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Mid Term Break

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Thomas Brown 10R2 Mid Term Break 'Blah' 'Blah' 'Blah' was all I could understand as I gazed out of the open class window. I was in a total state of lapsed concentration as my physics teacher, Mr. Ripley, chattered on about the electromagnetic spectrum. Even the attraction of a couple of minutes out of class to see the headmaster didn't disrupt my thoughts. When, after the fourth attempt of trying to catch my attention, a senior teacher tapped me with his distinguished finger on my alarmed shoulder and I finally sat up and took notice. The classroom went silent and I sensed everybody's eyes turning to me. I turned bright red and my hand trembled as the teacher handed me a note informing me I was to see the headmaster. I wondered what I had done and so did most of the class I realized as the whispering and sniggering started. ...read more.


I didn't speak a word on the way home, questions were running through my head, how? where? why? All questions that were soon to be answered as we got closer to home. We pulled up in the drive my stomach churning. My father standing lonely in the porch. Usually he would greet me with happiness and laughter but this time it was different as the rest of our lives would be different. I ran to the porch only to witness something I had never seen before. My father was crying, he looked as though he had lost everything. I walked into the house in a daze looking for my mother. Everyone staring at me and Big Jim Evans was uncomfortably trying to console me. My baby sister was too young to understand, she seemed confused and bewildered but still laughed and giggled in her pram. ...read more.


I realized now that at the time I was in denial not wanting to believe that this dead body could be my kid brother. That night I didn't sleep. I stayed awake thinking, crying over the happy memories we had shared. The next thing I knew it was morning I plucked up courage to climb the stairs to the room where he lay. My hand trembled as it touched the doorknob. I turned it nervously and crept in. Someone, probably mother, had placed flowers and candles around the cot-sized coffin, softening the starkness. We had been apart six weeks and he looked paler but only ill not dead. There were no horrible, gruesome scars, just the signs of a fresh bruise on his temple where the car bumper had struck him. I expected him to wake up and laugh as though it was a joke, but he didn't. He just lay there still, silent, alone and too young to die. As tears fell from my eyes I walked slowly out of the room. ...read more.

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