I Went into a Mysterious House
I sat in a room of delicate souvenirs
and if you touched them, they would slither like snakes.
I sat in a room of miserable mouse
that whispered like people starting to hunt.
I sat in a room of glue sticks
and they stacked on the wall like a herd bees.
I sat in a room of sweets
and they smelt like perfume.
I sat in a room of rain
and the wind hummed.
Finally, I sat in a room of chocolate
and I eat all of it.
By Jessica
hotel full of rooms
Go and open the white door,
maybe you will see clouds pouring out cream
and doves sitting on a white sheet of paper.
Go and open the brown door,
maybe you will see trees crying
and bears chasing dogs.
Go and open the grey door,
you will see elephants stomping around
and seals sitting on pebbles.
Go and open the blue door,
you will see an artic whale
and vast ocean sky.
Go and open the green door,
you will see lots of broccoli
and frogs hiding under leaves.
Go and open the red door,
you will see blood dripping down the whales
and a rose peeling its petals.
By Jessica
I Went into a Mysterious House
I sat in a room of delicate souvenirs
and if you touched them, they would slither like snakes.
I sat in a room of miserable mouse
that whispered like people starting to hunt.
I sat in a room of glue sticks
and they stacked on the wall like a herd bees.
I sat in a room of sweets
and they smelt like perfume.
I sat in a room of rain
and the wind hummed.
Finally, I sat in a room of chocolate
and I eat all of it.
By Jessica
Prologue
In the daylight it would probably be a beautiful place filled with flowers and the sweet singing from the birds. However, in the darkness it was scary,there were finger-like shadows bouncing off the walls ready to grab me. In the day it would smell like the sweet smell of a picnic. But in the darkness of the night it stank of damp, mould and rotten body’s. In the daylight you can hear the sound of children’s laughter but at night time all you can hear is the mysterious distant sound of something, something bad, something out to get you. At night the bloodbath courtyard was somewhere you definitely did not want to be.
Mikamander
Prologue
Have you ever been to Summer-on-Sea in Blackpool? In summer, you probably went to near-by fairs and shows and spent the whole day screaming your socks off with joy. When you visited us you would have had a blast in our complimentary scorching waves, enjoyed a cone of ice-cream and been curious in rockpools to discover more sea-life. You probably dragged your friends and family to the spectacular seaside art gallery. What a beautiful place this is in the summer… Only in the summer.
However, in the winter, you may have shivered at the nipping, biting wind trying to tear into you. We dare you to try coming when the snow falls, wind and rain pelts, freezing the street as a consequence. You should try being here when the misty fog drifts over-head leaving an eerie vibe all around and you hear the whispers in the deep distance. No one visits us then. Even the locals and their pets steer clear from here… Some say, they have a very strong reason to.
Chapter 1
My name is Jessica Jumperson and I work in the seaside art gallery. Most people call me JJ. I am the gallery’s keeper. I dust the art, sweep the floors and polish the glass cases at the end of the day. Some people have told me that my job is horrible and I should quit but I enjoy it. I have a decent sized room where I stay when off work which has plenty blankets and a fire to keep me warm in the freezing winter blizzards. I sometimes get lonely at night, however, in the day, there is always something to do, someone to see or help in the summer. It isn’t so busy in the winter though and some days we don’t have anyone here to visit.
A young girl knocks on the glass window and blurts out, “let me in, you must let me in!” I glare at her frozen with shock and confused. It’s late, very late, we closed a few hours ago. She looks so small and freezing, she’ll catch a cold if she’s out there any longer. I open the window and she slithers in like a cat, desperate for heat. She stares towards me with stars in her eyes as she flops down and swiftly jumps onto a box of art pieces, quickly breathing to catch her breath. Within a second she cussed, “you need to hide me, NOW!”
Before I can continue with what happens, there is an old town story that you must know. It happened so long ago that barely anyone can remember the small details. Local legends tell of a deadly monster that crawls out of the sea and creeps through the streets at night in the mist. Apparently, it was a type of mander called a Mikamander, it is said that it only comes out in the deep foggy mist. It reeks of oil, fish and bones of the great sailors and has a massive tongue and tail to kill. It is said to leave a trail of black gooey sludge, like a massive eel with a tall frame and a massive mouth lurking for prey. Some say in the fog, the Mikamander scoured the streets groaning, scratching and gurgling. When the towns people heard this noise, they would lock their doors and windows and draw the curtains tight and put their kids to bed and tell them not to look outside.
Some say that the creature must have been looking for something. Some say it was hungry. Some say it sought out someone who stole their young who was stolen from them a long time ago. However, I have never heard anything through the thick fog, when the streets are consumed by the dark, the wind whistles a very eerie tune that could be mistaken for a mother calling for her baby.
“What or who are you hiding from?” I hiss at her. “What’s the big deal, are you alright?” I coo her.
“I’ve seen it! I seen it I swear!” She quickly spits, “keep your eyes peeled, don’t. Open. The. Curtains.”
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As a result of life
As a result of fox – empty coop and chickens run mad, butting beaks.
As a result of police – troublesome teens get tired and sore legs.
As a result of candles – my imagination try’s to deceive my mind.
As a result of pebble – rocks seem to be boulders.
As a result of coffee – I am tired the next morning.
As a result of snowfall – I never really get in home warm anymore.
As a result of ravenous people – pale skin, baggy eyes, stretched skin and hollow soul.
As a result of mice – I have no more cheese.
As a result of summer – pepper, burnt skin.
As a result of Vaseline – cocoa butter scent fills the air.
As a result of paint – Picasso pictures become alive.
As a result of bees – honey gets created.
THE EVIL RAINBOW DRAGON
His evil eyes,
Stares into the black sky.
His taught tail,
Touchers the glowing star.
Its rusted scales,
Scrape
As it slithers towards
You.
He unlocks his jaws
And a row of jagged
Teeth
Like ragged rocks
Clack and click.
The fierce dragon claws burrow into plants of gold
And silver coins.
Leathery brunch stretch
Catching the wing’s
Uplift, swirling into the sky.
Leaving behind,
A glimmer of fiery breath
A shimmer of fear.
It could be the shimmer of a fresh new book,
a beautiful crimson red cover and with a golden glazed spine
Or, mist coming from a delicate coffee from The Strawberry Cushion,
as big as Washingtons nose on Rushmore mountain.
Or, a mauve Thistle with a shamrock stem turning through the chilly breeze,
moving like a dancer.
It doesn’t have to be a stuffed plate of brilliant mouth-watering spaghetti,
crimson red pasta sauce,
sphered meat-balls with flavoursome veg on the side.
Or, the whispering whipping wind,
biting my skin with razor sharp teeth.
Or, the loud screech and scream of the trains
Sliding against the tracks, making my poor ears ache.
Be curious like a young me in the mall going,
to see Santa and get a peek at all the wonderful toys that look like an angel.
Or, the dancing stars at night,
lighting up a walk-way to the above,
the twinkling ball of fire is so majestic in the sky’s black coat in front is the ship of the night with its crewmates.
Just pay attention to the compact things that life has to offer,
when the balls of cotton in the sky make a heart thumping like a rabbit,
Take it as a sign as your opportunity to shine and be the best version of yourself when possible,
Grab resources from our earth and make it something magical.
YOU ARE THE BROKEN CAR IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD.JUST JESSIE
SCEAMING IN TEARS HUGGING MY MUM ON THE GRASS.
You are the working guy trying to fix the car in the middle of the road.
Sitting on the rocks my mum crying hoping every one is okay.
Walking back home like turtle’s my mum said its okay.
Walking back like ants me and my mum cried.
You are the angry mum for fighting in the back.
You are the rocky path getting walked on.
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