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Introduction

This Anthology was created with the intention of demonstrating the

universal theme of the journey through life. The first section comprises a

selection of poems written around the theme of childhood. This style of

writing was chosen because we felt that it most closely reflected this

period of life. Certain poetic forms can better communicate the lyricism

and creativity of the childish mind better than prose, which could not

represent that age without sacrificing its sophistication.

Prose we reserved for adult life, where complex turns of phrase are

most appropriate, and a prosaic form best represents the ‘dullness’ of

post-adolescent life. The teenage period of life we chose to explore using

script, given the dramatic, theatrical overtones that puberty has, and the

melodramas that teenagers indulge in. The use of script also led the focus

to be on the awkwardness of adolescent speech and communication,

which we considered the most significant aspect to concentrate on.

This structure of three parts to life enables us to cover the theme of

growing into maturity in its entirety, with only a few short pieces, while

retaining a cohesive feel to the anthology as a whole. The result is a

collection of writing that represents not one person, but many.

Cover illustration by Scarlet Judkins

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I want a dog

I want a dog,

But mummy said no.

I want a dog,

But daddy said no.

“I promise I’ll look after it,” I said,

But they both said NO!

I will take him for a walk,

And teach him how to talk.

I will make sure he’s clean,

I can assure you I’m keen.

I will wash him and clean him,

And I’ll take him for a trim.

I have saved up my money,

But mum says ‘That’s funny’.

I will buy him special clothes to wear,

Like a very cuddly teddy bear.

I will buy him lots of doggy treats,

And make him fat with extra food to eat.

I want a dog that will love me,

I want a dog that will be there for me,

A dog that will stand by me,

Forever.

Bethan Wheeler

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A Brief Pause

Take me to the Bakery on Walnut Road,

Jam Tarts red and yellow.

Yellow is best if you can get it;

it’s rarer.

A treat on Monday when Nanny collects you

Swapping hands from hot to cold.

Swim your way across green carpet

to Crème Caramel

Jelly on a plate.

Harriet Fox

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Learning to Ride a Bike Stabilisers removed, on two wheels from four.

Dad shouts to pedal hard, my feet leave the floor.

Faster I ride. Harder I push.

Then Dad lets go, and I fall into a bush.

'You let go!' I shout.

Tears begin to flood.

I scramble to my feet, covered head to toe in mud.

Dad laughs aloud and lets out a sigh.

'I'll never learn to ride a bike!'

Sobbing, I continue to cry.

Kayleigh Howes

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The Epic Poem of Matthew

Behold! I am the mightiest warrior Known as Matthew, son of Dad Conqueror of all others Bane of invisible zombies My enemies fear my wrath For I can wield a Nerf N-Strike! There is nothing I cannot do I am a cowboy astronaut I have won tournaments Of Football, and Death My strength is legendary I can lift even my older brother I have climbed mountains And leapt over the lava floor No man has ever breached The walls of my pillow fort Yet though I am clearly the best of all I can never conquer my greatest foe The evil, the powerful, the very worst The monster that is homework!

Jack Basson

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Sonnet for a Teacher Mrs Smith stands at the front of the class, Waving good morning as we take our seats. She always smiles at me as I walk past, And chooses me to hand around the sheets. I’m going to marry Mrs Smith one day, And we will live together in a house. Where we can eat ice cream all day and play, As a pet we will take the classroom mouse. When I told my mum she said it was cute, Which I think must mean she gives her blessing. She even suggested I buy a suit! But my dad said she was only messing. I don’t care what others say about me, Mrs Smith and I are going to be.

Laura Charles

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MISUNDERSTANDING

Bethan Wheeler Charlotte

Harriet Fox Marcus

Kayleigh Howes Lizzie

Laura Charles Sam

Jack Basson Felix

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CHARACTERS

SAM Girlfriend of FELIX. Cares for her little

brother.

FELIX Boyfriend of SAM. Clingy towards SAM.

CHARLOTTE Supports SAM. Strong minded.

LIZZIE Supports FELIX. Gossip.

MARCUS Neutral. More concerned with own problems.

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SETTING

The courtyard of a secondary school in South East

England.

TIME

The end of a school day. The Present.

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ACT I, SCENE 1

(A courtyard of a secondary school at the end of a school

day. FELIX sits alone on a bench. His girlfriend SAM is

approaching. Felix doesn’t see Sam coming. Sam sits next

to him.)

FELIX

Hey.

SAM

Hey Felix.

FELIX

Looking forward to the party tonight, Sam? It’s

gonna be amazing. Can’t wait to see everyone.

SAM

(Beat)

Yeah. I feel like I haven’t seen Katie in ages.

FELIX

Well, you haven’t seen me either.

SAM

What do you mean, I saw you yesterday.

FELIX

For like 5 seconds.

SAM

Felix I did see you, and it was about an hour. I

know it wasn’t long but I did see you.

FELIX

Sam, I’m not trying to be petty, I just wish we

could hang out, more, like just us two?

SAM

Yeah. But, we have. We do. We always do.

FELIX

No we don’t. There’s last week…

SAM

Felix, are you still on about me cancelling?

Look, I’ve told you I’m sorry. I had to look

after my little brother.

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FELIX

This isn’t just about your brother Sam, it’s

about all of the times you’ve cancelled.

Enter MARCUS.

MARCUS

Hey guys.

(He receives no response)

Guys? Is everything ok?

SAM

Yeah.

(Beat)

Everything’s fine thanks Marky. Still coming to

Katie’s party later?

MARCUS

Yeah, course. How you guys getting there? You

going together?

FELIX

Yeah, we always do… why?

MARCUS

Just wondering that’s all.

(Pause)

Guys, seriously, what’s wrong?

FELIX

Honestly, nothing. Have you seen Charlotte and

Lizzie?

MARCUS

Yeah, about 10 minutes ago, coming out of the

library. They should be here soon.

SAM

Oh, speak of the devils, they’re here.

(smiles at Charlotte and Lizzie)

Enter CHARLOTTE and LIZZIE.

CHARLOTTE

Hey gang. You all best be going to Katie’s

later. It’s gunna be epic!

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MARCUS

Definitely.

CHARLOTTE

Great stuff. Sam? Felix?

FELIX

Yeah, we’re going.

CHARLOTTE

What’s wrong with you guys?

SAM

Nothing, we’re fine.

CHARLOTTE

Are you sure?

LIZZIE

Charlotte, leave it.

MARCUS

Seriously, what is going on? Why am I always

the last to know about everything?

SAM

Nothing is going on! Look, all that happened

was that Felix and I couldn't go to the cinema

because I had to look after my brother. That's

it. Now can we talk about something else

please?

FELIX

What she means is that she prefers to spend

time with her brother more than me and because

of that, we haven’t actually spent time with

each other properly in like a month.

(Blackout.)

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ACT 1, SCENE 2

(Lights up. SAM is centre stage.)

SAM

I really can’t believe Felix sometimes, I mean like, just

because I couldn’t meet up to go to the cinema with him

the other day. I had to look after my little brother, I

told him that. And yeah I know it was last minute, but I

wasn’t to know my mum would be called into work. It’s not

like we can turn down extra cash. Anyway, I had to look

after my brother, so I phoned Felix straight away to tell

him. Granted it was half an hour before we were supposed

to meet, but it was as soon as I knew. You see Connor,

that’s my little brother; he’s got a cold and so had to

be looked after, not to mention he’s seven! After Felix

tried to name some people that I could in his words ‘fob

him off on’ he then went on to suggest that we take him

to the park. Connor has a cold for crying out loud. I

mean I guess I can see where Felix is coming from, I

understand why he might be a bit annoyed about cancelling

the plans, but he was never like this before we started

going out. It’s not like I’ve only just started

babysitting my little brother, I’ve probably put Connor

to bed more times than Dad has. I didn’t think Felix

would change this much after I agreed to go out with him.

I mean sure I knew our relationship would change, I’m not

stupid, but I’m not sure if I like the change. We were

always so close as friends, and now I feel like we are

drifting away from each other a bit.

(Blackout.)

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ACT1, SCENE 3

(Lights up. FELIX is centre stage.)

FELIX

I'm serious, you know, when I say it's not about last

weekend. It's not even about the cancelling in general,

really. I mean, I know there are reasons for it, so it's

only sensible to accept it and deal with it, right? I get

it, I do. What this is really about is whether or not Sam

really wants to be going out or not, 'cause I can't tell

anymore. With anyone, even, not just me. Don't get me

wrong, I don't think she fancies anyone else, but I don't

believe she fancies me, either. If she does... She could

make a bit more of an effort, I guess. It's just that I'm

always the one setting up dates, and she always blocks my

suggestions to get around whatever problem is preventing

them. It wouldn't be so difficult if she would try to

tell her parents I'm not interested in knocking her up or

anything creepy like that, but she doesn't think it's

worth a try, so there goes any chance of sleeping over.

It'd be nice to have some advance notice, too. This one

time I went to see a rom-com alone, 'cause she only

texted like twenty minutes before it was on. I had two

tickets and everything. That was the most awkward thing I

have ever lived through, I swear, but two boxes of

popcorn made up for it, kinda. The point is, I'm doing

all the relationship-things. If she doesn't want to be in

one, that's okay with me, it really is. I just wish she'd

say so, so that I can stop being stood up all the time.

But I'm afraid if I ask her about it in those words, I'll

be right...

(Blackout.)

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ACT1, SCENE 4

(Lights up. CHARLOTTE is centre stage.)

CHARLOTTE

Seriously? Felix needs to give Sam a break! He does have

a point that Sam is with her little brother all of the

time, but he knows all of the difficulties that she has

with her little brother and she can’t help that. Of

course she wants to have a life and go to the cinema and

hang with her friends but she loves her little brother

more than anything and will always put him first. And she

can’t even hang with her friends anymore because Felix

wants her all to himself. I miss her. We used to go out

all of the time by ourselves and with everyone but we

can’t even do that anymore. But I do accept that when her

brother needs her, she needs to stay with him. And who

can blame her for that?

I just don’t understand why Felix is being so clingy.

He’s been clingy from the very start of the relationship

and the others can’t even see that. I don’t even know

where Lizzie is coming from, she thinks that Sam is

ignoring Felix but that’s just rubbish. Sam isn’t

ignoring Felix, it’s just that he literally wants to be

with her all of the time, texts her all of the time and

wants to know where she is, what she is doing and why all

of the bloody time. Felix is an awesome friend but a very

difficult boyfriend and the poor girl needs a break. But

he just can’t see that.

(Blackout.)

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ACT1, SCENE 5

(Lights up. CHARLOTTE is centre stage.)

LIZZIE

I don't understand why Sam won't spend time with Felix!

He's such an amazing guy, seriously! If he was my

boyfriend, I wouldn't spend even a minute away from him.

Why can't Sam see how great he is? To be honest, I think

it's mainly Marcus's fault. I mean, I've seen the way she

looks at him. She blanks Felix whenever Marcus is around.

She's even got a stupid little pet name for him!

(Sarcastically) 'Hi Marky', urgh...she calls him that all

the time, it's so annoying! (Sighs) Yeah, Marcus is

pretty hot, but still, he's not a patch on Felix.

I know Sam still likes Felix a lot, like, she wouldn't be

his girlfriend if she didn't, and she's supposed to be my

best friend, but...(pauses for a second) I wish she would

just snap out of this petty crush on Marcus! I think Sam

has even started to lie to Felix about what she's doing

when they aren't together! (In a high mocking tone) 'I

had to look after my brother'...yeah right!!! I promised

I wouldn't tell, but someone told me that Sam had ditched

Felix to spend time with Marcus! What the hell?! I would

never do anything like that, ever! I feel so bad for

Felix, he hasn't got a clue what's going on. I really

want to tell him the truth, but I can't. Sam would kill

me, and it would totally ruin our friendship group!

(Blackout.)

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ACT1, SCENE 6

(Lights up. MARCUS is centre stage.)

MARCUS

I knew this would happen. I held my tongue time and time

again and now... Who can be bothered with relationships,

who has the time? Y’know , sometimes I feel like the only

one here who has more important things to think about.

It’s just like mum was saying; now is the time for

thinking about my future. Having meaningless

relationships isn’t the priority... It’s hard not to get

involved though. Felix has been my friend since the first

day of year seven and Sam is great, really great in fact,

I know but... It’s just bought out the worst in both of

them.

Not to mention as usual I’m left out of the loop. And

why? Do they like me less? Do they think I can’t be

trusted? O I don’t even care anymore! They can do

whatever they want, they’re children and I don’t want to

be involved in their silly games. It’s like they’re all

letting this relationship het in the way of what’s really

important. Felix hasn’t been applying himself to his work

in ages and the girls don’t seem to talk about anything

else. I won’t let it get in my way though. I’m not

stupid. It’s just like mum says; I’ll be employing them

to work for me later in life.

(Blackout.)

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Finding Motivation

Motivation is something that doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m sure

that is the case for most students, but for some reason, I lack it entirely.

Just taking a glance at my waste paper basket will demonstrate this. It’s

full to the brim and overflowing. Balled pieces of paper spill across the

carpet, each with a single word or an incomplete sentence. Rubbish. I kick

off from my desk and do a single spin on my office chair. The dull image of

my bedroom flashes before my eyes, a gloomy vortex which makes me

slightly nauseated. I notice my cluttered desk, unmade bed and the heap of

dirty laundry that is piled high in the corner, still waiting to be washed. I

sigh heavily, thinking about the hopelessness of my situation. I can’t even

find the motivation to wash my clothes, let alone write an entire essay. I

hunch over the disorderly work space, letting my head hit the wooden

surface with a thump. The point of impact on my forehead started to throb.

Maybe a little sleep will help me feel better? I could wake up feeling

refreshed and then make a start on my task. I always use this suggestion,

knowing full well that when I wake up it will be too late to get started.

‘There’s always tomorrow’, is another thing that I constantly repeat to

myself. The idea of another day ahead of me is always a reassuring thing,

but then again, today is one tomorrow less already. Somehow I always

manage to spend more time thinking about doing my essays than I actually

do writing them. Then the realisation started to sink in. If I just stop trying

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to think of excuses to put off my writing, and just get on with it, then I may

actually finish it. Motivation has surfaced in my head, finally. I light a

cigarette to help me concentrate, scrape away the clutter from my desk

and grab the nearest pen. I will get this done.

Kayleigh Howes

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Playing House

This morning the state of the kitchen has forced me to a new low.

Simply lacking in time to deal with the practically swaying piles of dirty

dishes; my breakfast consists of toast, buttered using the back of my last

clean teaspoon and served on an ‘improvised plate’, also known as a

chopping board.

Admittedly, we will soon have reached the point of no return. The

surfaces have become, what I can only describe as… crispy, and I am

beginning to feel personally offended by the presence of a rogue jam

covered knife of which no one is willing to admit ownership. It has been

sitting upon the draining board since our second week of living here. I

place the empty carton of spread on top of the overflowing bin; I am not

the first to have done so this morning.

Deciding that I will be at less risk of contracting some kind of life

threatening disease if I actually consume the food elsewhere, I suppress

my wretches and push past the leaking rubbish bags piled high by the

door. Careful not to drop my precariously balanced haul I make my way

into my, not spotless, but hopefully salmonella free bedroom.

It is difficult to remember just exactly how we managed to get to such a

low point. It had all started so well, a little bit like playing house in the

school playground. Oh what novelty there was to be found in mopping and

dusting. I almost considered purchasing an apron at one point. However,

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as time passes on and the realisation that you have to spend your evening

attempting to scrub dried out spaghetti from a colander begins to set in,

the whole business loses its charm rather quickly. In other words; playing

house is a lot more fun than living it.

As I nibble rather despondently at my toast, I consider that the state of

the kitchen is nothing when you think about the concoctions we produce

in it. Since living here I have witnessed the combination of Pizza topped

with baked beans and have myself sunk so low as to consider cheese,

partially melted onto a slice of toast in the microwave, a hearty meal. I had

such assumptions of what my life away from home would be. I envisaged

myself inviting friends around and cooking for them in the manner of

some sort of domestic goddess. As it is I will only allow people in if I’m left

with absolutely no other choice, and find that all I can do is apologise, red

faced, for the mess and hope that they will leave as soon as is humanly

possible.

The time has come to be pro-active. I can’t possibly allow this

malignant mess to interfere with my social life any longer, today I must

pick up the bottle of Cif and conquer all my fears. I grab my empty

chopping board and confidently make my way back into the kitchen, then

stop. The dishes still sway and the bin still bulges and here I stand in a

state of total apathy. I put down the chopping board and get my coat.

Harriet Fox

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Fragmented Thoughts

It didn't make enough sense.

Mark gazed at the TV screen, his face expressionless. The news told

him to care that a celebrity whose name he did not recognise had lost

weight. Yesterday he'd been supposed to care about the irrational

convictions of a far-right councilman and tomorrow, he supposed, he

would be asked to care about a politician's extramarital affair.

Mark walked to the bus stop, hands in pockets, his gaze never

leaving the ground. His thoughts came slowly, and in pieces, like the

shards of a shattered sculpture. They said 'this all seems so pointless' and

'maybe it's not supposed to have one' and 'what's the use of cynicism if it

presents no alternative?' He gathered them in his head and the fractured

whole of them together said 'there is no voice for your soul here.'

Mark sat in the bus and tried to stop hearing anything. People used

to believe the world would just keep getting better, because man was more

good than bad. That stopped a century ago with the First World War. If

that wasn't true, then was this all there was? Was this the apex, the peak,

the crown of human culture? Or was it all slowly falling?

Mark sat in the corner of the campus cafeteria, sipping coffee. He

would admit it freely to anyone - he dwelled. He pondered things - always

negatively - for an age, and the worst part was the awareness of it. He

could see himself, feel himself being dragged into frustration, over such

tiny things. Were they tiny? (There, the doubt again. Always doubt!)

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Painful thoughts, painful awareness, painful doubt. That just about

summed it up, he thought.

Two weeks ago, Mark had started researching psychology, because

he wanted to understand people. That hadn't worked. However, he had

come to understand one thing from that investigation. His sadness.

Depression isn't just a misery, he told his friends. It's a perpetual

misery, pathos deep enough to drain you of your energy, to stop you

eating, to make you bitter, to give you nightmares when you found the

little sleep you could. It's like drinking dust with every breath, it's like

walking on broken glass, it's like wearing hot ashes. It kills you slowly and

you just want to stop.

"Cheer up!"

"Just be happy!"

"Get over it!"

He kept it to himself after that.

Was he depressed because of the world he lived in, or did the world

seem so bleak because he was depressed? Was he irrational, or the only

sane person he knew? The thoughts sparked and scattered about in a mind

he was convinced was broken. He could link nothing with anything and

thought came only in fragments. He was lost. So were his words to say so

with.

The world, or rather, the people in it, made no sense at all.

It made as much sense as it ever did. Jack Basson

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The Wedding

I falsely laughed at Dan as the crowd roared with laughter at his

terrible jokes. I felt nothing. I didn’t know how to feel at that moment.

What had just happened? I just got married to a man that I didn’t love the

way that he loved me.

Dan was perfect. He was kind, loving, funny and would always put

others first. My mother loved him, my sisters loved him, my little brother

adored him and I think my own father liked him better than me. My dad’s

face said it all. He was a proud and happy man.

Disguising pain is hard. I never knew how hard it would be. When I was

young, if I was sad, I would immediately forge a smile, then laughter would

follow and then everything would be ok. But now, in front of all these

people. I can’t.

I looked up and my mum caught my eye. She smiled at me, but I

couldn’t smile back. I then jerked at Dan gently holding my hand. The look

that he gave made me feel for a second that everything is going to be ok. I

couldn’t do this to him.

I looked around at everyone’s faces. Their laughter and smiles said it

all. It was a perfect wedding, in a perfect location, with perfect people, and

with a perfect man. But I just couldn’t do this to everyone. I suddenly

stood up, everyone was cheering, and clapping and Dan was just smiling.

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My hands were sweating and shaking and I began to watch everyone’s

smiles slowly break at no sight of mine.

I said, ‘Urm… Thank you… all for… coming. It means… a lot, and I mean

a lot. I’m just going to come out with it. Me and Dan have been together for

a long time, a very long time, in fact we were just children when we started

liking each other. And at 11 years old, when you move to a new house and

find a gorgeous boy living next door, everything seems like it is going to be

ok. For the past 15 years, we’ve been through so much and I literally can’t

imagine life without you… but… I can’t do this. Dan, I love you so much.

You’re like a brother to me. And you know that. Look, I know what you’re

all thinking, that this is typical and we’ve spent so much on the wedding

and why didn’t I decide it earlier but I honestly thought everything was

going to be ok. I told myself it would be. Dan, you are perfect. You are kind,

loving, funny and you always put others first. And you will make an

absolutely amazing husband. I’ve heard stories of people being with

someone for too long before they get married and they can’t love each

other in the way that a husband and wife should. I guess today has been

sort of a celebration of our 15 years together but I just can’t go on like this

anymore. I’m really sorry. I do love you Dan, but I just want you to find

someone and marry them straight away. Don’t wait around like we did.’

I sat back down. Silent. I had never felt so many emotions in one

moment. I couldn’t look at mum or dad, let alone Dan. His trouser brushed

against my knee as I felt him stand up. ‘Everyone… thank you so much for

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being here… Lily’s right. 15 years together before marriage is a very long

time. I’m like a brother to her. And she’s like a sister to me. And 5 minutes

ago, I couldn’t see that… but I can now. So… would everyone like to raise

their glasses… to Lily.’

A voice suddenly echoed, ‘To Lily.’ It was my dad. He looked straight at

me in the eye and winked. Then the whole room stood up and raised their

glasses, in unison, ‘to Lily.’

Bethan Wheeler

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The Funeral

Being here makes me feel really old. It also makes me feel selfish for

even thinking it at a time like this. You see I am currently sitting in the

front row, the first pew, the seats that are closest to the action, and it is the

funeral of my older brother, Antony. Now, I do not wish to mislead you, if

that is indeed what I have done. My brother lived to the grand old age of

seventy eight. He was always three years older than me, now that won’t be

the case. In just four years- assuming I live that long, I will be older than

my older brother. Age has now become a funny concept.

After the funeral the family go back to my recently deceased brothers’

house for food and drink that would barely be put to use. I sit on the sofa

next to my daughter watching Antony’s grandchildren playing on the floor

in front of us. The low hum of idle chatting spread through the room,

pierced only by the sudden laughter of the children that are quickly

hushed away by their parents. There are a few attempts to tell the room

funny stories involving Antony, but they only raise a few forced laughs.

What are you thinking? Are you wondering how your funeral will play

out? Please do not feel bad about it; I am sitting here doing the same. Will

people be able to tell stories of my life? Are there any to tell? Is it too late

to start making these stories?

My daughter and I stay for two hours and fifty three minutes before I

say my goodbyes and accept their condolences. We drive back in silence.

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She could always tell what I needed, and right now I did not need people

telling me ‘how sad it was’ and ‘how he was in a better place’. All I needed

to do was to sit in my bedroom in the dark and summon all of the

memories I had of my brother, good and bad. That way I get to remember

him the way I always thought of him, not as a false image that others feel

the need to conjure up.

Laura Charles