HOTSOFF THE PRESS 2012

This is a magazine containing contributions from children and young people being taught by Edinburgh’s Hospital and Outreach Teaching Service.

These children and young people might be:

• intheRoyalHospitalforSickChildren• intheSchoolroom,CAMHS,Tipperlinn• LookedAfter(andAccommodated)• Gypsy/Traveller/Roma• excludedfromschool• taughtathomeduetotheirmedicalcondition• taughtinoneofourEducationGroups• partoftheYoungMums’Unit

We hope you enjoy the magazine. Any feedback is always welcome.

Thankyouandwelldonetoallourcontributors.

“Briiing,briiing.”Thepainfulscreechofthealarmclockshrillyshrieked.Itscreamedthroughouttheapartment.Itcontinued to echo around the silentrooms,refusingtogiveupuntilithadbeenheard.

Inoneroomawomanstirredinhercoldbed.Shethrewherduvetfromherandthrustherarmsovertheedgeofthemattress,handsearchingblindlyforthealarmclock.Herhandsfellonneglecteddinnerdishes,coldcupsofteaandafullashtray.Shefoundthealarmclockandturneditoff.Thiswasherlongweekend.

Shethrewherselfbackontothebedandlovinglywrappedherarmsaroundherhusband.Shepressedher ear to his stony chest and closedhereyesforashortmoment listening to her silent apartment.Sheopenedhereyes once more and glanced abouttheshadowyroom.Adim,greylightwascastacrosstheroom,fromthewindow,illuminating the used dishes laid in odd piles and the couplelyingawkwardlyuponthebed.Itwasraining;raintappedagainstthewindowpaneliketinyfingers.

Decidingthatitwouldbefoolishtolieinbedforan entire day the young womanclimbedoutofbed,untanglingherselffromthewhitesheetsthatwrappedaroundherlikeatoga.

“Whatwouldyoulikeforbreakfastdarling…orI

suppose,lunchnow?”sheaskedsweetly.

Noreply.

“Whataboutpancakes,ortoastandcoffee?Okthendon’tanswermeandIwilljustmakepancakesformyself,”shejestedandthrewapillowathersilenthusband.Shegiggledandlefttheroom,headingdownthelonghallwaytowardthekitchen.Adeadly silence occupied the apartment.Nosoundcarriedfromtheirneighbours,aboveorbelow.Eventhemuffledsoundsofthewife’sfootstepswerelikesilentwhispersatafuneral.

DisasterStoryThe Long Weekend

by Eve Watson

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Thehousewascold,deadcold.Theyoungwomanshouldhavebeenshiveringslightlyasshewalkedinbarefeetacrossthecoldkitchentiles,poppingstaleslicesofbreadinthetoasterandrummagingincupboardsforcoffeegranules.Shetooknonotice and simply began to humhappilyassheworked.

Intheotherroomacockroachscuttledacrossthedarkfloorboards,tohopefullyinspectsomestale,week-oldpancakes.Itwassmallandinsignificantinthestillroom;itmighthavebeentheonlylivingthingformiles.Itscuttledabouttheplates.Intheotherroomthewomanletoutafewviolentcoughsthatechoedthroughthehouse.The husband remained still andutterlyquiet.

Inthekitchenthewomantappedherfootuponthecoldtileswaitingforthetoasttobrown.Shecontinuedtohumtunelessly.

“OhIalmostforgot,thepaper,”startedthewoman.Sheleftthekitchentowalktothefrontdoor.Shereacheddowntopickupthepaper.Sheflickedcasuallythroughtheblackandwhitecontentsandthenpausedtostareattheheadline.Itread:“Deadlyepidemicspreadsacrosscountry”.Shestaredforafewminutes,almosttakingintheprintedwords.Hersmilefalteredforafewseconds.Therewasasudden“pop!”thatcamefromthekitchen.Thewoman

torehereyesawayfromtheheadlineandshookherself.Thesuddenrushofrealisationpostponedforanotherdayasthewifetossedthedatedpaperbacktothefloor.Thewomanwenttocollectthebreadfromthetoaster.Shepickedthebutterfromthefridgeandstaredinattherefrigerator.Itlookedbareandempty.Likeeverythinginthehouse,itsufferedrecentneglect.

Thewomansuddenlygaveaviolentcoughthatlastedseverallongsecondsthendoubledoverinpaincoughingandretching.Shegrabbedhersidesasshetrembledwiththeforceofeachcough.Afterthisbriefcoughingfitsheraisedonebonyhandtowipehermouth.Sheshookherselfandcontinuedasifshehadsimplyletoutatinyhiccup.

Shebutteredhertoast,whichwasfleckedwithspotsofgreymould,andmadeherwaybacktothebedroom.

Her husband’s skin was pale and

pasty and his hand which brushed her cheek slightly had

no grip.

Shegreetedherhusbandwithawidegrin.Helaystill,hiswifeproppedhimupagainstthebedpost,withsomeeffortshesucceeded.Shethenplacedthehotplateonhisfrontandclimbedinto

bedwithhimoncemore,liftingoneofhisstiffarms.Itdangledawkwardlyaroundhershoulder.Herhusband’sskinwaspaleandpastyandhishandwhichbrushedhercheekslightlyhadnogrip.Thewifecontinuedtoignoretheseabnormalities and simply reachedforapieceoftoastfromtheplatebalancedonherpartner’sunresponsivechest.

Sheimaginedthathisgripwastightonherandthathewasholdingherandmakinghersafe.Thathewasaliveandhealthyandthathiswarmbody and steady heartbeat wasclosetoherown.Thewifefoundthesethoughtscomforting,thoughnoneofthemremainedtrue.

Ifshehadcontinuedtoreadthenewspaperarticlewhichlayinherhallwayandwasabletocomprehendthenewsitdisplayedshewouldhaveread“…anoutbreakofadeadlydiseasethatspreadsquicklyandmoreextensivelyacrossthecountry,theepidemicsweepsoverthehousesandhomesofBritain…aquarantinehasbeencalled…nohopeofsurvivaltothosesuffering“.Butshecouldnotcomprehend.Itwassimpletocontinuewitheverydaylife.Itwaseasyinfact,toliveinherapartmentindenial,theirlittlepatchofheaven.Itwasnotpossibletocopewiththedeathofherdearone,herhusband,theonesherefusedtolivewithout.

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How to Make a 3D Card by DC and MC

You need two sheets of card.

Fold them in half.

Draw lines on the folded edge of one folded card – picture 1.

Cut carefully along the solid lines.

Fold back and forward along the dotted lines – picture 2.

Lay the card flat and colour your card.

Lift the card and push out the ‘steps’.

Glue the two cards together – picture 3.

Glue your own pictures to the front of the ‘steps’.

Decorate as you wish.

Your card is finished!

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IstartedwithHOTSinP7theyearbeforeIwenttoBalernoHighSchool.IhadmissedoutonfouryearsofprimaryschoolandHOTShelpedmecatchup,sothatIwasable to attend high school knowingwhatwasgoingonandmanagingthework.WhenBalerno had the induction days,theMathsteachersetatargetandImanagedtodomore questions than anyone elseintheclass,andIgotthemallcorrect.Thewholeclassturnedroundandlookedatmewithdisbelief!

Ihadlotsofdifficultiesfromthestartofhighschool.Iwasn’tabletostartuntillateOctoberbecauseIhadtowait

forequipmentsuchashoists,slingsandotherextrastobeinplace.DuringthistimetheHOTSteachersmanagedtohelpmekeepupwithEnglishMathsandGermanwork,sothatIonlyhadtocatchuponothersubjects.BecauseIgetbadbackpainsittingupinmychairtoolong,Iwasneverabletoattendschoolfulltime,somyoutreachteacherscame out to the house three timesaweek.Despitealltheseproblems,IwasreallypleasedtogetsevenspecialcertificatesinS1and2.

Icontinuedtomissquitealotofschoolastheyearswenton.InS3Ihadgrownoutofmywheelchairandittook

about5monthsforittobeadjusted.During5thyearIwasoffbecausetheschoolliftwasbrokenandtookoveramonthtogetfixed.Ialsomissed some time due to quitefrequentillness.WhenIhadtheseproblems,HOTShelpedmeoutofschoolandBalernoSupportforLearningDepartment helped me catch upinschool.SoIwasabletopassMaths,EnglishGermanandGeographyStandardGrades,andinmylastyearIpassedIntermediate1MediaandIntermediate2Maths(withanApass!)

MymostmemorabledaywasthedayoftheBalernoLeavers’Ceremony,whenIgotTheCurrie,BalernoandDistrictRoundTablesilvertrophy,anawardforexcellence.IalsowonanOscarwhichsaidthatIhad“displayedgreatstrengthofcharacter and determination indealingwithconsiderablechallenges”.Iwassurprisedandoverwhelmedtogetthesetwoawards,andIamveryproudthatIwasabletoattendschoolandpleasedthatIgotthesupporttomakethebestofit.

MyEducation by Steven Bangham

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Alone by Naomi Smith

Sheshiveredandherteethchattered as yet another gustoficycoolwindblewinherdirection.Theentirehousewascold.Coldandabandoned,justlikeher.Annaraised her head to peer out the windowfromhercross-leggedpositiononthefloor,inthefarcorneroftheroom.Directlyopposite she could see the windowwithitsfracturedpanesandtheshatteredglass.Aonceimmaculateivorynetcurtaintraileddirtyandfrayedalongthefloor.Outofthewindowlittlecouldbeseenforthenightwasdarkandthevastareasurroundingtheoldfarmhousewasemptyandlifelessformilesaround.

Forayounggirltobeleftaloneinanemptyhouse,onewouldhaveexpectedAnnatobescared.Onewouldexpecthertobelongingforacomfort.Buttwelveyear-oldAnnawasnotscared,shesimplyfeltdetachedandconfused.Asshesatinthehouse that once used to be herhome,shefeltanachinglongingforwhatusedtobe.The room she sat in once belonged to her mother and father.Itwouldnolongerberecognisableastheirs,forthedirt and mirror shards that weresprinkledalloverthefloor.Howeverthelargeoakbed still sat proudly in the

centreoftheroomandapileoflogsstillsatneatlyinplacenexttothefire.Hermother’sdresserlayoverturnedonthefloor,nearwhereAnnasat.

Ifastrangerhadwalkedintothishousetheywouldhaveknownthatwhoeveroncelivedherehadbeenforcedtoleavewithsomeurgency.Theywouldalsonoticetheteapot,half-fullcupsandplateofnow-inediblebiscuitsthatstill lay on the dining room table.Half-packedsuitcasescouldbefoundwithinalmosteverybedroominthehouse.Anescapeseemedtobeimminent,buttimewasstolenandjustlikeAnna’sfamily,wasnowlost.

Annamadeherwaythroughthelonghallwayfortheseventhtimethathour.With each step she tried to regainamemoryfromwheneverythingwasnormalandofthetimewhen,atanygivenmoment she could retreat backintothesafelulloffamilyandhome.Shecouldn’trememberexactlywhenthatwasbecauseeversincethattime the days and nights had mergedintooneandtoAnnatherestoftheworldwasdead.Shedidn’tcareaboutwhatmaybehappeningoutwithherownsituation.

Shestoodattheendofthelongnarrowhallway,onceanareaoflaughterandfun.NowitfelttoAnna,likeaforeignenvironment,enclosedandclaustrophobic.Itdidhoweverstillserveitspurposeandled

Annaontoherbedroomontheleftandabathroomtotheright.Betweenthesetwodoorwayswasalargewindow,bigenoughforafully-grownmantofitcomfortablywithinthestrongoakframe.Fromoutofthiswindowcouldbeseentheentirestretchoflandinfrontofthehouseandduringthedayaviewofglorioussnow-tippedhillsroseinthedistance.Itwasbeautifulintheclearlightofday,butduringthenightAnna’sthoughtswereshrouded by troublesome fearsofwhatlayputthere.Yetinmanywaysithadbeenthe isolated landscape that hadprotectedAnna’sfamilyforsolong.NowthatAnnawasalone,shecouldn’tevenbegin to contemplate the possibilities that surrounded her.

Peeringdownfromthewindow,theentrancetothehousecouldbeseen.FromtheoutsideitlookedtoAnnaasitalwayshad,apartfromthelargeSwastikaflagthathunginthedoorway.Annaknewthatherfatherwouldhavefeltsoashamedtoseeit.Hewasawonderfullykindandlovingman,butthelookthathadappearedinhiseyeseverytime‘Nazis’werementionedletAnnaknowthattheonly

truehatredinhisheartwaspurelyforthem.

ItwastoolateforAnnatothinkaboutallofthatnow.

Anna’sfatherwasgoneaswerehermotherandthreeelderbrothers.WhatAnnahadtoworryaboutwaswhereherfamilycouldbeandwhytheyweretakingsolong.Ithadfeltlikeaneternitysofar.Shewonderediftheywouldeverreturn to her as her mother hadpromised.Asshethoughtofthelastfewsecondssharedbetweenthembeforetheyhadparted she could almost smell hermother’sperfumeandfeelhercoolskinasshereleasedAnna’shandfromhergraspandwhispered,“We’llbebacksoonAnna,Ipromise.”

AnhourbeforetheGestapohadarrivedAnna’smotherhadgivenherclearinstructions,“Stayathome,staysafeandkeephidden.Godwillbewithyouandprotectyouuntilourreturn.”Annaknewthatnomatterhowlongittookfortheirreturnshewouldnevergiveuponthem.Shewouldwaitforever.

Ashereyesgrewheavyandtired,Annaretreatedtoherbedroomwhereshekneltbeforeherbed,litherShabbatandprayedtoGodasshedideverynight.Shethenslippedunderneath her bed into the safenestshehadcreatedforherselftogetsomerestandanticipatewhattomorrowmaybring.

Barge DearCaptainandCrew,

I’mwritingthislettertosaythanksforthewonderfulbargetripyoutookmeonbeforeChristmas.ItwasafundayandIreallyenjoyedmyselfespeciallywhenSantadroppedin.Itwasalsoquiteexcitingwhenthebargegotblownagainstthebank,andhadtobepushedoffusingalongpole.Thankyouagainformakingitsuchapleasantday.

Ihopeonedaytosailwithyouonthebargeagain.

Omar

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JustbeforeChristmassomeofouryoungpeopleproducedashortanimatedfilm.Theywrotethescript,constructedtheset,madeplasticinemodels,filmed,addedsoundandedited.

Thisisthesonnetwhichintroducedthefilm.

The Credit Crunch Christmas by Xavi Laird

It’s the news at ten and my name’s Trevor Scott.

The credit crunch is really hitting here.

Many families do not have a lot

Of money as Christmas time is drawing near.

The household and home of Elle and Bob –

Two loving parents to young Jack and Jade

Unfairness and fate cost poor Bob his Job

As all spirit and confidence begins to fade

Listening in to his mum and dad talk, Jack

Seeks Santa’s help to save misery and tears

So Santa sends elves to fill up his sack

To save Jack’s generation from horror and fear

The thoughts and the faith of a boy who is ten

Won over the hearts of two merry elf men.

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SinceIcameintohospital,Ihavebeenusingtheteacher’sipadtohelpmewithmywork.IhavepushedmymumtobuymemyownipadforChristmasbecauseIthoughtitwasagoodpieceoftechnologyforschoolandforfun.IhaveusedanumberofappsbutthisreviewisabouttwoIhavefoundparticularlyuseful.

MathsExpertandABMathsaremyfavouriteeducationalapps.MathsExperthelpsmelearnandimprovemytables,additionandsubtraction.Theimagesspinandmoveonthescreen as you try to calculate theanswersfromlowesttohighest.Mymentaladdition,subtraction and times tables arebenefitingbecausethereisalimitedamountoftimeto

gettheanswersandthatforcesmetothinkhardandquickly.Thisgamereinforcesmytablesknowledgeandmyadditionandsubtractionbonds.

The sounds are very clear and it makes different

noises depending on whether I’ve got the answer right or

wrong.

Iparticularlylikepuzzlesandbecauseofthis,Ifindthisappalotoffunbutchallenging.ThesoundsareveryclearanditmakesdifferentnoisesdependingonwhetherI’vegottheanswerrightorwrong.Iwouldscorethisapp9.5/10

ABMathsismoreorlessthesameasMathsExpertbutitisdesignedmoreforchildrenwhoarelessconfidentwiththeirmaths.Itgivesyouchoicesofwhichtypeofcalculationyouwanttouseandinparticular,withtimestables,youcanchoosewhichtableyouwanttoworkwith.Youcaneitherhaveachoiceoffourpossibleanswerssoyoucanseewhichoneisthemostlikelyoryoucanopttokeyintheansweryourself,whichiswhatIprefertodo.

It’snotaschallengingasMathsExpertbutitstillhelpsmewithmymentalmathsbecause there is a time limit onthisgameaswell.

Iwouldscorethisapp9/10.

ipadAppReview By Louis Hainsworth

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Onthe23September2007IwasamascotforHibswhentheywereagainstCelticatEasterRoad.Iwentupanhourandahalfbeforekickoff.WhenIgotthereIwasfullofexcitement.Theeducation organiser met us andstartedthetour.AssoonasIopenedthedoublegreendoorstobeginthetourIsawmyfavouriteplayerScottBrown.HewasaCelticplayerbutheusedtoplayforHibs.Icouldn’tbelieveitIwassohappyandexcited.

Thetourbeganwiththeinterviewroom.ThiswastheroomwherealltheTVinterviewingwasdone.Itwassosmallandsimple.AllthatwasintheroomwasaTV,anadvertisingwall,onecameraandabottleofchampagne.Itwasassmallasmybathroom;Iwasexpectingsomethingcompletelydifferent.We

movedonintothebootroom.Alltheplayers’footballbootswerehere.Theremusthavebeenaboutthirtypairsofbootsandallofthemwerestinkingofmuck.Therewereverynicepairsinthereandsome huge ones and some smallones.

Afterthatwewenttoseethedressingroom.WhenwegotthereIgotasurprise.Itwasamess!Trainerswereallovertheplaceandtherewerejumpers,tops,trousers,andsockseverywhereaswell.Allthematchdaytopswerehanginguponthewall.Ihadmypicturetakenbesideallmyfavouriteplayers’tops.Atthebackofthedressingroomtherewasallthebaths,showersandtoilets.Thereweretenbathsandfifteenshowers.Itwasverynoisybecausetheradiowasonfullblast!Themanager,JohnCollinsandgoalkeeper,Makalambiecameintothedressingroom.Theyhadphotostakenwithusandspoketous.JohnCollinsshowedushisoffice.Ithadniceluxuryfurnitureandahuge50inchTV.Imovedontothedugoutswherethemanagerandsubstitutessit.

Itfeltweirdseeingthepitchfromthatview.Isatinthedugouts and had my picture takenwithmyMum,DadandGran.Ialsosatinthefourthofficial’sseat.

“ThisistheballthatStevenFletcherwillscorewith.”

Itwasn’tlonguntilkickoff.Iwaitedinthetunnelfortheplayerstogetready.IwasreallyexcitedandIcouldn’twaittogoontothepitch.Finally the players came out andIlinedupinthetunnel.TheCelticcaptainStevenMcManusshookmyhandandwishedmegoodluckandIrepliedbackbysaying“Youwillbetheonethatneedstheluck.”Hejustlaughedback.TherefereeletmeholdtheballandIbounceditandsaid“ThisistheballthatStevenFletcherwillscorewith.”TheHibscaptainRobJonestookmyhandandledmeontothepitch.Thenoisewastremendous,allfourstandsupandsinging,clappingtheirhands.RobJonesletgoofmyhand and ran to the corner flagtogreetthefans.Irantothecentrecirclemyself.Itfeltamazing,likeIwasaHibsplayermyself.RobJonescamebackandshookhandswiththeCelticcaptainandreferee.Therefereetosseda£1cointoseewhogotkickoffandaftergavemethepoundcoin.IgotmypicturetakenwithRobJones,StevenMcManus,therefereeandtwolinesmen.AfterwardsIranbacktothetunnel absolutely thrilled to bits.

AMascotforHibs!

by Liam Watson

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Atlastthegamestarted.Hibsstarted great they chased everythingandgaveCelticnotimeontheball.ThefirstchancebroughtthefirstgoalanditwasaHibsgoal.StevenFletcherfromaboutthirty yards out hit a poor shotbutCeltickeeperArthurBoruc let the ball through his legs.Thestadiumerupted.IthoughtitwasArthur’sSeaterupting!WhatIsaidactuallyhappened,StevenFletcherscoredwiththeballIhadbounced.ThegamemovedonandCelticlevelled.OnthestrokeofhalftimeHibsscoredasecondgoal.Theplacewentevenwilderasitwasabrilliantindividualgoalbytherightback.Intothesecondhalfandthegamechanged.SuddenlyCelticwerealloverHibsandequalisedforasecondtime.ThestadiumwassilencedapartfromtheCelticend.AsthegamewentonIthoughtCelticweregoingtowinbutin the last ten minutes a shotfromDeanSheilswasspilledagainbytheCelticgoalkeeper.Icouldn’tbelieveit,Hibswerewinningaftertheirpoorperformanceinthesecondhalf.ThatwasitCelticcouldn’tequaliseforathirdtimeandHibswon3–2.Igaveahugesighofrelief.

Itwastheendofmyspecialday.Everythingwentperfectly.Thescoremadeitevenbetter;itreallywastheicingonthecake.IfeltsoluckythatIwaspickedtobeamascotforHibs.IfeltreallyhappyandIwillrememberitasoneofthebestdaysofmylife.

The Black Sonnet By Calum Baxter

Bullies.Grief.LoveLost.Workload.Time.Sadness.

Blackthoughts,behindmyback,caughtupwithme,

Tormentingme,Ijustcouldnotbreakfree.

ThetruthisIhadsuffered,Iconfess

Mylife,muchlikemyroom,itwasamess.

Churchill’sBlackDogwouldnotheel,Icouldsee

Noend.Nolight.Nowhereformetobe–

ExceptinmyownmadeupworldIguess.

Thelongroadtorecovery,likechess,

Logicandcarefulplanningisthekey.

Withsupportfromothers,Icouldbewe.

Thisismygoal,thelongroadtosuccess,

Ineededthehelpandweallagreed,

ThatChurchill’sBlackDogisnowonalead.

My article is about some of the activities that we do in the HOTS group… SomeoftheHOTSteachersand pupils got the chance to trysomethingdifferentbygoing out on a boat on the UnioncanalbeforeChristmas.

TheSantacruisewasofferedby a charity called “The SeagullTrust”.TheSeagulltrustprovidesfreecanalcruisesforgroupsofchildrenandadultsofanyage.

TheboatleftfromtheEdinburghCanalCentreinRathoandtravelledtowardstheAlmondAqueduct.Whenwe

gotontheboatwewereofferedteaandjuiceandhadaquizwhereyouweregivenasheetofpaperandyouweretolookoutforcartooncharactersthatwerealongthebankoftheCanalandwritetheirnamesdown.

Everyonegotthechancetosteertheboatandwenarrowlyavoidedgettingstuck.Wehad

FunStuff by Cherie Warrender

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touseametalpole(bargepole)topushtheboatawayfromthesideastheboatgottooclosetotheedge.SantacameonboardbutitwasonlyScottdressedup.(Obviously).EachofthepupilsgotapresentfromSanta(Scott)ontheboat.ItwasmorefunthatIthoughtitwouldbeandwearethinkingaboutgoingbackinthesummer.

AnotheractivitywedidbeforeChristmaswascardmaking.Wehadblankcardsand decorated them using a techniquecalleddecoupage.

I have started to make extra cards in my own time

and I have earned some money by selling them at

£1.50 each.

Thisiswhenyouhaveapicture that you build up usingdoublesidedstickyfoampads.Afteryoubuilditallupitlooks3D.Imadecardsforfamilyandfriendsandtheyreallylikedthem.IhavestartedtomakeextracardsinmyowntimeandIhaveearned some money by selling themat£1.50each.

IthasbeenalotoffungettingchancestodothingsIhavenevereventhoughtaboutdoingbeforeandIenjoyeditmorethantheusuallessons.

Jordan wrote this for a competition run by Radio Lollipop in the Royal Hospital for Sick Children. He won first prize – tickets to see Jeff Kinney, author of the highly successful “Diary of a Wimpy Kid”.

Dear DiaryIhavehadthemostamazingday–thedayIwasduebackintohospital.

ItwasasunnyafternoonandmymumandherboyfriendScotttookmetothedrivingrangeatSt.Andrews–‘TheHomeofGolf’.Ihitsomeballsthenwedecidedtohaveagoonthepitchandputtoutside.Itwasveryquiet,justmum,Scottandme.Oh!andoneotherfamily.

AswegotcloserScottrealisedthefatheroftheotherfamilywastheoneandonlyColinMontgomerie!(AtthispointIwasinthebunkersoIdidn’tknow.)ScottapproachedColinandwentonabouthowmuchIlovegolfandthatColinwasmyidol,whileIwastryingtogetoutofthebunker.Icouldn’tgetoutbutIglimpsedScottandColinwalkingoverinmydirectionoutofthecornerofmyeye.

JustastheyreachedmeIgotoneballoutandrightnexttothehole.Colinsaw!Hecameovertome,said“Hi,”andshookmyhand.

“Youhavemassivehands,”Itoldhim.

Helaughed.“Thesebunkersaremuchhigherthantheoneswegetontour.Youmustbequitegoodifyoucangetoutofthese.Youwillhavenoproblemifyougetonthetourwhenyouareolder.”

Scottfeltwelljealousbecausehedidn’tgettoshakeColin’shandandhejustspoketome.

ColinwishedmewellandtoldmethathewouldcomeandgivemeapitchandputtcompetitionwhenIgotoutofhospital.Igotmypicturetakenwithhim.Itisnowlaminatedandstuckonmywall.

Jordan Laing

Animal Haikus

by Callum McIntyre

BeaverA busy builderAnd a woodcutter as wellNever leaves his work

FerretPink eyes, cream bodyChasing down rabbits for menBred from the polecat

WolfThere’s one to the rightHowling loudly in the woodsI hope he has food

CentipedeSuch a lot of legsHis name means one hundred feetBut I’m not so sure

Eden’s Haikus

Wonderwhatit’slike,Inside,outside,upsidedown,Aflyonawall

Scarecrowscan’twalk,Scare-Crowscan’ttalk.Scarecrowsdon’thaveBeatinghearts.Shortstraw.

They’retrapped,teethbaring,Crazyeyesstaring–pleading?AnimalsinZoos.

Timeisn’tpassingButIalwayswatchtheclockHopingitwilltock

EverybodywantsTobesoAmerican–Whatiswrongwithus?

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IlikebeingatravellingShowmanbecauseImeetpeopleandseelotsofthings.We’rejustlikenormalpeopleexceptthatwetravelsometimes,usuallyfromAprilthroughtoOctober.MostTravellersaregoodatmathsbecausewehelpwiththerides.It’shardbeingatravellingShowmansometimesbecauseIhavetospendalotoftimeinthe

Every year Edinburgh welcomes visits from the ‘shows’, a travelling fairground which brings colour and excitement to the city. Behind the scenes of the music and the bright lights are the families who run them, families who enjoy a long history of travelling across Scotland’s towns and cities. Over the winter the Showmen and their families settle in one place, spending their time repairing and restoring their rides to pristine condition ready for the new season’s work. During that time, the children attend a local school but when travelling begins, usually around the end of March until the end of October, the children have to be home schooled using the pack of work their class teacher prepares for them. If the fair arrives in Edinburgh during term time, every effort is made to contact the families and arrange a visit to their ‘wagon’ (caravan) to help the children with their work. This additional teaching is very much welcomed by the families. The following articles are from two of the ‘show’ children who were in Edinburgh in May last year.

Being a TravellingShowman

1717

car.Onetimeitwas10hours!SometimesIgetpickedonbutIneverletitgetmedown.Butthentherearegoodtimes.IgettomeetupwithfriendsonthefairgroundthatIhaven’tseen since the last year and that’swhyIlikebeingatravellingShowman.

Nina Slater

MynameisDiorSlaterandIamsevenyearsoldandIliveonafunfair.MyfamilyareShowpeople.IhavearidecalledAMiami.Itgoeshighintheskyroundincircles.MydaddywatchestherideandIsometimeshelpandtalkonthemike.MymammyhasaGhostTrain.IlovetravellingandIliveinabigwagon.

Dior Slater

BlueBlue is the seaWith big loud wavesBlue is the skyAbove us all around the worldBlue is the denimThe colour of jeansBlue is the bagThat carries my school booksBlue is the colour Of my brother’s roomBlue is the blanketSo soft and warmBlue is the bellsOn the blossoming flowersBlue is the berriesSo juicy and sweetBLUE By Nina Slater, age 10. Fairground Traveller

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Itwasstillearlymorningand the sun had hidden its facebehindalightblanketofclouds.Naturewassilent.Thetallbeechtreesgaveasmall groan as a gentle breeze whistledthroughtheirbrightgreenleavescausingthetreestogivealoudechoingcreakallthroughtheforest.Isteppeddownthelaststepandplacedafootintotheearthysoilattheentranceoftheforest.

Iwascautious;theearlymorningmistlurkedaroundthefloorofthewoods.Itseemedtogoonformilesahead.

IreacheddownandletmydogTaraslowlyofftheleadand at that moment she didn’thesitateforasecond-sheboundedaheadofmegallopingoverleavesandsnappingfallenbranches.Andatthatverysecondtheforestsuddenlyawokeandcameintolife.Birdswhistledandsung,flowerscameintobloomrabbits and squirrels came outofhidingandscamperedalongtheforestfloor.

IwaswalkingthroughtheforesttothesoundsofnatureandIwasnolongerathreattotheforestbutafriend.

Asmallburntrickledpastmecontaining many small shoals offishandbrightlycolouredstoneswithinthewater.ThenTara raised her curious head andpickedupherearswithexcitement,hertailbeatingfrantically.IraisedmyheadtoseetheexittotheforestwasaheadofusandthenIknewwewouldbeclosetomyfavouritehillinthewholeofEarlston.

IgaveTaraaracebutIknewIwasnomatchforher.Shewasfasterthanmewithinseconds.Ihadnochanceofcatchingupwithheruntilshefinallycametoahaltattheforestexitpantingandtailwaggingmadly.Istoppedbyhersidebreathinghardbutexcited.

Igazedupwards.Aheadofmewasawonderfullyshapedpathwindingupasilentstillhill.IknewthehillatonceIhadbeentherebeforebutstillitseemedunfamiliar,alargethickblanketofmistcoveredthesummit.

Isteppedforwardscrunchingatwig.MovingupwardsIcouldfeelthechillofthemistuponmyskinasthemorningmist lingered lazily in the

air.Taragavemeacuriouslookandstrolledoffintothemist.Herblackfigureslowlybecame more and more visibleonthemossyhillside.ItwasonlythenthatIrealisedthesunwasbattlingthroughthegroggycloudswarmingthe atmosphere and gently liftingthemist.

looking up at the sun pushing the grey clouds and

mist out of the way,

Andthenjustaheadofmeawaitingmethesummitofthehill!MyheartskippedintomythroatandexcitementbubbledintomychestasIran passing Tara as she trotted upwardsafterme.IsuddenlylefttheexhaustionIhadfeltandbeforeIknewitIwasthere,standingonthefaceoftheearth,lookingupatthesun pushing the grey clouds andmistoutoftheway,revealingagreatwarmingrayofbeautyontotheworld.

Andthensuddenlythecloudsandmistweregone,dissolvedintotheairleavingnotraceoftheirpresence.IknewIwashere.TheplaceIhadbeenlookingfor.IwasstandingonmyfavouritehillinthewholeofEarlston.

MyFavouriteWalk

by Lauren Scott

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Dunnocks on Arthur’s Seat The wind whistled when I flew over yellow gorse,Collecting twigs, toMake a home.

The hail hammered while I gave birth to my,Not yet born family, trappedInside fragile blue cells.

The sun blazed down while I sat on my eggs,Watching two legged monsters,Laughing, chatting and climbing around the mountain.

The sun smiled when my chicks broke through their shells,Playing their flutes,For the first time.

The rain meant that worms slithered across thick black mud,And I could return to the castle ruins,With my beak full.

The night had fallen when I scolded my chicks into silence,Because a fox was, Sniffing around.

The storm was howling when I found the runt,With no breath left, In his silent corpse.

The late snow drifted down while I taught my chicks to fly,Bobbing up and down clumsily,Little brown specks over the great city…

…then they flew away.

Selina Sode-Woodhead

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Dream or no dream

by Bradley Kinnell Icouldhearmyheartthumpingagainstmychest.Mybodyfrozelikeastatue.Outsidethestreetlampswereoff–itwaspitchblack.

ThetimewasquicklygoingpastandIneededtobereadyformyfriend’sparty.HehadbeggedmeforweekstocomeandeventuallyIagreedasitsoundedlikeagoodidea.

Imetupwithafewpeopleincludingmybestfriendwhowassmellingofhisnewaftershave.Hehadhishairdyedblueforthepartybutithadgonewrongandhelookedlikesmurf.

Thetaxihadjustappearedandweweresoononourwaytotheparty.Wearrivedontimeandweregreetedatthefrontdoorbymyfriends.Thepartyhadbeengoingfortwohoursstraight.

Whenthepartywasoverwerealisedthatwehadnomoneytogethomesowehadnooptionbuttowalkthefourmiles.Offwewentonourjourneyhomefeelingdisappointedthatwehadforgottenourmoneyforthereturntaxi.

“Comehere!”wasshoutedbyaboyinacrowdofabouttwentypeoplechasingafteramanwhowasrunningasfastashecoulddownthestreettoescapethecrowd.

Wefoundourselvessurroundedbytheboyswhowerechantingandyelling.Thebombhaddropped–Iwasterrified.Iwokeupthenextmorningwithablackeyeandthreeofmyfrontteethmissing.TothisdayIstilldon’tknowwhathappened......

(JoywrotethisstoryaboutaweegirlcalledAmybeingevacuatedduringtheSecondWorldWar.JoytriestoshowthereaderhowAmyfeelsbydescribingthevillagesheissenttoandthefamilysheistostaywith.)

IarrivedatLongniddrietrainstationyesterday.Itwasgrey,rainyandcold.Thewindwasso strong that it bent the trees sideways.Therewasonlyoneshopandthebigwindowwascracked.Thetearsran

downmyface.Istartedtowalktowardsafieldwithadeerinit.Shewasallaloneandsoakingwet.Nobodywaslookingafterher.Herblackeyeswerestaringatme.

SuddenlyIheardalady’svoicebehindme.Iturnedaround.Shehadniceblackhair,nicemakeupandasmileyface.

“HiAmy,”shesaid.

Justthenaweecockerspanielpupranuptome,jumpedup,andlickedmeintheface.

“Aaaawwwww!”Isaid,“Whatisitsname?”

“Barney.”

Barneywasrunningroundincircleschasinghistail.Istartedtogiggle.ThenIsawtwo

childrenrunningdownabighillinthedistance.Theywerewavingandshouting“Hello!”

Halfanhourlaterthefourofusarrivedatasupercottage.Ithadbrightenedup.Thesunwaspeekingoutfromthecloudsandthewindhadstoppedblowing.Thereweredaisies,buttercupsandrosesinthefrontgarden.Wewalkedtoadooratthesideofthecottagepastsomeredpoppies.ThescentoflavenderwassostrongIsneezed.

“Blessyou,”saidLily.

“Blessyou,”saidJoe.Barneybarkedatabirdintheairandjumpedtotryandgetit.Everyonestartedlaughing.

Justthenamancameoutofthedoor.Hewaswearingablacktopandhewasfrowningatme.Ishivered.Thenhestartedsmilingandlaughing.Hehadjustbeenteasingme.

“YoumustbeAmy,”hesaid.“Letmeshowyouwhereyourroomis”.

Hetookmybig,old,tattysuitcasefromme.Iwasgoingtolikeithere…

Amy’sStory by Joy Kennedy

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TheSecretsHiddenWithin

By Lorna Ross

Itwasacolddarknightandtheairwasthickandadampmist gathered around the old greystonebuildingwhichstoodproudinfrontoftheyoungwoman.Shewaslookingaroundforthespotwhereshehadburiedhermother’sprecioussilverlocketwhichmeanteversomuchtoher.Theyoungwomanwhowasnowfreezingandsoakedthroughtotheskinshudderedasshethoughtbacktohowthebuildingusedtolook.Itwasonceaverygrandandbeautifulbuildingwhichanypersonwouldbeoverjoyedtoown.Everyyearinearlyspringthebrightlycolouredflowerswouldbloomandthegardenwouldcomealive.Sowhyyouaskdidtheyoungwomanshudderwhenshethoughtbackon the house and the beauty thatsurroundedit?Thefactwasshewasnotshudderingatthehouse’sappearanceshewassimplythinkingabouthowtheexteriorofthehousehadhidden all the terrible secrets within.

Itwasthelatesummerof1979andthesunwaslyinglowandhittingofftheglassofthecarwindowmakingitincrediblyhardtoseeoutofwhichwasveryfrustratingforSarah,the

younggirlsittinginthebackofthecar,asshedesperatelywantedtoknowwhereshewasgoing.AsSarahgazedoutofthesunlitwindowshecouldn’thelpbut panic about the uncertainty ofthedaystocomeassheknewfromexperiencethatcarehomeswerenotniceplaces.

Sarahhadbeentravellingforthreelonghoursnowand had passed many busy crowdedcitiesandmanysmallpicturesquevillageswhichallhadtheirownstorytotell.Butnowtherewasnosignofhumansociety,onlygreatbigtreesandfieldsfilledwithgoldenflowerswhichdancedinthegentlebreeze.OnlyminuteslaterSarahfoundherselfbeingjerkedtoonesideasthecartookasharpleftandcontinuedupaverylongunevengravelroadwhichleduptoabreathtakingoldfashionedbuilding.

The car came to a halt and a womanappearedstandingoutsidetheimpressivedoubledoorentrance.Sarahgotoutofthecarandwasgentlyusheredtowardsthemaindoor.Shenoticedthatthewoman,whofromadistancehadlookedveryaveragewasalotstrangerinappearancecloseup.Thewomanhadalongmisshapenfacewithalargenoseand

unusually big hands and there wassomethingaboutherthatgaveSarahagreatsenseofunease-anditwasn’tjustherunfortunatelook.

StandinginthemainentranceSarahwassurprisedwhenshelookedaroundtoseethattheinsideofthebuildingwasnotwhatshehadimaginedfromtheexquisiteexterior.ThefloorwascoveredinacarpetwhichhadobviouslybeentherealongtimeasSarahcouldnolongertellwhatcolouritwasmeanttobe;thewallswereagrotty grey colour and there wereonlyafewlumpylookingchairs lined up against the bare walls.Sarah’sthoughtswereelsewhereasshewastryingtolistenintothetwowomenhavingaconversationinfrontofher.Lisa,Sarah’ssocialworkerwhohaddrivenherouttoMullberryHouse,wasaveryprettyyoungladywithapetiteframeandfairhair,butrightatthatmomentLisalookedmorebeautifulthaneverasshewasstandingnexttoMissRankinthewomanwhohadmetthematthedoor.SarahwasaskedtositononeofthefewchairsagainstthewallwhileLisaandMissRankinwenttoherofficeandsortedoutthelastofthepaperwork.Itwasabouttenminuteslaterwhentheofficedoorfinallyreopened

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JohnBarrowmanwasagreatsuccesslastnight–veryentertaininglotsofverygoodsongsandjokesandbrilliantdancers.Lovedtheconcert.Gottosingalongtosomeofthesongs.

FirsthesangCelebrationTimeComeOn,thenhesangListentotheMusicandFireworkbyKatyPerry.Asthenightwenton he told us all about his familylifeandhisparentsandaboutthenewalbumshehadoutandhisbooks.

HesangthefamoussongtheYMCAandwealljoinedinsinging and dancing on our feet.HemadeusfeelproudtobeScottishsohesangAuldLangSyneandLochLomond.AlsohesangaverymovingeditionofYouRaiseMeUpfromthepopularbandWestlife.

Thestagewasamazingandverycolourful.Therewereflashinglightsandtherewere4dancers2boysand2girls.TheyworeloadsofdifferentcostumeslikeintheHollywoodsongwheretheboydancersworejustswimmingtrunksandgogglesandsnorkels.Thegirldancersworeswimmingcostumes.

Inthemiddleofthesongtheboys changed into smart suits andtiesandthegirlsworedresses.JohnBarrowmanchangedhisoutfits5timesduringtheproduction.Overallitwasanamazingnight.

andLisasteppedoutandtriedtogiveSarahareassuringsmile,butitwaseasytoseethatthesmilehadnotbeenrealandLisawasunsureaboutleavingthevulnerablelittlegirlhere.

AfterLisahadleftMissRankinledSarahthroughmanycorridors until they came to a stopoutsideadoorwiththenumber20onit.MissRankinopenedthedoorandtoSarah’ssurprisetherewerefourbeds.ShewastakenovertothebedinthefarleftcornerwhereMissRankinpickedupSarah’stattered old bag and handed overauniformwhichshewasthentoldtoputonandtofindherwaydowntothediningroomontimefordinnerorshewouldsimplyhavetogowithout. Sarahsankontoherbedclutchingthelocketaroundherneck.Shesighedasshelookedaround the gloomy room and liketherestofthebuildingitwasverybland,therewerefourmetalbedswithverythinlimpmattressesandaoldwornoutblanketoneachandbythesideoftheeachbedtherewasasmallsetofwoodendrawers.The only clue that anyone actually stayed in the room weretheteddiesanddollsthatsingularly lay against each pillow.Sarahgotchangedintoheruniformwhichwasnottheleastbitflattering:itwasillfittingandmiscolouredandswampedSarah’sslenderframeanddrainedthecolourfromherrosetintedcheeks.

ENDOFPARTONE

JohnBarrowmanConcertReviewby Lily Hambelton

OncetheplanetookoffIfeltcalmer.Ihadgotawaywithmurder,doublemurderIshouldsay.Ifeltnoguilt,noregret,onlyasmugsatisfaction.Theydiddeserveitafterall.

Arthuralwaysthoughtthathewassospecial,hewasthebestofthebest.Hislifewascomplete:happilymarried,ahighflieratanadvertisingagencyandstillinhistwenties.Itdidn’tevencrosshismindthathewasjustlikethousandsofotheryoungmenwhoallthinkexactlythesamething,onlytolookbackintwentyyearsandrealisethattheyhadwastedtheirlivesinofficeswhilethewondersoftheworldpassedthemby.Beingmurderedwas

probably the most interesting thingheeverdid.

Itreallywasanobviousmurder.Thepolicedidn’tthinksobuthowmanypeoplefallaccidentallyoutoftopstoreywindowsatwork?Iftheyhadlookedintoittheywouldhavefoundsuspectsaswell.

Arthurhadaco-worker,RichardWatt,whohatedhim.TheyhadthesamejobtitlebutitwasclearthatArthurwasheadingforthetop,whileRichardwasheadedforadingybackoffice.HewasalwaysinArthur’sshadow.AccordingtoRichardtheirbossfavouredArthur:thatmadeeveryonelaugh.

LisaSilverwasnotonlytheirboss,shehadalsofoundedthecompanyinthe80s,builtitupfromnothing.Inherearlyfiftiesnowshewasavoidedbymostofher employees as she had atempertobefeared.HerrelationshipwithArthurwasknownas‘stormy’tosaytheleast,theyconstantlyhadshouting matches across the officeandLisawasknowntothrowthingsacrosstheroom.

Afterhisdeatheverythingchanged.LisaSilvercloseddowntheagency.Shewasadisappointment.HowanyonecouldbescaredofherI’llneverknow.Theysaidshewasabrokenwoman,guiltandregretdothat.Sheshouldhavetoldhimearlier.Shehadtoldme,blurteditoutinatearfulconfession.Shewasyoungandpoor,tryingtosetupacompany.Shecouldn’tlookafterachild,sosheputhimupforadoption.ShestayedincontactwiththeadoptiveparentsandwhenArthurwasintroducedtoherasanewemployeesheknew.Itturnedoutthatshehadwantedhimtoinherittheagency,wellthat’swhatsonsareforafterall.

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TheWondersofthe World by Remedios Ayton

Richardmovedontoanotherfacelesscompany,tofindanotherco-workertoenvyand another boss to blame forhisownlackoftalent.Hewasnothingbutpettyandincompetent,completelyharmless.

NowIshouldgetontothesecondmurder,ithappenedalittleearlier,butnooneevennoticed.Crystal,Arthur’swife,wasseenasyoung,kindbutnottoobright.ShehadbeenArthur’sassistantbuthadleftworkaftertheygotmarried,thatwaswhatArthurwanted.WhenCrystalsuddenlydisappearednoonerealisedanythingwaswrong.I’mgladIkilledher,IhatedhermorethanIhatedArthur.Hewasarrogantanddismissive,butshelethimbe.

“ExcusemebutisthereanythingIcangetyouMs…?”

“Sine,GraceSine.Andyesthereis,Iwouldlikesomechampagne.”

“Certainly.”

IthinkafterImarriedArthurIrealisedwhatIwanted.Iwantedtoflyaroundtheworld.Iwantedtoseethewondersoftheworld.IwantedtodowhatIwantedtodo,andIwantedtodoitalone.IdefinitelydidnotwanttobeCrystal,Arthur’slovingwife,anymore.Ineededtogetanewidentity,anewlife.SoIdid.TheonegoodthingaboutArthur?Hisinsurance.Icouldhavejustlefthim,butafterallthoseyearsoflisteningtohisselfassuredspeechesIjustcouldn’tstanditanymore,soIkilledhim.ItwaseasierthanIthoughtitwouldbe.

Hehadjustbeengivenanewoffice,courtesyofLisaSilverofcourse,soheinvitedmeintoseeit.Hewassupposedtobeworkingsohesneakedmein.Itwasononeofthetopfloorsandtwoofthesides,fromfloortoceiling,wereglasswindowsoverlookingthecity,theviewwasamazing.EvenIhadtoadmitthat.Ihadbeguntochangebythen,begantorecognisemy

unhappiness,mylongingforsomethingdifferent.Itwasaniceday,bright,sunnyandclear,butwithacertaincrispnessintheair.Autumnwascoming.WhenArthuropenedoneofthewindowsthewindwasstrong.Hetoldmeitwasbecauseweweresohighup.AsifIdidn’tknowthatalready,I’mnotstupidandItoldhimso.Helaughed,toldmethatofcourseIwasn’tandleanedoutofthewindow.Iwassuddenlyextremelyangry.Angryathiscondescension.Angrythathewassoarrogantthathedidn’teventhinkaboutthepossibilityoffalling.SoIwalkedupbehindhimandgavehimapush.Icouldhaveturnedawayandleftratherthanwatching,butIwascurious,itwasasifIwashypnotised.Atfirstitseemedthatthewindwouldcatchhim,buthejustfellforwardasifthisworldhadnopoweroverhim.ItlookedsobeautifulthatIthoughtaboutlettingmyselffall.Thenhehittheconcrete.SoIdidn’t.

“Hereisyourchampagne,MsSine.Celebratingareyou?”

“Thankyou.Andyes,Iamcelebrating.”

God,Ilovefirstclass.

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Happy Birthday Mum

HappyBirthdayMumHopingyouhavefun

Drinkingcokeandacupoftea,

You’llbeashappyascanbe.HappyBirthdayMum

by Dylan Sinclair

Blacknessengulfsme.Thepainisquicklybeingerasedfrommybody.Nomorehurt,nomorenothing.Thedullnessisreassuring;isdeathreallythiseasy?Noonecanharmme,orstopme.It’speacefulhere.Serene.

Ipullupnexttothelitteredkerb,coveredinadvertisementsfortake-awaysandcashloans,asifthisscumcouldaffordluxuries.Howcanpeoplelivehere?EspeciallysomeoneasintelligentasJess.Iconstantlywonderhowsheeverbeganthislife;wehadthesameupbringingyetIdon’tliveinafilthyscheme.Ilivearespectfullife.Isupposethereisalwaysaweirdoneineveryfamily;Idon’tknowwhyIevenbothersometimes.Isthere any point in my being here?Shedoesn’ttalktomewhenIvisit,simplysitsandstaresintothedistancewithhersunken,darkeyesandabemusedexpressiononhersallowskinnedface.Butthephonecall…itwastooweird.Herlaughing.Itisextremelyunusualtoevenseehersmile.Iseemtothinkherfacewouldcrackwithanattempt.No,sheisn’tthatbad.Yet.Butsheisgettingworse.

Ieventuallyfindherblockofflats,menacinglytoweringoverme,inwardlyhopingthat

sheanswersthebuzzerandreassuresmethatsheisfinesoIcangetoutofthisplace.Butofcourse,hooliganshavebrokenthelockandmadetheflatsaccessible.Typical.God,itstinksinthisplace;thestenchofurineandsweatenvelopsmynostrils.Inearlygag.NinthfloorandyetIstilltakethestairs.Icanheargruntsfromthelift.Iwouldn’twanttodisturb.Thestairsarealsolitteredinadvertsandpee.ItislikeanimalsliveherethoughI’mundertheimpressionthatevenratshavebetterconditionsthanthese.Ihear someone descending the stairsasIclimbthem.Bettermakesuremycarkeysandwalletaretuckedoutofsight.Itisjustakid,withadogandacigarettehangingfromhisdirtymouth.Peoplelikethisshouldn’thavekids,whyfusetogetherDNAfromscumtore-enactthemselvesasyoungpeople.Hemaybeonlyaboutfourteenbuthestillmanagesto barge past me rather easily eventhoughthereisplentyofroomonthestairs.Eighthfloor,almostthere.

Who dares to interrupt my heaven?Ienjoyithere,yetsomeone insists on disturbing myserenity.Iwishtheywouldgo…Whatisthatnoise?Beep,beep,beep.Justgo,leavemealone.Iwashappythere.Nowvoicestoo?Canthisgetmuchworse?

Groggily,hereyesflickered.Shelooksannoyed.ThenursesarebabblingtomebutIdon’ttakeitin.Ican’tunderstand

theirforeignaccentanyway.Eventually,theyleave.Jesslooksmorerelaxedandcarriesonsleepinginherownlittleworld.MymemorycrawlsbacktowhenIfoundher.Thebangingofhervandaliseddoor,thekickingdownofherdoor,thediscoveryofherlifelessbody,surroundedbyneedlesandtablets.Thephone she had used to call mewaslyingtheretoo,asifshehaddroppeditnexttoherafterendingthecalltome.Iremembershakingher,tryingtoshaketheunconsciousnessoutofher,thedrugsoutofher.AngerwasthemostrecognisableemotionIrecallfeeling.Griefwasanother.Sowasdetermination.GriefforthesisterIhadlost;thepretty,smartyounggirlandgriefforthewomanshewasnowwithlifeedgingitswayoutofherclammybody.Ivowedtomakehersurviveandbeahealthywoman.Sheneededcare,loveandattention.Notheroin,alcoholandcigarettes.Isitandtellhermyplansforthefuture;shejustliesthere.Isshelistening?I’mnotsure.Shemightbe.Ifeelbetterfortellingheranyway.Iwatchtheheartmonitorbeepingsteadilyon,reassuredbyit.Theyweren’tsureshewouldsurvive.Herbodywasoverloaded.Idesperatelyhopeshepullsthrough.IwishIhaddonemore.

Theworldinvitesmetorejoinit.Mybodyinvitesmetooccupyitonceagain.ButIrefuse.I’mhappyhere;it’speaceful.Serene.

TheEnd

ByAmberKelly

27

28

Wemadeourdollsoutofpinkcard.Thenwemadeclothesforthemandcolouredtheirclothes.Wefixedtheclothesonwithblutac.Weenjoyedmakingthedolls.

HowWeMadeOurDress-UpDolls

By FR and DC

OnFridayIwentbacktoschooltoseemyfriendsforthefirsttimeinages.Weplayedwithbricksandwemadeashed.Wehadastory then mum came to pickmeup.OnMondayIamgoingbacktoschoolforthemorningagainandifIfeelwellenoughIwillbeabletogobackmoreregularly.ForthelastfewmonthsIhavestayedinthehospitalmostofthetime.Igottovisitthefire

stationinEdinburghandthemuseum.Themuseumwasreallycool.WhenIhavebeeninhospitalIhadateachereveryday.AtfirstIdidn’tlikeitbecauseIdidn’tknowmyteacherandIwasscared.Ifeltbetterquicklybecauseshehadanipad.IdidlotsofthingsontheipadIplayedcuttherope,angrybirdsandamotorbikegameasarewardforworkinghardbutIalsouseditfordoingwork.

IplayedMathsBingo,wrotestoriesontheBookCreatoranddrewpicturesonDoodleBuddy.Myfavouritethingthoughwasgoingtotheplayroom.IthadlotsoftoysandImadesomefriends.OneboywascalledCallumandhewasreallyfunny.HelikedHorridHenry.Ialsohadsomevisitorscomingtoseeme.Myuncles,aunties and granny and granddadscametoo.Itmademereallyhappy.Theyboughtpresentsforme.

HorridHenryintheHospitalbyCallumMurray,Age7

HorridHenrycameforasleepoverwithmeandIwasinWard2.Itwasthe 8September.Westayeduptothecrackofdawn.Wegotuptomischief.Weranabout,kickedfootballs,playedgolfandbouncedonbeds.AAAAH!Suddenlywebrokethebed.Kerrythenursewascross!ShegaveHorridHenryarow.Firstwehadfudgesand then caramels and then wewenttosleep.

GoingbacktoSchoolbyEthanAllan,Age7

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Nobody can deny that ChristmasisamagicaltimeofyearfromthelightsontheChristmastreetothesnowontherooftops.Thetowniscoveredinwonderfulsightsandsmells;themuskymulledwine;thesweetsmellofdoughnuts;cinnamondustfloatingintheair,greetingthesmilingfacesaboardthebigwheel.Christmashasbeenatradition,inmanycountries,foryearstocelebratethebirthofJesus.Yet,thereareproblemsbeginningtoshowwiththisspecialevent.

AnamazingthingaboutChristmasishowimportantitistomanyreligiouspeople.ChristmasoriginatesfromChristianity’sbeliefthatJesuswasbornonthisday,the25thofDecember.ThisissuchasignificantcelebrationfortheChristiansocietyandforthemChristmasisnotaboutlargegifts,itisaboutGod’ssonbeingbornintotheworldandthismakesitreallyemotionalforthem.TheBiblesayshowanordinarycouplewalkedmiles,withthewomaninlabour,managedtofindarundownstableandthisiswherethebirthofJesushappened.This suggests that money is

notthemostvaluablethinginlife,itisloveandhumanity.Therearemanynativityplayseducatingusaboutwhathappened at this special eventwhilstchurchesacrosstheworldholdcandlelitservicestomarkthebirthofJesusandChristiansoftengo out carol singing to the public.EventhoughitisadayofChristianity,atheistsandsome other people around theworldcelebrateChristmaswithallthetraditionalpartstogowithitbringingjoytomany people around the world.

AnotherlovelythingaboutChristmasisthatitistheonetimeoftheyearwherepeoplealmostdefinitelygettoseefamilymemberstheyhaveprobablynotseensincetheChristmasbefore.ManyfamiliesjointogetherforChristmasdinnerincludingelderlyfamilymemberswhomaynotseealotoffamily.TheChristmasdinnerusuallyconsistsofturkeywithstuffingservedwiththetraditionalChristmastrimmings,cranberrysauceandamountainofroastpotatoes.Crackersareplacedallaroundthetableforabit

ofdecorationandsomethingtodowhilethefamilywaitonthisgloriousfeast,whichusuallyleavesonespendingthenextyearonthetreadmill.Dinnerisfollowedbyboardgames,orinthesedays,Wiigameswiththechildrenandadultshavingalaugh.PhotosaretakenalotonChristmasdayoffamiliesplayinggames,openingpresentstoleavealovelymemory.Thetraditionalwayis,arguably,theloveliestwaytospendChristmas.

But,withthestatetheeconomy is in at this moment intime,financialdifficultiesare becoming more and more apparentandChristmascanbequiteoverwhelmingwithpresentsbeingtheexpectedthing.Forthevulnerablepeoplefindingthemselvesstressedthereareservicesthatclaimtosavepeoplefrombecomingindebt.Theseservicesarecalled“PayDayLenders”andarereallynotwhattheyclaimtobe.Forasimpleloanofahundred pounds you could beexpectedtopayupto25poundsforjustthirtydayswhichalladdsuptoanannualpercentagerateof1730percent.These“legalloansharks”couldactuallybe charging more than the illegal street lenders and the online pay day lender Wonga is the one that really doeschargethemost.SoforChristmasshoppersseeingalloftheseadvertsasawayoutitreally is not and they can get suckedintoaspiralofdebt.

IsChristmasAllItIsMadeOutToBe? Tiffany Hutchinson

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The pressure to get these expensivepresentsforfamilyandfriendscanmakepeoplereallyquitedepressed.

Thisneedn’tbethecaseaspeoplecouldalternativelygotoaCreditUnionwhichis much cheaper and moretrustworthy.ThesepredicamentscanbeavoidedifyouthinkcarefullybeforeChristmasthough.ChristmasdinnerscanbealotcheaperifpeoplewouldgotoalternativeshopssuchasAldiorLidlandthequalityisreallyjustthesame.Websitesonlineholdreviewsfordifferentbrands’foodanditturnsoutthatAldiandLidlhave,arguably,thebestqualityforpricesoChristmasdinnershouldnotbeanythingtoworryaboutwhenonesitsdownwithcheapwinehavingeveryonecomplimenttheexpensivetaste!Children’stoyscanbereally quite cheap such as boardgameswhichcanonlycosttenpoundsandwiththesetypesoftoystheparentscanspendqualitytimewiththeirchildren.Barbiedollsare another one that surely all girls remember getting intoastateofexcitementwhentheyseethebeautifullydressed doll appearing under thewrappingpaperasifitcostalotmorethan£15outofToysRUs.Teenagerscanbetrickierbutifparentssitwiththemanddiscusswhattheoptionsarebeforetheygoahead and set their mind on whattheywant,thingscanbeawholelotcalmer.Planningahead is the best option at

thesetimesandwhendoneproperly,Christmaswillbeanamazingtimeofyearforeveryone.

However,somepeopledonotfinditsoamazing.There are many homeless andelderlypeoplewhocanfindthemselvesaloneatChristmaswithoutfood,warmthandcompany.ThiscanleadtoaverydepressingChristmaswherethe homeless may be on the streetswithoutabedinthebitterwinterweather.TheelderlymayhavenowheretogoandunabletoevenmakethemselvesaChristmasdinner.SomefamiliesenduphavingnoChristmasatallsince money is so tight they are unable to buy the children presentslikeanyotherfamily.

They will go around the elderly

people’s homes and spend time with them when they

are lonely

But,therearecertainorganisations that can help withthesethings,suchastheSalvationArmy.TheSalvationArmyconsistsofwonderfulpeopleofallbackgroundswillingtogiveupChristmastimeforothersindesperateneed.EveryonehelpingisChristianbutmorethanthat,theyhavethewonderfulcaring personalities that shinelightintothedark

winternights.Theywillgoaroundtheelderlypeople’shomesandspendtimewiththemwhentheyarelonely,and most elderly people are providedwithaChristmasdinner in the centres that are openforChristmaswhichgivesthemachancetomakenewfriendsandenjoythehappyatmosphere.TheSalvationArmywillgoaroundlookingforhomelesspeopleonthestreetstogivehotfoodtoandinvitethemtospendthedayinthecentresand,ifpeoplehavedonatedenough,theremayevenbeabedfortheweek.Poorfamiliesarevisitedandgivensomefestivefoodandsmallgiftsforthechildren.Peopleoftensay that there is an amazing atmosphere and a great sense ofcommunityandmostofallitisachanceforthehomelesspeopletogettheirlifebackontrack.Itsureisahappytimeforeveryone.

So,alotofteenagersouttheremayjustbeexcitedaboutgettingtheirnewBlackberrymodelphone,theirupgradedGHDhairstraightenersand“theawesomenewPlaystation”butnothingcomparestothewonderfulsenseofcommunityatChristmastime.TheChristmasfeelingismagical,allittakesisawalkoutsidetoshowhowwonderfulthistimeofyearis.Withalltheamazing things that happen atChristmas,materialobjectsarenotimportant;itisthespiritofthepeoplethatisthegreatestgiftofall.

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