Cabot Year Six

The annual zoo trip. I lived in fear of that day in July. Whatever the topic, Mr.Middleton would march us to the ancient, rickety, beat-up school coach.  It was hot and arid with the wind blowing a gentle breeze the sky was a nice blue. When we arrived, I realised that the zoo hadn’t changed a bit since I last visited – roasted and ancient.

“This is the room in which we will be staying in,” barked the small but rather vicious zookeeper “You will start the day off by holding the king of arachnids- the Tarantula.” He continued as specks of spit flew like bullets. He glared at us viciously with the ugly brute in his hand. The whole class shuddered at the same time as he pushed the humongous beast in our faces one by one. A smell of fear had entered the room…

I glared at the spider fear filling my heart. It was huge, hairy and giant. It glared at us with a look of royalty in its eyes. I imagined dropping it and all its baby’s coming out running towards me. Then, I imagined it biting me and eating me from the inside out; it was eating my lungs and now my heart. I snapped out of it as I heard the first name being called up to the middle of the room. I remained silent; too scared to speak a word. The zookeeper barked, “Steadman, Mackenzie.” That was me…

I walked to the small man, the whole room gazing upon me. It was like they were waiting to be entertained there it was in front of me: the Tarantula. It was looking at me with hunger in its eyes.  It was ready to sink its venom into my blood. The brute started crawling up my arm. My chest tightened. My hands went clammy. My mind went blank. Was this dying?

This wasn’t too bad I thought to myself. The spider was removed. My heart-rate went back to normal. I sat down in relief. I took control of my mind once again. I loved spiders. The zookeeper shouted “Thank you all for being so calm while you had the king in your hands.”

As soon as he finished, the whole class cheered and congratulated me. I felt amazing. I wanted this day too last forever. On the way out, we all shook the staff’s hands. The zookeeper  (bob) said, “see you next year! I hope you like snakes!”

Oh no. I hated snakes…

Auditions. I lived in fear of that day. Whatever the weather, Mrs. Jones would drag us into an old, rusty coach and would take us to the schools favorite place-the theater. It was large and huge. Every time I would step in, I’d SHIVER. It would give me the creeps every time I would look up. It was silent as the night falling and would make creaky noises everywhere you would go it would instantly make you shake. Who knew how terrible it was going to go.

Soon as we had arrived, Mrs. Jones towered above me glaring giving eye to eye contact she said words that had made my eyes widen. “You will all participate.” My mouth had no words as she started talking forever about the boring rules. No-one had listened anyway. Mrs. Jones had no mercy on anyone what was the word? Oh yes, selfish, selfish was Mrs. Jones. She only got her way because she is like 50. The only reason why we’re here doing auditions is because whoever wins you get a heck of a lot of money but we never won and probably never will and that’s exactly when auditions had started.

I turned my head to see Mrs. Jones arranging kids in a straight line. We had to sing. Out of all things…Singing really? I do enjoy singing, but not in front of 10 billion people! It was always a disaster so I never actually had my hopes up because honestly…I had stage fright. My chest would tighten; sweat had cascaded down my back down my back. I starred wide eyed as the line had got shorter. What if my voice cracked? What if they made fun of me? What if all those negative thing happen? Well that was about to change.

I slowly dragged myself up on stage as someone held out the microphone I had taken it. I looked around to see everyone was staring at me, praying I wouldn’t be unsuccessful this time, I took a deep breath like my panic level was at 100. I relaxed and calmly placed the microphone to my mouth and let out a small word I had gulped. I started singing lyrics from my favourite song; my head was pounding with thoughts. I did it. I let my mouth be free; I let everything out and after everything had stopped.

Everyone had come rushing up to me cheering. I gave a huge smile as I went into crowd surf like I was their idol. I never thought it would be so easy, I let out a relived sigh, I thought it would be much harder.

From that very day I learned things could be as easy as that. I became more hopeful but guess what? I don’t have stage fright anymore! I felt like I conquered the world! Impossible to possible, hard to easy and a simple one, stage fright to over-coming fears!

SATS!  I lived in fear of that day in early May. Whether we were ill or not, Mr. Ross would take us to the vast spare classroom and give us the dreaded exams. We had studied non-stop for years and it all came down to SATS. It was a cold, dreary day and the rain drummed on the roof. The room was swallowed by silence.

“These are the rules!” barked Mr. Ross as saliva foamed at the side of his mouth. “You do not look around your table. If you need something, put your hand up!” he bellowed, towering over us as flex of spit flew out of his mouth.

“You may start now!” he boomed, looking at his watch. We all opened our papers and the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of pencils. What if I failed?  What would my parents say to me? Sweat cascaded down my spine. My heart was in my throat. Thoughts rushed to my mind.

“You have thirty minutes left!” Mr. Ross announced. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Ross examining the exams.  The seven years of learning flashed before my eyes. The questions looked complicated. Everything that Mr. Ross had taught me rushed to my mind. Terror washed through me. My face was pale and my lips were dry.

As I worked through the test, I knew how to answer it. It was easy. So was the next one. I knew how to do it. I felt way more confident. “Close your papers now!” he boomed as if he was an army general.

He collected in all the papers. A week later, I found out that I had passed! I had done it. My class mates patted me on the back and burst into applaud.  Next time, I might not be that afraid of SATS.

Dentist Day-Amira

Dentist day!  I lived in fear of that dreaded day. Whatever the day of the week it was , my mum would march me down to the most horrible place ever-the local dentist.

It was a busy day at the dentist, as I noticed scared patients waiting for their turn. Today, was a wet dreary day; my clothes were already sodden and the rain was getting heavier and heavier. There were screams everywhere.

“ Your turn!”  bellowed the nurse impatiently. Already sweat was cascading down my forehead as my mum pushed me to the dentist room. With fear rushing through me, I sat down nervously in the dentist chair. “Right! We are about to begin,” he shouted as he loomed over me. Specs of spit foamed at the corners of his mouth.                                                                                                                                                              “Err ok,” I muttered.

As I lay back, I was blinded by light. He opened my mouth and he switched the drill. Clenched fists, I held the chair as my chest started tightening. The nurse’s beady eyes were looking through me as he covered his mouth with is mask. I closed my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath.

Finally, I opened my eyes slowly and I saw him take drill out of my mouth. “Nearly done!” he smirked and my blood was wiped with a cotton wool. Terrified and shocked; I couldn’t believe I’d done it. With a sigh of relief, I saw my mum thank the nurse.

With pride rushing through me, I jumped up and down with happiness, as my mum gave me a shiny bright sticker. Confidently, I rushed downstairs knowing that I’d done it, I’d over-come my fear.

By Amira

SATS!

SATS! I lived in fear of that day in early MAY. Whatever we were studying for the past 9 months, e had to do the dreaded exams. However much I begged not to do them the following day, the more badly they got. Mr Ross quickly told us to get in class. When I got in, all the tables were separated and the displays were covered. The hot humid sun boiled on the class room windows. “Good morning” snapped the teacher grinning at me.

“Hello” I said back at Mr Ross with my back hunched up.

“Today is SATS day and you will be doing the reading and number one maths paper.” Mr Ross explained to us. Spit flexed on the side of his mouth. “The rules are: no cheating, no talking and no asking for answers and put your hand up if you want something.” He told us. I was terrified of the papers, “Can I have some water please?” I asked timidly biting my nails.

There they were the SATS papers! They were all piled up a and stacked in order. Gazing at the papers , Imagining what it would be like doing those papers and probably getting zero marks. The teacher / Mr Ross came round with the papers as if he was going to tell me to do them all in one go without any breaks! There were two papers a pencil, a rubber a ruler in front of me. I took a deep breath, trying to stop thinking of all those dreary and dreadful marks.

The teacher counted down “Three, two one and turn to instructions.” Reading the instructions Mr Ross also read the instructions. All the instructions talked about what you find in the reading test paper. As I finished reading the instructions, the teacher told us to start…

As I turned my paper, reading the first question and answering it, it seemed like I was doing year 2 papers. As I went on, the questions seemed as they were getting easier and easier. I was on the last question of the first text. My classmates around me also seemed to find it easy.

As I was turning on to my second text, I thought that I had got twenty marks already; I knew most of the questions and the text was a text that I already knew. Also, the questions were really easy. A few weeks later, I got my reading results back and  I couldn’t  believe I had got 92% , which was more than the expected . I couldn’t believe it, I cheered in joy and happiness with my classmates, my parents and my teacher congratulated me with a prize.

Performance day. I lived in fear of this dreadful day. I had to perform on the vast, bright stage, in front of Simon Cowell –my worst fear.

The stage was large, it hadn’t changed in years. There were hundreds of chairs facing me and all of them were packed. It was a hot day and sweat cascaded down my forehead. The spot light was on me.

“Next!” barked Simon Cowell Impatiently. Heart racing, I walked to the middle of the stage. In front of me were thousands of eager ears, waiting for me to sing.”Come on!” he nagged. Simon Cowell was short tempered. The lines on his forehead looked like train tracks. He loomed over me and I could see his hairy nostrils. His breath stank like garlic.

Bang! The drummer had started and I knew I had 4 beats until I started singing. My hands were getting sweaty as I was holding the microphone. Legs like jelly, I began to sing the very first note. As I struggled to calm down, my breathing went faster and faster. It felt like I was singing for 3 hours. Although I was trying to hold the microphone steady, it was shaking uncontrollably.

Finally, I was on the last note. In the distance I could see my mum cheering, waiting for me to finish. As I continued to sing the final note of my song, the audience started to c lap. As I struggled to catch my breath, I smiled.

I did it. I sang the song. My mum flung her arms around me, as tears ran down her cheeks. I had overcome my fear. I did it!

Dentist!

Every six months, I would be marched to the horrible, scary dentist. I couldn’t believe my ears when I was told I had to go to the dentist. I would be taken to the most terrifying, scary place-the dentist.

All I could hear was the screams of young children crying and the adults just looking at us crying. It was a wet, stormy day, the sound of the drills sounded like the sound of the storm, I could hear outside. The frighten children, were biting their nails and I had clenched my fingers. I thought to myself, I wish I could have white, clean teeth for the rest of my life, but unfortunately I have smelly, dirty, disgusting teeth, which frighten people away.

“Lie down, bellow the bright light!” shouted the horrible dentist loudly. All this man would do was make people cry and make people jump. With fear racing through me, I took a step closer to the chair. My name was called but I made the dentist wait five minutes. “Hurry up” shouted the dentist as he loomed above me.

As the dentist glared at me, I knew he was going to use the biggest, fasted drill in this room. With clenched fists, I gripped the chair for dear life.  I gently closed my eyes and waited for the drill to end. As I struggled to calm myself down, I tried to think of a nice, quiet, beach  where no-one was , but my breathing became faster and faster. With a rasping breath, I tried my best to stay extremely still or I would make the pain even worse for myself. Without a care in the world, the dentist shoved another sharp, metal tool into my mouth.

Finally, the drill was getting slower and slower, but I was still in a lot of pain. With a sigh of relief, I could see my mum getting m coat and I realised it was nearly over. I could hear my mum saying “thank you,” to the dentist and appreciating what he had done to make me feel better. With pride rushing through me, I marched down the stairs and out of the front door. I had done it. I had survived the horrible dentist.

Spiders! I lived in fear every year when Mr. Joe took us to the zoo. April was always the worst. The thought of having to hold spiders hit me. What if it went up my sleeve? What if it infected me? The question kept popping up. Mr Joe marched us to the coach as if we were solders. The smell of the coach lingered making me travel sick. Mr Joe took a glance at my steaming face and smirked at me with his razor sharp teeth.

It seemed as if we were on the coach for days. Mr Joe snapped, “We are all going to hold the spiders with the tip of our fingers and our palms.” Mr Joe sniggered but I shivered. Mr Joe clenched his fists and looked at me horribly. At long last we arrived at the zoo. Mr Joe toward over us as tall as the zoo building. “Come on in you nuggets,” Mr Joe barked at us as flex of spit flew right across his moth. The entrance of the zoo stayed the same since I was in reception. It must have changed!

Minutes later, the zoo keeper took us inside the enchanted overwhelming zoo. The sight of the animals swinging side to side and the smell of the animals waste were terrible. Mr Joe stomped inside the zoo with the zoo keeper asking her questions like “Do we get to hold spiders.” I tried to imagine what it would be like holding a spider with its legs and hair. Everyone was exited but sadly I was the only one scared.

As if in slow motion, we had to hold spiders in the smelly, dusty old room. I could feel sweat cascading down my spine. “Each of you will have a turn to this spider,” Mr Joe shouted glaring at me .It wasn’t just a spider, it was a tarantula! The zoo keeper came towards me holding the tarantula. She got further to me and further. I could see the tarantula walking up the zoo keepers arm.  My teeth chattered as sweat dripped down my face. I felt as if all the air was squeezed out of me. It was my turn to hold the tarantula!

3, 2, 1! I had done it!  I held the tarantula. The spider wasn’t a bit scary. I thought tarantulas were cool. “Weldon you held the spider,” The zoo keeper and my friends said patting me on the shoulder. I felt as if a huge weight was lifted of my shoulder!

I can’t believe I held the spider; the tarantula was now my all time favourite animal. First I held the spider, then I was so happy and now I get a pet tarantula! What does a tarantula eat? What If it has babies? I didn’t know!

The Moment of Truth

SATS.  I hated SATS. Whatever we had learned in the past nine months, we would have to do it. Whatever we do, we would have to face the dreaded SATS. We walked into the black, rugged school. Outside was a wet dreary day with the clouds blocking the view of the sun. It was time for the SATS.

As we entered the school, Miss fishing pointed out our seats to us. “These are the rules!” she barked to us. She towered over the top of me with flecks of spit foaming at the side of her mouth. “No calculators and absolutely no phones.” The whole room went silent. Tension filled the air.

The papers were piled up at the front of the class just waiting to be drawn on. My heart was thumping as she modelled some questions. The door slammed shut and the room was completely silent. Not even a peep was made. I thought to myself, what if I get everything wrong. I would fail the exams miserably. At last she had finished talking about the questions. I felt like the air was squeezed out of me.

The papers were getting handed out. I took a deep breath as soon as my paper came to me. “You better pass or you are getting kicked out as the school.” My blood raced through my body as the words tumbled of her mouth. Knees trembling heart thumping it was time to face the dreaded SATS.

Miss fishing finally let us starts the tests. By the time I was on the 10 question, I was flying through the test paper. The more confident I was, the easier it became for me. A few minutes later, I had finished the test paper. I had done it with pride and joy.

Breathing heavily, I saw the relief on my peers face. In fact I had the most relived face in my class. I had a deep breath and my peers had congratulated me with a pat on the back. As soon as my parents came, i gave them a big hug. I had finished the test.

SATS! The day I dreaded most in the year six year: the day that tells me how well I was doing for the last nine months. However much I begged, I still had to do it. I walked into class as the displays were covered and the tables were separated “good morning snapped the teacher as he towered over me.
“hello I said in my miserable tone, with my back hunched and my knees bent like jelly. The weather was as bad as a thousand glass cups smashing on the floor.
“These are the rule” barked Mr Jones as flecks of spit flew out from the side of his mouth. No cheating,! No talking! And put your hand up if you need something. You got that? He commanded.
“Can I got to the toilet?” I asked timidly
“No this is where you’re going to sit.” Said the teacher.
I could see the test papers stacked up in the front of the class. The teacher started to give out the papers. I closed my eyes hoping that something happened like the fire alarm going off.
“Joshua here is your paper.”
Shouted the teacher
“Right it is ten twenty now and we will finish at eleven o clock.”
We started I could hear each and every flick of paper; I could hear the clock ticking; and I could hear my own heart beat. I just couldn’t think straight sweat cascaded down my spine my belly started to rumble as my head started to pound.
I opened my test paper, the first question was easy so was the second. By the tenth I was flying through the test. It felt like a huge lift was lifted off my shoulders. It was getting easier and easier I looked around my friends had huge smiles on their faces My heart rate started to cool down as i finished the test
“Time” said Mr Jones
My paper I got it back I got ninety seven percent! Maybe it wasn’t so bad maybe i could look foward to the next test as my mum and dad kissed me on the forehead.