Encouraging links between students and school staff around the globe
It had been a long, miserable journey. Jack knew he had set the angry mood before they'd even left home, refusing to tie a ribbon on his suitcase so that he would recognise it at the other end. It hadn't been a long row - mainly sulking and stamping, a couple of swear words and a slammed door, but his silence in the car afterwards left room for Cindy's humming to drive everyone mad.
When they got to the airport check in, he saw that his mum had put the bow on anyway, and he'd untied it when she wasn't looking. It was still in his pocket now. Orange spots on a pink background. Honestly!
So when the bags came round on the carousel in the hot and overcrowded airport, Jack had lunged for it before his mother noticed that the ribbon was missing. Now here he was at the hotel, sharing a room with Cindy, worse luck. He dumped the bag on his bed and opened the zip. Cindy threw down the TV remote control as soon as she heard him gasp.
'What the...' she cried, when she saw what was inside.
'Wrong bag,' said Jack, staring down at its contents. 'What on earth are we going to do now?'
“I don’t know” she moaned “It’s all your fault! Wait, what was in that bag?”
Jack cautiously unzipped it and they gasped, because inside the bag was a baby with a note lying in the palm of her hand.
“Wasn’t there loads of Barbie dolls in there a minute ago? “Asked Cindy in shock. Jack picked up the note, uncurled it and began reading it aloud …
‘Please take care of my baby,’ As Jack was rolling up the slip of paper he saw some writing on the back, but he didn’t read it fast enough [that was one of his many mistakes] as someone knocked on the door. Cindy turned around to look at the baby. She had gone! The only traces of the baby were her screams of distress and the sound of foot steps down the long and narrow stair way…
By Robyn and Emily
Easebourne C.E Primary School
Jack only had one explanation for this. His heart was racing. His head was spinning. He needed to stay calm because he knew the terrible truth was upon him. Was it possible that the baby was a real life despicable Barbie doll? He heard a piercing scream from in the basement. Ghostly sounds haunted him. “Look after my baby…” someone whispered in his ear. He turned around but no-one was there. Who was it? Could it be Cindy? Is she still alive?
Jack rushed down to the basement, only to find a shadowy figure creeping upon him. What he saw would scar him for life. Cindy. Was. DEAD. In her hand was a piece of paper. Jack was certain he had seen it before. “Look after my baby…” was written in the spidery writing he knew so well. And smeared in blood was “… Or Else…” The writing was strangely familiar. It was his mums. “Jack”… “Jack”… “Play with me, I’m lonely…” someone said tormenting voice.
He woke up. Startled, exhausted and sweating. Was it all true? Was it all a dream? But at the end of his bed was a baby with the same note “Look after my baby…”
Beatrice, Lily and Su Yeon
7X Sheffield High School
It wore the same sorrow expression upon its face, but unlike the dream, it’s porcelain skin was cracked. It seemed, Since nightfall, it had aged. Every time jack blinked an image of a baby replaced the daunting doll. Was he hallucinating? What was happening to him? He felt like a drink of water would help the clockworks of his minds click into place. Water was not strong enough. Jack remembered the medication in the front pocket of the suitcase. Maybe those would help. Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed through his head. The whole room shook. He reached for the medication as the baby started to scream. Everything faded into one blurry nightmare…
by Grace, Lola, Matilda and Iris, charter school.
The next day jack woke up with a splitting head ache his head throbbing,
He felt ill because of last night’s nightmare. So as usual he woke up and took his medication then he went down stairs to the café and had a bacon butty
And a cup of coffee when he ate the bacon butty and a drank the cup of coffee he went back up stairs to see the freaky doll sitting on the stairs with blood stains on its apron and holding a Meat knife and before he knew it head screamed and fell down the stairs, The restaurants manger ran over to him he said “are you ok sir?” jack replied “no there’s Something wrong with this hotel, it must be cursed!” the manager replied “who are you are you? Must be a psychopath!” There is nothing wrong with this hotel!” The next second jack disappeared...
Michael johnson, Vladislavs Hrolovics, jack caston
Great Yarmouth High School
Jack woke only to find himself in a dingy corridor. Its walls laced with, what jack presumed to be, the doll’s previous victims. Knives forced through their thoughts and yet they whisper “you’re next!” Turning himself away from the horror he gasped as he saw Cindy’s dead body among them. He felt a pang of guilt, “I did this to you” he thought “I should have just tied that stupid ribbon on my case.”
Jack had disappeared into his own thoughts – was anything he saw real, or…wait a minute!! “The medication”, thought Jack. “Everything was fine until I started taking that!!” Jack thought back. Didn’t someone give him that? Of course! I was feeling sick an old woman must have sensed that because she was all too quick to give me these tablets. It must have been her that sent me into this world of drugged terror. I’ve been on my jet a lot and, thinking about it, I’ve never seen an air hostess that old before. Who was that lady? Why does she have it in for me? I’ve made a lot of enemies, what with my dad being famous and all, but who would hate me that much to kill me? Suddenly, Jack realised! But surely she couldn’t sink that low? Could she…..??
By Annabel and Nuala
Oakbank School
Jack woke up, “It was all a dream” he muttered to himself. Checking his surroundings the blood dredged doll sat next to him. In terror he reaches for his phone checks all his to social Medias to see if all the horrific things that has happened to him was real.
By Amari,Tayvian and Abi makinde, The Charter School
Add a Comment
© 2023 Created by WP Central.
Powered by
You need to be a member of Write Path International Connections to add comments!
Join Write Path International Connections