Shadowing-Übung: The Story I Wrote Became My Life - Englisch Sprechen Lernen mit YouTube
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Ever since I can remember, I've been all about making up stories.
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Ever since I can remember, I've been all about making up stories.
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I don't know what kind of magic my parents mixed into my DNA, but that brew gave me one heck of an imagination.
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When I was a kid, my friends on the playground loved the games and tales I came up with.
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Did the prince save her?
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He got lost, so she teamed up with the dragon.
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No way!
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Yep, and they took over the kingdom together.
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Whoa!
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But as I got older, my audience got smaller and eventually vanished.
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Paper doesn't judge though, so I began writing my stories down.
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And I have to admit, I absolutely loved writing.
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So by the time I hit 16, all I wanted was to be a famous author.
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But my schoolmates weren't into reading my silly fairy tales, as they called them.
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And the more I tried to stand out, the more I heard.
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So I sneak a peek from the corner and there's Mrs. Wilson turning into a huge bug.
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Stop lying, June.
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After the break, he's not the same.
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Seriously, it's an alien.
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Not the Jack we knew.
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You're such a liar, June.
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Oops, my bad.
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June, it's me.
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Nice to meet you.
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And before I continue, please like and subscribe!
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Anyways, I was craving recognition, and everything finally changed when we got a substitute English teacher.
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His name was Arthur Lewis, and he looked really cool.
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In the very first class, he asked us to write a short story about any character from a classic book.
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I chose the rabbit from Alice's Adventures and received an A+.
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After class, he asked me to stay behind.
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You've got an exceptional imagination, young lady.
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Most people tend to lose that spark as they grow older, but not you.
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I'm not that old yet.
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I've still got plenty of time.
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But what if I told you
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that you could take your stories to a whole new level
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and have your readers glued to the book until the very end?
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I'm all years.
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He handed me a flyer.
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A party?
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A writing club.
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Come join and see where your story takes you.
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The following Thursday was our first club meeting.
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We wrote short stories as an exercise, and I even managed to add some illustrations to mine.
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My artistic skills weren't top-notch, but it worked out fine because the main character was… Is it a rock?
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My face flushed like a boiling balloon.
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That was Jim, my secret crush since I was 10.
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He was as brilliant as Stephen Hawking and as hot as a chili pepper.
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Best mix, if you ask me.
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In my diaries, he went by the codename Buffalo Wings.
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My spicy hot… Rawr!
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Yeah, his name is Kid.
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The story's called Kid, a Rock.
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He rolls around the world in search of his long-lost father, Mountain.
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Sounds cool, June.
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OMG, he knew my name!
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Sure, we'd had science classes together, but we'd never really spoken before.
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He'd always seemed so mysterious, silent, and oh-so-perfect.
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And now he was talking to me!
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When I was a kid, I wrote a story about an ice cube.
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Looking back, it was quite a depressing tale because spring arrived too early.
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Our Thursday meetings became a regular thing, but one day, Mr. Lewis asked us to help him move some books into our library.
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It's part of an exchange program between state schools.
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We're giving away our books, and they're sending us books from other schools.
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The packages weren't exactly lightweight, but we had fun.
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Picture yourselves as thieves.
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And those are ancient relics and manuscripts that could unveil the secrets of Atlantis.
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He often tasked us to play out the roles of the characters we planned to write about.
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My eyes lit up.
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I'd never played a thief before.
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I began to look around and tiptoe, but as I got into character, I didn't notice a small hole in the ground.
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I tripped and fell, and the box I was carrying flew several feet away.
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Are you all right?
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He rushed over and offered his hand.
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When I took it, I felt a little jolt, like static electricity.
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To avoid falling again, I hugged him, and our faces ended up so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
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You're limping!
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It'll pass.
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He shook his head, lifted me in his arms, and carried me back to school.
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June, did you hear me?
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Huh?
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I asked if you're alright.
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He stood over me, looking concerned.
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Ugh, those daydreams.
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I'm just a lousy thief.
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He gave me a hand to stand, then dashed back to school.
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I picked up a box and noticed it had ripped open.
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I peeked inside to check if the books were okay.
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History of Revolutions, boring but intact, little women, also fine.
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Whoa, what's that?
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I pulled out a massive volume, covered with colorful pictures and gold letters.
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It was so shiny I had to shield my eyes with my hand.
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I'd never seen a book this fancy before.
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The Holy Bible.
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Well, my copy is definitely not this pretty.
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I put the book away and carried the box to the library.
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Just in a few days, I was at home watching the news.
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They were talking about a bunch of bold robberies happening all over the country.
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Three billionaires have already reported valuable stuff stolen from their collections.
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There were some rare books and old paintings and the almost priceless King James Bible.
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I sat there, mouth wide open, a spoon in my hand, jam dripping from it.
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The Bible they showed on TV was exactly the same as the one I saw in that box.
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It's my teacher who stole it.
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Sweetie, come on, we talked about this.
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All made-up stories go in the notebook.
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But it's true!
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Right.
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And I guess he's also a cult leader, huh?
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That would be a cool twist, Dad.
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I knew this story was a goldmine.
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It could change everything!
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But I needed evidence, so I decided to play detective.
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I put on a trench coat and went on a mission.
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I hid in the bushes near the school, using my dad's binoculars to keep a close watch.
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The cheerleaders were in the locker room near the field.
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One of the girls was bragging about her new Chanel bag, even though I saw her yesterday in a replica store.
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Another was adding fake hair to her ponytail, and the third was copying something from one sheet to another.
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I zoomed in.
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Those were the answers for tomorrow's test!
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Seriously?
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And they called me a liar?
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What are you up to?
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I jumped, accidentally banging my head on something.
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Playing detective.
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It's for a story.
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I'd ask if I could join, but I don't think I'm allowed to spy on the girls in the locker room.
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My cheeks flushed like ripe strawberries.
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It's not about them.
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I'm spying on Mr. Lewis.
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Oh?
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Why?
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I spilled the beans about that weird book and the robberies happening around, and how badly I needed some proof for the cops.
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Honestly, I was pretty sure he wouldn't buy it.
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He'd likely go, You're just making stuff up, or quit with the lies.
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But instead, he just nodded and said, I'm in.
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I was shocked.
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Staring at him in disbelief, I couldn't even remember the last time someone had trusted me so easily.
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You really believe me?
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Why shouldn't I?
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It's just.. the others.
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Well, I'm not like the others.
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I know what it's like to be different.
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It was like a daydream coming to life.
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My eyes filled with tears and I started sobbing.
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Jim came closer and hugged me.
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He smelled like Christmas cookies.
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Ginger and spice.
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Then he shared that he lost his mom when he was just a kid.
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His dad, a big-shot inventor, was always knee-deep in tech stuff or jet-setting around the world.
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Jim, though, wanted more of his dad's time, so he began shadowing him and even tinkering with his own inventions.
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He totally loved it, even though his interests zoomed past what was normal for someone his age.
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And, you know, kids can be pretty harsh when they see someone who's different.
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So I learned to stay quiet and keep everything to myself.
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I gazed into his eyes, deep as the ocean.
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I just wished he'd grab my hand and we'd dash into the sunset together.
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So we dove into spying on Mr. Lewis.
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Days passed with no sign of anything fishy, but Jim brought some cool gadgets.
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Like an invisible UV ink pen, or a dice with a hidden camera.
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Are you like a real spy or something?
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Haha, I made these for fun after binge watching James Bond.
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Never tried them out for real, so no guarantees they'll work.
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He pulled something out from his pocket.
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A super cute necklace with a black stone.
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He gently placed it around my neck.
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Is this.. for me?
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It's a voice recorder.
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Just tap it here, and it'll start recording.
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OMG, I totally forgot how to breathe!
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Is it even legal to be this perfect?
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Oh, it's him!
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Mr. Lewis was speedwalking, holding a package.
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He glanced back before vanishing into the alley behind the school.
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Hurry, or he'll slip away!
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We sprinted after him, trying to stay low, trailing him until he reached what seemed like an old factory building.
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He entered.
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Darn it!
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We've got to follow!
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I looked around.
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There was an open window about seven feet off the ground.
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Jim crouched down.
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I stepped on his hands and he boosted me up.
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I grabbed the frame and pulled myself inside with gem following.
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June, you do know that we just freely walked through the door, right?
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Shh, that's my story!
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So, what did I say?
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Oh yeah!
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We ended up in this massive warehouse, rows upon rows of shelves stacked with boxes.
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We snooped around a bit, found some ancient stuff, paintings, and books.
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Sick!
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I snapped a few pics with my phone.
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We moved on, trying to be all stealthy.
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That's it!
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We both froze.
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My heart was pounding like crazy, so I grabbed Jim's hand for comfort.
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He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
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The last one.
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We better move.
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I've got a bad feeling... But what?
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Just pack everything up, and be ready tomorrow.
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I heard footsteps fading away and peeked from behind the shelves.
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Nobody.
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Quick!
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Over here!
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There was a table piled with papers, some documents and maps.
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I didn't know if any of it mattered, but I took some snaps and sneaked a dice with a camera between the stacks.
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We gotta find that book!
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This one?
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All kinds of stuff happened at once.
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I jumped up.
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Someone's grip clamped painfully onto our arms from behind.
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Ouch!
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Two burly men had us locked down tight.
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No way to squirm free!
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Mr. Lewis leaned against a wall, holding the stolen Bible.
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Well, well, my best students.
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Playing detective, I suppose?
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He strolled over and picked up the dice, checking it out.
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Impressive.
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A camera.
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Clever move.
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He tossed it on the floor and crushed it underfoot.
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Darn it!
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I wished I could frame my hands and activate the necklace recorder, but the dude behind me wasn't giving me any room to work.
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You stole all that stuff.
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Why?
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He took the phone from my pocket and began deleting the photos I'd snapped earlier.
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As he did, he explained that he swiped identities to use as a cover
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while robbing rich jerks who hoarded rare items and locked them away in dark rooms, hidden from the world.
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I aim to open a museum where everyone can see these treasures.
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Noble cause, but why stealing?
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He mumbled something about...
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Rich morons who'd never understand.
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I was done with it.
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I twitched and sank my teeth into the burly man's hand.
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He howled in pain and shoved me away.
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Quick as lightning, I sprung back up, landing a solid punch right on his nose.
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Don't mess with me!
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Jim seized the chance and delivered a swift kick to his captor's shin.
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Take that!
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We were fighting like a team.
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We were furious.
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We were on fire.
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It was like we had a superpower that made us invincible.
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I paused to scan the area, but there was no sign of Mr. Lewis.
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And then, a sudden blow, and everything faded to black.
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I woke up to soft touches.
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Jim loomed over me, gently wiping my forehead with a damp towel.
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Note to self, never get on your bad side.
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I chuckled, and he explained that when one of the guards knocked me out, he got really freaked out, so he decided to even the score by giving them a few knocks, and then carried me away.
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Oh, my white knight, the hero of my story!
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But we still don't have any proof against Mr. Lewis!
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He flashed a sly grin and removed my necklace.
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I switched it on when I pretended to kiss you.
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Pretended?
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My heart sank.
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I thought...
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I thought...
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It didn't take long to convince the cops when we handed over the recording.
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Sadly, by the time they arrived to arrest Mr. Lewis, he vanished without a trace.
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But hey, at least all the stolen stuff found its way back to their rightful owners.
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Now that we've recovered the stolen gems, we can finally realize our long-standing dream of establishing the museum.
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We've always wanted to allow people worldwide to marvel at these precious artifacts.
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Yeah, right.
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It's been their long-standing dream all along.
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As for me, after tons of reporters swarmed the school wanting interviews, it turned out that everybody wanted to say some nice words about me on camera.
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She's like my ride or die, you know?
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We're practically sisters.
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She's a creative genius.
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Her stories are seriously something else.
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Honestly, I didn't care.
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I was too busy writing a book.
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It hit the shelves in a month and went straight to bestseller status.
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I didn't hold a grudge against Mr. Lewis.
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Even if he was a bad guy, I did take my stories to a whole new level.
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Just like he promised.
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And you know what?
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I feel like my rock finally found its mountain.
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Wait, I thought mountain was like.. it's dead.
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It's an allegory, silly.
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Oh, and one last thing.
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Just yesterday, I got a copy of my book with a little note on it.
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Well done, A+.
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Any guesses on who that might have been?
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Thank you.
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Über diese Lektion
Was ist die Shadowing-Technik?
Shadowing ist eine wissenschaftlich fundierte Sprachlerntechnik, die ursprünglich für die professionelle Dolmetscherausbildung entwickelt und durch den Polyglotten Dr. Alexander Arguelles populär gemacht wurde. Die Methode ist einfach aber wirkungsvoll: Du hörst englisches Audio von Muttersprachlern und wiederholst es sofort laut — wie ein Schatten, der dem Sprecher mit nur 1–2 Sekunden Verzögerung folgt. Anders als passives Hören oder Grammatikübungen zwingt Shadowing dein Gehirn und deine Mundmuskulatur, gleichzeitig echte Sprachmuster zu verarbeiten und zu reproduzieren. Studien zeigen, dass es Aussprachegenauigkeit, Intonation, Rhythmus, verbundene Sprache, Hörverständnis und Sprechflüssigkeit signifikant verbessert — was es zu einer der effektivsten Methoden für die IELTS Speaking-Vorbereitung und reale englische Kommunikation macht.