SHORT STORIES

STAHS!FROM

A SELECTION OF

A Selectionof Short Stories

Authors

Eleanor Buckett

Persia SmutsOlivia Menon

Ella Byrt

Illustrators Vida Oskooee

Ashlea Philips

From STAHS

h is edition published 2014

St Albans High School for Girls

First published 2014

Contents

On he Run

he Leaf

he Day My Friends Were Silenced

1

6

10

he Decision 13

I ran through the dark woods, my heart pounding. I reached a fallen tree and stopped to get my bearings. To my let was a bed of nettles, to my right, a derelict old house and right in front of me were some narrow steps. I decided to take the path to the right. As I started to run once more, I heard the distant sound of footsteps and loud voices. I pelted through the trees, up the cracking stone steps and hurled myself at the door.

“Aaah!” I screamed, feeling the sharp splinters pierce my skin.

Just then, I remembered my telekinesis and with a few l icks of my wrist, I heard the rusty locks spring open and I bolted in, just managing to lock the door manually behind me.

ON THE RUNBy Ella Byrt

(1)

I sank onto the cold l oor, my breath heaving, my lungs desperately gasping for air.

“No time to lose!” I thought to myself.

I ran upstairs and went into the i rst room. It was a bathroom. A rusted old sink, and a smashed mirror took up the small dank space, along with a rancid, mouldy bath. Peering into the mirror, I gasped at my rel ection. My long silky hair was now a mass of damp and tangled curls around my bruised face, and my mascara was running down my cheeks. I breathed out slowly, trying to calm down. Suddenly, my heart gave a massive jolt in my chest, as I heard the sound of splintering wood.

It took only seconds for me to realise, with horror, that someone or something was being hurled at the front door. At i rst, my blood ran cold and I froze in terror! At er what seemed like an eternity of holding my breath, I tiptoed into the next room.

In the darkness that surrounded me, I slipped on something wet and viscous. Out of control, I hurtled backwards, l ailing like a discarded rag doll.

(2)

he decayed and decrepit loor beneath me gave way, and I was suddenly and terrifyingly falling and falling.

Ater violently hitting the hallway loor on the storey below, I curled up in shock, my body shaking like a little mouse. It took a while for me to pull myself together, but gradually, I gathered my breath as well as my courage. I sat up, squinting to see through the darkness, and my eyes slowly focused on the three dark shapes. heir silhouettes bored into my wide, terriied eyes. I crawled painfully into the old living room and tentatively put my ear to the window.

“What are we going to do?” said one voice. “We can’t just leave her in there!”

“We don’t even know if she IS in there, you stupid idiot!” said a female voice. My ears pricked up to the sound of what was undoubtedly a familiar voice.

“Shut up, you two! If she is in there, we need to ind a way in, and we’ll get nowhere with you imbeciles arguing!”

Malachi Wilkins! he top serial killer in the whole world! Hunting ME down!

A cool breeze brushed my face. I turned around to see the far window had blown open. As I crept nearer to it, I heard the sound of waves.

(3)

(4)

“he sea!” I whispered.

Suddenly, with abject horror, I realised that one of the gang was trying to kick the door down!

“hey deinitely know I’m in here, and they’re not going to give up trying to get me!” I thought.

I took the nearest dining chair and leant it against the window. Climbing up onto it, I edged slowly out onto the window sill. I looked down and peered into the deep dark mouth of the monster. he sea was my biggest fear, so this was going to be a challenge for me.

Holding my breath, I plummeted into the icy water. he shock was petrifying! My lungs burning, my legs thrashing and my heart pounding, I inally managed to ind the surface, my body ighting to stay alive. I could no longer feel my legs and my teeth were chattering like frenzied castanets.

Suddenly, I saw an island about forty metres away from me.

“Ye-e-e-s-s-s!” I screamed.

I swam towards the island, my strokes slow and unsure at irst but becoming stronger and more conident with every minute.

(5)

I emerged from the sea, crawled onto the sand and started crying. I just felt so relieved that I had survived that deadly journey. Without warning, I felt the presence of someone behind me. h e energy intensity was high. Higher than I’d ever experienced before. I turned around and saw a tall i gure emerge from the bushes.

“Please! Help me!” I cried. “I am lost and don’t know where I am!”

h e i gure walked towards me, and pulled something out from the inside of his jacket. Something black and shiny that glistened in the moonlight. A gun.

h e LeafBy Eleanor Buckett

I never used to care about my appearance. I never used to care at all. I would trudge past mirrors as if they were mere cracks in the wall. You would never catch me shopping; I loathed all make-up, magazines and melodrama. In the shower, I’d squeeze my eyes tight shut as the steamy drips trickled down this anonymous body of mine. Why were these simple actions considered abnormal?

I had nothing; I had no one to coni de in. I had no understanding of why people didn’t accept me for who I was. A towering wave tumbled down on me, crushing my spindly body, and I lay sprawled on the seabed waiting for someone to reach me.

(6)

(7)

And they did. At the age of nearly fourteen, I met Tanya. In my eyes she was completely diff erent from me, with her own interests and hobbies, but in their eyes she was just the same - an unknown species. Tanya couldn’t help being diff erent though; she had a condition that made her stand out, nothing more than that. In fact, what’s the use in mentioning her disability when it’s so irrelevant to the girl beneath?

So Tanya and I ruled our world together. Two queens with crumpled paper crowns balanced on rickety wooden chairs in the form room. We agreed we’d never grow up, not until this world had matured enough to see us how we really were.

A year later, Tanya let the school; I went back into the dark. It was a cruel place, worse than before: the girls became locusts and the boys were vultures, constantly biting, picking, cackling, cornering. But that was at their best because they were cruellest when they were human. Humans know your weaknesses and they have the most dangerous bite of all: a voice.

(8)

“Not so strong now, are we? Lost without Tanya, are we? You better get your act together, Aliza, or you’ll never get anywhere.” She tittered to herself and strutted off . I forgot to mention, the girl was two years younger than me.

(9)

I had to change. h is couldn’t go on. My GCSEs were looming on the horizon and I was slowly falling apart. I began to imagine myself as a delicate silver leaf, crisp and wafer-like, dangling from a branch. But slowly over the years the leaf began to disintegrate, its edges crumbling under the weight of raindrops. No one noticed this little leaf and soon there was nothing of it let but a thin grey stalk.

I was not this leaf, so I changed.

*****

I’m now surrounded by mirrors, surrounded by beauty. I’m surrounded by friends. Not real friends, never real friends, unsurprisingly. Deep down I feel as though I’ve cheated myself, like I’m a traitor to the individuality God gave me. However, I know that, for now, no one can accept me for who I really am.

But times are changing; we are maturing; soon my voice will be heard.

h e Day My Friends

By Olivia Menon

When I got that job on the Mary Rose, I thought it was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was a beautiful ship and was the l agship of King Henry’s i rst French war 30 years before. I had been trained as an archer in my home country of Wales and I was more than willing to leave my family and work for the King and defeat the French and Spanish pests. I was only sixteen years old when I joined in the spring of 1544. I was one of the youngest of the 500 men who lived and worked on the ship.

Were Silenced

(10)

At the time, I remember the Captain boasting that the Mary Rose was one of the earliest war ships to carry heavy guns. It was an amazing thing to have these guns on board. h ey were so heavy. h ey had to be placed near the waterline so the gun ports had to be watertight in the rough seas. It was every boy’s dream to work on such a ship. For the Mary Rose crew, it made us feel invincible. We were all very proud to belong to the crew of such a ship. And she remained a beautiful ship even on that fateful day.

h e morning of the 19th July 1545 dawned bright and clear. We all knew that there would be an ambush by the French l eet. We were up and running around, preparing the guns and arrows. h e Captain briefed us on the battle plan. It was a windy day; everyone on the upper deck felt the wind and we were pleased because we thought it was favourable to us. h e King sent out the whole l eet to meet them. h e guns i red and made the whole ship shake. Our company felt coni dent on our undefeated ship. Looking back, I feel sick to my stomach to think of how my friends and I made fun of the French and how stupid we were to feel so coni dent.

(11)

(12)

We had won on that day, 10 years ago, when the Mary Rose turned back towards the harbour triumphantly. Hideously, in a l ash, it all turned to disaster. h e ship turned suddenly and we were rocked around violently and the gun ports on the lowest decks were still open at er i ring. Before the Captain could give any orders, I felt the whole ship keeling over. I tried to swim but my foot was stuck in the netting which was imprisoning my friends, who were struggling to swim away but failing. I saw their crosses and rosaries l oating away. I grabbed my knife and cut myself loose and swam away.

It was a tragic day. h e Mary Rose sank in a matter of minutes. Four hundred and sixty i ve men drowned. I am one of the few who survived. I was sent back home because I would never be able to work on another ship again.

THE DECISION

Jenna hesitated. “I can still walk away,” she told herself as she moved her i nger towards the door. She took a deep breath, braced herself and urged her trembling i ngers to open the creaky door. Done.

Behind a wooden desk, sat a blonde haired lady, hair tied in a strict bun. She put down her glasses.

“Hello, you must be Jenna Claires. Nice to meet you. You can start when you are ready.”

h e professional voice of the lady made Jenna even more scared but she opened her mouth and sang. She sang like a nightingale, she sang like a swan before death and she sang like an angel. When she i nally stopped, the lady nodded her head and Jenna let the examination room.

By Persia Smuts

(13)

(14)

“How was it?” asked her eager mum. Jenna replied that she didn’t know and there was a miserable silence as they drove home. At er a few days Jenna stopped being anxious and started to enjoy herself again. h at is, until the letters came.

It was an ordinary day, the cherry blossoms in bloom and the sun bright like a l ame, as usual. When Jenna arrived home, she hung her bag up and went to have lunch. Instead her mother and father were waiting for her.

“h e letters came,” said her mother.

“Letters?” asked Jenna blankly.

“Yes, two,” replied her mother with fake cheeriness. She took the letters from her father’s hands, opened them and began to read one. It said:

(15)

Dear Jenna Claires,

You have been admitted into Clancy Performing Arts Academy for Girls. Should you choose to accept, the term starts on Wednesday in London. You are expected to bring sheets and bedding as we have extended the academy for boarding. I hope to see you soon. he fees for a term are £40,000.

Yours,

Primrose Brown, Headmistress of Clancy Performing Arts Academy for Girls

Jenna Claires,

You are invited to join Millen Sapser Vocal School for Girls. Term starts on Monday.

he other letter simply said:

“Wow,” said her mum ater she had read the letter. “London is far and a… boarding school…”

Jenna smoothed her hazelnut hair and sighed. She let and trudged sadly to her room. So far away and she would never see her kind and funny best friend Rebecca.

(16)

Clancy was globally known and everybody who went there became a celebrity… she sighed and closed her eyes to a horrible nightmare. She was enveloped in a bunk bed, singing but her voice was strangled. She was trapped and she called for her mum but she wouldn’t come. She woke up hot and sweaty, but shivering uncontrollably.

Her mum walked into the room and said, “We are prepared to make sacrii ces for you and we accept your decision to go to Clancy Academy.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jenna and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not prepared to make the sacrii ces vital for Clancy Academy and I am going to Millen Sapser.” Her parents looked astonished and asked her if she was sure but her mind was made up. So much for her dreams of being a famous singer.

She went and watched Bobbi Mallei, her favourite singer, and sighed. Days passed and gradually her misery passed until the dreaded Monday. Another letter arrived before that though and again it was from Millen Sapser. It stated:

We are delighted to have the privilege of guidance from singer Bobbi Mallei.

Millen Sapser Vocal School for Girls

“Come on,” said her mum with a smile. “First stop: Millen Sapser…”

(17)

A WONDERFUL JOURNEYOF THE IMAGINATION