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Alternative fairytale
It was a bitter, dark night and the moon was a crescent in the pitch black night’s sky. The shilloutte of a man walking past on the desolate streets appeared. He was bent low as if all the worries of the world were set upon his shoulders and his aging face bore a sad smile. He reached into his pocket, his fingers grubby and chapped after a hard day’s work, expecting to hear the familiar jangling of coins. Instead he hears silence and his face fills with dismay. He walks up a narrow path before plucking up the courage to knock on the door. He is met by the smiling face of his daughter and he beams proudly. Gemma was twelve, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. She was short for her age but what she lacked in stature, she made up for in intelligence and wit. As he walked through the hall way he saw his wife and his eyes welled with tears- how would he ever be able to reveal to her that he had lost his job?
From the confines of their bedroom Harry and Gemma could hear the raised voices of their parents and Gemma pestered her brother to turn off his PS3.
“But its FIFA 2011!” exclaimed Harry irritably. Like Gemma, Harry had brown hair and brown eyes; he was quick-thinking and loved his sister (even if she can be annoying at times).
“You won’t be able to play FIFA soon if you don’t listen. Can you believe Dad will let Cassey get away with that?” asked Gemma, shocked that her Dad was so feeble in front of their step-mother.
As they listened earnestly they could hear the muffled voices of their parents conversing.
“We can’t do that!” pleaded their father.
“Times are tough Fred, we have to do something. We have barely anything to eat,” bargained Cassey.
“Surely there’s some other way?” mumbled their father, but his voice was just a whisper in the wind.
“We have to sweetie, there is no other way,” she added with a slight acidity to her voice.
“But only until we have enough money to support ourselves,” agreed Father anxiously.
“Of course dear, we’ll leave them at the fairground. The little darlings can enjoy themselves,” she replied, her face filled with glee.
“What are we going to do?” wondered Gemma, her face stricken with grief. Harry sat patiently for a while, his mind ticking away, crossing off a million possibilities.
“Of course, we could use a tube map to trace our journey back home!” he exclaimed.
The two children slept peacefully that night, warm and snug in their beds, knowing that they would escape their treacherous fate. The next day everything went swimmingly. The children were left at the fairground and of course they played along with their step-mother’s vicious plan. Cassey, unaware that she was the one being tricked, fell for their act, hook, line and sinker.
As the day slowly drew to a close and a starry blanket covered the sky, Gemma and Harry started to head home. The foul and bitter wind slipped into their faces whilst the dark alleyways bought nasty surprises. As they walked up the narrow path to their house they saw their father. His face, stricken with grief and dropping like a blood hounds whilst his eyes were blood-shot. It was obvious he had been crying. Harry and Gemma were delighted at the sight of their Father and ran to his warm and comforting arms... At first Fred could not believe his eyes, the sight of his children was like a mirage in the desert, too good to be true but as soon as they were in his arms he wondered why he had ever let them go.
Harry and Gemma happily entered their home and were hugged by its warmth. However their joyous reunion grinded to an abrupt halt as soon as Cassey arrived. Her dark luscious curls flowed immaculately, not a single hair out of place whilst her eyes glared like a hawk staring at its prey. Her eyes widened in shock, she thought that she was the puppet master but soon realized she was just a dumb puppet in the children’s show. A desperate hunger burnt inside her fuelled by her bitter taste for revenge and the pure hatred inside her twisted heart. This lethal desire would lead her to pursue her plan yet again...
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