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30/09/2014 Teri Terry http://teriterry.jimdo.com

I can’t hold on much longer. Don’t look down; don’t. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the dark sea, churning far below. Icy wind howls and plucks at my body, pulls it away from the ship even as I struggle to hold on, to swing myself back up to safety. If you can call it that. This ship isn’t safe, not for me. My hands are numb; I can’t feel them anymore. I fall...

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Comment by Adam Lancaster on September 30, 2014 at 9:18

down and plunge into the frozen embrace of the ocean. It's icy tendrils reach up put me still further down as above me objects rain down from the ship. Some pass me as I tumble and turn in the watery depths. They look like small pieces of metal but I can't be sure as everything seems like nothing I've ever known. I have no idea whether I'm upside down or the right way up. I only know I go no further down but neither can I go back up. Sam, Monk's Walk 

Comment by Jayne Davidson, WHHS, UK on September 30, 2014 at 11:03
I look down at my breast where my locket should be, it was the only thing I still had of her. We had always had a good relationship… My chest felt lighter; I couldn’t breathe. I swam up to the surface clasping my chest. IT WAS GONE. I went back down as fast as I could, my eyes stinging .Where was it? I see a glimmer of light in the dark abyss that I had fallen into. I reach out for my beloved locket. I gasp. I see a face emerge from the turquoise ocean. It was her. It was my mother. How could this be possible? I know my mind’s messing with me. Or is it?
I remember screaming, blood, death and a woman crying “Blue! Blue!”
She grabs my arm and awakens me from my reverie. Where were we going?
Reneazha, Kiara,Skye.
West Hatch High School
Comment by N Francis on September 30, 2014 at 11:55

I didn’t want to go deeper down into the icy water and be recaptured by the ghosts of our past. The moonlight shafts on the midnight sea are filled with memories and portraits from my soul, they warp into misty characters that she once knew when all was well. I don’t want to be stolen back to the screams and the nightmares it started… “Ouch!” I felt my wrist throbbing from her vice like grip, this was my mother, a woman who once wore satin and silk and brushed my unruly locks, what has she become?  As we go further down, I smell the sweet smell of rosemary and glimpse a nervous smile upon my mother’s lips, as a young man that I recognise as my father, clasps her hand and heart in a question that would change her existence. I see our life flash before us, a cherub like baby staring up at me with the same glassy eyes as mine, I see a little girl with messy red pigtails and a flower in her hair skipping in the fields that we once owned, I see my father’s crown and my mother’s beaming face. That was before they came…

By Mary Whittingdale and Emma Brewer - St. Benedict's Catholic School

Comment by Paula Ward on September 30, 2014 at 12:56

I suddenly snap back to reality, the salty water stinging my eyes.  A pain like I have never felt before courses through my chest. Air. I need air. That is all I can think about right now. I start to swim up but something rough clutches my ankle. I look down for the source of the grip, my amber hair floating around me. There. A shiver creeps through my bones. A ghostly white hand holds me in its stony grip. I scream, but then quickly cover my gaping mouth, trying to conserve my precious oxygen. I kick, hard. The fingers loosen their grip just enough for me to break free. I float up to the surface, bordering on unconsciousness from the endeavour I had just survived. A wave comes crashing down on me like some hungry beast. I have just managed to take one long heavenly breath before I am swept back into the clutches of the deep dark ocean. I resurface and search for the ship. All I can see is debris. A sigh of relief rattles through me. They were on that ship. The sea seems inviting compared to them.  I grab on to a piece of dark, ragged metal. They were the ones who kidnapped me and tortured me for answers; answers about the secret that I will take to the grave.  But I know there are more of them - I will never be safe. They killed my family, my friends and now it’s my turn.

Miranda and Issy,

Robert May's School

Comment by Lorraine French on October 1, 2014 at 10:33

Once again I manage to burst up to the surface again. I don’t know how I am still alive. Should I be dead, or is it my destiny to live? ‘’Faith? Faith!’’ What is that voice, calling my name, calling me? I turn around as my mother’s voice echoes painfully through my heart. I feel like I’ve been stabbed. Mum’s beautiful auburn hair encircles her perfect face like a halo. I want to run towards her, but something doesn’t seem right. She looks like my mum, sounds like my mum, even whiffs of her rosy lavender scent! But she’s not. She’s too much like my mum. She looks too much like her, sounds too much like her, smells too much like her. Who is this imposter? No, what is it? I love my mum, well I did before she died. Nancy Blue, that was her name. She used to use our surname as a nickname for me when I was younger, although I never knew why. Maybe it was her I heard calling ‘’Blue, Blue’’, yes, it must of been. I’m losing consciousness. I must stay in the real world, not in dreams and visions. Suddenly, with a great surge of strength, I swam with immense speed towards the boat, even though my life on that thing had been a living nightmare. Anything would be better than what I am experiencing right this moment. Once I am on the ship I leap into a barrel to hide. I need to start a new life, so no one can find me. I’ll never know what those creatures are, or why they destroyed everything and everyone I love. Or will I...?

Sophie & Martha Trinity School

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