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A number of our pupils were prize-winners in the Rupert Brooke creative competition organised by Rugby School. Each year, the students are given a theme and may choose any format or genre of writing to submit as a competition entry. This year, the theme was leisure - and the entrants interpreted this in many and varied ways. Here you may read two of our entries, both highly commended by the judges: Ghadia Malik's inspired short story and Leah Edwards' beautiful and lyrical poem. The Holiday in My Notebook The summer sun bathes us in its warm glow, The long grass sways to and fro, The gentle waves of the sea shimmer, From the sand I glimpse a swimmer, I see a graceful dolphin leap, Its tail gives a playful sweep, Here I stand upon the bay, Enjoying this wonderful holiday. I finished writing my poem. My heart thumped with excitement, my whole body tingled with happiness; I was thrilled. I was popcorn popping out of the pan, and as energetic as a flower that had just been watered. I couldn’t wait to start my own holiday, it was the time every child longs for; the summer holidays! Every year mum and dad picked somewhere amazing, unique and unforgettable to visit… I picked up my notebook this was where I wrote down stories, poems, songs, dreams, and drew; but also basically anything else I wanted. I closed my eyes… at once my mind filled with colour, magic, dreams and imagination. What should I draw? When I opened my eyes I knew exactly what to draw: Africa. I started with the simple, dry, brown earth; it was occasionally cracked but usually quite smooth. The fiery sun filled the sky with the colour of sparkling crimson rubies and yellow topazes. A towering but not intimidating banyan tree gave a cool shade from the blazing orb in the sky. I imagined that I was sitting in the shade of the beautiful banyan tree watching graceful giraffes nibbling from the top of the banyan tree, making a soft rustling sound. Just then a group of elephants came stomping by. One of them let me ride on its back. It gently pushed me up with its trunk; its dark intelligent eyes were full of understanding. Its grey, firm, wrinkled skin helped me grip onto it as it moved slowly but steadily forwards – I was the queen of the world when I was on that elephant’s back; I wasn’t sky high, but I felt as if I could fly… …I turned the page over. Where else could we go? Maybe somewhere peaceful and traditional, with a culture completely new to our own. I had decided: Japan. I sketched the small pink blossoms onto a cherry blossom tree which stood tall over a calm blue lake. A fisherman paddled his boat through the water sending ripples and tiny water droplets over the once smooth, untouched water. My imagination took me to the bench on the lakeside, there I sat and watched the fisherman cast his large net into the water and then haul it in; full of colourful, struggling fish. He emptied the net into a woven basket and got ready to repeat the process again. After some time I became aware of a soft tapping on my shoulder, I turned to see a geisha smiling warmly at me; she was wearing a long flowing silk kimono which was turquoise and intricately embroidered with exotic flowers it was fastened at the chest down to the waist with an emerald green sash. Her long raven black hair was held back in a bun with golden jewelled hair pins. She also wore colourful makeup and held a fan, embroidered with a hummingbird, lotus blossoms and intricate patterns. On her feet she wore geta – Japanese platform shoes. She led me to a table in a beautiful flower garden. She poured steaming green tea into small bowls called gaiwans, she also let me eat some sushi. I felt so calm and relaxed here… …I turned the page over. Where should I pick next? The next place I chose was: America. I began with a clear blue sky and a hot sun. The buildings were tall and the roads were wide. This was New York; the Big Apple. The statue of liberty stood tall and symbolic in New York Harbour, she held her proud head high but held her torch higher. I imagined I was right there next to her. I was an ant she was an elephant; compared to lady liberty I was extremely insignificant. I wondered if I could do a daring deed… climb all the way to the top of lady liberty – without using the stairs. I had a grappling hook, so I swung it around my head to gain power and then threw it as far as I could – It landed some way up on her long robe. I tugged… it stayed. Since I was wearing my climbing boots it was easy enough to grip onto the statue. Slowly, step-by-step I made my way up ‘Don’t look down,’ I told myself ‘Just don’t look down.’ I was trembling so much and the air up there was so cold, without thinking I turned my head round and looked down. My stomach churned and I began to feel dizzy; I had forgotten my fear of heights. I shook my head and turned around. I was shaking terribly now, what if I fell? I gulped down my fear, ‘Just get on with it, you can do it, don’t give up, there’s no going back now.’ I thought, trying to encourage myself. Somehow, I got halfway up; the grappling hook was in reach now. I pulled it down and aimed for the head, it landed perfectly. By now I was exhausted, but I had to keep going; my hair, skin and clothes were drenched with sweat and I was panting, but I kept climbing, gradually I got closer and closer. At the top of the head I pulled the grappling hook off one of the eleven points on her crown. One more step to go; I threw the grappling hook expertly onto the torch. From here I climbed with comparative ease, although I was exhausted. After some climbing, I had made it! I was standing on lady liberty’s torch! I couldn’t believe it! My heart was filled with a sense of achievement like no other; I had done something extraordinary, I had made my name in history and I was as happy as a king. I was ecstatic, exhilarated, and light-hearted. I cried out in happiness “I’VE MADE THE IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE!” Now I would be remembered alongside the most famous people ever; like Michael Jackson! This was unbelievable! … …I closed my notebook. I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Dad opened my bedroom door. His face was solemn. “I’m afraid to say, we won’t be able to go on holiday this year… I am very busy and I have a lot of important work to do.” I could tell by his solid, obstinate tone that his decision was as changeable as the weather. I was overcome by disappointment, but then I remembered the amazing holiday I had had in my notebook, my expression changed completely, the sides of my lips turned upwards; I smiled happily; and you know why, don’t you? By Ghadia Malik The Violin It calls to me, Crying softly as I enter the room. It’s there in the corner, A brown shapely body Bathed in a pool of golden light, Dust sleepily spiralling downwards. The sobs of loneliness from its coffin-like case Tear at my heartstrings, Drawing me closer. So I succumb to it. And feel the anticipation As I helplessly lift it out of the case. Absentmindedly I run my fingers over its perfect curves Hard wood against my soft white flesh Yearning to be played. Slowly, gently I draw my bow across a string, Relishing the sound As it rings through the air, Shattering the delicate silence. My fingers Caressing the fingerboard, Move as if by magic, Beyond my control. But I don’t stop them. The blissful music Fills the empty room, Coursing through my veins, Painting pictures on the ceiling. I feel alive. I could do this forever. By Leah Edwards
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