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A short story4/5/2020 “Hey Nicole, chuck me the airplane!” shouts Bill.
The teacher walks out for one minute, and the class erupt like a volcano. I sit there, staring out into the wilderness. I wish I were out there, running with Ralph. Ralph’s my friend, but he is in Mr Thomson’s class. I only see him every break time. And that is not fair. I am still looking out when I see an orange glow spark out of nowhere. I sit up straight. The hairs on my neck are standing up, like the hackles on a dog’s neck. Not a second later, there's a loud bang and crash. Everyone is running to my side of the classroom now, to see where the sound has come from. “Sorry guys, but can you move a bit back. You know I’m claustrophobic,” I say to the group that has gathered. “Shut it Tiny!” shouts Nicole. She is the class ringleader. Ms Addington strides back into the classroom to see the group dispersing back to their seats. “Sorry about that my lovelies, just had to sort something out,” says Ms Addington. I am still staring out the window. But now I see multiple little figures toddling around the school grounds. I raise my hand to let Ms know, but she says, "Not now Adrian." “But Ms, there are a coup-“ “Not now!” she says. I see one of the figures approaching my window, turning its head right then left. It looks as though it has been covered in greeny-grey slime. “There are aliens outside!” I shout out of fear. “Don’t be silly Adrian!” shouts back Ms Addington. And then and there, the figure stood in front of the door. It talks a lot in its ‘language’. I do not understand it. Ms Addington falls in a heap onto the ground. “Look at that!” shout Nicole and Bill. Jubair Ahmed, Year 8
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The Window1/5/2020 A crossed white frame
Some patterned fabric all tied It's heard calling my name but blocking me from going outside Gushing through greens, wild feathered creatures soar by whilst they rest upon trees and hum as they fly Drifting all through Sheltering us from the beams Weightless marshmallows up in blue Partnered with a ball of fire that gleams Dreaming through the panes Wishing to see the rise of dawn A dreadful tugging of my views because I know the blue cloth must be drawn Contributor: Abbey O'Brien, Year 8 |