Third place in the intermediate group
Monday mornings are never the best. The instant jump-start to the day after the weekend lie ins is hard to cope with. My name is Morgan Graham. “Morgan!” mum calls down the hall. “You have to be up now or you are going to be late for school.”7:00. Mum now comes into my scruffy room. T-shirts get pushed by the door as she enters.“What’s the matter M?” mum whisperedinto my ear.“I don’t know, just frustrated.” I said tiredly.“About what.” Mum asked.“Just school and how people are beingmean tome and that is why I don’t what to go to school.” I said as I turned away from herand put my face into my pillow with my hair covering my forehead.You are probablywondering what I am talking about. When I was 5 years old, my mum and my teachers where worried about how my reading and writing was going. My mum took me to this place called the DDC (Dyslexia Day Centre). She droveme therestraight after school on a Tuesday. I hated it. Mum said I would benefit from it and I would get better,but I didn’t. I’m good at other things. I amgood at hockey, football and love making things and painting. I still don’t like reading and writing but I dotrymy best. My teacher Mr. Jones is very pleased with the progressthat I have made.“Come on Morgan,don’t let all the bad things bring you down, let the good things raise you up. Now,let’s get ready for school. I will drive you in.” mum said enthusiastically.“OK.”I mumbled in a kind ofacceptingway.8:00. At school. I think everything is going to bealright!