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18/10/2011 Matthew Whyman http://mattwhyman.blogspot.com/

With his arms spread wide, the boy had high hopes that he could fly. If everything he had been told proved to be wrong, it was a long drop to the avenue below. He didn't once look down. If he did. it was a surefire bet that he would bottle it. Instead, he looked straight across at the horizon, where the sun was beginning to rise, and breathed out nice and slow. This was it. The moment had come. The small crowd of cops and hotel staff on the rooftop continued to plead with the boy to step back. To his ears, however, it just sounded like a drone.

 

"Watch me," he said. "I'll show you all."

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Comment by Darren Hartwell -Charters School on October 18, 2011 at 8:50

Charters School

Josh Taylor and Mokam Shira

 

“Don’t do it young one.”

Then the boy turned around but could only see the sun setting over the horizon and the big, black billowy clouds rolling inexorably over the pale orange sky. He then looked down and took a deep breath. He braced himself and then jumped. Everyone beneath him screamed and shouted, some looked as though they were going to try and catch him. The boy closed his eyes so that he couldn’t see the people underneath him. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe and he felt a tight squeezing feeling in his stomach. Then he opened his eyes, astonished that he was still alive. However, he was not in the surreal picturesque view he was in when he jumped but in a dark, wet and cloudy storm in the middle of nowhere.  But then he figured he was in the middle of a never ending maze with bushes 50 feet tall in an obscure environment that appeared to be woodland.

“Where the heck am I?”

He whispered as though he thought someone could hear him. Then he heard that voice again, the same voice he heard when he was about to jump. “You are in the endless maze Michael. However I have the power to teleport you back to earth but you must face your worst fear if you want a chance for me to use my powers. You must find the centre of the maze and go into The House of Horrors! ” “Who are you.” replied Michael sounding as though that man was his worst fear, but just as he said that the man disappeared and left no trace behind him. Michael looked around and set off on a journey he knew he had to complete. Michael saw the house on the hill as it looked down menacingly on the things below. It appeared to watch you as you stepped closer to it and daring you to enter. Silent and still like a predator waiting to pounce. The woodwork was rotting and the windows were shattered. The appalling odour wafted done the only path to enter it made Michael quicken his step

Comment by WP Central on October 18, 2011 at 9:52

He was running now trying to reach the house but he had to keep twisting and following the path when the huge bushes sprang up in front of him. It seemed as though he wasn’t getting anywhere – every time he looked up and ahead to the house it looked as though it was still just as far away. He was never going to get there – would never see his sister and parents again, it was a stupid idea to try and fly, why did he trust the ad in that magazine “drink this and you will be able to soar above your enemies”…..yeah right that didn’t work did it. A solitary frustrated and upset tear slowly dripped down Michael’s cheek.

“well crying won’t help will it boy?”…..

 

Bev Humphrey

Write Path Founder 

Comment by Adrian Thompson Laisterdyke UK on October 18, 2011 at 10:55

The boy was running like the wind when all of a sudden a gothic figure appeared.   The boy whose name was Bob was gob smacked all he wanted to do was be with his family, but it was too late for that.  The gothic figure was no other than the great vampire Silas. He was in despair; he didn’t know that his comic gothic hero was going to come alive.  Silas got his long curly wurly finger out and pointed and in a ghostly whisper he said “your are next”.

All that was going through his mind was, why? Why do I have to buy those stupid magazines? Just a split second later flash backs hit him. ‘That’s what happened to Sam. He brought this magazine just before me. He watched those ads a whole lot more than me. “Oh no, I need to get my self out of here,” he thought to his self. “NOOO”, he screamed. “I have to stop this happening to me and who ever is next, ” he whispered. But the question is how?

Liaba, Aneesa, Ruqaiyah and Javireya, Laisterdyke Business & Enterprise College

Comment by WP Central on October 18, 2011 at 13:04

Michael’s world spiralled. Millions of thoughts went whizzing through his brain, he longed to see that sunset again, to wake up and realise he had been imagining, to find that he was still on that ledge, about to jump, but it was all too real. The gothic figure disappeared, Michael walked cautiously along the old cobbled path. He stopped meters away from the derelict house, he examined the old wooden door. The number was 666, the devils number. Was this the house that the devil tortured his innocent victims? My stomach lurched, ‘Sam…’

 

All of a sudden, Michael caught a whiff of something. Was it?... It couldn’t have been, breakfast? As Michael approached the house, the smell grew stronger, the tension was too great, he broke into a run; he was running so fast, his feet hardly touched the ground. He burst threw the door with all his might. Darkness… and then…

 

Sam Nichol and Harry Padgett, Benfield School

 

Comment by Sue Parr on October 18, 2011 at 13:54

He found himself in a dark room with a door. He felt a shiver run up his spine. ‘Should he enter or not?’ was the question that was boggling his mind. After a few minutes of thinking Michael decided to open the door. Where was he? Was this the end for him? He had so many questions which needed answers.

 

Suddenly he realised that he had been teleported. He found himself in a small room surrounded with mirrors. Then he saw an image in the mirror of a woman with black blotches on her skin holding a baby. She looked at him with an eerie eye. She reached out at him and grabbed him by the neck and within an instant he found himself in a field. Michael’s head was spinning.

 

‘This can’t be happening,’ Michael thought to himself, ‘I must have hit my head while trying to fly.’ Then he remembered the voice that spoke to him.

 Michael needed answers. Could someone be playing around, teleporting him to different dimensions? Where was the maze? He just wanted to fly but now he was stuck in the middle of nowhere. 

 

What could be happening and who was behind it all?

 

Priyanka and Janvi           

Heathfield School

Comment by Allison Painich on October 18, 2011 at 16:00
It was still pitch black and nothing had changed. Running through the field, Michael heard a voice, "6....6....6." The voice had a familiar voice and pitch to it. I was trying to follow it, but it began to fade.

"Sam! It is you," Michael said with fear. Then the voice responded, "I'm coming for your soul." Michael started to cry. He thought to himself, "Is this the worst fear I am supposed to face?" Then he said, "I am going to kill anyone who steps in my path."

Filled with anger and worry of dying, he wished for a weapon. A trust of strong air suddenly came at him so strongly it nearly blew him away. He didn't know what happened, but he felt different. He heard something strong coming towards him. It seemed so rough compared to him, who was like a twig. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was Sam, but not him. He was being controlled, possessed. Coming at him with the speed of light, Michael threw his hand toward the blast, but the thrust of air pushed Sam back.

The battle had begun. Sam then started to twitch and began to scream. He began to cry. He was fighting the battle with the person who possessed Sam. He fainted, and moments later he woke up. Michael thought Sam was still possessed and killed Sam. "You died young," said Michael. He was then teleported back to earth and found himself in a hospital. Fighting to open his eyes, he looks to the right and sees Sam. "Hello friend. Did you miss me?" said Sam with a grin. "Somehow, I survived. Let's make a pact and make sure no one ever gets those magazines again."

George and Jhovany
PS 319
New York

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