Chronicles of Coláiste Chiaráin 2017

Chronicles of
Coláiste Chiaráin
2017

Table of Contents

365 Days by Luca Mooney.......................................................................4
6th Year Prank by Rianna Jackson ........................................................5
A Fresh Start by James Killeen ...............................................................9
A German Story by Eugenia Hanniffy..................................................12
A Letter From Ireland by Shauna Fennelly........................................15
A letter to the principal by Jodie Grange ...........................................16
A Typical Monday Morning by Owen Hoelzle ...................................17
An Artist’s Fantasy by Katerina Healy ................................................21
As Grey As Life by Czac Muli .................................................................23
Changes by Rachel Ibrahim ..................................................................26
Colaiste Chiarain by Emily Ryan ..........................................................27
Get tangled up…...in tinsel by Natalia Jaskowska .............................28
Heroes of the day by Evan Lagan .........................................................31
Inopes by Callum Ledwidge ..................................................................32
Invisible Girl by Mebh Brennan ...........................................................35
Life in Colaiste Chiarain by Jasmine Ducao .......................................36
Life in School by Sophie Baker .............................................................37
Lucy !! by Anna Bradley.........................................................................38
Mr Sweeney’s Secret by Andre Gonzalez............................................40
My School by Ellie Dunne ......................................................................41
My School by Zara Owens......................................................................42

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Pierrot, pierrot by Tadhg Carey...........................................................43
Relief by Lisa Tobin ................................................................................45
School at Night by Shannon Moore......................................................46
School by Oscar Leahy ...........................................................................48
School Runner by Rachael Allen Taylor .............................................49
The Bad Note by Harry Farrell .............................................................51
The Barrier by Christella Kanda..........................................................52
The Beach by Laoise O'Toole................................................................54
The Girl in the Bubble by Niamh Mcarthur .......................................55
The Green Gem by Rachel Adam..........................................................57
The Hike by Michelle Maggrey .............................................................60
The Incident by Ciaran Griffin..............................................................62
The Last Day by Joshua Kilpatrick ......................................................63
The life of Gabriel Williams by Eoin Kennedy ..................................65
The New Boy by Mel Vincent Dela Cruz..............................................66
The Principal's Office by Dervila Nallen ............................................69
The Triangle by Ava Sylvester..............................................................71
The Zombie outbreak by Carl O’Rourke ............................................74
Walls by Eugenia Hanniffy ....................................................................75
Welcome by Leah Ward.........................................................................76
When it Rains by Carlos Muli................................................................79
The Talent Show by Eva Sheridan .......................................................82

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Welcome to The Chronicles of Colaiste Chiarain!
We hope you enjoy perusing the creative work of some of our very
talented student body. Herein, you will find exciting tales of adventure
and mishap, of drama and tragedy, of humour, tomfoolery and of
sadness. You may even find the odd zombie or two! There are
examples of many different genres of writing, including poetry,
functional writing (letters and diaries), descriptive writing and foreign
language entries too. We do hope you enjoy reading the Chronicles, the
common thread being that all have a reference to or are set here in
Colaiste Chiarain.
The Chronicles was conceived as a way of tapping into the incredible
talent that exists in the school and giving some of our extremely gifted
writers and artists an outlet for their creativity.
Congratulations to all those whose creative pieces made it this far. The
standard was very high and we were delighted with the level of
participation from across the student cohort.

This project is due in no small way to the efforts of Ms.Gillian Keher
and to Ms. Catherine McConnon, our Art teacher was also extremely
supportive and helpful in getting this book together.

So please fasten your seatbelt and join us on an some exciting adventures
through the corridors of Colaiste Chiarain.

“..Who is more happy, when, with heart's content,
Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair
Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair
And gentle tale of love and languishment?”

John Keats

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365 Days by Luca Mooney

4/05/2005
It has been a further twenty days since I last wrote. The lead in my
pencil is scarce, it’s almost as if it is mocking me somehow, knowing it
will live longer than I will.
29/03/2005
Dear diary,
Today marks the 183rd day of my absence in the world. I have been
stuck in a small, contaminated classroom in an abandoned school
named Colaiste Chiarain. All exits, doors and windows were implanted
with titanium sheets to further reduce the risk of students being
harmed in the event of a shooting, hence the reason I have been stuck
here for half a year. I live off a shy amount of leftovers in the classroom
bin and an almost non-existent amount of chewing gum scraped off the
bottom of the tables with great effort.
14/04/2005
I have a gut-wrenching feeling I will spend the rest of my sorry, feeble
life in this classroom. It feels as if it was only yesterday I walked into
this room, books gripped in my hands, preparing myself for yet
another English lesson.
30/03/2006
To my family: I have spent a full year in this room, steadily going
insane, I can just about paint an image of mothers face in my corrupted
imagination, it becomes blurred by my pessimistic thoughts
considering my remaining life. If or when this diary is ever found,
please let my mother, father, or whoever out of my family remain,
know that I love them so much.
Goodbye.

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6th Year Prank by Rianna Jackson

We were here. I could feel the tension growing on my neck. ‘’Finally’’
Elijah said between puffs of smoke,dressed in our black hoodies we
set out for our destination. We were standing outside the gates of
Colaiste Chiarain, looking upon the daunting black figure that was our
school. As I climbed the fence the night air made it hard to grasp the
railings but I threw myself over, eventually opening the gate for Elijah
and his mini- van. As we closed the gates again we set out with what
was going to be known as the best sixth year prank ever to be pulled
off.
Elijah slid out his emergency keys to the school from his pristine
pockets. Nobody would suspect the head boy to be the mastermind of
this ingenious crime. We were the modern Bonnie and Clyde. Or so
that’s what I felt. After grabbing the boxes of porcelain dolls from the
van, we made our way towards the front door. He inserted the key
into the keyhole and as the tumblers of the lock sounded Elijah
cracked the door open and gave me the all clear. We were in.

‘’Turn back the other way’’ I found myself saying - mimicking many, if
not all of the teachers in our school, at which he laughed in agreement.
I thought about how strange it was, the concept that teachers have
lives outside of school. Do they go to the shops? Because I never see
them. Do they watch horror films of creepy schools and a bag full of
dolls? No, that’s only people our age. Elijah and I had the same reaction
to horror films- which was to always avoid; so being there at 1am
created a feeling of paranoia. Like lions on their daily hunts we
stealthily made our way to our Year Head’s office. We placed them
down with a thump and began with our prank. We lifted up the lids to
the boxes to find the pristine porcelain dolls, which we knew our year
head hated. We knew it was cruel but we had been planning this since
she was elected to be our year head. Elijah’s master keys really gave us
an unfair advantage but we took our opportunities as they came. ‘’I
thought I would be more excited’’ I choked out as I heaved the boxes
onto the rough texture of our Year Head’s desk. We began unloading

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the dolls into their exact places. All thirteen of them in their flawless
dresses. Using my phone I turned on the flashlight and laid it down on
the desk so we could see what we were doing. After twenty minutes
we had all of the dolls set up perfectly.
I replaced the lids to the boxes as Elijah locked up. We made our way
back to the minivan - giggling away at the thoughts of the next day. The
walk back felt quieter than before. My stomach dropped as I
remembered I had left my phone back in the office. But when Elijah
offered to go get it for me I shrugged him off. This was a case of pride
that I wasn’t willing to give up. ‘’ I’ll meet you back in the van, just start
it up’’. Nodding in agreement he threw me the master keys and I
walked quickly back to our Year Head’s office.

Unlocking the door I was shocked to find the temperature had dropped
dramatically as it was now freezing. It was so cold my breath flew out
before my face clouding my vision. I convinced myself to think nothing
of it and lifted my phone from the rough countertop of the desk and
turned for the door. But my heart dropped, I could feel my entire body
screaming at me to get out of the room. One of the dolls was no longer
there. Without hesitation, my need to get out of there was just as
important as my need to breathe. Clenching my phone in my hand as
hard as I could, I began to sprint out of the office and head towards the
front door of the school. My mind was only focused on the front door I
could see ahead of me. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me
and pulled on the handle but it wouldn't budge. The door wouldn’t
open. I started calling Elijah’s name in panic. ‘’Why did you lock this?’’.
When he eventually looked up from his phone he could see the terror
in my eyes and he raced over to the door. “It won’t open!” I cried out.
With all of his strength he tried to pry the door open but it wasn’t
giving in. “Where are the keys?” he shouted through the thick panes of
glass. As I reached in my pocket to get them I realised that they weren’t
there. Suddenly the emergency lighting system had beamed on and all
I could see was white. It was blinding. My vision was distorted until the
lights faded to a burning orange and I stood there in shock. I could
hear Elijah's pounding fists on the glass slowly becoming weaker and
weaker. Until there was only silence. I faced Elijah once more to find he

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was looking in confusion at the glass. He began calling my name and
then it dawned on me. He couldn’t see me. Suddenly the intercom
crackled and the sound of a child’s soft breathing clouded the entire
school. The school which I was completely alone in. The sweat glided
down my back and my breathing became shorter as only the sound of
our breathing to kept me company. I searched my mind for another
exit of the school. Unable to bring myself back to my year heads office I
ran in the opposite direction towards the staff room. My heavy
footsteps sounded around the corridors in which the echoes bounced
back almost encouraging me to run faster. When I reached the staff
room door it never occurred to me that I would need the key to unlock
it. In my fear I took two steps back from the door when I was suddenly
left in a dark corridor as the emergency lights turned off one by one. I
instantly noticed how heavy my breathing had become as the darkness
had shed light to the realisation that something was near me. The
slight flickering of light around the corner to my left gave me the hope
I needed and I sprinted down the steps and turned towards the light.
The emergency exit.
Throwing my body at the green bar it opened with a click and was
almost as satisfying as the cool air that invaded my lungs. Running
with what strength I had left I made it to the van. Sweat dripped from
my temples and my face felt on fire but it was when I hopped in the
van I really felt my stomach drop.
I screamed at him to start the van but he sat in silence. His face was a
dark shade of black, it used to be covered in bright orange freckles. But
I felt as if I was looking into nothing but a dark void that I once called
my best friend. His eyes had been clawed out- it seemed and his teeth
had been removed. My friend’s mouth formed as it would when saying
my name but nothing came out. And then he whispered ‘help’ before
he began to scream a high pitched cry. I thought my eardrums had bled
slightly and in fear I shoved the door open and bolted from the van.
The gravel flew up from the ground below me. The familiar icy feeling
of the school gates reminded me of what a horrible idea it was to bring
porcelain dolls into our already scary school. As I fell to the ground I
crouched down, where the brick wall would cover me. Trying to
breathe calmly and collect my thoughts I looked to the morning sky. It

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looked as if a child had painted it on a clear canvas. The orange
blended into the yellow and the yellow into the red, so abstract yet
infamously beautiful. Without truly understanding my situation I knew
I needed to help Elijah, but when I turned to see if he were still in the
van, it was nowhere to be seen. Confused, I rang the Gardaí- explaining
my situation that my friend was abducted. The sirens flashed only
moments later and a sense of relief washed over me, they searched the
school and the surrounding area but nothing was to be seen. My heart
raced and I took a step back. Did the dolls take him? Did he turn the
prank on me?
I later found that all thirteen of the dolls had been recorded stolen that
day and that Elijah was also recorded a missing person. A year ago
today I lost my best friend and the Gardaí have lost hope on the case.

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A Fresh Start by James Killeen

He led me around the halls, describing the various rooms and facilities
that we passed. I could hear his voice humming, yet the words just
passed me by. I could have been a thousand miles away. Every few
minutes, I feigned interest with a nod of agreement. His words meant
nothing to me. After completing the ‘grand tour’ of the school, we
returned to his office. He kept talking, probably explaining some
smaller details but again, my mind was elsewhere. He seemed to grow
slightly annoyed as he realised he had none of my attention, his tone
growing sterner. The meeting had come to a conclusion. “Can I go?” I
asked, as soon as he finished. He paused for a second, taken aback by
my abruptness, before letting me go. I grabbed my jacket and made off
down the hall towards the front door, a sight I would have to get used
to seeing.

The weekend seemed to pass by instantly. Before I knew it, the Friday
of the meeting had come to a close and it was now Sunday evening. An
uncomfortable feeling grew in my stomach, one I had not felt in some
time. It brought me back to when my mother arrived with the news
that we would be moving. That same feeling came over me. It seemed
familiar, before I knew it then, I had said my goodbyes and the bags
were loaded into the back of the black taxi that would take us to the
airport. We passed all of the places I remembered from my childhood,
the school, the pitches, the shopping centre. The flight from Heathrow
to Dublin only took an hour but it still felt like it was the other side of
the world. I fell asleep with that same uneasy feeling, but this time it
was caused by looking at that new uniform.

6AM. I was used to early starts, going to the gym before school and
football training early on the weekends. Today was different, I felt
more tired than usual. I took my time in the morning, showering and
getting dressed before heading downstairs. I got breakfast and was out
the door with my new uniform ready for school. My mother wished me
good luck. She had been trying to convince me that this was just ‘the

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start of a new adventure’. I had some trouble with that, I didn’t know
why we had to change. There was nothing wrong with our old
adventure. I left the house into the cold Irish weather. It was quite
bright for this early in the morning, but still freezing. I pulled my hood
up over my head to shield my ears and face from the cold breeze.
There wasn’t many people on the road yet. Our house was close
enough to the school, a 15 minute walk at most. I approached the gates
of the school and an uneasy feeling began to fill me from my stomach. I
felt uncomfortable approaching the main door of the school. It didn’t
feel right, I wasn’t sure if I could get used to it.

I was early. One of the first people in. I was greeted with a few longer
than usual looks. A few nods of greeting. “The new lad”. It was a
strange feeling. I was greeted by another boy when I was at my locker,
he seemed surprised by my accent, straight from London. He
introduced himself as Jack and said if I needed anything he could help.
This took the edge away as he made an effort to introduce me around
at every chance. The day went by fast, the first four classes blended
together before break. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach began
to fall away as the day went on. The strange looks were outnumbered
by the friendly nods and hellos which made me feel at ease. You could
tell who wanted to greet you and who felt compelled to force a
conversation with the new guy from England. Nobody knew me here, a
refreshing feeling. Different from England as I was known as the local
footballing talent, scouted by all the big clubs. I was just the same as
everyone else here.

I was always okay in school, I never struggled but I never really pushed
myself to do my best. The focus was always football. I was somewhat
surprised when I arrived and they put me in all of the higher level
classes. Maybe my mother was trying to convince me to put my focus
into school and try to go to college. It was the first day of the year so
the teachers were determined to remind us of all the hard work that
was ahead of us and how important this year would be. This was
somewhat comforting as it reminded me of my old school. It seemed
teachers were the same everywhere.

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The day came to a close at 3.40. The classes had gone by quickly, not
much work and a lot of introducing myself to teachers and classmates.
I had gotten to know a few people throughout the classes and lunches.
I finished tidying up my locker and got my jacket and was ready to
leave. The principal, who I thought didn’t really take to me after the
first meeting, called me as I passed his office. He beckoned me in and
asked me how the day went. I explained that everyone was very
welcoming and that I was settling in already. One of those were true.
He brought me out to the noticeboard and talked about the sports
available in the school. My eyes were drawn to the poster with a big
football in the corner. The list was full. I thought I should sign
something to get involved around the school. I put my name down and
walked out the door and towards my new home. They wouldn’t know
who I was, no pressure put on me yet. I could have a fresh start here.
No preconceptions, beginning again from nothing. My ‘new adventure’
in the words of my mother.

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A German Story by Eugenia Hanniffy

Cathy konnte nicht schlafen. Sie lag die ganze Nacht wach und las den
Brief ihres besten Freundes, Marc. Ihrer toter bester Freund. Aber, war
er tot? Oder, war es ein Witz? Sicherlich, war es… Wer sagt “Ich bin
nicht tot” oder “bis bald, in diesem Leben”? Das Datum auf dem Brief
war fünf Tage nach dem Unfall. Es muss ein grausamer Witz gewesen
sein! Wobei, der Brief war unterzeichnet, und kam mit einer Postkarte
aus Toronto, wo das Flugzeug abgestürzt war. Cathy hatte auch
niemanden in Kanada…

Sie konnte nicht in der Schule oder zu Hause darüber reden. Es war
zu schwierig. Die Menschen hatten eine andere Auffassung über Marcs
Verschwinden - er zog in eine andere Schule, ohne sich zu
verabschieden. Sie wünschte es wäre wahr. Sie hatte sich nicht so
inhaltslos gefühlt. Die Schließfächer und Plakate würden nicht
andersartig erscheinen. Die Mehrheit der Schülern würden nicht
größer erscheinen. Sie würde nicht das Gefühl haben, dass sie erstickte.
In der Mittagspause saß Cathy mit ihrer Freundin Marie, die eine
Broschüre in der Hand hielt. Cathy erkannte die Bebilderung. Es war
eine Broschüre für die Kunstausstellung von Art Deco und Moderner
Kunst.

“Die Schule stimmte zu, Walters Kunstausstellung zu veranstalten. Das
ist toll, oder?” sagte Marie.

“Ja, natürlich…” lächelte Cathy. Sie freute sich für Walter und seinen
Erfolge, aber sie hatte keine Lust zu feiern. “Es ist fantastisch!” sagte
sie.

Die Ausstellung würde am nächsten Freitag stattfinden. Es gäbe
Gemälde und Fotos in der Bibliothek, in der großen Halle und auf der
Bühne. Genauso dabei wären Kunstkritiker, Fotografen,
Kunsthochschüler oder Lehrer, und Gäste aus der Modebranche. Es
war unheimlich wichtig für die Schüler, die sich engagieren wollten.

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Die Schule war bafand sich in kreativem Chaos. Die Künstler waren mit
Farbe oder Holzkohle bedeckt. Die Fotografen hatten Photoshoots
gemacht. Man sprach nur über Portfolios. Cathy nahm auch daran teil,
indem sie modische Entwürfe machte. Aber es war nur eine Ablenkung
vom Marc und seinem Brief.
Je näher die Kunstausstellung rückte, desto weniger dachte sie an ihn.
Sie war zu beschäftigt, um darüber nachzudenken. Am Freitag war ihr
Portfolio fertig und sie freute sich auf die Ausstellung. Sie hatte ein
Kleid ausgesucht. Sie fühlte sich prima! Was könnte schiefgehen? Die
Ausstellung war selbst ein Erfolg! Die Kunstkritiker hatten Walters
Gemälde gern. Die Schüler hatten die Leute aus der Modebranche
kennengelernt. Die Häppchen waren auch lecker.
Es war erst nach einer Stunde, als Cathy sich unbehaglich fühlte. Etwas
war los. Körperlich fühlte sie sich in Ordnung, aber ihr Instinkt störte
sie. War es Gefahr? Unsicherheit? Oder, war sie verrückt und hörte
ständig auf zu atmen. Jeder um sie herum war entspannt und froh.
Aber das fröhliche Gefühl wurde durch das Zerbrechen der Fenster
unterbrochen. Die Schule war plötzlich in Dunkelheit gehüllt. Cathy
hörte Schreien und schnappte nach Luft. Sie konnte nichts sehen oder
Marie und Walter finden. Sie rief ihre Namen. Mit jeder Minute wurde
sie schwächer. Sie verlor fast das Bewusstsein, als die aus dem giftigen
Rauch herausgezogen wurde.
Anfänglich hustete Cathy. Sie atmete tief ein. Dann sah sie die Person
an, die sie gerettet hatte.

“Wer sind Sie?” fragte Cathy.

“Ich bin hier, weil Marc mir befohlen hatte, dich zu beschützen,”
antwortete der Junge.

“Marc… ist tot… oder?”

“Nein. Er lebt noch.”

“Ich glaube dir nicht. Marc war vor einem Monat in einem Unfall!”

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“Das glaubst du,” lächelte der Junge. Er nahm ein rosa Band aus der
Tasche und gab es ihr. “Letzten Abend gab er mir das, um es dir
weiterzugeben.”
“Unglaublich,” flüsterte Cathy. Sie gab dieses Band Marc, als sie zehn
Jahre alt war. Es war ihr Lieblingsband. Sie dachte es war weg…
“Catherine…” flüsterte der Junge.
“Ja,” antwortete sie, ihre Augen verließen das Band nie.
“Du bist in Gefahr…”

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A Letter From Ireland by Shauna Fennelly

21 Beechgrove Heights
Leixlip

Co. Kildare
21/3/17

To Olivia

Hi, its me, Zoey. I arrived in Ireland today. I started a new school called
Colaiste Chiarain. I picked the subjects Music and Business. I got my
locker and my timetable. It is very different from my old school back in
England. I am going back to England in the summer. When I got here I

was put into a class. My uniform is a long skirt and a green jumper. It is
the opposite for my old one that was blue and grey. I made some
friends here.My Music teacher is nice and Music is my favourite subject
now. I am learning German. I am not good at it yet but I hope to get
better at it because I enjoy it.

My house is a detached house. It is in estate near my new school. My
house is a two storey. My sister and I share a room. My back garden is
small. We planted lots of flowers and plants since it's spring. We
planted lots of sunflowers because they are our favourite.
I hope I can talk to you soon,
from Zoey

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A letter to the principal by Jodie Grange

2 Grangehill
Avenue
Leixlip

Co.Kildare

2/6/17

To Mr Sweeney,

I would like to start off by saying a big Thank You! I have a had a great
first year because I have been made feel comfortable by everyone
including older students.

At the beginning of the year I was worried sick that I wasn’t going to be
in any classes with my primary school friends, which did happen. I did
have my best friend from primary school in my class though, but it was
different without all my friends from primary school. As the year went
on I mixed with other people in my class (1A2) and people in other
classes and soon became good friends with a lot of people I have never
met before.
All of the teachers in Colaiste Chiarain are so nice and helpful. Some
teachers I don't get on too well with but that's life I suppose. Teachers
have encouraged me so much to do well in my exams and because of
that I have done so much better than I intended on. I picked Home
Economics and Business for my choice subjects and I thought it would
be very different doing these subjects but it felt like I had been doing
them forever, and I am so intrigued by all of them.

I have had a brilliant first year in Colaiste Chiarain and I’m sure there's
so many more to come….

Regards,
Jodie Grange

16

A Typical Monday Morning by Owen Hoelzle

I woke up to the sound of a million angry hornets right beside my head.
I groaned, rolled over and turned my alarm off. My body ached, I could
taste blood in my mouth and I had a strong feeling of dread in my
stomach; in other words a typical Monday morning. I looked around
my workshop, it was a state, then again when wasn’t it. “I need to stop
sleeping here” I told myself as I dragged myself out of the pile of
blankets that I had slept on. There was an unusual, burning smell in
the air. “What was I doing last night?” I asked no one in particular. As I
reached the door I saw it, a book. I carefully picked it up, it’s well worn
red leather cover was hanging on by only a few threads, its handful of
pages barely legible.

The tattered and shredded pages were full of strange diagrams and
doodles, and instructions of some sort. I heard my Mother shout for me
so I uncovered my schoolbag from a pile of debris and stuffed the book
inside. I brushed myself down and headed towards the kitchen.

I couldn’t keep my mind off that book all day. Where did it come from
and how did it get into my workshop? More importantly, what was
inside? I spent that morning with the remains of the book in my hands,
attempting to decode the numerous diagrams and scrawled notes.
They appeared to be blueprints of some sort. I hadn't a clue, but I knew
who would.
As I was leaving the social area I heard a familiar voice. “Today's the
day, isn’t it?”. “Hmm?” I mumbled, barely taking my eyes from the book.
I glanced up at the source of the voice, the flawless smile meeting my
gaze. It was Steven, hair perfect and uniform pristine, as always. What
on earth was he talking about? “You’re very funny Sean did I ever tell
you that?” came the reply. He seemed annoyed. “Yea, sure, probably,

17

I’ll be back in a minute” I muttered as I headed towards the science
labs.

I walked straight into the musty, cluttered lab, I knew he’d be in there.
“Marty?” I called. Seconds later I saw the familiar, wild haired
silhouette in the storeroom, through a cloud of strange colour smoke.
“Ahh Sean, what’s on today's agenda?” I heard the raspy response. I
threw the book towards the doorway. His surprisingly nimble hands
easily caught the book. “I found this, any idea what it is?” I spluttered
through the smoke. He flicked through the pages, briefly scanning
each one. “Looks like you have yourself some blueprints Sean, where
did you get this?” “It kind of just, appeared, I guess? Blueprints for
what?” “Now that, I’m not too sure, it's a tad hard to understa-” He was
cut off mid sentence by a shattering of glass and sizzling noise. I saw
the cloud of gas change colour. “SEAN GET DOWN”; I had never left a
room as fast in my life. I heard the muffled bang through the door.
Students continued walking past. It was just another typical Monday.

I decided the only thing I could do was to try build whatever it was the
book contained. At lunch I headed to the charity shop near the
entrance of the school, to find a something to rewrite the contents of
this strange book into. Before I could make it to the door of the shop,
that familiar, high pitched voice arrived at my ear again. “So, have you
asked her yet?” he queried. Yet again I hadn’t a clue what he was on
about. I ignored his question. “Come on Sean you have to tell me what
she said”, he was starting to get on my nerves, I had more important
things to be doing than being interviewed. “Listen Steven, I haven’t a
clue what you’re on about, I’m busy, leave me alone”, I headed into the
shop. His flawless smile vanished. “Ah here, don’t tell me you’ve
forgotten” he called after me. What was he talking about?

Inside the cluttered, dark shop I begin my search. I got a strange
feeling that I shouldn’t draw these diagrams and instructions into a
notepad, like I usually would. For some strange reason, I was drawn
towards an old looking blue journal, similar enough to the book itself,
wedged between two ancient video tapes. It finally comes loose, along

18

with one of the tapes. I picked it up; Back To The Future. Over my
shoulder I heard the aged, droning voice of the shopkeeper, “That's a
great movie that is”. “Yeah its brilliant” I replied, surprised she could
see what the tape was, I had always thought she was half blind. I can't
stand that film.

The old woman was nice enough to give me the journal for free, as long
as I took the tape with me too. I was tempted to throw it in the bin
outside the shop but I decided against it, maybe it was worth
something.

Eventually school crawled to a close. I had begun getting sick of
teachers giving out to me to focus in class; the old journal was proving
to be a bigger distraction than I had anticipated. I was obsessed by its
contents. By the time I had reached home I had almost completed
rewriting it into the new journal. It was now just a matter of time to
get to work. I didn’t walk in the front door; I hopped over the gate and
headed straight into my workshop.

I was glad I had gone shopping over the weekend, I appeared to have
all the parts I needed. After an hour or two I could roughly make out
what it was I was building. It appeared to be some type of metal box,
rectangular and just about big enough for a large child, or my slender
frame, to fit into. There was also a mess of circuitry and dials that had
to go somewhere. I had reached the end of what the old red journal
contained, so I decided to just push my luck and see what would fit
together. I wasn’t going to abandon the project at this stage.

About an hour later, and a break for food, I had almost figured it out.
It’s funny, I thought it looked somewhat familiar. My phone had kept
buzzing, so I had flung it onto the pile of blankets that I had slept on
the previous night. I didn't have the headspace to deal with whatever it
was I'm sure Steven was texting me about. “Would he ever leave me
alone”, I thought. Just as I was trying to fit the last piece into place,
using the Back To The Future tape to prop up the circuitry. It was just
too short to work, so I grabbed my phone and wedged it in. Perfect.

19

I plugged the contraption into the one empty socket in the wall.
Nothing happened. “Maybe the wires are wrong”, I told myself, praying
I hadn’t broken anything in the building process. Just as I go to pull all
the cables out, my phone goes crazy. “REMINDER: TALK TO AOIFE.”
Before I had time to react, a flash of pure white light knocks me off of
my feet.
I woke up to the sound of a million angry hornets right beside my head.
I groaned, rolled over and turned my alarm off. My body ached, I could
taste blood in my mouth and I had a strong feeling of dread in my
stomach; in other words a typical Monday morning. I looked around
my workshop, it was a state, then again when wasn’t it. “I need to stop
sleeping here” I told myself as I dragged myself out of the pile of
blankets that I had slept on. There was an unusual, burning smell in
the air. “What was I doing last night?” I asked no one in particular. As I
reached the door I saw it, a book. I carefully picked it up, it’s well worn
blue leather cover was hanging on by only a few threads, its handful of
pages barely legible.

20

An Artist’s Fantasy by Katerina Healy

Up on my stool I sit,
My very precious throne,
I take hold of my pencil,
And a figure starts to form.

Many a piece I have created,
But no two are the same,
Each work is different,

I experiment with my hands.

I am the creator,
I am in charge,
My pencil twirling, dancing
But I lead the way.

I am in my fantasy,
My lovely little world,
Enclosed within my imagination,
That is my only boundary.

The paints burst into colour,
Each and every colour stuns me,

Life crawls through the page,
Gasping for the air .

The paintings and sculptures awaken,
They all chant and cheer,
“More, more” they say,
I decide to obey.

A screech stops me in my tracks,
All the colours slip away,

I am shoved brutally into reality,

21

The time has come for me to go to English class.
22

As Grey As Life by Czac Muli

What is the purpose of life?
A question that has mind-boggled us and our ancestors

For centuries now.
My answer…

Enjoy it, stop thinking and make the best out of what you have of life.
But people make it impossible to enjoy.
***

Sleeping is basically a time machine to breakfast.
Until you realise what lies ahead of the day.
School.

Our parents tell us that it is important that we get our education and
stuff for life… But I just wish that school wasn’t so
What’s the word?
Oh, right. Prison.

Think about it; we all dress the same, dedicated times to both eat and
socialise, asked to pee in a bathroom that is a direct violation to health
and safety, locked in rooms until it’s time to go, shoved in the hallways.

If you think about it, the rules aren’t so far off either.

Ah look it’s my usual morning.
Rushing to change, brushing my teeth and somehow eating…

All at the same time.

After yelling bye I rush outside feeling the icy grip entangle me. As I
walk into the school, the snow from my shoes melt.

Colaiste Chiarain is the name of my school… I doubt you care though.
As I enter I’m welcomed by a clawing glare from one of my teachers.
Whoops, forgot to hand in my paper. Three days still counting. Hmm…

I should most likely get started. Well whatever.
I shuffle towards the “social area” and get the 100 pound books for the

first periods.
***
23

I’m greeted by the one few decent people left in the school. Matt.
“You know, you should seriously get started on those projects”
“I know, I know” I sigh. The classes continue on with me annoying Matt.

NOO. I totally forgot she was in this class.
I don’t know what I did. Is it me or is she just natural.

Then again...Hell is empty.
Because all the Devils are here.
Aimee is the human embodiment of Satan.

“Hey buddy” she says with an overly playful pat on the back.
I just get up while glaring daggers at her.
***

I look in front of me to see puke. Oh wait… nevermind it’s just the
school lunch. You know I bet food in prison is like heaven compared to

this.
I am force fed by Matt. “You need your veggies” he pants while I

viciously slap it away.
***

I HATE my last classes. Maths, History and Science. Besides I have all
those classes with Aimee.
Yay, “fun”.

I then awkwardly sit by myself.
Getting a wet sensation at the back of my head once or twice. Really…
spitballs? I just hold back the feeling beginning to form at my eyes. I try

to pay attention… something that I rarely do.
I can’t deal with this…
***

I arrive home. Throw leftovers in the microwave, then binge watch for
most of the day.

Life is so... repetitive.
I head to the bathroom.

I look at the mirror.

24

Eyes blue as the sea, skin as pale as snow and hair as dark as the night.
But… all I see is a wasted life.
I jump in the shower.
Scars.
Reach up to my wrists.

Water runs down my skin but also tears.
I feel refreshed afterwards.
I literally owe Matt my life.

I’m just afraid I can’t keep my...our promise.

25

Changes by Rachel Ibrahim

The last day of school
It was really sad
A lot of tears

Memories from all the years
We looked at each other
Like one big family
My friends like family
Tears, smiles and giggles
Looking at moving smiles

To get where we are was a long journey
The phones that rung
The bells that went off
The songs we sang

The jokes we cracked and tears we shed
School is out

Summer is here
Before I know school will be near
New faces new teachers new school

New year new me
So many changes
How wonderful it will be

26

Colaiste Chiarain by Emily Ryan

I love Colaiste Chiarain,
The sun beams through the windows.
The school wakes in the dawn,
But if only the chairs had pillows,
I’d love Colaiste Chiarain even more.
The teachers are very kind.
There is only one floor but, plenty of room for activities such as Bake
Sales and more.

27

Get tangled up…...in tinsel by Natalia Jaskowska

Christmas at Colaiste Chiarain. The non uniform day and the endless
Christmas activities are one of the great things about it. But in my
opinion decorating the school's Christmas tree is by far my favourite.
This year my Art teacher Ms McConnon picked a few students from our
class to help decorate it. Luckily I got picked, along with my friends
Callum, Colm and Stephanie.

I’ve been friends with them for the last three years. I’ve been walking
home with the two lovable idiots, Callum and Colm, since First Year.
Stephanie and I became friends over our mutual weirdness and love
for animation. I also have other friends. These include Brian, Valera,
Aisling, Lucy, Katelynn and Eden. I’m not really sure how we all ended
up being friends but I’m glad we did.

”No, no, no that’s red and it’s too close to the other red piece, you need
to move it” I said as Callum pulled away the red bobble. His eyebrows
scrunched as he looked at me. “Natalia…..half of the ornaments are
red”. I stared at him blankly. “Well it’s TOO CLOSE, move it to the left” I
said. He rolled his brown eyes before doing as he was told. “Actually it
looked better on the right” I nodded my head, my long dark blonde
hair bouncing up with the movement. Callum gave me a look before
sighing and moving the bobble again. “You know maybe it should be at
the bottom, we are lacking red down there” I pondered.

Callum threw his hands up in the air “Make up your mind woman!” he
yelled. I paused for a few seconds burning my amber brown eyes into
the fake Christmas tree. “The middle, yes, it will look good in the
middle” I smiled satisfied. “Or maybe the top….” I mumbled. Callum
threw his hands up before descending down the ladder. “That’s it, I’m
done” he said as he threw the bobble at me and went back to Art class.

Colm burst out laughing as he left. “Good job Nat” he chuckled. “I didn't
mean to make him leave” I pouted as I climbed up the ladder. “Well

28

congratulations on managing to.” The small boy laughed as he
continued to put up every dog decoration he could find. While
Stephanie was sitting on the floor admiring all the new Disney
decorations the school got this year. “They got a MICKEY MOUSE
bobble!” she exclaimed as she held it up for us to see, her blue eyes
shining in excitement. We rolled our eyes but smiled in amusement.

“Can I please use the ladder to put it up?” she asked. Colm and I
simultaneously shouted “No!” Stephanie looked slightly shocked
and confused. “Stephanie…..knowing you, you’ll trip and fall off the
ladder” I said. “Oh yeah….can you put it up for me then?” she said
excitedly. I took the bobble from her and placed it on the tree.

Suddenly a hyper ball of ginger joined us. That hyper ball of ginger was
none other than my best friend Katelynn. “Katelynn? What are you
doing here?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be in Business?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes….but I may have gotten a note from Mr Coplen to excuse me from
class to set up the library for our Christmas event later on” Katelynn
grinned. “Should’ve guessed, want to help us decorate the tree?” I
asked. “If I can put up the star and the tinsel” she said.

Soon enough we were done decorating but there was just one problem,
Katelynn somehow managed to get tangled up in the tinsel. “Katelynn,
I swear, how do you manage to do this?” I said as I tried to unhook
another loop in the bright red tinsel. “I don't know” she laughed as she
rolled around on the floor. “Stop moving!” Colm yelled as he tried to
untangle another knot. This however made Katelynn laugh even more
as she rolled on her stomach and started to crawl on the floor like a
caterpillar. “Look! I’m a caterpillar!” she exclaimed. I couldn’t hold it in
anymore as I started laughing.

At this very moment Mr Coplen decided to come along to check on us.
He stopped in his tracks as he saw Katelynn. “Is she okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, she just got tangled up in some tinsel” I said. Katelynn stopped
what she was doing and did her best to look natural, which didn’t

29

really work. “Hi Sir!” she exclaimed as she burst into another fit of
giggles.
Mr Coplen nodded as he looked about ready to flee this very….weird
scene. “I’ll go find some scissors” he said as he backed away. We
manage to untangle Katelynn successfully and Callum forgave me later
on in the day, after I bought him a Christmas cookie of course, from the
bake sale which was organized by the TY students to donate to St.
Vincent De Paul. Let's just say we never let Katelynn near tinsel ever
again.

30

Heroes of the day by Evan Lagan

Hello, this is Evan Lagan here reporting the latest news for you. The
top story today is about two school principals Mr. Cash and Mr.
Sweeney being awarded a medal from the President for their heroic
efforts in saving their school, Colaiste Chiarain, from being held
hostage by an unknown terrorist organisation who now are in the
hands of the Gardai.
The attack occurred at 10:48am on Tuesday. The terrorists carried out
the attack by sending masked gunmen into every class to hold the
students hostage. The reason for this attack is as yet unknown.
We have video footage from the CCTV showcasing the two men in
action. As we can see they are wearing the sleeves of their shirts rolled
up, ties around their heads and two black stripes under their eyes.
Mr.Cash is holding an old rusty pipe and Mr.Sweeney has a meter stick
in his hands. We can see them both running through the corridors at
superhuman speeds jumping over the gunmen and knocking them out
as they go. One by one they lead each class out of the school and rush
back in immediately to save the rest.
Somehow these two amazing men managed to rescue their school
from terrorists and came back out alive.
Mr.Cash and Mr.Sweeney truly deserve their medal that they are
receiving today.
This was Evan Lagan with our top stories. Goodbye.

31

Inopes by Callum Ledwidge

I...I can hear you! I...I can see you! And I'm going to paint these walls
with whatever I can squeeze out of you, my sweet little child!

I'm scared. I'm really, really scared and I'm not able to do
anything about it! Why can't I move? He's going to find me, he's going
to catch me. The lunatic’s going to kill me. He'll kill me just like the rest
of them! Oh Jesus Christ why can't I move?!!

You know, English had alway been one of my favourite classes. I mean,
there was nothing particularly exciting about it but when comparing it
to the rest of the forty minute sessions where I slowly but surely lost
the will to live, it wasn’t the worst. Work’s tough, but it's a distraction
so I couldn't complain. My friends were all in a different class. The
point is, I enjoyed English. Typical for it to be in an English period that
Colaiste Chiarain went from being an underfunded secondary school
with hygiene issues to an underfunded mass grave of hellish atrocities
with hygiene issues.
We'd been asked to write a story on whatever took our particular
fancy. Our English teacher was clearly not bothered to teach that day
and so she'd pulled that classic ace in the hole. Some lads at the back
were taking the mickey and puffing E-cigarettes under their desks with
all the grace and subtlety of the cafeteria footage of the Columbine
massacre. You'd think someone would at least open a window but no,
you'd be wrong and you'd be stupid for thinking that. And it was about
here that things took a very dark turn for the worse. At first I thought it
was some kind of nicotine related hallucination but after pinching
myself and looking like a twat in the process I realised that the
classroom’s intercom was indeed on. It was spouting an assortment of
weird whispers that were definitely not English, Irish or any kind of
language I would've recognised. I looked around and sure enough
everyone was looking as hecking bamboozled as I was. After about a
solid ten minutes of this generally confusing preaching the speaker
buzzed and Principal Sweeney cleared his throat. It was a relief to hear

32

his grizzled voice for a change. Of course what he said next quickly
drained that feeling from my system.
“Could I ask the students and faculty alike to please put down the pens
and listen carefully to these next few important announcements.”
Were it to be guessed, these “important” announcements would likely
be a reminder of the school rules and to make sure that those who
wished to have the audacity to wear black coats instead of navy would
be punished accordingly. Of course, these announcements would be
comparable to that of a eulogy given by a mute. You'd get nothing out
of it even if you were to listen. However it seemed that there was
something other than the laws of the land on the good principal's mind.
Some may not have noticed it, but if you listened closely you could
hear his voice trembling. Mr Sweeney didn't tremble. Anyone who'd
been with the school long enough knew that you had a better chance of
seeing a unicorn then hear the man quiver in his boots. And yet there
he was, voice cracking and breaking more than the polar ice caps.
“I would ask that teachers please escort students to the nearest…”
BANG!
The noise echoed around the classroom with tremendous force,
blowing the speaker like a firecracker. BANG! Another shot, this time
coming not from the speaker but from down the hall. BANG BANG
BANG! Nobody moved. Most had never heard that sound in person but
we all knew what it was. Ms Keher piped up to break the silence.
“Ok everyone.” You could hear the panic from behind her forced smile.
“Can you please stand up and leave the classroom in a calm and
orderly fashion.” which everyone knows is codeword for “We are all
going to die, leg it for your pathetic lives.” I think the door was actually
kicked down in the ensuing stampede, with everyone gunning it down
the hallway towards the door. I did what any normal person would do
and just followed the crowd, keeping as close to the wall as possible.
Any gunman would've had a lot of meatshields to go through if they
were going to hit me. We all ran right past the side door which I
suppose was out of panic. Reaching the front entrance we found it to
be chained shut. Not locked. Chained. We stopped what we were doing
as the realisation set in. We were all going to die. And this
school/shooting range was to be our deathbed.

33

So a couple of hours have passed. He found most of the eejits who hid
with their groups of friends in the toilets almost instantly. Janitors
won't be getting that stain out of the carpet for a while, haha. So here I
am, hiding under a pile of beanbags in the school library, recounting
today's little event in a desperate attempt to stop the panic setting in.
He talks to himself you know. Quite the, haha, quite the wackadoodle.
Keeps saying he can hear me and that he can see me and all that . I
watched a guy who was under the tables of the main hall for a bit.
When he was found, the poor kid, he was too scared to even run. I
think I'm the only one left. If I can hold out till help arrives that'd be
nice but who am I kidding? I'm going to die. Hahahahaha. I'm going to
die.

34

Invisible Girl by Mebh Brennan

My name is Samantha Kennedy and I’m the girl that
has been missing for about a year at this point. Want to know what
really happened to me? Then read on…..

Sure I’ll admit maybe I wasn’t the most
popular girl. When I was walking around school I was basically
invisible. But as soon as I was gone people started to care.
So here’s what happened, how I became trapped. It all started on a
Monday morning when I walked into the science class. We were
conducting an experiment. I can’t remember what experiment but it
involved me combining two chemicals. That was when something went
horribly wrong. I remember a big black cloud rising from the cylinder.
I heard screams from my terrified classmates. My teacher sprinted to
the top of the classroom and smacked a red button, it was the button to
set of the alarm. I remember the ringing, it was so loud my ears almost
started to bleed. By this time the black cloud had engulfed the entire
classroom. The cloud smelled putrid, like burned rotten eggs. All of my
classmates cleared the room within seconds of that alarm going off, in
fact the whole school had evacuated. But not me, I was in shock, my
whole body was paralyzed, I couldn’t move. It didn’t take long until the
cloud has vapourised me.
To this day I’ve never been able to reverse this. All I am is that smell of
chemicals you can smell when you first walk into those science rooms.
I suppose it’s no different from when I was alive, I was invisible then
and I’m invisible now.

35

Life in Colaiste Chiarain by Jasmine Ducao

Every second feels like an hour
Forced to be here yet I have no power
Tests and exams are the death of me
I have to study endlessly
Bags are boulders on my back
I feel as if my spine will crack
Our reputation is on a held thread
One mistake answer your rumour is spread
I go to the toilets just to take a breath
Learning Irish is fate worse than death
Talk back to the teachers and punishments we serve
No doubt, sometimes it's what we deserve
Hangout with your so called friends,
but they will stab you in the end
The teachers are mean, they think we're dirt
When the bullies beat you up, it really hurts
I don't like school, it's not for me
I can't wait till they set me free

36

Life in School by Sophie Baker

Monday to Friday,
We go to school,
We’re in secondary now,
Not in playschool.

School can give us an education,
Things like creative writing to express our imagination.

It's not always easy,
But it's always fun,
But with our teachers help we get it done.

Exciting experiments in Science,
Baking in Home Ec and using a kitchen appliance.

Learning French ‘Bonjour Madame’’
Keeping up the grades,
I got to study for an exam.

History is my favourite,
Learning about the past,
Next up is Geography to find out Italy’s weather forecast.

Playing basketball after school
With the team,
Gotta keep trying to achieve
My dream.
Lots of friends,
Old and new,
Standing side by side,
There is nothing we can’t do.

37

Lucy !! by Anna Bradley

It was a dark and cold night in the orphanage…

Lucy and Abbie were best friends, it all began when their Mom and
Dad were both killed when they were younger and they were put in
the same orphanage. They hated it there and always tried to escape
and finally at the age of sixteen they managed to slip out the door
when everyone was fast asleep.

Abbie and Lucy ran as fast as they could. It was two o’clock in the
morning and they could hear the crickets sing. They stopped as they
came towards what looked like an old abandoned school. They read an
old sign saying “Colaiste Chiarain”. They jumped over the gate and
managed to get into the school. They looked around and decided to
stay there until one day when they could find another nicer home.

It was getting more dark and cold. They needed some light but neither
was brave enough to fetch the lamps at the other side of the school.
After a fifteen minute discussion Abbie went and got the lamps.
Suddenly Lucy heard a scream!!.

Lucy walked towards the door where Abbie was last seen
entering. She opened the door slowly and peeped her head inside. The
lamp Abbie was supposed to get was on the floor, broken with the light
flickering on and off. Lucy felt a shiver going down her back. As she
turned around she noticed it was getting very foggy in the school and
she could hardly see anything. She looked around constantly calling
Abbie's name. Then she saw something , it was a person standing in
the distance.

She couldn't see if it was Abbie because of the fog all she could see was
the shape of the person. Lucy walked slowly towards the person
calling “ Abbie? Is that you?” When she got closer she realized it wasn't
Abbie, it was a man. He was wearing a white mask and in his right

38

hand he was holding a knife. Then she saw Abbie beside the man, her
body stretched across the floor, blood oozing out of her and spilling
slowly on the ground.
Lucy screamed and ran in the opposite direction. She went straight to
the front doors but someone had jammed the door with a piece of
wood. Suddenly a knife went straight past her about 3 inches above
her head. She ran into what looked like an old office and blocked the
door with a chair. She tried to smash a window but it wouldn't work.
After half an hour she still didnt hear anything. She thought the man
would be gone so she opened the door slowly and quietly. She then
heard a sound behind her. Her hands were shaking. She then felt
someone breathing at the back of her neck. She turned around slowly
and saw the man's face for about 2 seconds before it all went black!!!

39

Mr Sweeney’s Secret by Andre Gonzalez

John Law is one of the most disliked students in the school. He is
disliked because of his behaviour. Students hate him, teachers hate
him, even the cleaners hate him!
One day a teacher told him to stop flicking pens across the classroom
but he didn’t. He ended up hitting the teacher in the eye and the
teacher’s eye started bleeding. John just laughed at the teacher. He
ended up getting expelled.
John came back the next day with a gang that had guns. He told
everyone to give them their money. The gang pointed their guns at the
students and everyone listened. Mr Sweeney was shocked when he
saw what was happening. The gang saw him and walked towards him
to beat him up but Mr Sweeney did some weird karate moves and beat
them all! It turns out Mr Sweeney was a secret agent and worked for
the CIA. John and the gang were locked up and the school was safe
again.

40

My School by Ellie Dunne

It’s already morning and I’m getting up for school,
Oh my God! I haven’t done my homework, I’m such a fool.
As I walk to my classroom people give me looks,
As I carry around this pile of heavy books.
I sit down in my classroom,
But long to be in my bedroom,
I stare at the ceiling,
But wish it was evening.
My teacher tries to get the classrooms attention,
But some don’t listen and get a detention,
But I guess you can say school is grand,
But would prefer to be on my holidays in the sand.

41

My School by Zara Owens

Colaiste Chiarain,
My favourite school,

Can be boring,
Which makes me drool,
Homework pouring out of my bag,
I get so much it makes me gag,
Carrying all my books,
Afraid people are giving me looks,
But my friends are by my side,
Telling me to take it in my stride,
I love all my teachers,
They say I do my best,
Even when I do bad on a test,
Home Ec is my favourite subject,
My baking is almost perfect,
My locker is quite small,

It is beside a wall,
I come to learn,
I will never turn,
I really do love school,

It is so cool!!

42

Pierrot, pierrot by Tadhg Carey

Je suis arrivé
Un étranger
Pour devenir
Une pie

Pour devenir
Un hibou
Pour devenir
Un moineau

Un pierrot

En arrivant à
Une nouvelle école
Ce n’était pas
Une lutte indésirable

J’ai déménagé en esprit
Une nouvelle maison d’apprentissage
La même maison pour vivre

Sachez ça
L’ancien lieu
Ne me manque pas
Je préfère être
Un étranger

Qu'être le
Pierrot connu

La pie deménage
L’hibou deménage
Le moineau déménage

43

Ma migration était
Une plume
Rien qu'une plume
Le pierrot
Chante
Pierrot
Ne parle pas
Je voulais
Cette lutte

44

Relief by Lisa Tobin

“I forgot my book again” I said. “This is the third time this week” my
mom said. “I’m driving you to the school, it might be open”.
I got out of the car as the cold breeze hit me. I shivered, then tried to
open the gate. It squeaked and rattled as it opened. “I can’t believe it is
unlocked” I said. I sprinted down to the front door but it was locked. I
ran around to the first year social area and the door was wide open. I
stepped inside and peered around in case someone was there. I ran to
my locker and opened it fast. I grabbed my books and was nearly out of
the school when I heard a loud noise. I contemplated whether I should
investigate it or not but the curiosity was getting the better of me.
I roamed down the halls trying to open doors. It was weird seeing the
hallways so lifeless. It was dark and quiet now. I was walking past the
second year social area when I saw something down the long corridor.
It was a candle. I stared at it in confusion. Suddenly a dark figure
walked out beside the candle and sat down. I jumped behind some
lockers. Did they see me? I wondered. I peeped around the lockers and
saw more figures all sitting down with a candle in front of them. I
recognised them. They were my teachers! I tried to move back behind
the lockers when I accidently hit off someone’s lock. The sound echoed
around the school. I looked around the lockers again. A shiver went
down my spine when I saw them all standing up now, staring at me
with no expression on their faces. I was frozen in shock. The person at
the front shouted something in a weird language I had never heard
before and they all started chasing me.
I skidded around the corner and sprinted down the hallway.
I had never ran this fast in my life. I was scared. I couldn’t think. I tried
to open the front door again but of course it was locked. They were
catching up. I ran to the first year social area. My bag was weighing me
down and I could barely breathe. I jumped out the door and sprinted
back to the car and got in. “Why did you take so long and why are you
so out of breath?” my mom said with a worried look on her face. “I just
saw a teacher and didn’t want them to see me” I said with a shake in
my voice. My mom look confused but stayed silent. All I felt was relief.

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School at Night by Shannon Moore

The huge gates at the front of the school make it seem more
and more like a deathly scary prison. The wind whistling
through the bars sends chills up my spine. As I approach the
main door my level of anxiousness increases. After seeing the
silhouette of a man run across the hall the hairs on the back
of my neck stand up.
I entered the building without knowing that the door would
close behind me, I took one step into the hall. I heard
whispers coming from down the corridor, I could barely
make out what they were saying. I tried to run for the door
but it was locked. I decided to go to my locker and get my
books because that’s what I came here to do in the first place.
I headed towards my locker. Suddenly, I heard a classroom
door bang shut followed by a hoarse laugh that made me feel
very uneasy. Then all went quiet. The lights above my head
flickered. I move stealthy towards the classroom from which
the laughter was coming.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was scared out of my skin. I
spun around and to my surprise it was my principal. He
asked me why I was there and I told him that I came by to
pick up some books for homework. I knew at that moment he
didn’t want me there and I couldn’t help but wonder why. My
curiosity got the better of me and I asked him why he was
there. He mumbled something under his breath and said ‘ I’m
the principal of this school I have to be here after hours
sometimes’. With a suspicious look in his eye he asked me to
get the books I needed and leave. I didn’t say anything but
nodded my head because I didn’t dare to argue. He turned
swiftly and walked away to his office.

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I went to my locker and got my books. I walked to the main
entrance and remembered it was locked so I strolled back to
the principal’s office. I knocked on the door ‘Sir?’ I said
wearily ‘the door is...’ ‘Locked?’ he interrupted ‘Take the key
and give it back to me when you’re done’ I nodded.
I went off and opened the door. I heard a screech of a chair
against the tiles. I screamed, my face as white as snow. I left
the key in the door and ran as fast as the wind all the way
home. The next day couldn’t have came quicker I went to
school a bit later than usual because I had a night of restless
sleep.
My principal was nowhere to be found in school that day. I
was afraid something had happened to him. It must’ve just
been my mind playing tricks on me, but at that time I was
vulnerable to my own thoughts. I hated school in the day but
at night I didn’t hate it, no, I didn’t hate it. I was scared…

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School by Oscar Leahy

School is a dark, dangerous prison
If you don’t believe me, just you wait and see
The menacing seniors and bullies are the inmates that are coming after

me
Your parents are the officers, they make you get up early
Detention is solitary confinement, they must have sympathy surely!

Keep your belongings well hidden
Especially your mobile that's forbidden

Our dull uniform is the jumpsuit
Don’t try to escape, the teachers are not afraid to shoot

Always have eyes in the back of your head
Even when you're sleeping in bed

Going home early is temporary release
You must return to avoid the police
Don’t make enemies, use your head

Or else you might find your skull filled with lead
There would be no chance of escape now because you're dead

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School Runner by Rachael Allen Taylor

The sky above the port was the colour of a television turned to a dead
channel. Darkened grey smudges of wool threateningly surrounded
the sky; as a predator would encircle its prey.
A startlingly low rumble rang out loud in the cool fall air, the sky
roaring with satisfaction. Trickles of liquid hit the window with as
much force as a small child. Hungrily, drizzles turn into canon fires,
barricading everything in its way. A sense of cleanliness caresses the
atmosphere, washing away all impurities. The skies suddenly settle, as
if comforted, coaxed even. The fluffy smudges don’t part
completely, although the sun peeks out timidly - and rather looks like
it's preparing for an even more vicious round.

As Thomas turned and twisted in his bed all he could hear was this
voice over and over again. ‘I am your worst nightmare. I will listen to
your worst fears. I will understand what makes you tick, then I’ll
control you like a remote control toy. I’ll start you out with small tasks
you find distasteful and work you up to things you never dreamed you
were capable of. Why will you do all this for me? Because I’ll dangle the
illusion of trust before you and let you get close enough to almost
attain it. Then I’ll just ask you for one more little thing, to prove your
devotion of course. When you have become the person your old self
would have loathed beyond all others, I will disappear. Why? Because
that is the end of my game and you mean nothing to me. I am your
worst nightmare!! ‘THUD!!’.
Out of nowhere Thomas is trapped in a cage underground. It is moving
rapidly upwards. In a blink of an eye there is this shadow, dark and
unable to see. Everything goes red. Thomas begins to see colour. A
bunch of kids surround him as he laid frightened on the ground. He
hears a click as the gate closes. Breathing rapidly Thomas tries to get
some words out. The leader, Joseph, tells Thomas that all of them came
in just like him. They were all sleeping and suddenly they end up in the
middle of nowhere in a school surrounded by walls. ‘THUMP!!’. All the
children raced to the entrance of this area that looked like a maze. Two

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