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There was nowhere to hide. Snip. Snip. Snip. The blades came closer, reflecting the bright moonlight. I took a step back only feeling brick wall behind me. It was a dead end. Snip. Snip. Snip. Slowly, the man turned his green goggles at me and stopped abruptly. He peered curiously into my eyes like a fortune teller would. Then he took off his mask.
2 weeks earlier...
Autumn arrived without a change. The golden brown leaves crunched beneath my feet as I stood in front of our new house.It was white, ironically reflecting the age of the neighbourhood. A verandah framed the wooden structure of our two story house. A small breeze whipped some leaves onto our doorstep. I crouched down as I suddenly saw a letter on the gate. It was a flyer for a sewing workshop. I picked it up curiously and headed back inside.
The shop was not that far from our house. I pinned it onto the fridge secretly hoping that Mum would notice it. A voice called from my bedroom. "Ari! Look there's a new neighbour!" I hurried inside to see my twin sister staring out the window. The house in front of us had been put up for sale for a very long time. I wondered how desperate the agent was to have found such an odd client. The man was old and frail but his wrinkles told times of adventure. I looked at him and racked my brains to where I'd seen that face before. And then I lit up when I recognised him to be the man on the sewing flyer.
His arrival was not acknowledged by anyone. It was only when the snipping started did people start to realise. Mrs Beekman lived next door and she was the perfect stereotypical grandma. She was the first person who welcomed us and she left baked muffins at our doorstep. Mrs Beekman was also the first person who was troubled by the snipping noises. They started getting louder through the days and moaning could be heard. I didn't really pay attention to it and many other neighbours swatted it away as well. It was the day of the sewing workshop and I was very excited. My Mum agreed to take me and my sister to it. When we got there, I walked inside and immediately recognised the person in the shop. Sure enough, it was the man who had just moved in.
He introduced himself as Mr Hockelm. He seemed to be a flower fanatic because everywhere in his studio were posters and books about the language of flowers. In a corner of the room was a glass box of highly crafted delicate scissors. After Mr Hockelm had finshed explained the embroidery lesson, he went into a room upstairs. Then I heard the snipping again.
I got out of my seat and excused myself to the bathroom. I crept up the stairs, the dusty railings making my palms sweaty. When I reached the top of the winding steps, I saw a room filled with a green glow. A deep voice boomed from inside. "Find the girl. I sent you here for a reason!" The figure inside shrunk in shame as the voice continued to talk. "If she is not here by midnight I will dispose of you Hemlock."
My heat skipped a beat. Hemlock? letters jumbled in my head as I replaced the letters in my mind. H, O, C, K, E, L, M. Mr Hockelm. I quickly ran back down the stairs when something caught my eye. A small watercolour card was dropped on the step and I reached to pick it up. A green flower was embroidered onto the paper. Underneath read 'Hemlock. A poisonous plant symbolising death'.
2 weeks earlier...
Autumn arrived without a change. The golden brown leaves crunched beneath my feet as I stood in front of our new house.It was white, ironically reflecting the age of the neighbourhood. A verandah framed the wooden structure of our two story house. A small breeze whipped some leaves onto our doorstep. I crouched down as I suddenly saw a letter on the gate. It was a flyer for a sewing workshop. I picked it up curiously and headed back inside.
The shop was not that far from our house. I pinned it onto the fridge secretly hoping that Mum would notice it. A voice called from my bedroom. "Ari! Look there's a new neighbour!" I hurried inside to see my twin sister staring out the window. The house in front of us had been put up for sale for a very long time. I wondered how desperate the agent was to have found such an odd client. The man was old and frail but his wrinkles told times of adventure. I looked at him and racked my brains to where I'd seen that face before. And then I lit up when I recognised him to be the man on the sewing flyer.
His arrival was not acknowledged by anyone. It was only when the snipping started did people start to realise. Mrs Beekman lived next door and she was the perfect stereotypical grandma. She was the first person who welcomed us and she left baked muffins at our doorstep. Mrs Beekman was also the first person who was troubled by the snipping noises. They started getting louder through the days and moaning could be heard. I didn't really pay attention to it and many other neighbours swatted it away as well. It was the day of the sewing workshop and I was very excited. My Mum agreed to take me and my sister to it. When we got there, I walked inside and immediately recognised the person in the shop. Sure enough, it was the man who had just moved in.
He introduced himself as Mr Hockelm. He seemed to be a flower fanatic because everywhere in his studio were posters and books about the language of flowers. In a corner of the room was a glass box of highly crafted delicate scissors. After Mr Hockelm had finshed explained the embroidery lesson, he went into a room upstairs. Then I heard the snipping again.
I got out of my seat and excused myself to the bathroom. I crept up the stairs, the dusty railings making my palms sweaty. When I reached the top of the winding steps, I saw a room filled with a green glow. A deep voice boomed from inside. "Find the girl. I sent you here for a reason!" The figure inside shrunk in shame as the voice continued to talk. "If she is not here by midnight I will dispose of you Hemlock."
My heat skipped a beat. Hemlock? letters jumbled in my head as I replaced the letters in my mind. H, O, C, K, E, L, M. Mr Hockelm. I quickly ran back down the stairs when something caught my eye. A small watercolour card was dropped on the step and I reached to pick it up. A green flower was embroidered onto the paper. Underneath read 'Hemlock. A poisonous plant symbolising death'.