GoldenrodGOD
Unrivalled Confidence xo
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Hi everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted here, but I am now, and it's completed work! As much as I already love that you've taken the time to read this, I also need your help; I need your opinion on it. And I don't mean just critique.
The following four pieces in this thread just so happen to be coursework for my iGCSE English Literature and Language. However, only one can be chosen. How I wish I could submit all of these for a straight path to an A*! But I can't. Only once creative writing piece is allowed. And the main problem?
All of my pieces earned A grades.
Oh noez! First world problems are so deep and meaningful and problematic! /sarcasticmuch
So, as you can see there is a poll at the top of the page, where you can vote which one out of my writing pieces was your favourite! With your help, I can select the one which will contribute in determining my future!
(Also, if you really are bored and have way too much time on your hands, you can guess in which order I wrote these pieces over the past 18 months to guesstimate how my style and skillz have developed. They aren't in order, so don't try that.)
Broken Hearts with a Side Dish of Revenge
Backstory: One of the teacher's daughters who happens to be a writer gave us a workshop one lesson. At some point she passed out pictures of random people/characters, and for homework we had to write a creative writing piece using them. I had a picture of a lady wearing what looked like an apron with nothing else underneath whilst holding a baking tray with jam cakes on them.
Playing with Time...?
Backstory: We were looking at artwork and had to choose one of the pictures to write a piece on. I chose The Persistence of Memory bySalvador Dali
Travel Writing
Backstory: We were asked to recall something that had happened over the holidays, so, this is non-fiction. I decided to write about the Underage Festival.
Marissa Lotte
Backstory: Anyone from Castform recognise the name? We had been doing work on some London Underground fiction based on the number of seats per train, and were told to create a creative writing piece using the character we had created in the lesson. Guess I just re-used a character that was knocking around in my noggin.
Also, for those who may be interested, I have mentioned some people based on their characters from the Castform Academy RP:
Jone (Joe) - @The Anonymous
LaLa (LeeLee) - @Fwee~
Lucy/Tempest - GoldenrodGirl
Kris (Chris) - @Stellar Haze
Danny (Dante (Yes, I know she is female, but Danny sounds similar)) - @Uu-winchi... On!
I have permission from @Ma†erialGirl McQüeen to use Stacy Lewis, for those who may be wondering.
So, there we have it! Please vote in the poll before Monday 12th March (coursework deadline), and thank you for reading!
The following four pieces in this thread just so happen to be coursework for my iGCSE English Literature and Language. However, only one can be chosen. How I wish I could submit all of these for a straight path to an A*! But I can't. Only once creative writing piece is allowed. And the main problem?
All of my pieces earned A grades.
Oh noez! First world problems are so deep and meaningful and problematic! /sarcasticmuch
So, as you can see there is a poll at the top of the page, where you can vote which one out of my writing pieces was your favourite! With your help, I can select the one which will contribute in determining my future!
(Also, if you really are bored and have way too much time on your hands, you can guess in which order I wrote these pieces over the past 18 months to guesstimate how my style and skillz have developed. They aren't in order, so don't try that.)
Broken Hearts with a Side Dish of Revenge
Backstory: One of the teacher's daughters who happens to be a writer gave us a workshop one lesson. At some point she passed out pictures of random people/characters, and for homework we had to write a creative writing piece using them. I had a picture of a lady wearing what looked like an apron with nothing else underneath whilst holding a baking tray with jam cakes on them.
Disgusting things. Almost as bad as life itself.
“That’s lovely, dear!” I cooed, with a totally bright and totally fake smile plastered on my face.
“I dug them up myself,” Darcy, my five-year old niece proudly informed me, thrusting a box of worms towards me, their pinks bodies rolling over and over in the wet soil in a seemingly endless cycle. I gritted my teeth, and resisted the urge to set the box alight before hurling it out of the window and disinfecting the whole kitchen to destroy any germs that might have occurred in the past five minutes.
“So, what are you planning to do with them?” I inquired, on the outside, caring about what she thought, but on the inside, dreading what the little brat was planning on doing next.
Darcy bit her lip and frowned, her head tilted in thought, before finally coming up with an answer a few seconds later. Too bad I’d already found one.
“Why don’t you go and wash your hands so you can eat some delicious cake?” I offered enticingly as I ushered her towards the sink without waiting for her to answer, before I yanked the bar of soap from the basin and began to scrub my niece’s hands viciously to exterminate all hidden germs.
“Auntie Renée, you’re hurting me!” Darcy whined. I stopped scrubbing to see that nearly a quarter of the bar of soap had disintegrated and Darcy’s hands were tinged a light red.
“Sorry, dear!” I apologised. “Have a seat whilst I get you some fresh cupcakes to help you feel better!” I fake-smiled again as I shoved the child into a chair, causing Darcy to whimper slightly, but all that mattered was that I spent as little time as possible with my back turned to her. Who knew what the child would get up to if nobody was watching her for longer than five seconds? Also, I still had to deal with the box of worms before anything else could happen.
“Auntie Renée, what are we going to do with the worms?” I heard Darcy ask. Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening saved me from answering.
“Is that you, Evan?” I asked as I arranged the cupcakes on a plate.
“Mmff.” My sixteen year old son, Evan, answered in response as he stalked through the kitchen towards the plate of cakes that had already been placed on the table that Darcy was also helping herself to.
“Hi, Mrs Corina!” A female, unfamiliar voice trilled. I turned around to see a girl the same age as Evan beaming at me.
“Who’s this, Evan?” I asked, ignoring the girl, as I smiled frostily at her.
“Umff. Goes to my school. Found her outside. Keeps saying weird stuff. Mmff.” Evan mumbled.
“I’m Mia, nice to meet you!” The girl smiled warmly as she introduced herself, and stuck her hand out for me to shake. I stared at it, until she got the message and slowly retracted her hand.
“Sit down, have some cake!” I fake-smiled. Twenty minutes later, the three were still sitting there, eating the fresh cupcakes.
Strange, I thought to myself. Twenty minutes ago, Evan would’ve gone upstairs and hidden in his room until he emerged for food. Who is this girl and what has she done to cause such major change?
“Anyway, as I was saying, Mrs. Corina,” Mia continued. I snapped out of my trance, realising she was addressing me.
“Yes, dear?” I smiled. The fake-smile was wearing thin, and so was my patience.
“I’m just, like, sooooo glad I met you!” Mia drawled, drawing patterns in the cake crumbs on the table. I made a mental note to buy more disinfectant, as I surely would have run out by the time I’d finished cleaning the place after everyone had left.
“Why’s that, dear?” I sighed, no longer able to mask my exasperation.
“I’m your husband’s illegitimate daughter!” Mia suddenly exclaimed. Evan’s jaw dropped, even more cake crumbs falling onto the table, whilst I had opted to drop my baking tray onto the floor, creating a clattering noise as the metal tray fell onto the tiled floor.
“’Gitamate, ’gitamate. What does that mean, Auntie Renée?” Darcy asked, breaking the silence with childish innocence, as she squished a coconut-strawberry cupcake onto the table, the jam oozing onto the polished wood.
“It means I’m your Uncle Matt’s daughter, except Auntie Renée isn’t my Mommy,” Mia explained, handing another cupcake to Darcy for her to flatten like a bulldozer.
“Why not?” Darcy asked the worst possible question she could’ve asked at that current moment.
“Because-“
“I think you’re mistaken,” I suddenly interrupted. This girl had to be joking. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Nothing like this could ever happen to me. My life, my family, myself was perfect. This only happened to failures. Not people like me.
“I’m afraid it is, Renée.” Mia said quietly. “Your family may not have known, but for the past sixteen years, my siblings and I have. It’s only now that our father and your husband have gathered the courage to let me tell you.”
It was like my designer kitchen had suddenly been whipped into a hurricane. Everything began spinning at a bewildering rate, and everything and all its colour was blurring into each other. I blinked, once, twice, before calmly reaching for the phone and turning towards Mia.
“Get out.” I growled, tightening my grip on the phone as if to emphasize my point as I slowly walked towards her. I suddenly watched the three children’s eyes and mouths transform into three wide circles. The sound of chair legs screeching could be heard as Mia stood up abruptly and began to back away.
“But, Renée, I, Mrs Corina, it’s-“ Mia stuttered as she backed further and further away towards the front door.
“I don’t care. All I care is that you leave our lives forever, you little-“
I was suddenly cut off by the sound of keys jangling as the front door was opened.
“I’m home, everyone!” An all too familiar voice boomed, before the front door opened. Who would it reveal?
My loving, caring husband who would never ever betray me? Darcy’s jolly, kind uncle who cared for all of his family so much? Evan’s father, the greatest Dad in the whole world who had always been there for him?
Or Mia’s father, the man who had managed to hide away his whole other family for the past sixteen years?
“That’s lovely, dear!” I cooed, with a totally bright and totally fake smile plastered on my face.
“I dug them up myself,” Darcy, my five-year old niece proudly informed me, thrusting a box of worms towards me, their pinks bodies rolling over and over in the wet soil in a seemingly endless cycle. I gritted my teeth, and resisted the urge to set the box alight before hurling it out of the window and disinfecting the whole kitchen to destroy any germs that might have occurred in the past five minutes.
“So, what are you planning to do with them?” I inquired, on the outside, caring about what she thought, but on the inside, dreading what the little brat was planning on doing next.
Darcy bit her lip and frowned, her head tilted in thought, before finally coming up with an answer a few seconds later. Too bad I’d already found one.
“Why don’t you go and wash your hands so you can eat some delicious cake?” I offered enticingly as I ushered her towards the sink without waiting for her to answer, before I yanked the bar of soap from the basin and began to scrub my niece’s hands viciously to exterminate all hidden germs.
“Auntie Renée, you’re hurting me!” Darcy whined. I stopped scrubbing to see that nearly a quarter of the bar of soap had disintegrated and Darcy’s hands were tinged a light red.
“Sorry, dear!” I apologised. “Have a seat whilst I get you some fresh cupcakes to help you feel better!” I fake-smiled again as I shoved the child into a chair, causing Darcy to whimper slightly, but all that mattered was that I spent as little time as possible with my back turned to her. Who knew what the child would get up to if nobody was watching her for longer than five seconds? Also, I still had to deal with the box of worms before anything else could happen.
“Auntie Renée, what are we going to do with the worms?” I heard Darcy ask. Thankfully, the sound of the front door opening saved me from answering.
“Is that you, Evan?” I asked as I arranged the cupcakes on a plate.
“Mmff.” My sixteen year old son, Evan, answered in response as he stalked through the kitchen towards the plate of cakes that had already been placed on the table that Darcy was also helping herself to.
“Hi, Mrs Corina!” A female, unfamiliar voice trilled. I turned around to see a girl the same age as Evan beaming at me.
“Who’s this, Evan?” I asked, ignoring the girl, as I smiled frostily at her.
“Umff. Goes to my school. Found her outside. Keeps saying weird stuff. Mmff.” Evan mumbled.
“I’m Mia, nice to meet you!” The girl smiled warmly as she introduced herself, and stuck her hand out for me to shake. I stared at it, until she got the message and slowly retracted her hand.
“Sit down, have some cake!” I fake-smiled. Twenty minutes later, the three were still sitting there, eating the fresh cupcakes.
Strange, I thought to myself. Twenty minutes ago, Evan would’ve gone upstairs and hidden in his room until he emerged for food. Who is this girl and what has she done to cause such major change?
“Anyway, as I was saying, Mrs. Corina,” Mia continued. I snapped out of my trance, realising she was addressing me.
“Yes, dear?” I smiled. The fake-smile was wearing thin, and so was my patience.
“I’m just, like, sooooo glad I met you!” Mia drawled, drawing patterns in the cake crumbs on the table. I made a mental note to buy more disinfectant, as I surely would have run out by the time I’d finished cleaning the place after everyone had left.
“Why’s that, dear?” I sighed, no longer able to mask my exasperation.
“I’m your husband’s illegitimate daughter!” Mia suddenly exclaimed. Evan’s jaw dropped, even more cake crumbs falling onto the table, whilst I had opted to drop my baking tray onto the floor, creating a clattering noise as the metal tray fell onto the tiled floor.
“’Gitamate, ’gitamate. What does that mean, Auntie Renée?” Darcy asked, breaking the silence with childish innocence, as she squished a coconut-strawberry cupcake onto the table, the jam oozing onto the polished wood.
“It means I’m your Uncle Matt’s daughter, except Auntie Renée isn’t my Mommy,” Mia explained, handing another cupcake to Darcy for her to flatten like a bulldozer.
“Why not?” Darcy asked the worst possible question she could’ve asked at that current moment.
“Because-“
“I think you’re mistaken,” I suddenly interrupted. This girl had to be joking. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Nothing like this could ever happen to me. My life, my family, myself was perfect. This only happened to failures. Not people like me.
“I’m afraid it is, Renée.” Mia said quietly. “Your family may not have known, but for the past sixteen years, my siblings and I have. It’s only now that our father and your husband have gathered the courage to let me tell you.”
It was like my designer kitchen had suddenly been whipped into a hurricane. Everything began spinning at a bewildering rate, and everything and all its colour was blurring into each other. I blinked, once, twice, before calmly reaching for the phone and turning towards Mia.
“Get out.” I growled, tightening my grip on the phone as if to emphasize my point as I slowly walked towards her. I suddenly watched the three children’s eyes and mouths transform into three wide circles. The sound of chair legs screeching could be heard as Mia stood up abruptly and began to back away.
“But, Renée, I, Mrs Corina, it’s-“ Mia stuttered as she backed further and further away towards the front door.
“I don’t care. All I care is that you leave our lives forever, you little-“
I was suddenly cut off by the sound of keys jangling as the front door was opened.
“I’m home, everyone!” An all too familiar voice boomed, before the front door opened. Who would it reveal?
My loving, caring husband who would never ever betray me? Darcy’s jolly, kind uncle who cared for all of his family so much? Evan’s father, the greatest Dad in the whole world who had always been there for him?
Or Mia’s father, the man who had managed to hide away his whole other family for the past sixteen years?
Playing with Time...?
Backstory: We were looking at artwork and had to choose one of the pictures to write a piece on. I chose The Persistence of Memory bySalvador Dali
“You. Are. A. Ge-ni-us.”
“I know, right?”
It had been two days since I’d invented it. It was going to change the world. No, scratch that, it was going to change the entire universe.
It just so happened to be-wait for it-a time machine!
“So. How. Does. It. Work. Then?” My best friend and pet robot, Self Efficient Technician Helper, aka, SETH, asked. He had been my greatest creation so far, that was, until I had made the time machine. Still, he was the greatest out of all my robots, even if it did take him a few seconds to say each word.
“Oh, well, basically, you go inside it, and then you type in the time period you want to travel to in the mini laptop I built inside and then press the giant green button that say ‘GO’, and then, well, yeah.” I shrugged, gesturing the portable toilet on wheels in front of us.
“It. Looks. Ri-di-cu-lous. Luke. But. You. Are. Still. A. Ge-ni-us.”
“Thanks, SETH. Look, if you don’t believe me, let’s hop inside and we’ll go to any time period you want. Seriously!” I flung the door open and gestured for SETH to join me. Once he had reluctantly got inside, I shut the door and began pressing some buttons and typing some things into the keyboard. I knew SETH was incredibly self-conscious even though he technically wasn’t human, but who would be watching a robot and a twelve year old get into a portable shed in somebody’s back garden?
“So, where’d d’ya wanna go?” I asked as I pulled various levers and turned several dials.
“Last. Night. Please. I. Missed. The. Be-gin-ning. Of. Big. Bang. The-o-ry.” SETH stated as he folded his arms, obviously unconvinced. Well, I was going to change all that within a matter of seconds.
“Alright, then. Yesterday, seven o’clock it is!” I agreed as I turned a few more dials before pressing the ‘GO’ button.
Several seconds passed, and nothing had happened.
Several minutes passed, and still nothing had happened.
“Well. That. Was. Great. Luke. Thanks.” SETH stated sarcastically before reaching for the door handle. But just before he grabbed the handle, the portable toilet began to shake until it was vibrating so quickly that I couldn’t see straight anymore and a buzzing noise was getting louder and louder until there was a huge flash of light, and then it...stopped.
“Wow. You. Are. So. Messed. Up. Luke.” SETH stated before literally pulling the handle down and forcing the door open to see...it was night time?
“What was that you were saying, SETH?” I asked casually as I stepped out after him.
“Um. Um. Um. Oh. Look. Big. Bang. Theo-ry. Is. On. In. Your. Liv-ing. Room.” SETH stated before taking off and rushing inside the house whilst I smirked smugly at his retreating back.
Almost a day later, SETH and I were stood in my back garden staring at the time machine.
“So. How. Did. You. Do. It. Then.” SETH finally asked.
“Well...I’m not going to go into elaborate detail, but it did take fifty years.” I admitted.
“Fif-ty. Years. Luke. You. Are. On-ly. Twelve.” SETH stated, his face screwing up in confusion as his system tried to make sense of what I was saying.
“Yeah. I know. But my grandfather was just like me, working on this time machine. When my Dad was cleaning out his attic a few years back, he found this and was going to chuck it, but I took it and realised what it was and began working on it.” I explained as I ran my finger along the outside of the portable toilet. “I know it’s not actually a portable toilet, but it’s easiest to call it that. Anyway-“ I turned to face SETH. “What time is it?” I asked with a mischievous grin on my face.
“One. O. Clock.” SETH answered.
“Nope.” I grinned at SETH. His face screwed up once again as his system tried to smooth over the mistake. “It’s time to get rich and famous.”
And I was right. A week later, me, SETH and my time machine were all over the news and on TV. I had been an overnight phenomenon. My parents and I had been given pots and pots of money, so much that I couldn’t even begin to count, but I couldn’t help but feel that I’d done something wrong. And because of that, bad things were going to happen.
Once again, I was correct. At night, when I would lay in bed and sleep, I would always dream. And it would always be the same dream. But I didn’t even know what it was. When I had first dreamt of it, everything had been blurry and I couldn’t see or hear much. Each night, the dream became clearer in sound and image, and last night I had been able to see and hear everything for the first time.
I was on a beach. I looked into the distance, and I could see the sun was rising just below...a blue sky? What was happening? I looked just below the sunlight to see the wide ocean was just like a mirror, and the cliff face right next to it was reflected clearly in the water. I had to get a closer look. But just before I could, a booming voice shouted, stopping me right in my tracks.
“STOP RIGHT THERE, LUKE DE BAZ!” A deep voice sounded, making me jump.
“W-who’s there?” I tried to make my voice sound definite and sure of itself, but instead, it trembled and went squeaky.
“WE ARE THE VOICES OF TIME!” The voice replied. I suddenly looked right in front of me to see several clock faces that had...melted? One was hanging off a tree, one was lying on a rock and the other was falling off a block.
“The v-voices of t-time?” I whispered, before straightening up and speaking again. Why was I shaking? I was practically the ruler of time! I had created a device to control time! They should be scared of me! “The voices of time? Yeah, right! You lot just look like marzipan!” I snorted.
“DO NOT DISRESPECT US! WE ARE NOT HERE TO MAKE YOU FEEL INFERIOR!” The voice boomed again, making me jump again.
“Wow, you sure could’ve fooled me.” I muttered before raising my voice. “Fine. What do you want from me, then?”
“LIKE WE STATED BEFORE, WE ARE THE FACES OF TIME! THERE ARE FOUR OF US ALTOGETHER!” The voice replied.
“Four. Um, I only see three.” I rolled my eyes.
“WHY DON’T YOU LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT?” The voice answered. I rolled my eyes again before turning to the right and jumping in fear and then leaning away in disgust. The fourth and final clock face was encased in an orange material, not gold like the others, and was closed. Insects crawled all over the face, some dangerously close to me.
“DO YOU SEE THAT CLOCK? LOOK AT WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO IT. ITS FACE IS CLOSED, MEANING A CERTAIN AREA OF TIME WILL STOP SOON!” The voice screamed.
“Time will…stop?” I repeated? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“IT MEANS THAT EVERYTHING IN THAT AREA WILL FREEZE! NOTHING WILL MOVE! THE WIND DOES NOT BLOW! THE SUN NEVER COMES! EVERYTHING WILL DIE!” The voice shouted, sounding quite exasperated by now.
“Everything…will…die…if I keep using the time machine?” I slowly asked.
“YES!” The voice replied, sounding extremely impatient.
“Well…I guess it’s been fun, being famous and having money and all, but…I don’t exactly want the world to die. So, I guess I’ll have to do what I have to do.” I sighed.
“GOOD.” The voice said, sounding quite pleased now. And with that, I woke up.
Exactly two weeks later at the exact same time and place as before, SETH and I were stood in my back garden and staring at the time machine.
“Are. You. Sure. You. Want. To. Do. This. Luke?” SETH asked? I replied with a silent nod.
“Well. Here. Goes. Then.” SETH finally said before grabbing a spanner and smashing the time machine with his robot strength. Five minutes later, the greatest invention of all time had been reduced to a melted mess.
“Why are you smiling? The greatest invention of all time just got destroyed!” I frowned at SETH, who was smirking.
“What. Are. You. Talk-ing. A-bout. Luke. I. Am. Your. Great-est. In-ven-tion. Of. All. Time. Now.” SETH replied with a grin.
“Whatever.” I shrugged. “That’s the last time I invent anything.”
“I know, right?”
It had been two days since I’d invented it. It was going to change the world. No, scratch that, it was going to change the entire universe.
It just so happened to be-wait for it-a time machine!
“So. How. Does. It. Work. Then?” My best friend and pet robot, Self Efficient Technician Helper, aka, SETH, asked. He had been my greatest creation so far, that was, until I had made the time machine. Still, he was the greatest out of all my robots, even if it did take him a few seconds to say each word.
“Oh, well, basically, you go inside it, and then you type in the time period you want to travel to in the mini laptop I built inside and then press the giant green button that say ‘GO’, and then, well, yeah.” I shrugged, gesturing the portable toilet on wheels in front of us.
“It. Looks. Ri-di-cu-lous. Luke. But. You. Are. Still. A. Ge-ni-us.”
“Thanks, SETH. Look, if you don’t believe me, let’s hop inside and we’ll go to any time period you want. Seriously!” I flung the door open and gestured for SETH to join me. Once he had reluctantly got inside, I shut the door and began pressing some buttons and typing some things into the keyboard. I knew SETH was incredibly self-conscious even though he technically wasn’t human, but who would be watching a robot and a twelve year old get into a portable shed in somebody’s back garden?
“So, where’d d’ya wanna go?” I asked as I pulled various levers and turned several dials.
“Last. Night. Please. I. Missed. The. Be-gin-ning. Of. Big. Bang. The-o-ry.” SETH stated as he folded his arms, obviously unconvinced. Well, I was going to change all that within a matter of seconds.
“Alright, then. Yesterday, seven o’clock it is!” I agreed as I turned a few more dials before pressing the ‘GO’ button.
Several seconds passed, and nothing had happened.
Several minutes passed, and still nothing had happened.
“Well. That. Was. Great. Luke. Thanks.” SETH stated sarcastically before reaching for the door handle. But just before he grabbed the handle, the portable toilet began to shake until it was vibrating so quickly that I couldn’t see straight anymore and a buzzing noise was getting louder and louder until there was a huge flash of light, and then it...stopped.
“Wow. You. Are. So. Messed. Up. Luke.” SETH stated before literally pulling the handle down and forcing the door open to see...it was night time?
“What was that you were saying, SETH?” I asked casually as I stepped out after him.
“Um. Um. Um. Oh. Look. Big. Bang. Theo-ry. Is. On. In. Your. Liv-ing. Room.” SETH stated before taking off and rushing inside the house whilst I smirked smugly at his retreating back.
Almost a day later, SETH and I were stood in my back garden staring at the time machine.
“So. How. Did. You. Do. It. Then.” SETH finally asked.
“Well...I’m not going to go into elaborate detail, but it did take fifty years.” I admitted.
“Fif-ty. Years. Luke. You. Are. On-ly. Twelve.” SETH stated, his face screwing up in confusion as his system tried to make sense of what I was saying.
“Yeah. I know. But my grandfather was just like me, working on this time machine. When my Dad was cleaning out his attic a few years back, he found this and was going to chuck it, but I took it and realised what it was and began working on it.” I explained as I ran my finger along the outside of the portable toilet. “I know it’s not actually a portable toilet, but it’s easiest to call it that. Anyway-“ I turned to face SETH. “What time is it?” I asked with a mischievous grin on my face.
“One. O. Clock.” SETH answered.
“Nope.” I grinned at SETH. His face screwed up once again as his system tried to smooth over the mistake. “It’s time to get rich and famous.”
And I was right. A week later, me, SETH and my time machine were all over the news and on TV. I had been an overnight phenomenon. My parents and I had been given pots and pots of money, so much that I couldn’t even begin to count, but I couldn’t help but feel that I’d done something wrong. And because of that, bad things were going to happen.
Once again, I was correct. At night, when I would lay in bed and sleep, I would always dream. And it would always be the same dream. But I didn’t even know what it was. When I had first dreamt of it, everything had been blurry and I couldn’t see or hear much. Each night, the dream became clearer in sound and image, and last night I had been able to see and hear everything for the first time.
I was on a beach. I looked into the distance, and I could see the sun was rising just below...a blue sky? What was happening? I looked just below the sunlight to see the wide ocean was just like a mirror, and the cliff face right next to it was reflected clearly in the water. I had to get a closer look. But just before I could, a booming voice shouted, stopping me right in my tracks.
“STOP RIGHT THERE, LUKE DE BAZ!” A deep voice sounded, making me jump.
“W-who’s there?” I tried to make my voice sound definite and sure of itself, but instead, it trembled and went squeaky.
“WE ARE THE VOICES OF TIME!” The voice replied. I suddenly looked right in front of me to see several clock faces that had...melted? One was hanging off a tree, one was lying on a rock and the other was falling off a block.
“The v-voices of t-time?” I whispered, before straightening up and speaking again. Why was I shaking? I was practically the ruler of time! I had created a device to control time! They should be scared of me! “The voices of time? Yeah, right! You lot just look like marzipan!” I snorted.
“DO NOT DISRESPECT US! WE ARE NOT HERE TO MAKE YOU FEEL INFERIOR!” The voice boomed again, making me jump again.
“Wow, you sure could’ve fooled me.” I muttered before raising my voice. “Fine. What do you want from me, then?”
“LIKE WE STATED BEFORE, WE ARE THE FACES OF TIME! THERE ARE FOUR OF US ALTOGETHER!” The voice replied.
“Four. Um, I only see three.” I rolled my eyes.
“WHY DON’T YOU LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT?” The voice answered. I rolled my eyes again before turning to the right and jumping in fear and then leaning away in disgust. The fourth and final clock face was encased in an orange material, not gold like the others, and was closed. Insects crawled all over the face, some dangerously close to me.
“DO YOU SEE THAT CLOCK? LOOK AT WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO IT. ITS FACE IS CLOSED, MEANING A CERTAIN AREA OF TIME WILL STOP SOON!” The voice screamed.
“Time will…stop?” I repeated? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“IT MEANS THAT EVERYTHING IN THAT AREA WILL FREEZE! NOTHING WILL MOVE! THE WIND DOES NOT BLOW! THE SUN NEVER COMES! EVERYTHING WILL DIE!” The voice shouted, sounding quite exasperated by now.
“Everything…will…die…if I keep using the time machine?” I slowly asked.
“YES!” The voice replied, sounding extremely impatient.
“Well…I guess it’s been fun, being famous and having money and all, but…I don’t exactly want the world to die. So, I guess I’ll have to do what I have to do.” I sighed.
“GOOD.” The voice said, sounding quite pleased now. And with that, I woke up.
Exactly two weeks later at the exact same time and place as before, SETH and I were stood in my back garden and staring at the time machine.
“Are. You. Sure. You. Want. To. Do. This. Luke?” SETH asked? I replied with a silent nod.
“Well. Here. Goes. Then.” SETH finally said before grabbing a spanner and smashing the time machine with his robot strength. Five minutes later, the greatest invention of all time had been reduced to a melted mess.
“Why are you smiling? The greatest invention of all time just got destroyed!” I frowned at SETH, who was smirking.
“What. Are. You. Talk-ing. A-bout. Luke. I. Am. Your. Great-est. In-ven-tion. Of. All. Time. Now.” SETH replied with a grin.
“Whatever.” I shrugged. “That’s the last time I invent anything.”
Travel Writing
Backstory: We were asked to recall something that had happened over the holidays, so, this is non-fiction. I decided to write about the Underage Festival.
I can still remember it vividly. It was one of the most panicked moments of my life. Nobody could tell me what to do. I had to work it out myself. I had to take charge. And if something went wrong…it would be all my fault.
Friday 5th August 2011. The Underage Festival, Victoria Park. Sometime past 10:30am.
I wasn’t really that excited. Why had I forced myself and my friends to pay £30 each for some festival in which we only wanted to see one band perform? I’d have preferred to save the money for something else, since we’d usually pay half that amount to see said band in concert by themselves, no other acts or anything.
So, there we were, standing outside the gates in the middle of the crowd, waiting to be let in. I remember huge Mexican waves rippling through the crowd as the cameras filmed all of us, everyone screaming and jumping up and down with so much excitement that I think it’s safe to say that the atmosphere was incredibly contagious, and I could feel myself getting just as anxious and hyped up as everyone around me.
And then, just as I was getting into the mood, screaming my throat raw, I heard someone next to me speak.
“Hey, um, Law, I feel a bit ill...”
“Huh?”
I turned to see my best friend of over eleven years looking unnaturally pale, her mouth tight shut in a thin line.
“Oh, okay. Let’s get out of here.” I suggested, pulling her out of the crowd, just thinking that she perhaps felt a bit ill from being smashed together in the midst of a crowd of angst-ridden teenagers. As we walked towards the middle of the field, I asked her what was wrong.
“I-I don’t know, Law. I think...I think I’m going to faint...”
“Wh...What?!”
I hadn’t meant to, but I immediately panicked. I was used to Alex sometimes getting a little bit ill from time to time, but even after eleven years, this was definitely something new to me. I couldn’t even stop myself from blurting out or attempting to stop myself from making Alex panic. I had to know what was going on.
“Ha-Has this happened before?!”
“Y-Yeah...”
“When?!”
“Back around in September. When I was in school...I fainted...”
“Oh...”
I felt a slight pang when she said that. Another thing I’d missed out on due to moving schools after year eight. It was hard enough already that we only saw each other at a minimum of once a month, even though we only lived five minutes away from each other.
I quickly shook my head. Focus!
“Hey, stop. Sit down.” I instructed, suddenly stopping. Alex did as she was told. “Do you feel better when you do that?”
“Um, yeah, a little bit.” Alex replied feebly, struggling to keep her eyes open as she lowered her back. “I think I’m just gonna lie down, I feel really-“
“No, stop.” I interrupted. “Lie down on my lap. Don’t lie down on the grass.” I sat down next to Alex and folded my legs as I pulled her head onto my lap.
“No, Law, it’s okay, I just need a paracetamol and I’ll be fine, I just...” Alex attempted to protest, but she looked like she was getting weaker by the second.
“Stop it. Just close your eyes and relax.” I ordered. Alex immediately quietened down and relaxed her head, her breathing getting steeper. As I looked up at the clear blue sky, I wondered what we looked like to everyone around us. To them, we probably just looked like two girls relaxing in the middle of a park. To me, I was seconds away from watching my friend pass out and having no idea what to do.
“Hey, um, Alex...” I suddenly spoke, interrupting the silence.
“Yeah?” Alex murmured, her eyes fluttering open as she attempted to get back up. I immediately told her to stop.
“What do I...what do I do if you pass out?”
“I...I don’t know...”
I froze. What would I do? I’d never been in a situation like this before, and never thought I would be. I desperately scanned my brain for what I had learnt in CPR training, trying to remember anything, but nothing came up. Just as I had suspected, my qualification in performing CPR was meaningless.
Thankfully, I saw one of my other best friends rushing towards us, and I waved her over.
“Here are my pills.” Viv huffed, shoving her hand out to reveal a packet of paracetamol. I immediately turned to Alex, who had sat back up.
“Can you take it dry?” I asked, but I already knew with a sinking feeling what the answer would be.
“Sorry, no.” Alex shook her head apologetically. “Um, I feel a little bit better, I’m just gonna lie down...”
We couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. This was the weakest I had ever seen Alex, in the entirety of the time I had known her. I had to do something. I quickly turned to Viv.
“Viv, look after Alex. I’m going to get help at the stands over there.” I decided, pointing to the fast track stands at the opposite end of the field. Viv nodded, understanding clear in her eyes.
I rolled up my overly baggy shorts and prepared to run, just like I always did. However, just before I took off, a voice interrupted me.
“Thank you, Law...”
I turned to Alex with a smile. “No problem, Ali. It’s what friends are for.” I nodded, smirking at the cheesiness of my words, before I sprinted across the field, the wind whipping through my hair as I charged towards the fence. I didn’t care that everyone was staring. I didn’t care that they were laughing, or pointing. This was a real life emergency, and I was going to save my best friend from passing out.
However, as I neared the stands, I realised that the booths were not for fast track, but instead, press and journalists, here to record the event. I suddenly came to a screeching halt. What next? I racked my brain for an idea, my eyes wandering as I thought. I suddenly noticed that one of the girls passing me was wearing one of those stupid necklaces with all the pictures of the festival line up on them, and I quickly flashed back to earlier.
“Hey, guys, d’you want a program?” A guy with spiky blonde hair wearing a neon yellow waistcoat, the type that policemen wear, approached us just as we had entered the park, waving a sort of chain with several pictures attached to it.
“Yeah, sure!” We chorused in unison.
“Oh, cool. That’ll be five pounds.” The guy smiled.
“WHAT?!?!” I yelled, my Chinese instincts immediately taking over. “FIVE POUNDS?! NO WAY! I CAN JUST LOOK UP THE BANDS FOR FREE ON THE WEBSITE!!!”
The guy opened his mouth to say something, but managed to twist his face into something that resembled the expression of somebody desperately trying not to lose it, and attempted to smile as he choked out a stiff laugh, whilst everyone else simply laughed.
The neon jackets! That was it! I could ask the festival ushers!
Spying two girls in the jackets, I raced over to them, and choked out a frantic “Where is the first aid tent?!”
The two girls looked at each other and half-giggled, whilst I, just the like the guy from earlier, desperately tried not to lose my cool. How could such frivolous minded females be laughing at what must be a serious matter if I was requesting first aid?!
“Um, uh, we don’t know. Sorry.” One of them shrugged. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could even say anything, they turned around to try and sell those rip off ‘programs’ to another bunch of innocent bystanders.
Unbelievable! I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth as I raced back to Alex and Viv, just about managing to walk away and not rip out the girls’ throats.
“What happened?” Viv asked, looking up from the ground.
“I couldn’t get any help.” I growled, my blood boiling at the thought of the girls from earlier.
“Hmmm. I think I saw some policemen earlier. Maybe they could help us?” Viv tried.
“Yeah, good idea! Let’s go try them! They’ve got to help us!” I speed-nodded as we helped Alex off the ground and put our arms around her, leading her towards the direction in which Viv said she had seen the policemen. We navigated across the field, back towards the crowd, except going around everyone and heading towards the edge of the barriers. There, we saw two police officers; one man and one woman. Without hesitating, I walked right up to them, and got down to business immediately.
“Excuse me,” I began. The officers immediately turned around. “Do you know where the first aid tent is?”
The two looked at each other, and for one deathly second, I thought it was going to be a repeat performance of what those two moronic girls had said earlier.
“I’ll go and look.” The woman decided, with a nod at the other officer. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“My friend is about to pass out.” I informed them, gesturing behind me to Alex and Viv. Something similar to shock, or perhaps concern, registered on their faces, before they quickly nodded.
“I’ll go and look right away, hold on.” The woman told me, everybody staring as she walked through the crowd and past the barriers, voices raised as they called out and questioned what was happening.
“It’s you, is it?” The man asked, turning to Alex.
“Y-Yes.” Alex nodded. “Um, I think I’m just going to sit down.” She murmured, sitting down on the edge of the pavement. I quickly sat down next to her as the policeman began running through all those predictable questions that you ask when somebody’s ill.
Finally, the policewomen returned. Before I knew what was happening, we were being led through the barriers as we flashed our tickets at the security guards, envy slapping everyone in the face as they watched us skip the mad rampage that had just begun due to the festival just opening.
We were led into a tent where we were told to wait for the nurse. Coincidentally, the rest of our group had managed to get through the barriers and met us in the tent, just as the nurse arrived. Since there were now two more of us, she told us to wait outside whilst she attended to Alex, which involved sitting in a room and asking her several questions.
“They’re gonna ask her if she’s pregnant.” Viv smirked knowingly as we watched Alex and the woman like animals at the zoo.
“What?! Oh, come on!” I spluttered. “Why would you be at a festival if you were bloody pregnant?!”
Several minutes later, Alex was finally done with her interview, and came outside as we re-entered the festival.
“I don’t know why, but they asked me if I was pregnant?!”
“See! I told you!”
“Sh-Shut up!”
Friday 5th August 2011. The Underage Festival, Victoria Park. Sometime past 10:30am.
I wasn’t really that excited. Why had I forced myself and my friends to pay £30 each for some festival in which we only wanted to see one band perform? I’d have preferred to save the money for something else, since we’d usually pay half that amount to see said band in concert by themselves, no other acts or anything.
So, there we were, standing outside the gates in the middle of the crowd, waiting to be let in. I remember huge Mexican waves rippling through the crowd as the cameras filmed all of us, everyone screaming and jumping up and down with so much excitement that I think it’s safe to say that the atmosphere was incredibly contagious, and I could feel myself getting just as anxious and hyped up as everyone around me.
And then, just as I was getting into the mood, screaming my throat raw, I heard someone next to me speak.
“Hey, um, Law, I feel a bit ill...”
“Huh?”
I turned to see my best friend of over eleven years looking unnaturally pale, her mouth tight shut in a thin line.
“Oh, okay. Let’s get out of here.” I suggested, pulling her out of the crowd, just thinking that she perhaps felt a bit ill from being smashed together in the midst of a crowd of angst-ridden teenagers. As we walked towards the middle of the field, I asked her what was wrong.
“I-I don’t know, Law. I think...I think I’m going to faint...”
“Wh...What?!”
I hadn’t meant to, but I immediately panicked. I was used to Alex sometimes getting a little bit ill from time to time, but even after eleven years, this was definitely something new to me. I couldn’t even stop myself from blurting out or attempting to stop myself from making Alex panic. I had to know what was going on.
“Ha-Has this happened before?!”
“Y-Yeah...”
“When?!”
“Back around in September. When I was in school...I fainted...”
“Oh...”
I felt a slight pang when she said that. Another thing I’d missed out on due to moving schools after year eight. It was hard enough already that we only saw each other at a minimum of once a month, even though we only lived five minutes away from each other.
I quickly shook my head. Focus!
“Hey, stop. Sit down.” I instructed, suddenly stopping. Alex did as she was told. “Do you feel better when you do that?”
“Um, yeah, a little bit.” Alex replied feebly, struggling to keep her eyes open as she lowered her back. “I think I’m just gonna lie down, I feel really-“
“No, stop.” I interrupted. “Lie down on my lap. Don’t lie down on the grass.” I sat down next to Alex and folded my legs as I pulled her head onto my lap.
“No, Law, it’s okay, I just need a paracetamol and I’ll be fine, I just...” Alex attempted to protest, but she looked like she was getting weaker by the second.
“Stop it. Just close your eyes and relax.” I ordered. Alex immediately quietened down and relaxed her head, her breathing getting steeper. As I looked up at the clear blue sky, I wondered what we looked like to everyone around us. To them, we probably just looked like two girls relaxing in the middle of a park. To me, I was seconds away from watching my friend pass out and having no idea what to do.
“Hey, um, Alex...” I suddenly spoke, interrupting the silence.
“Yeah?” Alex murmured, her eyes fluttering open as she attempted to get back up. I immediately told her to stop.
“What do I...what do I do if you pass out?”
“I...I don’t know...”
I froze. What would I do? I’d never been in a situation like this before, and never thought I would be. I desperately scanned my brain for what I had learnt in CPR training, trying to remember anything, but nothing came up. Just as I had suspected, my qualification in performing CPR was meaningless.
Thankfully, I saw one of my other best friends rushing towards us, and I waved her over.
“Here are my pills.” Viv huffed, shoving her hand out to reveal a packet of paracetamol. I immediately turned to Alex, who had sat back up.
“Can you take it dry?” I asked, but I already knew with a sinking feeling what the answer would be.
“Sorry, no.” Alex shook her head apologetically. “Um, I feel a little bit better, I’m just gonna lie down...”
We couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. This was the weakest I had ever seen Alex, in the entirety of the time I had known her. I had to do something. I quickly turned to Viv.
“Viv, look after Alex. I’m going to get help at the stands over there.” I decided, pointing to the fast track stands at the opposite end of the field. Viv nodded, understanding clear in her eyes.
I rolled up my overly baggy shorts and prepared to run, just like I always did. However, just before I took off, a voice interrupted me.
“Thank you, Law...”
I turned to Alex with a smile. “No problem, Ali. It’s what friends are for.” I nodded, smirking at the cheesiness of my words, before I sprinted across the field, the wind whipping through my hair as I charged towards the fence. I didn’t care that everyone was staring. I didn’t care that they were laughing, or pointing. This was a real life emergency, and I was going to save my best friend from passing out.
However, as I neared the stands, I realised that the booths were not for fast track, but instead, press and journalists, here to record the event. I suddenly came to a screeching halt. What next? I racked my brain for an idea, my eyes wandering as I thought. I suddenly noticed that one of the girls passing me was wearing one of those stupid necklaces with all the pictures of the festival line up on them, and I quickly flashed back to earlier.
“Hey, guys, d’you want a program?” A guy with spiky blonde hair wearing a neon yellow waistcoat, the type that policemen wear, approached us just as we had entered the park, waving a sort of chain with several pictures attached to it.
“Yeah, sure!” We chorused in unison.
“Oh, cool. That’ll be five pounds.” The guy smiled.
“WHAT?!?!” I yelled, my Chinese instincts immediately taking over. “FIVE POUNDS?! NO WAY! I CAN JUST LOOK UP THE BANDS FOR FREE ON THE WEBSITE!!!”
The guy opened his mouth to say something, but managed to twist his face into something that resembled the expression of somebody desperately trying not to lose it, and attempted to smile as he choked out a stiff laugh, whilst everyone else simply laughed.
The neon jackets! That was it! I could ask the festival ushers!
Spying two girls in the jackets, I raced over to them, and choked out a frantic “Where is the first aid tent?!”
The two girls looked at each other and half-giggled, whilst I, just the like the guy from earlier, desperately tried not to lose my cool. How could such frivolous minded females be laughing at what must be a serious matter if I was requesting first aid?!
“Um, uh, we don’t know. Sorry.” One of them shrugged. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could even say anything, they turned around to try and sell those rip off ‘programs’ to another bunch of innocent bystanders.
Unbelievable! I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth as I raced back to Alex and Viv, just about managing to walk away and not rip out the girls’ throats.
“What happened?” Viv asked, looking up from the ground.
“I couldn’t get any help.” I growled, my blood boiling at the thought of the girls from earlier.
“Hmmm. I think I saw some policemen earlier. Maybe they could help us?” Viv tried.
“Yeah, good idea! Let’s go try them! They’ve got to help us!” I speed-nodded as we helped Alex off the ground and put our arms around her, leading her towards the direction in which Viv said she had seen the policemen. We navigated across the field, back towards the crowd, except going around everyone and heading towards the edge of the barriers. There, we saw two police officers; one man and one woman. Without hesitating, I walked right up to them, and got down to business immediately.
“Excuse me,” I began. The officers immediately turned around. “Do you know where the first aid tent is?”
The two looked at each other, and for one deathly second, I thought it was going to be a repeat performance of what those two moronic girls had said earlier.
“I’ll go and look.” The woman decided, with a nod at the other officer. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“My friend is about to pass out.” I informed them, gesturing behind me to Alex and Viv. Something similar to shock, or perhaps concern, registered on their faces, before they quickly nodded.
“I’ll go and look right away, hold on.” The woman told me, everybody staring as she walked through the crowd and past the barriers, voices raised as they called out and questioned what was happening.
“It’s you, is it?” The man asked, turning to Alex.
“Y-Yes.” Alex nodded. “Um, I think I’m just going to sit down.” She murmured, sitting down on the edge of the pavement. I quickly sat down next to her as the policeman began running through all those predictable questions that you ask when somebody’s ill.
Finally, the policewomen returned. Before I knew what was happening, we were being led through the barriers as we flashed our tickets at the security guards, envy slapping everyone in the face as they watched us skip the mad rampage that had just begun due to the festival just opening.
We were led into a tent where we were told to wait for the nurse. Coincidentally, the rest of our group had managed to get through the barriers and met us in the tent, just as the nurse arrived. Since there were now two more of us, she told us to wait outside whilst she attended to Alex, which involved sitting in a room and asking her several questions.
“They’re gonna ask her if she’s pregnant.” Viv smirked knowingly as we watched Alex and the woman like animals at the zoo.
“What?! Oh, come on!” I spluttered. “Why would you be at a festival if you were bloody pregnant?!”
Several minutes later, Alex was finally done with her interview, and came outside as we re-entered the festival.
“I don’t know why, but they asked me if I was pregnant?!”
“See! I told you!”
“Sh-Shut up!”
Marissa Lotte
Backstory: Anyone from Castform recognise the name? We had been doing work on some London Underground fiction based on the number of seats per train, and were told to create a creative writing piece using the character we had created in the lesson. Guess I just re-used a character that was knocking around in my noggin.
Also, for those who may be interested, I have mentioned some people based on their characters from the Castform Academy RP:
Jone (Joe) - @The Anonymous
LaLa (LeeLee) - @Fwee~
Lucy/Tempest - GoldenrodGirl
Kris (Chris) - @Stellar Haze
Danny (Dante (Yes, I know she is female, but Danny sounds similar)) - @Uu-winchi... On!
I have permission from @Ma†erialGirl McQüeen to use Stacy Lewis, for those who may be wondering.
Marissa Lotte
London Underground
Marissa Lotte sighed as she climbed aboard the train. It was a complicated sigh, conveying three different emotions. Part of it conveyed happiness, for she was in London-one of the greatest cities in the world. But part of it conveyed sadness, for she had no money nor any family to help her with her crisis. And the final part of the sigh conveyed tiredness-for she was tired of running round in the never-ending circle of her money troubles.
After so many years of working hard at her job as a translator from French to English and back by day and closet artist by night, Marissa finally realised that she was getting nowhere. She was doing the same thing every day and night, right down to every single second. So she thought she’d be smart and take the easy way out.
By cheating.
When it comes to big dreams, I guess you could say it was fair that poor Marissa finally gave in and took a different route to get there after so many years of frustration and getting nowhere in life. But it didn’t mean she didn’t have to accept responsibility for her actions when things went wrong.
Too bad things went wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
You see, Marissa wasn’t like most artists who specialised in either drawing, painting, sculpting or photography. No, her speciality was the art of forgery.
At the time, Marissa was convinced that mastering the art of forgery was the best thing that she’d ever done. After all, what was the use of the usual forms of art such as statues and paintings and arranged objects when all it could do was sit there and maybe once a decade be bought for a ridiculously large sum of money whereas forgery could win you any ambition within seconds of the ink drying on your ‘award’ or ‘certificate’ stating you were certified of whatever had been replicated?
But then her whole plan of forging every single accomplishment to get absolutely amazingly-well paid jobs that was actually going fantastically had to fall through a few years later when a few of the new students at the extremely prestigious and exclusive school she had been teaching at discovered what she had done, which, technically speaking, was more of what she had not done, such as she had not actually gone to one of the greatest art colleges in the world, didn’t have a PhD in anything so she wasn’t actually a doctor (Marissa had somehow gotten everybody to call her Dr. Lotte) and hadn’t even finished school as she had left when she was fifteen when she ran away from home.
‘The little brats’, Marissa narrowed her eyes at the thought of the five stupid teenagers that had ruined everything. What were their names again? Jone, LaLa, Lucy, Kris and Danny? Something like that. Whatever, they were all the same-rich, spoilt, ungrateful adolescents that had nothing better to do with their time, so they took it out and uncovered the truth about poor, defenceless teachers. And now, because of them, here Marissa was, sitting on a humid, smelly train to audition for-zut alors! an extremely tacky and extremely degradable modelling competition that would be shown on TV at the 02 arena.
When she was younger, in her teenage years, Marissa had entered several beauty pageants, but despite her liquid silver eyes, striking looks, naturally blood-red pouting lips and size zero waistline, she had been won barely any of the pageants. At first, it was quite a mystery as to why. She had completely destroyed the competition, all models would cower in fear whenever Marissa Lotte walked past. But it was her height of a mere 5ft that caused all the losses. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had to gain the worst rival of all-Stacy Lewis.
Even thinking of her ultimate arch-nemesis made Marissa hiss out loud, causing the people around her to edge away and give her strange looks. Not only because Stacy had always won the pageants Marissa had lost (Stacy was tall, blonde and pretty-everything Marissa would never be), but because Stacy had helped the students uncover the truth about Marissa.
Although they were fierce rivals in a seriously unfriendly fashion, Marissa had always sort assumed that deep down, they were sort of friends. Friends that only showed they had a friendship when something life-threatening happened to one of them. But no. Stacy had to go and ruin her life and could have put Marissa in prison with a massive fine so huge that it would put her grandchildren’s children in debt if she hadn’t been so quick-thinking and left immediately the next day. Fortunately, Stacy and the other students hadn’t actually told the headmistress of the academy. At least, Marissa assumed they hadn’t as she hadn’t been contacted by the police and it had been over four months since she’d left. But still, the threat was left hanging in the air and any one of those five teenagers or Stacy could decide to destroy her anytime they wished.
So here Marissa was. Desperate. Flat-out broke. Jobless and practically homeless (She didn’t count her tiny one bedroom flat above the Chinese grocery store as a proper home). This modelling competition-Supermodel Unmasked-was her last shot at ultimate, proper success. Success that she had actually earned, not forged. Maybe it would set off a whole new life change of earning everything from now on.
Marissa suddenly jolted back to reality as the speaker announced the train would soon be arriving at the 02 Arena. She picked up her handbag and made her way over to the door when something-or someone, rather, captured her attention.
A small, athletic-looking girl was curled up on the side of the train next to the window, a mass of wild, uncut, strawberry-blonde hair whipping in the wind covering her face until she turned around.
And that was when Marissa recognised LaLa-one of the students that had discovered the truth.
LaLa frowned in confusion, before she sat up properly and smiled happily at Marissa and even gave her a wave. Marissa suddenly felt her throat close up, and quickly glanced away, only to discover that thanks to all the sudden panic of seeing LaLa, the doors to train had just closed and she had just missed her stop by a few seconds.
London Underground
Marissa Lotte sighed as she climbed aboard the train. It was a complicated sigh, conveying three different emotions. Part of it conveyed happiness, for she was in London-one of the greatest cities in the world. But part of it conveyed sadness, for she had no money nor any family to help her with her crisis. And the final part of the sigh conveyed tiredness-for she was tired of running round in the never-ending circle of her money troubles.
After so many years of working hard at her job as a translator from French to English and back by day and closet artist by night, Marissa finally realised that she was getting nowhere. She was doing the same thing every day and night, right down to every single second. So she thought she’d be smart and take the easy way out.
By cheating.
When it comes to big dreams, I guess you could say it was fair that poor Marissa finally gave in and took a different route to get there after so many years of frustration and getting nowhere in life. But it didn’t mean she didn’t have to accept responsibility for her actions when things went wrong.
Too bad things went wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
You see, Marissa wasn’t like most artists who specialised in either drawing, painting, sculpting or photography. No, her speciality was the art of forgery.
At the time, Marissa was convinced that mastering the art of forgery was the best thing that she’d ever done. After all, what was the use of the usual forms of art such as statues and paintings and arranged objects when all it could do was sit there and maybe once a decade be bought for a ridiculously large sum of money whereas forgery could win you any ambition within seconds of the ink drying on your ‘award’ or ‘certificate’ stating you were certified of whatever had been replicated?
But then her whole plan of forging every single accomplishment to get absolutely amazingly-well paid jobs that was actually going fantastically had to fall through a few years later when a few of the new students at the extremely prestigious and exclusive school she had been teaching at discovered what she had done, which, technically speaking, was more of what she had not done, such as she had not actually gone to one of the greatest art colleges in the world, didn’t have a PhD in anything so she wasn’t actually a doctor (Marissa had somehow gotten everybody to call her Dr. Lotte) and hadn’t even finished school as she had left when she was fifteen when she ran away from home.
‘The little brats’, Marissa narrowed her eyes at the thought of the five stupid teenagers that had ruined everything. What were their names again? Jone, LaLa, Lucy, Kris and Danny? Something like that. Whatever, they were all the same-rich, spoilt, ungrateful adolescents that had nothing better to do with their time, so they took it out and uncovered the truth about poor, defenceless teachers. And now, because of them, here Marissa was, sitting on a humid, smelly train to audition for-zut alors! an extremely tacky and extremely degradable modelling competition that would be shown on TV at the 02 arena.
When she was younger, in her teenage years, Marissa had entered several beauty pageants, but despite her liquid silver eyes, striking looks, naturally blood-red pouting lips and size zero waistline, she had been won barely any of the pageants. At first, it was quite a mystery as to why. She had completely destroyed the competition, all models would cower in fear whenever Marissa Lotte walked past. But it was her height of a mere 5ft that caused all the losses. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had to gain the worst rival of all-Stacy Lewis.
Even thinking of her ultimate arch-nemesis made Marissa hiss out loud, causing the people around her to edge away and give her strange looks. Not only because Stacy had always won the pageants Marissa had lost (Stacy was tall, blonde and pretty-everything Marissa would never be), but because Stacy had helped the students uncover the truth about Marissa.
Although they were fierce rivals in a seriously unfriendly fashion, Marissa had always sort assumed that deep down, they were sort of friends. Friends that only showed they had a friendship when something life-threatening happened to one of them. But no. Stacy had to go and ruin her life and could have put Marissa in prison with a massive fine so huge that it would put her grandchildren’s children in debt if she hadn’t been so quick-thinking and left immediately the next day. Fortunately, Stacy and the other students hadn’t actually told the headmistress of the academy. At least, Marissa assumed they hadn’t as she hadn’t been contacted by the police and it had been over four months since she’d left. But still, the threat was left hanging in the air and any one of those five teenagers or Stacy could decide to destroy her anytime they wished.
So here Marissa was. Desperate. Flat-out broke. Jobless and practically homeless (She didn’t count her tiny one bedroom flat above the Chinese grocery store as a proper home). This modelling competition-Supermodel Unmasked-was her last shot at ultimate, proper success. Success that she had actually earned, not forged. Maybe it would set off a whole new life change of earning everything from now on.
Marissa suddenly jolted back to reality as the speaker announced the train would soon be arriving at the 02 Arena. She picked up her handbag and made her way over to the door when something-or someone, rather, captured her attention.
A small, athletic-looking girl was curled up on the side of the train next to the window, a mass of wild, uncut, strawberry-blonde hair whipping in the wind covering her face until she turned around.
And that was when Marissa recognised LaLa-one of the students that had discovered the truth.
LaLa frowned in confusion, before she sat up properly and smiled happily at Marissa and even gave her a wave. Marissa suddenly felt her throat close up, and quickly glanced away, only to discover that thanks to all the sudden panic of seeing LaLa, the doors to train had just closed and she had just missed her stop by a few seconds.
So, there we have it! Please vote in the poll before Monday 12th March (coursework deadline), and thank you for reading!
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). But that was like my second twenty. I got twenty for descriptive writing. Then the other one I got 18 so still all A* coursework and now my spoken Language writing got me a fucking 15 (1 mark of an A the fucking prick). My English teacher for the last year and a half ditched us after half term so when we did this one I got 15 O.O
