From the top of the Gala tree, they spied a mousy girl with nut-brown hair stumbling her way through Mr. Simmons’ apple orchard. She was, as Oscar presumed, walking home from the Olympia Preparatory School up Old Mill Road. Alphonse, Oscar’s brother, suspected she was a loner, given her lack of companions. As the girl approached their treetop hideout, it seemed as if she was magically led through the grassy grove in a series of clumsy zigzags by a silvery, leafless branch with a fat, red band around the bottom. The afternoon sunlight flickered against a pair of tinted lenses covering her eyes as she made her advance towards the tree.
“What on earth are those?” questioned Alphonse. “Shields, of course!” explained his brother. Alphonse continued his interrogation by asking about the “white twig”, and why it swung through the grass, carrying the girl along with it. “That white twig,” Oscar corrected, “is a saber. And it’s probably scouting for enemies to eradicate.” Alphonse felt crackles of electric anxiety radiate through his spine, causing the hairs on all six of his stubby green legs to stand on end. “Indeed, the life of a caterpillar is quite terrifying,” he thought to himself.
The girl finally reached the tree, and after a hearty thwack! of her walking stick, Oscar and Alphonse hit the ground harder than a dozen of eggs dropped on concrete. The girl suddenly cried out as a ruddy Gala apple struck her on the face and sent her dark glasses spinning into the thick grass
She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.
The door shut behind him and Georgaina walked down the steep, grassy hill. She was near the bottom when a pain, familiar to her, ripped through her abdomen like a dull, serrated knife. She collapsed, gasping for breath and clutching her stomach. Slowly, after what felt to her like hours, the pain went from a sharp knife to a dull ache. Tears had filled her eyes and she blinked them back as she stood cautiously, not trusting her own legs. She took a deep breath, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, determined to get to the forest that lay around the hill. Her head pounded, but she figured she would worry about it
She slowly lifted her vision from the ground up towards the view of the forest. As she moved her head from side to side she looked in wonder at her surroundings. All she could see expanding right in front of her eyes was a beautiful crystal clear water hole with waterfalls rushing in from either side. Behind this amazing waterhole towards the right there was yet another exit out of the forest, although this one seemed different … it lead towards her street that she last remembered living on. Annabel seemed very relieved to see this exit but there was something that seemed to stop her walking out into her freedom. The thought of leaving the forest meant she would say goodbye to her parents for good. Annabel couldn’t bear to do this; she couldn’t live with herself if she knew there was something else she could do that might reunite her with her
Her long brown hair tied back in tight bun and brown dirty dress and matching wool jumper that is two sizes too big. She heads down towards the running creek the bank starting to flatten. Dead trees creating hurdles and the thrones pricing her numb feet. The slug becomes deeper as she get closer to the water. Animals in the night scratching and yelling, light hitting her left shoulder… ‘RUN’. The only way out is the creek and he is getting closer the water reaching her lower back sending shivers up her spine. Wading through the water she sees it. The bag and the world has gone dark again silent and serine she scrambles up the other side of the bank pulling the bag with her. A big oak fallen about 15 Meters away she knows by the unsettling silence he’s not far away. Pulling the bag on her damp back she crawls to the hollow tree and lays down behind it. She holds her breath for what feels like fifteen minutes not moving a single tired muscle in her body. After about half an hour more of twilight and damp forest floor she realises he’s given up. Not for good but defiantly for
“Come on,” Emma said and took off, sprinting down a path behind Isabel. I stumbled along, leaping over tangled vines and hurdling bushes until my side hurt. Finally, the woods fell away, and we started across a meadow. To the left, ogres were marching up a dusty trail toward a row of caves high on a hill. Gray smoke rose from the fires that lined the cavern mouths. To the right, I could just make out Cotton and three green witches. As I got closer, I saw that one had her long, lanky green fingers clamped around his neck. He was suspended about three feet off the ground, frantically clicking his clogs together
One day, during a fierce storm, Belle’s father stumbles upon the fabled tree—only to become ensnarled by
Aliea grins while picking up the stick. She always had a strange pull to gore, she knew she would enjoy this. She speeds toward the adult, her hair sticking to her sweaty face, caught in her nose, mouth and eyes. The adult keeps snarling and charging at her, grunting and wheezing with every step his fat, greasy body makes. Dead plants and sticks rake Aliea’s legs, she sucks in air, trying to ignore the pain in her side. She presses her free hand to her side and keeps on charging, faster, faster, faster is all she can think about. She grips the stick tighter in her hand, the bumps and cracks imprinting in her palm. Aliea starts to slow down, her side throbbing with pain and her legs stinging from the cold of the night, scrapes, bruises and cuts. She grits her teeth,
Her mother started crying and father had tears in his eyes. They were all smiling, then Alli’s nephew’s came running into her arms. They were all laughing and smiling as tears of joy ran down each of their faces. Alli looked back and smiled, Amelia returned the gesture with a smile of her own and waved. She began walking back to her own house, when she noticed something, the sun was still setting. It was late noon just as it had been in the forest. But she had a more important question. “Back their. With the sword thing. How did I? It was a
Out of nowhere, the perfect blue sky day suddenly turned into a thunderstorm. Lightning and energy crackled the air, supercharging it. There was a burst of light and then, standing in front of her, was a six foot tall, white-robed figure with a neat beard, holding a staff about three feet long and shaped like a lightning bolt. Autumn had read about this person in her tedious history classes, except, he wasn’t a person.
As the occasion came to a close and the lock of hair was adrift, Belinda desired to withdraw to her dwelling. During the passage home she was brimming with emotion. She was angry, and resentful, and began plotting revenge. Gradually her emotions changed to humiliation and heartache. A little time passed and tears began to billow down her soft cheeks. She realized the events of the day and it was too much for her. Suddenly, she was startled by a flutter in her pocket. She reached down, while wiping her tears into the hem of her dress. As she gently lifted the overlap, a sprite dashed out! It bounced across her lap and straight up across the sky where it disappeared. Belinda was disoriented for a moment. “Could this have been one of those inhabitants
She lured them into her delicious house made of desserts. The children were so excited about the house created by pure sugar that they did not pay attention to the witch’s intentions.” “The witch planned on eating the children after she ate every last piece of them all because they were not aware of their surroundings.” Ollie and Oscar began to laugh as loud as twenty sirens. “Oh Odette, don’t be paranoid, that story is a fib.” So Odette listened to Oscar and Ollie and began to sing once again. A few hours passed by and Odette had completely forgotten about her worry. Suddenly, Smokey ran up the tree quietly, but in a hurry. Smokey gulped Oscar and Ollie up in one bite. Before he could get to Odette who was sitting on the far end of the branch, she saw him and took flight. Odette said, “I knew I was right, I should have paid attention to my instincts and looked around better.” Odette found another tree to sit on, crying for the loss of her friends. But Odette didn’t realize that Smokey’s feast was not at an
She slowly turned around and began limping back up the mountainous terrain. I couldn’t bear to watch this kind old lady begin a dangerous journey without someone or something accompanying her. My instinct was to help her, I searched for the nearest stick that was around her waist height. I found a branch that was the perfect size for her and quickly followed the trail of semi-crunchy squashed leaves that she had left behind. I hopped around her, stopping her in the middle of her pathway and gave her the stick.
An eruption of clapping and cheering loomed in a little girl’s ears as she gleefully skipped down a cement sidewalk. Her right hand was engulfed in her mother’s large, soft fingers. Her left tightly gripped onto a shiny helium balloon, its crimson orb catching the light of the afternoon sun. After checking up on her rouge treasure, the girl looked up to her mother, a giggle escaping her lips.
“Uh, yeah! Sure!” When I knew I was l alone I ran all over town looking for the source of the snow. I finally found it at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. I waited a couple of seconds before saying something but before I could, someone spoke.
In that moment, a wind which could rival the force of a hurricance surrounded the boy, and the heavy mist which had encompassed the forest began losing its density. The leaves and shrubs around the area were picked up and tossed with surprising precision. Lying beyond the chaos was a human woman cluthing a branch of a nearby tree, hanging on for dear life. In her grasp also lied a tome which any commoner would see as archaic.