Here you are dear readers. Yet another attempt at story writing by one of our budding writers - Sohaib Zahir of class O’ Level final year. The story begins with a tense moment, and hence is engaging enough. Inhabitants of Ohio need to stay alert!

Imagine you woke up and found an alien in your neighbor’s backyard. Write a story.

"Dear residents of Ohio state, our safe and beautiful city is under attack from some unknown creatures". Security State Minister, Mr.Paterson, announced with dejection all over his face. This petrifying news sent a shivering layer of fear through the inhabitants of Ohio.

"Wake up! Wake up! “Emily shrieked in my ear. "What's wrong!? For God's sake, let me have an uninterrupted nap" I mumbled elusively.

"Liam! Our country has been ambushed by some aliens, but you are busy relishing your nap" she stuttered in a scared sounding tone.

“Whaaat?” I kicked open my eyes.

Soon, Emily and I were busy packing all necessary stuff like clothes, food items, a warm quilt etc. Emily hurriedly fed Harry and I started my ole battered forerunner which was anxiously waiting for us in the garage to fly us to safety. At first, the gigantic ford was reluctant to start but after trying for innumerable times, eventually, it rumbled into life.

We loaded our ford with all the essential stuff. There screamed Emily "Liam, go pick your armlet up. It will come handy against those dreadful aliens"."Damn! You really are making me confused."

I came out of the truck and slammed the door shut. As I reached the store in the backyard, and was about to pick my moldy armlet rifle, our neighbor, aunt Angeline bawled stridently and I rushed into her kitchen.

There with the ugliest look I had ever come across in my life stood a weird looking creature which was busy examining the kitchen's stuff that he had not seen back at his own place.

He had scary eyes, curly messed up hair all over his sturdy naked body plus he had knife-like sharp teeth which were pointing out of his mouth like pianos keys. His scary muzzle was adorned with anger and thirst for human blood.

"Bang........." The bullet shot out of my rifle pierced through his nude body, hurling him onto the squeaky wooden floor of aunt Angeline's modern kitchen. The boating alien was dead at that very instant.

I huddled the corpulent corpse lying there from my instinctive love for humans and care for humanity. Then I bolted back to my truck where Emily and Harry stood, petrified.

From the emergency radio broadcast, I came to know that a ship will be leaving for Mexico City in a few hours time. A whole of hope shone upon us. Emily motivated me, "Come on Liam, we can make it". I kicked the accelerator hard and the ole forerunner caught pace, though it sounded as if it was crying out of pain and asking me for mercy.

In about an hour, we reached the port. Scared and wounded people from different parts of the state were rushing in. Confused and noisy, everyone was trying hard to climb the safety first. The vulnerable, poor administration was trying its level best to save as many as was humanly possible for them.

I took Harry and Emily. We got into a new yacht of some rich businessman with all necessary accessories stuffed into it but they were at that moment useless for victims since they were in a terrible hurry to get to safety. The yacht was laden with people crying out their hearts for their lost beloveds.

After an hour, the yacht shifted through calm waters, finding its way through murky mist which was hanging in the air with frustration and cruelty laden in it.

Almost the whole city was devastated, for thousands of innocent people were heinously killed. There was chaos all around.

What will happen next? No one knows for sure. Will God be merciful enough and give humans another chance?

Lives of the inhabitants of Ohio are under severe threat. Nevertheless, they seem determined to take the bull by its horns. Will government and all the people around the globe respond to the excruciating cries of our people...?

Written by:

Sohaib Zahir

O' Level Final Year

PakTurk Schools

Islamabad

Sohaib Zahir

Zohair Sardar has shared his reflections on the topic “Mistakes” by illustrating his thoughts with a couple of relevant examples. Well done, boy! Keep up good work.

Mistakes

“Ben! Come here this instance!” shouted mom.

On hearing his mother’s intimidating voice, Ben scrammed to the kitchen.

“What happened mom?” Ben asked in fear and confusion.

 “What is this? Didn’t I tell you to put the cake back into the fridge after you have eaten your share?” shouted mom angrily. She had gone red in the face.

“I’m so sorry mom! It’s just that I was so tired last night that I forgot to put it back.” replied Ben.

“Well, go now. This mistake shouldn’t happen again”, reacted his mother in a milder tone.

Ben is an average teenager who has just began his O levels, but he is not even a small bit serious towards his academic progress. Neither does he concentrate in the class, nor has he ever done his homework on time. He has failed to do justice with his notebooks, which are filled with random doodling and what not.  His hot favourite interests are either to play football, or to have a session of pointless chatting with his friends during and after his lessons. Ben has been repeating all his mistakes to the extent that now they have become a part of his life.

One cold, Monday morning, Ben headed for the school without fulfilling his homework in Science, Mathematics and Geography, most of which was assigned to him on previous Friday. At half past ten, his Maths period started. Everyone submitted their homework, except for Ben. When the teacher asked him to submit the homework, he started making up lame excuses to defend himself. His teacher was well aware of his attitude, so he punished him by demanding to do the assignments thrice.

Not long afterwards, his teacher returned the tests which were taken on the previous Wednesday. As always, Ben had not performed well, mainly because of his non-serious attitude towards studies. In the exam, he had done numerous silly mistakes, which were completely unacceptable for a student at his level.

When he reverted back from school at 3 p.m., he was so tired that he fell asleep the moment he hit his bed. He woke up in the evening and had his supper and evening tea. When Ben started his homework, which was only because he had received punishment from his teacher, he absent-mindedly started using his father’s official note-book, which had important agreements with companies written all over it.

The following day, his father received a call from his boss, asking him to bring the agreements on the following day as he wanted to have a look at the agreements made with other companies. His father skimmed through his bag, but that notebook was nowhere in sight. He searched for the copy in every nook and corner of the house, and as he suspected, he found it in Ben’s bag. He was utterly shocked to find all that mess his pampered child had created on different pages. Infuriated, he shouted out “Hey, you silliest creature! Where are you? Come over here!!” And soon he was showing Ben all those nonsensical doodles he had poured out there. “Do you know I might be kicked out of this job if my boss happens to see what you’ve done here?”

He kept speaking for long, advising him to be careful in future. “Let me now think of a way out…” was the last sentence after which Ben was permitted to move back to his own world.

Keeping Ben’s example in view, it can be said that many small mistakes give rise to big problems, which can cost someone dearly. That is why we should always keep an eye out for things and try to learn from our mistakes.

Written by:

Muhammad Zohair Sardar

O-1 Jinnah

PakTurk Schools, Islamabad

Where would an intelligent boy's imagination end up, you can't say for sure. They truly say: 'Sky is the limit', and here we have an evidence of that.You would relish Ahmed Ali's flight of imagination in this story. Do give this a read if you aspire to give your mind a little stretch. A beautiful short story with lots of APPEAL!

‘It was the same bus I got onto every day, but that day as I sat down I sensed something was different.’

That night too, like every other night for the past two years, I was sitting in front of the computer screen, tapping on the keyboard at a speed of 50 words per minute. But then I sensed I needed more caffeine in my system to go on with the project I was trying to accomplish. I prepared coffee, gulped it down and resumed my work. As the clock chimed 4 a.m, I reached the milestone. Eureka!

“Yeeeessss! Huhu!”, I let out a triumphant squeal, hushing it in the nick of time, not to wake everybody up.

Yes, I am a hacker, an amateur one though. I am just sixteen but already I have decided what I am going to do. Hacking is my passion and I ultimately aim to contribute my expertise to Pakistan’s cyber defense. As they say, World War III will be a war of computers. That night, I pulled down the website of one of USA’s sensitive departments, which I noticed was being used to spy on Pakistan’s web users. This irritated me too much, and I decided I had to teach the bloody Americans a lesson. I was ecstatic when I finally did it.

The next day at school was a boring one; I slept most of the time along with my fellow backbenchers. At last, the bell rang announcing the pack-up time. I sultrily walked to the bus stop. It took unusually long, but it did come in the end. I climbed it and scurried towards the last seat.

It was the same bus I got onto every day, but that day as I sat down I sensed something was different. Firstly, it wasn’t the same, aged driver. This one was bald and dressed in English dress unlike ours. Secondly, I noticed others were not present either. Then an alarm went off in my head. “Men in black! Men in black!” it clanged. There were three of them with black glasses and matching shoes. I remembered that secret-service men dressed like that. At that moment, one of them galloped towards me; he took hold of my neck and made me inhale chloroform from a handkerchief. I fainted immediately. The last thing I remembered was being hurled into a Mercedes.

I returned to the world in an interrogation cell. The strange men around me had sinister looks. I feared the consequences. Then one of them spoke:

“Boy, your life was under threat. You teased the Americans by hacking their sensitive website, and they are after you now.”

I froze hearing those words.

He continued speaking,” But you have done something that we couldn’t, in spite of endeavouring painstakingly. You seem to be very good at this stuff.”

Another man continued, “Therefore, we offer you the position of chief hacker in ISI. I am sure you won’t complain of the salary package. We undertake the responsibility of convincing your parents”, he smiled.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My dream had materialised quite fabulously. My vision had come true in a way I had never expected in my wildest dreams.

So here I am, one year later, working for my country, loving every moment. I have already strengthened Pakistan’s cyber fortresses to the extent that they are unable to be infiltrated by even the toughest of hackers.

Written by:

Ahmed Ali

O’ Level Final year

PakTurk Schools, Islamaba

Let’s enjoy Muhammad Abubakar Mian’s response on a topic ‘Natural Disaster’ – a topic meant for story writing. There are many more worthy of getting posted here. The class was giving the challenge of following the theme of ‘sacrifice’ in their stories. So has this one. A very successful attempt, indeed!

Soothing balm on a weeping heart  .............. (Natural Disaster)

Progress in science and technology has now given seismologists (people who study earthquakes and related phenomena) the power to accurately predict where an earthquake is likely to occur. Unfortunately, they are not yet able to foresee when exactly it will happen. So when my wife, Amelia, and I bought our first house, it was not without knowing the danger of a looming disaster. We purchased a beautifully constructed Victorian style home in a small Californian suburb. Everything about it was perfect, except for the fact that it was in very close proximity to a fault line. “It’s nothing to worry about” we thought… oh how wrong we had been.

The earthquake hit without warning on the 15^th of August, 2004. It was an early Saturday morning and my wife and I had been enjoying breakfast. Suddenly, the house began to tremble with ferocious convulsions. With a burst of adrenaline pumping through my body, I took hold of Amelia’s hand and we made our way outside. I still remember very clearly the frightened look on her face as we huddled together in an open field. The tremors lasted quite a few minutes, and were followed by a false sense of tranquility. I knew there was something terribly wrong. Earthquakes usually only last a few seconds and rarely go past the one-minute mark. It was after the earthquake finally subsided did my neighbors and I realize the grave situation we now found ourselves in. This was a large scale earthquake that spread over a span of 1000 kilometers, according to reports on the radio.

Many would imagine the greatest difficulty coming from the lack of electricity. That was, however, the least of our worries. No one knew about the water shortage until the next day. Sunday evening, Mr. Jefferson, the widower living across the street, came running outside. The noise he was making piqued my interest, and I went out to see what was going on. “There’s no more water! There’s no more water!” Mr. Jefferson shouted. Slowly, as his words started to click in the minds of the people around him, terror began to fill the already heavy atmosphere. Aghast, I quickly ran back inside and locked the door. Behind me, I could already hear the others bolting their doors shut in much the same way. No one was willing to help Mr. Jefferson. Once faced with immense difficulty in such an unfortunate situation, people tend to help no one but themselves. From the window, I could see Mr. Jefferson sitting on the sidewalk. His face was already showing signs of dehydration.  

“Don’t even think about it!” my wife screeched. “We have to help him… he’ll die out there!” I retorted. “..But we can’t afford helping him.” She responded. “And we can’t let him suffer either.” I replied. Upon hearing this, my wife came to her senses and opened the door for me. I walked out onto the porch and signaled Mr. Jefferson inside. “Water…” he gasped. I can’t describe in words how very hugely relieved he felt. The expression on his face that my eyes photographed is still safe in my remote memory. I felt as if I had put a soothing balm on his weeping heart.

Once he was feeling a bit better, we started talking about how he had finished all the running water in his house. After a few minutes of deliberation, we concluded that the water in the neighborhood was disproportionately distributed. Some houses had more water available to them than others. This is when I took the liberty of explaining to him that, from here on out, we all have to be very careful with our water usage.

A radio broadcast later that night told us that the situation would not normalize for at least another four to five days. We were advised to stay inside our homes and to ration all food and water supplies. I had done my part in helping someone out, now if only other people started doing their part. If my neighborhood was any example, our community was suffering from a dire need of Good Samaritans. Without them, we may not be able to survive.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian
O' Levels 2nd Year
PakTurk International Schools & Colleges
Chak Shahzad
Islamabad

A Scenario, a setting I would least expect from a boy of this age with just this much exposure into life. Errors are always likely, here and there; still overall, the story holds powerful description, impressive vocabulary, and an interesting twist given towards the end. (Hey Romail, text given in capital letters is pretty too much. Avoid this in future.)

Once upon a time in Romania…

I was being pulled along --- my hands and wrists fighting the stinging pain caused by the hard, black metal chain shackled around my red, bruised hands. The only thing that was going through my mind was that SHE had betrayed me --- after all we had been through. After all the times we had survived and raided... the 'red soldiers', my mind couldn't accept the fact that it was her, who had betrayed me, Veronica!

"It’s not her... it couldn’t be. She possibly couldn’t do such a thing, not after everything” my mind was bolting to re-assure me.

Half conscious, half struck dumb; I was being dragged along by her, the red soldiers following... HER. From above her cunning and deceiving, yet outrageously beautiful head, I could already get a glimpse of the Northern gates of the horrid lifeless-valley surrounded castle.

 Medieval Romania still looked classy and surreally magnificent even in a time of such great crisis. The Inn was kept a tinge dark so as to avoid any 'unwanted attention', but being in that peaceful dark for such a long time, our retinas had become accustomed to the darker Environment the humble outhouse rendered.

"Will it be anything else, lad?"

"It’ll be enough. Thanks, uncle Victor." placing my empty glass on the bar table, I bid my gratitude to the dear old man owning the bar.

"I hope this 'curse' breaks soon, son. People can’t take more of his rule."

"Well, you have my word; it ought to end soon enough, uncle." I convinced my Uncle. “Veronica says she has a plan.”

"AND THAT IS...?" Uncle's curiosity thickened, but unfortunately, I was as curious about it as him.

“I...  actually don’t know myself” I replied, feeling a little ashamed.

After giving a mocking one-cheek smirk at me, He turned to the figure with black hair sitting next to me." NOW, YOU TAKE CARE OF MY NEPHEW, YOU HEAR?" His attention diverted towards her now.

"I WILL, SIR" Veronica finished her drink at last.

Stepping out of the old, wooden door and emerging into the forest, we felt the sharp blinding beam light on our face.

"AND VERONICA... YOU BE CAREFUL NOW, THE INGREDIENTS YOU TOOK ARE ENOUGH TO TRANQUILIZE A HORSE...!" Uncle waved his hand from behind as we left for our next 'adventure'. " I WILL, SIR. THANK YOU." Veronica replied, aware of the confused look on my face.

We walked along the white dense forest, snow melting under our feet, making sounds resembling the crunching of paper. Trees towered the sky to block our view of the clear Romanian Sky.

"DON'T WORRY, I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOUR LITTLE BOY." Yet another one of Veronica's proud mimic succeeded in mocking me.

It dazzled us both what evil in such a man , who could, in such a short period of time, alter the peace of a Kingdom and leave it in ruins. After the sudden death of the just old King, his evil eldest son Ozgredor, succeeded him. King Ozgredor, now.

The ground rumbled under the hooves, legs and wheels of the patrolling caravan, the  largest the two figures hiding  on the great oak tree above it had ever seen. As sleek as a fox, Veronica easily made the jump and landed perfectly on the roof of one of the carriages.

WHIISHHH. CLICK. BOOOM!

 One by one,  as quick as lightning, the cradle-trained young adult put a bullet through every dazzled 'red soldier', or simply king Ozgredor's private army they were. After the twenty eight second round, the second figure landed, as perfectly as the first had, onto the same carriage.

"THAT'S ONE POINT FOR ME." Veronica declared.

“I GUESS SO. BUT REMEMBER I HAD RAIDED THE LAST TWO CARAVANS" I proved my point.

"OZGREDOR'S FRIGHTENED. LOOK AT HOW MANY SOLDIERS HE SENT WITH THE CARAVAN THIS TIME." Veronica admired her own Handiwork.

"WELL, WE DID MAKE HIM A RUN FOR HIS MONEY" I couldn't help letting out a small laugh.

"BUT, ALL THIS JOB HAS MADE YOU A BIT SLOWER" Veronica teased me.

"HAHAHAA. LET'S GO GIVE THE WEALTH BACK TO THE PEOPLE", I let out, collecting the booty filling the caravan.

Heading back, I thought how Lucky I was to have Veronica by my side. It was so much better now that I didn't have to fight injustice alone. How odd the circumstances under which destiny had let us to meet. Our unbreakable relationship gaining strength with time. Bonding us together was the common inability of us both to bear injustice. All these thoughts were transient through my mind when THUD, the immense pain was unbearable, admiring the strength with which Veronica had hit me on the head, in a few seconds I lay on the cold muddy ground, unconscious.

My head was still hurting from that blow, my gaze was constantly locked upon the deliverer of that blow,  and now, she held in her hands the chains, which were the only obstacle between me killing the red soldiers walking besides me with my bare hands, if necessary. She now walked tall, free and leading the army of the undead to Hell, which I could already get a glimpse of. Upon reaching the Castle, we were let in by the guards at the huge, wooden, 3-layered door.

I was steadied in the middle of a large hall with a huge fire lit on the side, keeping the slightly lit castle safe from the agonizing cold outside.

 "HENSEN VELARIOUS!" growled the King upon  death itself, chained, helpless in front of him.

"YOUR LITTLE 'ADVENTURE' HAS CAUSED MY A FORTUNE." he continued. "GET READY FOR YOUR APPOINTMENT WITH THE GALLOWS, ON THE VERY SIGHT OF THE SUN TOMOROW" the tyrant smirked. "HOW I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS DAY, OHH. he cheered.

I was dragged down a few hundred feet below the castle ground to the  Dungeons, not having the spirit to fight anymore, I let the guards ram me down the old stone stairs and jolt me into my cell. It was dark,  only two hours remained until dawn would break the dark, and my neck. The last few hours of my life, I decided to spend sitting, with my back leaning on one of the old dirty corners of the ancient dungeon, my head playing a flashback of all the happy memories made together with Veronica, whom I still couldn't get the courage to accept as a traitor. But as I was finally about to accept the reality of things,...

THUMPP!

The dungeon door opened suddenly and the light blinded me. Then upon I saw a figure coming towards me. "Was it the boatman? Come to collect my soul?" my mind wondered. But as a few seconds passed, I was able to make out enough  to recognize the familiar features of the beautiful figure standing tall, a meter or so away from me now. "VERONICA" My lips sent out, in a surprisingly soft tone. Before I could say anything else, She cupped her hand onto my lips and unchained me. Leading the way, Veronica ran, as quiet as the calm night sky outside, through the castle halls with me trying to catch up from behind. At the castle stables was a familiar carriage, waiting steady, as were the two beautiful horses it was attached to.

Before climbing up to the seat on top of the huge carriage to my seat besides Veronica, I stopped to look into the carriage window to see none other than Ozgredor. Heavily sedated by Veronica's home-made sedative laden cake, the King lay peacefully at the back of our carriage, unconscious, unaware that a fate worse than the gallows awaited him.

Finally climbing to my seat, I heard the beloved mocking voice of the veronica I knew again. "YOU DIDN'T ACTUALLY THINK I WOULD GIVE YOU UP FOR MERE RICHES, NOW DID YOU?" laughed Veronica with another one of her mocking smirks.

"NEVER EVEN CROSSED MY MIND" I replied, trying to get my humor back. All was alright now. As we rode our steeds out the Castle gates, I could get a glimpse of the Morning Romanian Sun.

"NOW, WHAT ARE WE TO DO WITH HIM?" I diverted her attention to the figure asleep inside the locked carriage.

"HIM?... WE TAKE HIM TO TOWN OFCOURSE.” she replied. LET'S LET THE PEOPLE DECIDE WHAT FATE AWAITS OUR KING."

 A new day was indeed dawning over Romania, our Home.

M. Romail Khan

O' Levels Final Year

PakTurk Inernational Schools & Colleges,

Chak Shahzad

Islamabad