Here are the first pages of autobiographical novels, written by the students

1. Here are the first pages of autobiographical novels, written by the students

2. HereisMélany’s : The Coco Chanel of SuburbiaMy name is... Does it really matter ? I don’t think so. I had so many names and nationalities as I was from nowhere. Nevertheless nobody contested that I belonged indeed to the fashion world. This closed world would let you understand who I was. How old am I ? I am ageless. Besides, when journalists asked to the models, I work with, if I had already hinted at my age, girls always answered ‘She’s the Coco Chanel of Suburbia, she’s more than your past or your futur ; she’s the eternity, do you get it ?’ Workers’ daughter, I denied my family for a long time, not to say throughout their existence. There were poor and I dreamed of a better life where money flowed freely. A life where this shoddy cotton mixed with plastic did not exist. That really gave me pimples. I had cravings for silk, satin and rabbit fur. But I knew I had to go if I hoped. We always need hope and iron will. These things are the most important to manage and make your dreams come true. Thus I left, behind me there were only strangers. In Paris starting from scratch, with just a map and a notebook, I enjoyed. I did menial jobs and I easily climbed in the social ladder, becoming rich, proud and arrogant. I spent my life to run after money while I had enough it to build an empire as big as the planet. In the course of time, I was very tired of this gold routine. Everything was to easy like a stupid video game. If I wanted a scarce pearl, I claps my hands and I got it. If I wanted a new villa, I enter a special number on my phone, I called, and I got it. If I wanted a new husband, I also got it as the player choose his character. But one day everything changed.

3. And Céline's : My name is Feline, and I'm a dog, a chihuahua ! I know what you think : « Oh ! It's strange ! A dog writing his autobiography ?! Does it speak like a human being ?? » So let me say to you that : Yes ! I can speak like a human being ! But, they just hear my barks.. The philosophers say that the animals can't speak, and think, and reflect … So for the moment, I don't want to speak to them … They can't understand … They won't understand ! It's what I thought two months ago. Now, I have found a family, and what a wonderful family ! They are so different … So sweet and nice ! I love them ! And they know that I can speak like them. Let me tell you what happened, because, for me, it was the beginning of everything. I had been in my family for one month. Their names were Philip, Natacha, Celinia and Gabriel Sultana. I was officially Celinia's dog, because she bought me, and she wanted me a little bit more than the rest of the family. But the others love me too ! If they gave their permission to buy me, they might love me ! I think … No, I know that ! I'm sure. So it was a Saturday, and the weather was fine. I was in the garden, when I saw Kyt, the neigbhoor's cat. Kyt is my friend ! Yes, cats and dogs can be friends ! There again, something humain beings don't believe… But let's not waste any more time. So I saw Kyt, and I spoke with her. 'Hi honey ! How are you ? And your little Harry ? (it's her maestro)' I aksed. 'Fine, fine, thank you, and Harry too, he made a rapid recovery ! And you ?' 'Ow, great ! I'm fine too, thanks … Kyt … Do you think that I can speak to the Sultana's ?' 'Speak to us like they speak to the other human bieng ?! It's a risk, but I think that you can try ! They are very open-minded, they are not like the other human being.' She said to me. 'I know, I know … But if they don't understand, if they are scared ?! Ow, my god … I can't imagine …' 'Don't panic Feline ! They love you more than anything ! You have to be courageous ! You can speak to them ! And you'll never know if you never try.' 'You're right … Yes ! I will speak to them ! Today !' So, more determined than ever, I turned round and … Celinia was here, just here, and at her face, she had heard my conversation with Kyt. I couldn't move, I looked her in the eyes … 1

4. Nina's : I can't start writing telling you my name because I don't have one anymore. I used to have a name but they erased it! Now they call me 127266. You would think this is not a good way to call a person but now I’m considered not worthy of a name. Today, we are 15 May 1945 and today something is going to happen! Henceforth, I and my fellow creatures are slaves; we don’t own anything anymore, even our names. Because we are the scum of the world as they say, the parasites they have to fight in the name of the pure race: Aryan race. Today, we are 15 May 1945, and I can see the two officers with their horrible tattoos in the neck: two “S” like a flash of lightning. I know my time has come, they are here for me. This number they call me, they tattooed me on my forearm before cutting me hair and separating me from my brothers. As if it could make me forget my culture and my religion. We can’t delete three millenniums of history! Today, we are 15 May 1945 and today is the day I’m being sent to the gas chamber. Here we are! In front of it! The invention that has already burnt thousands of Jews. What does it look like being in front of death? Will it hurt? The officers open the door of the chamber. My legs are petrified and I can’t move. They make me get inside. They close the door… When… BOOM!!! 1

5. Justine's : THE WHEEL TURNS Foreword : As Will Smith has said  « Begin everyday as if it had been written for you » So,this is my story. I’m a girl, my name is Olivia, I’m twenty years old, no boy friend, living alone in New York with my cat Pussy in an appartment in front of central park. Every Tuesday night I eat  chinese food  with my best friend Cally, and after that, we look our favorite TV show : Vampires Diary ! (Please no comment, I know it’s ridiculous but I love it, it makes me  dream about the life that I will never have. I have to tell me that I have a normal life, like everybody, that I’m not different . I study law and at week-end, I work  in a restaurant. I’m so busy and it’s difficult for me to spend time with my friends and have fun after school… And in reality, my life is much more difficult. I have to behave as if everything was ok for me,   I have to keep inside my fear and my lonelynessfellings. Everyday, I have to face people’ glance but it doesn’t matter…I don’t need their pity, I don’t need anything or anyone. I think you have understood  what I am refering to. I am handicapped, two years ago I had a car accident, I lost my parents and my sister Mary. I survided. I don’t know why but I’ve survided. God let me scars to prevent me from forgetting  what  happened on this september 25th 2010… I can’t  walk anymore ! Your life can turn in a second, your life can stop imediatly. What happened to me is a second chance. It’s a trial everyday  but I have to keep the best, and go on. I don’t know how to describe my life.  How do I feel ? How can I share with you this experience about my new life ? I don’t complain. I keep living. It’s a new life with a new way of living. I would like to let you discover the story of a young girl, whose destiny played a nasty trick.  Share with me my happiness and and my sadness. And don’t forget that the show must go on,  running like a  wheelchair which would rush down : the wheel turns,  life flies. Enjoy and follow exemple !  First chapter One day , First Chapter : The day before..

6. Juliette's : The world system is so repetitive. Every day  here-below is so cyclic. « That day is like all the other days.. » I tell this myself every morning since.. almost 10 years ? God. Well, never mind... Never mind. I'm tired, like every day, I'm uncomfortable, like every morning in the metro at 7.30 am. The noise all around, people all around, the same dull expression on their face... I just want to get out of there. I'm so gloomy...Well, never mind. Just 15 minuts left, come on.    15 minutes, and I'll run in the street, make the bus, walk through three streets, and get to the office...great. My office ? An open-space, which means, for employees an industrial henhouse. I used to bear this job. I don't know how. My colleagues are often distrustful and unsociable. They are almost as distant as my boss. The latter must refrain from expressing openly his condescension toward us thanks to a rigorous politeness. My wife advised me to « develop my secret garden » to forget this stressful atmosphere.. I added a picture of her, with the children on my desk, and a house plant. I don't think it have change anythings. I just look at the photo when I'm really tired of work, or when my boss exceptionally gave me a break, but it don’t allay me at all. My wife is blonde, her hair are always nicely done, she has little blue eyes, and of course she's smiling on the photo. She's always smiling, every time, even when she shouldn't, as if everything was always okay. Everyone say she's radiant, but this drippy smile unnerve me. I see this photo every day, my wife, the dog, and my two children, Josh and Cecilia, 11 and 8. I've realized recently that this photo is the most depressing thing in my day. Is that weird? My all life is so trivial. At the end of the day, I'll make the same route backwards, come back home, kiss my wife, watch the TV and sleep, and it will start again...for what? Today is empty, as all others days, a life of nothingness. It's 7 pm, I left the office, thinking that I've never been so tired. I run in the street in order not to come too late at home, to avoid my wife smiling bitterly while she's saying that she's disappointed. I make the bus. Run for the metro, run, and, suddenly stop. What am I doing ? It doesn't make any sense, my all life doesn't make any sense. I've decided to walk, no matter what will happen then. I get in the metro, and wait. The same dull expression around me.. everywhere, everything is dull. I watch the floor, doors open, people get out, people get in the metro, I'm staying, impassive. Suddenly my eyes are attracted by something bright. I feel a powerful presence. A red-hair man, wearing a long black coat, get in the metro. He look at me, I see the most devastating thing I've ever seen. His eyes are golden. His gaze is piercing. He pierces my mind, as if he knows my all life, as if he understands all my feelings.  I'm electrified, frightened, I can't make any movement, he has fixed his gaze into my mind, for the eternity. Then a fascinating smile emerge from his gaze, not his mouth. I’m living the weirdest moment of my life. God, I think I’m understanding what “fall in love” means. 1 1

7. And Féréale's : I’ve always wondered how it would be like to suffer. I mean, I never suffered in my whole life, not even once. I’ve always wondered how I would feel, would it be painful or not? From where my pain would come from? Perhaps, from whom …? My mind was empty, my eyes wide opened, only focusing on breathing slowly, deeply, my hands all over my chest as if it was a live hand grenade that I tried to hold back to explode. This sensation inside my body wasn’t painful, it was worst, like acidic running through my veins and burning every single part of my skeleton… And that scent, an odd-mixture of rose and honey, I thought, somewhere, not far from me. “Bonnie?! Bonnie?! Are you here?” I was trying to see who was calling me but my eyes were blinded, blurred by something wet. Probably tears. I wanted to stop holding my chest but I started suffocating forthwith, I was unable to move, paralyzed by grief. “Bonnie?! I’m serious where are you?! Bonnie! ” I wanted to scream with all my strength “I’m here! “, but no words could come out of my mouth. I was helpless and there was this odd scent floating in the air and getting closer and closer to me, I could smell it. The calling voice was now, just a whisper, barely audible and when the last call came to my ears, my heart skipped a beat and I realized that someone was standing in front of me, “That scent…” I thought. I started again, focusing on breathing slowly, deeply. 1 1