Short Stories & FictionWritten by Kids & Teenagers

Justice

A short realistic fiction we had to write for school. I was so pissed off that we couldn't write fantasy, so I wrote something my English teacher couldn't stand. I'm much more happy now…

‘I’m sorry, but we just can’t look after you. You’re getting in trouble with the police too often. You’re going to have to leave, at least for a week or two, so your mother and I can have time to ourselves to discuss this.’
Matthew slung his backpack over his shoulder. The news that his parents were kicking him out came as no surprise. He had even expected it to happen sooner. But he had also expected at least his mother to crack, to show some compassion. When he walked out the door, his father, mother and brother were all frowning. Not so much as a tear stained their silent faces.
‘Great,’ Matthew thought aloud to himself, ‘my family hates me.’

He made a beeline straight towards the dilapidated apartment building where his father had rented him a flat. At least he didn’t have to live on the street. He knew that his situation wouldn’t help his schoolwork one bit, but then again, since when did he care about that? At the moment, his attention was focused on surviving. Especially at school. A boy named John had decided to victimize Matthew as soon as he stepped onto the high school grounds. Just because Matthew was an albino. Unfortunately for Matthew, John had a large group of cronies who made sure that the chosen victim was both outnumbered and isolated from any help.

When Matthew arrived at school the following Monday, no-one had any clue of the travesty that was going to occur that week.

It was a normal school day. Generally. Teachers yelling, kids misbehaving and general mayhem. In class, Matthew was treated like a normal kid. The real trouble began at lunch time.
Matthew was sitting by himself, as usual, in the corner of the quadrangle. He didn’t have any lunch, and instead was hurriedly finishing his homework. Then John sauntered up, followed closely by his usual band of babbling numbskulls. Of course, Matthew didn’t say that. He said nothing, hoping against hope that John would just keep on walking.

‘Hey ghost boy, I heard your parents kicked you out of your house. They must really love you,’ John teased, in an antagonizing, sarcastic way. A familiar anger coursed through Matthew’s body.
‘How – How did you know that?’ Matthew mumbled.
‘Coz me’ dad knows the owner of that shoddy little apartment block you’re livin’ in. My dad knows everyfink.’ I seriously doubt that, Matthew thought to himself, but he didn’t say a word.

‘I bet you’re just wearing white makeup on your face so you get more attention.’ John’s cronies snickered and jeered at Matthew. They had formed a semi-circle around Matthew, and were blocking off any escape routes.
‘No I’m not,’ Matthew said. He kept his gaze down at the ground.
‘Let’s get his shirt off and check if he’s lying!’ And before Matthew could do anything, John’s gang was clawing at his shirt. He wanted so badly for the jeering to cease, for everything to just stop, however, he knew that there was absolutely no chance of that happening.

When Matthew was finally relieved of his shirt, John was having a laughing fit.
‘You’re pathetic! No wonder your family rejected you, you’re a freak! I’m surprised you even bother to come to school!’
Matthew tried to not let John get to his head. He says this every day, Matthew repeated to himself, no need to get angry. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t help it. Consumed by rage, Matthew stood up and punched John square in the jaw. John stood dumbstruck for a moment.
‘Oi! The ghost just punched me! Ghosts can’t punch people! Get ’im!’ John’s henchmen tackled Matthew and started punching and kicking him. The bell rang. The gang scarpered. Just before he left, John dropped Matthew’s shirt in a puddle of mud.
‘Oops, must’ve slipped. Bye Matt.’ Then he walked off.

Matthew wiped the blood off his face and retrieved his shirt. Years ago, his mother would pretend to be all nice and say "Hey Matt, baby, mummy needs her happy pills..." Happy pills were what she called Ecstasy. Bad experiences like that had contributed to his problems and his hate of the nickname Matt. And John took full advantage of it.

Matthew didn’t realize at the time, but John’s antics had crossed an invisible line, and John had no idea that he was going to pay dearly.

That afternoon, when Matthew was back in the ramshackle flat, he mulled over what John had said. Perhaps he was right. Matthew’s life had been going downhill ever since... Ever since John decided to pick on him. That bastard. He had ruined Matthew’s life. Matthew knew he had to make John stop. That was the only way to get his life back in control. He could stand up to John, although he did have that band of followers. They’d do anything the fat idiot told them... That was it. Get rid of John altogether. And Matthew knew of only one way to do so.

Matthew walked to school the next day. He felt confident for the first time in ages. He made it through the day without causing any suspicion. Good. His adrenalin started going through the roof five minutes before the bell. It was going to take guts, but he knew he had to do it.

BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING. The bell. Matthew strode out into to the quadrangle, where he knew John would be waiting. He walked up to John. Any nerves he had been feeling were deadened by anger.
‘Hey guys, the freak wants to be beaten up today. Whaddya say we give him that pleasure?’ His cronies laughed and barked their agreement.
‘I don’t think that’s going to happen,’ Matthew said as confidently as he could.
‘Ooh-hoo! And why’s that, Matt?’
Matthew pulled out a handgun and pointed it at John’s forehead.

‘This is why.’ His grey eyes stared at John, daring him to make another wisecrack. John just sank to his knees.
‘Oh, come on, it’s just a joke, we were just kidding, you’re not really gonna shoot me, please don’t shoot...’ he kept groveling.
‘Ruining my life was a joke to you?’
‘No no no no no no...’
‘ "You’re pathetic" ’ he quoted. Matthew flicked the safety catch off and pulled the trigger.

BANG. The noise echoed around the school.

There was a stunned silence. Then, chaos. Girls screamed, boys yelled in surprise, even the birds cried out. Two teachers came running over. They came to an abrupt halt when they saw the gun in Matthew’s pale hand, and the bloody form of John.
‘It’s okay Matthew, if you just put the gun down, we can sort all this out...’ Matthew did as the teacher asked. There was no reason not to. He knew that what he did was bad, and that he should face the consequences. He wasn’t going to deny that. It was just the only way he knew how to get rid of John.

As the police handcuffed him and put him in the back of the police car, Matthew felt strangely calm. He knew that in its own little way, justice had been served.

شطرنج

امروز که توکلاس درس بودم یکی از بچه ها اسم مهره های شطرنج رو ازم خواست .از اون جایی که توکلاس همیشه وقت کم میارم و به قول بچه ها اگه سر صحبت باز بشه تهش رو الله اعلم, ترجیح دادم تو وبم مطلبو بذارم.با اجازه از وب آقای آرش استفاده کردم .

نگاهی به نام خارجی ساير مهره های شطرنج و مقايسه آنها با نام فارسی اشان جالب است:

King
معنای لغوی «پادشاه» است، و در فارسی هم به همان نام «شاه» ترجمه شده است.

Queen
همانطور که گفته شد، به معنای «ملکه، شهبانو و زن پادشاه» است، اما در فارسی به «وزير» ترجمه شده. دليلش را نميدانم.

Rook
معنای لغوی اين کلمه به معنای «کلاغ زاغی و کلاغ سياه» است. اما نام فارسی آن «رخ» است. در مورد اين مهره گويا نام Rook از نام فارسی آن برگرفته شده است. «رخ» در زبان فارسی به معنای «ارابه جنگی» است.

Bishop
به معنای «اسقف» است که يکی از مقامات کليسا است. اما در شطرنج فارسی به «فيل» ترجمه شده!

Knight
در ديکشنری اين واژه به «قهرمان، شواليه، نجيب زاده و سوارکار» ترجمه شده. در فارسی هم به نام «اسب» شناخته ميشود. احتمالا دليل اين نامگذاری شکل اين مهره است، که به شکل کله اسب است.

Pawn
در زبان انگليسی اين واژه به معنای «گروگان» است. در صفحه شطرنج ايرانيها به اين مهره «سرباز» يا «پياده» ميگويند.

به نظر ميرسد، به جز مهره «شاه» که ترجمه فارسی و انگليسی اش شبيه هم است، و «رخ» که نام انگليسی اش برگرفته از نام فارسی است، ترجمه هايی که برای نام مهره های «پياده» و «اسب» شده نيز تا اندازه ای قابل تحمل است (يعنی دست کم نام های فارسی و انگليسی اين مهره ها به شکل و شمايل خود مهره مرتبط هستند).

اما نميدانم چرا «ملکه»، «وزير» دربار شده است، و «اسقف» اعظم به مقام شامخ «فيل» بودن رسيده است!

درست نميدانم اين نامها که ما داريم، ترجمه ای از روی نامهای خارجی است، يا آنها از زبان فارسی ترجمه کرده اند، يا هر دو از زبان سومی ترجمه شده. اما به نظر ميرسد نامهای انگليسی نامهای بامسماتری هستند. مثلا نام «ملکه» با توجه به قدرت فوق العاده آن، نام بهتری برای مهره «وزير» است. در مورد «فيل» که خيلی قضيه حادتر است، شکل و شمايل اين مهره نه تنها هيچ شباهتی به فيل ندارد، که اتفاقا خيلی هم شبيه کلاه «اسقف»هاست.

بگذريم، اگر کسی چيزی دراين باره ميداند، ما را هم خبر کند. ممنون ميشوم.

مثالی از شعر خاقانی:

از اسب پیاده شو بر نطع ِ زمین رخ نه / زیر ِ پی ِ پیلش بین شه‌مات شده نعمان

می‌بینی که نام‌های همه‌ی مهره‌های شطرنج جز وزیر یا فرزین در این بیت آمده. البته نطع هم به معنای صفحه‌ی شطرنج است.

یا این بیت از مولوی:

تا کی دوشاخه چون رخی تا کی چو بیذق کم تکی
تا کی چو فرزین کژ روی فرزانه شو فرزانه شو

بیدق=عربی‌شده‌ی پیاده
فرزین= وزیر

نا گفته نماند که ایرانی ها به این بازی shatranj و هندی ها shaturanga  می گفتند .البته شطرنج هندی ها با شطرنج امروزه خیلی متفاوت بوده و شطرنجی که ما امروزه به نام  chessمی شناسیم بیشتر شبیه به شطرنج ایرانیست. به هر حال تمام مهره های شطرنج نشانه قدرت   شاهان  ,سیاست و قدرت وزیران واستحکام کاخ ها ورنج و زحمت مردم در طول تاریخ بوده است .پس زمانی که بر صفحه شطرنج می نشینید و متفکرانه مهره های خود را حرکت می دهید , صدای تاریخ را نیز میشنوید.