Right to Write Competition

11 May Right to Write Competition

Right to Write Competition: Winners Announced!

Last term the Literacy team introduced JRCS’s first ever Right to Write creative writing competition.  The idea was first sparked after Student Voice feedback commented that one of the things they enjoyed the most about the scheme was its chance to engage with their subjects imaginatively.  In response to this, the school initiated an exciting opportunity for students to apply the skills they had learnt in lesson throughout the year.

 

The challenge for KS3 students was to write a piece of descriptive writing and they had only two rules: they must write no more than two hundred and fifty words and it must be set during the Victorian period. These two rules challenged students to write concisely and to engage with the GCSE English curriculum that students explore at KS4.

 

Unsurprisingly, many students committed to the challenge and even attended a creative writing workshop during their own time in order to expand on their skills. Not only did the entries show commitment to their learning and flair in their literacy skills, but they also highlighted the independent study skills which are so important for KS4.

 

After an extremely tough choice, Rojas Bendikas (8C) was selected as JRCS’s first ever Right to Write Creative Writing winner, with Ellie Lapping (9F) and Adiyat Sharif (7B) coming in second and third place respectively. Mr Smith personally congratulated these students with a certificate and prize during KS3 assembly; they will also attend an exciting creative writing workshop held by The British Library next term.  A number of other students will join them who have been nominated by their teachers for their excellent work with Right to Write across all departments.

 

It is clear that the scheme has been a huge success this year and we hope that you enjoy reading some of the entries!

Right to Write Entry Winners:

Rojas Bendikas – 8C

The murky streets of London. Nothing but people. The lower class were hiding in the corners of the alleyway like vampires, running off as sunny spells cast themselves upon the depressing street. It is just how they decide to live. I can see men in bowler hats in the public marketplace. The doctor was shouting intensely, “Only a few pence, I know what could be wrong!”

 

They disappoint me. Doctors. Surgeons like me can fix wounds.

 

Silently, I roam the streets as I return to my humble abode.

 

The cruel stench of human faeces enters and begins to stab at my senses. Disgusting! After an operation on a man’s spine, all I can think of is how everyone around me is so… imperfect.

 

Suddenly, a poster begins to peel away from the wall. It transcripts, ‘Springhead Jack’. I know about him. He was a ruthless killer who targets the sick, disables or those who recently had surgery.

 

They thought I was him.

 

For that reason, most of my customers disappeared after a few weeks. The stickiness of the floor crashes my train of thought withy another. I must go back to my humble home! I took out my brass keys and peered upon the raining sooty snow. My nostrils indulged in the smell of metal and bone.

I remarked, “How was the surgery, Sir O’Reilly?” But when I turned my head, with my neck aching, my eyes began twitching as I saw him.

 

He looked worse, with his neck ripped up, showing all of his vertebrae. Split. His eyes expressed a feeling of surprise and his jaw was broken. A left hand was missing whilst his chest was embellished with a crimson red Satan’s scar.

 

Frantically, I unlocked the door and returned inside. I’ve seen too many of these… accidents. I just need to sleep. This Springhead Jack has to stop!

I have to stop making them look better…

 

Ellie Lapping – 9F

Majestic.

Dainty hands covered in expensive lace clutched her napkin tightly as she ate. The lace was as white as snow, weaving in and out; a floral pattern that matched her perfectly. A highly priced table hid the lowest part of her luxurious dress, yet she was still flawless. The visible part of her attire shone. Red regal ruffles extended around to her spine effortlessly. Velvet cuffs embraced her shoulders smoothly. She was an honourable figure.

 

As she ate, she spilled nothing. None of her finely cooked foods were wasted. The tableware she used was a mirror of her perfection. Cutlery clinked calmly, reflecting her silence. She allowed the pleasant scents to captivate her while she closed her eyes in appreciation. Everything she did immaculately.

 

However, only she was orderly. The formal glass table was cluttered with arbitrary paraphernalia that had nothing to do with her or her cuisine. There was a peculiar sense of eeriness in the air along with her pure existence. Something made me uneasy. Something told me she wasn’t an innocent angel. Something told me to abandon her immediately.

 

Adiyat Sharif – 7B

The Ball of Hampton Court

It was the end of another busy day when I got the biggest surprise ever.

 

I saw a mysterious box sitting in the corner of the attic and I wondered, “What is that odd looking box over there?” Without thinking, I went to see what the mysterious box was only to find that it was a portal through time and history.

 

I found myself in the heart of Victorian London wearing the most elegant dress I’d ever seen, it was decorated with ribbons and lace and it was made out of the softest silks and velvets and I was wearing a fancy hat adorned with feathers and jewels.

I saw my friend Jenni in an equally elegant dress and hat and her fine hound Trix wearing a posh garter around his neck.

 

We were on the streets of London when a horse-pulled coach pulled by and the coachman said to us, “What are you two doing in the middle of the night? This is no place for such fine ladies like yourselves to be.”

 

The coachman helped us get into the coach and we already on our way and as the coach drove along the, a putrid odour filled my nostrils. I held my nose and yelled “POOH! What is that awful stench?”

 

The coachman replied, “it’s horse poo, dreadful isn’t it?” After a long ride, we reached a huge manor house, the coachman helped us get off the coach, and we strolled down the path to the most extravagant manor house we had ever seen.

 

A lady dressed in an elegant dress welcomed me, Jenni and Trix, the lady introduce herself “good evening I’m Lady Mary welcome to Hampton Court” It was pretty clear that Lady Mary was an animal lover when she looked at Trix and said to Jenni “what a fine hound you have.”

 

Lady Mary showed us around Hampton Court, I was beginning to smell a rat when we approached the entrance to the garden.

My suspicions were confirmed when we entered the garden and stumbled across a dead body.

 

Trouble was stirring around Hampton Court…