This is my daily writing book. The idea being to write at least 500 words a day. Come one! |
When Bradley woke up he was tied and in a dark space. It must have been a cupboard, he could just make out a slight chink of light under the door. Outside he heard voices, the same hideous cackling croaky voices that he’d heard from Mrs Lipscombe and the people he thought were his family. He worried about his real family, what had they done to them – or maybe they were his real family, all along, they’d been witches and he hadn’t realised. Surely not, after 12 years, he would have known. He decided they must have been replaced recently, probably when that old hag moved in next door. He would have to try and rescue them. He knew that Zoltan was still alive, and was confident that they didn’t know about him. The question was, how would be able to release him from the snow globe? He cold try just smashing it, but that might kill him or he might come out as he was now, miniaturised. Somehow he needed to get back to his bedroom to find the magic book. If he could do that he could recruit some more of his toys into helping him. He needed someone like Merlin; he would know what to do with witches. Only thing was he had no idea where Merlin was. He used to play with him all the time a couple of years ago but since Zoltan, he’d neglected him. He wouldn’t mind he was still just a toy but it meant that Bradley had no clue where to find him. Mum always put old stuff either under the stairs, in the loft, in the garage or in the bin. He had several problems; how to get out of the cupboard without the witches finding out, how to get into the house without a key and then finding the book and Merlin and maybe one other recruit. He needed a new Team. He tried not to think about Timmy and Tantor, it would only make him cry and he needed to be brave now. Running his hands round the door frame he worked out it was a small door like the cupboard under the stairs in his own house. He had been locked in there many times by Tabitha and knew, if he had his penknife he could easily open the catch. He didn’t have it of course. He fumbled around in the dark trying to find something he could use. Eventually he found a plastic shoe horn and tried to open the catch with that but it wouldn’t work. After a bit more fiddling he found what felt like a tea spoon and set to work n the catch again. He almost had several times but it slipped at the last minute making a scraping noise down the door and h had to sit silently for a few minutes afterwards terrified that they’d heard and would come to check on him. After a while he heard nothing and decided to have another go. This time he did it. It sprang open and he had t leap forward t grab it and stop it smashing back against the side and alerting them. Again he waited, listening and after a few more minutes hearing nothing he crept out. He tried the front door first, but it was locked. The he tried the back door but that was locked too, they were taking no chances. He decided to try upstairs. He knew from experience that he could get out of the small bedroom window and climb down the porch roof and then hang and jump. He’d done it from his own room many times. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Steve Wybourn ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |