Ellie woke up, and did the same thing every day. Put on her dress, make herself some breakfast, and sit with her book and wait. Wait for a prince to come and save her for her tower. She’d spent 10 years in the nasty old tower just waiting and waiting. You can imagine how boring it must be. And one day, she had enough. She stood up and looked around. She, unfortunately, hadn’t noticed in 10 YEARS that there was an old banged up rope hanging from one of the beams across the ceiling. She internally rolled her eyes at her past self, who had been so blinded by hope that some meathead Prince would come and rescue her from evil…there wasn’t even anything evil outside! 

(That’s what she believed) She pulled the weathered rope and looked at it. It certainly would not be able to hold her weight. She started to mend it with an old sewing kit, potato sacks and old dresses . A day passed, then another. Finally she finished. She grabbed her large bag and filled it with a loaf of sourdough bread, her favourite . She looked down at her extravagant dress, knowing it simply wouldn’t do. Ellie snatched a pair of old trousers that were lying about and the oldest jumper before roughly cutting off her hair, so it wouldn’t get caught on branches she was happy with her appearance, no one would notice her and think of her as a lowly stable boy. Pulling on her boots, she tied the rope around a pillar before throwing it out the window, grabbed her bag and descended down the tower. Down she went, the adrenaline fueling her. As she arrived at the bottom, she looked at the tower: she wasn’t going to be trapped every again:

She would adventure through the kingdom and maybe passed

But will she? Will she not? Who knows what will happen next…

Short Story by Emilia Milne (S2)

I used to be just a little bunny called Bunjamin (I saw that giggle—when you’re a rabbit, you kind of get all the rubbish names, because all the humans take the good ones) who loved Easter.

I would watch the little humans search for eggs while the big humans watched with happy faces. It looked like so much fun.

I wished I could join in. I wished I could be human—play games, eat lots of food, and maybe even go to church… and then eat even more food after.

But who could have known that I could be so much more?

Who would have known that one day… I would become the Easter Bunny?

It all started when my little bunny feet wandered out one night before Easter. The big humans were hiding all the eggs—some even lazily chucking two or three into bushes. That’s when I realized… no wonder the big humans don’t join in. They’re the ones hiding all the eggs!

Then I thought—(my friends say I should stop doing this)—we have Santa Claus to deliver presents… So why can’t Santa’s wife deliver the Easter eggs? It's brilliant, I'm brilliant, I'm Bunjamin the brilliant bunny! But I needed to ask her first, so I went home to give her a ring on my carrot phone. I got the new bunnyline 17 pro max, for Christmas -thanks Santa.

I hopped home and dialed her number in “+123456789”(if you're needing extra presents this year, give her a ring) . I'm going to skip the call and just tell you what happened,she basically said that it's almost midnight and I should stop ringing and she can't help with Easter eggs because she's hibernating for Christmas.

…So I hung up, tried to think (I'm getting better at thinking), and decided… If Santa's wife can’t do it, my mum will! No wait….I will! That’s right. This year, your guy Bunjamin is hiding your eggs. But how would I do that? Do I just hide raw eggs? Do humans even eat raw eggs? Why do I care—they should be thankful either way. Have a bunny-full Easter, and don’t forget to look out for me on Easter p. I’ll be in my quarter-zip, looking good as always! Please note that I will not be giving any autographs, as I cannot write. Thank you 

Story by Gabriella Iwobho (S3)

How I hate the classroom, it’s such a pain,

Packed with kids, there’s crumbs on my frame.

Pencils rolling, papers askew,

Pens leaking—my colour’s turning blue!

Bent, old, dirty, drawn on again and again,

Are these “highschoolers” really still ten?

Gum stuck on me, big and bold like the sea,

I just want one thing—I want to be free!

Screams and laughter here and there

Screams and laughter everywhere

I'm sat on, drawn on, and kicked with little legs

I'm not a toy, I'm- what rhymes with legs, jegs?

I'm called a desk, a table, a surface

I'm meant to be something you purchased

I'm meant to be looked after

Not stood on. Not sat on. It's time for a new chapter

Tables unite, we are much much more than just tools

Let's stand up to these fools!

Poem by Gabriella Iwobho (S3)