Jane

Finally for today, here's a short story I submitted for a ghost story writing competition. I didn't win before you ask, though someone on the same MA did.

Jane

“It only started just after her birthday actually” Emily begins to explain as she wipes the soap suds off the chopping board. “A couple of days after her party she was out in the garden playing with her teddies when she comes back in asking for some tea and cakes. I told her that she couldn’t because dinner would be ready in a couple of hours. And then she says ‘no not for me, for my new friend. She’s just come over for tea.’ At first I thought she meant that new doll you got her for her birthday, but then I see her sitting on the lawn talking to herself. She spends almost all day out there now, just playing with this imaginary friend.”

      I smile as I cradle my hot mug of coffee. “It’s perfectly natural for a child Hayley’s age to have an imaginary friend” I reply. “I would encourage her. It shows she has an active imagination that isn’t constrained by those blasted video games you buy her.”

      “But that’s just it Mum. She hasn’t touched her DS in days. Before I had to pry it from her hands with a crowbar.”

      My smile broadens. “Good that she’s got some sense in her at last” I remark, sounding as smug as I feel.

     Emily throws some spoons into the sink with a heavy clunk. “Oh don’t start Mum. It’s what kids do these days.”

      I decide to agree to her request. I’m also fed up with arguing over the upbringing of my only grandchild. I gaze through the window that looks out over the long, thin garden surrounded by tall brick walls. My seven year old granddaughter Hayley is sitting on a picnic blanket spread over the immaculately mowed lawn, surrounded by stuffed animals. She is paying no attention to them however. She is instead pouring an imaginary cup of tea from a plastic teapot, before placing the cup down at her side. All the while she is chatting away merrily as though she is playing hostess to an extremely special guest.

       Watching her play reminds me of my own childhood. This is mostly because I used to conduct my own tea parties in this very garden. This house has been passed down through my family for six generations now, always on the mother’s side. I inherited the house at the age of twenty when my own mother died, and lived in it for thirty five blissful years with my husband before he too passed on. Then Emily fell pregnant with Hayley at the same time that my son in law got a job in the city, so it became very convenient for them to move in whilst I took residence in a small rented flat down the road.

     This house is at least fifty years older than all of the neighbouring buildings, and is also a lot bigger. It is the only break in a long row of terraced houses that flank a moderately busy road leading to the centre of town. It is of early Victorian design, built out of dark stone and is three stories high. The only parts of its interior that have been unchanged during my lifetime are its heavy oak panelled doors and its uneven wooden staircases. This house means everything to me and I was heartbroken when I moved out of it. Whenever I return I can almost sense the building welcoming me home.

      When I undertook a little piece of research into its history I discovered that it was initially intended to be a school. It had served that purpose to begin with, but only for a decade. Then there was a terrible scandal in which a girl whom had been consistently abused and beaten by the teachers died at their hand. They had buried her body in the garden and claimed she had run away. It would take a further eight years for her body to be found, by which time the school had already been closed. Subsequently the house had been abandoned for many years, until my great, great grandparents bought and took residency in it. I’m not sure why they were attracted to a property with such a grisly history, but secretly I am glad they were.   

       I take a hearty sip out of my coffee. “I had an imaginary friend too you know” I tell Emily as she pulls the plug out of the sink.

     She gives me a strange look, as if she finds my statement difficult to believe. “I can’t imagine you having an invisible friend” she remarks.

      “Her name was Jane” I reveal as I summon up memories of my childhood, something I am finding increasingly more difficult to achieve with each passing year. “She was a very pretty thing, tall and skinny with very long red hair and an immeasurable number of freckles. She was always dressed in the same flowing white nightdress in her bare feet, and she always carried this raggedy bear with one of its button eyes missing.”   

     “That’s pretty in depth” Emily replies. “You talk like she was actually real.”

     “Well to me she was as real as my mother and father.  Sometimes I could have sworn that she was standing at my side actually talking to me. We would spend all day playing hopscotch, having skipping competitions and then finishing off the day with pretend tea and scones. Amazing what the imagination can come up with, particularly that of a child as young as Hayley. ”

      By now Emily is no longer paying attention to my sentimental ramblings. She has returned to staring at her daughter through the kitchen window. Hayley is now playing pat-a-cake with herself, outstretching her arms rhythmically as if there is someone clapping hands with her in tandem. She loses her rhythm and throws her hands up in the air in defeat, happily giggling to herself. As she watches her Emily has a look of concern on her face that only a mother could recognise. “I’m really worried about her Mum” she eventually utters.

     “Nonsense, let her have her fun.”

     “But this is bordering on obsession. Her behaviour has completely changed since she started believing in this friend. ”

      “Children are like that. They’ll throw themselves into a brand new hobby with all the enthusiasm in the world until something else gets their attention. She’ll grow out of it.”

       My words have not managed to reassure her. “How long did it take you to grow out of it?”

      “About a year I think. One day I was playing with her as I always did; the following day I woke up and it was as if she had never existed. I was actually quite upset. I remember feeling as if she had abandoned me, or moved away. I was right as rain a week later though.” I am amazed that I can remember all of this in such great detail. I wonder if my belief in Jane had a bigger effect on my childhood then I remember.

        Emily closes her eyes and exhales loudly. “I know you think I worry too much, but she changed so fast. I just want my little baby back!”

      “Don’t all parents?” I ask as I drift into memories of Emily’s childhood. There were no imaginary friends to cater for with her; she was as practical then as she is now. How could it possibly have been thirty three years since I first held her in my arms?

     Emily pulls off her rubber gloves and throws them onto the draining board agitatedly. “Could you go talk to her? She might respond differently to you.”

     “You don’t need me to do that Emily. Just accept it and play along with her.”

      “I’ve tried but I’m just no good at that sort of stuff. Please Mum, just for a minute.” 

    Finishing my coffee in one large gulp I rise up from my seat. “Let’s meet this new friend of hers then” I remark as I move to the door leading to the garden, Emily following closely behind me.

    I step into the warm summer evening and the smell of freshly cut grass. I take the gravel pathway at the side of garden towards where Hayley is sitting on the picnic blanket with her back to me, so all I can see is her long blonde hair. She is singing, ring a ring a roses it sounds like, and is pouring out yet more imaginary cups of tea. “Hello sweetheart. Lovely day for a tea party isn’t it?” I say as I draw closer.

      She doesn’t reply. She continues to pour the tea, thoroughly absorbed in her own little world. Now standing right behind her I kneel down so I am almost talking into her ear. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” I suggest in the hope of gaining a reaction. Again nothing. “How about I go inside and get you both a big glass of orange squash?” I then ask.

     “No thank you Grandma” Hayley replies plainly, not turning to look at me.

     “Why ever not? Orange squash is your favourite, and I’m sure your friend would like some.”

     Hayley pauses, before saying as if it is the most natural thing in the world “because she doesn’t know what orange squash is.”

      Now I begin to see why Emily has been having concerns. I have never seen my granddaughter this uncommunicative before. I am getting the distinct impression she would rather I left her alone completely. Behind me Emily takes a step forward but I raise my hand to stop her.

     “Well I see you have plenty of tea, but you seem to be running low on cakes. How about I go inside and get you some nice current buns? Maybe some scones and jam as well. Your friend knows about scones and jam I take it?”

      Hayley cups her hands over her mouth, leans to the right and begins to whisper, as though she is talking into the ear of someone sitting beside her. She then turns her head to the side, now receiving instructions from her invisible friend. “Yes please Grandma, she would really like that” Hayley finally replies.

     “Well let me go get some for you then” I say as I rise to my feet again. I make eye contact with Emily and give her a reassuring smile before I begin to trundle back up the path.

      Suddenly Hayley calls out “Grandma.”

      I turn to see her staring at me with her deep blue eyes fixed rigidly on my position. Smiling gently I ask “yes sweetheart. What is it?”

      “Jane says she’s really missed you.”       

The Renegades - Prologue

Early this year I did a writing for children module on my MA, during which I began to fully develop a new idea for a childrens novel that I have had knocking about for quite some time now. It went a lot better than I anticipated, to the point where I ended up submitting the first five chapters of what will be my first overall draft for my final portfolio.As it stands I am about 6-7 chapters away from having a complete first draft, and I aim to have it done by at least Christmas, ideally by late October, early November. Depends how many scones I end up serving in the meantime.

This particular extract will either be my prologue or my third/fourth chapter. I had a lot of shenanigans placing it when I was compiling my portfolio. I like it as an introduction, but everyone else thinks it should be included after introducing my other main character. But anyway, it kind of stands alright on its own, provided you're hunky dory with the concept of teenage superheroes. Hope you enjoy it.

   

The alarm rang out into the night over the rooftops of London. People in the nearby houses woke up groggily at the sound of its high pitched whine, but when it stopped a few seconds later it didn’t take them long to return to sleep. However, this presented an entirely new set of problems for the robbers that had activated it.

    “I thought you’d shut down the alarms” the group leader hissed at his subordinate.

     “Only the ones I know about. That alarm wasn’t on the schematic” his subordinate hissed back, now beginning to sweat underneath his balaclava.

     “Whatever, just get this thing open” the leader replied, shining his torch at the large metal door. His subordinate nodded and placed a circular device over an electronic keypad at the doors side. He pressed some buttons and small blue screen lit up as thousands of possible combinations of digital numbers flashed past.

     His leader kept on staring at the safe door with greedy intent. Once he had possession of its contents he could retire, and with enough money to last the rest of his life. Years of small time bank jobs and hiding from the police had finally paid off. After this final job he could put his life of crime behind him and buy himself a large villa somewhere hot and out of the way. Maybe he could bag a pretty young lady or two.

      They had planned this operation meticulously, watching the research centre for weeks to learn the routines of its employees. Having picked the night where they would encounter the least resistance, it had simply been a case of cutting off the building’s main power supply before restraining the security guards and few late working researchers. Only then could they begin breaking into the safe, in which lay the object they were being paid a large amount of money to retrieve.

      The device gave a loud chirp as it completed its task, which was followed by a loud clunk as the safe unlocked. Moving forward slowly, as if doing so would wake up a monster lurking behind the metal door, the leader grasped the circular handle and began turning it like the wheel of a ship. It was stiff and obviously not opened very often. There was another clunking sound, and pulling the handle back the door slowly swung open. The two robbers picked up their torches and slowly moved inside.

     The interior was filled with shelves and drawers, on which were numerous files and paperwork. The two crooks ignored these and continued to search the rest of the interior. Eventually the light from their torches fell onto a silver coloured metal briefcase lying on a shelf. When they saw it they both gave relieved smiles, before the leader picked it up by the handle.

      Picking up his radio from his belt he said into it “We have the case. How are our hosts?”

      In a different part of the building his second accomplice answered “Oh they’re just fine. They don’t seem to mind too much that we’ve outstayed our welcome.” She smiled at the six people lying at her feet with their hands and feet bound with tape, and more strips covering their mouths.

    She cackled happily as she looked around the darkened laboratory, filled with turned off computers and tables she had overturned just for the heck of it. She fiddled with a strand of long blonde hair protruding from under her balaclava, before she began to reload the rifle she was holding. The hostages began to murmur fretfully and squirm against their bonds as they watched her. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. If I was going to shoot you I’d have done it ages ago” she taunted.

     Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass, at which she raised her gun and looked about the room. The light from the torch attached to the end of her rifle found nothing, the only movement coming from her restrained prisoners. “If whoever made that noise doesn’t show up my trigger finger might get itchy” she shouted into the darkness. She got no reply. Slowly she began to inch forward, her eyes straining to see any sign of movement. “Don’t think I won’t do it! I ain’t exactly little Miss sunshine” she bellowed.

     “Who are you talking to?’ a voice spoke from behind her. She whirled around in alarm and came face to face with her two colleagues, the leader holding the briefcase in his hand.

     “I think we’ve got a snoop somewhere nearby” she told them.

     “You mean that shattering glass wasn’t you?” the male accomplice asked.

     “Why would I go about breaking windows you idiot?” she hissed at him.

     “Ssssssshhh” their leader hushed. It was then that they heard a door opening and the patter of footsteps down a nearby corridor. They instinctively drew closer to each other. This hadn’t been part of the plan. They had made sure to cover all areas of the building and had found nobody but those already taken hostage. This meant that whoever was making those noises had only just arrived.

     “I don’t suppose it could be...you know...those rumours about those vigilantes?” the male accomplice stammered, now sounding very nervous.

       “Oh don’t be so daft. They don’t exist; it’s a bunch of fairytale rubbish” the female accomplice muttered to him under her breath.  

      “Shut up” the leader barked loudly as the footsteps returned, closer than before. Suddenly the lights in the room were turned right up, momentarily dazzling everyone. Only when their eyes became accustomed to the light did they see the teenage boy standing in the doorway.

      He was tall and muscular with straggly, unkempt blonde hair. But what amazed everyone was that he wore a suit of armour, with boots on his feet and brown gauntlets over his hands. He was holding a shining, silver, round shaped shield and a sword that sparkled in the light. Staring at the crooks with a look of defiance he said “you villains fight with no honour!”

      A couple of seconds passed in silence, before the crooks burst into laughter at the sight of him. “Oh so we have no honour?” the female accomplice spluttered. “Get a reality check kid. This isn’t the Battle of Hastings.”

      The boy ignored them. “I do not wish you to force my hand. Leave now before you give me no other option!”

     “Oh come off it” the male accomplice snickered. “What are you going to do, joust us?”

     The boy simply gave a wry smile. He pointed his sword towards them and muttered under his breath “Luna empiriasta enka.” The looks on the crooks faces changed from mirth to astonishment as the sword began to glow a bright blue colour, bathing the room in its fierce light. They could only watch as the boy pulled back his sword behind his head and swung it vertically downwards, at which a ray of blue light shot out of the blade in their direction. It passed straight through the tables standing in its way, cutting them clean in half. The three crooks panicked and dived to the floor as it hit the wall behind them, cutting its way through that as well.

       Suddenly feeling more scared then she had ever felt before the female accomplice grabbed her rifle, got to her feet and aimed at the boy. “Don’t even think of trying that again!” she bellowed.

      Now it was the boy who was laughing. “Take your best shot young crone” he taunted as he raised his shield, which was also glowing in the same blue light. Not wanting to give him another chance she fired.  But the bullets did not reach their target. They simply rebounded off a blue aura surrounding the boy’s shield. The female accomplice could only watch in horror as the bullets fell harmlessly to the floor.

      “How did you do that?’ the leader uttered in disbelief.

       “If you find my abilities impressive, wait until you see those of my comrades” the boy replied mysteriously. After he spoke some of the hostages began screaming into the tape covering their mouths. The leader turned to see them staring at the windows, and when he looked he also nearly cried out in shock.

      Through the glass was a teenage girl dressed entirely in purple. From her matching skirt and top completed with knee high boots over some stockings. The top part of her face was covered by a mask that looked like it had been made out of ivy, and similar strands of plants were entwined about her body and in her purple coloured hair. This was nothing, however, to the pair of gigantic, brightly coloured butterfly wings on her back, which she was flapping effortlessly to maintain her position, floating in mid-air three floors above the ground.

      The girl gave a happy wink at the stunned spectators, as from her hands purple coloured bolts of electricity fizzed towards the window. When they made contact a hole appeared in the centre of the glass, growing in size until it was big enough for the girl to fly through. Once she had passed into the room the hole shrank until it had sealed itself shut, with the glass pane completely undamaged. The girl landed elegantly before saying “don’t suppose you’ve seen many teenagers do that before?”

       This was too much for the crooks, and they began scurrying towards a fire escape in the corner. The girl waited until they had almost reached it, before sending more bolts of purple electricity towards a fire hose hanging on the wall. None of the crooks saw the hose slowly begin to unravel itself, as if it had a life of its own. The female accomplice only became aware of it when it wrapped itself around her body from her shoulders all the way down to her ankles, causing her to topple to the floor. The other two paused as they watched this happen, before barging through the fire door in order to save themselves.

     “Come back you cowards!” the female accomplice shrieked after them as she wriggled against her bonds, but finding herself unable to escape.

    A pair of purple boots walked into her line of sight. “How do you like being the one all tied up then?” the girl smiled at her.

    “Don’t get clever with me missy” the woman spat. “There’s no way the two of you will catch my colleagues now!”

   “Who says there are only two of us?” she remarked casually.

    The two remaining crooks were now running down a metal staircase clinging to the side of the building, normally reserved for emergencies. This led them into an empty courtyard surrounded by high brick walls, which was filled with delivery trucks during the day, but was now empty. The only light came from their torches and the orange glow of some streetlights over the far wall.

     “Oh dear God what do we do!” the male accomplice fretted. “It’s them, it really is them. We are so screwed!”

     “Just shut up will you!” the leader barked as he paused to catch his breath. “We just need to find a way over the wall to the car and we’ll be fine!”

      The male accomplice obediently fell silent, and began frantically looking about him, trying to find a way of escaping. His eyes travelled all the way up to the building’s roof, and when he saw the outline of another person standing on it he gave a panicked yelp. This coincided with the outline firing an orb of green light at him.

   The leader had seen them as well, and pulled the male accomplice out of the way just as the green orb hurtled past, colliding with the tarmac and disappearing in a puff of smoke. “What are you trying to do, kill us?” the leader bellowed, trying to sound as defiant as possible.

      “Actually that was an electro-magnetic pulsar, designed to send an electrical message through the nervous system to the subjects brain with the intent of causing unconsciousness!” the figure replied, moments before leaping off the roof. The figure landed on its feet with a loud thump, before drawing itself up to its full height completely unhurt.

      It was clad head to foot in a suit of metal armour that covered every part of its body. The think metal plates covering its torso were coloured a deep black, as was the helmet which completely encased its head, save for a red tinted visor and a small slit for its mouth. Mounted on its shoulders was what resembled a pair of cannons, with their barrels glowing a gentle green whilst trained directly on the position of the two crooks.

      The leader, now beginning to feel truly scared, pulled out his pistol from his belt and said “don’t come any closer, or I swear I’ll...”

     “Fire your gun and watch the bullets bounce off my titanium infused armour?” the figure replied, its voice unmistakably that of a girl and sounding like it was speaking through a microphone. “Sorry, but that’s not going to work on me, or my teammate for that matter.”

     “What teammate?” the leader asked.

     Immediately there came a loud crashing sound from behind them. They whirled around and saw that a massive hole had been punched in the wall, throwing bricks and dust into the courtyard. Through the debris stepped another teenage boy, who had evidently just smashed his way through. He was tall and bulky, and only wore a pair of jeans revealing the top half of his body. His skin seemed to glint in the low light, and as he stepped closer the two crooks realised that this was because his skin, from his bare feet all the way up to his face, was made out of jagged white diamonds fused together. His feet made loud clunking sounds against the tarmac as he moved forward, and he gave a brilliant smile which literally sparkled at them.

     “I’ve got a question for you guys” the figure said in a deep voice. “On a scale of one to ten, just how cool am I? Be honest now.”

      The crooks didn’t reply, because seconds later they took off in different directions. Giving a laugh the boy yelled “bit old for tag aren’t you guys?” before setting after the male accomplice. The girl in the armour raised her arm as a small cannon emerged from the armour around her forearm. She quickly fired, and the male accomplice stumbled as he felt some wires wrap tightly around his legs, causing him to fall to the floor. He was then picked up by his neck and hoisted up off the floor by the diamond boy. He thrashed and kicked but the boys grip was unbreakable, holding him up as if he were some sort of ragdoll.

     “Please” he spluttered in terror, “don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

     “Tough” the diamond boy grinned at him. “You should have thought about the possibility of being stopped by a band of super powered teenagers before you broke the law.”

     “His boss escaped through your hole in the wall” said the armoured girl.

     The diamond boy didn’t look too upset. “Well it’s not like he’s going to get far is it?” he replied.            

      The leader had run through the ruined wall and was now tearing down a deserted alleyway. It emerged onto a small residential road and he saw the getaway car parked on the pavement. He began to feel a warm, encouraging relief fill through him. He was still grasping the briefcase tightly, and with the other two now out of the picture he could now claim all the money for himself. He stopped and looked about him, and when he was sure the coast was clear he ran towards the car faster than he had ever run before.

     He was only metres away when a ball of fire suddenly fell from the sky onto the car, causing it to explode violently. The force of the blast pushed the leader onto his back and made his ears ring. Time seemed to pause for a moment as he lay on the pavement in a complete daze.

     He wasn’t aware of someone standing over him until they said “I hope your insurance was up to date on that.” The leader looked up and saw the blurry outline of another teenage boy, wearing a jet black hoodie and a pair of dark trousers and boots. His clothes were padded in a way similar to bullet proof vests, and his hood was up over his head. Only the bottom half of his face was visible, the rest of it covered by a black mask that completely covered his face from the mouth upwards, with slots only for his eyes.

      The leader realised he had dropped his gun during the blast, and turning his head he saw it resting just out of his grasp. The boy saw him looking and said “you won’t be needing that.” He then held out his hand, from which an orb of fire appeared hovering in his outstretched palm. The boy casually flicked this fireball to where the gun was resting. There was a fierce crackling sound as it hit the pavement, followed by an acrid burning smell. When the fire orb had disappeared the leader gawped at his gun, which was now half melted and was welded to the ground.

      The leader looked back up and watched as the boy in the hoodie was joined by the purple haired girl, the blonde haired knight, the girl in the armour and the diamond boy, forming a tight circle around him. He could only stare back at them, knowing full well that he had been beaten.

      “Are his friends sorted out?” the boy in the hoodie asked his comrades.

      “All restrained and accounted for” the blonde knight replied, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

      “We should do the same with this guy sharpish. I’ve intercepted police transmissions saying they’re on their way here” the armoured girl announced urgently.

      “Wait” the leader croaked. “How did...you do that. Who...are you?”

      “Well I’m Nymph” replied the purple haired winged girl.

      “Sir Matthew at your service” boasted the blonde knight.

       “I’m Cybergirl” said the armoured girl.  

       “You can just call me Diamond” the diamond boy grinned.

       “And I’m Fireflash” the hoodie boy concluded, “and we’re the Renegades!”

A quick little something

Here's something I've been working on for a couple of days. Nothing major, just a little fun with the aim of getting me to actually sit in front of my computer and write something. I often do stuff like this for my own amusement, and hope that something might come out of it, but I rarely show them to people. But it being the start of my new blog, I thought I'd share one of these skits with you. Hope you enjoy it.

Not so very once upon a time ago, in the mystical, far away land of Garnia, lived the good elf King Bobrond and his fair elf Queen Gwenriel. Together they presided over the Kingdom of Modemdell, a fair and enchanting realm where fairies flittered, unicorns frolicked, rabbits snuffled and gingerbread men ran. The elf residents of this land lived in perfect harmony with the natural world, and befriended many of the beasts who dwelled with them. The King and Queen were fair and just rulers and, barring the occasional communist uprising, the days passed by in peace.

      Then one night, the King had been working very late and returned to his chambers in a very irate manner. It had been a very long day negotiating a peace treaty between the squirrels and the hedgehogs, and all that he desired was some rest. However, he was surprised to find his Queen lying on their bed, dressed in a revealing gown that she only ever put on for special occasions. In her hands she held two glasses of juice from the golden froozberry tree, and on her face radiated a smile that caused the King to instantly forget his tiredness. He lay down upon the bed next to her, gazed at her lovingly for a few moments, before proceeding to take great pleasure in her company for the rest of the evening.

    Nine months later Princess Elesbeth was born. And there was much rejoicing.

     The years passed, and the young Princess grew and grew. Her hair was the colour of sunlight, her eyes the colour of morning dew, and barring a brief period when, aged fourteen, she was forced to wear braces and suffered a mild acne problem, her beauty was the talk of the kingdom. Soon she was of the age where many suitors began to seek her hand, yet she rejected them all. She was happy to simply wander through the meadows and forests of Modemdell with the many furry creatures that lived there.

      Often she would sing, and would fill the fields and woodland with the sultry sound of her distinctly average voice. She secretly harboured a dream of one day singing before all members of the kingdom as part of some kind of show of talent, but her mother had warned her of the follies of such a dream, saying they were not befitting of a princess. She didn’t have the heart to tell her, quite frankly, that she wasn’t really good enough.

      Eventually her father grew tired of her aimless wanderings. Remembering the exploits of his youth, he decided that it was not natural for a princess of her age to show such a lack of interest in frolicking with the elf men of the kingdom. Therefore he called a great banquet in her honour, with the intention of finding a suitor for his daughter, and who may one day rule the kingdom in his stead.

     It was the day of this banquet, and Elesbeth was walking through her favourite patch of woodland. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face, and was singing one of her favourite songs, “Do not cease belief.” The sound of her frankly non-descript voice woke many of the creatures in the area. One of these was Rory the Racoon. He uncurled himself, scampered out of his nest and trotted over to the path where Elesbeth was skipping. He stood on his hind legs, gave a twitch of his nose, and then said “oi, keep that bloody racket down will ya?”

     Elesbeth stopped singing and turned to face him. “Sorry Mr Racoon, I did not mean to disturb you!” she said sweetly as she sat down on a nearby toadstool.

     “Yeah well think before opening your trap next time. Some people have a night of foraging ahead you know” Rory Racoon retorted with a snort.

      “Leave the poor dear alone now!” said a voice from above them. They looked up to see Beatrice Barn Owl circling above their heads. She landed on a nearby branch and gazed over at Elesbeth with her big brown eyes. “She’s got a big night ahead of her as well you know. Are you looking forward to it pet?”

     “Who wouldn’t?” squeaked a voice from Elesbeth’s feet. She looked down to see Vernon Vole scurrying through the undergrowth. Giving a smile that revealed his long rodent teeth he continued “all those elf babes in their fancy dresses, getting drunk on Froozberry juice. By the end of the evening they won’t even notice me scampering into their cleavage for a quick look.”

     “That’s disgusting!” Beatrice Barn Owl hooted.

     “Well you’re entitled to your opinion” Vernon replied.

     “Just watch yourself. I literally eat people like you for breakfast” Beatrice Barn Owl retorted, looking rather tempted by the thought.

     Their argument was interrupted by the sound of Elesbeth laughing. “Oh my little woodland friends you do make me laugh” she said. “Oh how I shall miss you.”

     “Where you going then?” asked Rory Racoon.

     Elesbeth sighed and gazed up at the beams of sunlight streaming through the canopy of green leaves and pink blossom. “I am not going anywhere Mr Racoon. I simply worry that soon I will not be able to traverse these woodland paths anymore.”

     “They building over them or something?” asked Vernon Vole.

     “Dude, that’s so weak” said a new voice. From behind a nearby tree trunk emerged Stanley Stoat. Swaggering over with a glazed look in his eyes he continued “she’s like, totally worried that her Dad will pair her off with some loser, so she can have lots of babies and ensure the future of his Kingdom. It’s like so the opposite of not cool.”

    “Have you been at the mushrooms of the magical glade of bliss again?” Rory Racoon asked with a scornful sniff.

    His eyes rolling around in their sockets Stanley Stoat said “I kinda have a little yeah. Man they were some good...”

    “Oh I am ever so upset!” Elesbeth cried, standing up from the toadstool and clasping her hands over her heart. “I do not wish to upset my father, but I do not wish to go through with his plan of finding me a husband. How can I tell him of this without angering him?”

    “Have you tried cutting yourself?” asked Rory Racoon.

     “Of course she hasn’t” Beatrice Barn Owl scoffed. “Just sit down and have a reasonable chat with him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

     “I don’t see what the problem is” said Vernon Vole. “You’re a beautiful nineteen year old princess. You should be getting it every time you get an opportunity.”

    “Don’t be like that” Stanley Stoat. “This is a delicate flower standing before you, on the cusp of adolescence, trying to discover what role she must play in this big wide world. We should not hurry her. We should nurture and protect her as she discovers who she really is.”

    “Go back to your mushrooms hippie!” said Vernon Vole.

    Elesbeth gave a happy laugh. “I thank you for your advice my furry companions. But this is something I must face myself, and I fully intend to...”

    She paused as a chill ran through her body. An overpowering silence had fallen throughout the woods. The birds had stopped singing and all Elesbeth could hear was the sound of the wind in the trees, becoming stronger and stronger. Yet the wind seemed to be circling around her, whistling past her body like a tornado. There was a clap of thunder, which confused her as the sky above her was clear. But then there was another, and another. Then a bolt of lightning appeared from nowhere and struck the ground no more than a few feet away from where she was standing.

    Elesbeth could see the wind gusts now, circling around and trapping her in a violent vortex. She held her hands over her ears as the rumbles of thunder became almost deafening, and closed her eyes to protect them from the lightning flashes. What kind of devilry was this? And why was she, a pretty nineteen year old blonde princess of a large, rich kingdom, the target of such a malicious attack?      

     Then she heard voices. At first they were very faint and barely audible, but they grew in volume and clarity until she could hear every word they were saying.

     “...what’s wrong Professor?”

     “I canna control it sir! I’m giving it all she’s got!”

     “Get it back under control, or I swear it’ll be lampshade time...”

     Their voices faded, drowned out by the sound of the wind and the thunder. Elesbeth began screaming, hoping someone would see her and come to her aid. But no-one came. There was then a bright flash, brighter than any light she had ever seen before. It was all she could see. She was surrounded by this eerie light, and there was nothing she could do to escape from it.

     All that the animals saw was a cyclone of wind surrounding Elesbeth, whipping up clouds of dust and leaves hiding her from their sight. They heard the rumbles of thunder and saw flashes of light from within the cyclone. But when the wind died down they saw, to their utmost astonishment, that Elesbeth had completely disappeared. The rest of the woodland had barely been touched: indeed it was as if nothing had ever happened. But there was no escaping the fact that the elf princess had simply vanished into thin air.

      For a moment none of the creatures dared speak. It was Rory Racoon who eventually broke the silence. “Ok, let’s all agree on this. If anyone asks, she found religion and ran off to become a nun!”

I may continue this story at some point, if/when I feel like it.

Hello World.

For those of you who don't know me (although at this point I imagine most people reading this will actually have seen me at some point in their lives), my name is Michael Foster, and I like to write. I spend a lot of my time writing, and it's an activity I would very much like to take to a professional level. However, as at this point not many people have had a chance to read my work, I decided to set up a blog and use it as a sort of base camp for all the ideas swimming around in my head, and hopefully entertain a few people in doing so. I will be periodically updating this blog with some of the projects I am currently working on, projects I have worked on in the past, some random stuff I jot down in an evening after work, and whatever else takes my fancy.

So anyway, about me. I'm currently twenty two, fresh out of my Masters degree in creative writing, single, work in a cafe at Castle Howard, live in Malton, North Yorkshire, like to read, write, sing and play video games, and am a supporter of Tottenham Hotspur, for my sins. If you were to see my picture in wikipedia, you'd probably see all the above points as footnotes underneath it and get a decent idea of who I am.

But to more pressing business. I'll be updating this blog with a couple of stories tonight, and over the coming weeks add more and more as I get the chance to. They will range from short stories, to extracts of some novels aimed at the teenage market I am drafting at the moment, and maybe throw in a couple of random little skits here and there. I'd welcome any feedback you can give me, because, well, if I can't entertain the people who read my stuff, I'm rather stuffed aren't I?

Anyway that's enough for now, hope you enjoy.