冠亚季军 Overall Winners

（网络投票，票数最高十名选手获此殊荣）

亚   军   Second Prize

季   军   Third Prize

最佳作品奖 Judge’s Choice

（评审团甄选各年级组最优秀作品获此殊荣）

Hero

“Hero!” was the headline of today’s newspaper along with a large photo of me. My family is very proud of me. I just hope nobody finds out the truth.

The story told the tale of how calm and brave I was to save the Raymond Island ferry from crashing into rocks and sinking.

I can clearly recall the vessel as it was crossing over the glistening waves. Everyone was distracted by the stunning views moments before the tragedy struck.

The ferry driver opened a can of soft drink, and it sprayed everywhere on him. He dropped it and it fell right into the steering gear where he couldn’t reach it. This caused the ship to lose control. Luckily, I was able to fit into the steering box and bravely pulled the can out, just in time. The driver managed to take back control of the ferry and steered away from the rocks, barely missing them. I can only imagine what people would say if they knew it was actually all my fault in the first place.

I remember the moment I saw the driver picking up the can from the bench as he walked up into the steering room. I was filled with horror when I suddenly realized that the can of the soft drink actually belonged to him and not my sister.

I just hope nobody finds out that it all almost happened because I shook the wrong person’s drink! I only meant to pull a prank on my sister. I never meant to jeopardise people’s lives.

By Emma Robinson

Year 2

Courage

“Here, Scout!”

Scout looked at me with his huge, brown puppy eyes and wagged his tail. His spotty fur coat gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. Above us, the sun beamed gently and the clouds were scattered lightly across the pale, blue sky. A light breeze caused the viridian leaves of the trees to dance from side to side. Flowers of every colour blossomed in the wild field. Nearby was a creek littered with ducks. It was a truly serene landscape to spend a Saturday evening.

“Fetch, Scout!”

I threw the neon lime-green tennis ball as far as I could, just as I had done many times before. Scout jumped on his hind legs, spun in a complete circle, and bolted after it. It bounced off a tree root and splashed into the creek, making the flock of ducks fly off in fright. Scout bounded into the water and doggy paddled to the ball. He picked it up in his mouth and started to swim back to the shore.

That’s when I saw it.

A pair of beady, black eyes above the surface of the water.

A crocodile.

My blood turned into ice. An overwhelming panic coursed my body, paralysing me from moving. The crocodile slowly advanced upon Scout, not making any noise. It was on the hunt.

“OI!” I cried.

The sound of my voice seemed to return power to my muscles. A bolt of courage surged through me, filling me with a warmth that I had never quite felt before.

“YOU WRETCHED CROCODILE! I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HANDBAG!”

I dived into the water and started to swim towards Scout. My eyes never left the crocodile. I remembered my teacher telling me once that crocodiles were silent hunters. They depended mostly on the element of surprise. They were likely to flee if they were spotted. I made a conscious effort to splash as much as possible as I swam frantically towards Scout.

The crocodile continued to advance. It was about three meters away. It was closer to Scout than I was. I continued swimming, my lungs burning.

As the crocodile opened its jaws, I swung my open hand in its face and managed to jab its eye with my fingertips. It gave a loud hiss and turned around. I watched it as it swam away and disappeared under the water.

I grabbed Scout under my arm and swam with him to shore. I collapsed on the ground as soon as my feet touched the dry land. My muscles and lungs felt like they were on fire. I had never quite swum that hard or fast before. I turned to Scout, who was panting just as hard as I was.

“Lucky us, eh?”

This is an exceptional piece of writing! You created a compelling narrative and used numerous literary devices in sophisticated ways. It was also very clear with good spelling and grammar. I enjoyed reading this very much.

Well done!

By Aileen Zhang

Year 3

Encourage

 “Trick or treat!”

As the leader of the ‘Halloween candy gang’, my yell echoed through the street. The Harry Potter cloak floated around my feet like a pitch-black curtain, dancing along with the soft breeze. Laughing and giggling, my friends picked up their pace to catch up with me.

We stopped in front of a mansion and the spooky scene struck us: snowy ‘bones’ scattered across the lawn; hairy ‘spiders’ clustering on the ‘cobweb’; broken ‘arms’ leaping out of ‘graves’ as if they were going to seize us instantly; and a ‘zombie’ slowly turning its head while making a gentle cracking sound. “Woah.” Awed by the amazingly looking decorations, I felt excited to enter.

However, one of my friends declared, “There’s no way that I’m going in there! Let’s skip this house.”  Other friends in my ‘candy gang’ nodded.

“I’m going,” I said in a determined tone. “Isn’t this the joy of Halloween?”

As my elbow brushed the ‘zombie’, it cackled hysterically. Even though I was startled, I kept going. Soon, I reached my candy pot and brought lollies for all my friends to share. Everyone was amazed that I came out without my eyes as wide as saucers, shaking from head to toe. I was proud, but suddenly, a flashback appeared in my mind.

I first came to Australia, a totally unfamiliar country, three years ago. In an environment that speaks a different language, I was scared to socialise and afraid of others judging me. One afternoon, when I was walking back home, kids dressed in a variety of Halloween costumes were already rushing out of their houses. Attracted by their excitement and laughter, I was eager to join them. But my courage failed me! Overwhelmed with regret, I heard a soft and warm voice. “Hello! Want some?”

I raised my head. A lady came up to me with a friendly smile. She was standing in front of her house and holding a bag of lollies. After asking for my name, she looked back to a girl behind her, “Elsie! Come here and meet Rebecca.” The young girl with brown hair and blue eyes waved enthusiastically at me.

She came to hold my hand and greeted me. “Hello, I am Elsie. Let’s go trick or treating together and meet my friends.” Her warm greeting and kindness encouraged me. I was not shy and ran after her. This was the day I made my first friend in Australia, which triggered my courage and changed my life.

Encouragement is precious and magical. In the past three years, I have often felt its power. It is mum’s hug when I staggered down from the steep ski trail. It is the audience’s applause when I first attended a piano concert. It is the teacher’s supportive comment when I first presented a public speech… Every time I move on, I always recall that magical afternoon.

“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!”

By Rebecca Zhang

Year 3

How Modern Media Reflects Our Complex Ideas of Justice

Justice is a complex concept that not everyone has the same grasp on. It could be a brave action that has a significant effect on humanity, or it could be a random act of kindness done for a slight change. Since justice is such a broad topic open for all kinds of interpretation, there are many different perspectives on justice reflected through pieces of modern media. These interpretations can be found in action films, animations, and written fiction made in modern times. Three main types of justice explored in media will be discussed in this text: a black-and-white theory of good and evil, conflict from clashing motives, and power in the majority. This essay will also discuss the three types of justice used in media in relation to how they suggest we rationalise our experiences, as well as how we understand our own morality.

One of the most common yet cliché tropes is the perfect hero and the shallow villain. The reason for the birth of this idea of justice could be to rationalize our fears of war and man-made destruction. This is the reason films such as Godzilla were created after World War II. In these works of fiction, the protagonist always defeats the antagonist, and humanity is saved. But this often feels unrealistic and detached from the real world because the creators often fail to address the double-sidedness of justice. In fact, many things get destroyed in these epic fights like buildings, vehicles, and homes, causing casualties. The heroes have no backstories, and the intentions of the villain are unexplained. Although this is often seen as a bad example of justice being represented in media, it acts as an interesting lens into how humanity’s deepest fears and issues are manifested into something fantastical.

On the other hand, the conflict itself can be the result of clashing ideas of justice. Instead of creating a plot based on good versus evil, it shows that protagonists can be flawed, and villains can be misunderstood. For example, the popular animated series, Demon Slayer, has very well-written villains with their own backstories that show the reasoning behind their motives. Understanding the justification behind their actions make the viewers empathize with them, even rooting for them. An example of these villains is a young boy called Rui, who has been lacking love ever since he was a child. This leads to him killing his family and forcing others to form a bond with him, even if it was fake. This type of media is created to show the fact that every living being is as complex as another, with nuanced experiences and values.

In addition, the cartoon My Little Pony, shows justice in unification and solidarity through defending the morals of the group as an extension of yourself. The way they show this is through the ‘power of friendship’. The power of friendship referenced in this series is about making friends even with those whom you may not see eye-to-eye with and so being inclusive of everyone. In this series, the type of justice shown is not a specific brave gesture or a noble sacrifice, but rather a hand lent to the opposition, giving them a chance to change their ways and unite with everyone else.

In conclusion, throughout many decades, the theme of justice has constantly evolved in the form of media. These may be a product of their time and social context, or the goal towards understanding human emotions and experiences. One way or another, these provide valuable insights into how we reflect on ourselves, others, as well as society as a whole. The different types of justice shown in media are a good way of explaining the meaning behind justice itself.

By Tong Guan

Year5

Justice

It happened so quickly, the departure, the goodbyes, and the move. My family and I had left Morocco, hoping to find a better life in America. Back home, I had the greatest friends at Temara Primary School. We would often go and have playdates and make cherished memories, so it was hard for me to leave knowing I would have to leave them behind. However, that’s not to say that life there was the best. Walking through the streets of Morocco, I would see many hungry children lying around, desperate for a home to stay in. Many struggled to get by, and it was tough living there.

However, miraculously, one day, my dad got a new job in America. We were able to leave our home behind and start a new life away from the poverty in Morocco. Arriving in America, I experienced a culture shock. It was so different to what I thought it would be. Upon exiting the airport of San Francisco, the smell of crisp, clean air filled my lungs. I encountered many different people, all of them were dressed well. From my vision, I could see a sunset over the city, the clouds were pale pink, and the sky was blood red with a hint of purple. I felt excited to start a new chapter!

It had been a few days since we had moved to America. We were staying in a small apartment, with a nice balcony overlooking the city and where we were slowly adjusting to this new life. This morning my alarm went off, and I excitedly rolled out of bed, ready to start my first day of school. I took the bus there, happily walking through the school gate, ready to make new friends.

As the bell rang for the first period, I looked at my schedule and headed to room 201 for maths. I arrived and sat down in a random seat, pulling out my maths book. I looked around and noticed that all the students looked the same, most of them had light-brown or blonde hair with blue eyes and fair skin. They were nothing like me. Where were my people? Suddenly, someone came up to me and shouted, “Get off my seat, newbie!” I looked at the desk and realised it had a name tag; it said, “Tiffany”. I panicked and spluttered out words, “I-I’m s-s-sorry, I d-didn’t know it w-was your s-seat.” Tiffany didn’t even hesitate at all and physically pushed me off her seat, as all her friends busted out laughing. Flustered, I picked myself up and ran out of the room.

I ran into a professor, with long light brown hair, with the usual blue eyes. She asked me what was wrong, but I was too scared to tell her. Annoyed, she demanded I go back to class, so I hesitantly returned. Tiffany glared at me; I looked away and sank into my seat.

After a while, the bell rang for recess. I went to my locker and got my classic Moroccan chicken and rice and sat outside. As I began eating, Tiffany and the other girls walked up to me, “Hi loser, sitting all by yourself? Not a surprise!” she laughed at me. “Eww, what kind of food are you eating, why is it yellow? That looks disgusting!” Her friend chimed in. I was getting frustrated, “Leave me alone! What do you want from me?” She glared at me and retaliated, “Maybe if you go back to where you belong, you wouldn’t be put down! You ‘black-skinned’ people don’t belong in this prestigious school. Go back to Africa!” I walked away locking in my anger and holding back my tears. She pulled my hair and attacked me with a solid punch in my face. With blood coming out of my nose, I ran as fast as I could.

Once school had ended, I got back on the bus to go home. Mum was at a doctor’s appointment and dad was working late today, so I dropped my bag on the floor and went to my bedroom. I thought to myself, maybe Tiffany was right, what if I didn’t belong in America? After all, I wasn’t American… I lay down on my bed and cried.

As school went on, Tiffany and her friends continued to bully me every day, making comments about my skin, my food, and my cultural differences. Every day, I came back home crying, wishing I could go back to Morocco, where I belonged. Repeatedly, I would get bullied physically and emotionally and I felt hopeless and worthless. That was all until I decided I wanted to tell the whole world my story and raise awareness of racism. I typed my story and posted it on the internet,  hoping that somebody would notice.

Unfortunately, the next day was no different. I went to school, got bullied and went home. This never-ending cycle continued, until one day, I checked my social media, only to realise I had 40k+ notifications. I screamed as I looked at my post, it had ten thousand likes with many comments supporting me. I couldn’t believe that there were so many people in the world going through the same experiences as me! For the first time in forever, I didn’t feel alone. That’s when I realised my whole life was about to change.

Ten years later, I graduated with exceptional marks and moved to a different city. I had briefly heard that a few years back, Tiffany and her friends were severely punished for what they did to me. I decided to visit the school, to see how much it had changed since I was there. What I saw made me cry with joy. Students from all over the world were happily getting along. The once “Caucasian-only” school had transformed into a multicultural harmonious school, and I was so proud that my story had contributed to this change. I fought hard for justice and finally succeeded.

By Valarie Lee

Year 5

Magnolia

Spring 2005

Outside, the newly bloomed magnolia flowers fluttered in the gentle breeze. The flowers Maggie had been named after. They were stunning, with their graceful star shapes, and their subtle shades of pink. She hated them. How could the world create something so beautiful, when her entire world was falling apart?

Muffled screams. Smashing plates. She leaned back against the door, tears spilling down her face. As she tried to cover her ears and block out the relentless shouting, she couldn’t help but ask herself, why? Why do they always fight like this? Why are they never happy? Why can’t I just have a normal family?

Suddenly, their voices became hushed. Pressing her ear against the door, Maggie tried to make out what they were saying.

“I want a divorce.”

No. This couldn’t happen. She wanted them to stop fighting, but she never wanted this. We will always protect you. We will never leave you, they had once promised her. How had they betrayed those words so easily?

Maggie’s mum entered the room, her face hard and serious.

“Maggie, I have something to tell you.”

“I know what it is.”

Her face softened and she pulled Maggie into a hug.

“I’m sorry, baby. I have to. It’s too hard for me. I’m so sorry.”

I will never forgive her for this. Maggie thought. No matter what, I will give my child a better life than this. I will give her a happy family.

That was the vow she had made to herself that day.

Over the years, she and her mother lived in the way any broken family would. They struggled to make ends meet, though they managed. At first, Maggie’s father would send her gifts and visit her. Those visits became less and less frequent, and soon, he had completely drifted away, just as much a part of her life as any stranger.

Time trickled on, and by 20, Maggie was ready to fly out of the nest her mother provided. She pulled her life together, made new friends, met a guy. They talked, they laughed, and they loved. For the first time in a while, Maggie was truly happy.

Spring 2020

“Unemployment rates are increasing rapidly due to COVID-19, rising by two percent in just four months…”

Maggie turned off the TV. She was sick of it. Not because she had to wear a mask all day, not because of social distancing and the chaos of the pandemic. Not even because her husband had lost his job three months ago. She was sick of the fact that he had gone into rehabilitation countless times by now to no avail. She was sick of constantly finding hidden bottles of beer in his pockets and drawers. She had been by his side and supported him for 10 years. Now, it was finally at the point where she was just so incredibly exhausted and miserable all the time.

With the husband and wife confined within their small apartment due to the lockdown, there was more hostility and distance between the two than ever before. Any form of conversation would escalate into a fight. And Mia, their five-year-old daughter, was there to witness it all. Day after day, their relationship soured. Day after day, she convinced herself to stay.

I won’t divorce him. I won’t make my daughter go through what I did. It will get better. Everything will get better.

Those were the words Mia repeated to herself, again and again.

It didn’t get better.

One night, the clock read 8pm and Maggie’s husband was nowhere to be seen.

“Mummy, where is daddy?” Mia asked from her bedroom doorway, a concerned expression on her innocent face.

“I don’t know, baby. Go to sleep.”

Her little feet padded up the stairs.

After around 30 minutes, the front door clicked. In he came, his eyes a glazed expression, his entire body swaying.

In the time of a heartbeat, he leaned over, picked a mug up from the coffee table and violently flung it across the room. It crashed against the wall, leaving coffee stains dripping like blood and broken pieces of porcelain on the floor.

A sob broke out from the direction of the stairs. Maggie turned around to see her daughter still standing there, and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Mia had heard the entire thing. Her mind flashed back to that day her parents divorced. The vow she made. The empty promises of having a happy family. Then, she thought of the countless times her husband had caused her and her daughter pain and despair.

Outside the window, the magnolia flowers had just started to bloom. For the first time in her life, she appreciated and understood the true beauty in them. She finally realised why, that day of her parents’ fight, her mum did what she had to do.

Magnolia flowers will inevitably fall off their tree. But before long, they will always be in bloom again. A fresh bud, a new beginning.

All this time, Maggie believed that her parents had betrayed her. That she had betrayed herself by following in their footsteps. Indeed, she had. But she also forgave herself. She respected herself. She packed her bags, took Mia, and left.

By May You

Year 9

最佳人气奖 People’s Choice

（网络投票，各年级组票数最高者获此殊荣）

入围奖 Short-listed Writers

（本次大赛33位入围选手获此殊荣）