Litmus Year: 2020

Wilted

    by Anika   © Copyright 2020 Anika. All rights reserved.

Genes

by Oscar, Year 11     © Copyright 2020 Oscar. All rights reserved.

Coronavirus World

by Charlie Simpson, Age 13, from Jarrow   © Copyright 2020 Charlie Simpson. All rights reserved.

In Common

In Common The common mistake was not trusting me. The common mistake was branding me the title of a fool. The common mistake was leaving me. I became infatuated, almost insane; I grew weak from separation, the physical attraction towards you became unbearable, my anxiety grew and the discomfort that began to evolve in your eyes strengthened. The emotional attachment to you was unwanted, undeserved and uncontrollable. Our love transformed, it blossomed like a flower in the spring, yet you allowed that flower to form thorns that carried unease and pain. We met as neighbours and soon formed a stable connection, you enforced that the relationship was ‘purely platonic’ but the common misconception that you had was my intentions. Your inability to express your feelings was tiresome, the stubbornness you carried flooded our relationship, it destroyed the love. I had patiently waited for years, ready to seize my moment for when you were ready, but it never happened. Everyday I was cruelly punished by the fools gold in your eyes, tempted by its beauty. You were a facade, keeping your hostility hidden. The demanding lips you presented were misleading. Your hair was a reflection of your false persona, it was intimidating yet arousing. The skin that gripped your bones was unearthly pale, the veins pulsed through the thin layer of tissue that continued to fray over time. The love had exhausted from your body, leaving a vulgar frame of bones. The constant denying and accusations towards me became tedious, the insults were no better either, yet I was still in awe of the vastness of your being. The love I had for you was visceral yet was never reciprocated, this gradually began to affect my rational behaviour. The love inspired me, it was an involuntary state of mind and it led to an addiction. I had fallen into a paradox, I wanted you desperately, I wanted you to want me, I wanted you forever. This cyclical nature of our relationship was frustrating, it allowed me to resort to ruminative thinking. My focus was you and it continued to torment me, but my vision was always transparent. We were the same age, 32, we had the same eye colour, blue, we shared the same taste in music, Heavy metal; we were so alike it was almost fate that bound us together. But the dissimilarities that evolved as a result of your caution and refrain, insulted my intelligence. I was convinced you would remain the most beautiful thing, consume my thoughts, stay with me - but the infatuation was shattered. I was disappointed when the illusion crumbled into reality, I am still. I was in love with the idea of you, the commonalities we shared, how similar we were and the time we spent together. I can’t say you were mine, because the torturous truth is you were never there. And if it's of any consolation to you, you’re the best idea i’ve ever had.
by Grace, Age 17   © Copyright 2020 Grace. All rights reserved.

Cloud Nine

Aaron had lived in Mediocrity all his life- figuratively and literally. Mediocrity acted as a purgatory for people hoping to transcend to Cloud Nine, or an area where you proved you should not be banished to The Ground. People blessed with the opportunity were treated to an induction day before choosing to take The Cloud Nine Pill and ascend. People called it a cylinder of pure euphoria. Aaron himself had been chosen for this Utopia, much to the delight of his family, and had accepted. How could he not? Aaron stepped into the unknown with his lifelong friend, Spencer, jumping out of his skin when the elevator sent them shooting upwards with immense velocity as the norms of Mediocrity were reduced to ants in seconds. Spencer paced gleefully around the glass; his emerald green eyes glistening with exhilaration, matching his radiating blond hair. Meanwhile, Aaron’s wide, mud brown eyes were cast down in horror, his home diminishing beneath his feet. “This is it Aaron.” whispered Spencer, as he tried not to spoil this perceived perfection: “Our new home!” Side by side, Aaron and Spencer followed the smooth artificial voice guiding them to the induction room. Spencer babbled, mostly to himself, about the intricate behemoth spires twisting; stabbing above them, shining, golden, in the glistening light. He marvelled at their similarity to the simple grey ones in Mediocrity, and yet their seeming different, perfect quality. Aaron gasped at the cacophonies of citizens before him: they seemed so similar to himself; yet their faces shone with vivacity and beauty, as if they’d been edited artificially. He was wrenched back to reality when the inductees, huddled like excitable penguins, cheered as they were led through a darkly lit cuboid corridor. Buzzing harmoniously, Aaron and Spencer’s district were led through a maze of corridors, being assured their ‘new life was about to begin’. Gawping, Spencer hopped in glee as a screen projected a two sided image, demonstrating the genius of the fabled Cloud Nine Pill. Spencer had been taught all his life that if he behaved well, he’d be sent to the heaven on Earth, and now here he was, tantalisingly close to fulfilling his dream. His eyes were glued to the right screen with the rest of the inductees, which depicted a joyful child hitting a pinata, giggling as sweets spewed out its colourful head. Concurrently, Aaron gaped, fixated; terrified at the dark mirror on his left, depicting a rat’s spine being splintered sickeningly by salvo-like blows. Aaron stared at the white cylinder in his palm. He couldn’t do it. All the other inductees had practically skipped out of the room after ingesting their joy- Spencer had been the first. As he trembled Aaron realised to himself that all these people had something in common: they’d been conditioned to look to the right by their superiors, and never face the reality of the left. He couldn’t do anything. Sitting, silent, Aaron could merely gaze into his palm, unsure of what to do.
by Alex, Age 16   © Copyright 2020 Alex. All rights reserved.

In Common

‘Luca! The Last. Universal. Common. Ancestor.’ The audience, (a jumbled mix of over-keen undergrads, an assortment of teachers forced into chaperoning the event, and the poor sod from the University Paper who professed to not having the remotest interest in the Arts and Humanities wing of study), were by now hooked on every word. This Professor Guest, or whatever his name was, seemed to reach out and grab these people by their collars with his words. As if this otherwise unobtrusive character was scanning his viewership and collectively embedding LISTEN TO ME – WHAT I’M SAYING’S IMPORTANT into their frontal lobes. And so that’s what they did. ‘Now, I want you all to look at the person next to you,’ the man on stage announced. Though the spectators were unwilling, there was something about the simple command that bypassed their free will and, all at once, a ripple went out through the crowd as they each regarded the individual next to them. Being the 21st century, this crowd had been specially selected to be as varied as possible. A multitude of eyes, some deep and piercing others wide and restful, surveyed a myriad of noses, ears, styles and colours which each in turn repaid their gazes. As they studied the creatures next to them, a reaction was registered – perhaps not consciously but deep down everyone felt something at that moment. Whether it was sympathy, boredom or disgust was down to the onlooker, but the simple sight of seeing a stranger’s face affected them all differently. ‘How are you alike? How are you distinct? These answers are separate for each of you, of course, for you to independently resolve within your own heads. Except, most likely, LUCA. Every single one of you shares this lifeform. We are all descended from it. 3.5 Billion years ago a miniscule, single-celled organism came into being in some remote pond in France. A combination of circumstance and chemistry created a cell membrane, various proteins and, most importantly, a DNA loop. You have LUCA to thank for every micro-organic component within you. No matter who you are, what you believe or how you think, you are all living, breathing people, with LUCA at the bottom of each of your family trees.’ As Professor Guest looked out at his audience, he noticed something strange. For a brief second, uncharacteristic as it may seem, the attitudes of all those present had subtly shifted. The stress of that essay due next week or the teacher’s strike on Friday or even the scary editor who made Terrence Fletcher seem like a cuddly bear had been alleviated for a moment. The fear quickly snapped back, obviously, but Guest silently wondered whether the message of overarching unity he was teaching had a bigger significance than just being a fun fact. Of course, you know it does.
by Dylan, Age 16   © Copyright 2020 Dylan. All rights reserved.