Блог учителя англійської мови Скорнякової М.Є.

WE WRITE: Valeria Makeyonok, 10b


The Fifth
Written by Valeria Makeyonok, 10b

The colony was noisy and crowded. There were cells, filled with cockroaches and rats, walls which had long been for youngsters like native home. Some of them had never even seen their  homes. There was weeny life under their belts. 

Lieutenant Lavrov was smoking in the courtyard, leaning against the wall that connected the piece of the roof and the floor. His gaze was sliding over faces of young offenders. He had been working here just for a week, and everything seemed so new and frightening. His mother always said that he could have become a good doctor, and now, remembering her words, he was afraid that he had made the wrong choice. 

 

Bitter smoke filled lungs and steady mist drifted before his eyes. Lavrov was looking at the boy, aged 13, who tried to nail a wooden plank to the next one, while the others were playing cards, and with loud laughter were discussing something. 

-Lieutenant, are you resting? - captain Lepnitskiy smoking a cigarette joined  Lavrov.

Lavrov exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on that small boy. 

- They are just kids, with hesitation said Lavrov. He was still worried about  the question, how such boys could fall into the place like that. 

- They’re not kids,  the captain replied slowly, -kids are just a shell, each of them is not the same they used to be. Do you see that one in ragged  pants and with a scar on his face? At the age of 15 he killed his sister with a knife, and that red-haired one set fire to his cat alive. All of them have seen such life, that you couldn’t even dare to peep. They are not familiar with the feelings of “pity”, “compassion”, “humanity”. They have killed all this in their hearts. 

Lavrov put out the cigarette and silently was listening. Now most of all he regretted that he had chosen such a difficult way, and hadn’t listened to his mother. 

- You have been are here for a week, you are still a greenhorn, it will be okey in  time. 

- And what about that boy?, Lavrov decided to ask about the  boy who was making something of wood. He hoped that at least he had got here by mistake. 

- We have called him ”the fifth”. He is the most dangerous. He had crimsoned his hands in his  granny’s, mother’s and sister’s blood.  During his stay here he managed to do the harm to three prisoners. One more impact of aggression, and we will have to eliminate him. 

Lieutenant could not take his eyes away from the boy. Just a boy working with a piece of wood turned out to be such a dangerous offender. 

At that moment the boy abruptly rose from his knees, holding some sort of weapon, made just from a piece of wood.  A sharp edge was sticking out to the side, and his hand was gripping the thick end. He came to one of the convicts and without hesitation thrust a stick into his head. Lavrov stood with wide-open eyes and mouth unable to take his eyes from “the fifth". Three guards came up to the boy, forced him to his knees.  A muffled shot sounded.

We do not always see people the way they really are. In most cases they appear to us exactly the way we want them to be. Not everyone is able to judge accurately what kind of man is standing in front him. We see true faces only when it's getting late, and always regret for not spotting it before.  

 

 

WE WRITE: Valeria Makeyonok, 10b

 The Fifth

Written by Valeria Makeyonok, 10b

The colony was noisy and crowded. There were cells, filled with cockroaches and rats, walls which had long been for youngsters like native home. Some of them had never even seen their  homes. There was weeny life under their belts.

Lieutenant Lavrov was smoking in the courtyard, leaning against the wall that connected the piece of the roof and the floor. His gaze was sliding over faces of young offenders. He had been working here just for a week, and everything seemed so new and frightening. His mother always said that he could have become a good doctor, and now, remembering her words, he was afraid that he had made the wrong choice.

Bitter smoke filled lungs and steady mist drifted before his eyes. Lavrov was looking at the boy, aged 13, who tried to nail a wooden plank to the next one, while the others were playing cards, and with loud laughter were discussing something.

-          Lieutenant, are you resting? - captain Lepnitskiysmoking a cigarette joined  Lavrov.

Lavrov exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on that small boy.

- They are just kids, with hesitation said Lavrov. He was still worried about  the question, how such boys could fall into the place like that.

- They’re not kids,  the captain replied slowly, -kids are just a shell, each of them is not the same they used to be. Do you see that one in ragged  pants and with a scar on his face? At the age of 15 he killed his sister with a knife, and that red-haired one set fire to his cat alive. All of them have seen such life, that you couldn’t even dare to peep. They are not familiar with the feelings of “pity”, “compassion”, “humanity”. They have killed all this in their hearts.

Lavrov put out the cigarette and silently was listening. Now most of all he regretted that he had chosen such a difficult way, and hadn’t listened to his mother.

- You have been are here for a week, you are still a greenhorn, it will be okey in  time.

- And what about that boy?, Lavrov decided to ask about the  boy who was making something of wood. He hoped that at least he had got here by mistake.

- We have called him ”the fifth”. He is the most dangerous. He had crimsoned his hands in his  granny’s, mother’s and sister’s blood.  During his stay here he managed to do the harm to three prisoners. One more impact of aggression, and we will have to eliminate him.

Lieutenant could not take his eyes away from the boy. Just a boy working with a piece of wood turned out to be such a dangerous offender.

At that moment the boy abruptly rose from his knees, holding some sort of weapon, made just from a piece of wood.  A sharp edge was sticking out to the side, and his hand was gripping the thick end. He came to one of the convicts and without hesitation thrust a stick into his head. Lavrov stood with wide-open eyes and mouth unable to take his eyes from “the fifth". Three guards came up to the boy, forced him to his knees.  A muffled shot sounded.

We do not always see people the way they really are. In most cases they appear to us exactly the way we want them to be. Not everyone is able to judge accurately what kind of man is standing in front him. We see true faces only when it's getting late, and always regret for not spotting it before.