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Post by Sophie on Oct 15, 2007 20:30:56 GMT
I assume this is the right board, considering content. If not, feel free to move it.
“Nobody knew what had happened at first. There was simply a mass panic: children screaming, parents trying to drag their little ones to safety. The shopping mall had been crowded with people doing their last minute Christmas shopping, but now something had exploded, creating a wave of terror through the hearts of citizens.”
“That it, Lucy?” Mr Cromwell asked, clearly disappointed in his pupil’s effort. Lucy Baxter nodded silently, her cheeks reddening with every second that passed. “Sir,” Marcia Wade called out, “I’m sure you said 500 words, and Lucy’s story is much shorter.” “I know, Marcia,” Mr Cromwell sighed. “I don’t need you pointing out every fault in this classroom. I’m the teacher here, not you.” The class snickered. “There’s a crack in the ceiling, that’s a classroom fault I bet you didn’t notice!” Brendan Murray called out. “Brendan, what have I said about putting your hand up?” Mr Cromwell folded his arms and sat on the desk in front of the still standing Lucy.
The bell to signal the end of the lesson could not have come sooner for James Cromwell. He had been told the class would be difficult, but they were far worse than he had anticipated. He had students who put no effort in at all, others who thought they were God’s gift to English, and a select few who had potential that they would not unlock. Lucy was one of the latter, and it was those students James wanted to help most. It was students like Lucy, he said, that were the reason he had become a teacher.
“So what happened?” James asked Lucy after school. They were sat in his classroom, she at the desk, he perched on it in front of her. “I didn’t have time to do it,” Lucy admitted, twiddling her hair nervously. “Anyway, Brendan didn’t do his, and you’re not keeping him behind.” “Brendan Murray hasn’t got a chance at passing GCSE English,” James told her. “You, Luce, you’ve got a chance at getting a decent grade. C, maybe even B. Not many kids get that sort of marks here, and if you keep it up, you’ll maybe make it into college.” “Really?” Lucy was surprised at the faith her teacher had in her. “I’ll help you get that B,” James smiled, “if you do something for me.” Sliding off the table, he walked across the room and closed the door.
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Luke
Newbie
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Post by Luke on Oct 16, 2007 16:01:04 GMT
That's really good. I've read the rest you've written so far on CF and it was excellant.
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Post by Sophie on Oct 16, 2007 16:24:41 GMT
Thanks And sorry to sound rude, but you are (on CF) ?
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Luke
Newbie
Posts: 8
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Post by Luke on Oct 16, 2007 16:35:10 GMT
Yesh I am. And I didn't take it as rude. You know me by MotU2510.
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Post by Sophie on Oct 16, 2007 16:56:40 GMT
Ah, so I do And the second part of the story: “You seem tense,” James told Lucy as he sat down beside her. He was on a chair this time, not the desk. “I’m fine,” Lucy stammered. Then, in one breath, said, “Why did you shut the door?” “We don’t want any kids in the corridor disturbing us, do we?” James took his tie off and undid his top button. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Lucy didn’t think it was, but nodded dumbly. “Why don’t you take your tie off too?” James asked. “You don’t have to wear it; it’s no longer school time.” “Alright,” Lucy replied uncomfortably, pulling the red and silver striped garment off and stuffing it into her blazer pocket. She was so desperate to gain the B grade that she would do whatever it took, including obeying James’ every request. Not many students in Lucy’s school passed enough GCSEs to go to college, so the slight possibility that she would be one of a special bunch excited her. James smiled, stretching out as he stood up. “Let me show you something that’s gonna help you improve.” “Improve what?” Lucy echoed as she watched James pull a key from his trouser pocket and unlock the store cupboard on the right of the classroom. “What do you think?” James laughed, now out of Lucy’s sight. “Do you like to work with music, or without?” “Well, I sometimes listen to the radio while I work,” Lucy replied slowly, trying to suss what answer James wanted. “Well, I’ve got a load of music on my laptop, have a browse through and find something you like. I’ll be out in a minute; I can’t seem to find what I’m looking for in here.” Lucy’s hand shook as she opened up James’ media player. She felt as though looking through his desktop area was an invasion of his privacy, but at the same time she wanted to please him. Scanning the band names, Lucy struggled to find one she recognised. Eventually she clicked on a Bryan Adams track. She preferred dance music to rock, but there didn’t seem to be any of her favourite bands on the laptop. “Summer of 69, eh?” James laughed when the song began. “Good choice, Luce.” He emerged from the store cupboard, bare footed and bare chested. “I usually strip off after school,” he explained upon noticing Lucy’s open mouthed expression. “It gets really sweaty sitting in a classroom all day.” Lucy was about to say that she sat in a classroom all day and didn’t get very sweaty, but decided not to upset her teacher. She couldn’t take her eyes off his body, though. James’ tanned six-pack had her transfixed, and although she had no idea how old he was, he had a better physique than many of the boys her age. “You know, when this song came out, my dad used to say it was my song. He played it all the time.” James leant casually against the whiteboard, slowly writing words onto it. “Why’s that?” Lucy asked, adjusting her shirt collar. “It was when I was born,” James told her, laying the pen down and walking over. He sat down on the desk behind her and began to run his fingers through her flowing brown hair. “July 17th 1969. Summer of 69.” He began to sing along, out of key and out of tune. “Ah, good times, me and my dad. I loved those father – son moments.” “My dad’s dead,” Lucy whispered, feeling the need to speak. “Died 4 months after my big brother was killed.” “I’m sorry,” James said, his voice changing. “What happened?” “Jake was knifed to death,” Lucy stuttered. “Stabbed 3 times in the chest and slashed in the neck.” “I am so sorry!” James gasped. “How old was he?” “15, same as I am now. Mum hit the booze, Dad topped himself and my older sister Charlotte moved to Newcastle with her boyfriend and their baby. I wanted to go with them but I was taken into care.” Tears rolled down Lucy’s cheeks as she stood up. “I should go,” she muttered, picking up her schoolbag. “Wait,” James told her, as he pulled her into a tight hug. “I know a way to cheer you up.”
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Post by latfa on Oct 16, 2007 17:26:00 GMT
That is so good! I was so intrested I went onto CF and looked up the story.
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Post by Kaila on Oct 16, 2007 21:53:45 GMT
Ah yes, its going to be much easier to read, comment and criticise on here. xD. I'll have a real look tomorrow. I'mmm off to bed now ;D.
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Post by Sophie on Oct 18, 2007 18:49:25 GMT
Rather graphic, this bit.
Numb with shock, Lucy simply stood as James pressed his lips onto hers and began to move with her towards the classroom wall. If anyone else had forced himself onto her, Lucy would have broken away and screamed for help. But she knew that nobody would be on the top floor corridor at this time, so she remained paralysed with fear and tried to block out what was happening.
Subtlety wasn’t James’ way. He undid Lucy’s shirt button by button, running his lips down her pale body until he reached her breasts. Then, in one swift movement, he took both her shirt and bra off, kissing her breasts repeatedly as he did so. Lucy trembled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please stop it!” she begged. “This isn’t right, it’s...” “Sir,” James interrupted, staring up at her. The tone in his voice had changed, from the gentle, caring one Lucy had always known to that of an obsessed paedophile. “Please stop it, sir.” “Please stop it, sir,” Lucy sobbed. James simply laughed in her face. “I’ll leave your breasts alone,” he smirked, “but your body is mine.” Sliding his hands down her body, he slipped them under her skirt.
_ _ _
Snatching up her shirt and bra from floor, Lucy rapidly pulled them on, not caring that her shirt buttons were in the wrong holes. All she wanted was to get out of the classroom, out of the school. She couldn’t believe what she’d just allowed James to do to her. If only she’d noticed the warning signs: the overly friendly conversations, the pathetic excuses to remove clothes, the blatant flirting she’d been oblivious to. Had she not been so preoccupied with wanting to get the longed for B grade, Lucy would never have got herself into the situation with James. But the truth was her English teacher had just raped her, and now she was going to have to deal with the consequences.
“Luce!” Lucy jolted as she heard her name being called from the other end of the corridor. “You left something behind!” She knew it was James calling her back to retrieve her school bag, but she didn’t know whether or not she should approach him. It would be harder, however, to make up an excuse for not having her books and equipment, as Lucy had no idea whether James would keep hold of the bag or throw it. Turning carefully, Lucy walked towards James.
“Missing something?” James asked mockingly as he held the backpack above his head, out of Lucy’s reach. “Give it back!” Lucy stammered, reaching up for it. “Give it back!” James repeated, mimicking Lucy’s terrified voice. “Well, it’ll cost you, Lucy. Think about it. You didn’t seem to enjoy earlier, did you? We can try it again, your way, if you like. Any place, any position, I’m open.” All Lucy could do was scream.
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Post by Sophie on Oct 20, 2007 19:18:16 GMT
“What’s going on?” Headmaster Rory Jarrett called out, running up the staircase towards the scream. Stumbling up the last few steps, he saw James holding a girl’s bag high in the air. “James Cromwell, what the hell are you doing with a student’s personal property?” “I, she, we were just messing about, weren’t we, Lucy?” James replied, a piercing glare shooting out of his bright blue eyes. Lucy nodded dumbly. “Why are you still in school, Lucy?” Rory asked. “Hometime was over an hour and a half ago.” “Ja – Mr Cromwell was giving me extra help in English, Sir,” Lucy responded almost monotonously. She was too scared to blurt her secret out, especially with James standing just a metre away. “Well, give her the bag back, Mr Cromwell, and you head off home, Lucy. Do your parents know you were staying late?” “My foster carer doesn’t care,” Lucy replied with a shrug. “Just so long as we’re in by midnight.”
Lucy jogged back to her foster home. She was unfit, and had to stop every few minutes along the route to regain her breath. She was desperate for a shower, and as she unlocked the door to the foster home, she prayed the bathroom was empty. She was out of luck as she heard the water running. Cursing, Lucy locked herself in her bedroom and burst into tears.
“Lucy?” Social worker Emma Gordon rapped on the bedroom door. “Lucy, it’s dinner time. You coming down?” Lucy simply sat on her bed in silence, praying Emma would give up and leave her alone. “Lucy, I’m not going downstairs until you open this door.” “Fine.” Lucy stood up and opened the door reluctantly, wiping her blue eyes with her blazer cuff. “I’m not hungry, OK?” Slamming the door in Emma’s face, Lucy began to cry again. “Is everything alright, Lucy?” Emma had stopped the door with her foot and was now standing in Lucy’s room, searching for any signs of problems. “You can talk to me, you know that.” “I can’t,” Lucy sobbed. “He made me pro-look, forget I said anything, OK?” Running out of the room, Lucy was desperate to be left alone. James had shattered what little faith she had in human kind, and she was scared what else he’d do to her. James had made her promise not to tell anyone, and had threatened to kill her if she did. Lucy wasn’t sure what the best option was: living with her fear and shame for the rest of her life, or getting it all out of the way and going to be with her father and brother.
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Bryce
Pet
Lost In Translation
Posts: 31
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Post by Bryce on Nov 1, 2007 10:57:15 GMT
This is well written. You've made it interesting and entertaining (No not in that way) for the reader. I look forward to reading more
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Post by Sophie on Nov 1, 2007 18:42:03 GMT
Lucy turned on the tap in the bathroom and let the water run. She was sitting on the toilet seat lid, drinking a bottle of vodka she had stolen from one of the other children’s rooms. Everyone stole alcohol and cigarettes, but most of the social workers turned a blind eye to the older children. “It’s not fair,” she sobbed, swigging the vodka between syllables. “After all I’ve been through, he, he…he raped me.” Lucy had managed to say it, but it was still struggling to sink in.
Leaning against the other side of the door, Emma strained to hear what Lucy was saying. Her jaw dropped when she heard it. She had been expecting the issue to be bullying or boyfriend trouble, not a serious assault like what had actually happened. Despite being a care worker for 4 years, Emma had never encountered a rape among any of the young people staying there. In fact, she doubted there had ever been one in all the Home’s 27-year history. Not knowing what to do left Emma unusually scared. A smash from inside the bathroom startled Emma. Resisting the urge to stay and listen for more tell-tale words, or the name of Lucy’s attacker, Emma began to force the door down. It took a few battering, but eventually the barrier was down, and Emma was face to face with the true extent of the damage.
“Gerrout,” Lucy slurred, waving Emma away with her hand. She was blatantly drunk, and a broken glass bottle was shattered on the floor, with drops of alcohol marking the white tiles on the floor. “You need help,” Emma soothed, trying to pick Lucy up. The troubled teen was slouched over the sink, with water overflowing. It would have been so easy for Lucy to drown herself in it, Emma realised as she turned the tap off with her left hand. Attempting to drag Lucy into her room, the social worker was stunned at the amount of blood pouring out of the girl’s slit wrists. “You’re coming with me, Luce,” Emma replied as Lucy spluttered something indecipherable. But the force Lucy put into her next move was enough to halt any more of Emma’s plans.
Having been thrown across the bathroom, Emma lay slumped against the metal cabinet under the sink. Fragments of glass dug into her back and legs, but Lucy’s reaction had left the young woman unconscious after banging her head on the corner of the cabinet. Looking down at what she had done, Lucy stumbled out of the bathroom in panic, shutting what was left of the bathroom door behind her.
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Bryce
Pet
Lost In Translation
Posts: 31
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Post by Bryce on Nov 2, 2007 6:52:16 GMT
You just keep on getting better
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Post by Sophie on Nov 2, 2007 20:48:34 GMT
"What on earth did you think you were doing, Lucy?" Head care worker Jasmine Arieshi raged. "You steal alcohol off other residents, get drunk and seriously assault a member of staff. It's unlike you, Lucy. What have you got to say for yourself?" "I didn't want it to happen," Lucy slurred. "He-" "Well nobody else made it happen, Lucy," Jasmine frowned. "You need to take responsibility for your actions." "But he..."Lucy stammered, before bursting into tears. "He raped me!" "Who did?" Jasmine asked, a newly-found sympathetic tone entering her voice. But the tearful girl was unable to speak.
Lucy sat in silence in Jasmine's office. The middle aged Irish woman was on the phone to the police, despite Lucy's inability to name her attacker. She was scared of James' reaction if he found out, and even more scared if she had to face him in court. Lucy's initial thoughts were not to tell anybody, and to carry on as if nothing had happened. She hadn't managed to last like that a day. Lucy's second thought was to kill herself, an idea that was seeming more favourable by the minute.
"Lucy?" Jasmine repeated the teenager's name, tapping her on the shoulder. "The police are here." "It was an accident!" Lucy jumped up from the chair, almost crashing into the uniformed policewoman standing in front of her. "Calm down," Jasmine smiled. "Look, DC..." "Callie Irvine," the woman supplied. "And Liaison Officer Kate Bentham. We're here to help you, Lucy, whatever you may believe. You are not the one in the wrong." "But I hurt her." Lucy was determined to change the topic, for fear of reliving her ordeal. "I injured Emma."
"Emma isn't why they're here, Lucy," Jasmine explained, sitting the youngster down. "They want to talk to you about what happened at school." "Can you give us a name, Lucy?" Kate asked, her gentle voice seeming to relax Lucy. "James....Mr Cromwell," came the tearful answer. "Mr Cromwell raped me." "That son of a..." Jasmine raged, before taking a deep breath. "I didn't realise it was a teacher. I am not sending any more of the children there until he's out." "Now calm down," Callie soothed, trying to prevent an eruption of anger and violence which could jeopardise the possibility of getting a suitable testimony from Lucy. "We don't know that any of the other children have contact with him, or even if they do, whether he's attacked them too." "We don't know he has attacked them, but we don't know he hasn't." "Lucy, have you heard anything about Mr Cromwell assaulting any other girls?" Kate asked, turning to the chair Lucy had been sitting in. But the leather swivelling seat was empty.
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Bryce
Pet
Lost In Translation
Posts: 31
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Post by Bryce on Nov 2, 2007 22:54:22 GMT
Its mainly good but I was expecting there to be more resistence by Lucy when she was asked who raped her. Other than that it's good
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Post by Sophie on Nov 11, 2007 15:09:47 GMT
“Lucy!” Jasmine called, opening the office door. She swung out into the corridor, almost getting knocked over by a couple of the younger children who were racing the length of the building. “Watch it, you two,” she scowled. Then, after a flash of inspiration, turned to them again. “Have either of you two seen Lucy Baxter?” “Not since this morning,” the youngest, six-year-old Rebecca Murton, replied. But her friend, seven-year-old Georgie Jacinta, had a different story. “I saw her go out the back door. Greg Phillips asked where she was going, and she gave him the finger.” “Did she say anything to Greg?” Jasmine asked, crouching down to the little girl’s level. Georgie shrugged. “I didn’t hear anything. She only gave him the finger.” “Is Lucy in trouble for swearing?” Rebecca asked. Jasmine sighed, and tried to work out what answer to give her. “Swearing’s bad, Becky. I don’t want you copying Lucy, ok?” “Ok,” Rebecca smiled. “Can me and Georgie finish our race now?” “Go on then,” Jasmine stood up and ran her fingers through her shoulder length curly hair. “Just don’t knock anyone over, alright?”
“Gregory!” Jasmine shouted at the hooded teenager, leaning against the wall with a marker pen in his hand. “Art should be on paper, not walls!” “Yes, Jas,” Greg sighed, obediently shoving the black pen into the pocket of his tracksuit trousers. Jasmine held authority over even the toughest of the children at the Home. “When you last saw Lucy Baxter, did she say where she was going?” “No, Jas,” Greg responded, slightly annoyed at being interrogated despite having done nothing wrong. “She just went out. I asked where she was going, ‘cause she used the back door ‘stead of the front, and she just swore at me.” He showed her the middle finger. “Like that. No words whatsoever.” “She was carrying something,” one of Greg’s friends, Adam Carnegie, added. “I think it was a knife.”
Lucy’s footsteps echoed as she ran along the alleyway. The knife she has so easily swiped from the kitchen was hidden under her black jacket, and she felt the cold metal blade against her skin as she moved. She knew exactly what she was going to do, and where she was heading. Slowing down to cross the road, Lucy saw the familiar four-storey building ahead of her. Her school was only a few minutes away, and she hoped she would be able to accomplish her mission with ease.
Lucy walked straight through the main gate and into the building. She had an excuse: she’d left a book in her locker that she needed for homework. Pushing the door open with her left hand, Lucy gripped the knife tightly with her right. She was surprised at how open the school was, several hours after it should have finished. Sneaking past the cleaner without a word, she headed straight up to James’ room. Her pulse raced as she looked through the glass pane in the door. Memories of her ordeal flooded back, but Lucy tried to keep cool. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and produced the knife. “Hello, James,” she smiled.
“Come back for more?” James mocked; abandoning the books he was carrying and walking closer to Lucy. He puckered his lips and made kissing noises. “Back away,” Lucy stammered, raising the knife. “I’ll use it, I promise you.” “Promises, promises,” James laughed, inching closer. “Talking of, I’ve got a feeling you promised me more, am I right?” “Leave me alone!” Lucy screamed. Her mind wanted to flee, but her body wouldn’t let her. Flashbacks raced through her head. Her body clammed up, tears began to pour from her face, and her voice became unstable. “Why me?” she asked eventually. “You were easy,” James said after a pause. He picked nervously at a scab on his elbow. “You had no home to go to; nobody who’d miss you or notice you’d changed. You weren’t the brightest, so I had an excuse to keep you behind. Oh, and you’re good looking, too. An easy target, really. You had it coming.” “Had what coming?” Rory stood in the doorway, blocking any chance of escape Lucy had. “The bad grade Lucy’s unhappy with,” James lied. “I told her, she produced bad work, absolutely no effort. But she didn’t listen, and now she came seeking revenge.” “I thought I told you to go home a couple of hours ago,” Rory frowned. “You did,” Lucy grimaced, turning round. “But I came back. I’m going now.” She made a beeline for the door. As Rory moved to stop her, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Clutching his bloody chest, and crumbling to the floor, he cried out. “Lucy!”
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