Chapter 4
The sun blazed through the sky, as a reign of heat smouldered my back. For as long as Max had been living with Mrs Mary – which was around 4-5 years- it had not been that hot/sunny at one point. Heat waves were always visible- and at one point- it was so boiling hot, that he couldn’t even see the tree in front of him; well he eventually found out. Mr Mary wanted Max to go down and feed Alexa; but by the time he got there- his lungs were as dry as an old well. This worried Max- snow leopards weren’t meant to stay in weather (like this) for more than a week. Unfortunately, Alexa had suffered for 11 days. Max always made sure she had extra water and food to keep her fit through the heat: otherwise, she would slowly become weaker and weaker till she was nearly dead.

Max gave her a cold bath three times a day now and checks her every hour- just to make sure she was okay. “It has never ever been so ruddy hot in all my life- and that’s a long time!” exclaimed Mrs Mary, tipping a whole bottle over her head. This is when max had had enough. He stormed out of the house, quickly ran the tap over his head, and ran to the forest.

When he gets to the forest, Mrs Mary is there- waiting. How did she get there, thought Max, looking around for Alexa. “Where is Alexa?” he wondered, eyeing Mrs Mary.
She looked at the floor, twiddling her fingers: she then explained-” I’ve taken her away- their was no point in her being here if she was going to get taken away anyway.” She looked at Max.
He didn’t know what to say- so he didn’t say anything at all.

That night, he thought, waiting for the solution to come to mind. Suddenly, it struck him: Mrs Mary must be a time traveller. That’s why she looked older every time she came back from going to see Alexa.

Years later, ages after the war had finished,Mrs Mary sent me a letter, saying why she was so old now and sorry she didn’t explain the truth to me. Right now, I was bewildered. But then I realized what it was; Alexa was now just a floating memory dying away like a sunlit candle.

The summer holidays stretched along like an arm reaching for chocolate. Day after day, Max would dawdle along the pavement until he was called in for tea. Mrs Mary was always grumpy, as if she woke up at 2 am every morning. Within days, it was like the trees, the fields, and nature had submerged into the soggy ground, and towers of glass had erupted. Rubble was strewn over the floor; plastering the road, as Max wandered grumpily through the streets. A ripple of smoke billowed into the air, leaving Max spluttering and coughing.

During the aching nights, Max ventured to the woods, were their pet snow leopard roamed-Alexa. Max always fed Alexa for tea a breakfast; sometimes she hunts herself, and come back with rabbits down HER muzzle. Sometimes, Max even got to ride on her back; feel the stars, stroke the sun , and pluck the moon from the dark abyss of swallowing nothingness. Mrs Mary said, that most years she had to deal with Alexa’s cubs, and that is a lot of hard work.

The reason Mrs Mary has the snow leopard is, snow leopards are very endangered animals from poacher: their fur coat is worth many coins. In the daytime, Alexa sleeps in her under-grove, waiting for night to come.

Max watched Alexa sleep – desperate to wake her up. Devastated by the news he had received, he solemnly roamed the woods. Last night, their had been a sighting of Alexa- by Max’s Head teacher. Wanting to cry out, he remembered what dad had said before he left,’ Us Woods need to show our emotions, if you don’t you will just become angrier and more sad.’

The news said, she was a dangerous animal and a threat to humanity: it was an endangered animal and needed to be kept by the zoo. Max and Mr Mary both knew that she was a rare creature, but did not need to be kept by the zoo, she was theirs.

That night, Mary and Max discussed their ideas at tea time. It was mostly Mrs Mary’s ideas, but Max was still involved. “I reckon we should try and persuade the government not to; on the other hand, they are as tough as rocks to break.” suggested Max. Maybe we could hide her or disguise her as something else- she is pretty small to be fair. This conversation went on forever that night- but they finally decided to hide her.

My depression is made out of- the hug of a demon’s darkness the spices from a witch’s brew, the touch of a magician’s spell, and finally; a hyena’s wicked laugh. I felt failure flow through my body as blood trickled down my leg, desperate to reach the ground I found- Embarrassment curling round me, as my Mum called out to me at the school play, “Good luck honey, don’t worry.”​ Lazy bodies spin in their graves, as the moonlight eats away the consuming abyss of darkness. My depression can- Carve through bodies, like a knife eating into butter. Summon clouds of tears and darken the world to a dull grey thing. If I lost this- My life would turn into a brighter thing; no more getting bullied and no more, being called a baby. The world would open up for me, No more getting swallowed by darkness. I really hope this depression goes.

My depression is made out of- the hug of a demon’s darkness the spices from a witch’s brew, the touch of a magician’s spell, and finally; a hyena’s wicked laugh. I felt failure flow through my body as blood trickled down my leg, desperate to reach the ground I found- Embarrassment curling round me, as my Mum called out to me at the school play, “Good luck honey, don’t worry.”​ Lazy bodies spin in their graves, as the moonlight eats away the consuming abyss of darkness. My depression can- Carve through bodies, like a knife eating into butter. Summon clouds of tears and darken the world to a dull grey thing. If I lost this- My life would turn into a brighter thing; no more getting bullied and no more, being called a baby. The world would open up for me, No more getting swallowed by darkness. I really hope this depression goes.

The Ship of Horror

Suffocating silence deafens the bitter night,
as the front of the hull
bites through the choppy waves.

Screams from young children wrap round me,
as the murdering mist
blankets the floor, eating away the day light.

Captain shakes his drunken body,
as a ray of fireflies scares
the way through the perilous cave.

Bones carpet the deck,
blood drips like a left on tap,
and bodies lie, frozen, surrounded by consuming redness.

Portholes smile back at me,
as distant dying memories float away,
like a wax candle flickers on.

The freckled moon falls asleep behind the clouds,
as the ship sails on,
towards the blistering night.

The mast sighs in disappointment,
as the waves gnaw
at the hull of the boat.​

The Ship of Horror

Suffocating silence deafens the bitter night,
as the front of the hull
bites through the choppy waves.

Screams from young children wrap round me,
as the murdering mist
blankets the floor, eating away the day light.

Captain shakes his drunken body,
as a ray of fireflies scares
the way through the perilous cave.

Bones carpet the deck,
blood drips like a left on tap,
and bodies lie, frozen, surrounded by consuming redness.

Portholes smile back at me,
as distant dying memories float away,
like a wax candle flickers on.

The freckled moon falls asleep behind the clouds,
as the ship sails on,
towards the blistering night.

The mast sighs in disappointment,
as the waves gnaw
at the hull of the boat.​

Chapter 4 The Sealamander Despite my shaking legs, I turn and face the terrifying creature. Hannah(who is talking to the creature like it’s a dog) draws in her outstretched arms trying to walk away. I’m ready to run; I try to run- but my stupid feet are frozen still to the damp ground. A single ray of blinding sunlight smiles down onto the egg’s shells, sending a lightbulb to ping on. Like a fading memory, the sunlight is soon gone, rejecting the outside world, going back to sleep behind the dark clouds. Soon remembering why we were here, I look at the egg. I can’t take it, I just can’t. Steadily, I turn round, my face meeting the animal. Suddenly, it lies down and yawns. We seize the chance to get away- we’re free.

Our progress back to warmth is dreadfully slow: the sand is so saturated that our freezing feet sink into it. We trudge on through the consuming sand as the mist bites at my ankles. The wind whacks me in the face- leaving my hair standing up.” I hope no one finds the sealamander and its eggs.” Hannah says How can we keep the creature and the eggs safe? I hope they don’t feel disturbed! The rain has cleared now and the shimmering stars have studded the night sky. The moon watches the museum as I climb up the steps onto the pier. Suddenly, Hannah bombards me with ideas.

We stroll through the awakening street, begging for a wink of sleep. Barber Bill is setting out deck chairs- he waves to us and calls out” Up very early today you two, oh and by the way Marcus, you better book a appointment with me, your hair is like a mop.” Hannah sniggers. We carry on walking, all the shops are coming to life; the town too. Cars weave through the town, as seagulls’ fly down- obviously smelling the fish and chips. Their stick-like legs poking out underneath the cars bulky tires.

Finally, we reach the museum. I fumble in my pocket for the keys and then open up. Hannah sits down as I reach for the hot chocolate powder. “I will have a ginger tea please,” Hannah exclaims. I reach for the kettle as well then.

All day, Hannah’s nose has been stuck in tons of books. Ancient logs and records of old myths out at sea. Such as old boat crashes and anything else that had a link with the sealamander. Later that day, me and Hannah are looking over the old antiques when we come across and dark blue shell, freckled with lightning strike patterns. We look at each other; our gaze locks upon the egg shell again. this was an old piece of the sealamander egg.

That evening, we just sit and talk till it’s bed time. Our adventure is definitely not over! It had only just began.

Chapter 4 The Sealamander Despite my shaking legs, I turn and face the terrifying creature. Hannah(who is talking to the creature like it’s a dog) draws in her outstretched arms trying to walk away. I’m ready to run; I try to run- but my stupid feet are frozen still to the damp ground. A single ray of blinding sunlight smiles down onto the egg’s shells, sending a lightbulb to ping on. Like a fading memory, the sunlight is soon gone, rejecting the outside world, going back to sleep behind the dark clouds. Soon remembering why we were here, I look at the egg. I can’t take it, I just can’t. Steadily, I turn round, my face meeting the animal. Suddenly, it lies down and yawns. We seize the chance to get away- we’re free.

Our progress back to warmth is dreadfully slow: the sand is so saturated that our freezing feet sink into it. We trudge on through the consuming sand as the mist bites at my ankles. The wind whacks me in the face- leaving my hair standing up.” I hope no one finds the sealamander and its eggs.” Hannah says How can we keep the creature and the eggs safe? I hope they don’t feel disturbed! The rain has cleared now and the shimmering stars have studded the night sky. The moon watches the museum as I climb up the steps onto the pier. Suddenly, Hannah bombards me with ideas.

We stroll through the awakening street, begging for a wink of sleep. Barber Bill is setting out deck chairs- he waves to us and calls out” Up very early today you two, oh and by the way Marcus, you better book a appointment with me, your hair is like a mop.” Hannah sniggers. We carry on walking, all the shops are coming to life; the town too. Cars weave through the town, as seagulls’ fly down- obviously smelling the fish and chips. Their stick-like legs poking out underneath the cars bulky tires.

Finally, we reach the museum. I fumble in my pocket for the keys and then open up. Hannah sits down as I reach for the hot chocolate powder. “I will have a ginger tea please,” Hannah exclaims. I reach for the kettle as well then.

All day, Hannah’s nose has been stuck in tons of books. Ancient logs and records of old myths out at sea. Such as old boat crashes and anything else that had a link with the sealamander. Later that day, me and Hannah are looking over the old antiques when we come across and dark blue shell, freckled with lightning strike patterns. We look at each other; our gaze locks upon the egg shell again. this was an old piece of the sealamander egg.

That evening, we just sit and talk till it’s bed time. Our adventure is definitely not over! It had only just began.