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Original story - Ghoulston Academy

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Old April 28th, 2018 (12:26 AM). Edited April 28th, 2018 by FlaafyFTW.
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FlaafyFTW FlaafyFTW is offline
Researcher of Orange Lore
    Join Date: May 2009
    Location: Silph Co.
    Gender: Male
    Posts: 87
    So here goes. I know this is primarily a pokemon-based fanfic section but in an effort to add a little variety, here's something completely different.

    I've started writing for different audiences lately, after usually having ideas for teenage or adult fiction I thought I'd mix it up a bit and try writing for children (around age 10) and see what happens. Any criticism - good or bad - or thoughts, especially if you have any younger ones around, would be greatly appreciated!

    Chapter 1 – Parents’ Evening of Doom

    Parents’ Evening – it’s terrifying. Everything about it is wrong: the school being open at night, the teachers talking all differently in their posh voices, heck, even the furniture gets moved around so the corridors can become waiting areas!

    It’s practically a set-up. Teachers do it a few times each year so that they can make our lives more miserable by telling on us to our parents, often without us there to defend ourselves. We spend most of our time either at school with the dull teachers or at home with the boring parents – the last thing we need is for them to be in the same place – TOTAL snoozefest!

    But anyway, I’m getting carried away…

    Now, I’m here to talk about one specific parents’ evening, my first ever at Ghoulston Academy and boy, it was anything but boring!


    It seemed like any other parents’ evening at any other school. The lights were on, the coffee mugs were full and the appointments were almost all overrunning. Children and their parents sat outside their classrooms nervously as they waited for the teacher to call out their name. I’d been to six schools in three years and I’d always see the same thing every time.

    For some kids, you could see the guilt and dread on their faces as if they were waiting for the axeman to come and chop off their heads; they’d start sweating, fidgeting and give their parents that nervous kind-of smile that says, ‘I know you’re going to come out of that classroom angry after you talk to my teacher but please don’t take away my PS4’.

    For others, they would happily laugh and joke while they wait, flicking through their work books, eager to show their parents all the house points they had earned from their ‘excellent’ and ‘outstanding’ work (all the while secretly wondering how many good pieces of work they had to show them in order to get that new toy from Amazon that they’d been not-so-secretly hinting for all month).

    I’d only been at the academy for two weeks so I knew I wouldn’t have much to show off but you know what parents are like, they need to know everything you’re doing. All. The. Time.

    As soon as we got there, teachers I’d only seen around once or twice greeted the parents at the door and then handed us over to one of the student helpers who just happened to be Sunshine Sarah.

    “Well a happy parents’ evening hello to you, Max!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the corridors. “You must be SO super excited for your first one, huh? I just know that Mr Banks is gonna have SO many great things to say about you!”

    You can tell why she’s called Sunshine Sarah, right? Every person at Ghoulston seems to have a nickname like that and everyone knows them. Well, everyone except me – it was a lot to learn in a few weeks.

    Before I knew it, we were in the Year 5 corridor and Mum, Gretchen and me sat down on the long row of chairs. Mum sat down looking at work emails on her phone while my older sister blew bubbles with her gum, listening to rock music through her headphones.

    I did a quick scan of the room and only knew a handful of faces. Bogie Brian was in his own world digging for gold up his nose, Stuck-up Shamia was playing with her nails, pretending not to notice that Tommy the Drooler was staring at her, Drama Dan was in the corner practising his fake crying (just in case) and Moody Mark was being marched out of the building by his parents who looked angrier than my sister did the time I tested whether her phone was waterproof or not (it wasn’t).

    Then came the booming voice of Miss Bellhorn, a tall, formidable hulk of a woman who lived in “the cave”, the class next to mine.

    “Thomas. Redford.” She called out, each syllable expertly pronounced at just the right volume to send a chill running down your spine.

    Tommy’s attention was suddenly snapped back onto school. immediately, the colour drained from his face as his parents shepherded him towards the cave. He wasn’t going in but Bellhorn had a chair right outside the classroom door where the student would have to sit during the consultation. It wasn’t close enough to hear anything that was said, but I could see where Bellhorn would get the idea from – it was great fun to watch them squirm and panic!

    The thing was – I knew what Mr Banks was going to say, it was the same thing they always say: “We haven’t known Max for long but he doesn’t apply himself in class”, or, “if he tried harder, he could do incredibly well”; the phrase “bad attitude” was a popular one too. I knew them all like the back of my hand, I could have played bingo with the things the teachers would say about me! It’s just that… I wasn’t interested: nothing exciting EVER seemed to happen in school.

    A tall and skinny figure appeared at the doorway to my classroom: it was Mr Banks, holding his trusty clipboard. As far as teachers go, he’s one of the better ones I’ve had. He never takes himself too seriously but everyone still knows where the line is with him.

    “Maximillian.” He announced, giving me a look with his eyes, knowing full-well that I hate being called by my “proper” name.

    “Here we go again!” I thought as we made our way to the classroom.

    Just as we approached the doorway, an almighty BANG echoed down the corridor followed by a rough, animal-like roar. Everyone turned to look but I could barely see through the crowd of cupboards and people, and suddenly, the entire corridor started screaming and running towards us – towards the exit.

    Mr Banks rolled his eyes and sighed, “Okay everyone, you know the drill, make your way outside please…” He said, very unenthusiastically, trailing off halfway through his sentence as if this was something completely ordinary.

    It was like a stampede of humans running in all directions! People darted in and out of each other but what were they running from? Just then I heard another roar from behind me, I turned to see something I’ll never forget – a green-skinned, sharp-nailed, ripped-clothed zombie charging straight towards me!

    I jumped out of the way as it charged past me and it carried on running down the corridor. As I got up, I noticed that there were at least two more of them in the corridor – what looked like two boys and a girl. They grunted and growled like animals as they jumped and swiped at people with their claw-like hands. It was crazy – zombies in a school!

    Miss Bellhorn appeared from the cave, seething with rage at her appointment being interrupted, not quite realising what was happening, when one of the boy zombies lunged for the big juicy meat of her arm and sunk his teeth into it! Bellhorn barely reacted and shook the zombie off as if it was nothing – what a woman!

    Suddenly, I felt something tug at my arm – it was my mum! I hadn’t even noticed that her and Gretchen had disappeared until mum re-appeared next to me!

    “Max – we need to leave!” She cried, practically dragging me out of the building.

    “But Mum,” I protested, “I want to stay in school – this place is awesome!”
    Catch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all; gotta catch 'em all - Pokemon! :P
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