Short Story - School Bake-Off - Part Two

Monday 12^th January 2015

Break time

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe it. All my hard work was for nothing. I put my cake in the food technology room this morning and I just came to check on it but it’s gone. I’ve asked all the teachers, students and even the caretaker if they’ve seen it. It’s not anywhere to be found and the competition is just over an hour away. If it doesn’t turn up now I’ll have nothing to present and Amber will definitely win.

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary,

Roxanne had the brilliant idea of hiding Beth’s cake! We put it in my locker so she couldn’t find it and now there is literally no competition.

All the love in the world … Amber! xxxx

Home time

Dear Diary,

I won! I can’t believe it! Skye ended up accidentally saving the day. She went into Amber’s locker to get something and found my cake in there. Roxanne had obviously forgotten to include her in

their little plan and so Skye started showing everyone “Amber’s amazing cake”! I heard the commotion and went to have a look. That’s when I saw my stack of magazines being paraded around under Amber’s name. I plucked up courage and shouted as loud as I could, “But that’s my cake!” Everyone went silent and turned round to look. I snatched the cake out of Skye’s hands just as Amber started walking over with her actual cake. The look on her face was priceless as she realised she’d been found out. When we presented our cakes at lunchtime, there was no judging needed since Amber had broken the rules twice, by stealing my cake and buying all of hers; she was disqualified.

All in all a pretty good day and I even have some friends to celebrate with, now that people have started to notice me.

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary,

Gutted. That’s the only word to describe my feelings now.

All the love in the world (not that I have any love to give) … Amber xxxx

Short Story - School Bake-Off - Part One

^{Monday 5th January 2015}

Dear Diary,

There’s a competition at school to bake a cake and Susan, a girl in my form, says I should enter. I don’t even really like Susan but it’s not as if I’ve got people clamouring to be my best friend so you’ve just got to take what you can get. I’m not sure about doing it so, I’ll tell you tomorrow what I decide once I’ve spoken to my mum about it.

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary, (you’re the best!)

You’ll never guess. There’s going to be this amazing competition at school to bake the biggest and best cake you’ve ever seen. Skye and Roxanne both say I should go for it. It’s not as if I needed any persuading; as soon as I heard, I started planning my design. Sprinkles, pink glitter and edible shoes!

All the love in the world … Amber! xxxx

Thursday 8^th January 2015

Dear Diary,

My mum says I should join in the bake off and it would be a good experience to put on my sixth form application so I will give it a go. It will take a lot of planning and experimentation, but I will get the perfect cake in the end. Better stop writing so I have time to draw a life size sketch before I get the ingredients.

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary,

I’m round at Skye’s house painting my nails, practising my steady hand for when I need to place each sprinkle on my cake. Not that I’m worried though, there’s no way I’ll have any competition – the only other person entering is that scrawny girl from the year below. Beth is it? So nothing to worry about there.

Got to go now, about to paint the other hand.

All the love in the world … Amber! xxxx

Friday 9^th January 2015

Dear Diary,

Finally! I’ve finished drafting the plan for my cake, it took nine different designs before I got the perfect one, but I’m sure mine will be the best looking there. I’m going out shopping tomorrow for ingredients so I can start experimenting with possible flavours.

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary,

I’ve had an idea! My cake is going to be themed. It will be based on shopping and I’ll create shoes, make-up and clothes out of icing to put all over it. I’m focusing on the appearance rather than the taste because the main thing about cakes is how they look. No one really cares what they taste like in the end. I couldn’t believe that such a great idea had come out of my head, so I rang up Skye and she said to definitely go ahead and do it. So on Sunday, I’m going to buy ready-made cakes, stack five on top of each other and then decorate them, ready for Monday.

All the love in the world … Amber! xxxx

Sunday 11^th January 2015

Dear Diary,

My cake is all done! It looks like a stack of magazines with each issue having a different flavour. There are six in total – chocolate fudge, vanilla ice-cream, lemon sherbet, strawberry cheesecake, black forest gateau and marshmallow surprise. On Monday we have to take in our cakes for judging. The winners will be announced in afternoon assembly. I can’t wait!

Best wishes,

Beth

To my diary,

I have finally finished making the best-looking cake I’ve ever seen! As I said before, there’s five layers, loads of sprinkles and of course, the clothes, shoes and make-up all made out of icing. Now all I have to do is wait until Mrs Ericson stops droning on in assembly so they can give me my prize. There is no doubt in my mind that I will win so, as someone once said, “I’ll see you on the other side!”

All the love in the world … Amber! xxxx

Come back next week to read what happens to Beth and Amber ...

An Inner Monologue

Surely they are going to come back for me? Someone will realise I’m not there and send out a search party. They cannot just leave me here; I can feel my body prickling and numbing already. The air has fangs of steel, it cuts my skin and leaves deep wounds, and yet when I look, there is nothing there. In fact, I cannot see anything at all. It is as if the world’s light has gone out and the only things left are the stars and I. Turning my head to the left, I spot Orion. It has always been my favourite constellation, but currently brings me no comfort. My teeth are starting to chatter, but not just with cold. I suppose it is a human instinct to fear the unknown, however it is rather unhelpful at present, I must say.

Oh dear, I have just remembered my cufflinks. I hope I haven’t ruined them, or worse, lost them, for they are a family heirloom. Father would be devastated if he found out, and I am pretty frustrated too as I was planning to wear them when I arrived in New York. I certainly won’t be able to now. Jocasta always said they went with my blue eyes wonderfully, but I never understood why I would want to match my clothes with my eyes. What am I thinking? It does not matter if my cufflinks are lost; I assume I only have about five minutes left. When will they come back to find me?

I wish I had worn my thick coat, for my clothes are sticking to my body. Although, that would make it worse, as a heavy coat is an encumbrance and would weigh me down. I am lost for ideas as to what I can do, so I resort to what any man does in this situation. I shout for help. At first, I clearly do not cry loud enough, as even I cannot hear it. Yet, after another few attempts, I realise my voice has gone altogether, and no matter how loud I bellow, there will never be any sound. My heart is pounding in its cage now, desperately trying to keep my blood flowing, but it is no use. My greatest weapon has been taken. I have no shield either.  Nevertheless, I will not surrender until my time is up. I have four minutes left.

I need to come up with some way of getting out of here. My mind races through all the books I read as a child and images from ‘Swallows and Amazons’ flicker across my eyes. I need some way of pulling myself up … My eyes fall upon a star, I reach out to grab it and try to hang on, but it slips out of my hand and splashes in front of me. I fall backwards and a blinding light flashes in front of my eyes, followed by images of a tall, slim man, the railings on a cruise ship and then the man falling. They are shown repeatedly until my head begins to pulsate with the pressure and my body shudders violently. I do not know what to do, so I simply let the pictures take over my body, encompass me and push me down, down, down.

The images ripple into a new scene of what appears to be a swimming pool. This time I am in control, and my view shifts as I move my head, revealing my fellow cadets from boarding school. We are practising how to tread water, which I usually find easy, but when I try to kick my legs and circle my arms, I am pushed down by an invisible force. My lungs start to burst under the pressure and I try to call out for help, but my mouth will not open. I begin to cry, at first a few tears, but soon large, salty droplets streak my face and my whole body shakes. I blink furiously to make sure no one can see me, but my eyes happen to focus on the clock on the wall. It reads one minute.

My body jolts back to reality, sending waves emanating outwards as I gasp for air. I realise I was not in a swimming pool at all, but I am stranded in the ocean, and that man I saw on the cruise ship was me. I kick my legs out and thrash with my arms, frantically trying to stay afloat … Wait! I hear something. Is that? No, it can’t be. I must be imagining things. That is highly unlikely. I think I can hear human voices. I can! I am saved; I do not have to drow …