1 R i g h t SHORT t o W r i t e STORIES PERSUASIVEESSAYS Play Scripts CROSSWORDS Word Searches POETRY 2022 / Volume 1 / Autumn Term TheHallSchool
2 CONTENTS Congratulationsto the many talented authorswhose work has been published in the inaugural copy of the Right to Write.Not all entriescould be published and we encourage those who were not to please apply again in future terms. YEARFOUR Crossword by Cesar daRosa...................................................................................................................................4 TheTiger by JamesPitman......................................................................................................................................5 Survival by Jack Curtis...........................................................................................................................................6 TheZombieby Finlay Tyler....................................................................................................................................8 TheCountrysidein Autumn by CharlieJoye........................................................................................................10 Autumn by Ben Hiseman.......................................................................................................................................11 TheSpirits by Finlay Hutchings............................................................................................................................12 TheHall School Crossword by Daniel Sprake......................................................................................................13 YEARFIVE Emil and theDetectivesby Mikhail Prosyankin....................................................................................................14 Realm of Evil by Isaac Dean..................................................................................................................................15 Duraclesand theSatlan by Mihir Agarwal............................................................................................................16 Inside, OutsideMeby Theodor Reiner..................................................................................................................18 At Last by LoucasKatsoulis..................................................................................................................................19 TheHall School Crossword by William Edwards.................................................................................................20 YEARSIX Stray Cat and Posh Cat by Aarian Gudka..............................................................................................................21 Let usProtect Our Endangered Animals by BertieDuralski-Cross.......................................................................22 Sparks in theSky Crossword by Raphael Hussain............................................................................................... 23
3 YEARSEVEN Word Search by Jasper Penderis............................................................................................................................24 Alliteration Poem by GeorgePitman.....................................................................................................................25 TimeWars by Ishaan Patel.....................................................................................................................................26 YEAREIGHT TheSnail by Axl Funk...........................................................................................................................................27 TheIsland by Ben Gu............................................................................................................................................28 Snoozeby MaanasSwarup....................................................................................................................................29 TheLost Letter by Armaan Malde.........................................................................................................................30 Rishi Sunak isPrimeMinister - Now What?by Conor O'Sullivan.......................................................................32 TheLetter by Leo Fulton.......................................................................................................................................34 Moonriver by MaanasSwarup...............................................................................................................................36 A SPECIAL MENTION Thank you to theediting team, comprised of Nathan Boucard, Kevin Yang-Dente, Nathan Joseph, Jasper Penderis, Christian Lonberg, TomasDemiguel-Perez, GeorgePitman, AlexandreRaynal and JamesHassan. Theediting team would liketo thank MissEarly and Dr Luckhurst for their guidancethroughout thepublication process, Mr Pinkus for theconcept of an English termly magazineand Mr Godwin for his support of the publication. Welook forward to this becoming atermly tradition at TheHall.
4 ByCesar da Rosa
5 THETIGER BYJAMESPITMAN Thepack sleep in thetreetops, Thepack sprint till their kneespop. Thefamily strives forward together, Thefamily dives forward together. Thefleas flit around thecubs' paws, Thefleasavoid theparents' claws. Themale pushes thehunt along, Thefemales protect their precious throng. Adults eat first, furiously, and fast Cubs get themeatiest flesh, at last. At sunset, thetiger pack, homefor the night. They dream of theday behind them, till thefirst light.
6 S U R V I V A L Sweat dripped down my face aswemarched through the woods. It wasasunny, tiring, muggy day and what made it worsewas that weweredoing hardcoretraining for thearmy. Our wholecountry knew we would beat war soon and one man from each family had to go. Timesweretough in 1957, but thingswereabout to get a wholelot tougher. Our country had been bad enemies with Francefor many years but at thispoint weabsolutely hated them. ?Just ten more miles left,?our Captain bellowed. Everyonegroaned. All of us wished wecould haveabreak, but theCaptain refused and said, ?Keep on marching unless you want your country to bedestroyed.? At last, we got to our camp, and I said to my friend Joe ?that was theworst?, and he agreed. Thenext morning, our Captain announced that our country was officially at war, and that wehad to fly the planes tomorrow at 7:00 am. I dreaded that moment of flying aplane. I had never doneit before, and I never wanted to do it either. But I had to. ?Today,?theCaptain said, ?wewill learn how to fly a plane. For thosewho have doneit before, giveme5 laps of thecamp.?I was trying to get excited about learning how to fly aplane. I mean, it?s good to try something new. Wespent theentireday learning how to fly aplane, but I didn?t really understand how to fly one, so I just kept quiet. Welearnt about how to steer, how to know when the right timeis to press the buttons and about using the pedals. It was aday full of action that I will never forget. By Jack Curtis 4, 3, 2, 1, 4, 3, 2, 1
7 Thenext day theCaptain read out alist of who would fly the planes. I hoped for dear life that it wouldn't beme. As the Captain read out thenames my nerveswereshaking even harder. ?Dilan Stones, ishe here??theCaptain asked. ?Yep, that'sme,?I replied. ?You?reflying planeC,?the Captain commanded. I braced myself, ?This is it,?I thought, ?I must do this for my country.?As I walked over to planeC, I looked up and saw atowering wing hovering abovemy head. ?No!?I groaned. I took adeep breath and stepped into thecockpit. It wasan amazing view of the camp becausefrom whereI was sitting, I wasquitehigh up. I could seetheCaptain chatting with theco-captain about something. I realized that Joewas in planeD which was theonenext to mine. ?It?s scary, right??I asked. ?It is,? hereplied. Suddenly alarge speaker bellowed, ?Ten secondsuntil takeoff!? I panicked; I had 10 seconds to get everything ready. How could that bepossible! ?5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO!?Therewas suddenly abig noiseof engines turning on, and off we went. It was time for the flight. Aswewereflying, I was struggling to keep up with the rest of theteam. I could already tell it would beabad flight. I was looking around and spotted aglimpseof smokecoming from my engine. My planestarted crashing down towards the fields below, fast. I started panicking as I couldn?t find theparachutes. Therest of the people on my planestarted murmuring, ?What?sgoing on?What arewegoing to do?? ?Here,?I said, ?Takethe parachutes. 3, 2, 1, jump!? Thehowling wind was blowing in our facebut none of us cared. Wejust wanted to get back down to Earth. When we landed, theonly word I could make out was ?Wow.?I looked at my team and the first thing I said was ?Is everyoneokay??Weall looked over at Owen. I could seethat hewas hurt. ?Owen? Are you okay?Owen, wake up, we cannot do thiswithout you. Owen, comeon,? I pleaded...
8 T H E Z O M B I E Jack wasat school oneday and hewas finding his lesson very boring. He decided that in theafternoon hewas going to play truant with his friend Theo. At thenext break time, Jack told Theo of his plan as to how they would both disappear without being noticed. Theo was very keen to join Jack and agreed that during lunch timethey would both escapefrom theschool grounds over alow part of the wall which Jack had spotted earlier. Jack and Theo decided five minutesbeforethebell was dueto ring, they would make an escape. At fiveto oneJack nodded to Theo and cautiously looked around to make surenoneof their classmateswere watching. Jack and Theo pretended a ball had goneinto thecorner of theplayground and used this to distract attention from theothers. Jack and Theo quickly slipped over thewall and once over theother sidethey carefully peered over thewall to ensure no onehad spotted their escape. Onceeverything looked clear they ran across theroad towardsan abandoned housewhich Jack had told Theo about previously. Oncethey arrived at the house, they tried to gain entry, although this was difficult becausethehousewas boarded up with wood. Jack and Theo looked around for an implement to help them to break in. OnceJack and Theo entered thehouse, they realised there was no electricity, however, therewas sufficient natural light from thebroken window they had destroyed. They didn?t realise theneighbour watching them who had called thepolice. By Finlay Tyler
9 Both Jack and Theo werevery frightened as thereweresome weird noises in thehouse which they didn?t think were from thewind outside. Thenext thing theboysheard weresirens. Theboys tried to escape, however, they fell through atrapdoor which dropped them into thecellar. Although it waspitch black, they could seeno way out. They then heard noises coming from afew feet away and werevery frightened as they could make out theshape of ahuman. Theshapewas coming towards them. Theboyswere frozen on thespot when the shapegrabbed both boysby their necks. Theboyswere struggling to breathewhen the boy's heard gunshot from abovethem which they assumed was from thepolice as they had heard sirens. Suddenly two police officers entered thecellar with torches and managed to freetheboys from thezombie?s grip, however, thezombie grabbed oneof thepolice officers. As theother policeofficer tried to go to theothersaid, the zombiehad already bitten his colleague. This turned the other policeofficer into a zombie. As thesecond police officer went towards thezombie, he wasalso grabbed by the zombieand bitten. Thismeant therewerenow threezombies on theloose. Theboys saw no other choicebut to run. Theboysmanaged to clamber up thewall, and although the zombies tried to prevent their escapethe boysmanaged to freethemselvesand clamber out of thewindow and ran back to their school to alert their teachers, but it was too late. Thewhole neighbourhood had turned into zombies. Jack and Theo ran to Jack?shouseand locked thedoor behind him. ?How arewegoing to defeat thesezombies!??Jack muttered. Theo whispered something into Jack?sear. After Theo had donethat, Jack screamed NO but it was too late. Theo had goneto distract thezombies. ?I have to do this!" Jack said under hisbreath. He ran back to the abandoned house. ?You.?he said expressionlessly to the zombie. Jack ran at thezombie but at his touch thezombie exploded! Thewholetown returned to normal! ?Thank you so much,?Thetown said to him. But they didn?t realize thelast zombie police officer...
10 THECOUNTRYSIDEIN AUTUMN BYCHARLIEJOYE Misty fog on thehorizon. Many golden yellow trees. Theorangesky filled with clouds up ahead. A church spirecomes closer and closer. Shining stars in thesky. Thepower lines forever expanding besidehedgerows that never end. A kitebird circling thecrop. Thewinding road that takesushome.
11 A U T U M N BYBEN HISEMAN Red leavesdancing, Long branchesprancing, All thetrees, Arelosing their leaves. Finally, theholiday hasarrived! Carsarepacked, and wedrive To agreen place. Loud barking fills my ear, As my old fluffy friend comes running near. Cosy lunchesgalore, Walkson thewindy shore, Toasted marshmallows too, From thecrackling fireweblew. Bikeridethrough adirty puddle, Oh no, herecomes trouble! Fluffy clouds in the sky, Flying akite, up, up high! Now my birthday isnear, Halloween ishere! Glowing pumpkins fill the street, Welove to trick or treat! Asautumn is closing, And herecomes thesnow, I can hear Santabooming, HOHOHO!
12 Many centuriesago, here lived aboy called Max. Hewasa twelve-year-old who had short glistening brown hair and hiseyeswerea crystal bluecolour. One day, Max waswalking around when hewas immediately struck by a small, blue, thin rod of shiny lightning and minutes later, hewas gone! When hewoke up, hewas in ahugecastle madeof strong stone bricks. Max carefully stood up and peered out. Therewasnothing there, just thick whitemist. Hewalked slowly and carefully down thedark, creepy hallway when he saw an old man with a long scruffy beard and a very wrinkled face. ?Hello, Max,?hesaid in adeep voice, ?I am Fazilord, theguardian of thethreespirits. You must help mebecause thethreespiritshave escaped.?Hepaused. ?Who arethey??Max questioned. ?Blaze, Coleand Splat, they represent fire, earth and water,?Fazilord said. ?How can I help??Max asked, feeling very excited. After many minutes of silenceFazilord spoke, ?I shall giveyou powers so you can facethethree spirits.? ?Ok!?exclaimed Max. ?Areyou ready young one?? ?Yes!?said Max. Fazilord started to move hishands round and round in theair and created ashiny white portal. Out of it camean orb. Theorb floated around and shot into Max?s chest. ?Ahhh!?he wailed but seconds later it stopped. Everything went back to normal. ?I-I feel thesame,?he said. ?Focus your eyeson this rock,?Fazilord said wisely. So, Max did as hesaid but now red-hot laser beams came out of hiseyes. ?Now try to lift that hugeboulder, then run around thecastle.? So again, helodged his hand under, and helifted it. Max then ran around but hewas so quick he couldn?t seeanything passhim. ?Thoseare your powers,?Fazilord said, ?usethem to capturethespirits.? When hegot back, he peered through his window and saw all threespirits smashing catsand houses. So, he sprinted downstairs and burst open the door. ?Stop!?hescreamed as heran towards them. But suddenly awall appeared in front of him. Max punched it away and stood back but Blaze sent ahot fireball at him. Max dodged it then shot lasersat it. Splay sent a hugewaveto block it and it also hit Max. Max fell to the ground sputtering. Soon Max wokeup on theroad and thespirits weretheretoo. Quickly, hegot up and tried to stop them by making a small hurricane, but it did no harm. Then he quickly had an idea and shot hisown hand next to speed up on thespot. Then herocketed at them and punched them hard and they fell to thefloor. Max ran over and put them in aportal that appeared. Out of it appeared Fazilord. ?Well done, you captured them,?hesaid. ?Yes - yes, I did.? ?Goodbye,?said Fazilord. ?Seeyou around, old man.? And theportal disappeared with aflash. Thenext day, Max was feeling very proud becausehehad saved the day. Suddenly, once again, Max was struck by lightning and appeared in thecastle, and hewent to theroom with Fazilord. ?Thank you young one,? Fazilord said quietly, ?but I need thepowers back,?hesaid. ?Fine,?said Max. They weregoneand Max went home. Hewould always remember hispowers, thefeeling of prideand themysteriousFazilord. THE SPIRITS By Finlay Hutchings
13 THE HALL SCHOOL Complete the crossword below by Daniel Sprake.
14 EMILAND THEDETECTIVES Emil andTheDetectivesisa funny, entertaining, and mysteriousbook for children aged 7-10. It isan adventurousand action-packed detective book written by Erich Kastner in 1928 with plot twistsalong theway. Emil is themain character, and heisabrave, caring, cheerful boy. Emil gets sent to Berlin on the holidays to visit hisaunt, grandma, uncle, and cousin. On theway to Berlin some unexpected thingshappen, the money hemust giveto his grandmais stolen, hegets out at thewrong train station, he catches oneof themost wanted criminalsand much more. This book teaches you never to giveup and even if sometroublehappens to keep going and not to stop. It also shows friendship and teaches you to carefor your family. I enjoyed reading thisbook becauseit was amusing and showed great endeavour from kids in thecity of Berlin. I especially liked thepart when Emil and hisdetective friends werespying on thetrain thief in thehotel. I really recommend you read it becauseit isafantastic book set in Germany across different cities. Thisbook is oneof thebest books I have ever read. There isonly one problem: you cannot put it down! By Mikhail Prosyankin
15 When I ventured down to therealm of evil, dark and deep, I put on my braveface, forbade myself to weep. My profilewas tall and unafraid, concealing all that lay within, But when I met amonster, fear prickled under my skin. From themonster?seyes roseanger and menace, Its clawswerekeen; its teeth tremendous, Its body was strong, fearsometo extreme, This monster was the king, the creaturesupreme. When I ventured down to therealm of evil, dark and deep, Thebusheshad withered and scorched to aheap, All was blood red for as far as I could see, It truly wasabone-chilling placeto be. Theterrain wasbathed in adesolate glow, Thearid highlands of evil, a loathsomeplateau. My head caved in and seemed to squeeze, I doubled over and started to wheeze. When I ventured down to the realm of evil, dark and deep, I tried to escape, but terror prevented my leap. Themonster camecloser till a hair?s-breath away, Ready to feast, and ready to slay. I no longer felt intrepid, only scared and meek, Darkness flooded in as my fear reached its peak. I sank to the floor as the monster descended, As I closed my eyes, theworld seemingly ended. REALM OFEVIL By Isaac Dean
16 Onehot summer?sevening in Ancient Greece, the princeof Argoswas walking along a backstreet alleyway, back to the castle. Theking had warned him never to take this shortcut, but heneeded to get homesoon. Heheard ascraping sound behind a pileof discarded sandals but thought nothing of it. In asecond, hewas lying dead on apileof sandals with an engraved arrow protruding from hisneck, drenched in hisown crimson blood. King Queleas II cried. He grieved all day onceword got to him. Thenext in line to thethronewasDuracles, Queleas?nephew. Duracles wasan archer. Most of the peoplein Argos considered him weak becausearchery wasasign onedidn?t want to fight up close. Most Argosianswere apprehensivethat Duracles was next in line, but when someArgosians started spreading rumoursabout him, onevillager cameup with aplan to make Duraclesprovehisworth. A terrifying beast called the Satlan was ravaging the outer edgesof Argos. The villager called up atown meeting whereheinvited theking to sharehis opinion. ?I propose, to makehim provehisworth, wesend PrinceDuracleson aquest to slay theSatlan, and comeback with 3 pitchers filled to thebrim with its blood. As you know, it has healing properties beyond compare. Any objections?? thevillager announced. Thehall fell silent, which was quitean accomplishment, considering that thousands of people had packed into that grand hall. Even the king nodded hishead in agreement. ?All in favour??Thehead of the Argosian council asked. Thehall erupted in a barrageof yeses, and the older membersof the meeting silently raised their hands. Thenext morning, when Duracleswent to the palace, King Queleas II relayed thenews to him. Duracleswasoutraged. ?How could you agree to this!?hescreamed. But the act wasdone, and there wasnothing Duracles could do. ?You leave tomorrow,?the king said, calm as ever. Then he walked away. Duracles surrounded himself with storiesof the Satlan, and attempted to glean as much information ashecould from them. All themyths and legends had onething in common: the Satlan appeared asa cloaked demon with red eyesand ascythe, like Death himself. Duracles slept in thepalace that night. In themorning, theking provided him with an armed escort until they reached theforests of outer Argos. Argoswas small, and even though they left at noon, thesoldiers arrived back before daybreak. Duraclesapproached the forest. It was dark and foreboding, and there wasn?t aliving thing for milesaround. Bow raised and arrow at the ready, he took up adefensivestance until hewas certain the Satlan was far away. He carried seven pitchers of water, which hewould then fill with theSatlan?s blood after he killed it. Duracles, still with his bow raised, edged closer. Soon he stared into a massive expanseof blackness: the forest. Heheard a beckoning voicein his mind, telling him to lower hisweapons and surrender. DURACLES AND THE SATLAN Based in ancient Greece,this mythologically inspired tale will transport you back into the timesof fictional KingQueleas II and Prince Duracles. By Mihir Agarwal
17 Duracles ignored thevoice. Hecarried hisbow and arrows, along with ashort scimitar and along broadsword. Thetrees themselves seemed to obstruct his cautious approach, as if asking him to leavethis placeand never return. Duracles edged past thetrees, and they parted as if saying, ?Wewarned you?. A swish of ascythein thedistance led him to theSatlan. Duracles looked behind him. Hecouldn?t see the edgeof thetreeswherehe entered! ?Only forwards now,?hethought. Duracles headed towards theswishes of scythes in thedistance, but henever seemed to be getting closer. Suddenly he entered aclearing, but the sunlight was red! ?You are here,?araspy voice whispered. Thecreator of thesound entered thered light. Duraclesglimpsed the Satlan before it faded into shadow again. It looked likeahound, vastly different to the pictures he had seen. Duracles let loosean arrow in its direction, but heheard it thump to the ground. ?I am immuneto your arrows!?it chuckled. Duracles threw hisbow to the ground and freed his arm from his quiver strap. ?Bet you're not immuneto this!?He shouted and flung his short scimitar at thedarkest placein the clearing. He heard an inhuman scream that shattered his ears, but heploughed on. A thick liquid fell from theSatlan. Itsblood was multicoloured... all Duracleswanted to do was touch it. Hewas enamoured by it.... But he somehow controlled his urgeand filled oneof his threepitchers. Hefound his scimitar had disintegrated into pieces! Heunsheathed hisbroadsword. Heknew hehad to makethis swing count. TheSatlan had retreated into thetrees, but Duracles scrambled up the tallest one. Hespied the Satlan below him, and challenged him, calling him acoward. TheSatlan entered theclearing. Duracles jumped from the treeand swung thesword towards the ground ungracefully. The shockwaves created by the impact madetheSatlan fly into abranch, dead. The wholeforest seemed to disappear, and Duracles felt his pitchers become heavier. Back in thepalace, the king congratulated Duraclesand promised him thethrone. Thevillager who proposed thechallengewas discovered to betheman who had killed the son of King Queleas II. Hewas put to death. Unbeknownst to anybody, ascythewas falling from thesky...
18 INSIDE, OUTSIDEME BYTHEODORREINER All you seeisoutside me: My sporty mood, my burning eyes, My cheeky smile. A caring-kind-sort-of-me. But insidethere?s another me: Theempty, bored me. My tired-till-breaktime-sort-of-me. And insidethere?s another me: Full of jokes, cheeky laugher A class-clown-sort-of-me. And insidemethere?s another me: A smaller, scared one A worried, wouldn?t-scare-a-duckling me A scurrying-yes-aunt-sort-of-me And insidemethere?s another me: An angry, Wreck-it-Ralph-sort-of-me. And insidemethere?s another me: An enviousand jealous littleme. Thedark-evil-sort-of-me. And deepest down, Kept all quiet, hiding away, Thereis timid and small little me. Theboy that hides insideof me.
19 A T L A S T Everything waswhite. Snow split and thehooves of the exhausted horses and ice cleft precariously under thesoldier's boots. Thebillowy wind propelled thearmy backwards, punching their chests likea drum. For quitesometime, the British army had suffered famine and wereworn out. They had been wandering for days amidst thefrozen, bitter terrain. The soldiers still managed to keep their spiritshigh. Raven, viciousbirdsas dark as night, plunged and glared over theexhausted men. Thesummit wasenveloped in ashimmering whiteblanket and afluffy haze of mist lingered in the atmosphere. Thearmy had been sent on an expedition to discover along lost territory of anewly extinct speciesof the"Hunter Mankind". Disapprovingly, the men honoured their king's wishes, and embarked on this deadly mission. They were armed with jagged-edged swords and axes, and rodevalliantly on horseback. Theoncemighty horsesbegan to waiver from immensehunger and their skeletal bones pushed through their coats.Thewill to survive kept themen from freezing to death. Theleader of the army haughtily looked ahead, reflecting on the mission, but inside hewas feeling frail. Theleader did not want to let his king down but soon enough, hemight haveto surrender. Ivan, theleader, marched over to asteep hill with hisarmy, and when hegot to the top hesaid, "I think we'regoing to surrender. We'vebeen marching for days. I think it's timeto go back now." Just then, amiraclehappened. In the distance, Ivan could see something, so hetold hisarmy to comeand then they found it . "At last!" hesaid ecstatically. "We've found it!" At that moment, everybody started to cheer, thehorses neighed in delight and that's when themission was complete. By LoucasKatsoulis
20 THE HALL SCHOOL Complete the crossword below by William Edwards Across: 1. A knight needs (7) 4. Notreprofesseur defrançais, Madame(6) 5. An avenuenamed after a famous school (4) 6. Every Roman walked here(3) 9. Society (9) 10. Deity triumph (6) 13. Househues (7) 14. Don?t play with theBunsen burners in here(3) 17. Discover (5) 19. Fivesarenineor ten. Ice, bronzeor iron?(3) 20. It happens in theCooper Hall (5) Down: 1. Sayer?s (5) 2. A room or spaceinsideafront door (3, 4) 3. Not pride(8) 7. Theability to control your actions and feelings (4, 10) 8. Strive(9) 11. Hungry children don?t see this on Mondays (4) 12. Lessonsherearenot taught (5) 15. Tiesomething pink around it (4) 16. Chef Ramsay?s namesake(6) 18. Spring term sport (5)
21 Stray Cat I?m scruffy, I?m wet and I?m even moreupset When I seeanother cat through thewindow. Thecat lookshappy and tame, And has probably always been thesame. He?swarm from afire, I now haveadesire. To claw him in theface; he looks so snug. His fur isnicely brushed, Never being rushed By anyonewho ever combs it. Hemakes mefeel neglected, Hemakes mefeel rejected, Hejust makes mefeel so DEJECTED! Posh Cat I?m bored, I?m lonely and I feel even worse, When I see acat through my window. He?sagileand quick, Hemakes mefeel sick Of being all cooped up in a house. Hegets to hunt for rats, And play with other cats. He?s freeand wild likeus felines should be. Hemakes mefeel suppressed, Hemakes mefeel oppressed, Hejust makes mefeel so DEPRESSED! It?seasy to think that others Havemorethan yourself. But they too arelooking through thewindow, And thinking you havemore than them. By Aarian Gudka STRAYCAT AND POSH CAT
22 Thousandsof animals including seacreatures all over theplanet die needlessly every day and I, as achild, love animals. Humansneed to bemoreawarehow our actionsare endangering our incredibleanimals. We should stop hurting poor helpless mammals. Hereare someexamples: ? 1. Golden Lion Tamarinsare endangered dueto the ever-expanding logging of the rainforestswherethey live. 2. Amur leopardsare on acritically endangered list as only 60-80 areleft dueto poaching, hunting and habitat loss. 3. TheVaquita?s situation isdire. It is estimated that there may beas few as only ten left and maybeby thetimeI am giving this speech it may be nearing extinction. They areunfortunate victimsof thetotoaba (another critically endangered species) swim bladder trade. They get caught in the ?gill nets?which are used by fishermen, a curtain of netting which catches anything and everything including theVaquitas. Thereare many other creatureswhoselives arealso in peril as a result of theway humankind uses the resourcesof this planet. Wecan help by putting pressureon countries wherethere are endangered animals and marine lifeto changetheir habits. Let?snot just assume theseproblemsare only happening in countries far away from here. Even here in Britain, wehave many animalswho are endangered and may disappear completely from our country. I include: Thehedgehog (yes, thosecutelittle hedgehogs-can you believeit!?!?), beavers, water voles, various insects, and theturtle dove(thelatter in declineby 97% since 1970). Do you remember how turtle dovesarecelebrated in theChristmas carol known as?TheTwelve DaysOf Christmas?? Wearelucky in Britain to havean Act of Parliament called theWildlifeand Country-sideAct 1981. My parents are lawyers, so they know about thisboring stuff! TheAct aims to protect our endangered animals, but weshould all do our bit. Remember, wearein a raceagainst time whether in theUK or overseas. For thoseof you particularly interested in hedgehogs, the British Hedgehog Preservation Society and People?sTrust for Endangered Species published their report on the22nd of Feb 2022 outlining the current situation. LET US PROTECT OUR ENDANGERED ANIMALS HOW TO HELP: By BertieDuralski-Cross WHAT ABOUT BRITAIN? POSTSCRIPT
23 SPARKS IN THE SKY Complete the crossword below by Raphael Hussain Across 6. To havefun; enjoy 8. You light these 10. Who was theKing at thetimeof the Gunpowder Plot? Down 1. Largepileof wood that you set alight 2. Who tried to blow up Parliament? 3. Typeof firework that shoots into the sky 4. The11th Month of the Year 5. Firework on astick 7. Datewecelebrate BonfireNight 9. Opposite of day
24 WORD SEARCH Find the wordsbelow,designed by Jasper Penderis creativity paper story imagine pen words ink poem write
25 ALLITERATION POEM Fast foxes fight ferociously, BYGEORGEPITMAN Whilewitty woodpecker'swhack wood. Ravenous ribbon-seals rally ringed-seals However hungry harp-sealshug hooded-seals. Peacocksparadeproudly plus, parrots peck pelicans, Consequently, crocodiles catch carp. Zebras zap zonkeys zealously, Sadly, sharks slaughter sea snakes sassily. Oystersorbit octopuses obediently, Meanwhilemacawsmunch minisculemillipedes. Young yaks yawn yearly, But beaversbelittlebamboozled badgers. Quick quailsquarrel quietly, Understandably umbrellabirdsunbuckleukuleles. Kangaroos kick koalas kindly, Although antsamplify ability. Vultures verify vampire-squids vigorously, Noticeably narwhalsnudgenurse-sharksnotoriously. If iguanas impaleinsects, Then tarantulas terminateticks tremendously. Xeruses x-ray xylophonic xylophones, Except elephantseat emusentirely. Dogsdestroy dingosdarkly, Just as jaguars jab jellyfish. Geckosgobblegerbils greedily, Lastly lobsters loiter lazily.
26 Abruptly, I woke. Had it worked?Was I 200 years into thefuture?It certainly looked likeit. Artificial trees towered over melikegentlegiants, whiletheangry storm of climatechangelooked to have passed. Flowersblossomed; their fiercecoloursdazzled my eyes. Meanwhile, delicious aromaswafted through theair, obfuscating my other senses. Squinting, I could just makeout therushing of diamonds and the slithering ivy clinging furiously to theremaining drops. It was heaven. As I ventured wearily into the city, inhabitants streamed across thestreets, each oneassiduous and focused on thetask ahead. It seemed too good to betrue. In that instant, thetruth of the situation dawned, and horror struck melikealightning bolt? thesewerenot fellow humans roaming my world? they weremachines? Instantaneously, ascoreof thoughtswhirled around my head, an internal war raged. Should I leave, go back and warn my peopleof impending doom?Or should I stay in this land of utter bliss, where animalsambled freely and without fear of being caged or worseand wheretheair was as pristineas ashard of glass?I frantically searched insideof meand suddenly theway forward was irrefutable. Despite lifeherebeing infinitely superior, it was not achoiceI madefor me. I had to do it. I had to go back and savemy race. By Ishaan Patel T I M E W A R S
27 THESNAIL BYAXLFUNK Heworks so hard but doesn?t makeit arace, He likes to go at his very own pace. He carrieshis shell all night and all day, Hewill support itsweight comewhat may. Why does thesnail work so hard? Why does hegivehis lifeno regard? Why must hecarry that heavy spiral? Why not symmetrical, just chiral? Why has hetrapped himself in that shelly jail? Why must God punish this tiny snail? Why thisgruelling task hemust undergo? Thereason we shan?t ever know.
28 Somewherein themiddleof the pacific, therelies an island, resting gently likeagleaming, lustrousdiamond amongst lacklustrepebblesand cobblestones. It nestlesabove a wideexpanseof ultramarine sea, likeavivaciousoasison a desolatedesert. Whereis the island?How is theisland formed?Who lived there?No oneknows. On theedgeof thecoast is an extensivebeach, likemiles of golden grains, embraced by steady pulsesof billowing waves. It isnot thepebbly, alluvial sands that sometimes can scratch your skin in a second, it is thesoftest of all kinds, likethewords of apoem that flows into one?sheart. Beyond thegolden beach isa tropical rainforest, engulfing milesof bareterrains likea viridescent monster. Towering trees flourish along the meandering river, asilver ribbon soaring down from the top of thesnowy mountains. It isnot as bad as you imagined, is it? Hidden behind abush of scarlet rhododendrons, asplendid waterfall tricklesand plummets down. Somewhere deep in the centre, avolcano stands, scarlet, persimmon lava pouring out of thepinnacle, contrasting with thesnowy rocks and crags. At theback of thegigantic volcano isasapphirelagoon, likeatear of theheavens, rippling slightly when thesalty breezevisits the mirror-likesurface. Theisland isagift from the heaven, truly forgotten by the visionsof mortals?eyes. No one hasever set foot on thispieceof land, for the island must have been under amystic spell from awizard. Theisland is likea pieceof memory, likea memory that had been untouched for years and years, almost fading away to nothingness, but it is still there, untouched. By Ben Gu A dreamy descriptive passage that will transport you from the bone-chillingLondon landscape to atropical paradise. THEISLAND
29 SNOOZE BYMAANASSWARUP Thenight before, with confidence at its peak, I said, let memakethemost of thisweek, And wakeup at Six AM sharp, No excuses, just following thealarm ? but, littledid I know, thetiny button that would causesuch harm, As my brain just reached out my arm, and? Snooze.
30 Fear overwhelmed meas I realised that I was being evacuated to the countryside. I had never been outsideof London, and for theonetimeI would leavethecity it wasn?t very comforting to know that my beloved parentswouldn?t bethere to support me; instead, I was stuck with some random strangers, who I would probably have never seen before. That wasn?t even asbad as it gets. Theworst part was that it would befor five years! Thetrain departed, and lifewould never bethesameagain. I stared out of the window, and watched the fumes, smokeand dilapidated buildings rush past my eyes and slowly morph into pristine, emerald green fields that wereajoy to look at. Still, the train chugged past stopping at every station you could think of, first Slough, then Reading, next, Oxford, thelist was endless. I was just waiting to hear Swindon beforeI would be escorted into the unknown. To behonest, I am enjoying being an evacuee. It isn?t the same ashaving my real mum and dad with me, but my foster parents arekind, caring and loving, and I feel that I can temporarily livewith this. They haveone child, who iseleven, so heis slightly older than me. Heis very amiable, and wearegood friends. I enjoy simply looking out of thewindow, as the view is very beautiful and placid. Everyone elsewho lives in the village, Lechlade, embraced my arrival and treated meas agood friend that they have known sincethey were born. Who knowswhen I?ll return. As much as I am loving it here, I hope it?ll besoon, sinceI am missing my parents, and hopethat they?realright? My foster parentsand I werehaving dinner one autumn evening. The leavesoutsidewere dressed in their suitsof red and gold. Tonight, was thenight I thought. Thenight when I would go home. I was looking forward to hearing when I could go back. My mind was filled with excitement. I couldn?t wait to seemy mother, and eat her delicious vanillaspongecake, I was missing my father, and his talesof when he was my age. Our long walks in the park, and my creaky musty bedroom. Thedining room wasquiet except for thecrackling of the fire. Therewasa deafening silence. Tragically, I learn I cannot go home. My father wasunwell from thewar, and now in a nursing home. My mother ailing from all thehard labour of the war. Sadness filled my heart. Fortunately, my foster parents and I had a good relationship, and they offered meto continueto livewith them. It isnot thesame, but it washomefor the last threeyears, and perhapsmore. Thiswas arelief, but also aburden. Thetimehad cometo go and earn aliving. My father had passed away. My mother in anursing home, predicted to die within thenext six months. Thiswould be my first trip back to London. My father had been an avid stamp collector hisentire life; I fondly remember going with him to resaleshops and garagesales, as he searched for unusual stamps. THE LOST LETTER 1942 By Armaan Malde 1943 1945 1948
31 When I left London that morning of 1942, he gavemealargebiscuit tin with his stamps. I had to takecareof them, guard them and keep them safe. My only possession to remember them. Thetimehad cometo open thebox and havethisappraised. Onecrisp morning, I set off to theHigh Street and walked into an old dank shop. Theman had arich voiceand around face framed by black curly hair. Hetold mehis namewasEthan. I told him that I had stamps that I waswilling to sell to him. Heseemed to be very keen on theidea, and scavenged and foraged thetin, for some of therarest stamps. He went through thestamps in awe. In themiddleof my treasuretrove, we stumbled across themost unusual of stamps. An engraved stamp from Austria, on an envelope, addressed to my father? What astrangesight. Unopened. Will Ethan and I beableto open this letter, and uncover the truth behind this unusually engraved stamp? Wecarefully opened the letter and looked at it. All stained. Drained in sepia. Together, we decipher thecode. It was aletter from my estranged aunt, Imogen. My mind discombobulated. I had only heard of her onceor twice. Perhaps, I never paid attention?Aunt Imogen was in Austria. Her husband had fled to the other side(theNazis) or rather wasworking on both sides. Shewanted to go back to York and couldn?t believeher plight with her husband. Shewas leaving that week. I wondered if she was my only family left. Was this letter lost, and now found?All I was consumed with washow I had to find my Aunt. Tearfully, I bid my foster family good - bye. I will always haveaspecial place in my heart for them. I was sad, likea gust of wind that sweeps the clouds. I hopeto come back, but I knew it was the timefor meto look forward, forget about thepast and look after my mother and to start earning aliving. I had sold half my stamps for afair fortuneand Ethan and I went to London. I still kept the engraved Austrian stamp. However, Ethan wasdesperateto get it. In fact, hewas so desperatehecamewith me. Wewent to my pre-war home, theonein London. ThereI met my neighbor instead of my mother. I already knew that shewasnot here, but the sight of seeing someoneelsethereto greet me plunged my heart into apool of sadness. I quizzed her. Mother wasno more. Shehad died. Aunt Imogen had been hereto look for mother. My eyes filled with grief, and with asigh of despair, I slumped on thefloor like apuppet with its strings cut. All hopewas lost, and I didn?t think I could go further. Imogen was in York. I wasgiven the addressof her home. Ethan and I went to Kings CrossStation. All the memoriesof when I wasachild leaving London as an evacuee came flooding back. Before boarding, we both had agrilled cheese sandwich, which oozed likefondueand melted so satisfyingly down my throat. Thetrain chugged along, and thejourney wasquiet. York. A medieval town. Thetaxi screeched outsideof Aunt Imogen?s quaint cottageon aquiet cobbled street. I knocked on the door. Shetook sometimeto answer. Shehad black hair that fanned her face. Her faceshadowed with grief and misery as she remembered the last time we met. Ethan explained the reason wewerethere. Thiswasno coincidence. Thiswasno lost letter. This is the lost letter that found meand my family. Father had left it for me, unopened. Aunt Imogen had sent him another letter, with anondescript stamp. Sheescaped from her husband who turned out to beaNazi and wanted to kill her and her father for being on the other side. I sold theengraved stamp to Ethan. It wasa Nazi stamp, made by Aunt Imogen?s husband. He engraved theNazi stamps, and this wasone of his. Thebest part, it wasworth afortune. 1949
32 It pains meto say this, but Rishi Sunak isnot themessiah. Round six monthsago, thePrime Minister was in a scandal revolving around ChrisPincher, his chief whip. Heduly resigned. Around one month ago, thePrime Minister was in acrisis revolving on her chancellor?s incompetence(which isn?t suprising when you consider hehasa degreein Economic History, not Economics. The degreeis in the recoinagecrisisof 1665-97, acomplaint failure, essentially giving him adegreein failure.) Rishi Sunak hasbeen presented as thevoiceof reason, probably why hekept theworst home secretatry sincethelast one. Hekept the chancellor (to befair, Hunt was agood call) and theforeign secretary. So, with a team as recycled as the plotsof Avengers movies, how on Earth isSunak going to changeanything? This isn?t to say that Sunak isabad choice for PM, but heisn?t a particuarly good one either, despite clearly being thebest the Torieshaveto offer. Boris Johnson may havewanted to return, but heisessentially JuliusCaesar without thepopularity, intelligenceor military victories. Penny Mordaunt is, in essence, aturkey sandwich. General lack of appeal, but if I was faced with the option of it or aSiberian prison camp meal, I would probably opt for thesandwich. But Sunak hasbeen an MP for seven years. He lives in aworld of extrodinary privelige. Whilst someBritons areso unableto live they will die, Rishi has problems such as the £13,000 heating bill for his swimming pool. His risewas based on fiscal and health irresponsibility, most notably Eat Out to Help Out (now replaced by Liz Out to Help Out). On theother hand, Sunak hasmade some good decisions. The aforementioned Jeremy Hunt should keep theOneNation Conservativesoff his back, whilst Braverman, despite lacking Hunt?s basic competencewill unite theparty to adegree. Hehasalso madethe singlemost important decision yet correctly, i.e. Matt Hancock sent to Australiaand no Patel or Dorries. He also has not held a grudgeagainst Nadhim Zahawi, and madehim Chairman of theparty. He(Zahawi) and Gavin William also both hold theposition of minister without a portfolio or, asAlastair Cambell used to call it, minister without ajob. But it?shard to see how hedoesn?t end up likeJohn Major, yet again another politican worthy of my turkey sandwich metaphor. Heispolling at 21% on You Gov. Keir Starmer (Themagnum opusof theturkey sandwich metaphor) is polling at 51%. Tony Blair couldn?t dream of such pollsand he slaughtered John Major in 1997. RISHI SUNAK IS By Conor O'Sullivan
33 Margaret Thatcher would behard pressed to deliver such aresult aswell. In fact, Labour ison coursefor a300 seat majority, smashing a190 year old record from when theWhigs hammered theTories. HunNone but themost diehard of Sunak afficiandos envisagehim as en-routeto rescuethe Conservatives from the ever terrifying Keir Starmer. Thoseof us in reality seeSunak perhaps limiting Labour to astonking 100 seat majority, at least better than Liz Truss, who probably would haveperformed aswell as theCharge of theLight Brigade. Then again, Sunak could win, but hewill only win if hetakes risks. I don?t mean stupid riskshowever, likeSuellaBraverman. On important issues, hehas to swing for the fences, because anything other than a homerun will seethe demiseof theparty. He has to bebold. Hehas to, in apoetic way, emulateBoris. Hewill haveto lay on the charm. Hewill have to win votes from places theTorieshaven?t in decades if ever. He is perhapsbest placed amongst the Conservatives (Other than maybeZahawi, who was in fact born in Iraq) to appeal to ethnic minorities, being thefirst PM sinceBenjamin Disraeli to befrom an ethnic minority (Disraeli was Jewish, but converted in order to becomePrime Minister). If hewants to win, hehas to play his cards right, hope Starmer completely blows it and takealot of gambles. Hehas to attempt to changethe narrative, from what Starmer has manipulated it into being, which is that Labour is responsible on theeconomy and that theConservatives areutterly mad (Which, comparing the last Labour PM and the last Tory oneisnot unaccurate) as that is an impossible place from which to win the election. He must removehimself from Conservatism and play into theplaces hemay capturethat lucrative young vote; pro-immigration and anti-discrimination. Thereisn?t for Jacob Rees-Mogg in a Conservativeparty that wants to win the coming election. There isaplacefor slightly lesspsychotic Tories, likeHunt or Zahawi. To end with aquote from Augustus?If you want arainbow, you haveto deal with the rain.?If Sunak wants to havearainbow Conservativeparty that featurespeoplelike Braverman, he?s going to haveto deal with the rain. And when it rains, it will pour. In conclusion, it?shard to seeSunak winning an election. Heshould probably aim for a hammering rather than amassacre. But then, it isn?t impossible for him to pull it off. After all, many people wouldn?t beable to bring themselves to votefor aturkey sandwich. PM - NOW WHAT?
34 Shouts filled the misty morning, interrupted by piercing whistles. Footstepsand the galloping of horses thundered acrossno man?s land and the sharp fireof machine guns torethrough the air. It was 1916 and thiswas theend of theworld, or so it seemed to Billy. Shoutsand screams of thefallen filled his earsas hegalloped onwards towards the German troops. The defenceshad been well prepared, a tangled mess of barbed wirelay strewn across the field and dead men and horses lay sprawled in its thorny, metal clutches. A searing pain in his shoulder jolted him away from hispainful observations. A bullet had thudded into his shoulder, and hefell to theground, hishorsecontinuing to gallop through the mist, thescreams and shoutsgrowing quieter. Billy snapped his pencil at thethought of thememory, the letter lay, half written on themuddy planks of thetrenches. It had been two years sincehehad last seen his family and hewas feeling desperate. Thedaysand daysof constant shelling and bombardment had taken its toll and Billy had been aggressiverecently. It was near Christmas timeand theletters would beposted in a coupleof days. He picked up hispencil and started writing: Dearest family, I sincerelyhopeyou missme, andI love you. Thetrenches arenot theplacefor a husbandtobe. I hopeyoupull throughandget to seetheever nearer endof thewar. Send mylovetoSplat, our cat. All thebest, Billyxo Thepostman came and went, his sack growing ever bigger and droveoff in his van. All hecould wish for was that his family got theletter and enjoyed it greatly. It was the18th of December 1916 and Beth walked downstairs in their 3-story house in London. The doorbell rang and Splat yelped in fear whileBeth opened it to aman in uniform. Shefeared theworst as shewas handed an envelopestamped with military insignia. Shetore open theenvelopein fright, but her fears werecalmed when sheread out theletter her husband wrote from thefront lines. With tears streaming down her face, she tenderly slid the letter into aframe and put it on the table. Theair raid siren rang out, and Beth heard peoplerunning and screaming out on thestreets. She heard thedistant droneof propellors from aboveand a shrill whistling. The sound lowered in pitch until amassive thump replaced it. Windows shattered, lightswent out, walls cracked, and chandeliersbroke. THE LETTER By Leo Fulton
35 Beth fell to thefloor. Shelooked at the pictureframewhich now had along slender crack along theright corner and got up. The whistling continued and therattling of anti-aircraft guns joined in theruckus. Morethudsand booms sounded across thecity and buildings fell, crushing anyonein their way. Sheheard aloud bang from aboveand amassive flaming hunk of wing, engine, and fuselagecame plummeting out of theevening clouds. With ajolting crash, theplanecameto rest embedded in her neighbour?shouse, burning oil spilling out of thepulverised engineand little plumes of flame spurted and billowed out of theruptured fuel tankson the hole-riddled wing. Beth closed her eyes and wished there would bean end to this suffering. Billy wokeup. It was March 1917, and hehadn?t heard from hiswifein three months. Hesat in his dugout listening to his comrades?shouts of joy, but theletters never came. He clutched Beth?s last letter to hisheart, and then safely pocketed it. Billy then heard a monstrous rumbling from behind him. Theground shook, pebbles jumped, and mud rippled. He heard themassive, mud-caked iron treadsbeforehesaw them. A Herculean metal bulk shuddered and clattered over the trench and sped on into thetreacherous no-man's land. Gunfiresounded in thedistanceand Billy saw flashes, veiled in thefog. That was when theofficer, with hisNCO, marched into our company, chinsheld high. Hesaid, ?Thiswill beafight for glory. Thefieldsof Cambrai beckon us. Thisbattlewill bethe turning point of this great war, should we succeed, weshall bw ableto make thefinal push to theGerman frontier. It is up to us, Britain?sgreat soldiers, to uphold thispush. Our enemy iswell trained, well equipped, and battle-hardened? thiswill not only bea push for victory, but apush for peace and prosperity. We must win? and may God beon our side!? Thewhistlesounded and wecharged up into no-man's land onceagain. This timewe had the cover of our giant steel monsters to help uswith our vanguard. Airplanesdanced in thesky aboveus, looping and cartwheeling around likesomedeadly ballet. A deafening boom sounded and oneof theiron-clad ?tanks?shuddered to ahalt, theengine deck ablaze, dripping with tearsof molten aluminium. Billy closed hiseyes, and thescreams of the burning crew were drowned out by his own troubled thoughts, and he dreamed of a peaceful world. Someyearshad passed, many great warshad occurred, and Billy sank into hisarmchair, his walking stick propped up against thechair. It was 1972, his grandchildren were scampering around their 3-story London house. Oneof them stumbled to Billy, all dusty and dirty waving apicture framewith aletter inside. Theglasshad along crack along theright corner and recognition flashed in Billy?seyes. He hoisted thechild onto his lap and whistled for theothers to gather round. Hesaid, ?Let metell you astory, oneof horror and of hope.? Thechildren laughed but Billy continued. ?T?wasDecember 1916 and asharp whistlesounded in thedirty, bomb-cratered trenches? ?
36 MOONRIVER BYMAANASSWARUP "What is it?" I said, looking up from my book, "Ssh," said my mother, taking acloser look, "What, has it stopped?"; I could hear no sound, "Don't worry,"shesaid, "It'll soon come around." Soon I heard it, from, somewherequite near, "What song is it?" I asked; I couldn't quite figureout thenotes, "Moonriver," shesaid, staring straight down the road, Thetunewasdreamy, yet sometimesquitelow, I watched as theman wandered to and fro, Hands in hispockets, mouth shaped in an "o", Soon heturned acorner, and left, Themelody of his chorus repeating in my head, I stood there, mesmerised, staring in awe, And I kept thinking of Theman who whistled.
37 LIKEWHAT YOU'VE READ? Submit your work to be considered for the Spring Term Edition of TheRight to Write! Ideas: - Stories? - Poetry? - Reviews? - Graphic novels? - News/Interviews? - Crosswords? - And more! To apply, send your work asan attachment to an email to [email protected] by Friday 10 February, 2023. We'relooking for clarity, creativity and originality.
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