A dramatic story inspired by Charles Dickens!

 This is another story written by one of my students recently.  It was inspired by the dramatic opening chapter of 'Great Expectations' by Charles Dickens.

The harsh winter breeze spun round the town. I thought maybe my father and mother would be begging for happiness and warmth but in the heavens they were just laughing at me.

I scraped my hands on the smooth stone of my sister ‘s grave, Dorine.

My nana tells me that she wants me to call them Mr and Mrs Shearling but my aunt says mama and papa are better.

I wish that I  could have seen them .All of them. But they hated me just as much as nana does and so when I was born they killed themselves, just to get away from me.

Miss Marling, my neighbour, told me to visit their graves so I did.

Mum's grave was the biggest and cleanest. It was made of pure solid pearls and iron. It had pure gold writing. There was also a small one far in the meadow on its own. So I went to it and on it said :      Charlie Mongento Shearling  (my name!!!??) 1948 to ???

I was flabbergasted. I was bewildered. I was intergalactic-confused. Why was there a grave for me???

But before I could do anything a man leaped on to me as I got hit badly in the back and head.

“ What are you doing here???”

“I um . . . I um . . . was abou-”

“Go now!!!” he shouted “ or I will kill you and fill in that grave of yours and put 2oo2 instead of ???” 

So I ran. I ran as fast as I could to home only to find out something else was waiting for me . . . 

It was only about eight o’clock when I reached home. 

Auntie Natasha was on the living-room floor, not crying, not texting but still. Stiller than I have ever seen before. And a petrified look was right smack on her face!

“  Auntie  ??? Auntie Natasha??? Natasha Mold what is wrong!!!???” 

 I felt her chest, warm and a rapid heartbeat, she was alive. But she seemed to be looking away from me. Not at the tv, not at my amazing new lamp I made her at school but at the basement door.

I looked at the basement door. It was closed but a beaming red light was rushing out of it. And before I could change my mind on staring and run, a bang was heard. 

BANG!!!

A bang! 

A bang that was louder than any heard before. The bang then softened and the next thing was footsteps!

“ He has come.” 

Auntie Natasha said.

And then a footstep.

Footstep .

 

“He . . . “

Footstep

“Who is h-”

Footstep. 

“He has come.”

Footstep.

“He has come.”  

Footstep.

 I got worried and anxious. So anxious that when the basement door creaked open I fell. I fainted. And soon everything turned black . . . 

By Sara