07/03/2014 Dan Freedman http://www.danfreedman.co.uk

[WP Central]

I don't know why, but I just thought that teachers didn't really have a life outside of school. Not that I'd ever thought about it that much - I mean who really cares what teachers do after school? - but I guess, somewhere in my head, I kind of assumed that they lived and slept in the school building...that that was all they did.

So to see Mr Hitchcock there - of all places - was more than a serious shock to the system. It blew my mind to be honest.

I thought about ignoring him but I couldn't. There was no way I could let this go. I had to find out what HE was doing THERE.....

Seeing him at Adidas, skimming over the boots, my perception of the game changed. An image of Mr Hitchcock in a football jersey and shorts kicking a ball around filled my head and sent shivers down my spine. Trying to avoid any form contact with him, I made a beeline for the door.

 

Panting, I flop onto my bed face first and try to get the picture of Mr Hitchcock out of my head. Still not being able to think of football in the same way, I ditched my usual habit of reading the stats from last night’s games before bed. Closing my eyes, I recalled my unfinished homework and sat bolt upright in bed. This was going to be a long night…

 

 

[Nicola Gowing]

After a night of tossing and turning, I woke up with a banging headache; it felt like the image of Mr Hitchcock in Adidas was imprinted in my brain and burning through my skull. Deciding whether to get up and face the hideous thing I saw or just hibernate under my covers and pretend it never happened was a tricky choice. Eventually I pulled myself out of bed and went to get ready in my so-called-un-suite which was basically a wardrobe with a sink and small shower that was ancient.

 I just kept thinking about Mr Hitchcock looking at the football boots- I don’t think I can I play football again after seeing the disturbing scene!

Shuffling downstairs I heard concerned whispers coming from my mums room across the hallway which stopped me in my tracks. I opened the door and asked my mum if there was someone in her bed, then suddenly a figure under the covers starting moving up the bed in a crawling position.

“Honey, why don’t you make some toast and tea for my new friend?” said my mum, as sweetly and innocently as possible.

“What?” I replied, puzzled by the figure under the covers still moving upwards.

“Hey son!” shouted a voice whom I wrongfully recognized.

Oh no, it couldn’t be… Mr Hitchcock. Why was he here? What was he doing? All these questions bubbled up in my head making me confused and light-headed. Am I dreaming? Before I could even think about that question I blacked out and went into a deep sleep. 

Karli Scott, Chloe Long and Brandon Miller

Great Yarmouth High School

07/03/14

[janet dowey]

I kept thinking about Mr Hitchcock and why he was doing there. I didn't sleep well that night. A sudden urge to get up  and to get dressed came over me. I sneaked out of the front door and headed to school. I noticed that the school was open,but how was that possible. It was a weekend. So I went to explore but the gates weren't open so I looked for a possible entry. The other gate was open the one that was on the other side of the school, but no one used it. I went a bit further and spotted the teachers in the school library. I entered the school and relized it was a normal school day then I checked my phone it was a wednesday I made a right fool of my self. I crept back home. Mum hadn't woke up yet. That was brilliant. Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door. It was Mr Hitchcock. He asked me why I wasn't at school, and that was the last thing I remeber

Adam Stephens Unity City Academy 

[janet dowey]

all i could think about was mr hitchcock at addidas but why i thought untill it was 4 o'clock in the morning why did he have to be in the shop i thought all teachers lived in school they do dont they why would a teacher leave his work to come to a shop i thought he would have people to do that for him so he never had to leav school.how much work they put in to school you wouled think they had no life no human side about them no one bit of humanity ye i see him in my palour my place of humanity not like school all they did was work like robots at a factory they where never ment to go outside ye they do leave the school.then i heard my alarm go off it was 8 o,clock time for school my little sister shouted but i went over the thought of a teacher at a shop so much i made myself ill so i had to stay off school well atleast i dont have to face mr hitchcock at school but mybe i need to i need to ask him why he was out of school but how to ask him

uca lucy armstrong

[janet dowey]

"Uuurghhh..." The groan passed between my dry lips before I could stop it, and I could feel a dull, throbbing ache in my temples, like the ache you get when you wake up, but far worse. "Uuurghhnn..." I groan again, and as I wait patiently for the dull, aching throb to subside, I find that my lips and throat are as dry as bone, like the time I went hiking into the hills but ran out of water and very nearly died of dehydration before my Mum refilled my bottle for the third time in an hour. I swallowed thickly, feeling a hot weight in my throat, and so I lick my lips moist so that I can talk - if I can. As for my throat and its unbearable dry texture, I would have to wait and see to see what happens. Swallowing thickly, I open my eyes and grimace with pain as a dull brightness sears into my eyes, making me grimace and wince with pain, and with the blood pounding in my head like rumbling thunder, I manage to make out where I am with stinging, smarting eyes. It was a place that I somehow expected to be in, for some unknown reason. I was sitting at my desk in my classroom: I was in the middle of the room, with nineteen or so wooden desks and chairs outlining around me, and at the front of the room is an electronic whiteboard that was scrawled in black ink: "WEDNESDAY 5th MARCH 2014. SUBJECT: SCIENCE. PRACTICAL EXAM: DISSECTION..."

By Dylan Wright, Unity City Academy, Middlesbrough, United Kingdom

[Annette Bowles]

(Dissection- great. I began to wonder what teacher I had, before my question was answered as Mr Hitchcock walked into the room. He looks at me knowingly, and I can't shake the image of him first in Adidas, and then in my mum's bed! If I was less shy, I would shout at him now- ask him what he was doing with my mum!

"Okay class, I will be your teacher for today and we will be doing dissection!"

My day gets worse and worse. The science technician enters the room with a trolley which sqeaks across the old floorboards like a cat scratching a blackboard.

"Here's your erm... items for dissection" The technician stammers.

Mr Hitchcock seemed to become redder and redder. Either A, it's was hot (and from my recounts it was particuarly chilly), or he had something to hide.)

Year 9 Lynn Grove School

 

[Annette Bowles]

Mr Hitchcock walks in, and my face drops. I can't believe that he is teaching us again. He looks at me like he recognises me, well no wonder, he was in my mum's bed last night!

He gives me an assuring nod, almost like he wants me to keep his dirty little secret. The lesson wasn't so bad, because I avoided Mr Hitchcock completely. What happened after wasn't so good though. After everybody had left, Sir wanted me to stay behind. He asked me if I knew what happened last night, I didn't know whether he was talking about the fact that he was shopping in Adidas or the fact that he accompanied my mother in bed last night. I asked him what he meant by that, and he replied with a very stern look. I could tell he knew that I knew, so I had to nod, uncertainly. Desperately, I tried to think of an excuse  to leave, but Mr Hitchcock grabbed my arm, and pulled me back. I couldnt control myself, and I fainted.

By Harry Sofokleous, Jamaia Debbage, Drew Southernwood, William West, Lynn Grove High School, United Kingdom.

[Vashti Turner]

All I could hear is Mr Hitchcock calling me. “Mike, Mike. Can you hear me?”

When I recovered I was in the hospital.

“Oh thank god you’re fine!” my mum exclaimed.

Much to my dismay, Mr Hitchcock was there too. Why out of all the fish in the sea would my idiot of a mother choose Mr. Hitchcock? MR HITCHCOCK! I asked my mother if we could speak in private. When my ‘stepdad’ left, I started to row with my mum.

She hissed “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOUNG BOY? YOU DO NOT CONTROL WHO I DO AND DON’T GO OUT WITH!” I felt powerless.

Once I was back at school I tried to get Mr. Hitchcock fired... YOU HEARD ME! FIRED! Unfortunately I failed and got a 1 hour detention. I had made up a lie saying that he’d tried to beat me up. It was really realistic because I put eye drops in my eyes making it look like I was crying. Mr Etienne (the Head) caught me. After my 1 hour detention my mum gave me a proper good spanking. At dinner there was an awkward silence and Mr. Hitchcock broke the sweet silence.

“So, Mike, how are you?”

“Fine Mr. Hitchcock and you” AWKWARD!

“Please call me Lesley” SAY WHAT?

I roared with laughter until my throat was dry, I had to drink water which made me choke... LESLEY! LESLEY! My mother gave me a vexed look. When will this torture end? The very next day LESLEEEEEEEE gave me a one and a half hour detention. Oh how I hate the guy.

 

Kane Mesa, Bacon’s College, London

[Tricia Oyston]

After the evil Lesley made me run 12 laps of the vast field, I trudged home, slammed the door behind me and flopped on to my bed. "Mike?" came the voice of my sickening 'stepdad'.

I had passed out.

My eyes fluttered open. There was Mr Hitchcock, standing over me like a lion over its prey, stinking of my mother's sickly perfume. I bolted upright, my instincts kicked into overdrive. Only then did I realise that my hands were tightly bound together, thick chains digging into my wrists. I quickly took in my surroundings and thought that I hadn't passed out in this horrible place. The heavy metal door was almost blocking out my mother's cursing screams. Almost…

Lesley stood up hastily and struck the door with a revolver. I stared, horrified as my mother screamed even louder.

"MUM!" I screeched.

"MIKE! My darling!" screeched my mother, through a waterfall of tears. If only I could get through that door, if only I could untie my wrists, if only… I was hopeless. Suddenly a small metal paperclip fell into my palm. Where had THAT come from? I had no time to worry about that now. I picked the lock that held the chains round my wrists together like I had done so many times with my best friend Gary. I grabbed the revolver and took my aim. Lesley was dead. Now, how do I get out?

I looked up to see Gary, his cheery self hanging in the rafters.

Ayanah E, Daisy S, Izzy B~ 7W, Sheffield High School.

[Simone Pope]

**ALTERNATE ENDING** After a couple of awkward days I began to think a bit more sensibly about the situation. As I did I started to get angry at my mother… How could she not tell me? Her son! That she went off with none other than Mr Lesley Hitchcock? I pondered upon this for a good few hours and decided to take it up with both my mother and the principal Mr Ali.
Finally it was time for our meeting. Mother didn’t know until I told her a few minutes before we were going because I did not want to give her more time to make an excuse. As we entered Mr Ali greeted us with his enlightening bright face. After we told him of the situation he called for the Technicians because he did not know Mr Hitchcock so well. When the technician Mrs Wat came in she was thoroughly confused by the entire predicament…
“Why do you look so perplexed Miss?” I asked, as addle-brained as she was.
“Well I am pretty sure that Mr Hitchcock is already a married man!” She said, Mr Ali looked baffled by the information,
“Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Call Mr Hitchcock this instant!” he shouted. Mother looked hapless as she had no idea of this turn of events. She thought she knew everything about her Lesley and the utter shock of hearing this information was too much for her to bear. She left in silence. The hole I had already dug was opening up into a gaping abyss of despair.

James Culley and Connor Burgess Woolmer Hill School