Contents: 2:Welcome 3-6:Hot Topic 7-16:Creative Writing Corner 17-18:Desert Island Discs 19: A Special Thankyou

It’s been a wild and wet start to the year!

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Welcome

Hello and welcome to the fantastic fourth edition. We have a wide variety of creative writing from poetry to personal writing. In addition, we have a selection of articles about Christmas. It may seem ages ago but read them through and make your own decision. Is Christmas overrated? As always, if you would like to contribute come and meet the team – now on a Tuesday in Room 36A. Enjoy!

The Test Valley Telegraph Team

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Is Christmas Overrated?

Ladies and gentlemen, I am here in front of you today to speak to you about the idea that Christmas is over-rated. Have you ever really thought about Christmas day itself? I bet that if you did all you would see is a stressful, crazy and manic time! I agree that Christmas is nice because some families are all together. There is the fact that some families are not all together, for a variety of different reasons, such as: some parents are in the military and are away over Christmas, some are without a family or have parents who have separated.

Christmas has been around for centuries. When it first came around it was an act of kindness. A man called Saint Nicholas would give money to poor families every year so they could buy or do things they needed, but over the time more and more traditions from different places have been added, making it over-rated.

Firstly, who agrees that Christmas starts way too early? Now, it starts between the middle and end of October which makes it collide with Halloween. This also makes people feel pressured into getting things ready for Christmas and start buying things that they do not necessarily need or have normally in their over-filled trolley! On the other hand, I can see that people may like this so they are organised and also so they have something bigger to look forward to.

Alongside it starting early there is the music:

Music is one of the other things that starts far too early. Every morning, on a weekday, I catch the school bus. Nearly every year we hear a Christmas song in October. As very few new songs are released at Christmas, the old ones are forced against their will to be played over and over again. Once you have heard the line, “snow is

3 falling” a hundred times you end up not being happy and jolly, but just wanting to get Christmas out the way and as far in the past as possible!

Finally, before I make you fall asleep, there are the lies, disappointment and ungratefulness. Parents teach their children not to lie but ironically lie to their offspring for years about Santa. I can see that it brings magic to this time of year, but it is not meant to be based around magic, but kindness.

Overall, the whole point of Christmas, as far as I can see it, is to over- pack you with turkey, gifts and pointless songs. If this has not opened your eyes and make you see that Christmas is over-rated then at least I got it all off my chest.

Thank you for listening.

By Shauna Hutchinson 11A

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Is Christmas overrated?

Ladies and Gentlemen. Christmas? The most wonderful time of the year? Dancing around a magical tree which bears all the toys and goodies you’ve ever wanted? However, have you looked deeper? Have you seen behind the mask of this “joyful” time? Firstly, the beginning of Christmas. It almost starts when it has just ended. Kids; thinking of what they want next year the second they get bored of the toys they opened 10 minutes before. Toy companies; thinking about new ways to sap money out of your banks with overpriced plastic models. But it really starts to get “festive” usually after Halloween. Personally, I think this is way too early and it should at least start 5-6 weeks before, but there is a positive side to this such as getting presents before they have all been sold out in the mad rush of these so called “Christmas Shops.” People panic and buy any old thing that may relate or interest the receiver! Secondly, on a more or less joyful note; preparation and activities... “Christmas Preparation” the most hated words of this most thrilling time. Endless hours of rummaging through all the junk you may have in your attic, searching for the old plastic tree you may or may not have, plus scouting the shops for cheap lights and decorations. In addition, you may need to prepare for visiting family. Ready the rooms, clean the house and provide enough food. Just a few things you need to cause stress and break downs. I can see why it must be fun to set up the tree with your family but does it seem worth it? All that effort for a tree. Next, the topic I will be talking about is a sensitive one... CHRISTMAS MUSIC! Where do I begin? This repetitive mass of unthought-of notes and words booming out of radios and shop PA Systems Really Terminates Christmas for me and many other people. These dull tones

5 of musical mush are more than likely going to drive you insane. Most Christmas music is made within a day to rocket the bands’ funds through the roof. Do you think you can endure months of annoyingly dull drones with basic rhythms? I can see the whole point of Christmas music (to get you in a “Joyful Christmas spirit”) but I still don’t get why it’s so repetitive. Another negative point about Christmas is the money. Money is the main reason that Christmas is a waste of time. Every year people spend all their money on gifts that people will only look at once. The joys and merry atmosphere suddenly dies when you take a first look at your bank account. So where does all this money go? Does it go to help the ones who need it? No. It goes towards companies making themselves richer, wider and stronger. Finally, I will be going onto food. Although the food may look and taste nice, don’t let its tasty demeanour fool you. Have you thought about what the poor animals on the farms go through each year? It must be some kind of turkey genocide. Moreover, have you been to one of those pick you own turkey farms, where you go and look through a number of live turkey and chose the biggest and fattest ones long before people have time to think about getting turkey at all? Sometimes I’ve seen people let their kids choose which turkey they want, but could you live with letting your own child condemn a poor innocent turkey to death?

Well that concludes my speech. All in all I think that Christmas is one big over rated waste of time, but not all of it’s bad. So what do you think? Is Christmas Overrated? Sam Lloyd

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In this edition we have a fantastic extract from Megan Brett’s latest work, ‘Ashes in the Ground’. Furthermore, we have an entry for the Rotary Club 500 word competition. We have even included a moving War poem! Finally, a super selection of poems from Year 7 inspired by William Blake poetry!

Ashes in the ground

Terror froze his limbs, and his mind reeled as Neave opened her mouth to say something, but only a horrific gargling, guttering sound escaped her lips as blood leaked from the corners of her mouth and seeped down her chin, dripping onto the collar of her school shirt and staining it from grey to red.

With that, her knees gave way beneath her, and with a gasp Ash reached out his arms and caught her, dropping to his knees and holding her against him as they both fell to the floor. She looked up at him with her terror filled eyes, and tears tumbled from his own ashen grey eyes as he looked back at her with hopelessness.

“Ash…” she spoke his name quietly and softly, sending protective urges and adrenaline souring through him. He shook away his tears, and covered her hands, which were still held over her wound, with his, and pressed down firmly.

She cried out in pain and writhed for a second in agony, but he leant down and pressed his lips against her temple, shushing her and keeping his hands pressed firmly against her bleeding side.

“Shh love.” He breathed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Keep the pressure on it, we need to stop the bleeding.”

She stopped writhing, and shuddered to a stop, her breaths coming in shallow, irregular waves. He shifted his arm slightly to try and cover more of the wound, but the second he did, he only exposed more of it, and a small fountain of blood squirted up and into his sandy blond and gelled hair from the edge of Neave’s knife wound. He gagged and looked away,

“George!”

He turned to look at George, who looked like he was about to collapse himself. “GEORGE!” He bellowed again when he didn’t reply. George shook his head and swallowed nervously.

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“Go and get help!” He ordered, feeling relieved when George shook himself and nodded, before turning and running as fast as he could back towards the school.

George burst in through the double doors of the building, his mind reeling and nausea squirming in his stomach. He felt like he was about to faint any moment, but that was his best friend out there, and although it felt like some freakish nightmare, he knew that it was in fact very real.

“This is actually happening.” He told himself, realisation swamping him as he sprinted along the corridor. “Oh God, this is really happening.”

He burst into the nearest classroom, where Miss. Harrows was teaching a revision class. She turned to him with a frown, which soon changed to a look of pure concern when she saw the state he was in, and the look of gut-wrenching fear on his face.

“Neave Adderson’s just been stabbed.” He managed to blurt out, “Oh God, please she’s been… just help!” He cried when Miss’s frown deepened. Whether it was the undoubtedly terrified look that was etched upon his face, or the permanent urgency to his voice that let the truth speak for itself he didn’t know, but the important thing was that Miss believed him, and had shouldered her way out of the classroom before George could even move. The revision class had all heard of course, and were on their feet in seconds, excited by the sudden commotion.

George followed Miss, who poked her head and shouted into the science office, and then at every teacher she passed along the corridor.

They sprinted at full speed past the seating area, picking up more students as they went who were intrigued by the mass of people running urgently towards the school field. By the time they got there, there was already a small cluster of people standing along the bank looking down on the field. The windows of the classroom behind them filled with the faces of students looking out.

The teachers formed themselves into a line along the bank, stopping any students from getting onto the field. They moved so quickly and orderly, it was like they had rehearsed for this sort of thing.

Adrenaline coursing through him, George shouldered his way past Mr Davidson (who was now very much awake) and followed Miss. Harrows over to the far side of the field, to where Ash was still crouched in the mud, with Neave’s frail and bleeding body clutched tightly against him, her blood seeping out onto his expensive jacket and sleek leather shoes.

Mr Andrews, the head PE teacher and possibly the strictest and loudest teacher in the whole school was already there, and had thrown his jacket over Neave’s shaking body. His bald head glistened with rain drops, and his bare legs were covered with a thick layer of mud and blood. The moment George saw the blood, and Neave’s face, which had gone whiter than a sheet, his mind reeled again and he felt sick.

Mr Andrews filled Miss. Harrows in, and she knelt down beside Ash, placing a hand comfortingly on his shoulder and asking him if he was alright, to which he nodded, although he looked pretty sheepish.

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“Have you called an ambulance?” George croaked, and Mr Andrews nodded, getting to his feet and coming over to stand beside him. He’d only ever seen Mr Andrews walking around like he owned the place, and the only way he seemed to talk was through shouting, like most PE teachers really.

But now he looked scared, and almost out of his depth. George had never seen him look like that before, ever. That scared him.

Mr Andrews turned to face George, and placed two hands on his shoulders.

“Do you know what happened here?” He asked simply and bluntly. George shuddered, he didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want any of this to be real. But it was, and he couldn’t change that. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden sensation washed over him, and it literally felt like something had reached inside his mouth and grabbed hold of his tongue, so that he couldn’t utter a word. Whatever it was pulled on his tongue, and he was yanked forwards, almost colliding with Mr Andrews, who was frowning at him with a concerned expression on his face.

For some reason then, he turned to look up at the growing crowd forming on the top of the bank. A lot of them were people he knew in his year, and people had come from all over the school to come and witness the event.

But there was one face in the crowd that stuck out like a bull in a china shop. One face that made his blood boil with anger, and his mind cloud with sadness.

It was Liam, the boy who Neave had fallen in love with, and the boy whose girlfriend had just done this.

I bet he doesn’t even know.

George thought to himself, glaring at the puzzled expression on Liam’s face, who was straining his neck to see what was going on.

He doesn’t have the faintest idea what he’s done.

George frowned and whipped his head around, he hadn’t thought that. He hadn’t even said that. Someone else had said that, but it was clearly no one here. No one was paying any attention to him now; they were all crouched around Neave, chattering frantically amongst themselves. He listened again, but heard nothing.

Unless he was going mad, that voice had been right in his ear.

But there was no one standing next to him.

Megan Brett Year 10

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And Then They Marched

And then they marched across seas of mud and barbed wire, Hungry and parched and they freely perspired.

Picked up their weapons and marched off to the front line, Bang! That’s one gone, along with the others all in the same line.

And there, death fired out of the guns, But he couldn’t see from where, he could only run.

Then he just dropped, helpless and choking, As green clouds of poisonous gas began enveloping.

It was all over, Armistice Day, The British just shouted hooray, hooray.

But there were the troops all limping, blind and mad, All covered in sores not that the government really cared.

And then there was one that just fell, With shaking limbs like a tolling bell.

By Daniel Bavister

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The Desolation of Hope

O brother dost not cry

For the road is long and the night is nigh.

Mine brother makes a weeping sigh

“Dear brother I am going to die.

Hush now brother we have one last fight

Before thou seek thine holy light.

Tarry here at my side

The sounds of war are far behind

The rotten vapour of burning flesh

And the pungent smell of a soldier’s death.

I will take you home back to thy wife Beth

I shall tell her, you called her name with thou final breath

Goodbye my brother

By Tyler Coates Year 7

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Floods!

The rivers were fit to burst, Who will we help first? The cars were floating, People were soaking.

It was a devastating sight, All this nice weather, People were too shocked, It was a devastating sight, It gave people a fright, Who will go next? Jamie Evans YR 7

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As my brother cries

Father dies,

The blackbirds fly,

Like an angel going to heaven.

It reminds me of the amazing times we had in Devon,

The very next day

Well, what can I say?

Father went down,

Getting buried underground,

Then that night,

My mother lays in fright,

What will she do without him?

Her life will now be thrown in the bin!

JACK COOPER Year 7

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Betray

My heart beats like the wings of a bird,

On this the saddest of days,

I am born for joy and freedom,

Yet I sit in a cage of my own sorrow,

I know in my mind my heart is forever broken,

And no matter how hard they try it will never be forgiven.

All of the times that you were busy was all a big lie,

So you could go and live another life,

And even when you first started to lie,

You dazzled me with gifts only money can buy,

But when the time came to tell the truth,

You ran away and never came back,

But don’t worry because I have discovered one thing since you left...

...I don’t need you

Maddy Gillum-Webb Year 7

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5oo word competition entry. The Rotary Club of Andover will be judging the entries from a number of schools. Watch this space for news on the winners!

The day I got scouted

It was an ordinary Wednesday with after school football training. Then the head of PE unexpectedly called me over. I was feeling: nervous, worried and a bit embarrassed as the whole year was quiet and looking at me.

To my good fortune, it wasn’t bad news. It was the opposite. It was a chance to make me what I wanted to become. My Dad had always said that if I wanted to become a professional footballer, I would have to start young. My PE teacher had selected me and two others for District football trials as we had stood out during the year. At this moment in time, I was feeling proud, anxious, amazed and thankful.

A week had passed in a flash and the day of the trial finally came. I gazed around the magnificent buildings of the school where the trials were being held. I wasn’t used to that size of the school as our school is half that size. There was a chill in the air as we walked around the school until we found the pitch.

Unfortunately, the two other boys had to pull out because of injury. This made it even more intense. There were eighteen other boys and they were all strangers to me, although at the beginning one of the boys was friendly and invited me to play.

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We lined up for our first positions and I looked at the scouts. Then the whistle blew. The nerves came back as I tried to fight them and concentrate on the game. During the match, I knew the scouts would be looking at our every mistake so the pressure was on. That didn’t help as with my first touch I almost lost the ball. I knew they would note this down so I had to put in 110 per cent and improve quickly.

Eventually, I began to gain confidence, and became more involved in the game; I received a powerful ball hit at full blast into my groin. OUCH! I could barely walk but as the scouts saw I took the hit, I wanted to prove that I was not a weak player. With my eyes watering, I continued to play as well as I could. I had a chance to score a short while later. However, players were closing me down so I passed the ball to a team mate who failed to score. I didn’t know if this was my fault as I possibly could have scored.

As the rain began to fall, the surface was affected and became slippery and damp. The floodlights came on as darkness fell. This was a sign the trials were drawing to an end. I was feeling decent as I knew I had tried my hardest and tried to forget about my mistakes. When the final whistle blew, I was exhausted, in agony and partly relieved. I hobbled over towards the group and the scouts thanked us for coming. Then read the list….

Ben Findlay Year 8

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Name of Participant: Mr Murdoch - Smith

Role in school: Year 8 Coordinator and History Teacher

Song Choices Explanation

1. ‘Far Above the clouds’ by Mike Oldfield from This choice comes as my favourite Mike Tubular Bells III. Oldfield track and a memory of one of the first two records I ever bought. At the age of 13 I was just beginning to become interested in music and I heard two pieces played in school in my music lessons that I decided to go out and get straight away. The first was Tubular Bells the very first Mike Oldfield record and although this track was only released in 1998 on Tubular Bells III it still reminds me of my first encounter with this style of music. 2. First movement of Symphony No6 ‘Pastoral’ by This was the other record that I got on the Beethoven. same day as the one above. I love the way the music allows you to clearly imagine the walk in the countryside and the storm that follows. 3. ‘The Hustle’ by Van McCoy. This 1975 classic disco track brings back the now embarrassing memories of the late 70s disco craze and the strange dancing that accompanied it during my later teenage years. 4. Album – ‘The Myths and Legends of King Arthur’ This progressive rock album was a long- by Rick Wakeman. time favourite and I particularly associate it with memories of going with the future Mrs Murdoch-Smith to a Rick Wakeman gig at the Hammersmith Odeon in London in 1980. 5. The Prophet by Michael Card from the Album The Recapturing the Imagination. For all of the Word. 1980s 1990s and into the 2000s my life was focused on Christian ministry and this song sums up that period of my life as it is about the call of God on a person to communicate His word with others.

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6. ‘American Pie’ by Don McLean. This has to be included just as an all-time classic and for the fact that even at 8min 33 seconds long is one of the few songs I can sing word perfectly all the way through! 7. ‘Into the West’ by Annie Lennox. As a Sci-Fi and Fantasy geek I have to include a song from this genre and I thought of several pieces of music from Dr Who soundtracks, the Harry Potter film music or other similar items but in the end it has to be ‘Into the West’ by Annie Lennox from the soundtrack to Lord of the Rings The Return of the King. Not only is this a wonderful piece of music from the film of my favourite book it is also a beautiful evocation of hope for those who have lost a loved-one and I chose it to be played at the end of my Father’s funeral. 8. ‘Invincible’ from the eponymous album by Two For the final song I thought that it needed Steps From Hell. to be something reasonably contemporary and although I find it hard to like all new music there is a lot that I do like and so it is a difficult final choice. After 20 minutes playing various clips I have settled on ‘Invincible’ from the eponymous album by Two Steps From Hell. This stirring music one of many similar tracks on an excellent album, is ideal for inspiration and encouragement when you are sitting down to read, work – or dare I suggest revise! Luxury Item A solar powered iPad fully loaded with lots of Game Apps, and internet connection and a subscription to Sky Go so I could watch all the Liverpool matches. Book I wouldn’t need one as my iPad would have the Kindle app and be fully loaded with every book I could desire!

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Thank You

Firstly, thank you for reading the fourth edition of The Test Valley Telegraph. It has been a lot of work, and we would again like to thank everyone who has contributed to any stage. We would also like to mention a special thanks to Miss Hiscock who has supported us all the way through. The next edition… Do you have any suggestions or contributions? If so please contact the writing club/ Miss Bushell by emailing one of the team. Come to writing club on a Monday lunch time! (Room 36a)

The Team:  Daniel Bavister  Megan Brett  Izzy Bushell  Lucy Scullard  Charlotte Graves

 JS Taylor

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