The English faculty would like to congratulate all its students for their resilience. It has been a busy Term 2 with exciting and challenging texts to delve into and new reading and writing skills to hone.

Recently 7EnglishH have been exploring the Fantasy Literary genre. 

Last week they worked collaboratively to break down the features of info-graphs and analyse the data they present on Fantasy Book trends. 

The English Faculty would like to congratulate all its students for their resilience.

Our Year 8 English students specifically explored the many forms of resilience: how to equip oneself with strength, positivity and courage. From Chilean miners trapped underground for 69 days to Sudanese children building a country ravaged by civil war, our students engaged with many texts which activated mature discussion about the world and the exceptional people in it. 

Our confident and animated Year 7 English students began their creative writing journey as young fantasy writers. With keen imagination, our students learned about the mechanics of writing and how to successfully include narrative elements. 

Year 9 English students pondered on what constitutes youth culture and whether their own is represented in classic literary and modern Australian texts. 

Congratulations to our Year 10 English students for their excellent performance in the Half Yearly Examination. Their knowledge on social justice and advocacy has been reinforced through research, discussion and analysis of their set novel.

Creative Writing Workshop

Through another term of coughing, sneezing and mountains of tissues, our resident writers did not miss a beat! Every second Tuesday after school, Ms Papageorgiou’s classroom is a whirlpool of creatively restless minds wrestling with unbridled imagination!

The Band 
Composer: Zane
Resident writer for the Hurstville Campus Creative Writing Workshop

Casteria was the queen of the dark sorcerer’s realm, which was not a very welcoming place. She had a large multitude of “slaves” that would attend to all her needs. If suddenly they decided not to abide, well, they met with their demise…

She had dark, flowing, black hair and sparkling pink pupils with Celtic runes for irises. Her skin abnormally white, enough to make you believe that she was not human… and she was not. She had made a perfectly fitting purple leather dress with strips of cloth running down separately forming octopus-like features. She possessed mesmerising violet wings and a completely murderous flexible looking tail with a firm-steel-purple colour of a skin like texture.

Although immensely powerful, Casteria would much prefer to call the best of her manipulated slaves to do her bidding.

Owen is or will be known as her arch nemesis. Owen was very pure of heart. Although he was not what most people call tough, he could fend for himself though he preferred to keep his fists in his pockets. He was blessed with the unique ability to manipulate scriptures, drawings or descriptions, and so his pockets were torn out of place… permanently. Thus, he named himself, or code named himself, Nightmare. His thoughts and sadness brought him pale white skin that looked as if he had many encounters with death. And he had. Because of this, he became more reckless, though it benefited him in the sense of making him more alert and awake.

Owen’s appearance had always had an effect on people. His deep black hair reached the bottom of his neck, straight and neat but uncared for and unpolished. His hazel eyes could make you feel as if one were lying on a cloud of hope yet… he was anxious and troubled. His eyes would turn to a green and black void that would stare into your soul and form a black hole in your heart and then a pressured thrilling state.

His attire consisted of a white powerful protective jacket with black stripes and markings that glowed a green void colour when he used his abilities. Matching that was his white mask with upward teeth carvings and black designs that shimmered more than his jacket. He would often change his choice of pants, but they were mostly black leather pants that he would temporarily enchant, along with his matching boots and gloves, enhanced for protection. The latter would also help navigate when flying and help him control his electric void ability.

Owen was always accompanied by his three steadfast friends: Leon, Brooke and Suki.

Leon, code-named Ghost, was mostly a calm person with short and always combed chocolate brown hair, soft brown skin and sea blue eyes that would glow neon pink when he used his abilities. He could faze through things with ease and could absorb energy, use energy, shape shift his limbs and fire laser beams or balls of energy. His different fancy clothing, betraying his wealthy station, contrasted with his exceptionally good fighting skills, drawn from all types of martial arts.

For battle he wore an extremely flexible onesie-like metallic blue suit which covered his neck, hands and legs with strips that would show off his glowing effect. The eye mask, also blue, was characterised by its white patches which allowed its wearer to see but kept their eyes anonymous.

Brooke, code-named Combo, was very patient and was always aware of the situation making her abilities a perfect fit. She had long brown olive hair that was covered by her scarf, light brown skin and eyes that seemed to shift colour depending on the weather and time of day. Her abilities included manipulation of water, fire, earth, air, magma, plants, smoke and other liquids. It may seem that Brooke and the others had banded before they met Owen as she also had a metallic dark blue costume except, she had a scarf and two large strips stemmed from it, forming a split cape-like appearance, the part facing her back a light metallic blue.

Suki, code-named Kaminari, was profoundly serious, but could be somewhat funny except it was exceedingly rare compared to the others. She had calm brown curly hair that was tied up in a ponytail, snow white skin and dark chocolate eyes that sparked a lightning pink when she was about to fight. She had a similar suit to Leon although it was not metallic. Her chest, knees, soles of her shoes and chin were covered in tough, bubble gum pink colour, glass-like material, along with her pink stained futuristic looking glasses. She had a cape shaped in a transparent pink lightning bolt. She had the speed of a lightning bolt, could use pink electricity and could manipulate technology or anything powered by electricity.

Owen felt a strange feeling…as if his mind were clouded. He did not bother thinking of it… or he just could not think of it…

He turned to his friends. His extraordinary band awaited him, ready for their next battle.

Prologue 

Composer: Evan

Resident writer for the Hurstville Campus Creative Writing Workshop

The clock tower rang loud and clear, signaling that it was midnight. The breeze blew through the cold, dead streets of the quiet neighbourhood. The only light that should have been seen was the dim brightness of the full moon.

Flashes of colour could be seen coming from an alleyway in the middle of the town. In between the rubbish bins and graffitied brick walls, stood two middle-aged men at opposite ends of the alleyway. The man standing at the open end of the alley had white hair, which looked like freshly fallen snow, reaching his shoulders. His pale skin could almost match the colour of his hair. He wore black robes that could hardly be seen against the inky black sky. What made it visible was the white trim.

In his hand, he held a staff that matched the colour of his robes where from the splits in the wood you could see the core of the staff. It was a blazing red that matched the evil fire of his eyes. He lifted his staff and the top came alight with a ball of green fire. He slammed his staff to the ground and the emerald green fire raced toward the other mysterious man on the closed end of the alley.

The other man was the complete opposite of the first one. He had short, chestnut brown hair and warm, hazel eyes that twinkled in the moonlight. He had tan skin that was close to the colour of his staff. He wore navy blue robes that had a trim of black. His staff was a shade of light brown and in between the cracks, you could see a bright, sky-blue core.

He pointed the tip of his staff at the other man and shot a bolt of yellow electricity to block the fire from coming any further. He slammed his staff to the ground and cracks started to appear along the ground until they reached the white-haired man. They stopped right in front of him before blue smoke flew out of the ground and surrounded the man’s face.

“You cannot defeat me James,” shouted the man who had conjured the blue smoke as he twirled his staff in a hypnotic way, as the top came to life with a deep purple flame.

“You know that I do not go by that name anymore Aurelius!” the other man called back as he tried to clear away the smoke. After managing to clear it away, he saw what Aurelius was doing. James pointed his staff at Aurelius and started shooting what looked like blood red shards of glass at him. Aurelius’ eyes widened at the sight and quickly reacted, disintegrating the pieces of glass with his purple flame.

After doing away with the glass shards, Aurelius pointed his staff at James and the purple flame flew toward him, taking the form of a bird as it went at top speed. This time, James was surprised, never seeing this type of magic before, but quickly put up a shield that would protect him from it. The purple bird born from flames flew into the shield and harmlessly melted.

James started to build up a ball of red and blue electricity on the top of his staff, slowly getting bigger and bigger. Aurelius knew he would not be able to defend against this and quickly made himself a portal using his staff.

When James looked over at Aurelius, he saw him making a portal. The portal was up against the wall and it was a swirling pool of black liquid, surrounded by a solid frame of blue crystal. James realised that Aurelius would escape if he did not hurry, and he threw the giant ball of red and blue sparks toward Aurelius. By the time it hit the wall and left a deep gash in the brick, Aurelius was already gone.

Not two seconds later, Aurelius tripped over the edge of the portal and landed in the living room of his house, safe from James and the life-threatening encounter he just had. Until, inescapably, the next one.

Chapter 1

Composer: Ayaz. C

Resident writer for the Hurstville Campus Creative Writing Workshop

Darkness enfolded over the lean streets of Wind Burrow Lane resembling an immobile black river, the streetlights looming dimly over the palpably visible crevices. The houses lined along the ominous sidewalks, seemed to be abandoned, the loose, rocky roofs losing a brick or two every other day, but these deserted homes, however, belonged to elderly individuals who were mostly in retirement, too weary to retain the place under a sustainable condition.

Marcus Lofly, a twenty-five-year-old man stood behind the glass of his one bedroom, one bathroom, extremely fragile and decrepit home, and seemed to be the only one awake on this quiet street. He peered his depressing, blue eyes past the linen curtains and through the thinly paned window, surveying the barren road which proceeded downhill to his left, as his house was positioned at the very edge of a steep hill this desolated neighborhood was settled.

Marcus’ disheveled appearance shrieked neglect sporting a scruffy, stubble beard and deep, maroon bags under his sleepy eyes. His deep brown hair resembled a mass of black seaweed, sitting unevenly and draping down the side of his head and into his waxy ears.

Marcus’s life began as any other child's; he had the adequate number of toys and an ideal living space. However, the parents that had brought him into this world hadn't been the angels someone would expect, or at least one of them wasn’t. His mother, Maria Lofly, was a gem of a mother in Marcus’s eyes. His father Howard Lofly, however, had started his adult life with alcohol on his shoulders. Marcus was forced to deal with the commotion his father had caused in his childhood and had accepted it around the same time.

The next day came along as quick as ever, and Marcus had already started reading the new novel he had borrowed. It was as interesting as the one he was familiar with, and he enjoyed this one specifically since it went in depth on Hemlock Jones’ methods of catching the culprit.

The case in this novel followed the mystery behind a young teenager’s disappearance, and the furthest most detectives concluded was that she had drowned. Hemlock Jones, however, being the crafty and cunning individual that he was, went to the river the girl had supposedly drowned in, taking a sample of the water.

The techniques and procedures they had used to decrypt each and every clue was wildly fascinating, and Marcus found himself unable to release himself from the grasp the plot put upon him every time he laid his eyes on the text.

As his feet hopped happily at the foot of his bed, he heard the loud, annoying revving of the garbage truck as it unloaded the trash from bins placed along several houses including his own with its robotic arm.