Emily Taylor

For the past few weeks, my 15-year-old son, Oliver, had been acting a bit off. Not cheeky or rebellious

**Diary Entry** The bus driver kicked an 80-year-old woman off for not paying her fare. She barely spoke

Happy Changes Elizabeth Bennett stepped out of her house and paused. She narrowed her eyes slightly

**Everything Will Be Alright…** The car sped through the quiet streets of London in the dead of night.

For weeks, my fifteen-year-old son, Oliver, had been acting… odd. Not rude, just withdrawn.

**Meeting Old Friends** The engine hummed drowsily, the car filled with the scent of leather and air

Edward pulled up to the old, decaying five-storey block of flats and parked where the number plates wouldn’t

Fortunate Changes Margaret Whitmore stepped out of her terraced house and paused. Squinting slightly

Simon pulled up to the dreary postwar block of flats and parked discreetly, keeping his number plate

**Learning from Mistakes** The ambulance raced through London with its sirens blaring and lights flashing.