DON’T ASK ME WHY I HATE HEAVEN I JUST DO.

That’s when I meat Chris the head of guardian angles, he has beautiful blue eyes that shine like diamonds and pure gold hair. With the palest colored skin I have ever seen. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a light blue t-shirt, with a flashing smile of his pearly whites he held out his hand to help me.

“Hi, Star I’m Chris the head of guardian angles and you have been ch…..” said Chris suddenly being cut of by Star “How do you know my name.” “I know every one’s name and as I was saying you have been especially chosen by me to be a guardian angle.” replied Chris “why did you pick me to be a guardian angle.” star splutters. suddenly there was the sound of fire works with a twist.

to be continued……………..

I ran to the school bus as quick as lightning, I had been up since 1am but I still was late for school.It was bugging me all the time I was at school even talking to my best mate Molly did’nt help I was so scared.

Me and Molly took the short cut home that day (I wish I had’nt). I walked across the road saying goodbye to Molly then I remembered my gloves I lent molly that day. As I steped into the rode I saw lights and the scream I heared that morning it was Molly she was the one screaming I knew then I was dead.

To be continued…………..

I looked out of the slightly tinted windows. I could see the frost settling down on the ledge of the window, ready to freeze what ever it comes in contact with. I took a deap breath and gave a long sigh. Winters like this havent come before. As I sighed I noticed my breath. It was long and white. Like a dragon blowing steam from its huge flaming nostrils. The bus was cold and it didnt help having no heating what-so-ever. I looked down at my bag and was bracing my self for the next stop. This one I feared the most. The noise on the bus was peacful but that all stopped when Kara came on. Kara was my friend. I relaxed when she was off and went totally mental when she was on. We laughed and did a bit (or alot) of screaming! The boys didnt like this. I think their totally jealous and just want to be more like us. So when they have a go at us for being to noisy, Kara defends me and i do the same for her. After all we are BFF’s! We dont notice the time and by no time at all the bus had pulled over at DGGS and we exited cardinal coaches!

Tonight she happened to be on her way to her ‘home’ in Dorset. She thought this place was REVOLTING and longed to live somewhere else. So she planned for an escape one day. However tonight was different. Before now she had never seen anyone with hair out of the ordinary colours – blonde, brown, red, black etc… – but crowded round a small building were people with blue, green and pink hair. She looked at them. They were sorta scary. They had noserings and black eye make-up and god knows what else attached to them. Draenite glanced around wearily and trudged up towards them. A girl with no hair other than a green pony tail and small spike on her head said “Oi, we’ve got a new comer. Wicked clothes she’s got too” She introduced herself as Alaina. “um…. Hi, I’m Draenite.” She stuttered to the crowd now staring at her. As though in a trance they all said. “Hi Draenite” Draenite was beginning to feel nervous. Her hands sweated and her body seemed to freeze. What was she doing? Why was she standing here after a perfectly Awful night, when all she wanted to do was go to bed?
“Oi, Draenite. Ive got a little drink here. Wanna try?” A Boy with a long blue hair shouted to her.
“Umm…. No thanks.”
“Awww… go on, dont be a baby!”
They all stared at her. What could she do?…

 To Be Continued…

Now think about what you would do in this situation. Comment plz!!
(Hope you enjoyed)

To Be Continued…

ONCE UPON A TIME a killer lived at willowy house. It was not a man, werewolf, giant beetle, bee, vampire, ghost, or some other seventh thing. It was indeed, a dog, a Great Dane. His name was Creen. He is three years old, and he is black in colour with only one white paw (right, front paw). His owner is called mastiff white and he loved his best pal, Creen. Creen is not what you would call a normal dog. Well he’s as normal as a great white shark coming out of the water and walking up to you saying “Hi there how are you today?”

He was out a walk one day with his owner, when he was confronted by a man with a gun, now Creen was not very smart, he barely new the difference between a computer and a cloud, but this time was different, he new something was wrong. He new he had to do something but what, what! Then it hit him, His tail whipped into a point, His claws dug into the ground, His ears pricked up and his white, sharp, needle like teeth bared. The man with the gun slowly backed away from Creen. But oh no not you don’t get away that easy, Creen gave a mighty leap and knocked the mugger over, Growling as he did so. Creen saved mastiffs life that day and for that mastiff was forever grateful.

Creen was sitting by the house fire warm and cosy like a bug with a rug in a mug, Except there was no rug, he was not a bug, and he was not burnt in a mug, but that completely destroys the point. “CREEN! I’M GOING IN THE TOWN FOR SOMETHING, DON’T EAT ANYTHING, OK?” that was mastiff’s voice, shouting. Creen lifted his big black sad head to his OWNER’S voice and the lowered it when it stopped. Soon he fell fast asleep. Cosy and warm at the fireside. His dream was about him, Creen, winning a dog championship. “And the prize goes to,” The stout, handlebar moustache, Apricot of a judge Shouted “CREEN!!!!!” a loud cheering came from the crowds, creen, on the other hand gave a loud howl: “HOOOOOOOOOOOWL” Suddenly the crowd and the apricot judge turned into a broken window which the sound of someone breaking a window or glass came from. Creen immediately woke up, Startled by the noise, saw it was a man with a gun wearing black.

TO BE CONTINUED……………

Rachel threw the curtains together, tightly shut. “No” she said to herself, “it cannot be, he cannot be” she peeked out through the mocha brown curtains to find his icy blue eyes staring straight into her own. Rachel gasped out in surprise and hid behind her desk. “Get a grip, women!” she told herself. “There is no such thing as ghosts and he does not exist, that is all in your past. You need a holiday.”

All of a sudden the phone started to ring in its usual dull and droning tone. Rachel picked it up. “Headmistress of Barkley Comprehensive, may I ask to whom I am speaking?”

“Keep telling yourself lies Rachel, then one day you might just believe them.” The dialing tone began as the phone was put down. Leaving Rachel standing speechless.

That night Rachel pulled out a green box from beneath her bed. Her chest tightened. She slowly pushed the buckle and lifted the lid. It creaked with age. In it there were several paper files. Rachel took out the first of the cream folders. In it were photos. Photos of when she was young. Hot tears ran down her cheek as she had a flash back of her child hood.

*the girl aged ten was being pushed on a swing, screaming “Higher! Higher!” when her demand was met she squealed with glee. She felt so free, and so high! And then all of a sudden, it stopped.

She was dragged back to reality. As she got of the swing she saw her father talking to the police man. “We are very sorry; there was nothing we could do,”Her father sat her down that afternoon and explained that a man had shot her mother. The police had luckily turned the corner to find them, but when he saw them he pulled the trigger and ran. That night Rachel cried until she had no tears left.

However, things in the next three years got rapidly worse. Her father started drinking. At the beginning it was not much. “Just a small drink with my mates,” he had said. Then it escalated to the point that she came home every night drunk and that fact soon led to her being hit and shouted at. Not very Father like. Then one night, he did not return. She was 14. She was too scared to stay until she got a phone call from the police telling her that the same fate had happened to father as well as her mother, so she ran away. She packed her bags and got a bus to her aunts’ who had brought her up ever since. She had grown up believing she was an orphan.*

Rachel got up and solemnly closed the lid with a soft click. He had left her so vulnerable, and with so little and now he had come back to haunt her.. He had ruined that part of her life all for the sake of alcohol and bad memories. Now she knew what she must do, to rid her life of him, and to stop him haunting her forever.

It was in the papers later that month. Man brutally and mysteriously killed. Police suspect potential murder. On the following page, “head teacher resigned from local secondary, out of the blue, no reasons given.” 

It was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, mid January, with the rain lashing on the window panes and the biting wind howling outside when the stranger first arrived. Walking down the streets with resolute determination he headed towards the school. His shoes slapped down against the slippery pavement, his dark eyes flashed as he stomped along with his trench-coat billowing out behind him.

Everything about Dranfield Grammar School was perfect- the uniforms, the grounds, the buildings. Every parent in the area wanted their precious child to attend the school. With the best results in the country Dranfield Grammar School was indeed perfect.

Outside the stranger paused, looked up into the rain towards the assembly hall and glared. How he hadn’t missed that dank, dark, suffocating hall. Students at Dranfield were accustomed to impulsive assemblies. Their headmaster often called an assembly mid afternoon to discuss achievements. That day was no different. As each form marched into the hall military style, Mr Clarkson swept in and smiled, admiring his hard work. Whilst he climbed the steps to the stage, he was thankful that he had weeded out the ‘problem’ teenagers before you could say ‘top of the league tables’.

 Stacey had been working hard in reception when he entered. An involuntary shiver shot down her spine. “Hello, how can I help you?” she inquired, her smile plastered to her face.

His appearance was dishevelled and there was something about him that wasn’t right. She just couldn’t put her finger on it. He gave a sinister smile as he took out the revolver from his pocket. She froze.“Another round of applause please.” Mr Clarkson flashed a smile at the pupils and carried on with the assembly.

He crept into the room noiselessly. “So Emma said that Beth said that you fancy Jamie. Do you?” As the year elevens who had skipped assembly smoked their cigarettes and chewed gum fervently they discussed their favourite subject- who fancies whom. Abruptly the temperature of the room dropped and the girls turned round instinctively. Catching sight of the gun in the man’s hand they shrieked and were still shrieking when they hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Assembly carried on with Mr Clarkson explaining the importance of every student being in attendance for exams. It was a waste of time, considering that his students never, ever had a day off. 

The stranger continued, his pace quickening as he neared the hall. His opportunities in life had been thrown away when Clarkson had ‘weeded’ him out for a crime he hadn’t committed, this was payback.

As Mr Clarkson finished his speech he noticed the door opening at the side of the hall. He had half been expecting this to happen. One day. Mr Clarkson nervously smiled at the panic stricken faces of staff and pupils alike and muttered under his breath “I expelled you… Didn’t I? I’m sure I…”

The stranger, interrupting Clarkson, bellowed “IT WASN’T MY FAULT. I DIDN’T DESERVE IT” before progressing to the front of the hall.He strode to the centre of the stage, pushed the revolver to Clarkson’s temple and whispered “I didn’t do it”, before slowly and deliberately pulling the trigger, a sick, twisted smile on his face.

Hannah 10H

Lacey stood frozen, her fingers pressed to the cold, rain-streaked glass.  Questions flooded her mind – where was he going?  What did he seek at the school?  A shiver travelled down her spine.  The figure paused and turned to unzip the bag.  It was then that she saw his face – completely masked by a black balaclava.  She shuddered…he was definitely up to something, Lacey was sure of it.  She peered through the grimy glass, observing the man’s every move.  He fumbled in his bag and finally brought a mobile phone.  He then continued walking until he reached the towering padlock gates of the school and halted.  The gates were locked at the weekend, programmed by an electronic code.  After checking the phone screen, he replaced it in his bag before quickly typing a sequence of numbers.  Seconds later, the gates creaked open.  The stranger paused and surveyed his surroundings stealthily before proceeding. 

Adrenaline rushed through Lacey and her hands began to shake.  How had he gotten that code?  Why was he going to the school at the weekend?  She racked her brains for answers unsuccessfully.  What was she going to do?  She couldn’t just sit back and forgot what she had just witnessed.  The way he had looked around before entering was highly suspicious.  Lacey sighed in despair, what was she to do – follow him?  Her parents were out and wouldn’t get back for hours.  If that was what she was to do, they wouldn’t find out.  She made up her mind, not even pausing to debate the consequences.  She then pulled on her boots and rushed out of the house, gripping her buttoned coat tightly.  

Lacey groaned as a gust of wind sent pellets of icy rain into her face.  Still, she trudged determinedly towards the back of her school.  If she wanted to find out what was going on she would have to remain undetected. To do this, Lacey was going to use the back entrance.  She crept quietly down the stairs and found herself standing in the stale basement.  The walls were peeling, the floor mouldy and a damp scent hung in the air.  Suddenly, she heard a shrill, piercing scream…

Lacey swung around in fright, and her pulse began to race.  She felt her heart hammering in her chest.  Her eyes fell upon the view in front of her and her racing pulse stopped.  There lying in front of her was the secretary, Miss Watkins – her hands chained to the wall, her hair dishevelled, her complexion paler than ever.   The stranger knelt by her side, grasping a sharp glinting object.  Terror flashed through his eyes and he lunged at Lacey with the knife.  What happened next was blurred.  The last thing Lacey remembered was her head colliding with the floor.  Her world then turned black… she was gone.

Once upon a time lived a young girl called Chloe Wells. she had long blue hair and eyes of silver. she had a green face of such beauty. Her boyfriend, Hitch was 16 he had blue eyes and blonde hair. So with that I start chloe’s tale!

She was a fairy who lived in the underworld. with the undead and the skeletolls, she was trapped a slave to the undertaker death. And then one day a wizard called bob came and kiled the undertaker death, so to thank the wizard Chloe went out with his son Hitch. However because of this, everone became undead- they couldn’t die in fact Chloe was the only fairy that couldn’t die, she was an angel, so because Hitch was half wizard he made Chloe in to a mortal and they lived happily ever after.