The Bully Got His Comeuppance

By Samantha (12 years old)

It was a glorious Sunday morning. A cool breeze was blowing and the birds were chirping. My friends and I were enjoying ourselves in the park, playing on the swings and slides.

I was playing with my best friend, Katie. We had known each other like forever and meeting at the playground was a daily event come rain or shine. Maybe not for our moms would never let us play in the rain. “You’ll get sick if you play in the rain!” both mothers would drill whenever we asked for permission. Even now, Katie and I could never understand how rainwater could cause us to become sick.

So there we were, shrieking with glee as we tried to outdo each other. Suddenly, a voice boomed, “Give me your pocket money!”

The voice startled me badly. The result was a very ungraceful landing on the ground, bruising my poor backside. I turned in the direction of the speaker. My eyes widened and my jaws dropped when I saw who it was.

It was Billy, the neighbourhood bully. He was notorious for extorting money from the smaller kids. Should we refuse, we would probably be looking at a few weeks of hospital stay.

Katie and I looked around wildly for our friends but they had vanished into thin air. It sometimes pained me to have such treacherous friends. This is one such occasion.

“Wimps, give me your money and don’t let me repeat myself!” Billy threatened, giving me his infamous death glare. I quickly dug into my pocket and produced a shiny chocolate coin.

“Chocolate coin?!” he bellowed. I nodded timidly.

“Ah well, I like chocolate,” he declared.

Without further ado, he peeled off the wrapping and popped the chocolate into his mouth.

I watched him crunch the chocolate and waited impatiently for the outcome. Catching Katie’s eye, I silently mouthed, “One, two, three!”

True enough, Billy clamped one hand over his mouth.  His other hand was waving wildly in the air and his tongue was hanging out like a dog’s. He was huffing and puffing as well.

“Water! Water! I need water!” he gasped in between his huffs and puffs.

Katie and I burst into fits of merry laughter. We had been itching to give Big Bad Billy his comeuppance. We plotted for an entire week to deliver this sweet revenge. This should certainly teach BBB to never ever call us wimps again.

Posted in Essays - All Categories | Leave a comment

A Stupid Burglar

By Kimberly C. (8 years old)

burglar

Image credit: automatedhomeandsecurity.com

There was a burglar who loved to steal other people’s things.  He wore a black mask when he was on the prowl.

Once, he sneaked into a house.  The owner was very wealthy and he was not at home.  The burglar opened a drawer and saw a lot of jewellery.  His eyes bulged at the sight of the glittering treasure.  He quickly gathered all the valuables and put them in his sack.

On his way out, he walked past the kitchen.  He smelt a wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen.  He walked into the kitchen and saw some delicious food on the dining table.  He gobbled up everything.  After eating, he fell fast asleep on the chair.

The master of the house came home and saw the snoring thief.  He quietly called the police.  The police came and handcuffed the burglar and brought him to the police station.  The owner of the house thought to himself, “What a stupid burglar!”

Posted in Essays - All Categories | Leave a comment

How do you spell …?

Image credit: freemake.com

 

Teacher:  How do you spell apple?

Miss 4:  A-p-p-l-e!

Teacher:  Very good!  How do you spell baby?

Mr 5:  B-a-b-y!

Teacher:  How do you spell doctor?

Mr 6:  D-o-t-o-r!

Teacher:  I’m afraid that’s not correct.

Mr 6:  I know but you ask me how do I spell it!

Posted in Finding Humour in Teaching, Working with Kindergarteners | Leave a comment

Two Rowdy Boys

By Danielle W. (8 years old)

http://newsmomsneed.marchofdimes.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/fighting-kids.jpg

Image credit: newsmomsneed.marchofdimes.org

 

Jack and Ethan like fighting over small matters.  They are two very rowdy boys in my class.  These two boys come to school with grumpy faces unlike the other children who are always cheerful.  Sometimes I wonder if they are having indigestion.

One day, they tore each other’s books because they were fighting over a storybook.  The girls in class were scared of their violence but the boys cheered them on.  Elijah, our monitor tried to stop them but was punched in the face instead.  Angered, he ran to tell the class teacher about the fistfight.

Miss Gan came and scolded the boys.  She made them apologise to each other.  They promised her that they would not fight in class again but would they be able to keep their promise?

 

Posted in Essays - All Categories, Essays - Primary School, Lower | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

My Greatest Fear

By SY (12 years old)

image credit: speakupforsuccess.com

 

I am one of the shyest kids at school.  I seldom talk in class but when Ms Olivia, my favourite teacher asked me to give a speech during the school assembly, I could hardly let her down.  I did not want to disappoint her so I agreed, very reluctantly.

My parents were astonished once they knew.  They were aware I was a timid girl but they were hopeful I would outgrow my diffidence gradually.

I had to rewrite my speech a dozen times before deeming it perfect.  The next stage was speech practice.  I practised every night before I slept.  I also spent hours in front of the mirror inside the bathroom.  My elder sister thought I was going insane.

On the day of my speech presentation, my family came to school to give me moral support.  When the emcee called my name, I strode to the stage, full of confidence.  I was positive I could do it but when I saw the large audience, I immediately froze.  Hundreds of butterflies were fighting to escape from my stomach.  My palms became clammy and my hands shook very badly while my heart was pounding away against my chest like it was asking to be let out.

The audience looked at me as if I had grown another head.  Someone started to murmur and others soon joined in.  Without thinking, I ran off the stage and out of the hall.  It was the most humiliating day of my entire life.  I was sure that I would be teased by my friends the next day but I simply didn’t care at that moment.  I was a glossophobic and life had become a nightmare!  Glossophobia, I hate you!

 

Posted in Essays - All Categories, Essays - Primary School, Upper | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lily’s New Spectacles

By Anderson C. (11 years old)

Image credit: aliexpress.com

 

Lily could not see the words clearly on the whiteboard in class.  When she reached home in the afternoon, she immediately told her mother that she had difficulty in seeing the teacher’s writing on the whiteboard.

So, her mother brought her to the optical shop to have her eyesight tested.  After the test, the optician asked her to choose a spectacle frame.  Lily looked at many frames before she finally picked a pink frame with flowers.  She put it on and loved how she looked.

She now wears her new spectacles all the time.  She loves having a clear vision very much.

 

Posted in Essays - All Categories, Essays - Primary School, Upper | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My Greatest Fear

TC (12 years old)

Image credit: beforeitsnews.com

 

“What is your greatest fear?” the teacher asked in class.  “Clowns!”  I replied.  I have been afraid of clowns since I was a young child.  The loathing and fear has grown more intense over the years.

According to the dictionary, a clown is a comic performer who wears an outlandish costume and makeup.  He is good at making his audience laugh at his antics.  However, I beg to differ.  To me, they are buffoons who wear too much paint in order to scare me out of my wits.

Each time I saw a clown coming, I headed in another direction as fast as my legs could carry me.  To be honest, I have no idea why I hate clowns so much.  I think it could be due to the fact that I watched a murderous clown starring in a horror movie once.  Since then, I had often imagined myself tied to a chair with an evil clown pointing his dagger at me.

My family and friends do not agree with me and make light of my clown phobia.  They simply couldn’t figure out why I have coulrophobia.  Clowns are funny, they think but how could they be so sure that underneath all those thick layers of paint and disguise is not a hard-core convict?

 

Posted in Essays - All Categories, Essays - Primary School, Upper | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment