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The Rock Pool

The Rock Pool

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Published by VictoriaJSmith
When homework is the last thing on a lads mind.
When homework is the last thing on a lads mind.

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Published by: VictoriaJSmith on Apr 26, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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04/26/2013

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THE ROCK POOL
By Victoria J Smith
 
The rock pool project
Time was flying. The day was almost at an end, yet all Andrew did, was stare at the blank piece of paper in front of him.The project that the teacher had handed out, was supposed to have been in that day, but with hissweet angelic smile, he made the feeble excuse to his teacher. And with an understanding smile, shetold the young boy, that as long as he got the topic on her desk in the morning, she would let him off on the detention that she had already given to the other two children in his class.It had been a project that was to be completed over the term, six weeks in all. However, Andrew wasa boy that had much to do in his life, that homework was the last thing on his mind.He played football, not only for the school, but also for the local team in the village. Training mostdays and continuing to play kick-around with any of the other teammates who were allowed tocontinue to play long into the evening with their
parents’
permission.Rugby too was a favourite. A new sport he delved into when he started at the secondary school. Anatural with his ways, and one that the coach of the rugby team, wished to assist him with winningthe big silver trophy for his already overcrowded cabinet which was homed in the main entrance of the big comprehensive school.Then there was running. Cross-country was new too. The teacher of the P.E department insisted heran for the school, competing against the enemies; the secondary schools near to his own, whererunning shoes spikes were deliberately aimed at shins to prevent the runner from winning.In addition, when he was not needed by the grown- ups of the sporting world, his PlayStation was
his next best thing. He’d never hear his mums demands of getting downstairs for tea. Nor did hehear his dad’s car pull up on the drive. He
was too intense in killing the baddies and chatting to hiscyber-friends on-line to notice the real world around.So homework was not ever going to be on his agenda.He cared little about the Tudors, nor of what happened in space. And the project on gargoyles wasone he loathed, looking at pictures of hideous statues on buildings, that were to keep evil away, wasone big yawn for the lad.This project was one big headache too.
The Study of a Rock Pool 
. The need to understand organisms,the seasons that bought life or death in these habitats. Who ate who, who loved who, and the typesof animals that lodged in these places. Very boring indeed.He stared hopelessly at the white paper, scratching his head and waiting for inspiration to take overhis mind, to make him the best ecologist in the world. However, it was not inside him, only the urgeto go upstairs and play on his console. The need to take down the enemy first before anyone elsewas flowing in his veins. Furthermore, the planned meeting of his cyber-friends was vastlyapproaching, and that was far more important.
 
He would’ve used the computer, had he
started the project sooner. However, the laptop was broke,accidently dropped by his mum, who was rushing around the house like a headless chicken, gettingthe house clean before the family returned back from work and school. The laptop was in a shop,being repaired whilst he sat thinking, cursing under his breath, and wishing to leave the bum-numbing place for pastures more
violent.His sister came into the room, younger then he, but more of the brainier sort. She hated sport,
couldn’t run to save her life. She loved school,
M
ath’s
, English, Science, a top of the class sort of child, who loved working and learning new skills to promote her knowledge of the world around her.And with an eagle eye scanning the topic introduction that lay in front of her brother, noticed thathe was not going to get anything done by sitting there sulking, and kicking the chair leg with un-fairness.She smiled curtly, as she walked by and made a dash to the sweet cupboard. She was a fan of rockpools, knew what was what, knew how the circle of life evolved in that little haven. But with a bullyof a brother, she kept tight lipped, enjoying the pain she saw in his face.Andrew sighed. He attempted a drawing of a crab. He knew they lived in a rock pool. But the crablooked sad
as he would call it. With frustration he rolled the paper in a ball and threw it at thewall.Emma smiled how she liked seeing him in a bad mood. He would always be sent to bed whenever heattempted to murder his sister, when she secretly rubbed him up the wrong way, without their
parents’
knowledge. However, the smile quickly wiped away from her freckled face, when she heardmore saddened sighs from her ginger-haired brother.She sighed too. She had things to do, but her brother needed her, needed a little bit of help. With anunderstanding smile, she sat next to her brother and began to tell him as much as she could about arock pool.Andrew listened; he scribbled notes, Emma drew pictures, gave him chains of who ate who, andwhat severity weather could cause, plus other facts that she knew about rock pools.With no time, Andrew was writing away, pencils used to draw pictures, graphs used in parts that hefelt were needed. And in a child-like way, wrote a more understanding knowledge of a rock pool,that was not with complicated words or meanings, but more of what a ten year old sister would seeinside or out, of a rock pool.Andrew was early for school the following day. It was not a big project that he was going to submit,maybe one that had ten pages of A4 size. But still enough for the teacher to scan over during break-time, and one that had plenty of information for the teacher to understand that he did know of arock pool, even though the day before, he had not.She smiled at Andrew when he handed the plastic folder towards the teacher
s hands. She openedthe plastic folder and peeked inside, and nodded before walking away.

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