Today is a good day!

Seven-thirty is the the usual time I get up in the morning. My mom tries to push it to seven, but that never works. My breakfast is my favorite meal of the day (sometimes). My normal breakfast is something like oat meal, egg or fruit. When I wake up in the mornings I am pretty much asleep. That is why I’m usually grumpy. Think of what my parents have to deal with every morning – not a pleasant experience.
 I live twenty minutes and forty-three seconds

from my school, not that anyone’s counting… that would just be weird. When I am near school there is always a big traffic jam (you know, the slowest kind of jam). Now and then I just jump out of Pearl, the name my mom gave our car (don’t even ask) and walk the rest of the way.
At school, my time table has ten slots each representing a period of forty-five minutes. My first period is … who cares! I am here to entertain, not to completely melt your brains or to bore you to death. Why should you suffer? 
So first break, you wouldn’t exactly say I do stuff. All I really do is walk around, talk to friends and play on my iPad. When I do play games I normally play stuff like Ninja jump or strangely enough Space Invaders. I beat my high score last Thursday. To do that all in twenty minutes. You could say I am pretty active!
Second break is a time to relax consisting of a whole period, in other words a long time. That is the time I get to breathe, have some fresh air and to play football if there’s space that is.
 There is a mini hockey field to play on and more than two year groups having to share the playing space. Do you understand my problem?

So I am going to try and solve this issue, I know people who know people deep in the student council. That will make me Robin Hood of the school, well at least I hope so.
I just thought, you kind of got the point of the breaks so lets go to the last period. Last period is the worst of the day. Sitting there, anxiously looking at the clock waiting to hear the sweat sound of the bell. It’s like listening to classical music for an hour hoping it would end sooner rather than later. To think that people actually do that… ahhh hippies!
School has ended but that doesn’t mean the day is over. My football practice starts at six pm. If you’re wondering, it’s not the rugby rip-off one, it’s the one you actually use your feet. We normally do technical stuff and sometimes we play a match. Once a month we do fitness training, then we have to be there an hour earlier.
When I get home its about eight pm and I eat dinner. My preferred meals are pasta, pizza, chicken or fish. I am going to stop there because even by writing this it makes me hungry.
Bed. You see, I am what you call or what my mom calls a “procrastinator” (at least I am a pro at it, hehe). Me and sleep have a bad history together, it’s like mixing jelly and chocolate. Everybody knows it only works with peanut butter and jelly. Then again I do fall asleep anyway after a good day!
The end.    




Gladiator by Simon Scarrow Mothers side

14 April 2016

After Marcus had got away and the man had finally given up he came back for his mother. Sacred of what was to come she started limping away but with the Broken ankle she knew it was impossible. The tired man held his nose after what Marcus and his mother did. He then went on to grabbing her by the hair and dragging her back in to the chariot. He through her in with all his frustration which knocked her out cold. By this time it was 18:00 and as you may have already noted there was not much traveling the day. She woke up finding herself next to an inn in the position she had been thrown from earlier that day. A broken ankle and no clue to where she was all she could think about was if her dear son was okay. She could hear the sound of laughter and the clink of beer glasses hitting each other. She thought it was best to go to sleep. The next morning arrived and the man had come out of the inn he throw her a stale piece of bread and said “eat up cause that’s all you’re are going to get” he the grunted and moved to the front of the chariot. A day or two went by and each second her ankle started to look worse and worse. Finally they had arrived to a huge mansion. The setting around it was quite dull. It was a purely marble and stone mostly colored white. Inside she could hear the screams of slaves. Her body was pumped with adrenaline and fear yet she looked as if she hadn’t sleept in years. She heard the driver jump out and whisper something she could only make out “the boy” and “escaped”. The guard the stamped his sword on the ground. She then heard a getank and the guard walking over to the back. He slammed the door open and said “GET OUT” a second later he pulled her by the and dragged her through the ruble. The gates of the mansion open as if they were those of a horror house.

Through day and night and through intensty all she could think about was.



Is Steven Bergwijn the new and improved Depay?

Steven Bergwijn is an eighteen year old football phenomenon who plays for Psv( a club in the Dutch league the Erdedevisie). In 2011 he signed for Psv youth team after having an unpleasant time Afc Ajax( also in the Erdedevisie). He finally went on to his match debut on the 9 of August 2014. Just like Depay he plays leftwing and is skilled player. Unlike Depay he is a down to earth team player. The under rated player on Fifa has Psv on high expectations for the future.

Check out Bergwijn

Memphis Depay:

Age: 21

Goals for current club:4

Teams played for: Psv and Manchester United 

Shirt number:7

Weight: 78kg

Position: left attacking midfield

Strong points:skilled with the ball, has a lot of speed, plays well in his position 


Steven Bergwijn:

Age: 18

Goals for current club: 7

Clubs played for: Ajax youth and Psv

Shirt number: 27

Weight: 74kg

Positions: left attacking midfielder

Strong points: skilled with the ball, team player, has a lot of speed.


World Cup football fact quiz

  1. What’s the name of the Colombian player that died after scoring an own goal in the World Cup and in which World Cup was it?
  2. Who is better Neymar or the Brazilian Ronaldo?
  3. Who scored the winning goal in 2014 World Cup final
  4. Who has won the most times in World Cup history
  5. Who was captain of the England team when maradona scored with his has
  6. Answers will be posted tomorrow! 
  7. Leave the Q number and answer in the comments below
  8. How well will you do?

A Mysterious Case

Chapter Two
As I slowly came to I heard two voices drifting in the background a man and a woman, they were going on about a character named Slade. Just thinking about the name gave me chills down my spine. The last time I heard that name, Slade was at the bottom of a ravine somewhere in South America. When I regained full consciousness I tried opening my eyes. As I took a peek I shut them again. The light too intense. I tried again, this time my eyes had adjusted to my surroundings. I was seated in a dark blue chair in a huge white room. In front of me was a long white table. At the end of it sat a slim woman with dark brown hair, green eyes and lightly tanned skin. She was wearing a modern red dress and black high heels. Behind her stood a big man with black hair gelled to the back of his head. He was wearing an ear piece and a black tuxedo. Clearly not the guy you wanna meet in a dark parking lot. These are obviously the two I heard talking before I came to. At first there was an awkward silence, then the woman spoke, she spoke with a mysterious Swiss accent. 

“Good day Mr Shaw” she said. Before I got to answer she spoke again.

“We are sorry for the inconvenience. As we knew that you would not accept this case at first.”

“If this has got anything to do with Slade, count me out. Besides Slade, is dead.” I said.

“I see we got off on the wrong foot. Let me introduce myself, my name is Helah Bauer, agent E for short. My friend here is agent X his real name is classified. We work for the European secret intelligence alliance or E.S.I.A if you will.”

“Well it nice to meet you Helah and you to mr classified.” As he gave me frightening look.

“I am glad to see your in a good spirit, cause here comes the not so nice part.” At that moment she slid over an envelope. On the envelope stood Slade in big bold letters. I opened it with a bit of a tremble. Inside the envelope were cases that were unsolved, all of which had to do with Slade I presume. To just brake it down for you, Slade is a man that wears a devilish mask and leaves no clues at his crime scenes except for an arrow made out of the victims blood. I was assigned and killed him two years ago, at least I thought so.

    “Why am I reading this exactly? What am I even doing here?

“Well…” she began, ” unfortunately there have been sightings of him, meaning he made it out of South America alive. We are confused as well as to how this is possible. E.S.I.A sent us to make sure he doesn’t survive again. We were thinking as one of the best detectives of our era” the moment she said that I blushed a little ” and the person who stopped him the first time, you could help us exterminate him for good.

“And what would be in it for me”

“£17,000 and more” 

I thought about it for a minute.

“If I were to accept would I be able to tell any one?”

“Yes if you don’t value the person you tell’s life.” Still not sure which option to take. What if I were to die along the way? Would it be worth it? Is this dangerous adventure worth the amount of money? Then I asked “Do I really have an option?” Finally agent X spoke, he spoke with a clear Danish accent.


“Well then that settles it” I said

“You will be meeting us in Wales on the 6 of October at four sharp, this binder contain everything you need from first class tickets to information.” She then handed the plain black folder over to me. Before I knew it I felt the same pain as before and just like that I was knocked out. Falling down I saw nothing before me. 

Me Myself and I

I am argumentatieve at times                                                                                                                                                     I would even argue that the color blue is not blue                                                                                                                              When I’m grumpy my body grimes                                                                                                                                     My mom tells me to be a lawyer too

I’m very sporty especially with cricket                                                                                                                           When I bowl the ball your defiantly out                                                                                                                                           As it swing past you it hits the wicket                                                                                                                                                           It hits the wicket without a doubt

I am kind and friendly                                                                                                                                                                   I am funny like bugs bunny                                                                                                                                                         I will help willingly                                                                                                                                                                         But I can be such a dummy
In the end you can be my friend                                                                                                                                                     You can borrow or lend                                                                                                                                                                       I do not pretend but defend                                                                                                                                                                Till the dead end