Published writing

I was adopted. I hate the thought of it, that Ann and Tim lied to me. Saying that they were my parents, when they weren’t. So I broke my promise. ***** “You used to be the kindest girl, Ellie, what happened?” Silence. “Ellie, answer me.” Silence. “Ellie!” Silence. This was my tactic. When people wanted me to answer a question, or admit to something, I would stay silent. Then after about three attempts, they give up, and leave me alone. It works every time. So, I count to three in my head, and just like that, she leaves, slamming the door behind her. Once her footsteps had faded down the hallway, I shuffled around to face the window. I pressed on the slab of wood underneath the windowsill, a drawer comes out, inside are photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, and an old, rusted heart locket. They’re evidence, things that might help me find my real parents. Not my fake parents. Not Ann and Tim, who both are sleeping happily in their graves thinking that I still don’t know. I lay out the contents of the drawer on my bed. I opened one of the envelopes, it contained 5 photographs, all taken about 10 years ago, the mum suspects. I pick up the first one, Brianna Reid, who went missing 9 years ago. I stare at the photograph, nothing about her looks like me, she just feels so familiar. “SUPPER TIME!” ***** I have no friends. I sit alone. I know I don’t deserve friends. And those who have been friendly to me, I’ve treated like dirt. I’m fine though. I have my siblings. They always talk about their friends, and that’s the closest thing I’ve had to experiencing real friendship. But they never arrived at the table today. I sat alone. Feeling truly left out. Even my own family hate me. Well, I guess they’re not my family, but they were lied to as well, so, to me they are. Well, they were. ***** That night, my eldest “sister” Kate, came to my room. “Ellie?” I stay silent. “Fine. If this is what you want. To be rude to your family, as well as everyone else.” “You’re not my family!” I shout. Kate stares at me in utter disgust, “Wow. You know you are a truly horrid person. This is why we didn’t sit with you at dinner, you don’t even care what we talk about. You just sit there. Doing nothing. Everyone in this orphanage hates you, you are the most unlikable person I know. Goodnight.” She leaves. I’ve had the same “conversation” with almost everyone who lives here. I’m used to it. And I don’t really care. ***** I take that back, I do care. Every time someone comes to tell be that they hate me, I go. To the attic, where no one will find me. So once the lights are turned out in the hallway, I open the door. Check for carers, then tiptoe down until I reach the door that says, STAFF ONLY, ORPHANS NEED PERMISSION TO ENTER. I take a bobby pin out of my hair and stab it into the keyhole. I move the bobby pin around until I hear a click. The door swings open and I walk in, silently closing it behind me. I run up the stairs and walk towards my corner, the one I curl up and cry in. But something else has taken up my spot. A mirror, shining bright and silver, lighting up the room with its luminescent glow. I walk towards it, it was beautiful. Intricate designs were carved into the golden frame. My arm instinctively reaches out, the silver glass moves as I touch it, it’s cold, like water with ice in it. Then, as if something has grabbed the hand touching the mirror, I am pulled. “Let go of me!” I shout, “Do you know who I am, I can make your life miserable!” Creeeeaaaakkkk. I curse under my breath; the carers must have heard my shouts. Distracted by the ever-approaching footsteps, I stop pulling away from the mirror, and I am dragged through. ***** Everything disappeared, I was aware of the room around me, I just couldn’t see it. The only visible thing was the darkness that hung around me like a bad smell. That’s when I saw it, tiny speckles of pollen, I shuffled backwards. But nothing I could do would make the pollen go away. I inhaled breathing in the tiny pollen speckles, my nose began to itch, then … I sneezed. The darkness around me abruptly vanished, I was in the attic room again, or was I. I peeked through the crack in the wall, outside was a beautiful meadow, with a variety of small flowers. I reached out to touch one, my hand the size of a small stone compared to the flower, I pulled my hand back in shock. “WHAT!!!!!!!!” “Shush” I turned around. The boxes in the attic room were glaring at me. I glared right back, that usually makes them leave. But it didn’t. They continued glaring with their oversized cartoon eyes. So, I continued glaring. Then someone screamed in my ear. And I turned round, “SHUT UP!!!!!” Then I realised the scream came from the 5 rats I’d seen in the attic room, except these ones had wings and were screaming …. Um, I mean, singing …... Opera. I blocked my ears and closed my eyes and tried to wake up. But I couldn’t, because this was real, I could never wake up from this. “Uh hum. Are you Mistress Eleanor Wattle of the Muttleberry Orphanage?” A strongly accented voice spoke. I looked up to see one of the boxes standing in front of me, holding a scroll of glowing paper. But unlike the other boxes, this one was wearing a navy-blue uniform and a captain’s hat, on the right pocket of the box’s jacket was a golden thread reading the letters: R.G.A.M.O.T.E “What’s rgamote?” I say, ignoring the question the box had just asked. The line on it’s face bent to create a smile; it was obviously proud of whatever R.G.A.M.O.T.E. “Royal Guard and Messenger of the Empress” I nodded. I really didn’t care. “Um.” The box said, interrupting my thoughts, “Your Mistress Eleanor Wattle, right?” I shook my head, “No, I am just Eleanor Harris. Not a mistress, and my last name is not Wattle.” “Alright. Well, I’ll still have to take you to the Empress, because if you’re not Mistress Eleanor Wattle, then you’re an intruder, and those are forbidden.” The box turned and began walking, then turned around when it realised, I wasn’t following. “Why aren’t you coming?” I glared at it, “I’m not going anywhere with a talking box.” “Suit yourself,” The box said, “But if we don’t confirm that you are Mistress Eleanor Wattle within the next hour, then you will die, so if you want a chance at living, you must follow me.” I told myself he was lying, but from what I’d seen so far, it could be true. So, I stood up and followed the box. We walked towards a corner in the room where there were millions of tiny class bottles of a sparkling powder. Then he began searching through them all, making no noise at all, everything around was silent, the rats had stopped singing opera, and the boxes had stopped chatting. “Um, Mr Box?” “Shhhhh. They’ll here you.” I stopped, wondering why I wasn’t allowed to talk. So, I stayed silent. Plus, I had nothing to say. Then the box handed me one of the glass bottles and whispered in my ear, “pour it in your hands.” So, I did. “Now rub your hands together.” So, I did. “Now sprinkle it on the ground around you.” So, I did. The glittery powder floated up creating a barrier around me, then dropped back down. I looked around. I was in a hallway, the walls, floor and ceiling were covered in a royal blue velvet, lined with gold. I looked up and down the hallway, it seemed endless. And I couldn’t see the box. I panicked, I had no idea where I was and how to get back to the familiarity of the dark attic room back at the orphanage. Pop! I turn to see the box in the navy-blue uniform appear a few metres away from me. “Sorry about that, Mistress Wattle. Now, lets get going, we’ve already wasted half an hour.” “Harris, not Wattle, Harris.” I said sternly. The box ignored me. I began walking down the endless hallway. After walking for about 20 minutes, I got tired of the silence. “I like your moustache.” I say, completely regretting it. I don’t give compliments. I hope that the box didn’t hear me. The box turned to face me, eyes gleaming with happiness, “Why, thank you, it’s just started growing.” I smile. Why did I every bother breaking the silence. “Here we are.” The said, stopping in front of a door with the words: Royal Greeting/Meeting Room Writing in golden letters. The box reaches into its back pocket go pull out a ring of keys. All of them different shapes and sizes. The box flicks through the keys until it picks out a blue key that was shaped like a crown. The box puts the key in the oddly shaped keyhole and opens the door. The room was draped in red velvet, in one corner of the room there was a table with tea and cookies on it. In the middle of the room was a throne, tall, with red and yellow jewels sewn into the edges. On the other side of the room was a woman. She was dressed in a long velvety gown with long sleeves and a cape, she was staring out the small window. “Your majesty?” The box spoke. The woman turned to face us. Her smile gleamed, lighting up the room. “Hello?” The box bowed down and then glanced at me, so I bowed as well. “This girl came into our world today, she claims that she is Eleanor Harris, not Mistress Eleanor Wattle.” The woman turned to face me, I glared at her. “I understand. Come here child.” I didn’t want to, but I did. I walked up to her, she held up my hand a traced a symbol on in with her fingers, sparks flickered, and I stepped back abruptly. The woman turned to the box, “It’s the right girl.” Then she turned to me, “Now, child, you have been brought here to help us.” “I’m not helping you!” I shouted. “We’ll see.” The woman said, sitting down on her thrown, “There is a darkness, at random points in the day it begins to control the citizens of the Empire. The darkness uses them, to find information, about the whereabouts of the castle, so that it can come and destroy The Heart and take away all the joy and happiness in the world, both mine and yours. Your job is to find the bearer of darkness and stop them from making the world miserable.” I scowled, “Why would I ever help you?” The woman smiled, “Because I am Empress Liliana June, and I know all the secrets of the universe, including who your birth mother is.” I froze. I stared straight into the shimmering eyes of the Empress, they twinkled in the light from the chandelier, she wasn’t lying. I nearly burst inside; this woman new who my mother was. But I said nothing. I wasn’t going to risk my life just to find out who’s child I am, even if I’ve been searching for 4 whole years for the answer, I don’t care. ******* We wait almost a whole hour before the uniformed box spoke up, “The sun is setting.” I glanced out the window. The sun was orange on the horizon, like the yolk of an egg, only half of it was visible. It was beautiful, the fluffy clouds the colour of the bubble gum I stuck in the Flora’s hair when I was eight. She hasn’t spoken to me since. I don’t care. Suddenly the light from the room vanishes, the Empress rushes to close the curtains, she whispers under her breath and the candles on the chandelier went out. I screamed. Normally if I do that, Kate will come and get me what I need. But Kate wasn’t here, she was in a different world. The normal one. “You must leave now.” The Empress’s soft voice whispered urgently in my ear. Then something heavy is placed in my hand. My heart is beating rapidly. But I do as she says, I walk towards the doors. They open as soon as I get close, revealing a grassy plain, shadowed by the clouds covering the moon. Suddenly the doors slam behind me. I’m alone, in the dark. In a magical world where anything could happen. And for the first time in my life, I was scared. Then I looked down and saw the heavy thing that the Empress had put in my hand right before I was pushed outside. It was a necklace, with a small golden key that shone in the night. I put it in the pocket of my pants. Then I walk towards the woods that lay ahead. As I grew nearer to the trees, I noticed that they all seemed to shine different colours. Or maybe they were just normal green trees, and I was just tired. Yeah, that was probably it. I sat down, the soft grass tickled my feet, then I lay back, looking up at the stars in the night sky. They all sparkled like diamonds, all of them a different shade of pink. Then a shining light suddenly pierced through the night. The clouds covering it had moved to reveal the bright full moon. It lit up the whole grassy plain. And the eyes of the creature looming over me. I screamed. But nothing happened, no one came to rescue me. I was alone. In a world that wasn’t mine. Completely alone. The creature growled, its saliva dripping down on to my face. I jumped to my feet, accidentally head butting the creature. Now that I was standing, I noticed how big it was. I am quite short, and the creature that stood before me reached just below my shoulders. I took a step backwards. The creatures round yellow eyes followed me. Then it pounced, the white speckles on its midnight fur shimmering as it flew through the air, straight at me. But I couldn’t move. Then the creature stumbled backwards, confusion in its eyes, they matched the confusion in mine. The creature lunged at me again, and again it fell back onto the grass. Then I noticed a light coming from my left pocket. I reached in and pulled out the golden key, it was glowing. I whispered a silent thankyou to the Empress, then looked up at the creature. It looked like a lynx. I smiled. Then I noticed the chain around its neck. It looked too tight. Then I hear the lynx whimper. It’s hurt. I approach it slowly, then kneel down infront of it. Then I hold the golden key up to it. The metal burns away. The lynx’s eyes changed from a yellowy-white to orange. Then a piece of paper appeared where the burnt chain used to lay. I picked it, it was a map. And now I wasn’t lost. I stand up and head into the woods. ******* After a while of walking, I come across a river, running through the woods. It’s waters sparkling in the light of the moon, the colour of the endless galaxies they lay beyond. I watched as a leaf fell from the tree above and landed on the river, suddenly the river erupted, swallowing the leaf. I stared shock. This wasn’t on the map. I look down at my pocket, where the golden key necklace lay. No, it wouldn’t help. Would it? I looked behind and plucked a large leaf from a tree. The leaf wasn’t green like the ones back at home, it was the colour of lavender, my favourite plant. The plant I through into people’s hair when they weren’t looking, so that it would stay there forever, until shower day. I place the leaf on the ground and put the golden key on top of it, then I lifted it up carefully and put in on the rough waters of the river. Then I waited. It had been 30 seconds, and nothing had happened, the leaf was not taken. I reached out to grab the locket when suddenly the strongest gust of wind hit me, and I was pushed into the water. I panicked, I can’t swim, especially in the kind of water. I was going to die. ******* I was in a room. A plain grey room, just like the one that I had back at the orphanage. Someone was sitting on the bed. They had short brown hair, they were wearing the orphanage uniform, like the one I am wearing now. They are crying, tears rolling down their cheeks. I looked around. I notice a plant sitting on the windowsill, it was Lavender. The same plant that lay on the windowsill in Kate’s room. “Kate?” I speak. The girl looks up, eyes scanning the room. That’s when I realised what I’d done. That I had hurt her. Stabbed a dagger into her heart. Suddenly the room begins to fade, “I’m sorry.” ******* I open my eyes, I’m back in the forest, at least I think I am. A darkness surrounds me, like a black cloud that is wrapped around me like a blanket. I squint hard, trying to see clearer, but it didn’t help. Until I saw the silhouette of something. I stand, and shakily walk towards it. The darkness pushing down on my shoulders didn’t stop me. As I grew nearer, the shape became a child, about the age I was when we were taken to the orphanage. “Hello?” The child looks up, I see fear in their eyes. I kneel down, and the darkness lets go of my shoulders. “My name’s Ellie.” The child nods. “I’m Charlotte.” I smile, and wonder, how could a child this small and this innocent could create such havoc, that endangered a whole world. I reach out my hand, “Why did you do this?” Charlotte grabs my hand with hers, they are soft like silk, “They lied to me, they told me I was safe, they told me I would be treated like I belonged. But I wasn’t, they all stared. They told me they were my family; they weren’t.” That’s when I realise this child, Charlotte, is me. “I understand.” Then I let go of her hand and hold out my arms. Charlotte steps forward and I wrap her up in a hug. And slowly the darkness around us, and the forest comes back to view. ******* I took Charlotte back to the grassy plain and gave her to the Midnight Lynx, I thought the lynx would take better care of her than the people who live in this world. “Goodbye, Ellie.” ******* “We are so very grateful.” The Empress smiled down at me. And for the first time in my life, I felt happy that I did something for someone. As I left the room, and walked down the hallway, all the boxes, dipped their heads and shook my hand. Some of the young ones wrapped their arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I felt terrible when I had to pull them off. I had to run fast so that I could catch up with the box that had taken me here. We walked a while until we arrived at a bright red door, “I hope we meet again. And I’m sorry The Empress lied so you would help. I’m sorry she didn’t know who your mother is.” I smile, bending down to give him a hug. “That’s ok. I don’t need to know.” Then I opened the door and left the strange world behind. ******* As soon as I left the attic I ran to Kate’s room. I hoped with all my might that she was still there, that no time had passed since the vision I had in the forest. As I grew nearer, I saw Kate closing the door. “Kate!” Her head turned abruptly. “Ellie?” I hear her say, her voice silent with a hint of confusion hanging on her words. I run towards her and wrap my arms around her, “I’m sorry.” I say, tears flooding my eyes. “I forgive you.” Kate’s voice quivering in the air around us. ******* I didn’t sit with my siblings today at lunch. I sat somewhere else. At a table with a girl named Kitty. “Wait.” Kitty says, “You’re saying that you saved a whole world from a darkness, that was just a little girl.” “Yup.” “Can you take me there?” ONE YEAR LATER … (to understand the epilogue, you need to read my story from term 3 last year) “Eleanor! Someone’s here to see you!” I walk down to the dining hall. A girl stands in the middle of the room. Tears streaming down her eyes. I don’t know what’s happened, but I give her a hug. “I’m Olive. I’m the witch who sent your friend to find my sister.” I stared in confusion. Kitty hadn’t mentioned this. But I hadn’t seen her in a week, so. “She found her.” I smiled. “Oh, that’s good.” Olive’s voice cracked. “They died.”

I was adopted. I hate the thought of it, that Ann and Tim lied to me. Saying that they were my parents, when they weren’t. So I broke my promise. ***** “You used to be the kindest girl, Ellie, what happened?” Silence. “Ellie, answer me.” Silence. “Ellie!” Silence. This was my tactic. When people wanted me to answer a question, or admit to something, I would stay silent. Then after about three attempts, they give up, and leave me alone. It works every time. So, I count to three in my head, and just like that, she leaves, slamming the door behind her. Once her footsteps had faded down the hallway, I shuffled around to face the window. I pressed on the slab of wood underneath the windowsill, a drawer comes out, inside are photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, and an old, rusted heart locket. Their evidence, things that might help me find my real parents. Not my fake parents. Not Ann and Tim, who both are sleeping happily in their graves thinking that I still don’t know. I lay out the contents of the drawer on my bed. I opened one of the envelopes, it contained 5 photographs, all taken about 10 years ago, the mum suspects. I pick up the first one, Brianna Reid, who went missing 9 years ago. I stare at the photograph, nothing about her looks like me, she just feels so familiar. “SUPPER TIME!” ***** I have no friends. I sit alone. I know I don’t deserve friends. And those who have been friendly to me, I’ve treated like dirt. I’m fine though. I have my siblings. They always talk about their friends, and that’s the closest thing I’ve had to experiencing real friendship. But they never arrived at the table today. I sat alone. Feeling truly left out. Even my own family hate me. Well, I guess they’re not my family, but they were lied to as well, so, to me they are. Well, they were. ***** That night, my eldest “sister” Kate, came to my room. “Ellie?” I stay silent. “Fine. If this is what you want. To be rude to you family, as well as everyone else.” “You’re not my family!” I shout. Kate stares at me in utter disgust, “Wow. You know you are a truly horrid person. This is why we didn’t sit with you at dinner, you don’t even care what we talk about. You just sit there. Doing nothing. Everyone in this orphanage hates you, you are the most unlikable person I know. Goodnight.” She leaves. I’ve had the same “conversation” with almost everyone who live here. I’m used to it. And I don’t really care. ***** I take that back, I do care. Every time someone comes to tell be that they hate me, I go. To the attic, where no one will find me. So once the lights are turned out in the hallway, I open the door. Check for carers, then tiptoe down until I reach the door that says, STAFF ONLY, ORPHANS NEED PERMISSION TO ENTER. I take the bobby pin out of my hair and stab it into the keyhole. I move the bobby pin around until I hear a click. The door swings open and I walk in, silently closing it behind me. I run up the stairs and walk towards my corner, the one I curl up and cry in. But something else has taken up my spot. A mirror, shining bright and silver, lighting up the room with its luminescent glow. I walk towards it, it was beautiful. Intricate designs were carved into the golden frame. My arm instinctively reaches out, the silver glass moves as I touch it, it’s cold, like water with ice in it.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I’m turning 13. Mrs White’s planning the party because Dad’s too busy. Dad doesn’t like my friends, so I can’t invite them. I invite the whole apartment block though. I made these beautiful invitations, but Dad said I had to invite everyone in person, so now they are in the bin. I decide to start at the bottom and work my way up. At unit one, old Mrs Arrington greeted me warmly. “Kara, dear, what brings you here so early in the morning?” “Well, my birthday party is tomorrow, and I am her to tell you that your invited.” It took Mrs Arrington a while to figure out what I said, “Of course, yes! I’m coming! What time dear?” “12 o’clock.” Mrs Arrington nodded and went back inside. I then went to unit two, where Sofia lived. But she wasn’t home, so I left a post-it on her door. Then I went to unit four, where Mr Jones lived. He also wasn’t home, so I left another post-it. Then I went to unit six, where Mrs Smith, gave me a box of decorations to put up around the house. “Now, I don’t mind if you want to put them up by yourself or if you want me to help.” “Yes. Um, could you come about half an hour before?” Mrs White nodded. “Thanks!” I said, then turned to face the door of unit five. I took a deep breath then knocked. The girl who answered the door was dressed in an old apron and an ankle-length dress. “Hello?” “Um, Hi. I love your costume, you must be going to a costume party, right?” The girl looked at me in confusion, “Aye, we art going to a costume party. But wherefore art thee here?” “Ummmm. Sorry do you mean why am I here?” The girl nodded, “Aye.” “Oh, well, my birthday party is tomorrow, and I am here to say you and your family are invited.” “Aye, we shall beest there. But our parents has’t work, so they can’t cometh.” “Oh, ok. Well, it’s at twelve o’clock tomorrow.” The girl nodded and went back inside. *** The day of my birthday arrived, and the decorations were finally hung. I had blueberry pancakes for breakfast and Dad promised me that he wouldn’t do any work today. Sofia arrived first, bringing with her and huge box wrapped in newspaper. “Happy Birthday Kara!” Miss Arrington came next; she brought out a little box and lay in down on the table. The she wished me a happy birthday. The Mr Jones came. He went straight to my Dad and they began talking about where they thought computers were heading in the future. Then the new neighbours came. They were wearing the same outfits as yesterday. The who greeted me at the door came and said, “Joyous Birthday.” Now that everyone was there, I began opening presents. Sofia’s present was a painting she’d done of me, based off a photo Dad had given her. Mr and Mrs Smith got me a cookbook, full of easy meals I could make by myself. Miss Arrington got me knitting needles so I could knit with her sometimes. After that Mr Jones stood up and said, “My present for Kara is outside.” So we all followed him down the stairs to where a brand new bicycle was waiting. After that it was cake time. Mrs White brought out a beautiful cake from the refrigerator. It was lilac, my favourite colour with my name written in swirly writing on it. “I’ll go grab the candles.” I say, and then I run to my room. I open my bedroom door, then I freeze. In my room were the new neighbours, rummaging through all my things. “What on earth do you think you’re doing!?” I shout. The all look up at me in shock. Frozen to the spot. The smallest looked like she was about to cry. Then the girl who had wished me a “Joyous Birthday” said, “Well, thee seeth, we didn’t get thee a present.” I glared at them, “Tell me the truth.” The girl hesitated. The boy hissed something in her ear. She nodded. “Mine own nameth is Rowena, and that gent is mine own brother Easton, and the young lady is our cousin, Heather. We cometh from the year 1707 and we art running from the International Society of Time Gem Protection, they want this.” The girl said, holding up a locket with the letters K.H. of it. Then the boy stepped in, “Thy family, thee, thy mother, thy grandmother, and so on, have the same initials, K.H. This did belong to a friend of ours, Katie. The lady toldeth us to runneth taketh it far away.” Then the littlest, Heather interrupted, “It’s a timeth gem. An object that has been touch by magic. We had to find Katie's ancestors, and putteth a peice of their soul in it. We wenteth to 1707 and tooketh a paintbrush from a mistress named Katharine, then we wenteth through generations finding things, and now we hath found thee.” Then Rowena said, “But we can’t seem to find Kimberly Hope.” I freeze, “My Mum.” “We has't four days until thy family disappears from history.” *** I had to help them, they were so afraid of this society that would delete a family from history, the family of their best friend. But I hadn’t seen Mum for years, after she and dad got a divorce, I hadn’t ever heard from her, I had no idea where she would be. If we find her, I’ll get to be with my Mum, I’ll get to see her for the first time in 12 years. But if we can’t find her in time. I will lose everything.

They are gone. Taken away by men in navy blue business suits. Probably never to be seen ever again. I have so many questions. But no one has the answers. *********************** Monday, 29th August 2016 Knock. Knock. Knock. “I’ll answer it!” I called out. I got up from my bed where I was texting my friends. They were all having a fun time to together in Hawaii while I was stuck at home with my Dad who only cares about one thing: That I don’t ever leave his sight. Ever. When I opened the door I was surprised that it wasn’t Mr and Mrs Smith from unit 4 delivering dinner. You see, Dad can’t cook. And even if he could he’s on his computer 24/7 trying to earn enough money to pay the rent for this apartment. Anyway, the person who was at door was the landlady, Maria. Who owned this apartment. She’s short, about a foot smaller than me. She looks like a principle, a strict one, with pointy glasses and everything. But she’s really kind. “Hi Maria, is everything alright. We weren’t expecting you to come today.” I said calmly. But that was not how I felt, she might have come to kick us out. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers. Maria smiled and looked me up and down. “Kara! It’s so good to see you again. You’ve grown so much. Is your father home?” I nodded, “Yes, he is. But he’s busy right now. Does he need to be here?” Maria smiled again and shook her head, “No, love, he doesn’t need to be here. But could you please tell him later. It’s important for everyone to be informed.” I nodded to let her know that she could continue speaking. I am not a patient person, so I really needed to know if we had to pack our bags and leave. And I needed to know soon. “Well, on Friday, some new people will be moving in to unit 5, right above you. They are bringing a pet with them. I thought you should know.” I let out a sigh. We weren’t being kicked out! “Well, anyway. That’s all I came for. So I better be going. Have a good day.” I waved Maria goodbye and watched as she walked down the stairs. ****** Dinner was delivered at 5:00. Mrs Smith apologised multiple times about how she forgot to make dessert. But I wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t mind. We got out the plates and put all the delicious food Mrs Smith had made for us on them. Then we ate. “So who came to the door earlier today?” Dad asked. I finished chewing my asparagus then said, “It was Maria. She came to say that new neighbours are moving in on Friday. In unit 5.” Dad nodded. And then we both ate the rest of our food in silence. ****** Friday, 2nd September 2016 It was Friday. The day of the neighbours’ arrival. I was so excited. I had spent the past 4 days making a WELCOME basket. It was full of snacks and fun stuff, like colouring books for adults and Crayola markers to colour it in. I even included Dad’s phone number so they could call us if they needed anything. I was soooo excited. ****** It was 2:00pm and I was waiting at the window for the neighbours. Then I saw that strangest thing. Three children, and a donkey walking down the street. Where were their parents? And where did they get the donkey from. Then something even stranger happened, they walked into the apartment block. I ran to the door and listened to their footsteps walking up the stairs. Then I heard a key turning in a lock. And realisation struck me. They were the new neighbours.

I enjoy the fortnightly sessions because every other week that we aren't doing Young Writers Club I have something to look forward to from the next week. If I am sad or not having a good week, knowing that I have Young Writers Club coming soon makes me happy. The reason I come back week after week is because Young Writers Club makes me laugh and smile, it makes me feel happy that I get to write stories along side so many others that she the same passion of writing. My favourite term this year was Term 2, because it was my first term ever at Young Writers Club and I really enjoyed sending my character Henrietta back to the time of pirates. It was so much fun finding out how Young Writers Club works and where to post your writing so everyone can see (or so only Alicia and Susan can see). I have some ideas for future Young Writers Club terms: - Out of this World: Each young writer makes their character go on a mission, adventure or maybe they even live somewhere that is Out of this World - Tiny Life: Each young writer chooses a character that lives in a normal everyday object like a pencil case or schoolbag. - Bad Guy: Each young writer chooses one of their favourite books and rewrites it from the bad guys perspective

New South Wales. I hadn’t been here for two years, ever since “The Fall ''. Ever since I took an oath to never come back to this place. At that time I thought it would be impossible to get from Melbourne to Sydney all by myself. But now as I stand here, 878 km away from home. I wonder how I did it. How I found the courage to break the oath and take one train and five buses to get here. If Mum found out she’d ground me for eternity, but she’d also ask me why. And the answer I will give you now. Someone had called me. But I do not know who. Why me? Why now? Why here? Unless … No. It couldn’t possibly be. I refused to believe it. She was dead, and only someone alive could’ve called me here. Right? I shook my head. And lifted my chin. Whoever had called me, I would find them, find out why they called me and then I’d return. I tiptoed up the steps, being careful not to make any noise. At one point I was distracted and I fell grazing my knee. But that didn’t stop me, I kept going, until I reached the doors, and a problem appeared. I would not be able to get into the library, the doors would be locked. I reached for the handle anyway and the door opened. I pushed it open an inch wider and squeezed in. In my mind I had imagined someone to be waiting for me. Turns out I was wrong. The library was empty, silent and empty. I crept in further, taking in the scene in front of me. The marble map of the world on the floor, the marble and glass case with an ancient banner. And the balcony, I shuddered, memories flooding my eyes. Emily noticing the map for the first time. The man creeping up behind her. Then Emily screaming as she fell. Then silence. The memories in my eyes became tears. But I wiped them away. I wasn’t here to remember. I was here to find the person who called me, then leave. I walked ahead. Into the doors of the reading room. Where, even in the silent night, everything in that room was screaming for me to leave, to go home. But I continued walking, until someone coughed. I froze. I was 99% sure that no one else was in the library except me. I turned slowly, quickly coming up with excuses in my head for why I was in the state library in the middle of the night. Then I screamed. Because there, right in front of me was a ghost. “We’ve been waiting for you, Hillary.” ****** So many questions swirled around in my head as I stared at the ghost. How did he know I was coming? How did he know my name? Who is he? I thought ghosts weren’t real Mum, how do you explain this? And why does he look so familiar? Luckily for me, all my questions were answered in one sentence, “Sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m David Scott Mitchell, I am the founder of this library and I’ve been sent to find you by the orders of Emily York, who I believe is your sister.” Annoyingly, his answers made new questions pop into my head, so I decided to ask the first question that came to my mind, “Why are you alive?” “I would consider that rude, but you have never seen a ghost before, so you ---” What he just said made my jaw drop, I had so I couldn’t wait any longer, I did the unbearable, unspeakable, I interrupted, “So you're actually a ghost, not a figment of my over curious imagination that may have lead me to hear a voice and ” Interrupting had always been a big no, no in my family, we had been taught to be patient and to wait, we’d been told it was rude, very rude. But, with all that worrying about what Mum would say if she knew, I forgot about another rule I had just broken. “Shhhhhhhhh! This is a library!” David Scott Mitchel shouted, breaking the rule he’d just called me out on for breaking. “Sorry. Wait, what about Emily, is she a ghost, too?” He nodded. “Can I see her?” He nodded and walked. “Wait! Come back here, where are you going?!” David Scott Mitchell kept walking, I couldn’t believe it, he didn’t even care that I’d just shouted in a library. So, even though I should have known better than to follow a ghost I had only just met through a library that I hadn’t been in for four years in the middle of the night, I followed him. And so, we walked, and walked some more, and walked a bit more and --- Something flashed at the corner of my eyes. In the doorway was a man, tall, wrinkled and pale, but not as pale as the ghost that was walking in front of me. I could tell the doorway man was searching for something, I could tell, by the way his face was tilted, and the way his eyes widened as he saw me, his eyes blood red, veins pulsing rapidly, I knew what had just happened, he recognised me. I ran. I ran fast, sprinted down ten different hallways, then I stopped. And David Scott Mitchell was standing right beside me. “This way,” he said. We walked into the galleries, where artworks hung on walls, then we stopped. I was very determined to get as far away as possible from that, what’d you call it, thing, as possible, “Come on. Why have we stopped?” Then I saw. A door had opened, like a bit of the wall had just cracked and swung open, it was a very confusing sight. “Come.” David Scott Mitchell said. Then he disappeared through the door, and very soon afterward, I did too. Inside was a hallway, a big giant hallway, that seemed to stretch on forever. SLAM! I jumped. And quickly turned around, nothing was there, it was only the door closing. I continued to follow David Scott Mitchell through the hallway, and then down another. This time it was bigger, with colourful doors on either side, ghosts walking in and out, nodding “hello” to David Scott Mitchell as they passed, not taking any notice of me. “Stay here.” We were standing outside of a sage green door, with the letters E.Y written in gold writing. David Scott Mitchell was gone, I guessed he was in the room. So I waited, and waited then I listened, because I was very good at listening through doors. I heard voices, two, David Scott Mitchell’s and someone else's, someone young. “Yes, miss.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright, I’m ready to see her.” And with that, footsteps sounded, I pulled away from the door. It opened, and David Scott Mitchell came out, “She’s ready to see you.” He held the door open for me to step in, and I did, very, very nervously. “Hillary!” The girl in the seat jumped up in joy. She was about eight, wide eyes and hair in pigtails. For a second I didn’t know her, she was just another ghost, a kid ghost, but still a ghost, and then I saw her. Saw her jumping over the waves at the beach, choosing a birthday present for Mum, choosing a fish at the pet shop. This wasn’t just a ghost, this was Emily, the girl who didn’t deserve to die that day, the girl I called my sister. ****** Emily was alive (not really, she’s a ghost), she was happy, she was also very very scared. Of the man in the doorway, who she told me was Henry Lawson. “Henry Lawson?” I stare at Emily in disbelief, “But didn’t he die like 100 years ago?” Emily nodded, “Yes, he did. I’m confused too. But that doesn’t matter, I just want to find out why he’s looking for me, and why he’s so desperate to find me. Why is he travelling into human minds to make them look for me? I want to know.” “And you want me to find out and stop him, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. If you don’t mind.” “I don’t. But there is one teensy problem” I said, remembering the look of recognition on Henry Lawson’s face when he saw me. “What is that?” “Well, I’ve seen him.” “What?! Hillary! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Emily hopped from her seat clearly worried. “Well, until you gave the description, I didn’t know who he was. And he sorta, kinda, maybe looked like he knew who I was.” Emily’s face was pale, really pale, seeing that she was a ghost. “No. No. No. No. No. This can’t - just no.” Then she took a big deep breath, but didn’t breath in any air, “Ok. Hillary, don’t worry. He doesn’t know you so he shouldn’t recognise you. So don’t worry. Just find out what he wants ok. And be safe.” I nodded, “I will.” Then I left and David Scott Mitchell led me down two other hallways to a door painted mustard yellow with the letters H.Y written in gold writing on it. My initials. “Excuse me, Mr Mitchell, I was just wondering why -” “Your initials are on this door?” David Scott Mitchel finished my question, “Also, Miss Hillary, I prefer to be called Dave, or Scotty, that’s what my friends call me.” “I’m your friend?” I couldn’t believe this, I was friends with a famous person. “Yes. Any friend of Emily’s is a friend of mine.” “Why do you care for Emily so much?” “Well, she reminds me of a woman I once loved, Emily Matilda. And she was so lonely here, so I told her I’d be her father, so she'd have family with her. Until, at least, when you die and she will have someone familiar.” Tears welled up in my eyes, “Thankyou.” I said, half-crying, then I hugged him. “Thank you, Dave.” ****** I set off to find Henry Lawson half an hour later. Dave said he was happy to come but I told him that he had to stay with Emily. I completely regretted that just after the door in the wall closed, wishing I had someone with me. Henry Lawson was creepy, and I barely knew my way around the state library. Before I left Emily told me to search the stacks, which she presumed was where Henry Lawson hid when he wasn’t roaming the halls. She also told me quite a bit about resurrected humans. Like how they can’t eat or drink, or read, they have no knowledge whatsoever. Which means they are being controlled by someone else. But who? I walk down stairs, following the map Dave had drawn for me. Until I reached the first level of the stacks. Shelves and shelves full of millions of year old objects. A few had labels. And two were just labels, at first I thought the labels were the old object, then I read them and realised what the labels said. Henry Lawson Death Mask Henry Lawson Hand Cast Whoever had resurrected Henry Lawson must have taken these to do so. I went down to the next level, then the next. This one had quite a few ancient books on the shelves so I took my time, examining each one carefully, trying my best not to sniff them, because the smell of old books is mesmerizing. I turned the corner. Then I froze. The figure sitting on the desk a few feet away from me ran, dropping everything in their hands. Then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Magic. I neared the desk. On it was a teacup, with still-warm tea inside. It was white with little pictures of waratahs on it, it looked so familiar. And the other object, a newspaper dated on the 8th of May 2018. Who would want to read a newspaper from that long ago. I scanned the front page for any sign of interesting news when I saw Emily’s name. This wasn’t just any newspaper, this was the newspaper from the day fell. The day journalist Thalia Glasshouse interviewed us, and the day we left. Leaving every memory of Emily in New South Wales. Then I read. Thalia made everything so sad and realistic, it felt like I was reliving that day. CRASH! I jumped, and I screamed. It was the creepy guy, Henry Lawson, I knew it was. I began thinking that I would never make it back to Melbourne. I turned slowly, bracing myself for the blood-red eyes of Henry Lawson. But I only saw a ghost. Not a human ghost though, it was the ghost of a cat. ****** I breathed out in relief. And bend down to pet the cat. But of course, the cat was a ghost and my hand went straight through it. “Right.” I said to myself, realising. I stood up and went back to the desk. The teacup had cooled down, and the warm smell had vanished. So I decided to leave. Turning on the spot to face the stairs, I noticed someone. They were pale, and tall, with large blood-red eyes. Henry Lawson. I wanted to run, but I was too curious. Henry Lawson seemed sad, but he was after Emily, so he had to go. I grabbed the closest object and held it high above my head. “STOP!” The voice was hoarse and wrinkled. I stopped, I knew I probably shouldn’t have. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just need Emily.” “Why?” I ask, this was my only chance to get the answers. “My master. He wants her dead.” “She’s already dead,” I exclaimed, then, after the last puzzle piece of my question was completed in my mind, I added, “He killed her.” “Well, clearly, she is still in some way alive, she can still communicate with living humans.” “So she knew something?” “I believe so.” “Why doesn’t he find her?” “He doesn’t want to be seen. And so he brought me back to life, even though I was quite happy living as a dead human. I just want to be dead again, it’s so peaceful.” “Is there anything I can do to stop him?” Henry Lawson nods. And points to the newspaper in my hand. “See those two words, the ones that say “evil matter” that is an anagram of time travel. You just have to read that sentence three times and you will be there, in that time. And there could be a possibility that you could save your sister. And I will be free.” I stare at him open mouthed. The guy I thought was evil was actually helping me. I nod. Read the sentence three times and suddenly blackness, an ice-like cold seeping under my clothes into my bones. Then light, bright and blinding. The noise overwhelms me, after silence the voices of everyone in the building is painful, bursting my eardrums. I clasp my hands onto my ears, and fall to the ground. “Hillary, sweetheart, are you ok?” I look up, Mum stands above me, Dad is by her side. “Look, I can explain.” I say, my voice suddenly younger. “What’s the date?” Mum and Dad stare at each other, “It’s the 8th of May. Why are you asking?” “What’s the year?” Dad answers this time, “2020.” I couldn’t believe it, the newspaper had actually worked. I was ten-years-old. Emily was alive, and I was one of the two people who knew that Emily was about to die. “Look at the map!” My head shoots up to see Emily leaning over the railing pointing down at the marble map. I ran over to her, but I did not look down at the map, I was looking for a man, the necromancer. I looked down at my watch, because I wore one back then and screamed. It was loud and hurt my throat, but it got everyone’s attention. “Hillary. This is a library.” Mum whispers sternly in my ear. But I don’t stop. “THIS MAN WAS ABOUT TO PUSH HER!!!” I shouted pointing behind me, where, as I expected, stood a man so familiar looking I couldn’t believe it. In the next fifteen minutes of that day, the police were called and the man was arrested. And I became the star of the newspaper. I smile, I completed my task, Emily was not dead, and Henry Lawson was free. EIGHTH OF MAY 2024 The 4 year anniversary of the day I saved Emily, and the day she told me a secret I will keep for the rest of my life. Until “The Day”. I will forever remember that day, and I will never forget, no matter what. It was 6:00 am when the knock arrived. We all poked our heads out of our rooms, our hair messy and uncombed. “It’s likely a delivery person, they’ll just leave it at the door.” I stared at Mum in disbelief, had she literally forgotten, “The talent scout.” I whisper as I watch a wave of realisation wash across Mum’s face. She stared at me, her eyes wide, telling me to answer the door. I flatten my hair with my hands, take a deep breath and unlock the door, “Hi, how can I help you.” I say in my cheeriest voice. The person at the door was tall, with long hair slicked back into a tight bun. They were wearing a suit. I knew it must be the talent scout. Well, that was until they spoke. “I have a warrant for Hillary and Emily York’s immediate execution.”

Emily was alive (not really, she’s a ghost), she was happy, she was also very very scared. Of the man in the doorway, who she told me was Henry Lawson. “Henry Lawson?” I stare at Emily in disbelief, “But didn’t he die 100 years ago?” Emily nodded, “Yes, he did. I’m confused too. But that doesn’t matter, I just want to find out why he’s looking for me, and why he’s so desperate to find me. Why is he travelling into human minds to make them look for me? I want to know.” “And you want me to find out and stop him, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. If you don’t mind.” “I don’t. But there is one teensy problem” I said, remembering the look of recognition on Henry Lawson’s face when he saw me. “What is that?” “Well, I’ve seen him.” “What?! Hillary! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Emily hopped from her seat clearly worried. “Well, until you gave the description, I didn’t know who he was. And he sorta, kinda, maybe recognised me.” Emily’s face was pale, really pale, seeing that she was a ghost. “No. No. No. No. No. This can’t - just no.” Then she took a big deep breath, but didn’t breath in any air, “Ok. Hillary, don’t worry. He doesn’t know you so he shouldn’t recognise you. So don’t worry. Just find out what he wants ok. And be safe.” I nodded, “I will.” Then I left and David Scott Mitchell led me down two other hallways to a door painted mustard yellow with the letters H.Y written in gold writing on it. My initials. “Excuse me, Mr Mitchell, I was just wondering why -” “Your initials are on this door?” David Scott Mitchel finished my question, “Also, Miss Hillary, I prefer to be called Dave, or Scotty, that’s what my friends call me.” “I’m your friend?” I couldn’t believe this, I was friends with a famous person. “Yes. Any friend of Emily’s is a friend of mine.” “Why do you care for Emily so much?” “Well, she reminds me of a woman I once loved, Emily Matilda. And she was so lonely here, so I told her I’d be her father, so she'd have family with her.” Tears welled up in my eyes, “Thankyou.” I said, half-crying, then I hugged him. “Thank you, Dave.” ****** I set off to find Henry Lawson half an hour later. Dave said he was happy to come but I told him that he had to stay with Emily. I completely regretted that just after the door in the wall closed, wishing I had someone with me. Henry Lawson was creepy, and I barely knew my way around the state library. Before I left Emily told me to search the stacks, which she presumed was where Henry Lawson hid when he wasn’t roaming the halls. She also told me quite a bit about resurrected humans. Like how they can’t eat or drink, or read, they have no knowledge whatsoever. Which means they are being controlled by someone else. But who? I walk down stairs, following the map Dave had drawn for me. Until I reached the first level of the stacks. Shelves and shelves full of millions of year old objects. A few had labels. And two were just labels, at first I thought the labels were the old object, then I read them and realised what the labels said. Henry Lawson Death Mask Henry Lawson Hand Cast Whoever had resurrected Henry Lawson must have taken these to do so. I went down to the next level, then the next. This one had quite a few ancient books on the shelves so I took my time, examining each one carefully, trying my best not to sniff them, because the smell of old books is mesmerizing. I turned the corner. Then I froze. The figure sitting on the desk a few feet away from me ran, dropping everything in their hands. Then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Magic. I neared the desk. On it was a teacup, with still-warm tea inside. It was white with little pictures of waratahs on it, it looked so familiar. And the other object, a newspaper dated on the 8th of May 2018. Who would want to read a newspaper from that long ago. I scanned the front page for any sign of interesting news when I saw Emily’s name. This wasn’t just any newspaper, this was the newspaper from the day she was pushed. The day journalist Thalia Glasshouse interviewed us, and the day we left. Leaving every memory of Emily in New South Wales. Then I read. Thalia made everything so sad and realistic, it felt like I was reliving that day. CRASH! I jumped, and I screamed. It was the creepy guy, Henry Lawson, I knew it was. I began thinking that I would never make it back to Melbourne. I turned slowly, bracing myself for the blood-red eyes of Henry Lawson. But I only saw a ghost. Not a human ghost though, it was the ghost of a cat.

So many questions swirled around in my head as I stared at the ghost. How did he know I was coming? How did he know my name? Who is he? I thought ghosts weren’t real Mum, how do you explain this? And why does he look so familiar? Luckily for me, all my questions were answered in one sentence, “Sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m David Scott Mitchell, I am the founder of this library and I’ve been sent to find you by the orders of Emily York, who I believe is your sister.” Annoyingly, his answers made new questions pop into my head, so I decided to ask the first question that came to my mind, “Why are you alive?” “I would consider that rude, but you have never seen a ghost before, so you ---” What he just said made my jaw drop, so I couldn’t wait any longer, I did the unbearable, unspeakable, I interrupted, “You're a ghost?!” Interrupting had always been a big no, no in my family, we had been taught to be patient and to wait, we’d been told it was rude, very rude. But, with all that worrying about what Mum would say if she knew, I forgot about another rule I had just broken. “Shhhhhhhhh! This is a library!” David Scott Mitchel shouted, breaking the rule he’d just called me out on for breaking. “Sorry. Wait, what about Emily, is she a ghost, too?” He nodded. “Can I see her?” He nodded and walked. “Wait! Come back here, where are you going?!” David Scott Mitchell kept walking, I couldn’t believe it, he didn’t even care that I’d just shouted in a library. So, even though I should have known better than to follow a ghost I had only just met through a library that I hadn’t been in for four years in the middle of the night, I followed him. And so, we walked, and walked some more, and walked a bit more and --- Something flashed at the corner of my eyes. In the doorway was a man, tall, wrinkled and pale, but not as pale as the ghost that was walking in front of me. I could tell the doorway man was searching for something, I could tell, by the way his face was tilted, and the way his eyes widened as he saw me, his eyes blood red, veins pulsing rapidly, I knew what had just happened, he recognised me. I ran. I ran fast, sprinted down ten different hallways, then I stopped. And David Scott Mitchell was standing right beside me. “This way,” he said. We walked into the galleries, where artworks hung on walls, then we stopped. I was very determined to get as far away as possible from that, what’d you call it, thing, as possible, “Come on. Why have we stopped?” Then I saw. A door had opened, like a bit of the wall had just cracked and swung open, it was a very confusing sight. “Come.” David Scott Mitchell said. Then he disappeared through the door, and very soon afterward, I did too. Inside was a hallway, a big giant hallway, that seemed to stretch on forever. SLAM! I jumped. And quickly turned around, nothing was there, it was only the door closing. I continued to follow David Scott Mitchell through the hallway, and then down another. This time it was bigger, with colourful doors on either side, ghosts walking in and out, nodding “hello” to David Scott Mitchell as they passed, not taking any notice of me. “Stay here.” We were standing outside of a sage green door, with the letters E.L written in gold writing. David Scott Mitchell was gone, I guessed he was in the room. So I waited, and waited then I listened, because I was very good at listening through doors. I heard voices, two, David Scott Mitchell’s and someone else's, someone young. “Yes, miss.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright, I’m ready to see her.” And with that, footsteps sounded, I pulled away from the door. It opened, and David Scott Mitchell came out, “She’s ready to see you.” He held the door open for me to step in, and I did, very, very nervously. “Hillary!” The girl in the seat jumped up in joy. She was about eight, wide eyes and hair in pigtails. For a second I didn’t know her, she was just another ghost, a kid ghost, but still a ghost, and then I saw her. Saw her jumping over the waves at the beach, choosing a birthday present for Mum, choosing a fish at the pet shop. This wasn’t just a ghost, this was Emily, the girl who didn’t deserve to die that day, the girl I called my sister.

New South Wales. I hadn’t been here for four years, ever since “The Fall”. Ever since I took an oath to never come back to this place. At that time I thought it would be impossible to get from Melbourne to Sydney all by myself. But now as I stand here, 878km away from home. I wonder how I did it. How I found the courage to break the oath and take one train and five buses to get here. If Mum was here she’d ground me for eternity, but she’d also ask me why. And the answer I will give you now. Someone had called me. But I do not know who. Why me? Why now? Why here? Unless … No. It couldn’t possibly be. I refused to believe it. She was dead, and only someone alive could’ve called me here.. I shook my head. And lifted my chin. Whoever had called me, I would face whatever had called me and then I’d return. I tiptoed up the steps, falling once when I wasn’t paying attention. Then I reached the doors. They were open. I pushed them open an inch wider and squeezed in. In my mind I had imagined someone to be waiting for me. Turns out I was wrong. The library was empty. I crept in further, taking in the scene in front of me. The marble map of the world on the floor, the marble and glass case with an ancient banner. And the balcony, I shuddered, memories flooding my eyes. Maggie noticing the map for the first time. The man creeping up behind her. Then Maggie screaming as she fell. Then silence. The memories in my eyes became tears. But I wiped them away. I wasn’t here to remember. I was here to find the person who called me, then leave. I walked ahead. Into the doors of the reading room. Where, even in the silent night, everything in that room was screaming for me to leave, to go home. But I continued walking, until someone coughed. I froze. I was 99% sure that no one else was in the library except me. I turned slowly, quickly coming up with excuses in my head for why I was in the state library in the middle of the night. Then I screamed. Because there, right in front of me was a ghost. “We’ve been waiting for you, Hillary.”

It was the 2nd of August when Kitty met the witch. It was Kitty’s birthday and it would probably be her most miserable birthday yet, as she was now an orphan and had no family to celebrate with. And no one at the orphanage would be kind enough to make a cake for her. She woke up that morning, excited that her birthday was here. She ran down the stairs and into the orphanage kitchens where she was greeted by a very angry cook. “What do you think you're doing here, young lady?” Kitty stared up at her, ignoring what she said and walked searching for something. The cook grabbed her by the arm, and gripped, “You are forbidden in these kitchens young lady, and what on earth are you looking for!?!!!!” Kitty turned, realising what mistakes she’d made, “I’m sorry, it’s my birthday and I thought Mama was down here, she always is in the kitchens on my birthday. I’m turning twelve. But, oh!! I’m not at home, am I?” The cook replied angrily, “No!” then through her out the servants door onto the street, “Happy Birthday!” And Kitty was alone, with two grazed knees. And that’s when she spotted the house, old, grey and haunted looking. Kitty grinned, forgetting her sorrows. She trotted across the road and opened the door, it creaked. And a loud voice echoed through the house. “Who goes there?!” “I do!” replied Kitty bravely, “and I’m not afraid!” Kitty moved further into the house and sat by the crackling fire. She began breathing again as she relaxed into the warmth. “BOO!” A voice from behind her cried. Kitty screamed with fear. And a figure came out from behind the chair, a girl, about her height, with ebony-black hair and eyes and the palest skin. The girl quite reminded Kitty of Snow White. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid.” The girl teased, then put out a hand, “I’m Olive, and you’re Kitty, I presume.” “Yes, but how do you know that?” Kitty asked, stepping farther away from this girl. “I’m a witch.” The girl said. Kitty screamed again. And the witch just laughed. “Do you like adventure?” Kitty nodded weakly. She loved adventure. The witch smiled, “Alright then, pack your bags and come back tomorrow.” Kitty returned the next day, the day she set out on her adventure. She knocked three times on Olive’s door, everyone staring at her with great confusion as they passed, they obviously all believed that the house was abandoned. After about 6 more knocks and ten trillion more confused looks, Kitty began to become impatient. The witch had told her never to enter the house again without permission or else, and she didn’t want to know what “or else” was. “Olive!” She hissed through the keyhole, “People are staring!” No one responded. Kitty shrank into the corner, hoping that sometime soon Olive would open the door and let her in. Then, 10 minutes later, an old woman stumbled through the crowd. She walked up to the door, then, noticing Kitty moping in the corner, “Come in.” Kitty was startled, Olive had never mentioned anything about someone else living in the house. Yet the woman looked quite a bit like her, so Kitty thought that she must be her grandmother. She nodded and followed the old woman in. “You know, it’s quite funny how Olive never told me about having a grandmother living with her.” Kitty said as she sat down by the crackling fire. The old woman looked quite offended, and as she shouted her reply, she became younger, “I have no such Grandmother, why on Earth would you think that!” Suddenly instead of a wrinkly old woman standing in front of her, the witch, Olive stood there completely utterly horrified. “Oh! It was you!” Kitty exclaimed, clearly shocked. “Alright, Katie, or - whatever your name is, I don’t really care,” Then Olive took out what looked like an old stick and waved it about. “My name’s Kitty. Is that a wand?!” Kitty asked, would she actually get to see a real witch using a real magic wand. But instead of seeing magic sparks come out of the wand, all she saw was Olive laughing her heart out. The witch was rolling on the floor by the time she could speak again, “You think this is a wand! Oh my, what things humans come up with! Witches don’t use wands, Silly!” Kitty stared at Olive in disbelief, if there was no such thing as wands, then what was the thing she was holding in her hand. “Then what’s that then!” Kitty shouted pointing at the stick. Olive laughed again, “It’s just a stick I found on the way here.” Kitty nodded. Then Olive spoke again, “Alright so you're going on a mission for me, right? And what mission was that? Oh, yes! This will be fun. Here’s a bag, here's food and here's a warm jumper. Alright, Bye, Have fun!” The witch pushed Kitty out the door. It was almost closed when Kitty turned around, “Wait! Where am I meant to be going!!” Olive’s face poked out the door, and the witch handed her a yellow train ticket, “North!” Then she was gone. Gone. Without even saying a word about what she was meant to be doing, and how on Earth would Kitty be able to know which way was north. Kitty trudged back to the orphanage, she couldn’t go on this adventure if she didn’t know what she was doing. But then Olive would probably turn her into a frog of something. She had to do it, she had to. She thanked the train driver and stepped into the train station. Now all she needed to do was to go North. Kitty thought for a moment, all she had was a magnet from the train, a jumper and food. And none of those could help her, they were all useless objects, or were they. Then a memory blossomed in Kitty’s mind, “The Magnet!” she cried, to no one in particular. Magnets, She thought, They always point to which way is north. It was a scientific breakthrough, well, for Kitty at least. She’d never paid attention to anything her science teacher had told her when she went to school, and back then she never thought that it would help her, well, it did. “Thank you, Mr Spencer, I’m sorry I never really paid attention to anything in science.” Kitty whispered under her breath. Then Kitty placed the magnet on the concrete train station, it turned several times, trying to figure out which way was North. Then it stopped, and Kitty stood up, staring in the direction that the magnet was pointing at, and this is what she saw: Snow, white, cold, empty snow. There were mountains too, tall, white, lonely mountains, “No,” She said to herself in disbelief, “No, Olive can’t have thought me to go there, just No.” Kitty turned and headed back to where the train had dropped her off. But there was no train to be seen. She staggered over to the bench and lay there, crying her heart out, “Mama! Papa!” she cried, but her dead parents couldn’t help her now. After a while, Kitty was sleeping soundly, dreaming of her old life, where she was happy. She slept through the night, through the rain and snow, through the train arriving, through the loud sobs of a child. She only woke when the child's tears stopped. She sat up, and wiped her own tears away, and there sitting on the edge of the concrete dangling their legs over the edge was a small girl, with dark-blonde hair and a small suitcase. “H-hello?” Kitty stuttered, nearing the little girl. “H-hi.” The girl stuttered back, turning to face Kitty, her piercing blue eyes full of sorrow. “What is your name? Mine’s Kitty.” Kitty asked, sitting down next to the girl. The girl turned to look at Kitty once again, “M-my name is Jana” “Why are you here? Where are your parents?” Kitty asked, looking around searching for Jana’s family. Jana’s eyes began to flood and she leaned into Kitty, burying her face in Kitty’s cardigan, “I don’t have parents, they died 2 years ago. I’ve been hiding out behind a bakery for years, but the baker found me and sent me here!” Jana cried, sobbing loudly into Kitty’s cardigan. “There, there, it’s alright, you can stay with me, but - but first I have to complete a mission. Would you like to come with me?” Kitty put her arms around the child, hoping to comfort her. Jana’s little head nodded, “Will you be my Mama?” she asked hopefully. Kitty smiled and nodded back. “Let’s go.” And the two girls stepped into the crackly snow. The two had talked all day, Jana was quite the talker, she told Kitty about her pets and her humongous family tree. Until the sun began to set and Kitty had to stop her, “Jana, why don’t we find a place to stay tonight, Yes?” Jana nodded. Then pointed at the closest mountain and happily said, “Can we sleep there?” Kitty almost fainted when she saw the cave. What if there was a bear in there, or bat’s, anything would be better than bats, but she had to agree, there were no other caves anywhere nearby. “Can you climb?” Kitty asked, looking down at the 7-year old. She nodded. And they began to climb, slipping at any movement they made, but finally they reached the cave, and lucky for them, it was bear free. Kitty laid out the soft blanket she’d taken from the orphanage, and the thin pillow. Then she searched around for sticks and once they’d been found, she lit a fire, as her dad had taught her when she was five. Then she took out the food. One cheese and jam sandwich, Kitty ripped it in half and gave the bigger half to Jana. They both ate hungrily and then they tucked themselves into bed while Jana sang one of her favorite lullabies, “Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening, Steal across the sky. Now the darkness gathers, Stars begins to peep, Birds and beasts and flowers Soon will be asleep.” Jana didn’t wake the next morning, her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was literally on fire. “Jana,” Kitty shook her, “Jana, please wake up.” Tears rolled down Kitty’s face, “Jana, please.” Jana’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open, “K-kitty. I-I want t-to go home.” Kitty smiled, and sighed with relief, tears in her eyes, “Oh, Jana.” Jana slept half that day, when she spoke her voice was a whisper, but she would get better, at least that was what Kitty told herself. Jana needed warmth to get better, but the sticks and twigs were running out and there was nothing to block the icy wind from venturing into the cave. Jana wasn’t getting better. Kitty stayed though, she had to, she couldn’t leave a sick seven-year-old all alone in a white mountainous nowhere. She had to stay, she had to betray the witch. And she would never forgive herself. That night as Jana slept soundly on the stone ground of the cave, Kitty sent a letter to Olive in her mind, Dear Olive, I am sorry. But I cannot go on. Jana has fallen ill and she certainly can’t continue, I know I have to continue, but Jana needs me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I will return to the orphanage and will not bother you any more. From Kitty Then she slept, dreaming about the horrid punishment she’d get when she returned, if she ever returned. The next morning, Olive woke, she’d received a letter that night in her sleep, one from Kitty, the girl she’d sent on her mission, the mission to find her sister, who was trapped somewhere in this world, hidden by a family, her sister, Jana. “Jana!” She exclaimed, “She’s alive! Oh, Kitty thankyou!” But Kitty couldn’t hear her, as she was shivering in a cave 10,000 miles away. Jana didn’t wake. Her eyes were frozen shut, her breath was shallow, she was cold. Kitty had nothing. She couldn’t make a fire, there was nothing to burn, nothing at all. She had already lost her backpack in the flames, her shoes and cardigan, she was freezing. “Jana, I’m sorry.” She whispered, her throat stinging from the icy cold. Jana shook her head, but her eyes didn’t open, she had no energy to open them. Kitty began talking, “The truth is, Jana. I don’t know what I’m meant to be doing. I mean, Olive never told me, she just said to go north.” She was interrupted by a hoarse squeaky voice, “Olive.” it whispered. “Yeah, she’s a witch. I failed though, so she’s probably gonna turn me into a frog when I return.” “Olive.” Jana said again, “My big sister.” Kitty froze in shock and coldness, “What!!!” She thought for ten seconds, if Olive was Jana’s sister, and Olive was a witch, Jana could save them. But why hadn’t she yet. “You’re a witch.” Jana shook her head tiredly, “No. She took magic. Killed Ma and Pa. She's evil.” Kitty stayed frozen in the corner, for two reasons, one, she had trusted a witch, a witch that had killed her own parents, a witch that had taken her sisters magic, a witch who definitely couldn’t be trusted, two, she couldn't move. “We’re not going home.” Kitty coughed, and fell to the floor. Jana opened her icy eyes, “Kitty,” She whispered hoarsely, “Thank you.” Then she was gone. A tear dripped down Kitty’s cheek, it froze against her. “Your Welcome.” She coughed again, then everything disappeared, the cave, the orphanage, Olive, her life. She was gone, following Jana to the end.