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Y7 & Y8 Writers' Club

Year 7 & 8 Writers' Club is a club run by Mrs Olhausen, Head of English.  Click on the names below to view some of the boys' stories and poems.

Some of the work was inspired by Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected and was part of a competition we ran. Our study of ‘A Christmas Carol’ and World War 1 poetry has also proved inspirational.

Note from the Head of English:  It is felt important that boys who remain at The Beacon until they are thirteen years old are able to explore issues and ideas which would not be routinely encountered in the primary school years.  In this way they begin to develop emotionally, as well as enjoying writing.  The boys are encouraged to write independently and to choose their own subjects upon which to write.  We are keen to encourage their creativity and to let them examine writing genres which they may have encountered in class or in their independent reading.  Sometimes the older members of the club may write about 'teenage' topics which they have encountered in their reading, in film or in PSHE lessons and this is acceptable if it is part of a developed piece of writing.

Jay R

The Grumpy Grocer’s Christmas

Once upon a time there was a grocer; the only grocer in the village. It is important that you know this otherwise the story will not make sense. This grocer was very grumpy. No one knew why he was but they all knew he was. His name was Gordon Gramsay. 

It had been seven Christmases since his equally bad-tempered butcher friend had died. Due to this far from tragic event – he was a hated man, alike Gordon – his business was given to the greedy grocer. Every year, this spiteful man became richer, more greedy and somehow managed to become even more selfish than the year before. On the fourth year, he became the richest man in Amerchesham, the village that he lives in which was one of his goals. But money has a cost and he would soon have to pay a huge debt.
As I said earlier, it had been seven years since old friend had died, and he had achieved his goal as the richest man in Amerchesham. But this horrible person was also the most hated man in the village. Being the owner of the only grocery in town, he was relied on by the people for fruit and vegetables. But he was no friendly businessman and would sell his food at unreasonably high prices, letting the poor starve and the rich, have their money drained into his ever-expanding wallet.

He had two workers at his grocery, who got paid the minimum wage. Their names were William and Wendy. They hated Mr Gramsay for his unkind attitude towards anyone except the importers who brought the food for his shop in. Every year, the price would go up and he would never lower them, not even for Christmas. He would say ‘Humbug’ as if he was Scrooge. But as Scrooge did, he needed and will have to change.

On Christmas Eve, William and Wendy asked Mr Scrooge whether he would lower the price of the food for Christmas. They would ask him this every year and sometimes would ask if they could get a Christmas bonus or the whole day off. But he was as stubborn as ever and would not allow. “One day this will come to bite back at you, and your cold heart shall be melted!” William said, filled with disappointment. “It’s Christmas, spare a thought for the cold, and hungry.” Wendy exclaimed but their efforts were useless as nothing could sway Gordon. The two workers tried changing his mind and kept on begging until Mr Gramsay reached breaking point. He jumped up in his chair and with rage, he shouted: “GET OUT OF MY SHOP. You can have the whole day off. Christmas is just an excuse for the poor and a curse for the rich. CHRISTMAS IS NOTHING!” and with that, his workers ran out with glee over their little victory.
That night when Gordon was at home watching Saturday night television in his over-sized mansion, a huge lightning bolt struck through his window and onto his sixty-five inch, plasma, 3D, curved LG television. The channel immediately switched from the national lottery to a series of texts on screen. It kept switching between ‘You will pay if you don’t change’ and ‘How dare you say “CHRISTMAS IS NOTHING”’ Gordon was starting to feel uneasy, starting to feel scared. Then with a final bolt of lightning, the television turned off and a blue, translucent figure started clambering out of the curved LG.

Gordon was horrified and was cowering behind his chair, trembling like an earthquake. The blue creature was human in figure and had a recognisable face. In Gordon’s case, a very recognisable face as it was the one of his late friend. Bernard the butcher. He was covered in scars and looked like he had been to places you would not like to see or go. He had a big scar down his face which went through his eye that had no pupil. His arms were tied behind his back in cuffs and so were his legs. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit as well which made him look like a prisoner.

Gordon took all the little courage he had and crawled forward to ask: “Bernard, my old dead friend, what brings you here?” The ghoul shrieked back in reply and said “I’m not actually here, I can never escape the prison after what I’ve done. I’m simply using my one phone call. But it is not very much like a phone, or call.” Gordon implored about what prison he was at and the ghastly figure replied with “THE PRISON OF HELL!” And continued: “All the nasty things I have done, I will have to repay hell in a hundred year sentence. I am here to save you from this fate. My chance of success is low with an ignorant and selfish man like you but I will try.”

Gordon was shocked by this story and was scared to death about the idea of a sentence and asked what he could do to change his fate. “Right now,” answered the ghoul “you have a five-hundred year sentence. You need to do the opposite of all these crimes.” He listed them out. They ranged from treating his workers nicely and fairly to donating to the poor. Also lowering his unfair food prices and being friendly to all people instead of treating them as lower class citizens. His worst crime gave him a one hundred and fifty years and that was for not believing in Christmas. The ghoul suggested that he should buy his workers a full Christmas meal as they could only afford a turkey and a few potatoes.
If he didn’t manage to do this, he could end up in chains like Bernard. So he took all his advice, ready to make a change tomorrow, which was Christmas. Before the ghost left, he said: “This is just in case you don’t change” and thwacked the grocer around the head, knocking him out and left back through the television.
Christmas came quickly as if only a second had passed between Gordon being knocked out and him awaking to a snowy morning. Outside the window, Gordon could see children having snowball fights – as well as adults – and people hustling and bustling down the street wishing Merry Christmas. He was about say: “OH, what a humbug” but then remembered all that happened last night and kept his trap shut. He noticed that all the people were carrying their meats to their houses or friends' houses with minimal potatoes and almost no groceries. He overheard one mum saying: “Sorry Jim, my son, we simply can’t afford carrots this Christmas” and it all came clear to Gordon Gramsay sprouting a magnificent idea.

He dashed out of his house and in his Lexus, drove down to his grocery shop. Hastily, he got out of his car and entered his trade place. He got out his portable wooden stall and pushed it into the middle of the street. Everyone naturally gathered around, confused about what was going on. He got out his carrots, parsnips, potatoes, brussel sprouts and other Christmas fruit and veg and stuck to his stall: SEASONAL FRUIT AND VEG FOR ONLY 10p EACH. But he then decided that that was not enough so he changed the price to read FREE. 

People nervously walked over to his stall and it was a tall man to make the first purchase “Um, ‘scuse me, can I have some carrots, parsnips and cranberries. Gordon took out the three ingredients and gave him two mega packs of them. The crowd gasped as if it could not be true. “I said that if Gordon was to sell something for free, pigs could fly. I guess they’re flying.” Shouted a women. More and more people came and after a slow start, people realised that he had changed, for the spirit of Christmas. He kept selling till noon when he was nearly out of stock. Smiles were upon the faces of all the people because they knew that they were no longer going to have minimal Christmas Dinners

After Mr Gramsay had put all his stuff away, he gathered an uncooked Christmas dinner. He gathered some mince pies, cakes and all types of desserts, seasonal vegetables and fruit – top of the range. He also got the finest turkey for miles around and many pigs in blankets. He brought them back to his house and laid out a banquet fit for a king. It had luxury cutlery, designer plates in velvety chairs. Now he needed guests. Oh so many guests if he wanted no leftovers.

Gordon went to William’s house first, He knocked on the door of the semi-detached and awaited an answer. He overheard a feminine voice saying “I didn’t think we were expecting any more guests.” And a familiar voice belonging to William saying “Me neither, mum. I’ll go get it” And the door swung open to reveal William. He was shocked to see Gordon at the door and hesitantly asked why he was here. “If you would first let me in” said Gordon. William allowed him inside and showed him his family. There was fifteen of him. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces. The whole lot. They were all sat around a small table with scarce amount of food. The house was run-down and it was lit by candles probably because the lights were broken or that they couldn’t pay electricity bills. And it was only at this moment that Gordon realised what a horrible man he was. He also saw that no matter how poor they were, they all had a smile across their face showing the true meaning of family and most important: Christmas.

“I’m sorry.” That was all that Gordon said. He sat down and told the family who he was and the experience with the ghost and that he would be a changed man from now on. “Starting with a five-hundred percent pay rise. And I also have a surprise for you. You seem to have a small dinner ready because I know you couldn’t afford a huge meal with the unfair amounts I pay you. So I have an uncooked Christmas dinner at home and if you would like to come and enjoy the food with Wendy’s family then come on down to my house.” Smiles lit up on all their faces as he took them into his house. He then went over to Wendy’s house and did the same thing.

Once everyone was there, they all helped make the huge banquet. They needed to bake, fry, boil, roast, marinade, peel, sauté and clean the food. The younger ones after laying the table, received Christmas presents from Mr Gramsay and played with them in another room. Once the food was ready and they all gathered in their seats, hypnotised by the best aroma that had ever entered their lungs, Gordon called for a toast. “To the true meaning of Christ-“ but he was interrupted by Wendy and William who in unison said: “To Gordon Gramsay, a changed man” and everyone agreed by the sound of glass clinking against glass. And with that, they began their meal.
From that day forward, Gordon was a changed man. He was the most liked and the most popular man in town and got elected for mayor of the village. He didn’t realise that he could be good and how satisfying it felt to help. He really could not describe how much he wanted to thank Bernard for warning him of his fate. He tried going through the television to find him but that landed Gordon in hospital. But every so often, when he glances here and there, he sees Bernard wink at him in the crowd but when he looks back, he’s gone. He was no longer Gordon Gramsay the Grumpy Grocer but Gordon Gramsay the Great Grocer…. And Mayor of Amerchesham.


Max W

 A Modern Christmas Carol

 The Inevitable Death

 WWI Recruitment Speech

 The Roman Shapeshifter

The Perfect Murder
Smiling Death
Death by Haribo

Part 1

A malevolent shadow slipped in through the open shutters sliding across the cold concrete and slowly crept up the musty wooden bed.  It crawled up-to the man's face and dropped something slowly into his sleeping mouth. Moments later the man retched and rose clawing at his throat. Finally he collapsed blood pouring from his mouth.

The next day, Alfred struggled to breathe, with every breath drawing closer to his last. Eventually he fell to his knees and cried in agony and madness to the sky 'Why me, your creator?' That night Alfred watched the clock tick slowly towards his inevitable death.

Two long nights later a man dressed in scrubs loomed over the body: he had a mousy moustache and a baseball cap lolling backwards. He was staring down at the mans mouth, smiling but missing a tooth. He lifted a black a hood and slid it over the dead man's head and down over the body. As the hood was descending the man recalled just minutes ago of walking up a narrow lane with tall hedges on each side and vaguely seeing a small shadow slipped past, familiar to the shape of a young boy. The scrub man dismissed the thought, he had a job to do as a professor. The hood carpeted the body like a black malicious cloud. The man turned and slowly dragged the body away. Alfred was gone.

That night the man in scrubs entered a hospital ward and left the body on the doorstep. The man in scrubs vanished down a dark opening like a gaping mouth and a little while later a bloodied scrub top was found. The scrub top had belonged to a famous Professor.

A young boy was strolling along the street with his laces undone, staring into the shop fronts and taking sneaky looks at a couple of girls relaxing on a bench. Carrying on, the boy slipped into a shop and grabbing a packet of his favorite sweets, Haribos, he wandered up to the desk where he faced a scrawny man with a bowler hat shoved onto a pile of untidy hair."Hi Damian, still got a sweet tooth" in reply Damian politely said "Yeah Tim I adore Haribos". After buying the sweets the boy wandered out of the shop up the road and chewing contently he proceeded to wolf whistle at a couple of girls and breaking off at a run he slipped down an alley.

That hellish night the scrawny man equipped with his bowler hat twisted the key, locking the door of his shop, and strode into the night. He passed a couple of late night joggers and a young boy who was out a little late, perhaps too late. The man omitted this thought and turning down an alley he briskly strode down the passage. The alleyway was more over a corridor you had to go through two doors which connected a roof over the back street. The scrawny man opened the first door, and began to get a strange sensation in his neck as if all of the hair was standing on end; something was wrong but again he ousted this thought and turned the handle for the other door but it did not open, it was stuck as was the other door. Neither door opened that night, in the morning a bowler hat was found alongside his body perfectly calm in death, smiling but missing two teeth. After a series of investigations, a Haribo was found lodged in his throat.

Damian was strolling across a street staying unnoticed by all but the keenest eyed observer, not deliberately. Damian grimaced revealing five missing teeth like ugly black holes in a beautiful mouth. He settled on the bench overlooking the whole street and began to read a magazine, sometime peeping over the top at a particular man, a man with a mousy mustache widely known as a Professor of Infectious Diseases. He was studying a bowler hat in obvious curiosity, surrounded by a gaggle of police he cast his eyes up and down the street before settling back on the bowler.

Damian stood and walked back to the alley where he began to prepare. He knew the professor had a lovely set off teeth...

Part 2

That night a pernicious fog descended. The professor was walking home. A young boy was jogging on the same street. The boy was dressed in running shorts and sunglasses as though he had been running through the day. The boy darted forwards snatched the mans briefcase. The man chased, as if it was only natural. The boy shot down a dark alley and the professor followed close on the boy’s heels. The boy reappeared after going through two doors, the man never did. Afterwards a Haribo was found...
Later, the man was found smiling and lying with his hands on his lap as if he had dozed off. The gruesome side was his smile: he was smiling but minus two teeth... 

At the scene of the crime the officers studied the corpse. It had been discovered by a young boy who had said he was going too meet his mates when he found the body. The boy’s name was Damian and he had flashed the officers a smile with a full row of teeth...

The officers were quietly discussing the crime and one of them said "I'm sure if we looked hard enough we would find those missing teeth". Damian chuckled quietly. 

The End


Oliver O

Loneliness. Nobody quite prepares you for the pain of that emotion. Of course, in prison you are not to expect a friendly greeting at the door. My mind can no longer withstand the force of no one being there. I can no longer remember the memories that once held me together. Why am I here? What have I done to be behind steel bars? My wife. She plays a part in my imprisonment. Something was off that day; she was not herself. My wife was hiding something. I was eager to understand what the secret was. Her face was stubborn and would not give in to my mind games. She kept telling me that it was nothing yet in her eyes I could tell it was something; something very important; something such as love. From that day forward I knew I was not the only man in her life. All that is left of my memory is the fear in her eyes and her pleading, telling me not to do it. I did it. But what I did, I cannot remember.

No words can describe prison. It is a mad house playing host to many tortured souls. Those souls have tortured others. It is all a waiting game; waiting for freedom that will never arrive. My roommate forever threatened to hurt me however I felt pity for this murderer for he had a lifelong sentence and could never escape. My room contained my deathbed which would keep me awake for many hours at night.  Privacy was not welcomed; guards would watch you until the sky was black. Our daily attire was also our evening wear and pyjamas. All I ever knew was taken and thrown away until I was weak at the knees. I have thought about running. But where would I go? After all my home was now my hell, with the devil herself guarding it. In other words, prison was not a place you would ever want to visit and a place you could never leave.

The first days made their way steadily like a bird’s first flight but as I accustomed to the prison surroundings the days began to go quicker until I began to lose track of time. That was when I realised that I was no longer normal; I was a criminal. What bothered me most was the feeling of unknown. Why could I not remember what I had done? All I knew was that it was bad. Again I began to think about leaving after all others had done it before and succeeded. But that was when it dawned on me. Even if I left, prison will forever be my life; my head will forever be covered and confused with guilt. Guilt. I am not the innocent one anymore. I am the one in the wrong.

I suddenly saw a shadow. It felt life like my soul was silently slipping away into darkness. The figure slowly walking towards me. I knew at that point that I had to escape. But how? I kept awake for the next forty-five hours plotting my escape. It started as a fantasy; something to occupy me, yet the closer I got, the more real it became. I had a deadline and it was close coming. I was ready.