Snuff
It was all my fault. Everyone knew this immediately. It was my fault that the dreaded fear entered her life: not just mine. The pain that ran through every inch of her veins, was caused by me and my antics. I was a sin in her life, waiting to strike her down. The horrific concept that would tear at her innocence, with every second that our love was reinforced.
The cage, wrapped around our love: destroyed, left in ruins.
The cage around me: my love , my soul, all disfigured.
It was all so unnatural, so much so that to such as extent, no one wants them. No one wants me. She did however although that was before her good luck charm turned rusty and became so fragile; that one touch of the human hand, would wear away the small layer of protection still there.
Creative Writing
I was submerged in the wrong life, walked onto the wrong set and this was not how things were supposed to be. The filthy hospital curtains loomed in my direction. I had been here for 18 months now. Unremitting hospital visits. The smell of the hygienic, sterile hospital had become almost reminiscent of a home scent to me. The grudging, rock like bed from which the fragrance emanated was unpleasant to say the least; it sent back memories of my childhood when once, my mother had been in the similar position as I am myself, but this time I couldn’t thwart the notion that this was reality. My life seemed to be corroding before my eyes: two children, husband, new job, family, friends... all that would be remaining at the end of this horrendous situation was a collection of discarded recollections.
by Bethany Hamilton
“Ball bloody Divot”
To lose a family member is to take a bullet to the heart. It is to shatter emotions and to tear you apart inside. “A heart attack” they said ... “it was all very quick” they said...“he wouldn’t have felt a thing” they said. Almost as if these words would be soothing to me. A laughable attempt to extinguish the fire burning in my heart. How could such petty words lead me away from my pain?
I wish he would understand, I was in no pain when I died, it was a week after my birthday, seeing all my family and friends, celebrating one last time with them, I died happy, he needs to know. It is beyond the grasp of my mentality to see why he doesn’t understand; pain is but a fleeting feeling before realisation kicks in and allows us to return to our ordinary lives. He will soon overcome this “grief” and realise that I am gone but he lives on, his life, long and prosperous, stretched out ahead of him.
Tim Griffiths
Gone Too Soon…
From the time of being diagnosed to the inevitable ending, life is looked upon in my eyes to be like an hourglass, each grain that passes representing another part of you that slips away. The trials and tribulations suffered during your time within that glass can be many. Also the fond happy memories the hourglass can represent to those still here are symbolic.
For ten years I was merely an onlooker, taking a backseat to what I feel may have been one of the most important events of my entire life. At this time I watched the grains in the glass fall one on top of the other to the very bottom wishing they would slow. I watched these events with my eyes wide open when all of the time I wished they were closed. No one can prepare you for the journey you are about to embark on and so before I knew it, I was in for a ride that I would never forget. I remember the tears on the good days; I also remember the painful tears I thought would never end, the salty taste on my lips and the pain in my heart. Nowhere to run or hide it was time to face the truth, things would never be the same again.
Alex Derbyshire
My name is Oliver, and I have cancer; They are probably the two most interesting things about my life right now. Two weeks ago I lost my best friend Rosalie to Leukaemia and I am going to die someday too. Life really hasn't been the same since she left, I don't have a reason to wake up anymore, and every day is as lonely as the next. I first met Rose at the clinic I visit regularly for my health checks, and from that moment on we were inseparable. We both knew that someday we would die, but I never thought I would be the last one standing. I can still feel the soft silky touch of her hair, and hear her high pitched laughter echoing around the room, filling it with wondrous delights. I wonder if she could see me now? Lay in a bed with my thinning, auburn hair sticking up and the dark, cavernous circles engraved around my cloud grey eyes. But now isn't the time to start thinking about Rose because if I do ill start crying and my Mother will think something is wrong.
Jessica Berry
The Forgotten Inmate
Four walls: no escape. This has been my home for the past seven years, persecuted for a crime that I haven’t committed and no trial in sight. These four walls, tarnished grey and stained with innocent blood are all I can see except for the cast iron door. The door that when opened is a new world beckoning to me. I can see colour and fresh faces rather than the dreary breeze-blocks inside here. They think I did it… They think I killed the President. He had so much leadership, guile and poise but he was also a crook and a liar. He was a leader however with one ambition driving his rage filled mind; leading our nation into war. He protested that they killed our citizens but he continued to kill theirs. Blood on his hands for us to become the ‘supreme nation’. Nuclear bombs thunder down on women and children in cities and states everywhere, no-one deserves thisMatthew Charlton
“Dear Mr & Mrs Keller.
Vault- Tec would like to congratulate you for your family’s recent inclusion in the Vault 101 community. We have accepted you and your family to be some of the few who take shelter in our high-tech vault shelters, which will prepare you for the unlikely event of Nuclear Holocaust.
Below you will find a full review of procedures related for sheltering in Vault 101.
Vault-Tec provides all clothing, bedding and accommodation for the residents of Vault 101. All personal items you wish to bring into the vault must be reviewed and approved by an authorized Vault 101 technician before the items are taken to you reserved quarters within the Vault. Although, in an emergency entrance to Vault 101 ever occurs, no personal belongs will be permitted into the Vault.
Vault- Tec looks forward to your arrival and hopes that your stay will be a happy one. For more information on the procedures for entering Vault 101, contact your Vault- Tec representative. Sincerely;
Vault- Tec
Dept of Public Relations
Washington, DC”
Joy instantly filled Mr and Mrs Keller; they had been eagerly awaiting a reply from Vault- Tec for at least three weeks. To find out that they were, the so called 'chosen ones', and that they would be the ones to rebuild civilisation, came with feelings of pride and sorrow. Sorrow for the people who weren’t chosen, what will they do? What will happen to them? Mr Keller tried to ignore these feelings, and just remember that his family was safe.
Alex Dobson
The Separation
Little Theo lay silently in his cot with the soothing sounds of tweets from birds playing down from the mobile which Denise and I had bought only 2 weeks before; listening to every word Denise said, my head was like a bomb ready to explode. Recently, I’d been fired from my old job as a grittier and now moved into a trade of war. Over the past year or so, I’d been training and it was increasingly becoming harder leading up to a promotion only to lead to being told next Thursday I was heading out to
Rebecca Duggan McDonald
Creative Writing
I rose, from what I would want to be a wakeless slumber to find myself once again in the pit I have slept in alone, day after day. I threw myself down the hard, cold wooden floor and poured a bowl of bland cereal, I never did like cereal but all that nattering on from the doctors about my ‘heart’ it’s my life but it feels as if though I haven’t any freedom. Then to the daily winter ritual of scrapping the frost from my window screen, but no matter how vigorously I scraped it would not come off, it just stuck there glistening in the light, almost mesmerising. Never mind my closest friend can come in handy, he talks to me more than other person does anyway, click, my friend had boiled and I slowly poured his contents onto the car being careful not to scold myself. There it was, over, probably the most effection I was going to get all day over; my car roared to a start and drove out of the driveway towards the soul destroying hell hole id dread to venture to everyday.
Jacob Foster
“Come on, Emily, we are going to be late for the concert!”
“Oh shut up, I am on the phone to Alex, I am just finishing my conversation.”
“But we are going to be late!”
Oh why are sisters so maddening, they are like seagulls always making loud noises when you don’t need to hear them perched on your window sill at some ungodly hour in the morning? All they want to do is use your possessions and rush you when you need to look your best.
“I’ve got to go Alex, I am going to a concert with my sister and she says we are going to be late.”
Sophie Garside
Gemma Knight
Not So Lucky
I swiftly opened my eyes whilst a bright light shone on my face through the window. It hurt my eyes as it felt like I hadn’t seen the sun before. Where was I? The room was dull, with only a bed and a bedside cabinet. I heard footsteps from the corridor increasing in intensity. A tall, young man with neatly combed hair, appeared at the door looking astonished. He looked like a perfectionist who was also very optimistic. This made me smile, as I believed I was in good hands.
“Good morning Miss Wilson. Are you alright? How does is feel to be awake?”
I didn’t understand. The room started to move as I began to feel sick.
“We have been waiting for you to wake up for 2 months now, but I do have some bad news.”
What was going on?
“I am afraid you have severe memory loss of New Year’s Eve; the reason you were in a coma.”
My mind was racing through all the events in my life but I could not remember that night. A cold sensation raced through my body as I stared at the man with shock.
“What happened to me?” I asked slowly.
“Can you not remember anything at all?” Replied the Doctor.
I closed my eyes and used all my will power to remember.
Gemma Knight
Creative Writing coursework.
Dark eyes of repulsion, that’s what I was looking into. immense, dark-brown raging eyes of hate biting into me. His teeth gritted as he spoke, his spit hitting me in the face as each daunting word came out of his mouth. Is she really going to just stand there and let this happen?
I froze as I watched her face move from side to side as a cold stinging slap hit both her cheeks; I tried to move but my feet pulled me back. Why wouldn’t they move? It’s as if they were stuck down with glue. Her eyes were red raw, yet she wouldn’t cry. She looked at me for help; I looked away as I knew it would be too painful to watch my little girl in so much pain. I looked at the man beating her, the man I had married and the man I thought would bring me happiness. I didn’t recognise him; it was like a demon had burst into his body and he couldn’t control himself.
Lauren McKee
English Coursework – Creative Writing
I was born and built in 1931, on Fifth Avenue, in the “city of what dreams are made of”, “the city that never sleeps”, New York City. I was the tallest of my kind and watched others being built around me suitably impressed at the time with their enormity. However, ultimately I was the superior one, almost like the God towering above everyone else, leaving them in my shadow. I was The ‘Empire State Building’. It had dawned on me now for a while that I been given a specific title – The Tallest Skyscraper in New York – I held this title in my grasp for decades and I was proud of the fact. But among this there was a slight arrogance within my soul in the fact that man over the years had been gathering enough technology to start building bigger, better, more superior Skyscrapers than myself; then in 1971 across the city it was me put into the shadows as The World Trade Center was built, it was perfect and in more than one way I envied it. The tall towers stood over the city, stood guard, everyone and everything looked up to them.
Adam Moore
Through A Soldier’s Eyes
Amy Moss
Death. I know it’s coming. Coming for me. Like some sort of hungry beast, waiting to capture its next victim. I knew it would soon be my time, I could feel it. I could almost hear the wind whispering to me, ‘not long now.’ It was right; I was a ticking time bomb. Days, hours, minutes left. A bomb exploded, shrapnel soared through the sky, free like a bird. I wasn’t free, anything but that. A prisoner, glued to the trenches. I knew there was only one way to escape this nightmare. Death.
Amy Moss
Acceptance or Rage?
As I stood there waiting for an answer like a lion waiting for its prey, contemplating whether she was dead or alive, I already knew that my life would forever change on that night. The real question was “how?” Would it be for the better? Would it be for the worse? I couldn’t answer these questions. Only the doctor could crush these antagonising thoughts driving me to insanity.
He came out of the operating theatre covered in blood, her blood. The look on his face pretty much confirmed my horrors, but just to be sure all I had to say was one word: “Well?” After staring at me for a few seconds he finally seemed to find the courage to say “I’m sorry. We did all that we possibly could.” My eyes shed tears. My throat closed up. My heart stopped. I needed some time alone, but not for the rest of my life. I asked myself “What now?”
M Murphy
Ever wondered how you are going to die? Myself - always. Of all ways, this was the least I would have expected. My life couldn’t have got any worse…… my father was sinister, immoral and worst of all a coward. My mother on the other hand, was stunning, hard-working and affectionate. No matter how tempted I was, I could have never told her; she didn’t have the slightest clue.
Ever felt full of regret, guilty, sinful? Myself - always. What I had done is going to hang over my head for the rest of my life, like the sword of Damocles. It’s all over now - gone forever. I have to live with the fact that I took my daughter’s life away from her. Not literally - but for the time she was alive. Questions often whirl round and round in my mind. Did I feel I had power? Why couldn’t I have been a loving, caring father to the life I had made? What was she thinking? Did she wish she was never even born?
I couldn’t remember much from the previous days. My family and friends were still in Norway, where it was safe. As I was taken away, none of them had shouted or cried for help; possibly fearing a similar fate. I was taken from my roots and discarded on a titanic vessel resting on the waters on the edge of my native soil, ready to wake in the hustle and bustle of some callous and sinister place. The forbidding beasts that transported me here transformed as the course of my voyage continued, they passed me on as if playing some kind of sickening game. They washed me, made me look presentable. Now, I stand on this rigid floor, cold eyes staring at me like the dark abyss ready to engulf me into their world of materialism and false idols. I observe closely as some form of offering is given to my captors in return for one like me. My time is coming; I know I shall be migrated to a new home soon. Another unfamiliar place - most probably one of great cruelty and malice.
J Nixon
The story of my life
Every time I tell this story, it pains me. It brings back the painful memories like another bruise adding to the collection. I reveal this in hope that maybe somewhere another person will realise they need help. I was stuck, I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Even when having to think about it, it’s like a knife lunging into my heart, a lasting pain that will never abandon me.
When talking to a child and asking of their earliest memory, most of the time they would reply to you with uncontrolled excitement, telling you of something unforgettable. If you were to ask me and my younger sister of our earliest memory, you are guaranteed in hearing something you didn’t wish to hear and maybe then thinking, “ I shouldn’t have asked that”. Our life has been truly eventful!
Sophie Parkin. Victim
Looking on towards the vicious creatures, I see the downfall of society strolling casually in front of me. The creatures are eating away at the world; individually picking one piece of the puzzle out, one by one until unable to hold itself up, it plunges and life becomes no more. I can see what will happen if these beasts carry on like this, without a care, carrying on with their battle to become superior than each other but in the end none winning, all defeated.
I sat solitary in my very own arctic circle, embracing the cold which engulfs me; each shiver down my spine sends a second of warmth to my body but not for long. My body rapidly deteriorating as people walk past, carrying on with their own lives, not giving a thought towards the hat lying there with my fate in its hands. The gaping hole lay there with its eyes piercing at me telling me to give up but I couldn't; my life was not over yet and nor did I intend for it to be. My childhood brought me here; to this place. Thinking back to my early days, my heart plunged, my life had never been adequate, I was a lonely child. Growing up experiences were very strenuous. My life would never avail, I guess I should have just given up when I could...
Sophie Parkin
Original writing.
We all knew that from the day she was born she would be different. She’d go through the most horrible manner of existence and no matter how hard we tried to help her, we all knew it would end in heart break. Yes it shall hurt the family, hit us all hard, but they can’t just forget about me. I mean I’m still here. I’ll provide them with the love that they need and it’s not like I’m trying to throw her out of our life because even though she’s dying she’s my sister, my best friend and nobody can ever forget her.
Oh here I am yet again facing the same old halls, same old odour, same old feelings. This is the only comprehensible part of my life, the hospital. The only part I can really remember. The drugs, the needles, the pain will stay with me forever, haunting all of my thoughts. I know I shouldn’t be alive now. I should have joined the cue of dead people on the corridors awaiting transportation to their resting place. When I was younger, my persistent mother never gave up. Maybe that’s a reason why I hate her at times. Why wouldn’t she let me die? Why wouldn’t she leave me? It’s not like I could ever tell her that. It would achieve nothing except break her heart.
Laura Power
Imogen Prince- Original Writing Coursework
I broke down inside and thought his joke of using our favourite Coldplay lyrics didn't lighten the mood at all. "Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part". Yes, I’m sure that's what he thought as he lay there and broke my heart in two. He was so selfish for giving up, he could have fought more and maybe we'd still be here, together.
I walked into the hall, prepared for another boring two hours of exams- question, after question, after question, a dull repetitive trawl through life was awaiting me. I was getting quite literally sick of it all but luckily it was the last one for a few months or so. I began to take my earphones out and turn off my music when all of a sudden, CRASH, I bumped into someone. As I was picking up all my notes and books up off the floor I heard a deep voice apologize and ask if I was all right. I looked up and replied with a smil,e "Yes I'm fine, sorry for bumping into you". He smiled and before he got a chance to reply we were hurried off to our seats. As I sat down I questioned who the person was as I'd never seen him around here before and if I was being honest with myself he was very good looking. The exam started and my head was buried in a pile of questions but the person I had bumped into was still lurking in the back of my mind.
Kane Reeves – Creative Writing – 10T – English Coursework
The Earth was home to six million human beings, until it got the better of us. Life had always been ordinary (if such a thing exists) until I was around 19 – that’s when it struck. Nobody knows how it came about, and nobody’s left to find out. In a way I miss my family and friends but at least now I had no work, no fraudulent governments and no worries. Well, apart from one – staying alive and existing in this bizarre, surreal state.
RULE 1# LOOK AFTER NUMBER ONE
I was a skinny nobody when normality existed; approximately 5 feet .9 inches and had brown curly hair. I had a few friends but many were just acquaintances; spending
Most of my time at home on my Xbox or watching television. I was never what one may call an emotional, poignant person or even merely a strong person, I just kept myself to myself and existed in a dull, matter of fact way.
Kane Reeves
Creative Writing- Message Sent…
Hi, I’m Ellie. I’m nothing special, just your average 14-year-old teenager. I’ve lived a happy, normal life up till now. Up until the text messages started that is. I have been having text messages, malevolent text messages sent to me over the past few weeks; the problem is – I don’t have a clue who they’re off. I’ve considered maybe that they have been sent to the wrong person; I mean I am just quiet, diminutive Ellie. I’ve never upset anybody. But then the messages started to include my name, so that was that idea cast straight out of the window.
Hi, I’m a mobile phone. Nothing special, just your average phone. I’ve had a happy existence, up until now that is. Until I started being abused in the most awful way. During the past few weeks, I’m being made to send text messages to a young girl, called Ellie. Malicious text messages. Ellie doesn’t know my master, my master is just a devious, vindictive bully but of course I cannot tell her to stop; I mean come on, I’m just a small, defenceless, modest mobile phone.
The separation
This was like a nightmare little Theo would have wakening me and Denise in the early hours of a Saturday morning; I had not informed anyone yet about the dreadful news. I wanted to keep it to myself, retained in a secret place where nobody could find it. I had to tell Denise; she wasn’t only my precious girlfriend she was my guardian angel. The heartbreaking news smacked Denise painfully, sending excruciating pains through her min; as soon as it came out of my mouth, floods of tears fell onto the flowery pink duvet we lay on.
Not At All Psychedelic
I walked into the restaurant, well heeled, affluent gentry resting languidly, obviously inebriated, with one thing on my mind: to collect the utensils I needed. None of the intricate ornaments or golden candelabras caught my eye as a plan formed in my head. A waiter took me to my seat and handed me a menu. I completely ignored the vague descriptions offered, which used ‘delicate’ and ‘seasoned with’ far too many times and turned my attention to the prices. The cheapest I thought. The waiter returned and I placed my order. A bread role freshly baked on site and served with real butter, sourced from local farms. The waiter, almost as fast as she appeared, disappeared into the kitchens, scurrying with an eagerness to please.
He just sat there and drummed his fingers almost into the table. He must be up to something, I thought to myself. The look of his clothes, his hair and his hat made me incredible nervous. I had a direct view from the kitchen port hole in the door. Just the look of him sent alarm bells ringing in my head; his almost drunken existence frightened me. This was a prime example of the kids my mum told me to say away from as a child.
Blakeley Tonge
I didn't know how much more my body could take. I'm Trapped, I have no control, or say, in what I'm doing. When she wants to stay in, we stay in. When she wants to go out, we go out. She decides how much energy I have and when I have it: it's not fair, I’m sick of it, I'd much rather die.
It was a Friday, usually I'd go out but tonight she'd decided I was staying in and in addition to this, I wasn't allowed to eat tonight, not a thing. I didn't understand: why me? She was obsessed, totally obsessed with me. She never left my side, everywhere I went she was there, when I slept, washed, saw friends or family: I'd become her life, a life I think she wanted to capture. We had a past, I had crossed wires with her before but I got rid of her the first time. I fought her, I won, She'd wore me away then…belittled me…chastised me….chased me. However, I came back, became me again but this time she had really caught me, caught me for good. Maybe this time she will succeed in her goal, her goal to wear me down, till I was nothing. I didn't think anyone, anything, was able to do what she was doing.. She had total control, but I'm the man? Supposedly the strong one but in reality I guess not.
Life Support
Where am I? What is this place? Well, it doesn’t seem familiar. I had better go and explore this place that is seemingly very foreign to me. Why is this? How come I am unable to move? This sheet of rock that lies upon me, trapping me; I am unable to see beyond the peculiar space I lie in.
I could hear the door opening with the discreet, almost muted, creek and the scent of flowers that wafted through the room: a smell I remembered vaguely. The scent became quite familiar now as I realised it was the fragrance my wife always wore.
“And how are you this morning Mr Andrews? I shall open the blinds to let some light in, Your wife should be here this afternoon and the doctor said he could come to inform her on how you are doing.” The voice was somewhat strange yet held some memories in the depths of my mind. It was one which had entered my life on a regular basis during recent days but was not the female voice I wanted to hear from the most.
Daniella Worsley
