The fifth week of the Diploma Games and everyone is eager to grab more points before the grand final. The challenge was to write a short poem or story about ten items in a jar! The items included: spotty socks, sunglasses, a green whistle and many more strange and bizarre objects. The objective of the challenge was to please the literacy experts with your adjectives and creativity in your story.
All of the teams got off to a good start, discussing how they were going to write their stories. Some teams decided to all write different stories and merge them together afterwards, some decided to all work together to write one story and others assigned themselves different parts of the story to write so that everybody had a job to do.
We decided to interview some members of a team;
News team: What strategies are you using?
7G: Most of us are in high sets, so we are going to use that as an advantage. We are all going to put forward ideas and then mix them all together after.
NT- What’s your story based on so far?
7G- Two friends; one boy and one girl.
NT- Do you think you have a chance in winning?
7G- Definitely, I have full confidence in my team.
Some teams were less confident about winning saying, “I don’t think we’re going to win; the items are totally unexpected.”
It was challenging, but all of the teams managed it in the end, with 7A very quick to finish but a few teams straggling behind, trying to make the finishing touches to their stories. Everybody is eager to hear the scores; all the scores are relatively close together and a few extra points might make a big difference.
With week five finished, all the forms await the scores and look forward to the grand finale; the Obstacle Course!
Here is the winning story by 7F, quite chilling.
In a town in the middle of no-where people went missing. They just disappeared. Every witness saw the same thing. A tall figure, their face concealed by an orange face mask. Coupled by a plaster on his right hand. And the last, chilling detail, the dirty polka-dot-sock. Likely coming from a previous victim.
The little girl stood there clutching her fluffy pink unicorn, her pink glittery microphone, her green whistle. A Whistle she would never have time to blow if the creature came. To deliver her pain. To deliver her misery. To deliver her death.
They came over-night the loud, pepperoni-pizza-eating, sunglass wearing, unsuspecting teenagers. The ones who were too stupid to think when they had to pay a five pound note for the key to that house. To that life. To that death………………….