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It was Dad’s idea, of course. He’s into all that survival stuff. His idea of a family holiday is crossing the Sahara by camel. We had to drink our own pee. Last year it was Siberia. I lost three toes to frostbite. So when the auditions for a new TV show called Extreme Jungle Family Challenge came up he was first in line. The idea was simple; drop an “ordinary” family into the Amazon rainforest with a couple of video cameras and leave them to it . . .
Which is how I came to be wading through piranha-infested water in search of catfish with my little brother, Cub, and my twin sister, Rainbow. Mum and Dad were back at the swampy clearing we now called home, working on the hut.
Cub heard it first. He dropped his spear and looked up. Then I heard it too; the whir of a helicopter above the insect chirps and howler monkey cries that filled the tree canopy.
Rainbow frowned. ‘That’s weird. The TV crew aren’t due to pick us up for weeks.’
As the helicopter came down, the father could see a man surrounded by people with armor and guns. They were curious, the father thought to himself "why would somebody be out here with big security and rich clothes".
I rolled around in my potato sack, grunting. Wonderful, things couldn’t have taken a better turn. I sigh and shake my head. I lose track of time and soon I am lifted up and passed around.
*****
It has been 3 days. 3 days that I have been stuck in this hole. Dark, cold and humid. My pickaxe was stuck to my cracked hands. I was alone. What was this? We are mere peasants, working for the enrichment of the fat bourgeoisie. Is this the righteousness that we wish to achieve? Night was approaching. I made my way to the potato sack. A plan was forming in my mind, gears shifting and melting. My dad was shaking in a corner, a cloth draped on his shoulders, my little brothers surrounding him. Their eyes were dark, the light of hope was long gone. We had to unite, overthrow the rich; equality for all. That was it. No more dictatorship. The working society had enough of the rich and there selfishness. “NO MORE DICTATORSHIP!” it slipped past my lips. They looked up at we. Soon, we had pickaxes and potato sacks in our hands. We were going to storm the Pinter Palace.
Ariana M. and John F. American School of Milan, Italy
As we thrust our pickaxes into the squishy mud, we heaved our way out of the horrendous hole. Then we saw the incredible Pinter Palace, after that we stealthily tiptoed round to the back of the Pinter Palace where we saw a farm. As Cub warned us he peeked round the corner to check if there was a guard dog there but it was all clear. Meanwhile we stole a chicken. After that went to get some flint, steal and wood to make a fire to cook the chicken. Later that night we scoffed the chicken down and at midnight we went to find our Mum, then suddenly we saw a guard with his dog searching the area…
Easebourne C. E. Primary
We were all terrified that the guard was going to catch us. One of the miners had a brilliant idea- he suggested we distracted the guards whilst the rest of us run to the other side of the castle. Everybody else would go inside and try and release Mum, it was a terrific plan!!!! We sent two of the miners, Bob and Lenny to run as the distraction...the plan worked. All we had to do now was rescue Mum.......
Matthew and Florence, Cockwood Primary School
We never made it . We were disorientated by the bright lights and the castle's beauty. Dazed, we stumbled on and found ourselves in a maze.
Panicking, we began to climb onto each other to try and navigate the tangle of bushes, but they were too high and gargantuan. Dave tried to stand even higher on his tiptoes, but then began to wobble...until he fell with a thud on the ground. He remembers nothing ...
Lucy, James and Ben Pershore High School
Easebourne's writers; Ollie, Jack, Ethan, Charlie
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