ESSAY: 1

My mother once told me that true love existed but we had to look hard to find it because it would never
be right there in front of us dangling on a string but what if it was? I mean what if your true love was
right in front of you and telling you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear? But maybe perfect and true
love never really does exist forever. Panicos and I were like that. Totally loved up and everything. Well I
think it was love, deep down in my heart I felt like it. Panicos had said everything I’d wanted to hear. He
loved me. He never wanted us to be apart. Every second he wasn’t with me was an ache of pain. He said
everything a girl wanted to hear. And the next day it all went away. Gone.

I remember the night so well. Maybe because it was the last time I truly smiled or maybe it was because I
have dreams about it every night. I waited at Clapham Old Town for Panicos. The sun had set long ago
and a thick sheet of stars covered the sky with their radiant glow. I checked my watched for a fourth time;
he was suppose to have been here thirty minutes ago. I checked my phone and no calls, no messages
explaining where he was. I remember feeling anger for Panicos. Anger because I didn’t know where he
was and when he’d be here, why he’d desert me like this.

And then it happened. The phone rang, it said it was Panicos so when I answered I immediately started
screaming, piercing his ears with a deafening tone. I asked him where he was and what he was doing;
Telling him I was still waiting at the Old Town. But the voice from the end of the line was his friends
Antony’s . He started telling me things I couldn’t begin to understand. Panicos had been in a car crash. I
needed to get to the hospital straight away. I wasn’t able to register the rest as by this time I was confused
and perplexed. All I could think was no , not him, not now. I remember driving to the hospital my eyes
blurry with tears. I found the hospital and Antony stood outside pacing. He pulled me into a hug and I let
the tears fall. Then the stream of questions fell from my mouth. Where was he? Is he ok? What
happened?

But Antony shook his head and looked down at me his eyes glazed over and tears formed in his eyes. He
spoke but I refused to believe him. I ran into the hospital ignoring Antony’s shouts and found Panico’s
room. He lay there in the bed, he looked so peaceful, there was blood on his lips and with trembling
hands I wiped it away.

He opened his eyes slowly and I rushed to him and picked up his hand. He looked so weak and his eyes
were unfocused. But the next thing I remember is what he said to me.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the Old Town ,” he coughed and more blood trickled out of his mouth. I let
the tears fall and Panicos lifted his arm weakly and wiped them away, “No tears. Remember whatever
happens I love you.” Then Panicos closed his eyes and didn’t open them again. I stared at him for what
seemed like hours. His mother came in distraught and hysterical. Words came out, however her distressed
tone meant I didn’t register it. Nothing would get through to me. This couldn’t be happening. My world
had started to crumple all around me. My heart shattered and I felt like I could feel every fracture in it.
Antony laid an arm on my shoulder and I remember pulling away and falling into an insensible heap on
the floor. Tears streaming I cried for Panicos. I willed him to open his eyes but nothing I did worked. He
lay there unmoving and silent as death.

1
My Panicos had gone and left me in this world alone. I moved closer to him and took his cold hand in
mine once more. I kissed his hand and whispered into his ear those irrevocable words we’d just learnt to
say to each other; ‘I Love You Too.’

ESSAY : 2

‘Conflict is an unavoidable part of being human.’

Explanation of decisions: I intend to write this piece in the imaginary form to capture what Sal saw and
felt on the first night that her husband, William, had an encounter with an aboriginal. My recollection of
the first few pages of the novel will be told from Sal’s point of view and will reveal the reasons why she
wanted to leave Sydney as soon as they had enough money and Will was freed. This will also give the
reason why Sal wasn’t to fussed about the aboriginal women taking her bonnet and why she would trade
with them.
As I felt Will loosen his grip from my arm I knew that there was something wrong. I would never let him
know that I knew about the conflict that he had that night and the fright that I felt from that day forth.

I heard Will take a few steps forward and could hear that tears were dropping down from his soft cheeks.
Was he afraid or just feeling distraught? Never in thirty years did I hear or see my man shed a tear. I
knew that there had to be something wrong with him and that something was on his mind but what was
it? We usually never kept anything from each other. I slightly turned my neck, just enough so that Will
couldn’t notice me, to see what the commotion was all about. I saw that Will was standing just outside
our home looking into the night, but beyond him, in the dark night, I steaded my focus and could see two
eyes just staring at him with a wide white grin. The anxiety I felt, for all that I knew we were dead. It was
one of them, the savages, the ones that the newspaper was talking about. There could have been
hundreds, thousands or even millions awaiting in the dark to attack. What did they want? What were they
doing on our land? Couldn’t this just be avoided? I prayed that Will wouldn’t do anything stupid but all
that I was awaiting for was to hear him scream in dismay. I felt fear like I had never felt it before. After
they mutilated Will they were going to run into our home and see me and the children through that piece
of bark before penetrating a spear through us all. I clinched my stomach, the very same place they were
going to gorge a spear into. I felt sick, senseless and helpless. Why were they here? All I could think of
was going back home to London. The thought of London, what a beautiful place, the place were I was
born, the place I married Will, the same place that sentenced us to this hell hole. I couldn’t bear the idea
of being killed and dying in the very same place that I utterly hate. I slowly calmed myself down but I
was still afraid. Nothing was happening and the suspense was killing me itself. Why didn’t they kill us
already, I waited and listened closely.

As I watched into the night I heard Will’s breathing get a little bit faster. I knew that he was getting angry
but at the same time he was afraid as well. “Damn your eyes be off”, I watched and worried at the same
time, “Be off!” I knew that Will was trying to protect us but this wasn’t the right way, what is the use of
shouting if they don’t understand. I thought to my self that it would be easier if we just reasoned with
them; they were here in Sydney first weren’t they? Why not give them a little; they are kind of like

2
humans anyway. Shouldn’t they be dealt the same way? But then again these black devil savages aren’t
exactly civilised and they are impossible to talk to. I saw Will raise his hand, I swallowed my own tongue
knowing that if Will was to hit the black man another hundred of them would come out of the dark and
kill us all with out us realising it. “Be off!” I couldn’t believe it, this savage just yelled back at Will. “Be
off, be off”, were they just mimicking Will and making fun of him. Was this a joke or were they putting
Will off balance so that they could scurry in and kill us all? Or, where they trying to get to know us like
they were our neighbours? Was it indeed possible not to confront these people in a violent manner? Was
it possible that these savages can be civilised?

My heart was now racing. I didn’t want Will to hit the black man but I also didn’t want Will to die. Will
turned slowly to look back at us, maybe for the last time, and I quickly laid back down. As he turned
away I raised my head to look if he was still alive. To my astonishment Will was standing all by himself
and the savage was gone. Where did he go? Has he gone to get more of his fellow savages so that they
could kill us all when we are asleep? Or did he just say hello like a normal neighbour would do and
returned back to his family? Will ran straight back into the house stumbling on various objects. I lay
down as stiff as a plank of wood and pretended I was asleep. I knew that this encounter was playing on
his mind. He lay as stiff as possibly next to me, but I could feel that he was trembling in fear.

In the back of my mind all I could think of was that black man standing in front of Will with the spear in
his hand and a grin on his face. The thought of him speaking English played on my mind. The possibility
of actually living with these people in peace dazed me. Even the thought of London wasn’t enough to
keep those thoughts out of my mind. I knew that on that night Will did not sleep neither did I, we were
both awaiting the same fate, a spear being penetrated right through our guts and hundreds of savages
cheering at what they had done. But then again, maybe the savage left and let us be. Was Will going to
tell me about the encounter he had in the morning or was he going to pretend like it never happened, and
keep this away from me? All I knew and could think of was that our relationship was never going to be
the same. All I was now waiting for was for Will to get his pardon so we could go back to London.
Nobody is going to understand that we may not need to fight with these black natives. All that is going to
happen is chaos and that is not what I want for my family.

ESSAY :3

It was this time of year again, when the view out the window is so rare that it is seen more on festive
cards than in reality, it was snowing. A fine layer of white powder covers the top of every surface in
sight, stretching deep into the horizon, a sight so peaceful I could not help but feel calm. But this calm
feeling doesn't last, the mad panic around the house that the giant pink fleshed monstrosity of a turkey
won't fit in the oven; I try and try again to fit it in but to no prevail, at this stage I have almost given up
and am quite flustered, but then my calm uncle points out I haven't taken the grill pan out!
A feeling of relief and stupidity washes over me, the fiasco being a product of waking up too early.

“It’s good to have you back, dad.”

From those words, I felt in the pit of my stomach a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the same time.
Like a million butterfly’s fluttering frantically within myself, a feeling so sweet it is almost sickening.

“It’s good to be back.”

3
Then this irritating ringing of the doorbell as more and more distant relatives arrive for their annual
lunch, starts reminding me of the piercing, painful sound I had to endure for the last ten months. The
sound of the neverending melody reminded me of the neverending waves of bullets. My brain ached,
from those terrible memories.
“Come on Tatch, let’s go open up the presents”
The older generation sprints towards the comfiest of chairs to soothe the aches and pains of a long lasting
life. And the young ones sitting by the twinkling tree, are unpatiently awaiting the handing out of the
presents.
As the brightly coloured packages diminish around the room I observe the flicker of emotions across each
individuals face, ranging from the youthful look of excitement to the more mature look of “surprisement”
from yet another pair of socks.

“This one’s for you daddy, it came by the post this morning and I wanted to surprise you”

As my little boy reaches out his arm, I look at him and I and feel a grain of happiness invades his face.
The kind of happiness a child feels after a long day at the park, a happiness that cannot be controlled, an
everlasting happiness.

I took a look at the envelope; it was warn-out yellowish parchment that had suffered some damages and
so I figured it came from far away. The corners where badly folded as if the mailbox had been too small
for its size. At first I had some difficulty reading what was written on it – I imagine some drops of rain
had smudged the ink around – but then I recognised my name “Officer Tatcher Scott”.

“Officer,” that’s a word I had forgotten about, or at least, tried.

I felt my family’s level of curiosity was escalating and for my son’s sake, I had to open my “present”. I
slowly tear the envelope appart to find myself back in a nightmare.

“Officer Tatcher Scott has be recruted on the English Front, shift beginning on the 26th of December.” I
read out loud, in a trembling voice.

A wave of silence hit the living room. The recollection of what I remember to be the worst days of my
life suddenly came back to me as a storm of memories. A storm I could not escape. The time of
celebration had become the time of endless weep.

Much of the rest of the day slipped into oblivion through endless cups of teas and mince pies until the last
guest had finally departed. The heady aroma of nutmeg and cinnamon fighting for supremacy over the
overwhelming odour of brussle sprouts had lost importance whatsoever.

Although the though of reliving the horrors of the war was making my entire body shake, my biggest
worry of all was ruining my son’s Christmas day. This time of year where snow covers the city in white
and a giant pink fleshed turkey fills the oven of taste will no longer be a good memory.

4
ESSAY :4

As I was waking up a ray of light seeped through the curtains and hit my face.

The bright sunlight was in my eyes forcing me to squint. I rubbed my eyes and for a moment had
forgotten where I was and then I remembered, I was in India in my summer holidays 2001. I was on
holiday with my mum, brother and my little sister. The place we were living in India was in south India,
an area called Hyderabad.

The weather was scorching hot and I felt weak and dehydrated when ever we went out. When we walked
a sort distance it felt like we were walking a mile, every single journey felt like a prolonged expedition.

I was wondering what to wear because three of my aunts and cousins were coming over to our house, I
couldn't find anything and when I was about to give up a sky blue dress caught the corner of my eye and
as I pulled it out of the cupboard I gazed at it for a while and knew it was the right choice.

Everyone was home. My grandmother was living with us at the time, she had grown very old over the
years. I remembered that she used to have beautiful long thick grey hair and now most of her hair was
gone leaving her scalp half empty and she had her hair in a thin fragile plat running down her thin lean
hunchback. Her skin used to be nice and smooth but now full of wrinkles, which were scaly and crusty
looking, like the rigid scales on a reptile.

All the aunts had arrived with their children and we were all in the lounge having fun and telling jokes.
The lounge was full of life and lively but not all the family was there because we have a really big family
and I have not even met half of my family because whenever we go to India the rest of the family in other
parts of the world do not make the effort to reach India. Everyone was joking and cussing each other as
jokes. Suddenly the phone rang with unexpected and unwelcoming news my grandmother's sister in law
had passed away. I was in shock and because my grandmother was death and dumb we had to explain to
her in sign language. With the horrific news, she was completely tormented and disarrayed. She started to
panic and everyone called up the taxi and went to the house, where the death had taken place. I did not go
however, nor did my little sister and two or three of my cousins.

I did not expect that something like this would happen so abruptly and unexpectedly and at such an
instant I just sat down anticipating and awaiting the arrival of my mother and brother.

I used to call the women Mammy, she was a really generous, sweet-hearted lady and not that old, nasty
grisly bear like some people describe old folk. Her death was a mammoth shot to us all, especially as we
were all having so much fun we did not expect news of such a brutal nature. It was the only thing going
through my head while I was sitting waiting. I began to question my integrity, "what is my position in
life?" I began to ponder.

It was getting late and they had not returned the phone had rang and I received it, it was my mum
phoning from the house it wasn't that far, she said that she would be really late because there were many
people and many of the women's sons where in Dubai and America.

5
The next day I went to the house, I have been there several times before and when I got there the house
was packed full of people full of relatives. There were people there that I had never met before. I gave my
respects to my Uncle and I was feeling gloomy and miserable.

I went into a room where all the young teenagers were sitting all of them were roughly my age some
older and some younger but only by a few years. They were all cousins that I had never met before I was
excited and overjoyed to meet them all, they seemed pleasant and polite but they were not talking to me I
felt a bit left out but after a while they got used to me and started to talk we talked like we were old
relatives that knew each other since we were babies, I was really free with them and talked about
everything from sports to movies and other things but one appalling thing is that I cant keep in mind their
names. I found out that people in out family had long hands and fingers and I had observed that I had
inherited it from my family. After we sat and talked it felt like we were talking for a century I got up and
decided to serve food and tea to the people but there were a few people who didn't talk to me and I
thought they were right old sods.

It had been a long day and the time was roughly 1am mum had finally decided to go home and she had
also met her cousins after many decades she had grown up with them but they had all moved away.

The following day we went to their house again and I went up to the room where the girls were on one
side and the boys on the other side of the room they all welcomed me with pleasant warm smiled on their
faces and told me to sit down I confidently smiled back at them. After I sat down some of the people that
didn't talk to me the one day earlier were talking to me I got excited and enjoyed my time with them we
had water fights beat each other up and lots more. We were at a funeral but it didn't seem like it, it felt
more like we were at a family gathering after many years, the time I had spent with them was quality
time, worth valuing and I don't think that there can be another time like it.

ESSAY :5

It was a hot August night, and I couldn't get to sleep. That night was one that I would never be able to
forget for the rest of my life. It all started when I woke up from a terrible nightmare to find my best friend
Christopher, sprawled across the floor, having fallen from his bed. "Can't get to sleep either?" I asked
him.

"No, you as well?" came his reply. I got out of bed and made my way towards the door.

"Want to go for a walk?" I inquired.

"Yeah, why not," he replied. Electricity was buzzing through the air. That night was one that I would
never be able to forget for as long as I lived. It all started when I felt a fierce breeze and all the hairs on
the back of my neck pricked up. I heard a low rumbling sound. At first, I tried to ignore it and continue
walking, but then it grew more and more distinct. This unusual noise was coming from behind the house.
I felt the ground tremble beneath my very feet.

My first instinct was to cry, "EARTHQUAKE!" However, my mouth could not form the words. My
anxiety rose as the vibrations grew stronger and stronger. "Shall we go and check it out?" Christopher
asked. It seemed as though my legs moved of their own accord as I ran to the back of the house and
6
looked around. "Hey, wait for me," whispered Christopher. There was nothing on the ground. Suddenly
looking up, I spotted a colossal flying saucer the size of a football stadium, hurtling towards us at break-
neck speed.

"Christopher, look out!" I said, in a loud whisper. We ran for our lives and took refuge behind a nearby
drystone wall. We sat anxiously in anticipation of the crash and wondering what types of creatures would
emerge from the wreckage.

My heart pounded against the walls of my chest as we peered over the crumbling wall to watch the
action. Would we be the first ever human beings to see genuine alien life forms or was it just the vivid
imagination of two 14-year-old boys heightened by sleep derivation? However, there was no crash. The
spaceship had landed, smoothly and silently. A metal podium slid out of one of its sides. 'This is it,' I
thought to myself, as we shuddered behind the wall in anticipation.

A solitary figure emerged, shadowed by the darkness. It had a human shape, but as it came into the light,
I saw it was huge, enormous in fact. It wore a layer of heavy amour, black as the night, which shimmered
in the moonlight. It carried a peculiar looking weapon, as long as a hockey stick, and as thick as the wall I
was hiding behind. It also wore a black helmet, which shielded its face from view. I had never seen any
gear, weapon or armour of that sort before, and possibly no one in the entire history of man had either.
Christopher inquired, "Do you reckon he is the leader?"

I had guessed it was the leader, as it signalled intentionally towards the spacecraft and almost instantly,
more of its kind poured out. "There are hundreds of them!" I said, informing Christopher of the danger.
They all wore almost identical gear to their leader, except they wore cerulean blue helmets instead.

As they marched into position, Christopher asked, "What's that on their shoulders?" Just as I noticed an
emblem on all their weaponry, it was an eagle, noble and courageous. They continued to mobilize their
troops, as though inexhaustible. The thought that had never occurred to me was that they could have
come from the future.

As I sat, deep in thought, I realized they could have heat or motion sensors. In that case, we would be
discovered. Maybe they were waiting for us to make the first move. The leader signalled to one of his
fellow comrades, and then to the wall which concealed me from their sight. "I think he's spotted us!" I
cried. I tried to run, but my feet were rooted to the ground. The leader started walking in our direction
and then abruptly stopped beside me. I could not see its face as its helmet was tinted, but as I knew it was
as inquisitive about me as I was about it. All of a sudden, I felt the arctic metal of a firearm to the back of
my head. I heard the desperate cries of Christopher, suffering the same fate, as it viciously swung its
revolver at me and knocked me clean off my feet. I fell to the ground, knocked unconscious.

When I regained my senses, I found myself in a pitch-black room no bigger than a prison cell. As my
eyes were accustomed to the lack of light, I looked around. Christopher was nowhere to be seen. It was
virtually empty except for a small table, which lay broken in the corner of the room. I fumbled for the
door handle, but to my horror, there was none. There was a window on the door and I peered through it.
The corridor was lit up with neon lights and the walls were translucent silver. There were doors as far as
the eye could see all different shapes and sizes. There were square ones, circular ones, and even
7
triangular ones, all multi coloured.

One particular door caught my attention though. It was sort of rhombus shaped, coloured bright orange
with strange inscriptions wrote on it in black. 'What are these creatures?' I thought to myself. What
strange language were all these inscriptions from? Suddenly I heard the indistinguishable cries of
Christopher, screaming "Please, please don't hurt me, I'm begging you." The sounds of a drill or similar
appliance echoed through the chambers. Then silence.

As I got up, the lights immediately flicked on. I was not in a room after all, I had been held captive by
aliens in a laser force-field contrapment! Chances of escape looked minimal as I frantically shouted for
help, but to my dismay, none came. Maybe this was the end for me. What ill fate awaited Christopher?
Would I ever see him again? Would I ever see the earth again? Would I ever meet my family again? Or
was I doomed to spend eternity, rotting away in this laser-lined cell?

ESSAY 6

I awoke with someone shouting up to the window. I got out of bed and looked out to down below where I
could see Wullie and Rab. I glanced round to the clock and realised I had slept in on the day of the big
game. Rab shouted up that they would meet me on the bus.

I opened my wardrobe and pulled out the first tracksuit I could find. It looked relatively clean, so I ran
downstairs, getting dressed as I went. I bolted through to the kitchen, tripping over my black Labrador,
Novo, who seemed to be trying to get in my way, and I put two slices of bread in the toaster. I grabbed
my favourite pair of shoes, a pair of Henri Lloyd trainers which were starting to rip around the seams.
They had started off white, but were now turning a dingy shade of grey, showing their age. I prematurely
grabbed my toast from the toaster, before it had even started to brown, burning my hand in the process. I
picked up my phone and wallet off the counter and grabbed my ticket, which I had pinned to the notice
board for the last two weeks, so everybody who came into the kitchen would notice I had a front row
ticket to the Cup Final. As I ran to the back door, fumbling with my keys to try and opened the door, I
glanced in the mirror. I looked an absolute mess - My hair was all over the place, having had no time to
gel it, my head was through the sleeve of my Rangers shirt, and I had a black eye; a reminder of the brawl
outside Guru Nightclub the night before. As I opened the back door, I took a bite out of my toast, or more
relevantly, warm bread. Crumbs fell all over the kitchen floor, and they would just have to stay their until
mum got up and cleaned them or I got back, hopefully celebrating a momentous Scottish Cup victory for
Rangers.

I had been looking forward to this day for the whole season. Since seeing the draw Rangers had, I knew it
would take a serious upset to knock them out. I had been brought up supporting Rangers. My dad used to
take me to all their games. He worked as a fireman, six days a week, and was on call on Saturdays, so off
to Ibrox we would go. We even travelled to every away game Rangers played. I remember many years
ago, him getting called 15 minutes into a European Cup match, and dragging me away, despite my
complaining. Rangers went on to win 4-0 and I wasn't even there to see it. I never forgave my dad for
that. Since the accident, I've been to every match Ranger's have played. He was trampled under boots of
the Celtic supporters, after being caught in a riot between Rangers and Celtic supporters, eight years ago.
8
When I got to the bus station, I could see Wullie and Rab waiting anxiously, trying to hold up the bus.
"Made it," I panted, as I leaped up the steps, onto the coach. The journey to Hampden Park would take
twenty minutes if we were lucky with the traffic. We had half an hour till kick-off, so there was definitely
no time for the Pub before the match.

The bus pulled up outside Hampden, and we got off, all sprinting to the gate. I noticed a lack of people
outside the stadium. The match must be almost kicking off, which made me sprint even harder because I
knew they didn't let you in after kick-off. Wullie and Rab both got in and waited on the other side of the
turnstile for me. I handed my ticket to the steward, and he scanned it into the computer. He looked at the
screen and then looked up at me and delivered the bad news. "I'm sorry sir. You're too late." I knew there
was nothing he could do to let me in, despite begging from Wullie, Rab and myself, because the steward
needed to scan a valid ticket to open the gate.

I was gutted. This would be the first Rangers match I had missed since my dad died. I knew he would
have always wanted me to keep going to the matches, and I felt like I had let him down.

ESSAY 7

The Big Splash!

The soft wind whistled its melody in my ears, the sun shone brightly in my face as I skipped towards Bruce Castle
Park with my sister Daniella, my brother Marcell and my Daddy. My sister was eleven, my brother was ten and I
was seven, so I was the baby at the time. I was so excited to get into the park, I heard loads of screaming and
shouting babies, toddlers and children, I saw a long queue at the ice-cream van. All I wanted to do was get into the
park and join the fun. My sister, brother and I ran towards the park anticipating, leaving my dad strolling behind. I
pushed open the black shiny gate to get into the park and dragged my brother and sister with me. The first thing
that caught my eyes was the large swimming pool. There were plenty of children splashing, screaming and
shouting in there; they looked like they were really enjoying themselves. I wanted to go and join in. I ran towards
the fun, feeling excited. I heard my dad calling, but I ignored her because I wanted to get in the pool, even thought
I didn't have my swim suit. My dad called me and told me to go back over to him, I was angry because I was so
close to joining in the fun. As I walked towards my dad I kept on looking back at all the children enjoying
themselves in the pool. When I got over to my dad he simply told me to take my sister to the pool with me because
my brother and him were going to play football. My sister didn't want to play, so I agreed. Once again I made my
way over to the pool, it looked so colourful because of all the different coloured swim suits. I told my sister how
thrilled I was to go and play in the pool. She was also thrilled but explained to me that we could not get into the
pool because we had no swim suits and no change of clothes. I was disappointed but concurred without any choice.
We got to the pool and the atmosphere was great: loud, colourful and fun. All of the children were playing
together.

My sister and I looked at each other, grinned and hopped onto the inner pool edge, rolled up our trouser legs and
began to walk around the inner edge of the pool. Other children told us to get in, but we couldn't, so we explained
to them why, they were let down but accepted it. They were very nice and friendly children. Daniella and I wanted
to dip out feet in so we had to be really careful and dip only put feet in. The water was as cold as ice, and clear like
crystals, it felt so good. Daniella and I carried on walking around the inner edge of the pool. We were getting wet
because of the children splashing, but that was no worry, because the sun was blazing hot and our clothes would

9
dry in no time. I had a feeling that someone would pull us in or we would fall in, so I was careful with my every
step. My dad yelled to us to come over and have some snacks and juice, my sister and I rushed so we could get
back to the pool as soon as possible. We hurried back over to the pool as our new friends waited. Daniella and I
carried on playing on the inner pool edge, but I began to get bored so I had a fantastic idea. I explained it to my
new friends. The game was called bulldog. What you had do was my sister and I had to throw the ball and aim it at
the people in the pool. Whoever it hit had to come on our team and help get the people in the pool out, leaving a
winner.

The game began and we were all enjoying it, Daniella and I were really skilled at getting people out. Round 1 of
water bulldog had finished, so we decided to play Round 2. We had to be careful because the inner edge of the
pool was socking wet. I aimed the ball at one of my friends in the pool and got him out, so he had to come and join
my sister and I. My friend in the pool threw the ball to me but it was a short throw, so I tried to stretch and catch
the ball, I felt myself stumble so I grabbed onto Daniella and we both fell into the pool and made a big splash! My
sister and I looked at each other and exploded with laughter, it was like a laughing fit, we could not stop laughing.
The water was freezing cold, I could feel my goose pimples rising all over my body. I struggled to get out of the
pool as my clothes were dripping wet and dragging me back down into the pool. When I finally got out I helped
my sister to get out as she was struggling too. We had to go and tell my dad what had happened, neither of us knew
if he was going to shout or laugh, so we walked over in suspense.

Daniella and I held each others hands tight as we left our footprints behind us. When we got to our dad and brother
Marcell they were in stitches before we could tell our story. My sister and I were relieved. Dad asked us what
happened so we both took it in turns to explain. They both kept teasing us after we had told them; it didn't bother
us because we found it funny too.

The sun was still sizzling hot like sausages on the fire, so my sister and I decided to lay down on the bright green
grass and try and get our clothes dry. We laid there for approximately thirty minutes but our clothes didn't seem to
be drying quick enough, so we told our dad that we were bored and wanted to go home., so we did. Because, out
clothes were still wet Daniella had to wear my dad's vest, and I had to wear his t-shirt on the way home. They
looked like dresses because they were down to our ankles, but it looked cute. Once again the giggles began, what
an excellent end to a great day out.

ESSAY 8

An Important Event

It was July the fifteenth 1991 on a normal school day and it was time for me to wake up in order to get
ready for nursery. My mum entered my room and whipped open my bedroom curtains. A bright beam of
morning light lit up my room; due to the brightness it was difficult for me to see.

I sat up still in my bed covers; my mum approached me and knelt down beside my bed.

''Yah lah'' my mum said speaking in Arabic. She was telling me to 'Come on'.

''Get up, you need to get ready for nursery.''

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''Ok,'' I replied.

Following my mum as she left my room, I swung my legs around to the side of the bed so that they were
hanging off. I stretched out my arms and legs as I would have done every morning whilst waking up.
With the tiredness overtaking my body, I dragged myself to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Having had a
refreshing shower I felt much more awake and the tiredness had suddenly faded away.

As I approached the kitchen door I could hear the sizzling of frying eggs and could smell the familiar
scent of burnt toast. I looked into the kitchen and there she was, my mum preparing breakfast for me.
Laid out to perfection was a plate of fried eggs, baked beans with a slice of buttered toast on top. Also
placed beside the plate was a glass of fresh orange juice.

That morning I thoroughly enjoyed my breakfast.

''Thank you mummy!'' I shouted. I wanted to let my mum know that I enjoyed the breakfast she had
prepared for me. I had to shout louder than usual as she was watching the morning television news in the
living room.

''You are welcome "wil di.'' 'wil di' means 'my son' in Arabic. I then smiled; I remember particularly
content at that moment.

Having had a fulfilling breakfast I then started to get ready for nursery. I pulled on my clothes and got my
packed lunch ready. In those days it really wasn't safe for children to walk by themselves in the area
which we resided. Therefore, I was walked to and from school everyday by my dad. I enjoyed the walks a
lot as I remember passing a shop and pleading to my dad to get me sweets. More times that not he would
give in.

Distracted by my brand new red and blue trainers which my mum had brought for me the day before, I
didn't rush to put them on. Treasuring every moment I spent with them, I took my time slowly putting
them on. On that day I also wore clothes that matched my trainers, a red and blue jumper and blue jeans.
Eventually I finished getting ready and my dad took hold of my hand and we left.

In comparison with many of the other children who had to travel long distances to get to school I counted
myself lucky. It usually took me less than two minutes to get to school. When I was feeling particularly
energetic it took even less time. As me and my dad approached the school gates it was time for him to let
me go. I was now left to run wild in the world of adventure that was the school playground.

"Badruddin behave yourself and be a good boy. I will pick you up when you finish, ok?'' This was the
same thing he had said everyday, and each day I listened carefully even though I knew what was
coming.

"Ok,'' I replied. I then impatiently left my dad and ran through the school gates.

I couldn't hold back the excitement; all I wanted to do was to just get in there and start playing.

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I had many friends at the nursery and considered myself to be quite popular. However, I only considered
two to be my best friends. I would always hang around and play countless numbers of different games
with them. One day it was football the next hide and seek. One was called Zoweb, he was from Pakistan,
and the other was Yasin who was Mauritian. Out of the two I was particularly close to Yasin; he seemed
to understand me, liked all the things that I liked and we generally got along the most. Regularly, me,
Zoweb and Yasin would pretend to be characters from comic books or cartoons that come on television,
we sometimes went as far as to make them up ourselves. Most of the time Zoweb would be batman,
Yasin a made up character that had immense strength and I would act out to be superman.

Time flew by and before I knew it lunch time had arrived. I hurriedly ran to the school gates, not
stopping to catch my breath. Every lunch break my mother would pick me up in order to take me home
so I could eat there. At that particular moment I remember being extremely hungry; all I could think
about was getting home and consuming one of my mums delicious home cooked meals. As I approached
the gates I was thrilled to see her standing there with the warm smile she still possesses till this day. I
suddenly felt a boost of energy so I ran towards her. I was running so fast that I was whizzing past all the
school kids like a bullet and I could feel the warm summer breeze blowing against my face.

''Mummy!'' I shouted from the top of my lungs.

''Hello wil di'' said my mum as I jumped on her giving her the tight, warm hug.

''Yah lah, lets go home'' she continued.

''O-K!'' I replied breathlessly.

When I finally got to my front door I could smell the food that my mum had prepared for us. Whilst
imagining the luxurious taste of my mum's food, my mouth started to water. I licked my lips and started
to jump impatiently. I struggled a bit while carefully yet quickly took off my new trainers. I then
remember running through the big white wooden door, which was characterised by a silver letter box and
plate that had our door number engraved onto it.

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