Tag Archives | Monica

Chapter 1

It was a cold and sunny afternoon in December. The snow was now turning into slush, while the beaming sun made shadows hide. 

 

 Jamie Jackson’s boots where being filled by slush, as he strolled down the alley-way. He was trying to see through the bright beaming sun to look at his checkpoint, but the sun just ignored her. He un-buttoned his grey duffle coat to feel the heat from the sun. 

 

He could see a tall black figure checking peoples passes, sending some of them through the silver speared gate where all the proper markets and tall houses stately stand, and some back down the steps to the little markets and bungalows. 

 

As he got closer, he could see everyone perfectly. He was now standing on the bottom step, as soon as he heard, “Next! “yelled the guard, clapping his hairy hands together to get people’s attention. He held out his hand to Jamie, and he handed his pass to the guard. He turned the key round in the big golden gate, and let him through.  

 

Now he was walking through the upper town. Here the streets where cleaner and wider, lampposts where glistening in the sunlight and people were chatting loudly not caring about the people around them. Jamie wished he was like the people here, but he knew it would never happen. 

 

He took a short cut through a dark alley, where the shadows where tall and spooky, and he passed a group of teenagers that where whispering into each other’s ears. He kept his head high and his back straight, just like his parents taught him to.  

 

He walked passed thinking they wouldn’t notice him but they did. And one of them started walking towards him and the others watching and giggling. 

 

“I’ll take that!” He said, grabbing his little parcel nicely wrapped in brown paper. Then he added, ” and any cash you have!” Jamie stood on his foot and ran off down the alley but hadn’t realised it was a dead end. 

 

The teenagers all walked like gangsters towards him slowly. Jamie stayed where he was frozen in fear. But then, he realised he was on a doorbell and one moment later the door opened and shut and he was inside. 

Slow-Mover

Slow-Mover 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

Why are you so slow 

As you hang from the trees? 

 

Sloth, sloth,

Why do you hide way up there, 

As high as the sky? 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

Who said you could wear acrylic nails 

As sharp as spears? 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

Why do you turn whenever I look, 

And slowly drift back off to sleep? 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

Why moan like the wind, 

Surely you’re happy as one snoozer can be? 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

Why is your fur as fluffy as a throw, 

You must be boiling in the beaming sun? 

 

Sloth, sloth, 

When did you tan 

So bad in the sun?

 

Question Poem

Question Poem

 

What are dark? A black pupil in the centre of an eye, a blank   tv screen waiting to be switched on and the mysterious outer space. 

What are bright? The glistening stars in the sky, a ball of flames floating in space and candles on a birthday cake moving with the soft breeze. 

 

What are soft? The white clouds in the deep blue sky, a scarlet red roses petals and a murre-cats fur in Edinburgh zoo. 

What are rough? Granite found by the cairngorm mountains, a brown wooden bench, and sloid brick built by nature. 

 

What are loud? A tigers roar,  an old kettle boiling and fuel of a car polluting the air. 

What are quiet? A candle burning, grass growing in a field and a laptop charging.

I Have…

I Have…

 

 

I have ridden an old bike before in the shimmering sunset on Troon prom, 

but I have never ridden a rocket to the misty moon through the unknowing universe. 

 

I have walked on green grass on solid ground in my glorious garden in Troon, 

but I have never strolled on the misty moon in outer space gazing at the glistening stars. 

 

I have touched the whistling waves of Troon horse shoe shaped beach, but I have never touched a single glowing candle flame, like St. Bernadette did. 

 

I have smelt smoke from a wood burning fire or a brilliant barbeque in the fabulous Fullarton Woods in Troon,

but I have never smelt the wet soggy fur of a penguin from the Artic Ocean. 

 

I have captured a fabulous scaly fish on a boat at the edge of Scotland, 

but I have never captured a flaming asteroid from space with one single lasso.     

Evacuee letter

Dear Ma, All my thanks for that crunchy. I gobbled it up on the long journey and it kept me full for most of the expedition. After what had seemed like years, we arrived somewhere in Russia. It is a big place near Moscow which is much bigger than our little place. It’s not like our street Hauptstrasse. It’s hardly a street, just one house in it. 

 

Once we got there, many people came crowding us and chose which children they would like to look after. It was like the Queen’s coronation. I was chosen first. I think because I was the cleanest girl there, but still I was very dirty. 

 

Anyway, I am being cared for by Miss Young who lives in a little cottage by the woods. The water comes from a little well by the stream. There’s a thin handle you twist and the bucket comes racing up! First thing, Miss Young made me wash in a little bucket by the stream because she wanted me to be a little bit cleaner. Then she gave me a steaming cup of tea. She speaks with a very soft voice but we are like best buddies. 

 

I have a dainty room by the living room. I can see right through the forest. At night, I can hear the fox’s scream and the hedgehogs hustle. I’ve  prayed so much for you and da to make sure you are both ok. Every morning, I wake to the thrushes song. It makes the most beautiful sound and song. There are little parrots in little cages and everything I say they repeat back to me. She also has a massive garden of fruit and veg. There aren’t any electrical things about like cars or trains, it is just such a peaceful place to live and I wish you were here to see it.  

 

You’ll never guess but Miss Young has a pet lamb called Freddie, and treats it like a dog, but he likes it. I have chores that I do every two days and the best is taking Freddie for a walk through the forest. I also have to feed the parrots lots of worms and sunflower-seeds. First thing in the morning, she makes me some warm porridge with a dumpy of milk. 

 

Moscow is a massive village and luckily I live at the end of it on the hills. There are about 1992 houses. They have little stone pathways leading to the front doors. They are made from limestone and they glow in the sun. The forest is different shade of green. It’s nothing like home. 

 

Every morning, Miss Young sends me to a big school in the middle of the city. I carry my gas mask like I promised. I get the school bus there and it takes about thirty minutes to get there. Lots of people go there. Everyone prays for an hour for the country and I kneel on a cushion in the middle of the classroom, with my chalk board and chalk. I’m trying so hard with maths and writing. 

 

We have the choice to eat lunch outside or inside and we each get a cushion to bring out with us. Sometimes Mrs Young sends me with a tub of salad and with bits of cheese blocks as a treat. Lots of people climb over the school fence and jump into the field and steal vegetables for a treat to put in their lunch box. I’ve seen them stealthily putting them into their lunch box. I tried doing it and I put it back but somehow got me in lots of trouble. The boys and girls here are fine. They’ve taught us all sorts of things.  

 

I hope you and da are alright ma. I think about you every day. I really hope da soon kills sir ****** and comes home. I’ll write later. Hope you can write to me soon. 

 

Your daughter-Amy.

The Secret Poem

The Secret Poem  

 

My courage is made from- 

The cheering of the crowds, 

The screams of a bell amongst the clouds, 

The cheers of leaders, 

The sun’s boa tie, 

As red as poison. 

 

I found it- 

Locked in a pollens scent,  

Knelt in a secured blossom, 

Caged in pink petals, 

Squashed by magical dust 

Where the beetles creep. 

 

This courage can- 

win races of gold and beauty, 

Heal the wounds of a broken soul, 

Surround the claps of hands, 

In a strand of hair, 

and build golden trophies 

Till they are won 

By an athlete. 

 

If I lost this secret- 

Even the quiet bee pollinating a flower 

Would buzz…. 

The Highland Ride

The Highland Ride  

 

Noises fill the sea. 

If you pause and listen, 

You too can hear the running, rushing ripples 

Of the little waves dancing on the sea. 

 

Cheerful tunes play; 

And raindrops fall, 

Like bits of confetti 

Twirling like a ballerina 

Guiding the journey ahead. By the beach, 

 

The seals whale 

Like dying dogs 

While the lighthouse light shimmers like the sun. 

The tartan sails whither in the wind 

As if lightning struck. 

 

The sun sets like dying flames. 

The moon rises as afternoon falls. 

The anchor drops like people sinking. 

Captains stare at the glistening stars 

Where pilots fly across the sky. 

 

With wide eyes through binoculars 

They gaze at silver stars winking, 

Watch the birds glide across the sky, 

 

As the Highland Ride 

Glides like a bird across the 

Moonlit sky.  

The Highland Ride

The Highland Ride  

 

Noises fill the sea. 

If you pause and listen, 

You too can hear the running, rushing ripples 

Of the little waves dancing on the sea. 

 

Cheerful tunes play; 

And raindrops fall, 

Like bits of confetti 

Twirling like a ballerina 

Guiding the journey ahead. By the beach, 

 

The seals whale 

Like dying dogs 

While the lighthouse light shimmers like the sun. 

The tartan sails whither in the wind 

As if lightning struck. 

 

The sun sets like dying flames. 

The moon rises as afternoon falls. 

The anchor drops like people sinking. 

Captains stare at the glistening stars 

Where pilots fly across the sky. 

 

With wide eyes through binoculars 

They gaze at silver stars winking, 

Watch the birds glide across the sky, 

 

As the Highland Ride 

Glides like a bird across the 

Moonlit sky.  

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

 

Two days later and we are in Kari’s flat by the beach. We sit in silence, taking small slurps of tea, my favorite drink. Outside, fog was seen covering the beach and the town. Inside, we are warm by the fire place all snuggled up in blankets. However, Kari has ideas, big ones. ” Jack, come on, you have to help me!” Here we are, arguing again. I think. ” I reckon I know where it lives.”

 

It turns out that Kari has spent the whole night searching in the bitter cold, hanging around the beach looking up and down the whole beach. She claims to have seen claw marks on pieces of wood, and interesting footprints on the damp sand, just like the exact ones we found at the forest.  

 

I secure the museum and make sure that all the windows are shut and curtains are closed and that the lights are off before I finish my shift. This time I make sure that we have head torches and that I’m wrapped up in lots of lairs. The fog gets thicker and thicker across the town and the beach. Its rather like being trapped in our own horror story. We follow the paths to the beach, till we find a sign that says do not go any further than this, please turn back! For Kari that just seems to just carry on walking and forget about the sign. I know that I can’t leave her alone on a beach, she could get loosed, and I would be blamed for it, so I find myself following her. She’s very brave in a good and bad kind of way. Carefully, we made our way round the beach, encircles by fog. 

 

I hadn’t believed Kari, but the footprints are quite obvious. There are two sets of prints, one leading across the sand and into the entrance of a pitch black cave. The other set of footprints lead to the sea. “Come on! Let’s seize the moment!” Said Kari quietly encase the cave had something inside, which it obviously has. They were both clicking on their head torches. I’m not really feeling to seizing anything right now, but once again, I have a bad feeling that Kari is leading me into danger! 

 

The cave was pitch black. Totally dark. It smells of rotten sea weed and crushed bones. Big stone walls where shining in the torchlight with big deep claw marks on each wall. My heart was thumping so fast as if I was going to have a heart attack., looking side to side for anything suspicious. Just as I’m wondering that there is nothing and starting to feel a bit calmer, but at that moment it is then that Kari finds it. There, in a little nest, built out of fisherman’s bones and sticks and feathers, is a large shining egg. We stop and gaze at it. The daggermander has an egg. 

 

In that moment, I feel a shiver of guilt. We should not be here. “Let’s go now, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” I whispered, tapping Kari’s shoulder and turning to make my way to the beach. But our way was blocked. Something is moving through the darkness from the entrance of the cave. It doesn’t sound pleased. We’ve heard it in the past, the low growl, a purr kind of throat, the steady, heavy footsteps. We both shine our torches forwards and there it is. The daggermander! Kari steps forward; and step  back.     

Daggermander Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

My name is Jack Black and I work at the wonderland museum. Most people call me midblack. I work as a custodian in the museum. I clean things and polish stuff and scrub windows and tidy up at the end of the day. Somone once told me that it is an atrocious job, but I like it. I rent a small flat in the city center and has a broken bed inside it. I’m lonely at night but am very busy during the daylight because it is especially busy in the summer. It is not so busy in the winter and only five times a week no one visits. 

 

Usually at night, a girl chucks stones at the broken window and whispers, “Oi, let me in!” I gaze at her wondering what would be the right thing to do. It is almost midnight and the museum is closed. She looks frozen to death, so I opened the window and she slivered in like a snake desperate to be inside. She stares at me with dark pith black eyes as she perched on the window ledge, she says, “Hide me!”     

 

Before I continue with continue with what happens next, there is one story about our street I should probably tell you about. It happened so long ago, well, not so long ago, just three weeks ago, not many people remember exactly what I told them. Most people believe that there is a local legend that a monster fly’s out of the sea into a particular street but no one knows why. Apparently, it is a type of variety known as a Mander, also known as the Daggermander, and only comes out at midnight out of the dark sea. It smells like clam shells and ships wood. It left claw marks on the wall of the flat as if it were an angry badger. They say in the dawn or at midnight it howls like a wolf. When the locals here it, they shut the doors and close the curtains. 

 

Some say the creature must have been searching for something, but no one knows what for. Some say it could have been searching for food. Some say it was looking for his own kind. I’ve, never seen it in sunny weather, but, when the street lights turn on, it shows in the pitch black night. 

 

” Why on earth do you need to hide at this time of night?” I whispered back to her. ” What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve seen it!” She exclaimed, ” Hide behind something, quick!”