Malaria

This drawing that I have made here is about a disease called Malaria and shows the symptoms you can develop when you have it. Malaria is caused by infected Mosquitoes.

 

Peter’s Journey

As I walked for miles, exhausted, I spotted families praying to get out of this mess. Feet ached with no destination. Shivering cold winds rush past, shaking with coldness. My feet feel bare and dry. People with injuries suffering from their burning pain. The rough ground made it difficult to walk while explosive echo’s replayed in my head, erasing all other thoughts. I felt in danger everywhere I looked. I wondered if this would ever stop? Looking up at my dad who carried all the belongings in one huge bag, I know he’s in pain, we all are. We came to a destination, well not an actual destination but a place we could finally rest. Huddled with my dad, laying on a spare jacket for warmth in the freezing cold. Feeling an ease of mind in my dads arms.

 

This Is Me

Kia Ora, my name is Nicole and I am a year 8 and my teacher is Ms George at Saint Patrick’s School. I enjoy sleeping and playing my guitar. My favourite subject is maths. My goal for this year is to do good in all my subjects at school. 

 

   

My Trinity

God the father is the candle that holds the wick and flame together.

God the Son is the flame that gives light to all.

God the Holy Spirit is the lighter that keeps the flame going.

My Marshmallow Construction

For term 3 the year 7’s and I have science. On the first day we met our teacher. She was really kind and her name was Ms Ikiua. During the first block she explained to us what we were going to be doing. She told us that we were going to have to make a tower out of 20 pieces of dry spaghetti, 1 meter of cello-tape and 1 marshmallow. We watched a video of some of the tallest towers in the world from the early years to the most recent towers built so we could get some inspiration and some ideas of the structures the towers used to support it.  she gave us all a blank piece of paper to plan out what our layout would be. While we were planning she prepared the dry spaghetti, cello-tape and marshmallows so we didn’t waste time. Luckily we were able to feel the spaghetti. It felt really thin and was really easy to break but the smaller the spaghetti the harder it was to break.

Around 9:30 we started constructing. Something I found strange is that we all used triangles for our base. Some of us went for height and some of us went for stability. For my tower I tried to make a house like shape and start working my way up but connecting the dry spaghetti together was harder than I thought it would be. One of my classmates started off with a really small triangle making her tower more stable and easy to pick up and move around while my classmate  focused on height. Even though his one was tall his tower was struggling to hold up and stay together.

Once the 15 minutes were up we put everything we were holding on the table. Ms Ikiua asked us if it was okay if we could show each other our strategy and what we did. Explaining what I had built made me a bit embarrassed as I didn’t accomplish what I was expecting but in the end everyone came out with a different strategy which made me realize that mine was not bad because it was my first time and everyone’s building would be different in the end which made everyone’s building unique.

 

 

The Yellow Umbrella

Dear Diary,

Dad and I are on this boat, I haven’t been on one before. People are rummaging through crowds. I feel the warmth of my dad’s arms as he holds me tight. Huge waves crash into the boat, gusts of wind blow my hair and screams of agony as people try to end it.

As we get closer land is near. Getting off, dad and I walk past a bakery shop. My empty stomach rumbles. Just looking at the food makes my mouth drool. I can imagine the sweet pastry melting in my mouth. The smell of peoples odour stuck on my clothing.

We sit down to rest, exhausted and starving. Dad’s holding me tight in his arms making me feel warm. Something is missing. My mom. Looking back at dad. I know he misses her, I do too.

As I try to fall asleep the sound of police sirens irritates me, keeping me awake. Glancing at my dad I can see how tired he is. Minutes go by fast, zoning out wishing I could go back to my old life. The amount of people on the streets, mothers begging for food to feed their children and peoples loved ones who they might have lost during the journey.

Walking past buildings, we come to a stop. A brown humongous house looms in front of us. Stepping onto the porch my dad looks at me with a guilty sad look. He gets down and gives me a tight warm hug. He gets back up with his yellow umbrella and walks away. As he walks he suddenly stops. He turns around and gives me a miserable look. He continues to walk away slowly disappearing into the distance.

Marine Reserve Rules

This drawing is a notice board showing what the marine reserve rules are and some of the marine sea life such as fish, crabs, starfish and sea sponges. One of the rules is to not fish. If you do fish the consequences are you getting a fine or getting your fishing equipment and boat taken away. You can also go to prison for 3 months. I enjoyed making this because I  had the opportunity to learn more about marine reserves.

Alma Writing

I’m happily skipping through town, the crunchy sound of snow on the filthy cobblestone. Snowflakes fall from the grey sky covering the roofs of houses. I leap onto the sidewalk with a beam of happiness across my face. I pass by soggy old, missing person posters, though I don’t take any notice of them. Carrying on with my day I stumble upon something. The slippery snow makes me slide causing an icy crispy sound. To my surprise I look up and find a blackboard filled with names.

I take a step closer. Grabbing hold of a piece of white chalk. Looking at the board I contentedly write my name. The chalk makes a squeaking noise that irritates me. Dropping the chalk on the cold white snow I pull down my red scarf. I slightly smile. Suddenly a rusty mechanical sound plays. Curiously I look behind, eager to know what I have just heard. Spotting a doll… it somehow looked familiar to me. Turning around and walking up to the window I wipe it with my beige mitten. Taking a look inside, I see the doll again in a closer view. I inspect my outfit in surprise. Moving along to a wooden door with a glass window. Taking a peek inside I find the doll again.

Grabbing the door handle attempting to open it. Nothing budges. Frustrated, I stomp my right foot into the crunchy snow. I go down to the ground, picking up a pile of snow and creating a snowball  angrily throwing the cold snowball at the door. Stomping away a creaking noise distracts me.

 Looking back confused I see the door is open. I quickly run back and push the  door open. In shock I step into the shop. Searching for the doll I finally find it standing on a red vintage table. After staring at its soulless body I decide to approach it. Going closer I look up and reach out my hand to touch it until.. I trip over a doll. This one looks strangely odd. It is on a white tricycle pedalling really fast. The eyes of the doll looked scared and are staring at the door that was about to be closed. Bending down to pick it up it rapidly pedals towards the closed door slamming himself as if he wants to get out so badly. Standing back up I look and the doll has disappeared.

My happiness now turns to confusion. Looking under the table, on the shelves until I find it on the top shelf. Climbing onto the couch I knock over these 2 dolls. One of the dolls has only one eye. Holding onto the couch with one arm I use my teeth to remove one of my mittens. I reach my hand out and continue to touch the dolls mouth. Suddenly the doll looks down at me and suddenly visions of dolls being made appear. In no time I am in the doll. My eyesight is like a fisheye lens view. My heavy breathing makes me more scared. I look over to the front of the shop and see another doll being made ready for the next victim.