1. #1
    Deleted

    Something i wrote when i was 13 for an English assignment :)

    Just found this on my old Doctor Who usb from school, this i just a small sample of it, i really did have a troubled up bringing. I think its pretty good considering how young i was
    (its probably littered with punctuation mistakes)

    CHAPTER ONE : NO PLACE LIKE HOME


    Today seemed like it was going to be like every other,the sun rose over the treetops and the next doors neighbors dog barked as usual. Stephens room flooded with light in the august morning glow casting shadows from the empty alcohol bottles and glasses on the windowsill. Stephen was the youngest child of Mrs Jones and Mr Clarke, so therefore got the box room which he had inherited from his sister Anne when she moved away with her new boyfriend, (Stephens father moved away when he was younger so he lived with his step father) the room had not changed much since her departure, the curtains where still pink and the small single bed hadn't moved. the pink and blue walls where in desperate need of being painted over, and there wasn't an inch to move because of Stephens drum kit.

    The residents of 49 Burton street stirred as next doors Jack Russel grew louder and more annoying, Stephen woke with a serious hangover his head pounding with pain, he checked the alarm clock on the windowsill which had never been used to actually wake him up, it was 9am a ridiculous time to wake up in Stephens opinion. Swiftly crossing the room and stubbing his toe in a daze, Stephen wrenched open his bedroom door onto the blindingly light landing. crossing over to the bigger of the 3 bedrooms Stephen lightly lifted down the handle and glanced inside to see if his elder brother Jack was awake, Jack had obviously not come back last night because his bed was un-occupied. opening the door ajar Stephen walked in, he prefer his brothers room to any other in the house, the walls where plastered with his brothers amazing artwork and the carpet was always warm and greeting. Stephen walked past the double bed and pulled the curtains open, the light illuminated the wall in a sea of dazzling yellow. admiring his brothers artwork for a few minutes, Stephen mustered himself.

    Walking down the badly painted wooden staircase that was peeling in places, his dog Mak greeted him wagging his tail happily not a worry in the world, turning left Stephen walked into the brightly yellow painted kitchen, looking out the window at the utter mess of a garden he poured himself a glass of water staring blankly at a singular car Tyre surrounded by a mote of grass. Walking out of the kitchen into the dark dingy hallway, he turned left into the living room running his fingers across the splintery dado rail as he went, this room was Stephens least favorite, his controlling step father had managed to cut everyone but himself off from the television and stereo. He sat down on the old battered third hand sofa sloping slightly on the un-even wooden floor and looked blankly at the television and waited for his mom to get out of her bed.

    Banging noises on the ceiling over his head announced that his mother had finally woken up, Mrs Jones worked at the local subway but had been forced to quit due to the fact that the owners had gone bust. His step dad had quit his job at the factory because in his words he was 'fed up'.

    Birds tweeted outside, as footsteps grew closer. Stephen lifted himself from the dusty sofa, and looked through the door frame. "hey" Stephens voice was uncaring as his step dad looked back at him non plaused, "wheres mom"?. a broad grin widened on Simon's face, "shes gone to wales, left this morning" Simon's voice was cold. Simon was six feet tall and gangly, his face was long like a horses and his features where droopy, he wore glasses because he was half blind and always had the smell of old cider on his breath.
    Stephens mind raced, the look of smugness on Simon's face made him want to rip his face to bloody shreds. "why the fuck she gone wales", the look on Stephens face only made Simon's broad grin grow larger. "gone to visit her dad", "but she hates wales" there was a slight pause to which Simon replied "not so much anymore it would seem", Simon took a last smug glance at Stephen and walked into the sickeningly bright kitchen.

    Simon reached for the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Sainsburys own brand cider, reaching for a glass in the cupboard he said "I'm going too in a couple of days" The malicious voice carried ringing in Stephens ears; good riddance Stephen thought.
    "Thing is Stephen, your mother and i have decided that we are going to be moving to wales". it was like a slap to the face, Stephen could not catch his breath in time before the words slipped from his mouth, "and i guess this was your fucking idea?!, you know mom hates wales, she despises the fucking shit-hole, are you both going to live in a nice little caravan with the dogs"?. it was a well known fact that Simon was a jealous control freak and that his life's desire was to live in a caravan and have his mother segregated from the the rest of the world, to have her all to himself. "you dare speak to me like that?, you little cunt". Simon's fist pummeled towards Stephens face propelled by pure hatred, Stephen ducked just in time, Simon's fist met the surface of the weak council house plaster-board with an almighty smack, bits of plaster flew in all directions, the dog was jumping up Simon's leg barking uncontrollably.

    Thinking on impulse Stephen ducked under Simon's arm knocking the bin over in the process as Simon was still in a daze clutching his broken fingers, Stephen ripped open the cutlery drawer and brandished the black handled kitchen knife in Simon's face. "what the fuck do you think you are going to do with that you little prick?", roared Simon clutching his now bleeding hand. "Im gonna fucking stab you", it sounded week and raspy. Stephen hardly knew what he was doing, his hands where shacking with shock and rage, his body seemed to be acting of its own accord, Stephen gripped the handle tighter and started to run towards Simon slashing the air as he ran.

  2. #2
    Deleted
    Wish I could post what I wrote for my Swedish assignment last fall, it's in Swedish though.

  3. #3
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    Quote Originally Posted by Oskz View Post
    Wish I could post what I wrote for my Swedish assignment last fall, it's in Swedish though.
    Google translate?

  4. #4
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    Quote Originally Posted by Nykolas View Post
    Google translate?
    That would probably ruin it, have you seen how badly they translate things? They basically do it word for word.

  5. #5
    Mechagnome Ineko's Avatar
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    Very impressive for a 13 year old....

    I'm currently doing my HSC (final year of school in Australia) and only wish that I could compose a story as well written as yours, my creative writing skills are atrocious.

    Nice work.

  6. #6
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ineko View Post
    Very impressive for a 13 year old....

    I'm currently doing my HSC (final year of school in Australia) and only wish that I could compose a story as well written as yours, my creative writing skills are atrocious.

    Nice work.
    thanks i did early entry exams at 14 too

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