Archive for November, 2009
Here is a fantastic story all the way from America!
Harrison Sinclair needed a phone. His cell phone fell out of his pocket and broke, and all the public phones have been vandalized. The reason he wanted to call was to find out if his daughter was at the hospital or not. There was a big bus pile up at her school. The hospital was ten miles away; he had no money for a taxi, and he would not live with himself if he didn’t find out right away.
Harrison was exploring around the cityscape for ten minutes until he finally found an outdated looking phone booth right near some railroad tracks. The booth looked out of place compared to the steel skyscrapers, and there was an old Victorian look to it. He walked to the phone booth and dialed up the hospital number nearest to the place where the pileup happened. After a few seconds of ringing, a surprisingly clear voice said, “Hello, this is St. Mary Hospital. How may I help You?” “Do you have any recent records of Julie H. Sinclair?” “What does the “H” stand for sir?” “Er, well, its Homonubus.” He heard no snicker. “There is no Homonubus at our hospital, although there is a Homonubus at Green Leaf Hospital.” Harrison’s throat stiffened, “How old is she?” “Five years old sir.” It was his daughter!
Green Leaf Hospital was a mile away. Harrison sprinted down a sidewalk and got there in seven minutes. He signed in as fast as he could and asked what number was his daughter’s room. “490,” came the reply. He rushed to the room and walked in. He saw his daughter wrapped in bandages snd came close to his dear child. Her eyes were closed. When he went to her bedside, Julie’s eyes flew open and she said in a gravelly voice: “Am I going to the place where mommy went.” “I hope not, honey.” “Well I think I am going there.” After those words, she finally closed her eyes. Harrison’s eyes widened, and he sank to the floor weeping. Then he ran out of the hospital.
His wife had died a year before and he was still mourning her. At his daughter’s funeral, she was buried next to her mother. After a week, Harrison started lingering around the phone both. At first he hated it, he kicked the walls and punched the telephone box until his knuckles were bloody. But after a short while, it suddenly occurred to him that if he hadn’t found the phone booth, he would not have seen his daughter when she was still alive and he wouldn’t have heard her last words. After that thought, he started cleaning the glass in the booth. He also polished the telephone box. Every day he cleaned the floor. In a week, the booth glowed in the sun and sparkled in moonlight. As a last touch, he put a bronze plaque on the door that said: “This booth is commemorated to my wife and daughter. I hope you two are happy.” The phone booth was Harrison’s new pride and glory. But the loss of his family left a gaping wound of sorrow in him.
One day, as Harrison was polishing the bronze plaque, the phone rang. It was very peculiar. Nonetheless, Harrison picked it up. He heard a disgusting and gurgling voice saying: “I would rather die than apologize.” Then a sound like a bang followed and the line went dead. After a few minutes of panic, Harrison thought to himself, that must have been a prank caller, and left.
It was already night, and Harrison wanted to get home fast, so he crept through an alley that was a shortcut to his house. He suddenly stopped. He heard the same gurgling voice. It was coming from a side alley. Harrison peeked around the corner and saw twenty people standing in a circle. In the middle of the circle was a man. His face was covered in blood. There was another man in the circle; he had a trench coat and a hat on. He shoved the bloody faced man to the ground and snarled, “Apologize!” The other man replied in the same gurgling voice, ” I would rather die than apologize!” Then the trench coat man pointed a gun at the bloody man and shot it. Harrison gasped and ran the other way. He quickly called the police. The whole gang was arrested. For a week, Harrison didn’t visit the booth. The scene still haunted him. But when the week passed, he started cleaning the booth again. However, he did not have as much enjoyment in cleaning it as before. After a month, the second call came.
Harrison didn’t pick it up. But it kept ringing. After thirty minutes, Harrison finally picked the phone up. He heard the fanfare of a news report. Then he heard a news reporter’s voice say, “We are at the scene of an accident involving a derailed train. Unfortunately, there was one death. It was of a man named Harrison Sinclair. The accident happened at 2:05 p.m..” Harrison’s eyes widened, his throat constricted, he looked at his watch: 2:05 p.m. Then he saw the train. He saw it derailing. And he saw it crashing through the booth. He was killed instantly. After the crash, the only thing that remained intact was the bronze plaque. And the Sinclairs were a whole family once again.
By Mark, Forest Edge Elementary School
November 20th, 2009
It was a rainy, gray and gloomy October afternoon. Mr Jones was sitting in his square, black beigh office, sipping his usual Friday coffee, and working on his newest case of the recently deceased Bill Finx, owner of probably the most popular personal technology corporation, Finx Industries. The man had died unusually and unexpectedly, causing a great shock to the industrial business. The way he looked after he was killed was top secret, and Mr Jones was one of the few people who knew how, and was puzzled by it. After stirring his coffee one more time, the man opened up his laptop and began scanning through documents, hoping to find some information about who or what could have caused the death. It seemed that a few days before he passed away, the company had discovered a new computer virus spreading throughout their system, and that it caused their data bases a tremendous amount of damage. “It was like a termite army, eating away bits and pieces of information. We were very devastated to find some new developments being devoured by that horrible program, and sadly haven’t yet discovered the virus’s original source or how to stop it,” Finx had stated at an interview. Jones mused over this piece of information.
As he opened another document he noticed a strange icon appear at the right hand corner of his computer screen. The man stared at the image. It was like a tiny swarm of black dots that kept multiplying in a pattern that looked like they were eating the screen. Jones was aghast, for he had never seen such a virtual yet terrifying thing. Then, a thought suddenly struck him. It might be the new computer virus that Finx was talking about! The dots kept increasing, almost halfway across the screen. Jones desperately launched for the off button, but no matter how hard or how many times he pressed, the computer never shut down. The man was in a panic. All of his priceless information, cases and documents could be transferring to an anonymous source right now! After hitting the button for the fiftieth time, Jones lost his hope, and with a dramatic sob, thrust is head in his hands on the table.
After a minute or two of moping around, Jones realized how stupid he had been to just sit here and that he had to go tell the maintenance to shut down all of the computers so that the virus couldn’t get to the other sources that held crucial information, but as he was about to rise from his leather chair, he noticed something utterly amazing and awful. The little black dots had completly filled up his screen and were now climbing out of his computer onto his hand. Jones screamed. The dots were in fact tiny mechanical malicious insects that were piercing his skin. There was mechanical buzzing everywhere. Their bites had paralyzed him and he couldn’t do anything but watch as the mini machines crawled under his skin, wondering if this was really happening. He felt their buzz and bodies fill his veins and head, and suddenly he couldn’t speak. The man silently collapsed onto the beigh tiled floor, his blank eyes widened and locked with fear forever.
An hour later, Belinda Burns, Mr Jones’ secretary, was going to tell him that he received mail from the London Headquarters. As she opened the door, the first thing she saw was Mr Jones’ laptop in front of the door, broken in half, with all of it’s wiring sticking out in a very upturned fashion. Jones’ chair was turned around so that she couldn’t see it’s front, but Mr Jones appeared to have been sitting with his back to her. “Jerry, you receive-” her words had turned into a scream, for right at that moment, the chair swiveled around and she could clearly see that out of Mr Jones’s body and flesh crawled out a giant black mechanical steel spider composed of a strange shape-shifting web, with Mr Jones’s grotesque head lifelessly wired in at the top.
Kat Vlasova
November 19th, 2009
Today I was chosen for Star of the Week, which is an activity we do in the homeroom. If you are selected for Star of the Week, you get to take home a cute teddy bear named Hamish Hanover, Hamish is to be toured around the town and photographed doing something. All of his adventures will be summarized and sent to Ms. Graham, who will share it with our Scottish counterparts.
For the week, I took Hamish to three diferent places. They were my neighborhood, the local indoor hockey rink, and the tennis courts where I practice my tennis skills. I will describe what happened to Hamish and me.
Hamish was really impressed with the skating rink. It has two levels - the first level is the NHL rink (National Hockey League) and the second level is the Olympic rink. Here I play hockey, which is also one of my most favorite sports. I introduced Hamish to my teammates. My team is called “Black Ice” and is currently tied at the first place with the Red team.
Next I brought Hamish to the tennis courts in the bubble where I can play all year round. I usually take private lessons, and I consider myself to be much skilled in tennis. I have a wonderful coach who makes me work hard in my technique. Tennis is my favorite sport, and I enjoy it very much. My favorite professional player of all time is Roger Federer who is currently the world’s number one.
After all of my activities, I finally went to the neighborhood. We moved to this house a few months ago. It is great for me because practically all my friends are at the neighborhood. We usually bike together and play a game called Nerf wars, which is generally a game where two teams are split up into two armies. They go to war over each other. We fight with plastic guns that shoot out foam darts. They are called Nerf guns.
One of the coolest features of our house is that it has a park behind it. Hamish and I went for a walk together and saw grasshoppers on the trail. On the way back home, we actually spotted a four inch long Praying Mantis. They are one of the dominent insects because of their hunting method. They can even catch small birds!
I think being Star of the Week was enjoyable. Taking Hamish around Reston was just dandy. I hope I will have a chance to meet the Scottish bear once again.
November 19th, 2009
All the way from Virginia USA, the Reading Bus is very pleased to present a special PodCast from our American friends in time for Thanksgiving (this year on 26th November). The show features an awesome line-up of confident and talented young presenters telling us about their life in Forest Edge, including
- top ten favourite places, songs, books movies
- interviews with staff from the school and Miss Graham who’s on exchange from Aberdeen
- messages to Hanover St school
- wild ads for some of America’s unique cultural icons
- and lots lots more!
Forest Edge - November 12th 2009:
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November 12th, 2009
Jenny Watson, Reading Bus co-ordinator, presents a round-up of the various projects the Reading Bus has been busily involved with since the Summer holidays. In addition special guest, storyteller Les Wheeler, reads some afa fine original Doric tales.
Reading Bus - 5th November 2009:
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November 5th, 2009
