The Dream

The wind whispers to me softly as it caresses my skin.
The light shines through the leaves creating dancing patterns on the ground.
laughter fills the air and I see a young girl running through the trees, running her hands along the trees
I feel the urge to join her, to shout with joy.

Suddenly the sky grows dark.
Grey mist crawls along the the forest floor and cold air wraps itself around me.
The young girl stands infront of me, her eyes no longer shining as she silently weeps.

In her eyes I see an image of a man with skin with cold, calculating eyes void of all emotion.
His eyes seem to see right into my soul sending shivers down my spine.
I want to scream but his power over me is too much.
I watch helplessly as his mouth twists into a sneer.
He is the one in control and I can do nothing but watch.

I wake up.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I give myself over to grief.
I cannot stop the sudden rush of memories.
I have tried to forget.
I have tried to take the pain of my past and lock it away in the corner of my mind.

But the past never truly leaves you.
You can't escape from it forever.
Sooner or later it will find you.
It remains lurking in the background.
It's like a shadow.
It haunts you like a ghost.

Short Story-There is nothing heroic in dying for your country

My mind was in turmoil. How could this have happened? They had assured me that all would go to plan. All it had taken was one minor slip up and everything fell apart.  My hands were shaking and I couldn't sit still. I would have to go on the run. I knew I wouldn't be able to trust anyone. But was there any point? Those men would stop at nothing to get me and I knew that sooner or later they would find me.

I put my head in my hands trying to calm myself.
   "Excuse me. Are you alright?"
I raised my head to find a young waitress looking at me with concern written all over her face. Tears pricked my eyes yet I wouldn't allow them fall. She had such a kind face I felt like pouring my heart out to her. I wanted to life the heavy burden on my shoulders. I wanted to tell her about the pain I felt. I could still hear the screams which were like daggers that pierced my heart. I could still remember their faces as if it were only a second ago I was in that prison cell not knowing whether I would make it out alive and return home to my beloved England. I remembered the emptiness in their eyes as they stared at the sea of rats which crawled over their feet not seeming to care whether they lived or died. I smiled at the waitress assuring her I was fine though I was far from it.

I looked around the cafe. Two teenage girls were laughing hysterically clutching their stomachs. An old lady shot a disapproving look at them as she sipped her cup of tea. A young man ran past in pursuit of his dog whose eyes were filled with excitement as it charged down the street. How I envied them. I missed having a normal life. I had often wondered whether I had made the right decision.

My mind wandered back to my first mission briefing. I had been so nervous yet keen to impress. I was so young and naive. All I thought about was becoming a hero and saving my country. But medals mean nothing to me now. After my first mission I was a changed man and my past is now haunted by the many horrors I have faced.

I caught the eye of the young waitress who had approached me earlier. She was watching me carefully and I gave her another smile. I felt uneasy yet I didn't know why. Suddenly someone laid a hand on my shoulder.Without thinking I got up and ran. Everything around me was a blur. I ignored the shouts as I crashed into market stalls sending items flying in every direction. I could hear my blood pounding in my ears and I could feel my skin heating up. The wind whistled by and whipped my face. Then suddenly I was in the middle of a road. Tyres screeched. I heard shouts. Car horns blasted at me from all sides. Then a shot. My feet left the ground and I found myself lying on my back in something wet which was seeping through my jacket. I could see blurred faces above me and my vision slowly faded.

They were wrong. There is nothing heroic in dying for your country.

Life

Life for you, (who we are) has been less than kind
So take a number, (who we are) stand in line
We've all been sorry, (who we are) we've all been hurt
But how we survive, (who we are) is what makes us who we are
Song: Survive
Band: Rise Against

D of E-last day

Feet sore
Back aches
Mind empty
Muscles begging to stop
The fog creates illusions and false hopes
The mud waiting to trap passerbys
The spitting rain is cold and gentle on our skin.
The thought of a warm shower is the fuel which keeps us going

Up the hill (poem)

The sun beats down on our backs
The soft breeze wraps around us and dances between our fingers
We reach the hill which looms above us.
Time seems to strech out.
Seconds become minutes, minutes feel like hours.
All thoughts have left my mind.
I concentrate on putting one foot infront of the other.
I look ahead and for a second my heart is filled with joy as it seems I have nearly reached the top
Yet the smile vanishes from my face as I realise I have been decieved.
I battle on through the last stages of the climb.
Finally I reach the top.

by Sara Montgomery

Banksy

At London Zoo, he climbed into the penguin enclosure and painted "We're bored of fish" in 7-foot-high (2.1 m) letters.




The three images above are three of the nine images Bansky painted onto the Israeli West Bank Barrior in 2005. Banksy's spokeswoman said ''The Israeli security forces did shoot in the air threateningly and there were quite a few guns pointed at him."

andy goldsworthy inspired pieces

When I went on an art trip with my class we went to the beach and made sculptures inspired by Andy Goldsworthy.

The above sculpture was made by me and a couple of my friends.

My thoughts for the day

So I was coming back from the gymn and i started thinking about people's obssesion with staying young and getting the ''perfect body'' which according to alot of people is a flat tummy. There are so many television programs about staying young or looking younger. You don't need to get a flat stomach and be a size zero or six to look good. When I look at models on the runway they look like they are about to snap.

Also, i think my laptop has a will of it's own and it seems to not want to work for me all the time anymore. Maybe it has an evil side and it's plotting...if that's even possible..okay I think I had better stop because if I go on the next thing I know I will be typing complete nonsense which is actually rather fun.

Another thing I find entertaining is doing air guitar at a disco to Bon Jovi Living on a Prayer.

Band: Nickleback
Song: If today was your last day

My favourite lyrics from the song:

My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride

Class presentation(poem)

This poem is based on when I had to to talks in english class when i was younger and I always got so nervous. This is basically how I felt.

The voices seem distant.
My skin feels hot.
Palms sweaty.
Heart racing so fast
My mind crowded with thoughts.
I can't concentrate on anything.
I want to fade into the background.
A voice in the distant is calling me.
It's coming closer and closer.
I am back in the classroom.
All heads turned in my direction.
Eyes watch me as i walk to the front.
I can feel their eyes on me, looking right through me.
I open my mouth but no sound comes out.
I know what they are all thinking.
I can see them laughing at me inside.
My hands shake.
I begin my talk.

The Forest, another poem

The Forest
The sun shines through the leaves creating patterns of dancing light.
Green vines wrap themselves around the tree trunks, climbing higher and higher
The birds sing songs of joys as they build their nests in the tall trees.

The branches cast shadows in the moonlight.
The only sound is a whisper as the cool breeze dances around the leaves.
Darkness moves through the trees changing all that crosses its path.

By Sara Montgomery

Go open the door(poem)

Go open the door
outside there is laughter, running feet on the dry grass
Three children, hidden secrets beneath those smiles
Or perhaps you see the sea rising up, devouring anything in its way
Or maybe you can see a small girl
Her eyes emptry, her heart cold stone
She moves among people like a ghost

by Sara Montgomery

Memories and music

When i listen to some of the music on my Ipod i thing of specific places or memories. Coldplay reminds me of when i went on a family holiday to the Isle of Mull as that was the main artist we played in the car. Tracy Chapman reminds me of my time in Zambia and all the happy memories.

I hate it when i am just about to fall asleep and i suddenly an embarrasing memory enters my head and i hide my face in my pillow trying to forget it which doesn't work.

Keeping a diary

I have kept a diary for 8 years and i am now 16. I write in it my feelings, what i have done, my fears or anything random that comes into my head when writing. Often when I have an urge to write in my diary  i don't know what to write. But once I start writing all these thoughts just come flowing out and i end up writing quite a bit. I find it relaxing. When im in Nigeria i often like to write in my diary whilst sitting in a tree though i don't know why. I still remember when i got my first diary. I didn't want to be parted from it and kept writing in it the whole day.

do you really want to name your boat that?

The playroom(poem)

An old doll propped up against the wall, worn away by time, its eyes filled with sadness
The sound of a rocking horse moving back and forth, a faint sweet laugh fills the air
The floor is a battlefield covered in stuffed toys that have been ripped apart.
They ly there helpless and unwanted.
Puppets hang form the ceiling slowly turning, their mouths twisted into cold sneers, their eyes deep, dark holes.
A small music box sits on the shelf playing the same never-ending tune over and over again.
The little girl still remains
The truth hidden, her sweet smile a disguise
Her eyes show her pain, her fear
She shall never be free
No one knows what happened that night
No one ever will

by Sara Montgomery

The past (poem)

I am a puzzle with thousands of pieces so small
I am forever with you every minute, every second
I haunt you like a ghost
Some people try to run from me but they never can
I will always be a part of you
by sara montgomery

mottos

Life is a challenge but that's what makes it interesting.

Always be prepared