The School Books

Mine.

c1979 - 1985.

I have a confession to make. I'm sentimental. Overtly so. And I've been clearing out the garage this afternoon, trying to let go of the boys' clothes and toys to donate. I still have my entire collection of Vogue magazines that I started to collect in the 1980s at the time I was becoming interested in fashion photography. They would later be partly dissected to decorate my walls at uni. And here, dated 1979 to 1985, my school books and extracts from a story I wrote aged 11 from the Sacred Heart of Mary Girls' Convent. I'll have to read it I guess and see if it was any good or a bit strange. They're well travelled. I've moved a great deal in my life whilst in the UK, then the UK to Fort Lauderdale, now LA. There you go. My secret is out...


"I will never go there again
By Catherine Lacey, Aged 11

"The summer had begun and the holidays were well on the way. The fresh sweet air told everyone that they should be prepared for the 'rushing period'. The two Riley twins were beginning to pack for their vacation in the surprise holiday organised by our drama group. All in all there was Lisa, Anne, Jennifer and I (Jennifer and Anne being the twins) in our group.

It was a warm but breezy day when we set off. The luggage was piled into the twelve seater coach and the final goodbyes were said to the parents leaving their children with a tear in each eye, about to drop and roll down their faces. We were off, all 13 of us (one of which was sitting huddle up on a shared seat).

The docking area was in sight and then the ship, on which some famous person was said to haunt. We boarded The Cruasder and departed from England with a big triumphant cry as we had been waiting around for what seemed like hours.

Land was nowhere to be seen. Not a speak of grass, rock or sand was in sight. The captain said every five minute that it should be visible, but there was not a trace. This was the beginning of the mysterious happenings on the island that we dreaded never to return to again. At last! After being 2 and 1/2 hours late, we finally found ourselves docking at the island of Romantonia just off the coast of Spain. It looked pleasant and comforting but we had nothing to expect. The matter about the time factor was forgotten about for some time and everything was settled.

Night fell upon the island and the dormatory lights were turned off. Jennifer stirred in her bed a final time and was asleep. The three of us were left, all lying with an uneasy feeling. Elizabeth spoke first, after a long silence. She spoke of the quietness of the night and the gentle breeze that crept through the open window. She had a way with words, but my mind was on other things so I only heard the odd whisper.

Suddenly Anne jumped up and spoke out to the three of us in a clear voice, "I've just got to investigate these eery surroundings. Surely there's some explanation to this world? And I intend to find it." It took some persuasion to get us out of our cosy beds just to investigate the night. But we did.

Out into the dark and dangerous night we crept with a ball of string to guide us on our way. We unravelled the ball of string and we walked along. We had left the sleeping, beautiful Jennifer behind. Into the woods we paced and the night got older and then younger as it turned into the early hours of the morning. We had all slipped on some suitable night walking clothes which was something to praise about as the thistles were growing steadily in the wood.

Anne, who was dragging behind, stopped for a moment to take a stone out of her slipper and we carried on as it was to her liking. The wood ended at last and the three of us - but Anne wasn't there. We must have lost her in the wood. We both ran frantically back into the wood. She was gone and so was the string. We picked up the end. It had been cut quite intentionally. Elizabeth and I were stranded in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a cold night.

There was no other alternative. We had to keep on walking before it got us into deeper danger. We did try to call out to Anne, but the sound just echoed on and through the wood and maybe back to the beach of Romantonia. I could hear Elizabeth shivering; her heart pounding endlessly with a sudden long and deep tone. I comforted her and we walked on, but there was something lying ahead of me; a bright light shining from it. It was a metal plate of some superior quality that seemed to whisper as it mingled with the sound of the wind. We lifted in to find ourselves facing a burial tomb. Each mommy clothed in rolls of decaying bandage from head to toe. Elizabeth let out a scream. It was too much for her - the disappearance and now this. She burst into tears on my shoulder and sadly muttered some words of calming and feeling. I managed to shut the plate with a bang! and grabbed the hand of Liz and fled into the open air again.

It was nearly dawn and I knew I just had to get back to camp. I wanted to try and find the best way of getting back but it ended in being the longest. Mr Jones would be wandering where we were and soon sending out a search party. I was uneasy about everything. As I approached the end of a long field, I expected to see some village on the end, but only space lay in front of me. The moon shone down and reflected the light coming form an old barn or what appeared to be. It was the only piece of lodging visible on the vast firmament.

We headed for it, but cautiously so as not to end up in th same position reached by Anne. The building never seemed to get nearer, but our fear soon stopped us from proceeding. Elizabeth removed her slipper from her aching foot and revealed a devastating sight of blisters, cuts and bruises. We then returned to walking. We just had to pace on. It was probably nearly 6 o'clock in the morning and then about 8 o'clock when we finally reached the hut. It was small and dirty outside. I carefully pushed open the door and there on the bed, tied up lay Anne struggling to set herself free. We both untied her and loosened her tense muscles. Out through the door we escaped and then sat in the fresh air for a moment. Out in the distance was a figure. Anne recognised him as the man who had tied her up. At this we sprang up and ran. The man after us. Faster and faster he ran. Faster we ran. There was no escape.

The field drew nearer and the man was gaining on us. He had a weapon in his hand, but was not to be made out. Anne stumbled. Her leg was paining her, but I pulled her up. She had to proceed. Into the woods we ran like galloping horses. We were running for our lives. A thistle caught on Elizabeth's coat and marked it. Our faces were badly hurt. The wood ended and I directed the way which I guessed to be towards the rocky edge. Elizabeth looked behind, but there was no time to stop. I urged her on.

Finally she broke out it saying that there was noone following her, but maybe we had taken a quicker rought and was waiting for us to arrive. I changed course and by now the camp was in full view. I encouraged the two on, and they stumbled on a rock hitting the side of a tree. Up they got through trees and mud and broken down pine trees.

The camp was here. We were safe. It was a nightmare to Anne, but now with a miraculous ending. It was evening turning night, exactly one day since we had left the camp or what seemed like ages. Out ran guides and teachers and everyone. Questions were put upon us one by one. We had nothing to say. Anne was still suffering after the shock and collapsed into a victim's arms.

We traced the wood a final time. It had once been our great destination for an investigation; now it was the end of our ordeal's setting. It was a place to never return to. "

The End.


At least Sister Veronica liked it, and boy was she tough to please.