Chapter 1
Jade, a confident young lady, stood quietly on platform two staring at the wintry looking scene of the train station. The quickly pouring rain covered the large rough area that was owned by the Cardiff Train Station. The fast flowing wind brushed the rain towards all corners of the deserted station, especially towards the fourteen year old girl who was as still as a statue. The station was like a painting. A great painting by one of the most recognizable artists the world had witnessed. There was nothing happening. No trains were leaving. No trains were arriving. No one was moving. There was just stillness with drops of cheeky water spoiling the great picture.
Jade looked around to see if there was anyone else there as the place was surprisingly quiet. There was, but they all looked a bit like the weather – gloomy, miserable and surrounded by the cursed winter. All of the other travellers were wearing raincoats and you’d have to be quite stupid not to be. They pulled up their sleeves every now and then to stare angrily towards their watches, predicting when their train would arrive to carry them to warmth and dryness.
Jade was wearing a purple coat covered by the lightly coloured silver stripes which were glow in the dark. Her expensive looking navy jeans were losing colour quickly as the selfish, brutal conditions stole their identity. Her purple, glowing shoes looked rather confused with the weather after seeing months of warm sunshine and no gusty wind. They looked dismal as the sparkles glared at the dark sky above them. Jade didn’t bother to pull her heavy sleeves up for a quick glance at the time. For all she knew, her taxi would be waiting outside the train station for her wet body to rise from the soaked stairs.
She entered the indoor area and dragged her heavy, precious pink case, which had a flag of Wales proudly all over it, through the surprisingly large space. Inside it looked like the whole population of her beloved country had turned up to cheer her on.
They had all parked themselves randomly in a chosen spot and had parked their luggage out of the way of the large drops of water which were finding their ground outside. Jade felt and looked miserable as she filed carefully through the smallest of gaps in the large audience. She kept having to say ‘sorry’ awkwardly to innocent travellers who had done nothing to her due mainly to her heavy bag that dragged over their feet or bumped into their muscled legs.
When she finally arrived at the main entrance, her taxi wasn’t there. The only scene she saw through the large automatic doors was a quiet looking Cardiff city centre. Countless buildings shivered strongly against the gusty winds that dominated Cardiff. There wasn’t a single vehicle on the rough roads and everything looked like it was preparing for the worst natural disaster Cardiff and Wales had witnessed, that would undoubtedly kill everyone and everything.
Jade made the difficult decision to step through the identical sliding automatic doors, out into the coldness. She waited, shivering quietly, quiet in the middle of the storm, waiting agonisingly for a black car with a yellow sign flying above it.
She hadn’t seen such weather for months, but the daily forecast had predicted that there was a bad storm travelling its way through South Wales and deeper into the country. After another minute of frustration whilst she was biting her nails anxiously, the loud roar of a weak engine echoed all around her.
She looked surprised by the cry of the painful sounding engine that was brutally withstanding the bad weather. Although the engine was by far not the strongest, loudest engine Jade had ever heard, it topped the wind’s blustery song as the vehicle dragged along carefully and strongly along the Tarmaced road.
As the taxi approached the designated area for drop offs and pick ups, Jade noticed the windscreen wipers fluttering painfully, clearing the fast hitting rain from the driver’s view. It danced along the glass, waving the drops of rain to the side where more and more water was piling up surprisingly quickly.
As the taxi pulled over to make it easier for Jade to enter, the front passenger seat window slid down, squeaking its way past the edge of the door. Hiding behind the window was the driver. This sluggish looking man was big and wide and was held tightly against his large seat by an annoying looking black seat belt. Most of the hair on top of his head had disappeared but there were a few of the lucky ones hanging proudly, easily cared for, and flying in the wind. They all looked like they were wishing they had their old friends battling the battle with them.
He wasn’t short of facial hair though, that was certain. He had a beard in the shape of a banana from the bottom of one ear to the other. He had dark horrifying eyes that stared towards the girl and a rather long nose. He had the smallest of ears but the largest of frowns. On his large body was a simple black t-shirt with the question ‘Taxi?’ written in white on it. He wore a black leather jacket and on his fat looking legs were beautiful looking black trousers. It was sure that no one would try to mess with this man. He definitely horrified Jade. But Jade had a nice shock when his first words were spoken. His kind voice spoke:
“Are you by any chance Jade Thomas?”
“Yes. I am Jade Thomas!” she answered instantly.
“Jump in then, we don’t want you to get a cold now, do we! Especially when we are less than twenty minutes away from your new school!” he laughed.
With all her muscle, Jade lifted her bag onto the other seat in the back row of the taxi. Then she jumped in and strapped herself into the tight fitting seatbelt. The driver pressed the accelerator and drove off.
What Year is It?
Mared Owen, Bro Myrddin
The rain pitter-patters against the window. The wind shakes the window pane, sending cold draughts of air down my back, making me shiver every now and again. Our teacher drones on in his dull voice about someone called Elizabeth. Not that I care an ounce about history lessons. What’s the point of learning about things that have happened, that have lived, that have died? Why should we suffer, sitting here learning about pointless stuff? Science is much better. At least there is a point to our suffering on that particular subject. At least it affects us, the present and the future...
“Lucy Abstract! Did you hear what I just said?” our gaunt old man of a teacher shouted. Another question for you: why are teacher’s so annoying? And how do they find a way to squirm into your daydream every time you doze off? I’ll bet you that I was on my way to a brilliant scientific discovery or something, but he interrupted me during my reverie... And who knows? Maybe my to-be amazing idea is lost forever.
“Umm...Yes! Of course I did Sir!” I replied, crossing my fingers behind my back while I smiled sweetly.
“Then why is it taking so long for you to answer?” he asked impatiently.
I must advise you to think carefully before daydreaming in class, especially in history lessons. You MUST have a reply at the ready. Even if you have a sharp tongue and a quick mind, always be ready with an answer (unlike me!).
“Er, I was waiting for you to repeat the question, Sir...?” I mumbled hopefully. NOT A GOOD IDEA. If you have sensitive feelings (sounds familiar) and hate getting hurt (heard that one before), then don’t EVER answer with my pathetic reply. Because he just laughed nastily!
“Detention for you,” he sighed while scribbling a note. “Lunchtime tomorrow, Lucy, my classroom.” He eye-balled several other troublemakers. “And to everyone else. Take heed of this punishment!”
Why do history teachers, especially ones specialising in the Tudor era, speak using the outdated version of the English language. I mean, GET WITH THE PROGRAMME! But as I was just about to exhale in relief he turned around.
“I thought better of you Lucy. You’re usually one of my best pupils.” And with that he spun on his heel.
Huh! Best pupil, really? I guess I am usually a goody-two-shoes and always pay attention in every single lesson, whatever the subject or topic. But today I had something on my mind.
I glanced at my open bag. It would be risky to even think about reading the book now, but what’s the worst that can happen? I’ve already received detention, a
nd the book is about the size of our history work books... I quickly scanned the room. Everyone was either dozing off or gazing dully into the distance. No one was even looking in my direction.
While our teacher had his back to us, writing something on the white board – probably summarising the lesson or his totally pointless rant – I reached hastily for the book and in a flash it was lying open on my desk. Then I hurriedly tried to make it look like my open work book, putting my personal planner and my two pencil cases at the front of my desk, hiding the edge of my book, which unfortunately was an old, tattered hardback. Phew! Just in time. Because our teacher had just turned around to face us once again.
I saw that he was glimpsing at me now and again out of the corner of his eye. I smiled angelically up at him, trying my best to act as innocent as possible, and when he asked a question... Oh boy! I put on all of my ‘teacher’s pet’ qualities on show and my hand shot poker straight up into the air.
He chose me immediately, probably pleased that I had once again become his ‘favourite pupil’ and I answered perfectly, even if I say so myself. My plan worked perfectly as well and I could breathe easily once again, with him off my back. Now I could get to work!
Going to Aberavon Beach
Natasha Wood, Cwrt Sart
“The sun is shinning, it’s a lovely day, what can we do?” asked a young girl whose name was Ed.
Ed was in her teenage years and as you know them years are pretty stroppy.
“I know! Why don’t we go cycling?” suggested Eddie’s brother Noah.
“Maybe not,” said their mother.
“Well, what else shall we do?” said Noah.
“How about we go to the beach?” exclaimed their mother excitedly.
“Yeah! Can we get some chips and ice-cream as well?” replied Ed.
“Well, I guess I can make an exception for once!” said their mother.
“Thanks Mam, you’re the best!” replied Noah with excitement.
Off they went down to Aberavon beach, when suddenly their car broke down!
“Oh no! The car’s broke down!” they all said.
“Are we ever going to get to the beach?” asked Ed.
“Yes we are, and I’m going to make sure of that, I promise!” their Mam replied looking very concerned.
She climbed out of the car. She couldn’t think what was wrong. So they decided to call the RAC. The closest RAC is in Swansea.
“Hello, how can I help you?” the RAC lady said.
“Well, my car has broken down,” she said with shock.
“Where are you?” asked the lady politely.
“I’m by Aberavon beach,” she answered.
“Well, I’m going to have to know the street name,” she explained.
“Wait one second, I’ll be right back,” she said tiredly. She went off looking for the street name still holding the phone to her ear. “Ah found it! Is it Roland street?” she exclaimed.
“Yes that’s it. We’ll be there in about ten to fifteen minutes, is that okay?” said the RAC lady.
“Yes that’s fine,” said the mum with joy.
In the next fifteen minutes they finally came.
“Hooray!” shouted the kids with excitement.
“Hello. My name’s Ben. I’m here to see to your car,” he said.
“Yes okay,” the mum replied.
“Mmmm. There’s nothing wrong with your engine. But I have noticed that you are out of petrol! Did you check your petrol light?”
“No … well … I don’t think so,” she replied shamefully.
“Okay, I will replace your petrol but it’ll cost five pound,” said the RAC man.
“Okay.”
So in the end they finally went to the beach
A Strange Tale [Extract]
Gwen Lewis, Bro Myrddin
“I don’t want to!” Jack protested all night long, but his mum would not give in.
“Sam doesn’t have to leave and travel all the way to some backward country full of sheep to live with strangers. Why do I have to?”
“Because I’m your mother, and I say so! Besides, who is this Sam you keep talking about? He can’t be very smart if he’s not going. Anything could happen in this stupid war. You don’t want to die now, do you Jack?”
“No”, he mumbled, recognising the fear in her voice.
“Good, now pop into bed. You’ve got a big day tomorrow don’t forget.”
“Night, night mum. I’ll miss you”
“Night Sweetie. Sleep tight.” She kissed him on the forehead and walked slowly out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Jack listened to his mother sighing on the other side of the door before settling down to sleep.