Tuesday, 30 July 2013

'Solve it'

Our new Inquiry topic is 'Solve it' which looks into finding solutions for environmental conflicts. Our first activity was to look at day-to-day conflicts we face in school.

What solutions could you find for this conflict? 
A friend who sits next to you in class always borrows your pencils, ruler and glue stick. One day you don’t have a pencil and you ask to borrow one of hers. She says no. What can you do?

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Armchair stories

We enjoyed reading Room 3 Balmacewen's scary stories about an armchair, so we wrote our own.



Shivers wheeled down the nerves of my quivering arm like lightning crashing down on white metal as my hand neared the door knob. I was not sure what was behind that door, but all I knew was that it was something ferocious, mysterious and deadly. My blood curdled at the thought. The door opened with a screech of terror, but all my mortal eyes could see was a plain, ordinary, chair. I turned and looked again, but the same brown seat still sat there, staring into space. I left the room, grabbed some rope, a torch, pillows, a pan and a large bread knife to set off and find what this chair. I tied the billows around my waist and chest and tied the pan onto my  head as a helmet held the torch in one hand and grasped the knife in the other. I am ready. I stalked down to the rotten door, once more shivers occupied my arms, I open the door and keep it open with a pillow in case I am in need of a swift escape. I creep into the dark room, leaving the safety of the door when suddenly the lights explode, shattered glass coating the floor as smog and smoke swirls around in the room. Dark, cold and blind I flick on my torch to see a giant chair, claws bending out of the spiraled arms and feet, jagged teeth, silently snarling “come child, you look tired. Take a seat!”
Orange eyes, glaring into mine, feeding off my fear, seeping into my sole. I was in a trance, as he lured me to sit on his prickly seat I saw a mouth open in the seat, tongue whipping through the air, spit flying. It was no ordinary chair.
by Emma 


The armchair sat in an empty, darkened room, a ring of dust lining the floor surrounding it. It was a deep red colour but faded and ripped from lack of care. Floorboards creaked as I walked through the open door, leaving the light of the outside world behind me. Darkness was suffocating me, its arms wrapping around me and squeezing the air out of me. The room was empty and paint was peeling off the rotting walls. My footsteps left marks in the thick layer of dust. No one had been here in many years. I was the first person to come in here after it happened. A trail of bones lined the floor. They too were covered in dust and were half rotting away.  The closer I got to the armchair, the more I feared what was on it. My heart beating in my ears was the only thing I could hear in the deafening silence. As I walked towards the chair, I felt the floorboards break away under my feet and my heart dropped into my stomach. I managed to dodge the falling wood as I stared into the darkness below. The thing sitting in the chair moved and I finally got a glimpse of what was sitting there. Its arms were bony and it sat there. It was a skeleton with glowing red eyes that stared at me. I felt a scream escape from my mouth as maniacal laughter filled air.
by Abby

The old house was abandoned, its paint flaking, cobwebs spanning the gaps where windows once stood. The door creaked and the hinges seemed to scream their protest when I set my shoulder to it. I padded along the hallway, over the smooth faceless grey dust, unmarked by any except my feet. At the end of the hallway is a room, the remains of curtains waving in the soft breeze. In the centre of the room sat the chair. Its cloth was faded and fraying, its cushions sunken and hollow. Bright colours dyed white from its current occupants. They perch on it, tugging out stuffing and springs, destroying all the things that make a chair a chair, not just a seat. They had ripped apart the chair, my chair, where I had sat all those years, hoping in vain for them to be safe, and come back to me. Now it is fit only for birds to make nests in, and memories to feed on. No family would ever live in this house again. Not now. It is to be demolished, as the chair has been, and my dreams of safety with it.
by Suzanna

The armchair plonks itself in the corner of our sitting room on top of the red rug. The deep sea blue always shines at midday when the glossy sun hits it, and the red creamy protector that is there to keep away scratches and stains stands out. As I creep into the sitting room, I look over at the armchair sitting by itself in the dark damp corner. Love fills my heart; and as I saunter over and jump into the soft cushions, that love grows stronger. I am enveloped into its warmth. I hear the TV rambling on in the background but I ignore that and just think about the special armchair that I am sitting in right now. I am not thinking straight, the armchair has seduced me with some sort of drug to make me sleepy. I am asleep within 2 minutes. My dream is all messed up and I am not thinking straight when I wake up. But all I know is that this armchair has some sort of magic to it.
by Samantha E

 


It seemed like I was walking for hours in the creepy, shadowy forest. Even though the forest was gloomy and unwelcoming I was glad to be out of my Grandparents house. The sweet sickly smell of the kitchen filled the whole house and I needed some fresh air, they would be fine without me for a little while anyway. As I inhaled the frigid air the smell of wet soil filled my nose making me feel woozy and tired. I stopped and looked around at my surroundings, there wasn’t much to see apart from trees and bushes, the sky wasn’t even visible because of the amount of leaves and branches. Although the sight wasn’t much to see, the sound was amazing. There were birds singing their happy songs in the treetops, bees were buzzing around busily and butterflies were fluttering around beautiful flowers as they sway gently in the wind. As I took in all of the beauty something red caught my eye. It was standing out from all the greenery around it almost glowing like a candle. I stared at it, confused on why something like this would be in the middle of nowhere. As I cautiously walked towards the object I realised it was what looked like a brand new armchair. The chair was facing away from me and I was eager to see what it was holding. I scrambled over and under the many roots that surrounded the chair. Every time I took a step the vines grabbed my legs not letting go as if they were saying ‘Don’t go, it’s too dangerous.” Despite the vines I kept walking roughly untangling them from my feet. When I got to the front my mouth dropped at I stared at a glowing human with wings…

by Samantha.H



As I walked through the path the leaves crunch under my boots like rotten bones. I can feel the wind passing through my hair slowly pushing it into my face. As I was trotting through I saw something. What was it?  I slowly walked up to it. It was an armchair. I went up and investigated it. I walked around It to gaze upon absolute horror... the armchair was covered in blood with a young girl in it.
“Hello,” I said. She didn’t reply. The armchair was covered in blood and the little girl was wearing a white dress with splattered blood on it. She had little blue shoes with bows on. “ You’re far away from home aren’t you?” she said as she pulled out a bloody knife.
By Trinity 


It was dark and empty as I entered the room. The power was out and all I had was a little lamp that was about to go out any second now. A big lumpy figure curled over as my bedroom lights started to flicker. The lights came on and for a weird reason an old dusty lumpy, armchair stood in the middle of my room. I stood looking at it, looking at its grey ripped fabric, looking at the 3 pillows that spread stuffing all over the seat of the chair. I turned to the door to get Mum and Dad, but something caught my eye. It looked like the fluff from one of the cats plus a cat’s tail. Looking closer I saw blood, a pile of it here with little dribbles there. Then I saw her my cat, dead as a doormat. She was half decapitated lying in between the first 2 pillows. I turned, started screaming and ran to the door, downstairs and into mum’s arms.
by Gracie