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LIFE, DEATH AND DETENTIONLife, Death and Detention is a collection of compelling stories about life in high school. Being a teenager can be fraught with difficulties. Not only do you have to deal with dysfunctional families at home, but with the weirdos at school as well. Sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes disturbing—that's what life is like for the modern teenager.
Praise for LIFE, DEATH AND DETENTION “…what stories they are! They are bound to shock the reader, or bring cause for reflection, or leave him or her uncomfortable. They are stories to make their young readers think, to learn and to grow.” Reading Time “Dramatic, emphatic and explosive – the only words available to describe this collection of short stories. George Ivanoff not only has the insight to get into the heads of teenagers and know their every move and thought, but his writing style is short, clear and penetrating” BevsBookBlog By the author of: Gamers' Quest (2010 CHRONOS AWARD WINNER) and Gamers' Challenge (2012 CHRONOS AWARDS SHORTLIST) Retail: Buy from this page, your local bookshop or buy at your favourite online bookstore. If it is not in stock, ask them to order it through John Reed Books, or buy from your favourite online store. WHOLESALE: For sale or return: Morris Publishing Australia: Orders Page. Also available from: For sale or return: Australian Books Distributors: Australian Books Distributors - Home (ausbooksdist.org) Ingram Content: https://www.ingramcontent.com/retailers/ordering Peter Pal Library Supplier: http://www.peterpal.com.au James Bennett Library supplies: http://www.bennett.com.au |
Life, Death and Detention
First 5 pages of the book
Kevin felt the sting of the rubber band as it hit his ear. He tried to ignore it, and focused on the essay he was
writing.
A spit-ball hit him in the back of the neck. He wiped it off and continued to write.
There was a loud clatter as a compass landed on the desk next to him, the point digging into the plastic.
Mr Norton looked up from his work, stared disapprovingly at Kevin, and then returned to marking the tests. Kevin looked over his shoulder to see Fletch seated two desks behind him, an evil grin on his face. He turned back
to his essay and another spit-ball hit him in the back of the head.
Mr Norton’s mobile phone started playing a daggy old pop song. He snatched it up and flipped it open, holding it up to his ear.
‘Yes.’He nodded, his face turning grave. ‘I’ll be right there.’
He snapped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.
‘Bit of an emergency,’ he said, addressing the two boys. ‘I’ll be back as quickly as I can. When I return, I expect you to have finished those essays.’
‘Yeah, well, I mightn’t finish mine,’ said Fletch. ‘I’m having trouble concentrating.’
‘Then you can have another detention tomorrow, Mr Fletcher,’ the teacher said, walking towards the door. ‘Maybe then you will be able to concentrate.’
As Mr Norton left, Kevin looked up at the clock above the whiteboard. Five minutes to four. He was trapped in this classroom with Gordon Fletcher until quarter past four. It was bad enough that he had been given detention on this particular day, but to have Fletch in there with him, and have Mr Norton leave them alone, made it worse. More than ever, he was now certain that the world was conspiring against him.
He heard a rubber band whiz past his ear and the sound of a chair being pushed back. Kevin felt a wave a fear sweep over him. He kept his head down and tried to continue writing. All he had to do was survive this one detention and then all his problems would be over.
His whole body tensed as he heard the slow deliberate footsteps on the old wooden floorboards. Fletch’s familiar game of torment was about to ramp up. The footsteps started behind him, continued to his right, and then
stopped.
‘We’re pretty high up, aren’t we?’
Kevin looked up. Fletch was standing by the windows staring out at the school grounds.
‘So why are you here, wimp?’ he said, leaning back on the windowsill and turning to face Kevin.
‘I was late for class.’
Fletch laughed. ‘I hit Johnston and he went running to the teacher.’ With a sudden, savage movement, he punched at the air in front of him. ‘Next time I’ll smash his face in.’
Kevin looked closely at Fletch. He was a relatively short boy, certainly no taller than himself, but thick-set and mean-looking. He was the sort of kid who would happily kick a stray cat or throw stones at a fenced-in
dog.
‘What are ya staring at?’
‘Nothing!’Kevin returned his attention to what he had been writing.
Then he heard a window open.
‘Three stories up. That’d be a helluva fall.’
And again, the footsteps started. Kevin kept his head down, desperately staring at this work. He could feel his insides constrict with fear as the footsteps came towards him.
They stopped right in front of his desk. Before he even had a chance to look up, Fletch had grabbed his exercise book. He continued to walk around the classroom, just like Mr Norton, as he read the essay.
‘This is pretty good,’ he said, sitting up on the edge of Mr Norton’s desk. ‘I think you should write mine.’
‘What?’
‘Are you stupid or something?’ growled Fletch as he jumped down and sauntered over to Kevin. ‘You’re going to write my essay.’
‘But I haven’t even finished mine.’
Fletch made a sudden violent movement with his arm, and Kevin ducked, thinking he was about to get hit. Fletch laughed as Kevin’s exercise book went sailing through the air and out the open window.
‘Oh well, I guess you’ll have to start again.’ Kevin could hear the menace in his voice, taunting him—always taunting him.
He looked up at the clock. It was only two minutes past four.
‘Worried about the time, huh?’ Fletch pushed his face up close to Kevin. ‘We’ve got lots of time yet. Time to have a little game of …’ He paused for effect, ‘… keepings off.’
Fletch darted to the side of Kevin’s desk and grabbed his school bag.
‘That’s mine!’ Kevin jumped up, panic seizing him. He tried to retrieve his bag but was quickly pushed back into his seat.
‘Careful now,’ said Fletch as he crossed the room to the window, ‘if ya make me nervous I might drop it.’
‘No!’shouted Kevin, an obvious quaver of fear in his voice. Then he lowered his tone trying to mask the alarm. ‘Please, don’t.’
‘Well, well, well … I wonder what’s so important about the bag.’ He smiled that familiar smile which said, I’ve got you right where I want you. ‘Maybe I should have a look and find out.’
Kevin began to sweat as he watched Fletch slowly unzip the bag. Tiny drops of perspiration made their way down the side of his face as his fear mounted. He couldn’t let him find it.
First 5 pages of the book
Kevin felt the sting of the rubber band as it hit his ear. He tried to ignore it, and focused on the essay he was
writing.
A spit-ball hit him in the back of the neck. He wiped it off and continued to write.
There was a loud clatter as a compass landed on the desk next to him, the point digging into the plastic.
Mr Norton looked up from his work, stared disapprovingly at Kevin, and then returned to marking the tests. Kevin looked over his shoulder to see Fletch seated two desks behind him, an evil grin on his face. He turned back
to his essay and another spit-ball hit him in the back of the head.
Mr Norton’s mobile phone started playing a daggy old pop song. He snatched it up and flipped it open, holding it up to his ear.
‘Yes.’He nodded, his face turning grave. ‘I’ll be right there.’
He snapped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.
‘Bit of an emergency,’ he said, addressing the two boys. ‘I’ll be back as quickly as I can. When I return, I expect you to have finished those essays.’
‘Yeah, well, I mightn’t finish mine,’ said Fletch. ‘I’m having trouble concentrating.’
‘Then you can have another detention tomorrow, Mr Fletcher,’ the teacher said, walking towards the door. ‘Maybe then you will be able to concentrate.’
As Mr Norton left, Kevin looked up at the clock above the whiteboard. Five minutes to four. He was trapped in this classroom with Gordon Fletcher until quarter past four. It was bad enough that he had been given detention on this particular day, but to have Fletch in there with him, and have Mr Norton leave them alone, made it worse. More than ever, he was now certain that the world was conspiring against him.
He heard a rubber band whiz past his ear and the sound of a chair being pushed back. Kevin felt a wave a fear sweep over him. He kept his head down and tried to continue writing. All he had to do was survive this one detention and then all his problems would be over.
His whole body tensed as he heard the slow deliberate footsteps on the old wooden floorboards. Fletch’s familiar game of torment was about to ramp up. The footsteps started behind him, continued to his right, and then
stopped.
‘We’re pretty high up, aren’t we?’
Kevin looked up. Fletch was standing by the windows staring out at the school grounds.
‘So why are you here, wimp?’ he said, leaning back on the windowsill and turning to face Kevin.
‘I was late for class.’
Fletch laughed. ‘I hit Johnston and he went running to the teacher.’ With a sudden, savage movement, he punched at the air in front of him. ‘Next time I’ll smash his face in.’
Kevin looked closely at Fletch. He was a relatively short boy, certainly no taller than himself, but thick-set and mean-looking. He was the sort of kid who would happily kick a stray cat or throw stones at a fenced-in
dog.
‘What are ya staring at?’
‘Nothing!’Kevin returned his attention to what he had been writing.
Then he heard a window open.
‘Three stories up. That’d be a helluva fall.’
And again, the footsteps started. Kevin kept his head down, desperately staring at this work. He could feel his insides constrict with fear as the footsteps came towards him.
They stopped right in front of his desk. Before he even had a chance to look up, Fletch had grabbed his exercise book. He continued to walk around the classroom, just like Mr Norton, as he read the essay.
‘This is pretty good,’ he said, sitting up on the edge of Mr Norton’s desk. ‘I think you should write mine.’
‘What?’
‘Are you stupid or something?’ growled Fletch as he jumped down and sauntered over to Kevin. ‘You’re going to write my essay.’
‘But I haven’t even finished mine.’
Fletch made a sudden violent movement with his arm, and Kevin ducked, thinking he was about to get hit. Fletch laughed as Kevin’s exercise book went sailing through the air and out the open window.
‘Oh well, I guess you’ll have to start again.’ Kevin could hear the menace in his voice, taunting him—always taunting him.
He looked up at the clock. It was only two minutes past four.
‘Worried about the time, huh?’ Fletch pushed his face up close to Kevin. ‘We’ve got lots of time yet. Time to have a little game of …’ He paused for effect, ‘… keepings off.’
Fletch darted to the side of Kevin’s desk and grabbed his school bag.
‘That’s mine!’ Kevin jumped up, panic seizing him. He tried to retrieve his bag but was quickly pushed back into his seat.
‘Careful now,’ said Fletch as he crossed the room to the window, ‘if ya make me nervous I might drop it.’
‘No!’shouted Kevin, an obvious quaver of fear in his voice. Then he lowered his tone trying to mask the alarm. ‘Please, don’t.’
‘Well, well, well … I wonder what’s so important about the bag.’ He smiled that familiar smile which said, I’ve got you right where I want you. ‘Maybe I should have a look and find out.’
Kevin began to sweat as he watched Fletch slowly unzip the bag. Tiny drops of perspiration made their way down the side of his face as his fear mounted. He couldn’t let him find it.