Hopeloos. Heerlik. Hemels.
My Grade 10 English First Additional Language pupils regularly complete creative writing exercises.
With these we explored narrative, descriptive and reflective writing, and I am immensely proud of the results. I gladly share some of their work with the world.
For obvious reasons their identities are witheld, but they know who they are.
Well done, Ladies.
Unwanted, unloved and unvalued. She is only still a minor, yet she is abandoned. She wants to go play with the other girls in a kingdom, but her body remains on the chilly, damp sand.
She sits on the beach with her hands covered in sand, the ocean-water is washing over her feet. Her body is shivering of the cold, her skin covered in goosebumps.
Her hazel-hiar is waving in the wind as majestic as a princess's, only she does not feel like one. Her only protection is her oversized, dull-looking jersey. He mom or someone who used to care for her gave it to her, but they blew away with the wind to a better place, without her.
A storm is looming on the outskirts. the sky is turning an awful grey colour. The booming thunder is making her heart beat as fast as an African drum.
She tries to hide as quick as the sandsnails, but there is nowhere to go. She falls face-down in the sand and she curls her tiny body up into a small ball. She buries her face in her knees and her hands protect her ears from the loud monster.
Her scarlet vital fluid is pulsing through her body, trying to make her warm from the inside, but it is too late, for she has already gone.
Her soul is already playing with the other girls in a magnificent kingdom, filled with flowers and fresh fruit. Her body will remain on the chilly, damp sand, being unwanted, unloved and unvalued.
It's late on this winter's afternoon. The sun is splashing flames across the thinning clouds as the rain pours, and that is when I see her, a little girl all alone. She is tiny, yet her crying eyes hold things no child should see. Her small feet are bare and brown from the mud in which they stand. Her dark, thick locks wet and soaked, sticking to her little face, her clothes barely something you would wear in winter. She shivers as she stands awaiting someone or something's return. Maybe she even looks a bit lost.
I slowly come to a silent halt. I look at this perfect picture of broken innocence, and walk over to her. Before I reach her, she starts crying again, and in no time I am holding her wet body to mine. She grabs hold of me and nuzzles up into my neck as she cries.
I ask her name and she sniffles a little before pulling away. Her brown, big eyes immediately trusting a complete stranger. Yet no words are exchanged as she looks me in the eye and a smile appears.
Her smile is a sad one, yet kind and trusting. I ask her name again as I take her minuscule hands in mine, returning the smile. She shakes her head, droplets shooting out of her dark mane.
"Do you not have a name?" I ask as she skakes her head, just to nod at my question.
I look at her sadly, knowing she was left behind, forgotten, by people she had trusted and loved. I scoop her up and carry her home, where she will have a name.
This topic was a netball shooting into a hoop. The picture used is not supported in this format.
"Come on, Shelly, I will help you get back on court. We all want you back," Nadia begged.
After Shelly's knee injury, she wasn't allowed to play netball for a month. Her best friend, Naida, was visiting her every afternoon to shoot a few hoops. Shelly was physically healed, but emotionally terrified.
She knew that if she went back she would be the U/19 Netball Captain again. People would expect the very best of her, and she wasn't as good as before. When Shelly told Nadia her real reason for not wanting to go back, Nadia laughed.
"Oh, "Shelly, I will help you to be even better than before your injury. Yes, people will keep their eyes on you, so give them something impressive to look at. Trust me, all you need is me, you, a ball and God. with all f that, you will be good again. And remember to enjoy!
After a few days, Shelly was back on court. On the first day, she wanted to impress her other teammates and coach by running fast, jumping up and down and scoring goals. Just when she wanted to score again, her knee cramped. She shrunk to pieces on the ground.
Nadia immediately went to help Shelly. She told her not to overdo things. Patience means recovering.
Shelly struggled not to overexert herself and after four weeks, she was better than she had ever been before.
On 17 June, the Tigers played against their enemy, The Whales. With the score 3-6 in favour of The Whales, Shelly called ltime-out. She motivated her team and reminded them to enjoy the match. The score-board evened out after 5 minutes and in the very last two seconds Shelly received the ball, she aimed and ...
"This is where I belong," Shelly whispered. "Thank you, God!"