STUDENT WRITING
This is the page dedicated to First Story students and their writing… thanks to them it is bursting with creativity and talent. READ ON!
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I took Sadness to a boxing match. He pushed the door open slowly with one finger, dragging his feet. It sounded like a snake hissing as it died. With his face light blue and his clothes faded grey, his eyes showed that something he’d loved had gone. Others looked, but ignored him and carried [...]
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I remember back in the days when I was so fresh, I came from Africa to here and spoke no English. I was what people would say ‘Fresh off the boat’ I started school and everyone laughed at the way I spoke. I used to hate school and everyday felt like a test, I just [...]
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It was 8.35 and I was late. I stopped for my Big Issue all the same, gave me that well-earned boost, I was a nice guy at heart. ‘There you are, mate,’ he said, handing me a copy and flashing a smile. His teeth were misshapen and stained from fags and hand-me down coffee. I didn’t move, [...]
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School is over. I smile as I run down the marble stairs, ignoring protests made by my teachers. I don’t even stop to exhale a rushed apology on my way. Because these people can wait. Because they’re not important right now. Because my grandmother flew in from Croatia this morning. I throw open the creaky, [...]
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You are that little sparkle on my pristine diamond. You are that speck of blue amidst my grey sky – your cradling words slice the air only to morph into splatters of blue… You are that melody resonating from my puffin’s morning birdsong. You are that star in the blank canvas that is the night [...]
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I bet I go through more in one week than you will in your entire life. It’s living on the edge, doing what I do. I steal stationery. A unique type of pencil? A rare protractor? A valuable ruler? I can get it for you. I’ve stolen whole crates of compasses from offices, ripped biros [...]
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The house was silent. Grandma sat in her rocking chair and stared at her microwave. The microwave did not buzz. The birds did not sing. The phone did not ring. The house was silent. The silence made Grandma unaware of what was happening in the basement… Mice. They crawled on the ceiling. They crawled on the floor. [...]
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It was as if I was given a fresh new start. Standing there, watching people live their daily lives, and acting normal and pretending it never even happened if a problem occurred, whereas I would have panic attacks and feel frustrated with the slightest things. Anyhow I look around, ignoring people, objects, laughter, talking… [...]
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The wind turns the pages of my notepad gently as I observe the landscape before me. My blue eyes focus on the freshly cut grass, whilst I inhale the lingering smell that is left over from the mowing. My mind seems free now that I’ve escaped the heaviness of infrastructure that weighed on me. [...]
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Loneliness is a lone balloon drifting through the empty sky. Loneliness is starving orphans sleeping on the streets of Africa. Loneliness is the echo of a faraway voice. Loneliness is the cry of a howling wind. Loneliness is a plastic bag being carried by a breeze. Loneliness is a broken doll sitting on the back [...]
