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Forest hill street was always the most normal place in the world. There was no nonsense and no peculiarities. The sun glazed the smooth tiles as the blazed high above them. Rows of fine and handsome houses lined the street. It was Saturday and many neighbours were labouring at their green lawns. Today was the best day of the week. One, I did not have school two,I would spend the day with my favourite neighbour Mrs Schwartz. Mrs Schwartz was a kind old lady that lived next door. She was something like the best grandmother in the world. She lived in a handsome house that stood out from all the other houses. It had fruits and roses bushes in its yard that shimmered with droplets of water in the morning. Inside the house was four bedrooms, Mrs Schwartz slepped in a different one each night. On a hot a summers day you could slip into Mrs Schwartz’s pool.
At nine o’clock I hurried next door. Mrs Schwatz seemed oddly strange. Something was out of place. I knew she was elderly but something was DEFINITELY wrong. “How is your Monday going dear?”she wheezed . “But it's Saturday Mrs Schwartz.”I exclaimed.
“We’ll get moving on dearie, let's have some tea.”She cheerfully,almost too cheerfully. She turned to pour some green tea into my porcelain cup. I could not help but notice her hands was shaking and at one point she nearly dropped the kettle.“Thanks.”I could only muster a weak,small smile.
Then things got worse. Mrs Schwartz began shaking, she fell to the floor. The shaking intensified.It looked like she was a alarm on a old-fashion clock. Her chest was heaving up and down. I phoned the ambulance hurriedly. Mrs Schwartz had al- ready passed out. When the ambulance arrived, a paramedic winked at me and said “You have done a good job.”
News of the incident spread quickly around Forest Hill street all thanks to the nosiest neighbour of all, Alice Romanov. Then a even bigger news struck Forest Hill street, Mrs Schwartz was selling her house for a nice life in the countryside. When the new neighbour moved in I sensed something wicked and evil that she radiated at everyone who dared to approach her. She boarded up the windows of her house, grew thorns and prickly pears a far cry from a “lawn”. She put a prickly fence around the pool. She always sat on the balcony waving and smiling (that’s what she calls a smile,) her face twists with an expression of disgust and delight.
She was a tall middle-aged lady that walked with her chin held high. Her hair was raven black and her eyes were purple. She walked around with a cat fur hand bag. She always claimed she was a foreign cat breeder. I assumed she was not.
Even the neighbours were talking about her. “She seems nice, the other day she was offering to mow my lawn!’’ Alice Romanov cried loudly. “But Miako Smith is very rude”noted Mrs Johnson bitterly. “ I don’t know what to think of her” Mr Johnson cut in. “But HER lawn is horrible!”Mr Johnson added.
The next day I went to school , there was lots of talk about her too.
At nine o’clock I hurried next door. Mrs Schwatz seemed oddly strange. Something was out of place. I knew she was elderly but something was DEFINITELY wrong. “How is your Monday going dear?”she wheezed . “But it's Saturday Mrs Schwartz.”I exclaimed.
“We’ll get moving on dearie, let's have some tea.”She cheerfully,almost too cheerfully. She turned to pour some green tea into my porcelain cup. I could not help but notice her hands was shaking and at one point she nearly dropped the kettle.“Thanks.”I could only muster a weak,small smile.
Then things got worse. Mrs Schwartz began shaking, she fell to the floor. The shaking intensified.It looked like she was a alarm on a old-fashion clock. Her chest was heaving up and down. I phoned the ambulance hurriedly. Mrs Schwartz had al- ready passed out. When the ambulance arrived, a paramedic winked at me and said “You have done a good job.”
News of the incident spread quickly around Forest Hill street all thanks to the nosiest neighbour of all, Alice Romanov. Then a even bigger news struck Forest Hill street, Mrs Schwartz was selling her house for a nice life in the countryside. When the new neighbour moved in I sensed something wicked and evil that she radiated at everyone who dared to approach her. She boarded up the windows of her house, grew thorns and prickly pears a far cry from a “lawn”. She put a prickly fence around the pool. She always sat on the balcony waving and smiling (that’s what she calls a smile,) her face twists with an expression of disgust and delight.
She was a tall middle-aged lady that walked with her chin held high. Her hair was raven black and her eyes were purple. She walked around with a cat fur hand bag. She always claimed she was a foreign cat breeder. I assumed she was not.
Even the neighbours were talking about her. “She seems nice, the other day she was offering to mow my lawn!’’ Alice Romanov cried loudly. “But Miako Smith is very rude”noted Mrs Johnson bitterly. “ I don’t know what to think of her” Mr Johnson cut in. “But HER lawn is horrible!”Mr Johnson added.
The next day I went to school , there was lots of talk about her too.