22 February 2023, Week 2: What will the neighbours think?

Maya was sitting in her dining room, surrounded by her family and Harley and Diana's. Harley had beautiful dark brown curls hanging around her neck, chocolate skin and gorgeous black eyes. Diana had her red hair in pigtails, her pretty hazel eyes focused on Harley, laughing, tears streaming down her face. Maya's family had invited all the neighbours for a get-together, hoping the new neighbours could be given a warm welcome into the neighbourhood. But they refused. Made a small excuse and then closed the door (gently, not like last time) and left Maya's mum a bit shocked. "..and they didn't even say yes the second time!" Mum ranted on, taking large sips of wine to calm herself down. "Hold on now, maybe they're just a little shy. After all, they have just moved into a new neighbourhood. I'm sure they'll say yes the third time." Said dad. They all agreed with him. "I dunno mate. I mean, they do seem, kind of... weird? I mean," Harleys dad chuckled, a little drunk "They gave me a really weird suspicious look when I was getting in my car. I caught them looking and all of them turned around. Real weird mate. Did you hear about the rumour going' round that they're on the run?" "On the run? Yeah and I'm the President of The United States of America."Mum chuckled. "I hope that they feel welcome. I remember how scared Diana was of joining the neighbourhood." said Diana's mum. "All I hope is that they don't play an instrument. I'm half deaf from Harley playing the drums. Thank goodness that only lasted for a month." Harley's mum grumbled. The next door neighbours house… We stared at Harley’s dad. Mum was terrified holding Dad’s hand as if something terrible was going to happen. Even Dad was worried. I tried my best to look normal. Then he looked at us. As though he knew something and I almost screamed and turned around.

The new neighbour arrived the next day. Weirdly a box was moving and gigantic. One person said, ‘’I hope they like our roses “another said “As long as they don't toss rubbish, then they'll stay.” The next day the box of cats grew bigger and bigger! “Oh no!” Izzy said, “it might explode!’’

Week 1: The Ordinary Anyone who walked down Threnody Crescent experienced the tingling feeling of foreboding which indicated that this street did not welcome strangers. In the early morning fog, the gargoyles which lurked on the garden walls seemed to watch the rare jogger or occasional car which rumbled down the street. Lanterns on wrought-iron poles lent the mist a bloodstained cast. The gabled roofs, bay windows and towers made the street seem like some kind of fairytale, an anachronism which didn’t belong even in the city’s historic Mountebank District. Threnody Crescent was… different. Despite the hour, flickers of activity could be detected in the street. Atop the stone tower which adorned her house, a young woman could be seen with a telescope, scribbling furiously in a notebook about planetary conjunctions. Occasionally, dark tresses of hair swinging wildly, she swivelled the telescope around to peer into the third-storey window of the house across the street. In the garden next door, a hunched, elderly man puttered around his garden in a pointed nightcap and a faded dressing gown embroidered with stars. Gripping a wickedly sharp pair of secateurs, he hacked away at the monstrous, spiny hawthorn bushes which encircled his yard. They had been meticulously groomed into abstracted topiary monsters. His lawn was also perfect, a sea of fly agaric, lilac bonnets, death caps and jack o'lantern mushrooms which wove together in a glowing sea of toxic fungus. He was murmuring under his breath in an irate manner. As the sun rose above the horizon and the mist cleared to an onyx, overcast sky, the inhabitants of Threnody Crescent set about their typical Saturday activities. Madam Delaney had pitched a fortune teller’s tent in her front yard and every so often one of her neighbours would trickle in - often across Mr Spinner’s painstakingly cultivated lawn, causing chaos as his beloved toadstools were trampled. “I’ve lived on this street for twenty-seven years, and if you young’uns think you can mess with my lawn then you’ve got another thing coming!” Loretta Faye had briefly alighted from her tower to collect her alchemy equipment, and amidst a column of smoke and the glass phials housing her strange concoctions, she continued to watch her neighbours with her eyes narrowed. She paid careful attention to the boy across the street - her arch-nemesis, Corbin du Deuil. They had both lived in the street for all of their fourteen years and had been enemies for as long as either could remember. Even Madam Delaney had no premonition of how their lives would be turned upside down by what happened next. A car pulled into the street. That in itself was not unusual. What was strange was that it stopped in front of the empty house. A woman with coily black hair and dark skin pulled a small girl out of the backseat. A tall man with hazel eyes and an elderly woman exited next. They walked up to the front door and pulled out a key. Week 2: The (Extra) Ordinary “I heard the empty house has a buyer,” Loretta muttered. She always enjoyed hearing - and spreading - rumours, but Corbin could tell her heart wasn’t in it because at that moment she was locked in an arm wrestle with him. He was winning. It didn’t help that she appeared to be trying to eavesdrop on the people who were sitting on a park bench slightly down the street. “I wonder what the new neighbours will be like,” said Corbin’s mother brightly. “Maybe they’ll have children. Won’t that be nice, Corbin, Loretta?” Neither of them answered, locked in fierce combat. “Well, whoever they are, they’d better know their way around a lawnmower,” growled Mr Spinner, “because frankly there are too many people on this street who’ve absolutely let theirs go. And I hope they don’t touch my lawn. If they touch my lawn…” Loretta snorted, and her hand slipped to the side slightly. Seizing his opportunity, Corbin pushed it into the table with razor focus. She made a face at him and turned to stare at the adults with an overtly indifferent air. “I wouldn’t have bought that house,” came the received pronunciation marking Lady Caeleste, a somewhat entitled woman who lived down the street, “I mean, just look at those tiles. I hope they have some taste at least.” “I hope they keep their curtains open,” Loretta remarked. “There’s only so much you can do with a pair of binoculars if they don’t open the curtains…” “Yes, Loretta,” Corbin deadpanned. “I do hope they go out of their way to indulge your compulsive nosiness.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You obviously don’t find it too difficult.” ***** “Come on Molly, let’s go on a walk now,” cooed Gramma Dearborn. The toddler obediently came and took her hand. “I’ll join you,” said Mrs Dearborn. “I still have some cookies to sell.” Mr Dearborn joined as well, and they all walked down the street, Molly swinging between her parents’ hands and occasionally stopping to pick a flower. The sunset paved the whole street golden, and Gramma Dearborn reflected on how lucky they were to have found such a nice house. She watched with satisfaction as her daughter-in-law flitted from door to door. The one next door was unanswered, but across the street a stooped, elderly man opened his door and squinted suspiciously. “To raise funds for the RSPCA,” she said cheerily. “What kind of cookies?” He asked grumpily. “Chocolate chip.” “Fine,” he said, handing over some coins and grabbing a cookie, “because your husband looks after his lawn.” Yes, that was her Quentin all right. Gramma smiled contentedly. The next door revealed a dark-haired girl with wide hazel eyes. “Cookie? To raise funds for the RSPCA.” Gramma missed the response because she was busy watching the geese which flocked across the sky. A cookie changed hands, and they set off down the street once again, basking in a warm, contented glow. ***** “Oh, Loretta, I’m so sorry not everyone lets you spy on them with your telescope while they’re trying to go about their business,” Corbin drawled. “Shut up.” “Oh, Loretta, I’m so sorry that I somehow let you kidnap me and now I’m making too much noise for your comfort.” “You should be more careful when you’re just walking down the street minding your own business. Terrible things can happen that way, you know,” she answered peevishly. She was annoyed because the Dearborns didn’t have the ‘dignity’ to always keep their curtains open and stand in front of the windows. He was annoyed because when you’re casually walking under a streetlamp, you don’t expect to suddenly find yourself hanging upside down in a net. Even if it was on Loretta’s side of the road. “Ah, good, they’re walking down the street.” She muttered. After a few minutes, a knock sounded at the door, Corbin was still tied up, but he could hear what was being said downstairs pretty easily. “Cookie?” Came Mrs Dearborn’s voice. “To raise funds for the RSPCA.” “How do I know this isn’t embezzlement fraud?” “Why would I…” “Fake charity scams accounted for over $400,000 losses in Australia last year.” “We aren’t in Australia…” “Oh, well. I like cookies.” Loretta came back upstairs chewing on a chocolate chip cookie. Corbin could smell it. He sighed. There really was something strange about those neighbours. Were they scammers? It seemed reasonable enough.

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.

Chapter 2 Part I Believe me, yelling in front of three wizard assassins when you’re trying to hide is about the most stupid thing anyone has ever done in the whole dimension. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that right then. “KILL HIM! HE CANNOT GIVE AWAY OUR SECRETS!” yelled an outraged Skulldeath. “I HAVE CAUSED MAYHEM FOR NINETEEN MILLION YEARS, DESTROYED FIFTY-NINE THOUSAND PLANETS! A LITTLE BOY CANNOT STOP ME!” Skulldeath was roaring so loud, I think you could hear it from outer space! I have to tell Mum and Dad, I thought. But as soon as I started running, Skulldeath had already noticed. “Oh no, you don’t! Duratus feet!” As soon as the words left his mouth, I felt as though my feet were rooted to the spot. “ Now, for some fun.” sniggered Skulldeath. “Apolyo tiger!” There was a long, blinding, red flash of light. The air became foggy. As it cleared, I saw a giant tiger charging straight for me! “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!” I screamed. None came. The tiger was getting closer, closer. I could smell the blood on its fangs. Goodbye, Aunt Georgia! Goodbye, Mum! Goodbye, Dad! Goodbye, Tommy (even though I always despised you) ! Oh why, why did I have to die like this? “Evannesco!” Suddenly, the feline vanished in mid-air. Skulldeath would never ever delete his own beast, I thought. Nor would Minotaur or Slimefoot, but then who? Skulldeath didn’t react at all. He just ordered to Minotaur “Give me the Defra ashes. Now.” “Uh-OK.” he replied. As soon as the black dust touched his hand, he threw it at me. It landed right next to me. The cinders burnt through the wooden floor! I couldn’t believe my eyes! “Give me more.” muttered Skulldeath. Minotaur obeyed, but little did they know I was prepared. Unfortunately, just before I set my plan into motion. Slimefoot muttered “ Duratus legs!”. My legs froze. How could I get out of this situation? The door creaked open. A towering, colossal giant came in. They stood right next to me and yelled “Intersapio!” A rainbow-coloured, transparent shield appeared in front of me. The embers slid down onto the floor, making It was getting light. Everyone was waking up. Minotaur, Slimefoot and Skulldeath had no choice but to hide. I heard one of them say “You may have won the battle, but you’ll never win the war!” As the sun rose up, everything got clearer. And after the colossal night I just had, my mooshed-up brain couldn’t receive even a cubic micrometre of information. But unfortunately, at the moment, it just had to. The giant was Aunt Georgia. Part II That day, I watched the new neighbours’ every move. I had told my family and Aunt Georgia what had happened at breakfast. Everyone but Tommy took it seriously. He said “Awwwwwww………Did someone have a nighty-nightmare?” That’s how Tommy is. He acts like he’s in high school, but he’s actually younger than me. Bingo! Skulldeath was (also known as Carl, as Aunt Georgia told me) at number 375. I threw over my extendable microphone. It missed. Again. Nope. And again. So close! When I threw it for the fourth time, it skidded across the fence and into the yard! Hooray! I hid it behind a bush, but still heard their dialogue. -“generous, thank you for the offer, darling.” said the lady who owned the place. “I can mow the lawn any time you like!” replied Skulldeath. I waited for someone to speak up, but for about ten minutes, there was pure silence. Suddenly, the deafening, grinding sound of a lawn mower hit my ears! It was so painful, I took the headphones off! Luckily, I didn’t need them. After another five minutes, I was thinking about going home when the woman squealed “WHY ARE YOU MOWING MY CAR?” Carl didn’t reply. He dropped the lawn mower and bolted back to his house. I didn’t blame him. If I were him, I would run away as well.

Racing into my home I peered over the fence as I discovered some relieving news. The smoke came from sausages and the sparks were the starting of a fire. It was just a normal backyard barbeque. Soon, Winter had caught up with me as she burst into my yard. I then discovered my new neighbor. Her short golden locks were hanging over her face, a bright purple dress shone in the sun. Guessing she’d decided to show her face, I asked my mum what her name was. Apparently, there was her mother (Mrs Packpun), her father (Mr Packpun) and her big sister (Rose Packpun). Which left her to be Daisy Packpun. “How lovely would it be if she could be your friend, girls?” cries Mum. “I hope they don’t disturb my silent reading. I’m just about to finish the last book of Harry Potter!” Winter worried. “Did you see their naked cat? It's as pale as a ghost!” I shouted. “Oh, stop worrying. I’m sure she’s a wonderful child who’s very lonely.” Mum commented. I gathered all of my courage as I made my way over with Winter. As soon as we knocked on the door, a lady with a long pink dress and silky beige hair appeared. We explained we wanted to welcome them and get to know what brings them to Roseinton Avenue in Forestville. “Where did you use to live before you moved?” Winter asked politely. I could tell she was trying hard not to scream at the naked cat. “We used to live in New York City. It was a lovely place.” Mrs Packpun replied. “Why’d you move if you were so happy?” I questioned. Winter gave me a hard kick in the leg (ouch!). Okay! I know, it's a bit of pressure when you’re being asked like that but I can’t help it! “Well, I got a new job here and so we had to move.” Mr Packpun answered. I offered them a box of handmade cookies to make them feel better. I had to admit, they looked pretty sad. As I was heading out the door a row of bizarre flowers were planted on the front lawn. Strange petals hung crookedly along the paranormal stem. I decided to ask the other neighbors what they thought of the Packpun family. Ms Billings said she thought they were very caring to look after her garden. Mr Catal replied saying he thought they were quite an odd bunch but are the perfect people for a conversation on a bright morning. Most of them said positive comments. Realising there's nothing to worry about I headed back home. There is nothing to worry about, right?

CHAPTER ONE “GATHER ROUND, PEOPLE, GATHER ROUND.” Bellowed Jimmy, standing on the table like he was the supreme ruler of everything. “YOU WILL NOW WITNESS THE HUMILIATING DEFEAT OF ARI ANDERSON IN ROUND ONE OF… Wait for it…” He paused for dramatic effect. “THE DRAWING COMPETITION!!!” The pedestrians walking by were either staring, chuckling, or muttering while they picked up whatever they dropped when they were startled by Jimmy’s yells about our drawing competition. I pulled Jimmy down off the table, which was hard, because I needed both hands to fully cover my face. “For crying out loud Jimmy, it’s just a bloody drawing competition. You don’t need to make such a hullabal-“ “THREE. TWO. ONE. DRAW!!!!” Screamed Jimmy, and started furiously scribbling on his piece of paper. “Jimmy, please. I’m not as, uhhh…” I tried to think of a word to describe his behaviour without saying “idiotic”. “Extroverted as you.” Jimmy stopped stabbing the paper and looked up. “What does Ex-to-vert-ed mean?” Ah, Jimmy. Not the brightest bulb in the light shop. “It means to, um, be really, um, loud, about, um, stuff. Confident is the word i’m looking for.” Jimmy stared at me. “But isn’t confidence a good thing?” “Jim, we’ve had this conversation a gazillion times. Confidence is good, but overconfidence is bad.” “But how am I supposed to know when i’m being overconfident?” I smirked slyly. “When you literally screamed to the entire neighbourhood that you were going to draw a better-looking elephant than me in less than a minute, but…” I pointed to my drawing of an elephant, which was extremely detailed by the way, and then to the timer, which had about thirty seconds left in it. Jimmy yelped and began furiously drawing again. Thirty seconds later, Jimmy had completely given up on his drawing and decided to ‘officially’ edit the competition into making paper planes. I had to leave when he started drawing rude pictures of things like an elephant doing a poo and then folding them into paper aeroplanes and chucking them over people’s fences. CHAPTER TWO You might wonder why a quiet, arts-and-crafts kind of child became friends with such a crazy kid. Well, it started about 2 years ago… ***DRAMATIC FLASHBACK…*** I was about eight years old when my dad suddenly said one night “We’re moving house.” And that’s pretty much all I can remember of the moving stage except for all the half-forgotten memories of a big truck and all our stuff getting hauled out of the house. But after all the moving and getting all our stuff into our new house, I found it hard to settle into an unfamiliar neighbourhood. But then Jimmy saw me sitting on a bench one day drawing by myself, and he sidled up to me and said, “Hey kid, you look lonely. Wanna be friends? Great! I’ll grab my drawing stuff.” Even though we are almost polar opposites, we still became friends. ***FLASHBACK DRAMATICALLY ENDS.*** I jogged home with my backpack full of drawing materials bobbing up and down, hurting my shoulders like crazy and keeping an ear out for the disgusted yells of the people who found a picture of an elephant poo in their flower patch. I lived on quite a nice street. Beside the sidewalk where rows of trees that over hung the road, almost creating a tunnel of branches and leaves. The occasional patch of dandelions gave the green grass a pattern of yellow polka-dots. The houses looked quite modern, with nice colour schemes. . I’m quite glad I moved here. I opened the door to my house and stepped inside. “Oranges.” Yelped Grandpa as Poppy (My pug) sprang off his lap and ran over to me. She jumped up and down all over me. “Alright, alright. I’ve only been gone for half an hour.” Grandpa harrumphed into his beard and sidled over into the kitchen. “There you are!” Cried Mum, who was setting the table. “We were just about to eat without you!” I was very glad they chose not to, because Friday was pizza night. Me, Grandpa, Grandma, Mum and Dad sat around the table. Poppy, our little black pug puppy was running in circles under the table hoping somebody would drop their pizza slice. After dinner, we moved to the lounge room to watch TV. It was my turn to pick a show. “Now, Ari, don’t put on anything stupid, or anything that you aren’t allowed to wa-“ “T H E S I M P S O N S.” Blared the TV. While me and mum argued whether The Simpsons was an appropriate show, a rickety old van trundled down the road. Eventually, the van pulled up and parked. Right into the driveway of the empty house next door. CHAPTER THREE I woke up at something like 6:00 in the morning by a loud knocking at the door. Instantly, Poppy began barking, and someone began cursing under their breath. Knock knock knock. Somebody answered the door. “Can I help you?” Asked Dad’s voice. “Err, yes. Ye see, ahhh, could you help us unpack our stuff from the trucks? Its hard work, and we need help.” There was a pause. “Uhhh… Ok, i’ll wake everyone up.” I heard Dad walk over to my room. “Alright, Ari, rise and shine.” He said and he walked in. “Quickly, get changed out of those filthy pyjamas and meet me outside.” Dad walked out and began waking everyone up. Once I had finished changing, I walked out of my bedroom and jumped a mile when I saw this strange man standing in the doorway. “Ey, kid.” He called. I panicked internally for a moment, not knowing who this guy was, but then I realised that he was the weirdo dad talked to at the door. Alright, fine, that makes me look quite stupid for not instantly realising something so obvious, but remember, I usually wake up at 9:00, not 6:00, so my brain was a bit addled in the first place. “Ey kid.” Called the man. “Can I come in?” The man was wearing this half-done up Hawaiian shirt with a horrendous pattern of mushrooms on it, with chest hair creeping out from the buttons he forgot to do up. His hair was odd. It has sort of a bouncy, bobby shiny look to it. It looked like a wig to me. His skin was quite wrinkly, like he’d been in a bath for hours. His ginormous feet were covered by these tattered nikes. And most of all, he stank like sweaty socks. “Ummm…” I mumbled, not really wanting this stinky man in our house, and also because it wasn’t really my decision to make. But, being so polite and a little bit intimidated, I said “Um, ok. Come in.” “GAH AH AH AH AH!!” He laughed. He sounded like a sea lion with an itchy throat. “Thanks!” He kicked off his shoes right at my feet, and then barged past me into the kitchen. Bemused, scared and offended, I followed him. The weirdo was rustling around in the fridge like a pig in mud looking for a carrot. Eventually, he pulled out something brown. And delicious. MY CHOCOLATE BAR. He has gone too far now. Time for some DRASTIC ACTION. I drew myself up to my full height. “Could you please not eat my chocolate bar? I was saving it. Thank you.” I squeaked in a tiny voice. He spun around and looked at me as if I was a bug on his shoe. He took his time, considering wether to squash me or not. “Kid.” He grunted, his nose sticking up. He really was like a pig. “You ever heard of this word? It’s called…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Sharing.” He said, and then splayed his arms out wide. “Does that resonate with you? Like, at all?” He asked expectantly with wide eyes, as if expecting smattering applause. I just stood there, looking frightened. He grunted, and took another bite out of my chocolate bar. MY CHOCOLATE BAR. I stood there fuming inside until dad came in. “Ok.” He said. “Everyone’s ready.” “Great.” Said the Weirdo, lounging on the couch. “I’m Chris, by the way.” “Nice to meet you, Chris. I’m Nate.” Said Dad. After we had all gone outside, Chris had began ordering us around. “Alright, so you.” he said to Mum, flicking his hand to a pile of boxes. “Move those boxes just innoo the doorway of the ‘ouse. You two,” He grunted, flicking a finger at Grandma and Grandpa. “Do that as well.” Oh dear. Two elderly people over 70 years old lifting ten-kilo boxes? Nuh-uh. I don’t think so. When Grandma and Grandpa started struggling with the boxes, Chris said, “Come on! Hurry! Chop Chop!” What blooming cheek! He had the nerve to order frail old people to lift massive heavy boxes and then COMPLAIN that they weren’t fast enough?! How dare he! I marched over to Chris and planted myself right in front of his eyeline, took a DEEP breath and squeaked, “AreyousurethatGrandmaandGrandpaarestrongenoughtoliftthoseboxes?” I squeezed out the words before I lost my nerve. “I-i mean, it might be, um, uhhhhh, a bit… heavy? For… them?” I gibbered. Chris stared down at me. “No.” He said flatly. He stared for a little longer. “Could you help my son move all the tables and chairs into the house?” He said. “Well, I-“ “Great! My son Julian is in the truck.” Oh great. Now I have to deal with his son. I walked into the back of the giant truck. “Hello?” I mumbled into the darkness. ‘Hello?’? How stupid. This isn’t a cave in an abandoned mineshaft. But the truck was big, and the further I went into it, the more it seemed like a mineshaft. I heard I rustling behind me. I spun around but there was nothing there. Probably just a… err… I have no idea what. And then it hit me. It was probably Chris’s son, Julian. “Very funny, Julian.” I called out into the blackness. “You’re not going scare m-“ “RAAARGH!!” Shrieked a voice behind me. I rolled my eyes and turned around. “Very funny, Julian. I know that you-“ I stopped talking immediately, for I was face to face with something with a long, crooked nose, needle-like teeth, and red blazing eyes. I screamed the loudest I had ever screamed in my life and I ran the fastest I ever had in my life. Straight out of the truck and into an empty box. Something kicked the box I was in, sending it tumbling down our driveway. Eventually I flopped out, battered and bruised. Something slapped into my head. It was the monster’s face. It was a mask. A wheezing, laughing laughing face was shoved next to mine. “GAAAAAAH AHAHAHAHA!” Screeched the face. “Nice to MEEET you, neighbour.” “Julian!” Said a girl’s voice. I spun around. A girl was standing behind me, looking angrily at Julian. She wasn’t nearly as ugly as him. Her face was pimple-free, had long dark blond hair, and wore pinkish-red glasses. “Why do you have to be so mean all the time?” Julian groaned and rolled his eyes. “I’m not mean. You’re just such a SAINT that ANYONE would look mean next to you. I’M just funny. You’re a whingeing angelic toad and an excruciatingly annoying sister!” “Go AWAY.” Growled Julian’s sister. “MAKE me!” He snarled back. ‘WHAT is going on here?!” Boomed Chris. Julian turned from a vicious, intimidating bully to a poor victim in seconds. He filled his eyes with tears. “S-Sammy was being mean to that k-kid so I tried to stop her, and she pushed me over and called me a toad!” Chris literally growled. “YOU! YOU ARE ALWAYS SO VILE TO YOUR BROTHER. GET INSIDE. NOW.” He shoved her away. “I am embarrassed to be your father.” He snarled as she ran off. “Are you alright, Julian?” Julian sniffed. “Yeah, i’m fine.” Chris looked at me. “Sorry Sammy bullied you kid. She’s disgusting. I see you’ve met Julian, my beautiful son.” He and tousled the boy’s hair. Like his father, Julian had small, piggy eyes, a big nose and a chin that looked like a butt. He had smooth, oily slicked-back hair. His face was covered in spots and pimples. Julian hauled me up by the collar and gave my hand a violent shake. It felt like he was going to rip my arm off. “That’s my handsome boy.” Beamed Chris. What a disgusting pair. “What’s your name, squirt?” Barked Julian once his father had strutted away. I hesitated. “A-a-a-Ari.” I mumbled. “WASSAT, BOY?” He shouted, cupping his hand to his ear. “CHOO SAY SUMFINK?” “WOT’S. YOUR. NAME!?” “A-Ari.” I said a little louder. “TANK YOU!” He pushed me away. “Now, git those chairs and get them innoo my ‘ouse.” The chairs were quite heavy, and Julian insisted that I move them 2 at a time. I was just going to get another stack of chairs when… “Hi, strangers!” Said a voice. Jimmy showed up. Julian stared at Jimmy. “HOO’S DISS IDIOT?” “My name is JIMMY THE GREAT!” Yelled Jimmy. Julian spat at Jimmy. “Heyyy!” Whined Jimmy. “Don’t spit at me, Pimple-face!” Chris walked over. “What did you just call my son? Pimple-faced? Listen, you little idiot, my son is a champion. He’s won hundreds of competitions. I think you could learn a thing or two from us.” He sneered at Jimmy. He turned to me. “Tell your little friend that he can move that table over there.” He snorted in my face, and strutted off, with Julian close behind. “Who were those idiots?” Jimmy asked me. “They’re our new neighbours.” I whispered back. Jimmy put his hand ver his mouth. “Man, i’m so sorr-“ “WHY AREN’T YOU MOVING THAT TABLE?!” Bellowed Chris. Jimmy picked up the table, walked a few paces, and then dropped it. “RIGHT.” Roared Chris, his face going red. “YOU. LEAVE.” He grabbed Jimmy and shoved him out onto the street. “Disgusting boy.” He muttered. After a full day of Chris bellowing around the place and Julian blowing spitballs and pushing people over, me and my family were seated at the dinner table. “What’s with those psychos? And why did they have to move here?” I said to no one in particular. “Chris is… well… he probably has some sort of anger issue. And Julian probably has some sort of disorder.” Mum sighed. “We just have to be patient and enduring of them.” After dinner, I opened my iPad and messaged Jimmy. ARI: You alright Jimmy? JIMMY: Of course i’m ok. But what buttheads. I cant believe they’re moving in next 2 you! I feel so sorry for you! ARI: Julian had a sister too. Her name was Sammy, i think. JIMMY: Oh no. Double trouble. ARI: No, actually, she was really nice. She stood up and defended me. But Julian framed her for being mean and then Chris sent her away. He got really mad. JIMMY: Ho is Chris? ARI: Their dad. JIMMY: Oh. Poor Sammy. ARI: I know. What buttheads. JIMMY: I’ve got a nickname for Chris already. ARI: What? The nickname Jimmy sent was so rude and insulting that I couldn’t help but laugh like crazy. “OI!” Bellowed a voice from next door. “SHUT UP! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!!!

Limping lies The salty air stung my eyes and the sea breeze whipped by hair. People hurried along paveways, their black cloaks like birds desperate to go with the wind. The stagnant air of the museum was stifling and I greeted the fresh air with pleasure. Grey clouds blanketed the sky and a thin fog started to gather. The sea was alive with waves that tossed sea foam onto the sand. I stared at the rickety houses and waved to our neighbours. Iris and Harold were frequent visitors of Addison's Hall of Quirks and Wonders. Iris would often bring us freshly baked goods and Harold would donate us interesting pieces of glass and shells he found at sea. I shook my head trying to get the thought out of my head. Something was happening. I could feel it. I squinted into the thick sea of people and I saw a limping man. A small silver box poked out of his pocket and I knew exactly who he was. Inside the box was a key. A key to the house in front of us. The new tenant had a sharp cane and a proud limp. Everyone in the whole of Sardine harbour knew that to have a limp was nothing to be proud of. You wouldn't be able to work and feed the harbour.This man clearly didn't know his Sardinian ways. Part two Does the new tenant mow his lawn? I do hope so Barbara. They better not get up at five in the morning to mow it though. You are very right Mary. I hope they'll give us fresh jam for our toast! Seriously Anna is that all you care about?! I stared at the gossiping ladies wondering what rumours the were going to spread. I glanced at the old house when I noticed tightly drawn blinds. When the man came out he was wearing old fishermen's clothes. I took a walk by the sea to clear my thoughts. I knew something was up he was secretive and private. Too private. He hadn't spoken to any of our neighbours and he seemed to know his way around already. Part 3 I snuck around the gate in my black suit. There were stares and whispers, glances and sniggers. What was wrong with me. Did I look weird, did wear the wrong clothes? Calm down. This is an ordinary town. With ordinary houses and a not so ordinary girl. With a spatter of freckles, a mop of brown hair and frost coloured eyes. Her eyes were fixed at me so I ran. I ran as fast as I could. Darling, can you tell me why the man was behaving ever so strangely? How would I know Barbara. I bet he has some bad business going with the kid. Mary you are being so obnoxious. He is just trying to befriend her. A middle aged man befriending a girl like Adele! No way Anna.

When the planets was created and humans had just started to roam the Earth, an evil spirit sat above the cosmos, pondering on her dilemma. Inclementia, the demon of the underworld was contemplating the task that the mother goddess had set for her. Amalthea had told Inclementia to pay a visit and warn the humans. She found this as an opportunity to wreck havoc upon Earth, but she desperately wanted a spot in the high court of heavenly gods. Nevertheless, mischievousness overtook her as it always had, and Inclementia sped down to the planet in a bright light of purple, her unmistakable clawed feet behind her. The humans didn't notice the unfamiliar hooded figure that ambled down dirt paths. They didn't notice the slightly clawed footprints that followed the mysterious profile. Everyone except one. Minerva had sensed that the clumsy person underneath the black cloak was not ordinary. Born in a family of judges and high court advisors, she had lived an isolated life. Adrenaline tingled beneath her veins, the feeling wanting to be unboxed but silenced by strict words. That night as stars speckled the midnight blue sky, Minerva crept from her panelled bed. The cold grass tickled her feet and she longed to run across the rolling hills. Suddenly, she heard metal fall against metal. Minerva turned around slowly and saw a silhouetted figure in the moonlight. Clawed footprints followed the being and her heart raced as she recognised the outlines. Inclementia. The Merciless. It was too late. The demon ran towards Minerva with outstretched hands and she frantically searched for anything to throw at the spirit. A silver blade glinted in the moonlight and she grabbed it with her shaking hand and plunged it into the icy cold air, straight into the demon's heart. The scream of Inclementia was the last thing she heard as the ringing in her ears overtook her senses. As ribbons of pink and yellow swirled in the dying light, Violet sat at the windowsill and gazed at the houses opposite her. House 56 had been abandoned for 13 years and the old couple that had lived there had vanished in the most suspicious circumstances. The street wasn't normal. It was separated from the main road that all the houses branched from. The houses were near the harbour and the salty air was in Violet's veins. The neighbourhood was peaceful. Until the arrival of a new neighbour. Cecilia and Robert Hazelwood had lived in the house opposite Violet. House 56. When the new neighbour arrived, she was nothing to what she had expected. With midnight black hair that hung loosely over her shoulders, she had happily answered to all of the neighbours nosy questions. The new neighbour revealed herself to be Clementina and she had recently moved into the city. More neighbours crowded around her and people came out of their houses to see what the noise was about. Violet watched the scene unfold through her bedroom window. She could sense that Clementina was unusually reserved, as if underneath her picturesque face was an entirely different person.

Next day, Leena opened her eyes, and yawned. She picked up her daggers, went down the stairs, grabbed a roll, and walked out of the door. Leena walked across the street, and knocked on the door of Bill’s house. Bill answered the door. ‘You’re just in time for my invention!’ Bill said. He dragged Leena up 3 flights of stairs, and they went into Bill’s room. Bill’s room was a comfy room, if you ignored the scorch marks on almost every available surface. Bill ran to the centre of the room, and picked up a weird contraption thing. ‘I think I’ve finally got it made,’ he said excitedly. ‘A contraption that can fry eggs!’ he brought a frying pan out, and put it on the thing. He then pressed a button, and put an egg in a slot. The machine lit a fire underneath the pan, and rolled the egg on the pan. The egg smashed, leaving shell all over the pan. A claw picked the egg shell pieces out. Some egg white dripped into the egg fryer. The machine stopped, and made a sputtering sound. ‘Duck!’ Bill yelled, and they both ran into the cupboard, Bill grabbing Fluffles, the fluffy white cat. There was a loud explosion. Bill peered around the door, grabbed his water bottle, and poured water on the fire. It fizzled, and went out. ‘Phew,’ Bill said. ‘Well, that’s definitely a failure.’ ‘Yup,’ Leena said. ‘Well,’ Bill said, ‘what about that Mr Evans?’ ‘Mr Evans?’ Leena said. ‘Is that the name of the guy we saw with the Barry’s best dog food truck?’ ‘Yeah,’ Bill said. ‘My mum invited him over for dinner last night. He was really nervous. It was as if he had never really been around people before. In the end he left early.’ ‘Weird,’ Leena said. ‘Anyway, can you help me erect the target board? I’ve just finished painting it.’ ‘Alright,’ Bill said. ‘Let me just…’ he grabbed a box of donuts that had miraculously survived the egg fryer’s explosion, and pulled one out, along with some cat food for Fluffles. Then, they went outside. Leena went inside her house and grabbed the target board. She rolled it down the steps, being careful not to make any noise. Her mum and dad were still sleeping. Leena brought the target board, and saw Bill waiting with a bottle of his home-made super glue, and Fluffles in his arms. The super-glue was made with a combination of different super-glues, and hardened in a minute after being squirted out. Leena took the bottle from Bill. ‘Hold this up for me, will you?’ she said. Bill lifted the circular board up, and Leena glued the back of it to the tree. They both crept up the stairs, and up into Leena’s room. Bill settled himself down on a bean bag, while Leena opened the window, and stared down at the target board. She took careful aim, and threw. It thunked into the target board. Just then, Mr Evans came out of his house. Leena threw another dagger. It thudded next to the first one. Mr Evans walked over to Leena’s house, and stared up at the window. ‘Hey!’ he called up. ‘What are you doing? You could kill yourself with those things!’ Leena leant out of the window. ‘I’ve done this before Mr Evans!’ she shouted back. ‘Don’t worry!’ just then, a bird landed on the window sill. Fluffles leapt for the window, and knocked Leena’s hand. The dagger slipped, and fell directly into Mr Evans’s leg! ‘Oh my!’ Leena exclaimed. She ran down the stairs, with Bill who had seen it as well. ‘Are you all right, Mr Evans?’ she asked. ‘Yes, quite all right,’ he said, inspecting the wound with interest. He pulled the dagger out of his leg. ‘I’ll be fine.’ ‘Aren’t you hurt?’ Bill asked, worriedly. ‘Hurt?’ the Mr Evans asked. ‘Oh yeah, hurt!’ he hurriedly made a few pained noises, and clutched at his leg. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’ll be off then.’ Then, he walked off with an obviously fake limp. ‘What was that about?’ Bill asked. ‘I have no idea,’ Leena said. She knew that there was something strange about that man. And she was going to find out what it was.

In a little-known town in the country side of England, called Blackbrey, an odd and mysterious old lady has appeared. She has come to the town to live in the old run-down windmill. It was basically sold for nothing because no one wanted it. Many think that is why she is interested in it but a few think otherwise. “Have you heard all of the gossip about the old hag that moved into the old windmill?” asked Charly. “Yes, yes but do you really believe all of that crap like she is a witch? I bet she is just an old sweet lady” Mary replied. “I believe she is just an old grumpy grump like Charly” said Scarlet with a sneer. “Hey, how dare you!” protested Charly “Oh, stop it you two, do you think that the rumours are true like she is that murder, kid napper stuff” said Mrry “Ha! She can barely lift a shovel to do her garden much less than a knife!” Charly bellowed. “But it is weird isn’t it? That she has this vibe this feeling that set me off, don’t you agree?” Marry asked “I do” Scarlet and Charly said at the same time. “To clear up all of this mess let’s just go over to her house and say hi” Marry proposed. “Fine let’s make it quick” Charly responded. After a short hike up hill, they made it to the great old windmill. But strangely the old mill was working, the old arms were spinning. “That’s imposable, the mill hasn’t worked since my mom was a kid” Scarlet said mystified. “Your right and last I saw that the wheat fields were dry and covered in weeds” Marry replied. “Why does it look brand new?” Charly questioned. “Now I am starting to believe that these rumours of her being a witch is true” Scarlet responded “Are you two done now? she probably got it renovated, so let’s go and ask her” Marry said. When that girls were done bickering, they knocked on the door but there was no response. As if there was no living soul in there. But on the third knock the door creeped open and a very elderly lady stepped out. She looked like she had lived a thousand years of misery. Her frown made Charly and Scarlet look like pleasant people. When she took one look at them, she yelled "Get out of my house!" so loudly that one of her pot plants exploded! Then she slammed the door so hard that it barely stayed in one piece. “That went well, I guess I was right that she was an old hag” Charly said in shock. “This is going to be hell with her around” Mary murmered.