Posted by gedneydroveend | Posted in Tilly | Posted on April 8, 2016
We created an A to Z of words that made us think about something we’ve learned about the Victorians, and used them for inspiration to write our blog posts. Some links are more obvious than others, but all of our posts are original, interesting and the result of our hard work! Enjoy š
The lamp hung limply in her hand, a single light source piercing the intense blackness. Wolfie- a pure bred husky- trotted beside, her silver coat reflecting the cool light. He stared up at her with wise, glossy eyes, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, dripping with drool. Finally, after a few minutes of ambling through the dark, she arrived.
At the edge of the forest, sat round an incandescent camp fire, were Ricky, JC and Kian. JC- whose name was actually Jonah Calfen- looked out into the starless night. All was silent… a twig snapped. All three friends froze, preparing to leg it, but relaxed again when Talula stepped into the firelight. JC glared at his little sister when Wolfie came into view.
“I told you he wasn’t to come!” he burst out angrily.
“I’m sorry, Jonah- I couldn’t resist,” replied Talula innocently. As if on cue, Wolfir rolled over onto his back showing his soft underbelly and staring at JC with sad blue eyes. Jonah’s heart ruled his head at that moment and he said to Talula:
“It’s ok- but, that means you’re going last.”
“Ok,” came the reply.
She seated herself on a log and awaited Ricky’s story. Each Friday, the four of them would gather around the fire and tell ghost stories…
“Ok,” Ricky began, glancing around the intently watching faces. “So, this story is about a girl called Freya and a ghost.” Seeing that they were already hooked, he continued. “There was once a girl called Freya, and she went to church one night and was scared by a ghost. The end.” He sat back, proud of his ‘amazing’ story.
Talula fought to contain her laughter but, when Kian and JC gave in to their tears of laughter, she couldn’t help but giggle at the offended boy. She cut in.
“My turn.”
“What!” exclaimed JC. “You’re going last!”
Ignoring her annoying brother, she pushed on.
“My story is about four children sitting around a camp fire telling ghost stories on a night just like this one…” she began. “The children spoke in soft whispers in the night under the pale eye of the moon…spoke of ghostly things, decrepit, haunted places and-” She dropped her voice to a low hiss. “-unicorn blood. A howl in the distance froze them in fear…” Talula paused, “But the flickering fire revealed nothing. Suddenly a translucent figure floated before them in a menacing manner. It wailed! Then- blackness.”
Talula’s words echoed around in their skulls and, hearts beating like drums, they sprinted home to their mothers- leaving her alone…
