A bit different than the usual chapter! So far this book has been filled with sort of old writing of mine; so now I want to spice it up with some more recent writing – mainly to show you guys that I've grown and that most of that stuff before, I consider cringy and bad (lmao).

For the first term of this year, our English assessment was to come up with three pieces of writing – a moment of tension or change, a narrative introduction, and a discursive piece. Obviously I will only post the creative pieces here; the discursive was quite preachy, and it would also stir some opinions of... differing intensities that I don't want to invite here.

The moment of tension, which I titled "Bodysnatcher/Mimic Monster" (I couldn't decide), which was meant to be about 300 words (I think? Also it's 397):

Walking my bike to the car garage, I unclipped my helmet and tossed it on my dad's worktable, with it casting off the stress of the day I'd just experienced at school.

I heaved a sigh, bag suddenly feeling heavy on my shoulders as I walked round to the front door. Inside lay a safe haven of relaxation; thankfully, my teachers had been merciful enough to spare us from homework for the day, which I counted as a perfect end to the week.

Gaze following the tiles that decorated our veranda, I unslung my bag and zipped it open, rooting around for my keys amongst the textbooks. The cool metal jingled as I withdrew them and shoved them into the keyhole to unlock the door.

It creaked open without my aid.

Huh, guess Callum finally remembered to take his keys.

Shrugging, I chucked my keys back in my bag and slung it over one shoulder, entering the cool of the house and clicking the front door shut behind me.

"Cal?" I called, hearing my voice faintly echo off the thin walls.

"Here!" Came the reply, probably from the lounge room.

I set off in the direction of the response, indeed finding my brother lounging on the couch playing Trials Fusion on the Xbox.

"Back so soon?" Callum asked, not looking away from the tv.

"What?" I queried, thrown off by the question.

"You know," he prompted off-handedly, "cuz you went out to buy chips ten minutes ago!" He flicked the joystick, the movement making a clack noise. "Thanks for letting me in by the way, I forgot to grab my keys this morning."

The bag fell from my shoulder, hitting the carpet beside me.

"Cal," my voice was low. "I just got here a minute ago."

"Aw, quit it," he laughed. "You really think I'll believe that?"
"I'm being dead serious," I replied, dread rising like bile in my chest and making the back of my throat feel sour. "I literally just ditched my bike in the garage, and when I went to unlock the front door, it was already open."

Cal turned to me with a mirthful, all-in-good-fun smile; but when he saw my grave expression, his face became a contortion of confusion and fear. "Felix..."

"Callum," I gripped his shoulder. "Whatever you saw, whatever let you in... that wasn't me."

On-screen, his character bailed out. 

And the narrative opening which I titled "Into The Deep End" (meant to be about 250 words I'm pretty sure, only slightly overdid it with 264):

Chilling terror coddled my skin, beads of perspiration rolling down my face. Even through my t-shirt and shorts I was sweating buckets of browbeaten bullets; tasting the splintered saltiness of my distress.

My heart was working overtime, fuelling adrenaline to my limbs with every thump. Thumping like a jackhammer against the bony prison of my ribcage.

My lungs ached, scorching with spent strength.

I had been running for forever.

Multicoloured leaves and sticks crunched and cracked under my feet, the sound seemingly rebounding off the ochre-shaded yews that surrounded me, trapped me.

The smell of damp foliage lingered in the air, kept low to the ground from the abundance of leaves shielding the ground from the sky high above. Any other day, the landscape would serve a serene escape... of course, any other day, a fugitive wouldn't be tearing through that tranquillity, spoiling the ambiance with the air of haste and the plague of petrification.

The twinkling sun filtered through the packed trees, dappling the dark grass I was sprinting down and offering stabs of light in the gloomy atmosphere. Strange bird calls sounded relentlessly overhead, joining the snapping sticks and eerie insect trills to make up the symphony of the forest.

I dared snatch a glance behind me, but all I could see was the same expanse of woods that circled me. Try as I might, it felt as if running would get me nowhere.

My breath came in spiky handfuls, ripping jaggedly down my throat as I stole gasps of oxygen.

I wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. 

This one was from last term last year, I'm pretty sure. Sometime last year anyway. We were given stimulus sentences and images; of the bunch, I chose the stimulus sentence "It was just the everyday walk, past the same stuff... same on the way in, and same again on the way home. But on this day, there was something: its shape caught the sunshine in a strange reflection. But could something new really shake up the old?". This one is 800 words (I love that tv show):

The sharp bell scratched my eardrums, letting everyone know that school had officially ended. Once the shrill cry of the final bell ceased its assault, the attack was replaced with the scraping of chairs against linoleum and the zippers of people's bags.

I resisted the urge to clap my hands over my ears, instead allowing myself to wince.

Various callings of "bye, Miss!" and "Have a good weekend!" were exchanged between teacher and students as we left the classroom. Ms Harding's plea of "please complete question five as homework" was drowned in all the noise.

I slowly placed my utensils back in my backpack and zipped it up, hoisting it onto my shoulder as I watched my classmates leave.

"See ya, Miss!" I tossed the farewell over my shoulder to my tired teacher as I trudged past her, receiving a drawn-out "bye" in response.

Outside, it was overcast, the clouds heavy and burdened. I set off down the corridor towards the school's entrance, where just about every other student was headed. Luckily, I didn't bump into anyone; that resulted in weird looks, and I reacted to weird looks about the same as how I reacted to unpleasant noises. And whenever I did think someone was giving me a weird look, I reminded myself that they were focusing on themselves, just like me. It was like my mantra.

Finally, the students of Autumn Valley High escaped through the black gates. Some began their journeys back home, others ran to catch the bus before it peeled away. A few took a sharp right around the building, headed for the bike racks to pick up their bikes and scooters (and skateboard, if you were my friend Skylar) which assisted them in their journey back to where they stayed when the lights went out.

The ground was damp, a fair few depressions full of water from the sky. This was the reason my scooter did not reside at the bike rack as it normally does: that same sky water had been falling on my way to this treacherous place in the morning, hours back in time.

In other words, I had quite the walk ahead of me.

Yeah, it was only a kilometre's worth, but there were a lot of hills. At least it was good exercise.

Unfortunately, my earbuds were back home, so I had no music to accompany me. I sighed, opting to mouth the words to a song I liked as I left the school grounds.

I tried to stop myself from slouching by pretending I was sitting on the back of a horse, which helped.

To battle the boredom that threatened to consume me whole, I tried to spot shapes in the dirty clouds, perhaps looking for dragons that had by some miracle made their way to our reality. I wanted them to swoop down and offer me a ride up past the clouds, where the air was thin.

I returned to reality when I felt my shoulders ache. It was hard to accept, but I had to, for it was the truth: life isn't like a story. This is something that I was sure I would struggle with for as long as I live.

Take this walk, for example: it was just the everyday walk from school, past the same stuff... same on the way in, and same again on the way home.

I looked up from the grey concrete pathway and sighed again, shifting my bag, before doing a double-take. Had I just seen something in the bushes up ahead?

It was most likely my imagination, but I was sure I had seen something shine bright enough to catch my eye. But with what sun?

I jogged over to the aforementioned bush on the side of the path, residing on a grass strip. Pushing apart prickly fronds that tickled and pinched my skin, I uncovered several small insects and a couple pebbles. The light layer of dew that covered the bush spread to my hands.

For a second, I took a mental step back and wondered how dumb I looked to outsiders: picking desperately through a bush for... what, exactly?

I shook my head, throwing the thought off. Something was telling me to do this. A voice or some calling: I had to listen to it.

My finger hit something that felt cool against my mortal skin, making me freeze and furrow my eyebrows. I dug some more and found, to my great surprise, an old-fashioned, small and silver key.

I hooked my finger around the small loop at the end and withdrew it, brushing the dirt off so it gleamed in the pale light.

So today there was something new, catching the limited light in a strange reflection.

But can something new really shake up the old?

I'm pretty sure I got full marks for that one! I'll probably update this with more of my creative English assessments in the future. :)