Writers'+Corner

=Here's where you can read some of the students' (literary) creations=


 * //A Lullaby//**

As soon as he got out of the car, Blake felt uneasy. From the moment he saw her shiny face staring at him from the 3rd floor window, he knew it was going to be a long night. Everything was simply ‘okay’ and that made him feel a little bit frustrated. Because everything had to be perfect. For her. The flowers looked okay. ‘No time to rush to the flower shop, now, man’. With a long sigh, he gathered all the courage he could and paid up the old, frowning driver waiting anxiously in the taxi. Pressing slightly on the golden door handle, he sneaked in, as if she hadn’t already seen him from the window, and he could still surprise her. Blake had a strange dream once, in which he got stuck in an elevator. From that moment on, he never took an elevator ever again. This time was no exception. As much as he wanted to be next to her, he kind of wanted to extend his uneasiness, hopefully to a stop. When he finally arrived at her door, he started hesitating. But little did he know then what he would miss if he didn’t enter... ‘There you are, stranger! It feels like ages since you entered the building! Come in, sweetheart’. What could he possibly say to this? Nothing! She was there. And that was all that mattered. Even if the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t let him think properly, he followed her, watching her cattish moves as she headed gently for the kitchen. Kristen was a beautiful young woman. Her long and wavy hair, always reminded him of the ocean, even more when some of her locks shone bluely in the moon light. Her hands were silky smooth and her perfect nails had almost all the time tiny stars or hearts on, which reminded him of how childlike she was. But it didn’t bother him at all. That just made him care more for her. Even though she had a rather low height, her figure was simply superb. All in all, she was a sweet woman, who seemed to be begging for hugs and kisses. For a moment there he felt dizzy. ‘What is wrong with me? I’ve dated other girls before’... But he had never had those strange, annoying feelings before, that was sure. He grabbed her hand quickly anyway and pulled her so near to him that she couldn’t run away. The sounds in his head formed a lullaby. Or was it just the radio? Now the butterflies wouldn’t let him breathe normally anymore...but he seemed not to feel all these. All he could think about was that she was there in his arms and he knew for sure that her lips tasted like cherries... Cristina Bălău, XII B

You promised you wouldn’t make it hard But in the end you punched my heart. Now I’m sitting on our bench all alone I still can’t realize you’re actually gone, so I keep waiting for my phone to ring … Why did you break our treaty? I wouldn’t leave, you wouldn’t punch my heart Wouldn’t it be just lovely? Well…I guess you didn’t see it as a pact…
 * //Letting go of the hurt//**

Cristina Bălău, XII B

= A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS = = “Where am I? What are all these lights?”… and then he sees a giant “Merry Christmas 2200!” sign. He was sent so far away from us! But, as it was already Christmas for him, he thought he could take advantage of the situation and so he went on to discover a Christmas fair from an unknown place. It was all different. No more candy, no more hot wine, no more Santa Claus dolls, no more carols – these have all been replaced. The man was shocked to see that all these things that used to symbolize Christmas had been replaced with much more expensive things. Expensive perfumes substituted for Christmas figurines such as angels or Christmas trees; instead of the ordinary mulled wine served in big mugs, people now served expensive champagne in crystal glasses. The old home-made sweet pies were not to the children’s interest anymore- they now served only sea food- shrimps and octopus. “I wonder if Santa Claus is still here…” he thinks. Soon, he sadly discovers that Santa is now paid by every parent in order to listen to their child’s poetry or song and their wishes. Children’s wishes were a big surprise for the man, too. They now asked for I-phones, laptops and even personal cars and to have their own apartment. Fastidious children! The man is sad to discover that the world is going down from when he really lives and that it became so materialistic. He now wishes to go back in 2010 and teach his own children to cherish real values, and not some objects… =

Teodora Dobre, XII B
**How to give up things**

Take me for example. I am the leader at giving up things. ‘Oh, how about starting taking ballet lessons?’ ‘Yes! That’s exactly what I’ll do’. And I do that - for a week or two. Then something else comes to my mind. And I give up ballet and do that other thing for another couple of weeks. And then, of course, I give it up. And do another thing. And another one, and another one, until I simply get bored of all of them. Now the question would be ‘Why on Earth don’t you just do them all at the same time and don’t give up on any of them?’ I don’t because I want everything to be perfect and I want to be the best at what I do. Isn’t it just hilarious? Cristina Bălău (XII B)

**Practice makes perfect**

I am the best at saying that I will never be late for an appointment again. I don’t know what I do, but I always get to a specific place minutes after I was supposed to be there and I see all those angry faces staring at me. As I always do, I apologise and promise the next time I will be there in time. My friends believe me and hope to see a change and even I promise myself not to be late again. So, the next time I have an appointment, I start dressing up and preparing hours before and I am absolutely convinced that I will get there in time. However, I don’t know how I manage to waste time again and again and be late for the appointment. “This is the last time, I swear.” Andreea Serghievici (XIIB)

**Questions** When people start saying that you ask too many questions, somehow, you start feeling embarrassed. And then, you do what? You try and try to reduce the number of questions you ask…but then…you start a hard, difficult fight with your curiosity and with the fact that you can’t live without the answers to those problems. When I start asking questions, I don’t limit myself to just one, my questions come in the form of an avalanche, and suddenly my conversation is extremely similar to an interrogatory. I can’t understand why people feel so assaulted when your sentences end with a question mark. I tried not to, I really did. But then, I began another fight with the strange situation when you don’t know something, and in order not to worry too much, or not to go crazy, you really need to know it. I tried to paraphrase, to turn a question into a statement, even though my sentences were as weird they could get. I should give it another try and start killing my curiosity step by step, and in time, my conversations will not sound like an interrogatory anymore. Raluca Novăcean (XII B)