It’s very likely that you’ve enjoyed a day at Sandy Beach. In the summer I expect you: ate a Mister Whippy from the ice cream van on the beach; splashed in the calm waves while your mum and dad slept in the hot sun and built huge sandcastles decorated with shells. But if you had made the visit in winter: the bitter wind whips against your face; the cold freezes bones and the waves bash the beach like a wrecking ball. Even the locals stay well clear of the beach during the winter, with good reason. My name is Melvin Mackerel, (most people call me Mack) and I spend my days making the museum look spotless: I begin my day by polishing the statues; sweeping the floor and make everything perfect for the visitors. Some people say it must be boring but I like it. I have a small comfy room up in the attic I have a ladder to get up and down. It suits me just fine. I can hear a noise, A small boy is at the bottom of the ladder, shaking it, “Let me in he whispers”. I open up the door and he jumps in and he asks “are you alone?” I stuttered, “ye- ye-yes. Hide me” Before I continue with what happens next, there is one story about our town that I should tell you. It happened so long ago that no one remember the date. Local legends tell of a monster that emerges out of the sea. Some people say that it is a mander a puggamander that is looking for a child, some say the puggamander it is stalking the streets searching for food. When the townsfolk hear it they bolt their doors and draw the curtains. I never seen it or heard it but on stormy nights scary sounds can be heard. “Why do you need to hide?” I ask. “what’s the matter?” ” I’ve heard it, I know I’ve heard it” he says,” be quick bolt the door, close the curtains!”