Jack – Again and Again

I suddenly wake up in a bed, and everything is dark. I look around and I’m in a very small room. I am on the bed which, in the dark, looks similar to my own, which makes me think I am in my own room, awake. But am I? I stand up and look around. All I see is a poster of some random movie, with some sort of grey hand pressed against the window and a boy screaming at something on the wall. The only other object was a desk, with two drawers underneath. I walk over to the door that is opposite the bed and start to open it, but then I feel a sharp pain in my neck and everything goes black. I wake up again, in the same room, confused by what just happened. I get up quickly and try to open the door, but this time there’s a padlock on it. I look around for anymore ways to escape, but there’s nothing. Once again, the pain comes, and everything fades away.

After what felt like days, I wake up to see one of the once locked drawers wide open, with a piece of paper inside it. I read it and it says, “Change the way you act, or you won’t escape.” I then quickly turn around, and try to comprehend what this could mean. I kick out my foot into the drawer, as I have no idea of what to do. All of a sudden, a stool slides out onto the floor, and I immediately know what it’s for. I drag it over to the vent and place it underneath, which means I can now climb up and out. It is a very tight space, and after a couple of minutes I feel the pain, but this time it isn’t pain, it’s a warm feeling, and I drift off to sleep.

I wake up in my own room this time, in my bed. I look at my clock and see it’s 3:30 in the morning. I get out of bed and go to open the door, but it’s locked. I start to feel worried, but what I see next doesn’t help. A grey hand, pressed up against the window, grasping to get inside. I look around and see five words on the wall: “This is not a dream”. I start to scream, but before I can everything goes black.

As Soon As I Took A Sip – Short Story

As soon as I took a sip, I realised it was poison. Complete and utter poison. The bartender can put in as many sparklers and umbrellas as he likes, but I decided I wouldn’t be putting that liquid anywhere near my lips again.

No sooner than I’d put the extravagant cocktail back on the sticky bar, I was being whisked away to the dance floor by my friends – they’re the only reason I’m here. It’s Madeline’s birthday and it would be rude of me not to go since I missed the last one. Totally not my fault – I was busy… doing nothing.

Social situations just aren’t my thing. I’d rather be curled up in my bed watching anime on Netflix or reading the next instalment to My Hero Academia. But anyway, there I was just minding my own business, bobbing up and down to whatever house music this particular club just happened to be playing, when, in the corner of my eye, I saw this dark silhouette moving towards me. I turned towards the figure, expecting it to move right past me – I don’t know anyone else here apart from the friends I was currently with – but it stopped right next to me.

The figure in question was that of a young man, probably my age or a little bit older, and he was about a head taller than me. Eyes like the sun hitting glass at dawn sparkled down at me, a lazy grin revealing pearly white teeth. “Hey,” he said, “What brings you here?”

I flushed almost as red as my hair. Obviously the oldest pick up line in the book, but to be honest I think I would have stuttered in awe with whatever he said to me, even if he’d told me he just thrown up in the bathroom. “Birthday party,” I breathed, feeling dizzy – I hadn’t had that much to drink so I was just acting like a silly little girl. Boys never talked to me, so I really had no idea what I was doing.

“Can I get you a drink – you look like you’re about to pass out?” Not the usual reason for someone buying someone else a drink at the bar, but I nodded and followed him through the mass of people.

We then found a table in a corner, almost completely out of sight, which I liked because it meant I didn’t have to be part of the crowd. I noticed that his hair reflected the colours of the multitude of flashing lights in the room, so it must have been a bright blonde – almost platinum considering the intensity of the shades. My stomach was flipping. I suppose I was thinking Prince Charming had come for me without me having to lift a finger, which was a nice thought at the time.

“I like your glasses,” he said. Obviously, he was as new to flirting as I was.

“Really?” I laughed, “I thought they were a bit garish to be honest.”

He chuckled and shook his head, his fringe falling over his eyes and hiding them. “No, they frame your face nicely – pun not intended, unless you thought it was totally hilarious, in which case it was completely intended.”

That had me in hysterics, which was odd, because it really wasn’t that funny. I don’t think my brain was really computing what was happening since I was so tired all of a sudden.

Again, this was out of the ordinary. I never got giddy with alcohol, despite being a notorious lightweight due to lack of experience. I was hoping I didn’t have a case of love at first sight, or insta-love, as the kids are calling it these days. Eventually I put it down to feeling on top of the world because this gorgeous human being was talking to me. By choice.

Maybe I should just have more self-confidence.

We talked some more, but every passing minute was draining me of energy until I don’t think I was capable of standing anymore. Or thinking properly, because I felt two strong arms wrapping themselves around me and lifting me not too gently from where I was sitting. Strong arms should feel safe. These, however, did not.

Then we were moving forwards. I assume it was forwards – I didn’t know which way was up. I’m sure I heard Madeline shouting my name over the blare of the speakers, but I was concentrating too much on staying awake to reply.

Maybe if I had been able to shout for help – shouted so someone could stop this stranger from taking me away. Maybe if I hadn’t had been so entranced by those eyes. Maybe if I’d have just stayed at home and watched Netflix. Maybe then it wouldn’t have happened.

The End – Poetry

Distorted shapes in and out of focus
Blinding light wrapping around his soul
That never ending beep, the haunting sound
Frozen. Carved into stone moulded out of clay.

He had been free. He had been me.
Separate from existence a view from above.
Visiting those in the days gone by
Briefly seeing passing through, a meer brush of the past

Days revisited and memories replayed
Summer days flashing by brighter than before
Winter ones full of laughter and joy
A flashback of a life well lived

Empty swings embedded with the memories of young children
Dead daisy’s forever frozen in dried crowns
Worn pages of tattered books
Filled with past experiences welcoming more.

This was the end there was nothing more
Ended so soon not a second to breath
My life and his tangled and mixed
A fight to survive a fight to die



Temporary Bliss – Poetry

There’s a young couple,

A million worlds apart in class.

No more notes

Left on dusty doorsteps.

They are no longer silenced,

Free from the games they played.

They sit together.


And as he plays,

The haunting melody echoes within her broken heart.

And as she sings,

The words pierce his pride filled head.

Abandoned by the world,

They sit together


Rejecting their pasts,

And for the briefest of seconds,

Unaware of what was to come,

Felt joy for the first time.




Within the only room that held life.

Sleepless Nights – Poetry

Sleepless Nights


Sleepless Nights – Fantasising of families and freedom,

Anger – Daily floggings induce constant pain,

Sadness – Tears like the streams down the plantation,

And Pain – Mental misery and stress.


Planning for escape – Driving my hope,

Resisting – Denouncing the rules with my Brethren,

Earning Punishment – Hung from my neck for hours without end,

And Depression – Picking me out from the field and cutting me down.


Constant Rebelling – Spreading the truth of our masters,

Growing popularity – My kin follow my lead and yearn for a voice,

Violence – Fighting for Freedom and Justice

And Slaughter – My role plummets into a spiral of depression.


No difference made – Our resilience and efforts for nothing,

More Hardship – Punished for our ‘crimes’,

Brutality – Unable to fight back,

And More Sleepless Nights – Still fantasizing of families and freedom.

US Police Chase – Short Story

US police chase stolen armoured vehicle


There were strange scenes in the US state of Virginia on Tuesday night, as police chased a stolen armoured personnel carrier.

An interview with one of the officers revealed it was “one of the most intense chases” he’d ever been in.

The police had been alerted to the robbery after the thief set of an internal alarm during the early hours of the morning. Police Constable Jeffery James said he was outraged that the vehicle had been left in a parking space by the bus station as the officer accountable for driving it went to get doughnuts, only to return to an empty space. Unbelievably, the Hot Rod, Cooper Mini and Shark Bite (the most popular Hot Wheels car) were all left untouched, leaving the officers able to give chance.

Thankfully, the mega carpet roadmap was only so large, and soon the thief was stopped, cornered between the airport and the hospital.

“All in a day’s work,” said Officer Al, “before we get to work.”



Night – Poem

This week we collected an array of Poems based of off the book Night a story from the point of view of a Jew who was prosecuted in the German concentration camps. The years 9’s objective was to write a poem from his point of view during the moment he lost faith in God.


Can It Be? 

Can it be?
Any piece of hope crushed.
Any piece of my identity broken.
Any piece of mercy, I wish.

Can it be?
Flames burn my faith completely.
Flames burn innocent children’s lives.
Flames burn in Mrs Schächter’s mind.

Can it be?
Evil, never before had I seen such evil.
Evil, never before had the devils existence felt so strong.
Evil, never before had I seen such pain.

Can it be?
Given up on general life.
Given up on Gods all loving nature.
Given up on quality of life.

Can it be?
Suffering, so much in one place.
Suffering, this must all be a nightmare.
Suffering where are you humanity?



Darkness covered everywhere,

nothing spoken,

nothing seen,

nothing heard.

Darkness covered everything.


Everything was so wrong.

Everyone was so weak.


Stunned with regret,

sitting hopelessly.




Confusion etched on my face.



So inhumane,

God had failed me.


Can Anything Compare

Can anything compare

to the pain in your chest

seeing the things I saw

whilst trying my best


To live and to hope

One can only dream!

In the factories and fields and blocks

Death is closer than it seems


Seeing old friends and neighbours

struggling to cope

Seeing women and children standing

unknowingly with bars of soap


Seeing strangers shaking hands

With their certain fate,

heading off the ‘showers’

Not knowing it was too late…


The things I saw changed me

The feelings I felt broke me

The smoke I inhaled choked me

With the souls crushed and innocent lives

Reaching down my throat and through my mind

Sending me onto a guilt trip, from which I’ll never return, and which for I will never whine


The moment I turned away

from that soul sucking

gut wrenching

blood curdling scene

my faith and mind was led astray


Never in my life

shall I forget how grateful

and thankful

yet angry and befuddled I was

and how hard I tried to conceal my strife


Never, for as long as I live,

shall I forget the faces of the young

and innocent

and harmless, with a whole life ahead of them

burning in the fire, losing their right to live


Never, for the rest of my time

shall I forget the nightmares

and inhumanity

and cruelty that stripped us from our freedom

And the faces of those who committed these crimes


So if you-re wondering how or why

I lost all hope

And courage

And faith on that first night



Seeing the unthinkable with your bare eyes

Feeling the head of a soul consuming fire

on your bare skin

Hearing the agonizing screams of infants

having their lives snatched away

Smelling charred flesh and burnt hair

Of those never to see the world again…


Then maybe you could tell me why.


The gates of hell,

Torture and suffering,

Opened up before my eyes,

The huge black iron sign reading,

“arbeit macht free” – “ work makes you free.”


The pavement, mud,

Soil and dirt,

A long road paved with suffering.

The road where dreams turn to ,

Ashes in an iron fist named death,



A chimney,

Billowing and smoking,

With hope and dreams,

Of young and old fading,

Into the night , never to be heard of again,



Lone stary,

Human being with

Sunken faces, wrapped within,

Blue and white rays of striped misery,

To cover the fact they are starved.



The shinning stars

One last glimpse,

Of hope light and freedom,

Before that light is extinguished into smoke,

As well as hundreds of people, small wisps in starts.



So tonight,

When you reach

To the stars, with hope and light

Remember some of them hands faded away

Into the dark blue the unknown the unthinkable



My Poem: My visions


Never shall I forget;

The way I saw everything,

That, I will always regret

My heart forever needs mending


The night went on for days

The satanic visions wouldn’t cease

Killed if gypsies, disabled or gay

My sister, his sons, his niece


Ripped from our childhoods

Torn from our lives

Pushed into adulthood

Marched in lines five by five


It all changed in an instant

Infinitely we all changed

Our hope was non-existent

By this awful man, deranged


Millions were lost;

Never held again

All at a cost

Felt endless pain

All at a cost

Hitler and his Wehrmacht


Unimaginable things

The night is full of unimaginable things,

Mystery, darkness, creatures, pain.

The sky could’ve been filled with wonderful wings,

Instead we wait for nothing.


Where are you? Are you there?

We smell our family in the air.

Where are you? Are you here?

We don’t want to fear.


We grew too quick in the unknown,

Shamed, ridiculed, disheartened.

Oh, why did you leave us here alone?

Too soon death’s arms opened,

Poor children.


Where were you? Were you even there?

We were treated like vermin, they didn’t care.

Where were you? Were you even here?

We were experimented on, couldn’t you hear?




The terrors blinded his eyes,

Did God know he was there?

Surely he wouldn’t put them through this

Did he hear his prayers?


With each step he took he became more scared

Each breath he took he chocked

“Why us?” he thought,

As he breathed in yet another breath of smoke


There was panic everywhere,

You could see it in their eyes,

Yet they stood still,

People didn’t know it when they walked by.


Their faith continued to crumble,

As each day passed

Pain was all over his body,

And he thought it could be the last


Years, months, hours,

It seemed like the same thing

Time past slow

His faith was hanging off a thin piece of string


He heard ungodly screaming,

That’s when something inside felt like it died

He didn’t know whether to believe it was true

Or believe it was all a lie


Never Shall I Forget

Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever.

The image of our saviour, reduced to ash and smoke,

Disregarded faith left at the gates among disregarded possessions.

Dreams left on the empty cattle carts.


Never shall I forget the night where not even the stars shone,

Mashed with the smoke of burning innocence

Hidden by the prayers left on deaf ears, never to be heard by our absent God.

Hope left to disintegrate in a pit of fire.


Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God

And my sold and turned my dreams to dust.

How can I dedicate my life to a faith that took so many others?

How can I forgive a God that left his people to be starved of their optimism?


Never shall I forget that the night never really ended,

Forever embedded in my mind like a barrier between me and God

In my head he is above the barbed wire

Watching his people walk into the gates of Hell, commonly known as Auschwitz.




Who Do You Think You Are? – Poetry

Are you the one who that picked me up when I fell?
I remember those hands young and blistered,
the sweet smell of honey brightening the darkness,
Carrying me home.  Is that who you are?
Are you the one that taught me to wish?
To build the nests and the birds would come,
Look up at the sky and dream of fairy tales,
Imagination ignited. Was that you?
Are you the one that showed me how to trust?
Let me hold the lead understand when I let go,
Letting me hold it again never giving up,
Building trust. Did you know it was me ?
Are you the one that found my emotions?
Dug them up and held them in our hands,
Danced with them between us, kissed them daily,
Letting me love. Are you all the same person?
My forever changing soul mate

100 Word Flash Fiction


I put my homework on the table. It had taken hours.

My teacher came over to my desk and ominously looked down on me.

“What do we have here?”

He picked up my homework and seemed to be taking in the weight of it as he balanced it on his outstretched hand. ”Interesting” he mumbled.

Without hesitation, he lifted it parallel to his face – is he smelling it? My heart racing.

He opened his mouth slightly, and then took a bite from the corner. Since when did teachers eat out homework?

I suppose that’s what happens in cooking class.



Each hop was interrupted. Each step deterred by some far off noise. Every hop, step and jump disturbed by a train. The crow had been watching, waiting for the right time to snatch its prize: a bloody paste spattered neatly across the tracks, the only remnants of a once living creature, the crow’s early dinner. And now, was the time to act-beady eyes certain all was clear as it made for its meal. Stealing a stray finger, the crow made a quick getaway. It didn’t care what it was, or how long it’d been there, food was always food.


Worst Case Scenario

“You vicious little bastard!” he snarled. “All I did was ask you out and that’s how you treat me? Well,” he retracted his sullied hand, “At least I can take a hint.”

She stared at him with blank eyes, visage of innocence tarnished by her actions. This wasn’t going well.

“Look, I’m sorry…” he murmured.

There was still no reply. She just judged him with all her being.

“Right…let’s try this again.”

Pulling himself together he took in a deep breath. If he couldn’t ask out his cat, he couldn’t ask her.


That day

 I casually lent on the ‘keep out’ sign.

“I’m not saying you’re afraid, because if you were then you wouldn’t go in”

My little brother scrunched his nose and folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you go in?”

Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh. “Obviously, I’ve already been in. But you need to prove you’re not scared. Off you pop”

He peered into the dark depths of the trees, their branches reaching out. “Is it ………..safe?” he gulped.

“Of course,”

That somehow convinced him. I watched as he inched into the wood.



 Thanks for the picnic baby, how have you been?”

Only the birds answered the question watching from their judgmental posts. A raucous cacophony of laughter echoing through the wood.

“I told you, I would find you”

Shaking, sweating, and stuttering for help stumbling backwards into his grasp. Constricted as darkness settled in, coarse stubble burning her ear no less than his words did.

He had found her, she had lost.

Twisting turning she tried to escape regretting her decisions questioning how he had found her, wondering what he’d done to Sam.

She was so close this year …… second in hide-and seek.

Failed Mutiny 

“You’ve run this fucking ship too long” Only Silence sliced the air.

Muffled yelling, and the sound of a body being dragged across wood. Crash of thunder. I was thrown onto the seas sprayed deck.

Another Mutiny!

This was different. An ice cold prick pressed harshly into my neck.

“I was born to be a captain.”


“I run this fucking ship now”

Electric stares more piercing than a dagger.

Sudden vibrations swung all the heads to the body.

Rubbing off the fake blood, i apologized for not silencing my phone.

The hunt – Short Story

The slaves ran. Their hearts beating rapidly as they heard the cannibals behind them, swing their axes liked madmen. The slaves were part of a game let free from their cages then hunted down like prey.

The hunters were raiders, outlaws who raid villages and enslave innocent people then play around with them before slitting their throats and chew on their limbs just like in this situation. But these raiders were about to taste their own medicine. Among the slaves was a young boy named Jack, he was a noble and kind warrior disarmed then taken hostage whilst defending his village.

Jack was also very intelligent and climbed a very high tree. The tree was thick and spiky perfect for Jacks crafted weapon. He tore a strong stick from a long branch then carved the end with his boot which remarkably had a rough end which made the carving an easy task. Jack was pleased with himself for making a weapon out of wood by himself but that was quickly interrupted by a raider attempting to climb the tree. Other raiders surrounded the tree but staying back. They were all chanting and cursing the warrior clinging onto the tree. The raider climbing the tree could nearly reach the branch that jack was crouching on but was cut short when a wooden spear pierced his neck instantly stealing the life out of the berserkers soul.

In rage the rest of the raiders all charged up the tree shouting and growling. Jack murdered another raider but his spear got stuck in the madman’s heart as he fell down to the forest floor. Jack was defenseless. The merciless killers moved in for the kill. An easy kill they thought. They were wrong. The amount of weight snapped the trees roots and the tree started to collapse, ignoring that they were about to be crushed the raiders kept climbing desperate for Jacks head. Jack noticed that the tree was falling and changed sides then all of a sudden the tree fell quickly squashing all the bloodthirsty raiders.

Jack had done it. He had defeated the dreaded raiders.