From The Classroom


Our Athletics Sports Day is coming up in Week 9, on Wednesday the 6th of September. Students have been practising their skills for the events of the day. So far, we have covered shot put, triple jump, long jump and discus. 

Below are some photos of our Foundation students practising their Bean Bag Push (shot put equivalent). Thank you to our Grade 6 helpers for always being willing to lend a helping hand.


The Grade 3/4 dragon eyes have been the talk of the school this week. They spent time researching what dragon eyes look like, their features and textures. They then did a design before creating their dragon eyes out of magiclay. Please enjoy these photos and congratulate them on their amazing creativity. 


Mrs Tuhan

John Furphy Literary Award


Congratulations to Teagan Roberts who had her short story ‘Escape’ commended, in the Junior Short Story section of the John Furphy Literary Award Competition. Her amazing talent for writing, surely shone through in her story. We are very proud of you Teagan!


Escape - by Teagan Roberts


At first, I couldn't understand why I had woken up – all was dark and mysteriously silent, except for the ringing in my ears from the ear-piercing shriek I let out as I was being taken away from my wailing, screaming family. These were events that had merely unfolded only hours earlier. I lay timidly in the dusty, unfamiliar bed in solitude. Or at least that is what I thought. Suddenly, I felt the bony, ice-cold fingers close around my throbbing wrist. ‘Don’t show fear.’ I told myself this, repeatedly, on the night that changed my life forever. 


The chains attached to my inflamed wrists rattle on the cold stone floor as I wearily glance around the unpleasantly familiar room in despair. My mousy brown hair an absolute mess. A cold, hoarse voice arose from outside of the chained door leading to my cellar. “Mildred, you had failed to assist me yesterday. You should be grateful I am giving you a second chance, pathetic girl”, spits the shadowed figure. “Yes sir” I reply droopily, tears welling up in my blue, bloodshot eyes.


The door opens creakily, light floods into the cellar as I get pulled to my feet. The individual violently releases me from the rusted chains. I am dragged up the steps, my grazed ankles running along the floor, into the ordinary looking house that is displayed in front of my bare eyes.


The new wooden floorboards gleam in the sunlit entrance hall that was a nightmare only weeks prior. The hooded figure drags my small, squirming body over to a nearby stool, dotted with blood-red stains, and releases me from his tremendously powerful grip. “You ought to make one hundred dollars this splendid evening, or you will face consequences like never before. And if a single soul finds out about me, you will have no more opportunities to make up for your mistakes. Do not even think about running away. I will find you” states the dreadful man, with beady eyes glaring. 

“Yes sir.” I am pulled to my feet and plunged outside the drab house, where I have made haunting memories that will disturb me forever.


My bruised feet heave along the slim dirt track, growing narrower each long step I take. I can feel my bony spine shivering feverishly. A feeling I know uncomfortably well. My starving stomach churns with the thought. Murderous eyes follow my every move. With my heart thumping, my slow, long steps burst into a fast run. My face tomato red, I come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the confined woods. Leaves rustle behind me. Eyes still peering at me, squinting between wide bushes.


I sprint, my small legs on fire, until I reach a busy footpath, along with a lantern lit village caressing the horizon. My stomach twitches restlessly as I feel another shiver of unpleasantness flow through my agonized body. I walk gently over to a lemonade stand, perched between two old, rough trees. I hide apprehensively behind two tall, figured women lining up for the seemingly popular lemonade, hoping that I have been placed out of sight from the concealed character that has been watching my every move.


“Go”, I whisper urgently under my breath as I break into a sprint into the opposite direction. I ignore the demanding wails from my aggravated legs as I run faster and faster, further and further. I suddenly peer behind my shoulder, glancing at the crowd growing smaller and smaller with each longing step I take. My heart sinks. The man dressed in jet black darts after my scurrying body, his eyes as bitter as ever before. I trot hurryingly into the cramped woods not looking behind me, weaving intently between the thick overgrowth of the dense woods. Large logs and sticks scatter the ground. After five long, torturous minutes, I finally peek behind my shoulder to see the criminal catching up to me. 


Time stops. Blood spews out of my grazed, wounded legs as I fall dramatically to the damp soil. My legs in excruciating pain and my head throbbing painfully. “You have no escape”, I hear a cold voice whisper in my ear. I close my eyes slowly, falling out of reality with no ambition of making it out alive.


Beep. Beep. Beep. A blurry, blaring white room burns my delicate eyes. “Where am I?” I whisper serenely looking surprisingly around at the foreign surroundings. “She’s not waking up”, trembles a red-haired nurse in blue uniform. “Just give it a few more days, Kaitlyn” responds a black-haired doctor. “But it’s already been five months! She has a 5 percent survival rate. It’s too late. We are losing hope… Mildred!” The red-haired nurse dashes alarmingly fast to my bed side, her eyes light up, a smile stretching across her young face.


“You- You’re alive!” squeals the nurse, her glasses practically pressing against my scratched face. I try to move my legs, but they seem glued to the white, flannelette sheets on the hospital bed. “Mildred, I’m sorry, you - you’ve been paralysed” the nurse says droopily. 

“Where’s my family!?” I say, my eyes wide with curiosity.

“They will be here soon” the nurse soothes.

“Mum! Dad!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Tears pour down my red, scarred face.

“Mildred!” my mother and father both sing genially.

“Look at you!” my mother says with pure delight.

“You’re alive!” Tears stream down her face. A tight sensation forms around my body as I get pulled into a tight, heart-warming hug.

“Mum, Dad, I’m so happy to see your faces again!” 

“I know what that man did to you was truly gruesome, Mildred” my father says, squeezing my wounded hand firmly. “That man will pay for the damage he has done to you, Mildred. Being paralysed won’t be fun, but it symbolises how much of a brave, strong warrior you are” cries my mother.

“We will be by your side for the rest of eternity, you should know that.”