVE

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FOREWO Dear Reader, In this 20th anniversary year of PSI we have seen a record number of entries in both primary and secondary school for the Alexander Literary Award and the PSI Young Author’s Award, demonstrating our students’ passion for literature. As a result this issue of Ink Stains is the largest ever, allowing us to accommodate all submissions. Students have successfully juggled the demands of academics, sports, and the arts and found time to create original, well planned and presented entries for the magazine. We congratulate all participants, particularly the winners of each category which were judged by a panel of teachers and students. Our students’ creative talent is reflected in the quality of the literature and art presented in this edition. We would also like to thank the Primary school teachers, PYP Coordinator, English and EAL teachers who judged the competition as well as the Art and DT departments for providing the artwork. This magazine is a result of a joint effort and successful collaboration. With the holidays approaching, you will find the rich contents of this magazine exciting, interesting, entertaining and inspiring reading for lazy summer days. We hope that this year’s variety of genres have sown the seeds to inspire budding new authors to enter next year.

PAM YORK AND POLINA SPENCER PSI Librarians

ORDS This yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Young Authors Awards saw a dramatic increase in the number of entries, a clear indication that writing is loved at PSI. With close to 80 different entries in the primary school, how to fairly judge all of these needed to be decided upon. A judging panel of 2 students from each Grade level (3-5) along with 4 staff members, spent an intensive week reading and evaluating all entries. Congratulations to all winners and a big thank you to those who offered to be part of the judging panel Ece Alkan, Bhamini Khandige, Will Von Beckerath, Adam Aronson, Bhanavi Khandige, Isla Randall, Mr Palmer, Ms Sarah, Ms Cannon and Mr Reardon. We hope you enjoy reading the work in this yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s copy of Ink Stains and we look forward to another successful year of writing at PSI in 2017-18.

BRYAN REARDON Organiser Young Authors Awards.

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

KG - G2

04 01

02 03

01. 02. 03. 04. 05.

MARIIA ZHURZHII ARINA SHULMEYSTER ANJELIKA KUMAR ILIAN BUGASOV YAROSLAV KRUPCHAK

06. 07. 08. 09.

SELMA LISSVIK EMMALEINE SCHMIDT THOMAS LYNN DARIA BURMA

G3 - 5

09 12

06 03

11 04

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06.

BHAMINI KHANDIGE ECE ALKAN JULIET GEERS JEFFREY TOKO KATYA NOVIKOVA ISLA RANDALL

07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12.

SONYA STOLAR BHANAVI KHANDIGE MARIUS VEAUX ADAM ARONSON WILL VON BECKERATH ANASTASIYA KRUPCHAK

13. 14. 15. 16. 17.

SASHA ZHYGALKINA KARINA GLADKA SOFIYA KRUPCHAK INDY BURNS NASTYA TOLSTAYA

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

PSI YOUNG A AWARD W 2016 KG - G 2

N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

KG - G 2 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

1st Place 10 ON MARCH THE 1ST Maria Zhurzhii 2S

1st Place 11 WINTER Arina Shulmeyster 2S

1st place 12 THE SUGARPLUM FAIRY AND THE RAINBOW VILLAGEW Emma Schmidt 1L 2nd Place 14 THE BOY WHO GOES TO THE FOREST Yaroslav Krupchak 1L 3rd Place 19 HA Faith Hall 2L

AUTHORâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S WINNERS G 3-5

G 3-5

P O E T RY W I N N E R S

N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

1st place 21 CHICKEN POX Indy Burns 4A

1st Place Grade 3 28 THE CRIME MYSTERY Bhanavi Khandige 3L

2nd place 22 POEMS Sofiya Krupchak 3L

1st Place Grade 4 29 JURASSIC WARS #1. THE FATE OF THE GALAXY Marius Veaux, Adam Aronson, Ivan Rusyn, Jeffrey Toko, Haiar Isliamov 4A

3rd place 26 POEMS Karina Gladka 5B

1st Place Grade 5 40 BECOME LIKE ME Alexandra Zhygalkina 5B

2nd Place Grade 3 42 WATER PARK IN THAILAND 44 QUEST 46 THE GIRL IN THE CUP Nastya Tolmacheva 3L 2nd Place Grade 4 51 RUNAWAY Katya Novikova 4H and Juliet Geers 4A 2nd Place Grade 5 52 THE SECRET CAMP Anastasia Krupchak 5R

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

KG – G 2 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

ON MARCH THE 1ST MARIA ZHURZHII GRADE 2S

PLACE 1 ST

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 P O E T R Y

KG – G 2 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

WINTER ARINA SHULMEYSTER GRADE 2S

1 ST PLACE

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

KG - G 2 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

THE SUGARPLUM FAIRY AND THE RAINBOW EMMA SCHMIDT GRADE 1L

PLACE 1 ST

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

KG - G 2 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

THE BOY WHO GOES TO THE FOREST YAROSLAV KRUPCHAK GRADE 1L

PLACE 2 ND

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

ANDREA NORBERG, GRADE 4

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

KG - G 2 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

HA FAITH HALL GRADE 2L

3 RD PLACE

KAIDEN KENWORTHY, GRADE 4

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

G 3-5 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

CHICKEN POX INDY BURNS GRADE 4A

1 ST PLACE

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

POEMS SOFIYA KRUPCHAK GRADE 3S

2 ND PLACE

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 P O E T RY W I N N E R S

POEMS KARINA GLADKA GRADE 5B

3 RD PLACE

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

THE CRIME MYSTERY BHANAVI KHANDIGE GRADE 3L

PLACE GRADE 3 1 ST

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

JURASSIC WARS #1 MARIUS VEAUX, ADAM ARONSON, IVAN RUSYN, JEFFREY TOKO, HAIAR ISLIAMOV GRADE 4A

PLACE GRADE 4 1 ST

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

BECOME LIKE ME ALEXANDRA ZHYGALKINA GRADE 5B

PLACE GRADE 5 1 ST

CHAPTER 1 Once upon a time! Wait what? Ok, let me start normally. I used to live in a very nice city called Budapest. I, as a 14 year old teen, loved to go to the city eye wheel; it reminded me of the time I was in London with my family. Now I am 17, and I live in Tokyo. It isn’t for the rest of my life, I have to live here only 4 more years until I finish studying IT technologies in the university. My father wanted me to become a doctor, but I faint at the first sight of blood. On the other side, my mother wanted to become a teacher but when she finished university I was born. Three years later my younger brother and sister were born. My mom wanted me at least to become 40

a teacher like she dreamed to. But I didn’t want to follow any of parent’s dreams. Japanese people think I look cute and that I came from an anime planet. Well I know the truth. My name is Alex and I am a girl. I really hate when people say that Alex is a boy’s name. However, in Japan people call me AREKKUSU and they say that I am supposed to be Alexandra, but I hate when people call me like that. I have a friend Naomi. She is 15/16 japanese and 1/16 Chinese. Naomi has quite a strange taste. She prefers to eat raw fish not only in sushi, but in almost everything that has fish. She is quite strange but she is still my friend no matter what. My parents used to say that she gave me a bad example. Well let’s finish with my friends and talk about me. I remember that the month before my birthday was the most exciting month for me. Me and my mom used to play the bowling game. My father would take me to the actual bowling place and we would have lots of fun with throwing the bowling ball. I can clearly remember that before my 15th birthday my parents never gave me any presents except a big box and a quote in there. “A perfect present is your life”. I always wondered about what that could mean. My aunt used to say that her favorite person was Abraham Lincoln. She always thought that his quote “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years”. She used to say to me that one year of colorful moments equals 5 years of boring life. She told me that you live your full life and imagine that there will be no tomorrow.

CHAPTER 2 It was the day before my 18th birthday. I was sitting on a public bus and it was almost my stop. I was about to get off the bus, when I realised there was a man looking at me. It was a strange sight, not normal. When I got out off the bus, the man also got out. When the bus left, the man picked me up and put me in a big bag. I could feel that he tried to carry me carefully. During that time I have thought about the things

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I made through my life. I remembered like I helped my mom to clean up after all dinners we had at our house. I remember how I helped my father to repair our car. I can also remember how I played with my siblings when they were younger. At that moment I understood what did that quote mean. I understood the meaning of life. When the thief and I got to their place there was a whole band of young men under 25. They were dressed in black shirts and yellow pants. If I wouldn’t know that they were thieves, I would say that they looked like “The beatles”. I couldn’t explain my feelings but I felt like their place was a luxury restaurant. They had a comfy couch and a big plasma TV. For a while I forgot that I was kidnapped, I would even say stolen. They asked if I wanted tea and made me sandwiches with tuna. After a while of this great luxury service, one of the thieves came out and said “we are here not to kidnap, we are here to make you understand your life”. I was worried about his words. I felt like I was here alone and no one could understand me. Then I saw two siblings coming out of the same bag as I was. Their faces said only 2 things: “why are we here?” and “this place is awesome”. I really wanted to know who they are. I asked one simple question. “What are your names.”. They looked extremely shocked. The boy answered “I am Joe, and this is my sister Vanilla”.

CHAPTER 3 Joe and Vanilla looked a bit shy, to say anything else. I was brave enough to say something. But I had no idea what to say. Then I remembered that it was the day before my 18th birthday. I said “Hey! I am Alex.” Vanilla said to me “Nice to meet you While Joe was exploring on how bouncy was the couch. I understood that Vanilla wanted to know more details about me. So I said “You know, tomorrow I am turning 18.” Vanilla was totally surprised. She asked me “are you sure that you are turning 18? You are way too short!”. Yeah I am 5 feet and 2 inches long (158cm). After three hours of this luxury service and the man came out. He looked almost like the rest of the gang, except his pants were black and his shirt was yellow. He was under 25 and had blonde hair. He made an announcement “One of you is allowed to leave us”. I was the volunteer to get out. I asked if I could leave and they put me in a room with no doors and no windows. The room was dark and huge. After a while there was a door that appeared magically. I went through that door and saw a normal street of Tokyo. Just in case, I ran along that street as fast as I could. Then, I saw a poor man trying to cross the road, I stopped and wanted to help him. When I told him “I will help you!”. He said “You are such a good person! I wish you all the best!”. I smiled

at him and said “Those are the best wishes I ever heard for mybirthday!”. He looked at me and replied “I don’t see that you are celebrating your birthday very excitingly. Let’s go to my house. My wife has made an apple pie. Do you want to?”. I was very surprised that at least someone decided to make my birthday better. His house was very huge. When I got inside, it felt like it was a castle. I saw a tiny room in the end of the corridor, then the man said “go to the kitchen. It is the room at the end of the corridor.” I went to the kitchen and saw an apple pie. His wife was making tea. She saw me and she was quite shocked. Then the old man came in. They told me many things. The old man’s name was Ben, and his wife was Acy. Ben had an idea to make me a surprise. He ran upstairs and got me a scarf to cover up my face. Then he made me go somewhere. With my eyes closed I went to a huge room.

CHAPTER 4 When I opened my eyes I saw a black curtain. When the curtain got pulled down, I saw my father and my mother. They said because it is my 18th birthday, I deserve a dream birthday party. They also gave me a box. It wasn’t that huge but I thought that there was a quote, when I opened the box I saw car keys. I yelled as loud as I could. “THANKS”. I asked my mom about the thieves and she said to me that it was done on purpose, to make me think about my life. I asked “Who are those two old humans?” My mom said “Those are your grandparents”. My birthday party was as awesome as it could ever be. At first, we were riding a limo, then we went into a luxury hotel, we partied there all night. I was sad about one thing: Naomi didn’t come. Then I heard a doorbell ringing at my door. Naomi was here. She was very sorry, who cares! I realised on how cool were my parents. It will not be continued...

AFTER THE END Now I work as a technology manager at hospital. I also teach 12th graders on some technology techniques. This story moment made me an independent problem solver. I thank my parents for this. I realize that my life is a huge present to me. I am a high requested technology manager, a lot of hospitals ask me to work at their hospital. I am also a very requested storyteller, I’ve been to most of schools in Nice. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that I moved to Nice, I work here and I am hoping to stay here forever. My siblings also live here, my brother studies medicine and my sister finished university of management skills.

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

WATER PARK IN THAILAND NASTYA TOLMACHEVA GRADE 3L

PLACE GRADE 3 2 ND

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

QUEST NASTYA TOLMACHEVA GRADE 3L

PLACE GRADE 3 2 ND

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

THE GIRL IN THE CUP

NASTYA TOLMACHEVA GRADE 3L

PLACE GRADE 3 2 ND

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

RUNAWAY KATYA NOVIKOVA

JULIET GEERS

GRADE 4H

GRADE 4A

PLACE GRADE 4 2 ND

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E W I N N E R S

THE SECRET CAMP ANASTASIA KRUPCHAK GRADE 5R

PLACE GRADE 5 2 ND

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D W I N N E R S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 N A R R AT I V E

A LVA LY T H B R A N D , G R A D E 4

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

PSI YOUNG AUTHOR’S AW SUBMISSION KG - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

G 3-5 N A R R AT I V E

WHEN I’M HAPPY Naomi Nemickas, Sofia Sheremeta, Bhanavi

CROCODILES

Khandige 3L

103

Ilian Bugasov 1L

91 68 72

POEMS

GORL AND THE MOM

Olesya Zhevago 4H, Angelina Zhevago,Julyana

THE PRINCE AND

Zhevago 4A

104

THE STORY OF RORI THE ROBINSON

Ivan Rusyn and Marius Veaux 4A

92 93 94 95

Daria Burma 1D

THE BOY WHO WANTED

DIARY OF OREO CHOCOLATE COOKIE

THE PRINCESS Anjelika Kumar 1L

MY HORSEBACK RIDING LESSON Juliana Zhevago 4A

DAYS WITH NO FREEDOM SORRY FOR MEMORIES

106

COMPETITION

THE HORSES AND THE WIND YIN AND YANG

110

THE SEA OF TEARS

BLOOD OF A SKELETON Angelina Zhevago 4A

Olesya Zhevago 4H

TO GO TO SPACE

GERA AND THE GREAT

117

HOMEWORK IS BORING!!! Christina Kostur 4A

Julyana Zhevago 4A

Thomas Lynn 1L

97 84

SELMA GETS A DOG

ANIMAL POEM

118

THE LITTLE RED DRAGON Darka Lubkivska 4H

Zofia Tombinska 3S

Selma Lissvik 1L

98 G 3-5 P O E T RY

86 87

MS. RADISH

MY EXCUSES COLLECTION:

119

100

SOLDIER’S GRAVES

WHAT SHOULD I WRITE?

STORY AT THE STABLE Lukian Khranovski 4H

Juliet Geers 4A, Katya Novikova 4H

120

PLANET FIGHT Igor Tretyak 4H

Wilhelm von Beckerath 4H

Isla Randall 3S

101 88 89

BERRY POEM THE RHYMING POEM Andrew Palmer-Verbytskiy 3S

LET’S GO! Ryan El Assaad 4H

124

THE GAME ADDICTION Misha Barinov 4H

WARD NS 2016 126 128

THE LETTER TO JELLYBEAN THE WRITING COMPETITION

150 151

Katya Novikova 4H

SUPER DUPER GRANDMA!

170

IMAGINATION LAND

Fatima Valiyeva 3S

Ece Alkan 5R

172 130

A WALK TO THE CASTLE

152

Masha Gordeeva 4A

THE MAGIC BALL

SIR SMELLY SOCKS

Will Purcell 5R

154

Juliet and Indy 4A

DREAM

THE MAGICAL WALL

158

Nikolaya Oresharova 5R

Anushka Goel 3S

MY GRANDMAâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE Ding Yifei 5B

144

THE BIG GAME AND THE SMALL

MY BUKOVEL STORY Serhiy Storchak 3L

Michael Hoyt 3S

177 142

ALIEN IN THE VILLAGE

Sonya Stolar 5B

176 134

THE SPACE ADVANTURE Zofia Tombinska 3S

174 133

MINIONS IN THE JUNGLE

160 161 162 163

EXTINCTION AND EVERYTHING

THE COW

MAGIC ERASER Kfir Schwartz 3S

BOBBY RED LITTLE BUNNY THE CAT SCREAMED DOG

178

SANTA ON CHRISTMAS EVE Naomi Anela Nemickas 3L

Andrew Palmer-Verbytskiy 3S

OPPOSITE Mark Mirimski 5R

164

BOAT TRIP TO THE END OF THE WORLD

145

SUPERHEROES

Nikhil Gupta 3L

Jadwiga Tombinska 5B

166 146

WILL THE WILLER AND THE

WHALE WATER Sandra Sikharulidze 3L

TITANIC Ivan Kulyk 5B

168

JACK IN THE JUNGLE Artem Khomutynnik 3S

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

CROCODILES ILIAN BUGASOV GRADE 1L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

GORL AND THE MOM ANJELIKA KUMAR GRADE 1L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

THE PRINCE AND THE PRINCESS ANJELIKA KUMAR GRADE 1L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

THE STORY OF RORI THE ROBINSON DARIA BURMA GRADE 1D

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

THE BOY WHO WANTED TO GO TO SPACE THOMAS LYNN GRADE 1L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

SELMA GETS A DOG SELMA LISSVIK GRADE 1L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • K G - G 2 N A R R AT I V E

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

MS. RADISH ISLA RANDALL GRADE 3S

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

SOLDIER’S GRAVES ISLA RANDALL GRADE 3S

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

BERRY POEM ANDREW PALMER-VERBYTSKIY GRADE 3S

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

THE RHYMING POEM ANDREW PALMER-VERBYTSKIY GRADE 3S

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

WHEN I’M HAPPY NAOMI NEMICKAS, SOFIA SHEREMETA, BHANAVI KHANDIGE GRADE 3L

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

POEMS OLESYA ZHEVAGO, ANGELINA ZHEVAGO, JULYANA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

DAYS WITH NO FREEDOM OLESYA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4H

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

SORRY FOR MEMORIES OLESYA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4H

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

THE HORSES AND THE WIND OLESYA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4H

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

YIN AND YANG OLESYA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4H

I N K S TA I N S â&#x20AC;¢ P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

THE SEA OF TEARS JULIANA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4A

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

ANIMAL POEM ZOFIA TOMBINSKA GRADE 3S

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

MY EXCUSES COLLECTION: JULIET GEERS

KATYA NOVIKOVA

GRADE 4A

GRADE 4H

Broccoli excuse “What’s for dinner today?” Pizza, French fries, sausages, chips, or eggs with bacon or maybe sush“Walt what what’s that you say? It’s broccoli again? I can’t eat that!” “But darling, greens are healthy,” my mum innocently says. “Oh yeah?” I say, “then why don’t you let me eat green ice cream or green candy or green biscuits for dinner today?” “No,” mum states. “But mum,” I say “Broccoli is dangerous” “it will make me sick it will make me throw up and head lice will come pimples will strike and fever will come, then I won’t be able to go to school tomorrow!” And my mum says, “Well here’s your green ice cream then!”

Homework excuse Homework is such a pain in the butt I cannot do it on Saturday, Sunday or any other any other day On Monday I say “I got soccer today” “So maybe tomorrow” On Tuesday I say “Gymnastics today” “maybe tomorrow” On Wednesday I say “I got swimming today” “maybe tomorrow” On Thursday I say “Got chess club today” “So maybe tomorrow” “Friday is hand-in homework day” To my teacher I say “I couldn’t do my homework because my mum signed me up for too many after school activities!”

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

Bedtime excuse 9 p.m! It’s time for bed. But I don’t want to sleep Just close your eyes and count to ten and..........DREAM (says mum) Then my mum left the room Wait mum I call I need a drink Okay she says okay I need to use the lavatory Okay she says okay I’m hungry mum could I have some food? Okay she says okay And in a very dark,dark mood she tries to leave the But mum Again I call I forgot to shower and brush my teeth WHATEVER mum bursts out I REALLY DO NOT CARE Then she said to me You can go to bed at ten today If that’s NOT enough time Eleven today eleven p.m. just DON’T come up to me again And that’s how you get to go to bed 2 hours later

I N K S TA I N S • P R I M A R Y S C H O O L

WHAT SHOULD I WRITE? WILHELM VON BECKERATH GRADE 4H

What Should I write? I don’t know what to write. Maybe beavers maybe Platypuses. Maybe..... I know what to write about. What should I write.

100

P S I Y O U N G A U T H O R ’ S AWA R D S U B M I S S I O N S 2 0 1 6 • G 3 - 5 P O E T R Y

LET’S GO! RYAN EL ASSAAD GRADE 4H

Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Bangladesh And save the Bengal Tiger Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Lebanon And visit the Cedars Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Nepal And fly over the Himalayas Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Malaysia And play on the beautiful Beaches Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Singapore And have fun at Universal Studios Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Thailand And see the amazing Temples

Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Dubai And go to the top of Burj Khalifa Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Italy And visit the colosseum Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to France And climb the Eiffel tower Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s go to Ukraine And walk through the wheat Plains Let’s go here Let’s go there Let’s visit the WORLD!!!

101

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ANDREA NORBERG, GRADE 4

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MY HORSEBACK RIDING LESSON JULIANA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4A

On Saturday I went horseback riding. When we were changing, our teacher came and said that we would have the same horses as last time. This news made me so happy, just the thought of riding Fiord made me ecstatic. Then Olesya suddenly said that she wanted to ride Fiord today. In that same second my excitement stopped and turned into disappointment. When we were at the stables, our teachers said that we would ride the same horses as last time, and our teacher is a champion in showjumping and no one argues with her. So my heart filled with joy again and I went to Fiord’s stable to saddle him, but Fiord didn’t meet me with a warm welcome like Gera does. She is the horse Angelina usually rides, he just stood backward to me and didn’t even notice that I was there, so I needed to give him a treat for him to turn around. With saddling there was no problem, Fiord just looked at his neighbor Duce who stared back. After I saddled Fiord, we went outside and I sett down on his back and we started walking. Then I saw that our teacher was lowering the sticks on the jump. I was surprised but still continued walking. Then we trotted, did other stuff, and finally we walked again. Then our teacher called Olesya and said to come to herself. Then Olesya galloped and after that jumped through a little fence. Then Angelina and Gera did the same. I whispered to Fiord that we will be a great show jumping team. But our trainer didn’t call me after Angelina, instead she called Olesya and then again Angelina. I started to worry that I ride worse then my sisters and that I won’t jump today. That thought made me feel discouraged. But finally our trainer called me and said to change horses with Olesya. I wasn’t really happy with that news because I wanted to jump on Fiord but it was better than no jumping at all. Kesha the horse Olesya rode jumped nice but next time I want to jump on Fiord. The End!!!! 103

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DIARY OF OREO CHOCOLATE COOKIE. IVAN RUSYN AND MARIUS VEAUX GRADE 4A

Day 30. 1/2 escape. Umm, I escaped in mariuses house and ate a lot of hamster food and he didn’t see it because he was asleep with my cage door open a little so I opened it and ran for it, it was also interesting to explore his house it was to cool not to write it in my diary and I am not a wimpy hamster who writes “dear diary this dear diary that. Day 11. Sooooooooo, I got a diary, and lost ten pages ,for some reason. Day 12. Now, kids have gone wild calling me James Bond, why! What’s their problem? It’s madness gone wild! Day 14. Now I found out why they do that and one reason is that I climb my cage, again they’re WEIRD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Day 36. So, I left mariuses house and I’ve became sad because flying over entire two sofas cool but I miss marius even though he’s near me.

Day 20. A boy called William throws pencils at me for what not reasons.

Day 40. William and Haiar they are fighting and urn... They hit me.

Day 21. 1/2!? PS. That dude freaks the freak outta me! Shush He’s coming! RUN!!!!!

Day 41. My Head hUrts UHHHHHHHHHHH.

Day 24. There’s also a guy called Ivan he defends me from William who shoots me oreo the little why does William do that?! Day 27. Sorry, I forgot to mention Mr.A he’s the teacher of grade four A which means I oreo am not responsible for what people do to me for anyone except me. Day 30. YAY, Marius is taking me home I heard he had a girl hamster if it is true I am in heaven, he also has a GIANT I mean GIANT labyrinth with hidden food it has to be a good weekend wouldn’t it but, on earth. 104

Day 33. Well, I’ve had bad things were happening like marius making a ramp for me which I went on and landed on a stack of pillows soft as hay from hamster heaven but on earth, which is cool but, wierd.

Day 48. So Jeffrey took me home and let me watch Star Wars 1-6 and he wants to take me to the cinema and show me Star Wars the Force awakens I know the story and like it but not to much action in the movie. Day 49. Spoiler alert. I’m so sad Luke Skywalker turned into the new sith and why a black jedi WHY?!?!?!?! Not that I’m racist and what not, but why black jedis WHY?!?!!?!!?!?!! Seriously Lucas Films why such a torture WHY?!?!?!!?!?!?!? Day 51. But why Lucas Films why a black jedi he looks weird and why does Luke have to be the new sith, it’s so boring and not worth all the money *painful sigh*.

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Day 55. It’s Christmas YAY! I’m was waiting so long it’s also so cold I’m going to finland and I’ll ski there on tiny little hamster skis with Marius who seriously fast like me and I’ll have some hot chocolate that tastes so good. Day 58. FINLAND YAY!!! Finally Marius took me and I’m in a car going to the mountain to ski and I’m in a warm new costume ahhh so warm, the mountain looks cool I already see it WOW so high oh oh oh oh I see marius going down I’ll the same but way smaller then him and I’ll fly of a trampoline on seriously high speeds plus on tiny tiny skis that look so cute and I’m pretty bad in skiing through ye. Day 59. okayyyyyyyyyyyy people start to talk about red bob,purple bob, orange bob and grass yoga what the heck and also I love what Marius gives me it’s like sorry itili& this I’rajust eating Day 60. So who the heck is grass yoga, and, and, and, and, Marius takes me home !!!!!!!! Oh no he has another hamster and it’s a she, oh no we should be in different cages!!!!!!!! don’t want to fight with another hamster!!!!!! Day 63. YAY different cages for the first time I see a female hamster that looks particularly nice I know it’s weird But true all I want is not to be an abomination in front of her like I already was. Day 65. 0k now that this is sorted and I’m not in the same cage I need to talk about my 1st summer holiday that I’m going to go to in 1 week. I will be very happy to go there so I can rest from this colossal room that is ten times to noisy. Day 72. Few I’m finally at the airport.Oh no there is a problem they don’t want marius to bring me in the plane.So they brought these tremendous people to check if I had the Tyzzer’s disease. It took them an hour to check me and then the final result was positive. I didn’t have any disease, we were almost late for our plane!!! They calling us for the last 15 minutes.Finally we arrived and we took the 3 hours and 4 minutes flight and when we arrived we were so happy to have arrived to Tel Aviv. The next day we were going to Cyprus on a 57 minute flight so we needed to rest!!!!!!!! Day 73. We’ve made a stop in the best israelian ***** hotel, THERE IS A EVAN HAMSTER SALON WOW I didn’t know that THEY’VE EVEN GOT A HAMSTER SPA, I mean good A HAMSTER

PARK ONLY FOR HAMSTERS THAT’S NOT IT THEY HAVE A HAMSTER POOL. Day 74. 1/2. We finally arrived in Cyprus and here it is very hot. Je dois eou et de semmei!!!!!!!!!! Let’s try to find a ***** villa with a pool a sauna a jacuzzi and a spa an aquapark in the villa and every thing you want for hamsters. We found it it looks epic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This will be my favourite time of my life. Day 75. Oh, I found a place with eighteenth century wine and beer and champagne weirder than weird isn’t it wierd? also it has a cave with a swimming pool with a projector that SHOWS MOVIES OMGG. Day 77. Well there is a yacht that we’ve bought with a waterslide and a bunch of hamster food and also hamster video games that’s weird and cool in the same time also the food is so good :3 Day 79. It’s been nice but I’ve got to have a try of ice cream the best ice cream that the Jorge Armani made for me 5000 worth of bucks. That’s a ton. Day 85. It is friday I can wait to Miami and go to the best hotel with a yacht it will be amazing there will be the jacuzzi for hamsters it is so cool I have my personal chef it is amazing. Day 86. soooooooooooooo monday is the hardest day of the week I hate it because everybody sleepy Day 87. the Tuesday we went we Miami and the king with Obama and we talked with them and we get present to Obama and king of England it was clock the golden clock. After that I must to go to school oooooooooooooooooo. Day 89. Thursday is my favorite. Nobody really disturbs me and I get to ride on my personal Yacht. I got my driver and he drives my yacht. Until the Yacht started to sink and I realized it was a giant ugly grey and white hamster that had lots of sharp teeth. I swam to the shore and I was safe. Day 91. It’s been nice so I’ve made a neat house out of hay, mostly everything but the walls also I am in the UK and I’m in a school and, wait? am I? no, no no no, no!!! Day 111 Dad!!!!!!! Don’t die!!!!!!

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GERA AND THE GREAT COMPETITION ANGELINA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4A

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BLOOD OF A SKELETON ANGELINA ZHEVAGO GRADE 4A

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HOMEWORK IS BORING!!! CHRISTINA KOSTUR GRADE 4A

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THE LITTLE RED DRAGON DARKA LUBKIVSKA GRADE 4H

Once upon a time there was a little tree and on that tree grew only one green leaf. One time when autumn arrived in it’s golden leaf dress, but you know when it’s autumn every leaf starts falling off all of the trees. This one didn’t fall from the tree, it only started to turn red and stayed there until winter. When winter arrived in it’s beautiful crystal white snowflake dress, the leaf was still in it’s place on the tree. It didn’t move a tiny bit. After a couple of minutes it started shivering, and two wings popped out the leafs body, then it finally fell out off the tree and turned into a dragon, a little baby dragon. It flew up the tree and saw a little comfy hole in it. It flew in there and made himself comfy, and slept there all winter

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long until spring arrived in it’s beautiful emerald green, pink flowery dress. Then something green and pink. The red dragon woke up, jumped up and hit his head really hard, mostly out of fear. Then he opened his eyes and saw two familiar faces and shouted with happiness, “FRIENDS! old good friends long time no see!” In front of his eyes were Katy and Olesya the bright pink and green dragons. They were the same dragons as the red one only different colors. He was really happy to see his old, best friends once again. They packed their bags took some food, something to sleep on and a blanket. When they were all ready to travel they wished good luck to each other and went in different directions.

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STORY AT THE STABLE LUKIAN KHRANOVSKI GRADE 4H

One sunny day at the stable in London it was a very good day, because in the morning trainer John said to his pupils that they are starting to train for the competition. He has three pupils Jane, Sarah and Aleksandra. They all love jumping and they all love their horses. They have own horses , Jane hasDream, Sarah has- Lucky boy and Aleksandra has- Clinton, the biggest horse in the stable. They will have 7 trainings before the competition and all of them are jumping trainings. At the first training Jane, Sarah and Aleksandra will not jump high, but on the last day they will jump a very high course. The competition will be on 25th January. It’s the first training. They are jumping. Jane and Sarah are jumping well, but Aleksandra is nervous and she wants to do everything fast. It’s very bad. Today is 24th January. It is the last training day. The horses and pupils are jumping very high course. Aleksandra sees that Jane and Sarah are jumping very well, but she wants to win the competition. Now is 9.00pm, Jane and Sarah are going to

bed, but not Aleksandra. She has a very bad plan of how to win the competition. Aleksandra is at the stable. She is going to Jane and Sarah’s horses with a bucket. There is a poison in it. She is giving it to Dream and Lucky-Boy. They think that this is good food, and they eat it. Today is 25th January. It’s competition day. Riders are at the stable. Jane and Sarah are crying because their horses are poisoned. John is saying to them, “Don’t cry you can jump with my horses.” All the people at the stable know that John’s horses are the best at the stable. It’s time for the competition. They walk with their horses into the horse box and drive to the competition. Now the competition is over. Jane and Sarah win the competition because good people always beat, bad people. Please be very good. Don’t listen to bad people. And don’t forget, you will only win if you play fairly and try your best!

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PLANET FIGHT IGOR TRETIAK GRADE 4H

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THE GAME ADDICTION MISHA BARINOV GRADE 4H

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THE LETTER TO JELLYBEAN KATYA NOVIKOVA GRADE 4H

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THE WRITING COMPETITION KATYA NOVIKOVA GRADE 4H

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A WALK TO THE CASTLE MASHA GORDEEVA GRADE 4A

On my fall holidays we went to Impruneta. Impruneta is a small city on hills of Florence. With my father and his friend Sasha. My father is tall, but not tall as Sasha. My father is bald. He has gray fleece and a red red vest. Sasha is very tall. He has brown eyes. And black hair. He has black clothes. We needed to go and buy meat and steaks for dinner. Then we bought meat and steaks. We came home for 5 minutes to get my iPhone and water bottles. Sasha went into the house to take all of those things. Me and my father were taking pictures. My father said that, this is my best photo in the world!

Before we went out of the gate, to the road we had an argument with my father and Sasha. Sasha said, ”We will go for a walk only if you will not be tired.” I said, ‘’Okay I will try to not be tired.” So we opened the gate,and we went on the road, we ail turned to the left. We wanted to go along a forest path,but we had not a lot of time. Because in 45 minutes the sunset would begin. We noticed that because, Sasha iPhone saidthat the sunset would be in 45 minutes. So we didn’t go inside the forest path. We were walking on the road. We went for 15

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minutes, and then I said,” Look, we are standing here, and there is the castle.” Sasha said, ” I think we need to go home, because we don’t have time to go to the castle, you showed that the castle is there, and we are here, that is a long time to walk.”

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We went on the left side, of the road. Because we needed to see where the cars were going. We walked for 5 minutes on the road. There was a turn to the left and we followed it. We needed to go go to the right, but there was a red string. But when i was last time there, I saw this string too. So we jumped over it. When we crossed the red string, it went inside a beautiful long forest. Sasha said. “ Okay, we have 3 water bottles, our iPhones, these backpack, and in our iPhones we have a flash lighter. So these are all things that we have for a walk at night.” I said, “ We have to walk some were 15-30 minutes. And I am not scared of the dark forest, I know that tomorrow we will be going to Kyiv.” So we went further. On the right side of use, it were trees and bushes. On the left side of use there was a gray sharp gate. The sharp corners were pointing away from the right side, where we were walking. I said, “ This gate is for boars and wolves that are on the side where we are walking right now.” Sasha said, ” The sharp corners are showing on the right side, where we are walking right now.” Then we went a bit further. And then we saw footprints. On the mud. Those are the footprints of boars” Sasha said.

I was a bit scared because the sunset would be in 15 minutes, and they come out in the dark. I was already tired, but i promised. My father was already near the gate of the castle. I was with Sasha like 30 meters away. Then we stopped with Sasha because , I wanted to take the photo of the castle and the grapes. So I asked Sasha to do it because, I am not that tall. My father already was on top of the hill. There was a stone road. My father was on his phone. And I was walking with Sasha uphill.

This is Sasha.

Then we too were up on the hill. My father went somewhere and then came back in 1 minute. My father said, “Come with me, it’s a very beautiful place here.” So we went there. I saw the castle more closely. And I saw a small hill, and the sun was going down. The sun rays were falling on the gapes very beautiful. I can’t tell tell you how beautiful it was! My face was also shining like the sun, that was going down to sleep. The sun was tired of shining all day, so the sun was very happy to fall asleep. Then we took some photos, and went out of this place. And went on a stone road. So we said, ‘* Bye, bye.” 131

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To the castle. This stone road leads you to Impruneta. We went a little further. And there we saw somebody’s house and there were two dogs. One fluffy, and big and tall. And the second one was a small terrier. We went five meters forward. And the dogs too ran forward. I was playing with the nice fluffy cutie doggie. She was taller then me by 1 cm. The dog was 140 cm. My father and Sasha were taking a lot of photos of me with the dog. We didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy. And which was the breed. She or he was a white mixed with brown

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colored fur. The doggie was very cute. I played with her or him or her for 10-15 minutes. “ We already need to go to Impruneta 11 Sasha said. So i said “ Good bye, doggie.” We went on the stone road. I showed where to go. And that was the right way to go. We walked for 10 minutes. And then we were at our house. And the next day we went to Kyiv. The End!!!!!!!!!!!!

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SIR SMELLY SOCKS JULIET GEERS AND INDY BURNS GRADE 4A

Once there was a man named Sir Smelly Socks Rotten Egg Bad Marshmallow Yucky Cold Sausage. He had a wife named Snoring Tuna Fish Ball of Yarn Warm Apple Core Butt. They had three children: the first one was named Jar of Mashed Strawberries and Cream. The second one was named Pork Meat Chicken Loser. The third one was named Soggy Cold Nachos. One day Pork Meat Chicken Loser was playing football with his friends. The ball fell down the hill he ran after it. When he reached the ball above him was a big humongous colorful portal. When he woke up he was in a forest of predators... IN CANDY LAND!!! When Runway Kid was in the forest he felt hungry and he saw a lollipop so he licked it. Then his tongue was stuck to it then a hedgehog came and sprayed him in hot chocolate it was yummy but poisonous. He got dizzy and fell to the ground. When he woke up he was tied to a cotton candy

tree. Near him was a black fire. And all the trees were burned down. Suddenly a big fat gummy bear came in and lost his balance and fell into the fire. He burned his butt. And then out of nowhere a army of big fat army of gummy bears in all different flavors came in Strawberry, Orange .Pineapple, Apple and Banana. Back at home parents were watching news about their lost boy, his mom was crying her head off and his dad said, “It’s okay, we’ll just get another one from the orphanage.” Runaway’s brothers were so sick of their parents so they went to look for their brother. That night Runaway’s brothers found their way to Candyland but their brother found their way out. TO BE CONTINUED

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THE MAGICAL WALL NIKOLAYA ORESHAROVA GRADE 5R

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MARK LIRNYK, GRADE 2S

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HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE DING YIFEI GRADE 5B

WARNING: This book was cursed by the witch that lives next door. Please DO NOT read it if you have Tearophenia or WHC (Weak Heart Condition). Always put your Teddy Bear and Napkins next to you in case the sad spell is working, until then, take care. Hello From The Other Side By Ding Wizard

By Ding Wizard Edit by Nikolaya

To My best Friend Augusts Who Brought Me Hopes. Once there was a “Weirdo” in my school. His name was Tiramisu. I was his only friend. He wears a dress with an ancient Chinese coin pattern on it, a mask of a cat face and a hat that has a fake deer horn on top, tied with a darkest blue ribbon. He also wears a huge bow tie, it’s so hard for him that he even can’t run fast, but he is really strong and light. This story is how I met him: “My Grandma is a Witch, and this is what she left me when she came and visited.” said Tiramisu, showing his pocket 142

watch. “HA! HA! HA! HA! Your Grandma is a Witch? ‘Oh! No! I’m so scared!’ You weirdo stop show off at every one that you are a weirdo! ‘I’m so jealous!” Fred Laughed, he was the “Coolest” kid in whole Primary School. “Fred is right” said Mrs.R, She was the classroom teacher. “I will have this.” she pointed at the pocket watch. “No! Never!” shouted Tiramisu as he ran away. “Tiramisu!” I called. “Ding Wiz just let him go.” said Fred. But I didn’t listen to him I ran as fast as I can and that was

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when I know he’s so light, but strong: “Oh, hi Ding Wiz! Want to have a ride?” He asked. “Have a ride? Sure!” I really like rides so I said yes to him. “Buckle up!” He told me. I wasn’t sure what to do until I saw what he was doing: He throw a ribbon that he had hidden in his big sleeve. The golden ribbon tied around as I was a present or something that a snake would like to eat. He jumped high up in the air and to the roof then another, another until we reached a forbidden tower with broken swords, arrows, staffs, and wands around the broken police line. “You live there?!” I was amazed. “Yes!” He answered me. “But you can’t get in? Right?” I asked, when I notice that there are no doors. “Hold tide!” He said. “Wait, What!” I asked in a horror. He jumped as high as a helicopter and I thought we are going to crush in a: “Boom!” but we landed in a: “Tap”. “Home sweet home!” He said. It was terrifying how the house has been organized: Broken mirrors every here, music boxes that makes a sound of “Crack”. Creepy dolls, masks of clowns, brooms, spider webs, every creepy thing you could imagine in a haunted house. “Why does human beings even live in this horrible place!?” I mumbled. “It’s my grandma’s house.” said Tiramisu. “Where is your grandma then?” I asked. “She fall asleep and never woke up the Magic Physic War that happened five years ago when I was still a little child. She used all of her powers on the tower to keep me safe, and this” He pointed to his pocket watch. “If I have this I will always get in, and it also can help me travel through time but I can’t” He said. “Oh.J.J’m sorry.” I apologized for the anger I just had. “No, that’s ok, grandma said that: ‘People’s tear has three kinds: tears of laughter, tears of sadness, and tears of pain. The tear of laughter is when someone laugh really hard and it taste sweet, but the tears of sadness is when someone who cares about you and cried for you, it taste bitter and the tear of pain is when you broke a leg, your nose or your heart it taste like most of people’s tear taste like: Salty and sometime even Spicy.’ I only have see sweet tears, salty tears and spicy tears and my grandma said that do make the pocket watch work I will need the bitter tears” He explained. “So...so the tea...tears of joy is sweet, the...the sad tears is bitter an...and the hurt tears is salty and spicy?” I can’t stop sobbing. “There also a song about it, she sings it when I’m sleeping: The Sun will brighten up your way. The Moon will protect you

from Evil. I will stand here wish you luck. The compass is you heart. The Braveness will keep you awake, from Evil and death on your way. Your friend will protect you with kindness. The compass will be your heart. We will tall and give you help. The watch will help you to meet me and the compass will be your heart.’ Every time she sings that I will always fall asleep” Tiramisu sang. I cried and cried, my tears just can’t stop coming out. He wiped the tears with his long sleeve. “So do you miss her?” I asked. “Yes, but 1 know one day I will get to see her again, but no one cares about a Weirdo. Right?” He joked “No, I care about you! I will help you” I promised. “Really?” He asked. “Sure! I will help you” I said. He punched me as hard as he can right in my stomach and I cried again. One of all the tears fall into my mouth and it taste spicy, then I know that it the tears of pain. “That hurt!” I found myself rolling on the ground in pain. He opened his pocket watch and one of me tear fell onto the number: XII. The watch flow up and start glowing gold yellow - orange - red, then it start glowing dark, dark purple and thousand of black spirit flow out of the watch. Tiramisu throw all the ribbon to tie them. “HA! HA! HA! YOU CANT DEFET ME” The spirit laughed. “Tiramisu! Stay strong! Remember in the song? The Braveness will keep you awake. From Evil and Death on your way!” I ran to the curtain and pull the curtain as fast as I can: “Poof!” The spirit vanish when the moon light shoot at them. “Wow! What was that!” Tiramisu was amazed. “What dropped on to the watch is a pain tear and I think that was why.” I said. “Then what should we do?” said Tiramisu as he clean off the watch with his big sleeve. The watch flow up again, but this time it created a portal: “Wow!” Tiramisu amazed “How did I do that?” “I think it’s because when you wipe the tears off my face and those tears are on your sleeve!” I said “Quick let’s go! We went into the portal and it was no longer a forbidden tower in front of us, it’s a garden... An old lady was standing next to a young lady and next to it was Tiramisu’s mask: “What have you done to Tiramisu!” I shouted. “Honey don’t you worry, I am Tiramisu!” said the little girl “Her name is Acacia, my granddaughter.” Said the old lady. “Why did she called me a honey.” I asked. “All the Magic family have future version, she probably see something sweet from you” The old lady explained. Four years later Me and Acacia lived happily ever after with a Boy and a girl as our child. 143

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THE BIG GAME AND THE SMALL EXTINCTION AND EVERYTHING OPPOSITE MARK MIRIMSKI GRADE 5R

of meteor Bobbby turn a few times around the earth and fall on opposite side of place where Bobbby there. And it killed one half of dinosaurus but other thirty procents was steel alive.

CHAPTER 2. FINAL EXTINCTION

In the space really long ago were there alien playing with Bobbby. One light year distance between meteor named Bobbby and earth . And the alien shot at Bobbby with his ball then Bobbby understand that the ball is too fest now. But the ball was too close to earth already so meteor Bobbby flew for it and tried to catch it. And Bobbby fallon the planet called earth too and when he touched the underwater surface, were was an a really big explosion and the explosion wave came around the earth a few times and made a really big water wave. And then wave crashed into a land where was realy much hydro dinosaurus that was going with the wave and when it crashed big amount of hydro dinosaurs died. And after two earth weeks some parts 144

After two years the smoke from meteor Bobbby and his explosion and all these gasses from explosion go into the atmosphere and after two years atomsphere is already covered with smoke and some other gasses. It is starting to be cold and after not a really long time plants don’t have sun so plant eater dinosaurs die apd meat eater dinosaurs extinct because they don’t have food any more. Bobbby was scared and he did not understand what happened and after twenty earth years left Bobbby moved his not beautiful caves with gasses inside and some was rocks. And Bobbby understand that he bjgwed these caves so where was much of hot smoke coming into the atmosphere and at the same time alien came and he was thinking how to know where Bobbby is. So Alien thinkecl what if Bobbby is in the part of earth that would be hot and when he understood that it is better to check senses when search all over the earth. So alien give Bobbby a hook from aliens crane and after Bobbby was already on the aliens ship alien and Bobbby was looking on earth and it was steel all at ice and snow. After a long time earth was already with lands and with balance snow and deserts and life every where so Bobbby and alien invented an a new ball that was universal and they could improve it so the ball could stop already.

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SUPERHEROES JADWIGA TOMBINSKA GRADE 5B

Once there was a family. The family had 6 members. There was a dad, mom, daughter, son, uncle and aunt. They were the family of superheroes. They weren’t superheroes that they could fly or be invisible they all had the superpower to be kind to other people. If you didn’t know that is the best superpower you can ever imagine. One day there was a old grandma that dropped vegetables from the grocery store the youngest daughter helped her and took, all the vegetables to the woman’s house. She was only 4 years old. Okey, let’s start everything from the beginning. First the mother was was friends with a girl which was the daughter of a scientist and once they were on a play day in her house. Her dad had a lab just next to the kitchen and he tested a experiment on a rat. Then he asked the girls if they could see his work. They agreed. In the experiment there was a little explosion the friend of the scientist’s daughter felt a little sick. When she went back home she fainted. Her family had to call

the doctor. The doctor said it was a really bad sickness. For the next month they had to help her all the time. When she was good again she was really kind to other people. When she grew up she married a man and had kids. That the story of how they became superheroes. Few years later when the youngest daughter was teenager another scientist made an invention to made all people to be his slaves. The son wanted to stop him from doing this. He started to do experiments. At last he made few powers: invisibility, super strength, flying, super stretch, teleportation and super speed. He chose few among his friends and he made them superheroes. He created a group called “Super A.G.E.N.T.S. The A.G.E.N.T.S. pronounce the first letters of their names: Alice, George, Eizabeth, Nicholas, Taylor and Sam. These people can defend the world from the evil scientist. Finally they defended the evil scientist. The world lived in peace since then the world lived in peace.

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WILL THE WILLER AND THE TITANIC IVAN KULYK GRADE 5B

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SUPER DUPER GRANDMA! ECE ALKAN GRADE 5R

Hi Kids! I am Hannah, a grandmother. I live in Africa where I ... Ohhhh no did I forget to tell you I am not just any normal grandma, I am a super, duper, awesome grandma. Well ...kind of. I save many animals around the world. Today I will tell you the story of how I became super, duper, awesome. Here we go. I was a girl named Hannah who back then was only 9 years old. One day I was alone in my room and was reading. I was as bored as a kid in opera. I decided to go asleep. As I lay in my bed I start thinking about Africa. I had heard of Africa several times before. I live in a small village in England. My family is very poor so we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t own many stuff. I fall asleep and dream about Africa the whole time. When I wake up I am in a savannah. It is very hot and dry. When I sit up I see a animal. I try to remember what animal it is and suddenly remember seeing one of those in a library book before. It is a TIGER. It was huge and had black and orange stripes. At first I thought 150

that it was going to jump on me and bite me but it did not. Instead it stood there not even looking at me. Wait a minute I thought why is this tiger colorful. This was odd I thought and so I decided to help. Quickly I decided to fall back asleep and came back to my small house. There I found a big basin and went back to the savannah I filled some water in it from the lake nearby and brought it back to the tiger. Then I dragged the tiger into the basin. At first the tiger was silent but when I put her into the water it shrieked. We rolled around, me trying to wash the colour off the animal and the tiger trying to get out of the water. After a tough fight the tiger managed to run away from me. As I sat in the basin soaked through and exhausted I finally understood that the problem was not me but that i needed SOAP. And that kids is the story of how I became super, duper, awesome. See you on another adventure.

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IMAGINATION LAND ECE ALKAN GRADE 5R

Today I’ll be writing to you the account of how my life changed forever. Of course I did not know this seventy years ago sitting in my old and dark room but I am sure of it now as I sit at the same room. I was one of the many twelve year old Jasmine’s that lived in an ordinary cottage in an ordinary village. I was very lonely being the eldest child and the only girl in my family. My mum had died when i was five so I was left alone with my twin brothers and my dad. My dad rarely spoke or moved after my mum’s death so it was mostly me who did all the work in the house. I did not own many valuable things but I had a rope that I had found in the second-hand shop. I knew that the rope was rubbish but something inside me told me to keep it. It was very old and almost in pieces but I handled with care anyways. That day it had been raining so it was a very typical. Jacob and Jim were playing tag and my dad was reading the paper. I as normal was reading my book. I had always loved books. Reading about Cinderella or the Big Bad Wolf made me think. Thinking. That was also one of my favorite things to do. I could think for long hours before Jacob or Jim screamed Jasmine. I was a very small and shy child anyways I still am now even though I can controll it now. At that very day I had been reading about a fairy. I had never been bored of this book even if it was my hundredth time. I had been imagining about the fairy and her white unicorn so deeply that I must have fallen asleep. I slept for about 1 hour but it seemed like a year. Finally when I woke up I saw Jim and Jacob pulling the rope, my rope as if it was their own rubbish. I was mad, furious and I was going to do something about it. With a sudden emerge I jumped out

of bed and grabbed Jim’s dirty little arms. I screamed out, as I shoved them out of my room locking the door behind them. The lock was rusty and weak so I leaned against the door. I could hear their stupid little voices screaming but li did not care. That was my rope and my rope only. I held the rope tight not even noticing that it was torn in half. As the tears rolled down my eyes I felt my eyes slowly closing into a deep sleep. I suddenly woke up not remembering how long I slept. I was in a wood. Not a normal wood but a wood where the trees were colourful. There I could see many cartoon characters from my books and there was the fairy just as I had imagined it tall and elegant. I stood up suddenly feeling afraid, but that fear was very soon replaced by a happy feeling. The wood was oddly silent. No hooting, no buzzing. I thought I should make the best of my time in a place like this. I played and played until I was dizzy. I was so dizzy that I rushed into a wall and fainted. I had dreams about this dream until I woke up. I was back in my small and dark room. I was back in my ordinary village and my ordinary town. I was also still holding my rope which was now back in one piece. For a minute I was sad but decided that I would be able to go back any time I want. I quickly rubbed away my tears and sat up. After all, this land was a land for everyone. It was Imagination Land. After that day I went to the woods whenever I wanted. It was not just the woods that I went to it was anywhere really. I still sit back and imagine. Imagine how my life would have been if I had not slept that day or if I had not read that book These are things you don’t know, that no one knows. These are questions only your imagination knows the answers to. So be wise and use it.

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THE MAGIC BALL WILL PURCELL GRADE 5R

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DREAM SONYA STOLAR GRADE 5B

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I never get a feeling that I am relaxed. Every school day people were laughing at me. I am a boy who doesn’t like playing football, or tennis, or basketball. No one even understands me. Girls don’t want to talk to me either. One day , when I just woke up, I get a feeling that I am strange. My thoughts were flying around my head: why???Why did I get this feeling??? After I understood that I am different from other people. That isn’t the world where In should live. That’s why this story happened...

little smile, but I saw all the happiness. After school, by our “tradition”, “COOL” boys took my backpack. – You on diving competition???!!! BIG NEWS GUYS!!! COUCH WANT TO TAKE STUPID COWS FOR DIVING CLUB!!!-,Tomaz shouted.He thinks that he is sooo awesome. I want to see his face when I am going to get prize!!!! I want to go away from this place. Sky always grey. People are bully !! My mom has drugs at home. She is drinking , smoking . Father always on work!! Well, this isn’t work. My father playing in cousino to get some money. We ar

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER 2

On May 1st teachers of PE wanted to collect team (boys) for SUPER SUMMER DIVING ACTIVITY. That’s the time when half of our English schools are getting money and by this money we are going to travel to another country. We can start travelling only in 6 grade. I am already in 8. Because of all my dreams about fishes, Maldivian coral reefs . Today I decided that I am almost 18.1 am a man. I should go , and dive. I should believe in my dream. I looked at the teacher and put my hand up: – Mr. Andrew, I want to go to the diving competition. Class was quite . Of course that was a big surprise for all of my “friends”. – YOU??!!-Mr. Andrew asked again. His eye’s were so big. Maybe they were happy or surprised, or even maybe angry. I don’t know why... – Yes!! I want to go to your team and beat other schools and get the prize !!!! – Ok! But have you ever done that before. – Well,-I didn’t know what to answer. Should 1 tell him about my wonderful dreams, or every single person will laugh from me,-I did! But not in real life! Ha-ha-ha!!!-my class was laughing. But only one dark haired girl looked at me by her grey-blue eye’s . She is new girl. Her name... I forgot it. When I looked at her she smiled. That was a

This day we were preparing things for traveling. My mother was really unhappy because of that. When I just came home with that news, she shouted like crazy: “WE HAVEN’T GOT MONEY , AND YOU WANT TO GO TO ANOTHER COUNTRY, TO ANOTHER PART OF THE WORLD!!!” Father was really happy about that thing. “Finally my son is going to fly away from this dirty city!!!”That’s what he just said . I made my mother smile only when I said that school should pay for traveling. I didn’t know what to pack. Swimming suit, T-shirt, shorts. Or maybe I should take some cotes. Where we are going to go??? I was lying on my bed and thinking about diving competition. So much thoughts. Wait!!! I never dived before. How 1 am going to win the competition , I even never swim before!!! Everything is only because of my stupid dream. My mother is shouting from me , but father is happy. On next day I was ready.

CHAPTER 3 At school I came with packed suitcase. All people had small backpacks , and I am like a crazy one. They won’t believe me that my mother was tooooo worried, so she packed so much

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things. I decided to take out clothes and stuff what I need, and put it into the school backpack . That’s better. Now it’s easier to travel. – Ok, people, who is ready to go??? - Mr. Andrew asked by his strong voice. And after that question I put my hand up. – Ok, fine, then this group of people are going to go on the first bus. I never have seen smile on face of our PE teacher. He was so happy this day. When we sat to the bus (I didn’t sit), I just couldn’t find a place. Then at the back I found a free place. The brown haired girl was sitting near. I asked her: – What is your name??? – Alisa-she quietly answered. – Why you are going with us??? Are you a part of cheering group??? – No, I am a diver. – Wait, WHAT?! – You know what, girls could swim better the boys. For example have ever dived to the black bottom of the sea??? – Well, I guess you didn’t to. – Actually, I did. In my old school I was a champion. I saw you before. At airport last year. Your friend was going away . And , where is he now. – I have no idea. He moved. – Hm, that’s why... – Why what? – Everyone laughing from you. This group of boys are just, just, fighting with you all the time. It so strange. Just tell me why? Why everyone hate you ??? What have you done?? -Nothing... – No, they won’t do that, if they won’t have a reason . – How do you know something about my life!!! You are just a girl. – Well, if I know it I am not JUST A GIRL -Oh, god.

– You aren’t like everyone, you are different. – Yes you are. Just why you are doing it. Why did you come heer ??? You even have no idea howto dive ... – I had a dream one night... About fish’s, about sea.. – Everyone are her only because they want to win. – I want to win. – This isn’t the only reason... While me and Alisa were talking the driver shouted by the angry voice: “Hey, you two, do you want to come out, I need to take the next group. We went out of the bus. We saw a big , glass building. That was airport.

CHAPTER 4 I have never seen so much people.Once, I get lost in this crowd of people. We came to passport control. In our country if you are older than 12 you should have your own passport. O took my small book out and showed it to a tall man. I saw this long line after me. Everyone want to go away from heer. Just like me. People aren’t different. Everyone is the same. Our small group with Mr. Andrew went to economy class launch to wait others . Everyone were talking and playing in their phones. I haven’t got one. I came to see what is Alisa’s phone look like. – What,-she asked-your’s ran out of charge??? – No, I haven’t got one. – Oh, I got that one on my 5th birthday, yours is broken??? – God, I just said I never get one!!! – Hm, so you have no idea how to call to someone , or how to play some games? – Yes, exactly. – Oh, it so easy. – I know , just never saw one. – What about your parents. 155

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– They haven’t got a smartphone. – So, what phone they have. – Do you know just a small home phone. Our phone has only function of calling. I can’t play on it. – Ok, then I am going to teach you how to play one math game. – Fine... All the time we were waiting , I was playing my first game. After one hour all groups were in the airport. We sat in the small bus what took us to the plain.

The door opened and all of our diverse jumped out. Some of us were happy. And then I saw Alisa. I took her hand: – Are you fine, you aren’t scared ??? – Oh, god, MAN, you felt in love!!!Then find another girlfriend, I AM NOT YOURS!!!!- she kicked me by her leg and flyied away. When we were on the ground I gotta feeling that I lost my only friend in the world. It so bad. I was scared of talking to her, because if I would she would kick me again and she would shout on me. Well, I think that I felt in love.Yeah! Why not! And I would tell it to her> Maybe not now.

CHAPTER 5 I was looking to the window. I can see all the rivers. Half of our see. It so awesome to look out of the window on your city. People and cars are too small. Buildings are just like my finger. – Hey!!!-,someone said-CAN YOU HEAR ME??? – What?!-,that was one of the cheerleader girls. – Hey, you! Why you decided to swim??? Our school is going to loose only because of you.Do you really want that???-,she laughed. Even girls are laughing from me. I tried to find another places. No , actually I wanted to find Alisa.I saw her sitting at the back of the plain. There were only two steps till her. But our high school Pe teacher, Mr. Max saw me. – Why you are walking around young man,we are almost on the ground??? – Just, just... – What you want some coca cola??? – No, I just wanted to sit with my friend... – No go back on your place. We gave you a seat, now you should be sitting there. – Well, there are girls , and they are so annoying, so I decided to go away from them. -Girls?!Annoying?!Oh, god you a man!!! Go back to your seat!!! – No way-,someone who was standing at the back said by the strong voice.That was Mr. Andrew. – No way, this is not your student, and whatever, - he took something looks like a microphone and he said:” Ok, diverse, today you are going to dive in the sky. – Wait, WHAT?!-I shouted.lt is scary. To jump out of a plane! – Yes!!! – NOOOOO!!!!! 156

CHAPTER 6 By the bus we came to the beach. I don’t want to take my things out and put them to the wardrobe. I want to go to the sea, and dive. I threwed my backpack and ran to the sea. Wait not there. I should go to the dive centre and ask for some things for diving. – Hi, I am from English school, and I wanted to have a dive costume... – Ok-,said a person from the shop- give me $1,000. – NO!!!! That’s not the price for diving costume. – Actually it is. – Please, I haven’t got any money, my family is really poorMII came heer just to find friends and show to everybody else that I am not a loser. •Hm, I can see that you are here not only because of the winning. We never had diverse like that. I can give you all of the diving things only for $100. – OH YES!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! I ran with happiness and one diving costume to the beach. What should I do?? How to put all of those things??? How to put this costume on??? While I was trying to find out about how to wear this , I heard giggling. I turned no one was there. I turned back, I heard somebody’s voice. – Ok why do you watching me??!!!-, I shouted. – Well, you are so funny-,that was Alisa. I thought she doesn’t want to see me again.-need some help? I sat down on the sand. – I have no idea why I am doing this. Why I have this suit in my hands, why I am talking to you right now. I have no idea why girls are watching at me a giggling. Why I am sitting on

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the sandy beach. Why? – I told you. You want to show everyone who you are. All those school years , because of losing a friend you became not the best communicator. The only way of communicating for you is swimming. And you are doing the right thing. Now just don’t give up. Put your regulator in your mouth and swim. You can do that, I know you can. Just go to the sea. You have 2 days left. I decided not to put on my suit. I wanted to go to the sea. I made my first step and already jumped to the water. I had only my mask on. I can see lots fishes. Butterfly fish , sharks, eagle rays, parrot fishs. That was a day when I got this feeling , the feeling that I am relaxed. Corals, underwater waves. All of those I feeled and heard, and I saw it. I was swimming til! night. Finally I came out of the water.

CHAPTER 7 I was swimming to days. I was diving too.lt is so much fun. Sometimes I dive with Alisa, sometimes alone. One day while I was swimming I hit my leg by a coral. After that I went to the doctor. He said that I can’t swim, I won’t go on the competition. I came out of his room , I saw Alisa. – You can’t dive for 6 months??? – Yes... See, I did not the right thing.l can’t do anything. I am just a stupid boy... – No... – Alisa just go to your room and sit there. I am going to go to my room and sleep. I don’t want to speak about that... On this moment, she looked at. First water drop slide on her face. – You know, better for me not to speak with you... I am done!She said that and ran away. Chapter 8 The competition day ... I can’t do that. I can’t compete. First who came there were boys, they should go down. So the smallest number is 90m . For girls it is easier. Minimum is 70m.People were cheering and clapping in their hands.There were lots of people. Some are parents of rich families . I have never been so sad I can see the big prize for first place. After boys competition girls were getting ready. I saw cheerleader girls. They were talking to Alisa. Then one of them put her hand on Alisas

shoulder. Second one said: “ So you can go under the water with your boyfriend !”And she kicked her to the water. I looked at the time. It was almost afternoon. I still can go. But I can’t spent time on my stupid thoughts. Alisa is almost down at the sea. I should go, I don’t care about my leg , I care about my love. I ran to the changing room and took one of the suits. My leg hurts , but I am running. I am a man now. – Wait young man where are you going , ok we have one more boy at the sea, let’s watch how far he can go. -said one of the PE teachers I jumped.Where is she. I saw her falling to the coral. “Ok Alisa! Don’t be scared, I am going to save you.” I thought. It was almost 200m . I should find her regulator. She is so near to me. (And to the coral) I touched her. I tried to take her into my hands. And I did it. I looked at her face. “What have I done???” My regulator already was in her mouth. She should live! This is the person who saved me, she told me everything what she now about diving, she teached me. I felt in love. And this love would be forever. 10m left till the top of the sea. – Ok, our last boy is here, and his result is...-PE teacher was looking at my result- Whait a minute, he has a women on his hands and he made the RECORD OF ALL THE SCHOOL COMPETITIONS: 225m. Clapping was around me. But I don’t want to get the prize . I want to see Alisa’s eyes .

CHAPTER 9 At the evening I heard somebody’s voice: – Hey, you ? – Alisa , YOU ARE ALIVE!!! YOU ARE TALKING TO MEM! YES!!! – You saved me!!11 am so glad. – Yes I did, because you are my love and you are my dream!!! At airport me and Alisa were talking: – Wait-,she said-we are something MORE that friends, and I even don’t know your name!! -Oh, just call me Jack... – Ok Jack!! After all that story I came back to my parents. I showed to Tomaz and to all the school that loozers could be winners. Alisa is me and Jack is a character what I can’t show to others. Loozers could be winners,

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MY GRANDMA’S HOUSE MICHAEL HOYT GRADE 3S

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THE COW ANDREW PALMER-VERBYTSKIY GRADE 3S

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162

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1 74

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180