Dory is a 10-year-old girl, who loves reading and writing. Dory and her friend Ilea works as a team to create this interesting story.
“Pass to me!” shouted Clara, jumping up and down next to the net. Ellie, who was surrounded by the boys, leaped up high and threw the basketball at Clara. Clara jumped up to catch the ball, but the ball was a few inches too high for Clara to reach and it flew past her, crashing into an oddly shaped window belonging to an ancient stone mansion that was rumored to be haunted.
“Oh no, not Mr Davies’ house!” cried Joseph. “Clara, why did you have to miss the ball?”
“It’s not my fault,” Clara replied angrily. “It’s Ellie’s fault, she should have threw it lower, everyone knows I’m short!”
“Well maybe if the boys didn’t crowd around me and actually played fair, that wouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t it?” protested Ellie. They started to get in an argument so loud they didn’t notice the tall, thin shadow that slowly picked up the ball and watched them, being unseeable to passers by. Only Timon wasn’t in the argument, and saw the ball rolling away.
“Hey guys, didn’t you see something take the ball away?” Timon asked. But nobody heard. “Guys, I think we should plan this logically,” Timon finally shouted. They stopped arguing, and looked at him.
“Then you go get the ball, Timon!” Joseph snapped. Clara and Ellie agreed, and watched Timon walk up to the window. When everyone looked inside, the ball was gone. The long shadow, now invisible, creeped away silently, accidentally dropping an old note, yellow with age.
“Hey guys, did you see that?” whispered Ellie. “A note just appeared on the ground from nowhere!” They negotiated on who would go in, and finally settled on all of them go together. The four of them tiptoed up to the window, Ellie first, and climbed through, taking care not to touch the broken glass.
The shadow loomed above them, not wanting them to break anything else. It crawled away, waiting for an opportunity to get them to leave, not noticing that the precious note had slipped away from it.
Ellie picked up the tiny note and brushed off the dust from it. They passed it down, one by one, which none of the children could read. It had burnt edges and rips that were sellotaped back on. Strange symbols were printed all across it. Suddenly, when Timon was inspecting it, he noticed that most of the symbols were ones which he could guess. It said, ‘Hear my words, hear my cry. When I tell thee to leave my cursed home, or feel the wrath from beyond!’
“What?” Timon lifted a brow in confusion. Staring back down at the aged paper, he scrunched it up and placed it in his pocket. An eerie breeze brushed past him and he shuddered.
“What is it Timon?” Ellie asked.
“It’s a just a random note.” Timon replied, hesitatingly but in a clear voice.
© 2018 Dalriada Books Ltd