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The first strike

Maranda felt it was a blessing to leave home. She gazed out of the stained glass window of  her  attic bedroom, across endless miles of muddy paths as she sighed in relief. She didn’t miss her hometown, it was always filled with criminals and thieves, heavy traffic and flashing lights-it was all too much for the poor girl. She now lives in a little cottage on 35 Mangalo lane. The little attic room she slept in was where Mrs Jones’ daughter used to stay. She didn’t exactly know what happened to her but Marandas guess is that she got lost or something. Mrs Jones hates when she mentions her, and forbids her to, I wonder why. After one time of asking what happened to the daughter, Mrs Jones lashed out at Maranda in rage, and yelled “You never mention that girl again! As long as you live under my roof, I never want to hear anything about her again!” That was the day she learnt not to say anything about the girl again, but she couldn’t help herself to wonder about the mysterious daughter.

 

Her first day of school was a blur. The teacher was a man with the name Mr smith. I don’t know why but he was so fond of Maranda even though she couldn’t read. She made an effort but the teacher kept coming over to her, patting her back and telling her she can do it. It was supportive but Maranda was freaking out inside, she thought that the kids would call her stupid, and she was slightly conserned about the teachers acts of kindness. She wrote very carefully, her writing always as neat as a typewriter. She tried to sink her worries down but she could hardly manage. She did become pretty popular since she was so immaculate but she still found reading difficult. As soon as the bell rang the teacher asked her to stay for a talk, Maranda looked terrified, she paused to take a look at him for a second. All the other students were gone. She took a deep breath, sprinted out the door. What a day!

 

The weeks felt long for Maranda, it was like the days were never-ending. She did manage to create a routine though. Her days were mostly spent at school, writing gorgeous letters and making progress in reading, then helping out Mrs Jones. She had a beautiful garden with many flowers and nature. There were many species of plants in her garden and many of them Maranda didn’t know existed. She watered the plants in the day before going to school and at noon,  and then she collected eggs from the chickens and played around with Orla for a while. She’s Mrs Jones’ fox and she’s well trained, she hasn’t even layed a paw on the chickens. She never knew you could tame a fox but training it to not even go for the chickens, she was stunned at this achievement! 

 

After another long day of her routine, Mrs Jones told Maranda to get some shut-eye. But Maranda couldn’t get to sleep, she felt way too energetic, or was it perhaps fear? Whatever it may be, it was keeping her awake, so Maranda decided to take a gander at the stars. She gazed out of her window, the stars glistening in the dark skies. Then, she heard the front door close. She then saw Mrs Jones, lantern in hand, walking into a mysterious forest nearby. This forest was where Maranda’s classmates went in the night, they always snuck out and played there for hours. Sometimes until 4am! Did Mrs Jones always sneak out there? Has she been doing it before she came?

 

Maranda decided to sneak out and follow her to see what she was up to. Maybe she was foraging berries for breakfast? She wasn’t sure but one way or another, she was going to find out. She followed Mrs Jones quietly, sneaking around in her dressing gown while Mrs Jones was in a black robe. She stalked her for 5 minutes, then she stopped. She had found her classmates’ den. 

“Alright, I’m heading off now,” a child said to the rest of them. “See you guys at school!”

He walked off making his way home-Mrs Jones followed and Maranda tagged along behind her. The boy whistled a tune, then out of nowhere, Mrs Jones sped up. She decided to hide in a bush close by, right in front of the boy, but what she saw traumatised her for life. Mrs Jones leapt up onto the child and relentlessly stabbed him. She covered his mouth so that he couldn’t scream and Maranda sat in the bush, watching her stab him. Mrs Jones then put her hood down. Her teeth were as sharp as fangs, her eyes bright with joy. She wasn’t human…there’s no way she could be…

 

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