This week, we're delighted to introduce our Pupil Editors from Sunningdale School
. Here are their winning entires...
Archer, Year 7
The Start of the Term
Looking out of the window, the view is beautiful. Below the ripples of cotton lies hundreds of tiny buildings. We descend below the clouds. Suddenly the massive skyscrapers are getting closer and closer. It is pulling you towards the ground. Then there is a jolt, and suddenly everyone is getting up. After what seems like an eternity, I am out. The cold wind hits me. I put my seatbelt on. The ride is familiar. I have arrived. I open the giant doors and the atmosphere changes completely. I sit in the wood panelled Library, going through all the latest news and gossip after the holidays. We laugh and talk. The bell rings. Biscuits. Roll Call. Then we journey upstairs, and I start to remember. We see our new dorms.
“I wanted that bed in the corner!”
“Let's play football tomorrow.”
“No! We’ve got double maths tomorrow.”
“Let's have a secret grub party!”
I enter the shower, washing away all the grime from the airport and my travels from the other side of the world. Then I lie down and close my eyes at my other home.
Journalist: Ayre, Year 7
I get out of the car, and bond my hand to my mothers. I look around and see giants and skyscrapers towering above me, the only thing known to me is the warm skin of my mothers’ hand. Everything else feels like a mystery. I walk along the alleyway, the giants brushing past me in a desperate rush to prepare. I enter the skyscraper, and look around, seats everywhere far too tall for me, my mother pulls me to the seats and we sit down. I see my brother on the mountainside, singing and playing the fool. I desperately try to draw my mothers’ attention to my giant up on the stage.
I finish lunch and go to the costume room, rushing to collect everything I need, small people, hands tied to their mothers rushing to see our production, I brush past them and go backstage. Everything feels well worn, like I have done this 20 times. The production starts and I stand on the pedestal. Beneath me, as I sing I look into the crowd, I see a little boy poking at his mother and pointing. Suddenly I realise how much everything has changed, yet stayed the same.
Keep your eyes peeled for more of Archer and Ayre's brilliant work popping up on our website over the coming months! And remember: if you'd like to apply, do please email us at email@example.com