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HannahG123

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I couldn't find a thread for peoples own short stories so heres one to share your stuff

 

heres one I just wrote to get this started :happy:

 

 

‘Someone you see often but don’t really know’

The alarm blared but she was already awake. This was a frequent occurrence, waking up in the early hours of the morning after dreaming of white walls, pale faces, the smell of sterilised floors and bed sheets and, always, empty beds. It was this final image which caused her to wake in a cold sweat and lie still and alone in the darkness until the sun rose and shed beams of cold white light through her window. Cold and white like the corridors, the rooms, and the people.

When she started her job at the hospital she thought everything was going to be ok. She spent her university years eager to gather any experience she could to help people, enthralled by the knowledge she was learning every day and always excelling in every exam. When she started work it was the smiles of her patients as they began the slow process to recovery which kept her going, but as the weeks turned into months she began to be filled with a hollow feeling, something she had not felt for a very long time.

It had been a particularly cold and hard winter, thick snow gathered on the windowsills and up her front drive. One late January evening she let her cat out and, after a horrible blizzard, never saw him again. Then, after a series of arguments her long-time boyfriend left her in early February and the house suddenly became very quiet. Her attitude towards her work at the hospital also changed. It was no longer the smiles on the faces of recovering patients and relieved relatives which she noticed, but the drawn faces, faces of pain and discomfort, lack of hope and utter sorrow, expressions she began to recognise on her own face when she was alone.

Once the dreams began she knew that things were not going to get better as she had hoped. Everywhere she turned was loneliness and illness and emptiness. It was as if something had died inside her, the drive to cure others had gone and people were beginning to notice. But how could she look after other people if she couldn’t cope with her own life?

This morning began no different to any other. She showered, put on her red checked uniform, picked up her hospital key card and grabbed a piece of toast for breakfast. Stepping out of her front door she looked up at the sky – pale pink wisps of clouds above her head. An old suspicion echoed in her head ‘red sky in the morning, shepherds warning’. As she made her way to the bus stop she felt the constant knot in the pit of her stomach grow and had to swallow back the urge to be sick.

A car drove past, music blaring through the window. She couldn’t remember the last time she had properly listened to a song. Suddenly she was transported to old memories of nights by the fire, talking, laughing and singing, looking through photo albums of a girl she no longer recognised as herself. Those days were always warm, warm and full of colour and hope. She looked down at her hands, cold and white, clenching the hospital key card.

And so, as the bus drew up to her stop she took a deep breath, turned away and let go of the card, leaving it to fall into the slushy grey remains of snow at her feet.

 

 

Now post away

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Nono that was a joke, heres a work in progress I had with skyrim but never ended up finishing sadly :(

Its got pictures too :D

 

 

 

 

 

TESV2012-04-2223-26-49-51.jpg

 

As Fiona walked up to the throne where Balgruuf the Greater sat, she could not help but over hear the converstation which echoed off the deep wood of the hall. " Jarl the attacks have been growing stronger throughout our realm" Irileth stated with a slight scowl, Jarl Balgruuf looked at her with a look of annoyance. "Those Bastard Stormcloacks and their Curd of a ruler are no match for the men of whiterun Irileth, theres nothing to worry about" "Sire as you know Ulfric has been gathering his forces outs"- Irileth pauses as she notices Fiona, noting her thin but muscular appearance and a beautiful but Battle ridden face. "and, who are you" Irileth says with a tone as sharp as a blade.

 

 

"My name is Fiona Legate in to the Imperial Fourth Legion, under the command of General Tullius" as Fiona stated her Rank, Jarl Balgruuf stirred slightly in his throne, staring intently into Fionas eyes. " I beg your Pardon Jarl" Fiona said as she dropped to one knee, as a sign of respect " But the Legion is in need of warriors from Whiterun, as Stated by our Agreement in support of the war". "Im sorry girl, but we cannot spare any troops to the Empire, the stormcloaks are right on our doorsteps at Fort, fort-" "Fort Amol Sire" Irileth chimmed in. "Yes yes, Anyways, You can tell the Empire that if they want to slit Ulfrics throat any sooner than the next Hearthfire, then he should send troops to whiterun and not worry about that Damned Snowpoint Beacon" "as you know lord the Stormcloaks have assaulted that Beacon without relenting if you-""Thats enough!" Irileth yelled Shaking the smoke of the hearths crackling fire. "we will not be some puppet for the Empire to command and use like some old whore from Riften!" Irileth screamed at Fiona. " Now now Irileth, im sure we can come to some sort of compr-" just as Jarl Balgruuf was about to finish his Sentence, a great crash sounded near the front of the Hall. The dust from many months shook fromt he rafters and beams. Fiona and the rest of the residents of the hall stood and stared at the front door, expecting a dragon to come crashing through, it was no secret that dragons had returned to Skyrim, but no one knew how.

 

 

Fiona looked back to Irileth, Hoping for some answer, that this was just something that happened often. Irileth looked at the other Gaurds in the hall "Hurry up and take the women and Children to back room, Now!". As Irileth shouted this command, the Gaurds quickly gathered up the royal Family and stewards. "Move it! Lorek, Man the Door with the rest of the Housecarls!" Commanded Irileth." Of course!" Lorek shouted over the Commotion. "Housecarls on me! We need to get a Bar on the Door!". Just as Lorek shouted that last word, the main doors to the Hall Crashed down onto him, Crushing him instantly.

 

 

The Whiterun Housecarls were some of the best warriors in the Midlands of Skyrim, some of the fiercest warriors, hand picked by the Jarl himself. Irileth Trained them from the regular rabble into fine tuned killers. But on this day, Their Courage left them, they had never seen a Dragon and Feared it was Unstoppable. What came through the Smoke from the Fallen dust and Debris from the Great hall door was not of any Ancient decent, but a treacherous invasion of Dragonsreach.

 

 

Fiona stood there, not knowing what to do, she had never faced a dragon, let alone been in a real battle. Sure she had slain a bandit here and there, but she was not prepared for whatever was coming through that hole in the Hall. At first there was silence, nothing but the sound of the hearths fire, then all at once a Great burst of Flame came through the hole. The fire stretched over half of the Housecarls, burning some instantly to small charred Corpses, and cooking others in their armor.

 

 

That was it, the Housecarls in their Yellow and Silver armor had enough, they couldnt dare think of fighting a dragon so, they ran. some were running to protect the Jarl and his Family, others were running for their lifes. Fiona noted this instantly, though she had no experience in a real battle, she was a legate, she would not falter, 'for General Tullious, For the Empire!' she thought to Herself and her swift tone legs started to pick up on their own. the Hoursecarls looks were of surprise and instant relization that if a simple Imperial Legate isnt afraid of a dragon, why should they be? Unknowingly to Fiona, she had just become the pinnicale turning point in this battle.

 

 

The Housecarls Turned instantly Following Fiona into the dust that was clearing, yelling their battle cries. "For Skyrim!" , some shouted, others shouted " For the Jarl!", the mood in the hall was all the same though, they were going to win at any cost, to protect their homes, their Jarl. all of this lasted seconds, as if some magical essence had taken over the mens spirits. Their swords glinted on the rays of lights from the rafters in the. Their spittle flying from their mouths as they shouted their war Crys. The dust from the old carpet on the wooden floor of the hall stirred from their steps. some pounded shields as they ran, others just stayed silent, waiting for the right moment to let all of their anger out.

 

 

As they started to rush for the open hole in the hall, fiona Noted something. There was no dragon at all, but a sea of Blue and shimmering silver, it was the Stormcloaks. The Stormcloacks started to rush through the hole in the hall, shouting their own warcries. The Housecarls noticed this as well, their shouts got stronger and more Eager for Blood. Fiona saw this and using the training she had learned from the legion, rallied up a Charge at the first wave of stormcloacks entering the Hall. They stepped over the door, the mage that had summoned the fireball was ahead of the pact, with a shimmering transparent blue oval infront of his raised right hand and burning embers of a prepared firebolt in his left.

 

 

There was a tremendously loud sound as the shields and steel of both sides met in the hall, it echoed off of every timber support and beam. the mage had sent his firebolt at the man at the tip of the spearpoint wedge the Hoursecarls had made, knocking his shield out of his hand with a huge burst of flame, and almost burning the man to cinders. as soon as that same man, who was just a farmer a year ago, was ontop of the mage, he slashed his sword at the gut of the mage, spilling his intestines on the floor infront of him, and yelling" Wheres your magic now Curd!". as soon as the two forces met, Fiona was charging into the line, ready for blood.

 

TESV2012-04-3023-03-53-06.jpg

 

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I figure what's the point in writing if nobody is ever gonna read it?

 

I'd rather share it and be told my work sucks than have really great work and never let anyone else see it. I've been writing bits and pieces for the last 8+ years and, honestly, knowing that someone has read something you've written is one of the best feelings in the world. It's probably why I want to write for a living.

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Nono that was a joke, heres a work in progress I had with skyrim but never ended up finishing sadly :(

Its got pictures too :D

 

 

 

 

 

TESV2012-04-2223-26-49-51.jpg

 

As Fiona walked up to the throne where Balgruuf the Greater sat, she could not help but over hear the converstation which echoed off the deep wood of the hall. " Jarl the attacks have been growing stronger throughout our realm" Irileth stated with a slight scowl, Jarl Balgruuf looked at her with a look of annoyance. "Those Bastard Stormcloacks and their Curd of a ruler are no match for the men of whiterun Irileth, theres nothing to worry about" "Sire as you know Ulfric has been gathering his forces outs"- Irileth pauses as she notices Fiona, noting her thin but muscular appearance and a beautiful but Battle ridden face. "and, who are you" Irileth says with a tone as sharp as a blade.

 

 

"My name is Fiona Legate in to the Imperial Fourth Legion, under the command of General Tullius" as Fiona stated her Rank, Jarl Balgruuf stirred slightly in his throne, staring intently into Fionas eyes. " I beg your Pardon Jarl" Fiona said as she dropped to one knee, as a sign of respect " But the Legion is in need of warriors from Whiterun, as Stated by our Agreement in support of the war". "Im sorry girl, but we cannot spare any troops to the Empire, the stormcloaks are right on our doorsteps at Fort, fort-" "Fort Amol Sire" Irileth chimmed in. "Yes yes, Anyways, You can tell the Empire that if they want to slit Ulfrics throat any sooner than the next Hearthfire, then he should send troops to whiterun and not worry about that Damned Snowpoint Beacon" "as you know lord the Stormcloaks have assaulted that Beacon without relenting if you-""Thats enough!" Irileth yelled Shaking the smoke of the hearths crackling fire. "we will not be some puppet for the Empire to command and use like some old whore from Riften!" Irileth screamed at Fiona. " Now now Irileth, im sure we can come to some sort of compr-" just as Jarl Balgruuf was about to finish his Sentence, a great crash sounded near the front of the Hall. The dust from many months shook fromt he rafters and beams. Fiona and the rest of the residents of the hall stood and stared at the front door, expecting a dragon to come crashing through, it was no secret that dragons had returned to Skyrim, but no one knew how.

 

 

Fiona looked back to Irileth, Hoping for some answer, that this was just something that happened often. Irileth looked at the other Gaurds in the hall "Hurry up and take the women and Children to back room, Now!". As Irileth shouted this command, the Gaurds quickly gathered up the royal Family and stewards. "Move it! Lorek, Man the Door with the rest of the Housecarls!" Commanded Irileth." Of course!" Lorek shouted over the Commotion. "Housecarls on me! We need to get a Bar on the Door!". Just as Lorek shouted that last word, the main doors to the Hall Crashed down onto him, Crushing him instantly.

 

 

The Whiterun Housecarls were some of the best warriors in the Midlands of Skyrim, some of the fiercest warriors, hand picked by the Jarl himself. Irileth Trained them from the regular rabble into fine tuned killers. But on this day, Their Courage left them, they had never seen a Dragon and Feared it was Unstoppable. What came through the Smoke from the Fallen dust and Debris from the Great hall door was not of any Ancient decent, but a treacherous invasion of Dragonsreach.

 

 

Fiona stood there, not knowing what to do, she had never faced a dragon, let alone been in a real battle. Sure she had slain a bandit here and there, but she was not prepared for whatever was coming through that hole in the Hall. At first there was silence, nothing but the sound of the hearths fire, then all at once a Great burst of Flame came through the hole. The fire stretched over half of the Housecarls, burning some instantly to small charred Corpses, and cooking others in their armor.

 

 

That was it, the Housecarls in their Yellow and Silver armor had enough, they couldnt dare think of fighting a dragon so, they ran. some were running to protect the Jarl and his Family, others were running for their lifes. Fiona noted this instantly, though she had no experience in a real battle, she was a legate, she would not falter, 'for General Tullious, For the Empire!' she thought to Herself and her swift tone legs started to pick up on their own. the Hoursecarls looks were of surprise and instant relization that if a simple Imperial Legate isnt afraid of a dragon, why should they be? Unknowingly to Fiona, she had just become the pinnicale turning point in this battle.

 

 

The Housecarls Turned instantly Following Fiona into the dust that was clearing, yelling their battle cries. "For Skyrim!" , some shouted, others shouted " For the Jarl!", the mood in the hall was all the same though, they were going to win at any cost, to protect their homes, their Jarl. all of this lasted seconds, as if some magical essence had taken over the mens spirits. Their swords glinted on the rays of lights from the rafters in the. Their spittle flying from their mouths as they shouted their war Crys. The dust from the old carpet on the wooden floor of the hall stirred from their steps. some pounded shields as they ran, others just stayed silent, waiting for the right moment to let all of their anger out.

 

 

As they started to rush for the open hole in the hall, fiona Noted something. There was no dragon at all, but a sea of Blue and shimmering silver, it was the Stormcloaks. The Stormcloacks started to rush through the hole in the hall, shouting their own warcries. The Housecarls noticed this as well, their shouts got stronger and more Eager for Blood. Fiona saw this and using the training she had learned from the legion, rallied up a Charge at the first wave of stormcloacks entering the Hall. They stepped over the door, the mage that had summoned the fireball was ahead of the pact, with a shimmering transparent blue oval infront of his raised right hand and burning embers of a prepared firebolt in his left.

 

 

There was a tremendously loud sound as the shields and steel of both sides met in the hall, it echoed off of every timber support and beam. the mage had sent his firebolt at the man at the tip of the spearpoint wedge the Hoursecarls had made, knocking his shield out of his hand with a huge burst of flame, and almost burning the man to cinders. as soon as that same man, who was just a farmer a year ago, was ontop of the mage, he slashed his sword at the gut of the mage, spilling his intestines on the floor infront of him, and yelling" Wheres your magic now Curd!". as soon as the two forces met, Fiona was charging into the line, ready for blood.

 

TESV2012-04-3023-03-53-06.jpg

 

dat ass

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I figure what's the point in writing if nobody is ever gonna read it?

 

I'd rather share it and be told my work sucks than have really great work and never let anyone else see it. I've been writing bits and pieces for the last 8+ years and, honestly, knowing that someone has read something you've written is one of the best feelings in the world. It's probably why I want to write for a living.

 

 

Ha, I guess I write to get the ideas and storylines to quit waking me in the middle of the night, and bouncing around my head all day. I just like to get my craziness out on paper so it doesn't suck me in and swallow me whole.

 

That makes me sound like a psycho, right?:LOL:

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I figure what's the point in writing if nobody is ever gonna read it?

 

I'd rather share it and be told my work sucks than have really great work and never let anyone else see it. I've been writing bits and pieces for the last 8+ years and, honestly, knowing that someone has read something you've written is one of the best feelings in the world. It's probably why I want to write for a living.

 

I agree :happy: I've always loved writing and love people reading my writing even if it isn't any good

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Not really. I'm the same. I do often write down ideas more often than develop them into stories. I have so many bits of paper or files on Word with notes about story ideas that I never got round to writing. I'm trying to get into a few things to jump between to keep me more active rather than sticking to the same thing because I often get bored of writing the same story consistently because I spend a LOT of time writing.

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  • 4 weeks later...

struggled with this one. Its more about the view point than the plot.

 

 

‘Lets Go to Africa’

I woke up to bright light which hurt my eyes. Mum was in my room opening the curtains wide like she did every morning. I groaned and wriggled further under my covers until my toes almost went over the end of the bed. Everything was pink and warm under the sheets.

‘Up you get little missy! I have big plans for us today’ Sticky eyed and sleepy I emerged from the covers, remembering with a warm fuzzy feeling it was a no school day.

Over breakfast of toast and jam mum explained we were going on a picnic. Picnics were my favourite days out. We would get Dad’s big map book – Mum would get it off the top shelf, Ben is too small and I can only reach when standing on a stool which Mum says is dangerous. We would put the book on the table and Mum would spin me around and cover my eyes and I would jab the book with my finger at one of the colourful shapes; our destination.

Today my finger landed on a large triangular shape Mum said was called Africa. She told me that Africa was not a country, but a continent; one big shape made up of lots of little shapes. ‘Do you understand?’ I didn’t but I nodded my head. I didn’t like to think too much on a no school day. I knew about Africa though. Dad had a CD of African music which was all chanting and singing words I didn’t understand but he picked me up and spun me and Ben round to the exciting drums and rhythm which I loved. Ben tried to help Mum find Dad’s CD, but ended up making towers out of the cases and knocking them down which made her shout.

The best part of picnic days was deciding which animals to bring with us. That was how it worked, I chose the animals and Mum chose the food. Ben wouldn’t let me choose any animals for him; he always took the same toy puppy with the chewed ear and missing eye. I asked Mum which animals live in Africa and she said elephants and giraffes and lions and zebras and rhinos.

I saw a rhino in the zoo once but all I got to see was its tail as it wouldn’t turn round. Mum said he was sleeping but I think she was lying as it did the toilet as we were watching. Ben found that very funny, I held my nose. I didn’t have any rhino toys but I had a Dumbo elephant with small ears. It had funny thread eyebrows that when you pulled one of them out the other one flattened against his furry grey head. When we went to India for a picnic Mum said that Indian elephants had small ears and African elephants had big ears but I decided that my elephant would have to do. Lying on the floor I looked under my bed and found a cuddly lion and a tiny giraffe, only a little bit bigger than my finger. Three animals were not enough for our African picnic and I looked longingly at my favourite big blue teddy bear which sat on my bed. He was Mum’s toy when she was a little girl but she gave him to me to look after when I turned four. I knew he was very special since Mum had looked after him so well. He still had a stripy napkin around his neck that I gave him when we had an arctic picnic and I persuaded Mum to let him pretend to be a polar bear. After a moment’s hesitation I added him to the pile and carried all four animals to the front door beside the picnic basket. Mum never let us see what food was inside the basket until we reached our destination so it didn’t ‘spoil the surprise’.

As she plastered me and Ben with sun cream Mum questioned the choice of my blue teddy bear. I told her there must be bears in Africa since they were such special animals. She said they had black bears, not blue bears but put my teddy in the back of the car anyway ‘as long as I didn’t lose him’.

Mum hadn’t managed to find Dad’s African music CD since Ben had made such a mess with the tapes so we listened to music from ‘The Lion King’ as we drove to our destination. I made my lion toy leap around Ben as we belted out ‘The Circle of Life’.

‘We have arrived at the Savannah!’ Mum said as we finally drove into a car park. In front of us was a large field with long golden grass and a small stream of greeny brown water, lined by a forest of trees. Shading her eyes with her hand, mum chose a spot on the edge of the woods – which she called the jungle – under the shade of a large tree from the warm sun. I put the little giraffe in my pocket and carried blue bear and the lion in my arms. I let Ben carry Dumbo as long as he didn’t chew him but I didn’t really mind too much since he already had funny eyebrows.

We laid down the tartan picnic blanket and I arranged all the animals around the edge in a circle. I put the giraffe in Dumbo’s hat so he wouldn’t go missing. We set out the plastic cups and saucers and Mum finally let us see what was inside the picnic basket. She had made us each a bowl of salad and rice which she said was called ‘couscous’ and tasted delicious. There was also a huge selection of different fruit and vegetables which she set out until our picnic blanket was covered in a million colours. Ben pulled a face at the celery sticks and pretended to feed them to his puppy dog with the missing eye instead. Mum tried to explain to us that African people used hundreds of different spices to give their meals more flavour but Ben began to get tired and eventually fell asleep on the rug with his thumb in his mouth. Mum put a hat on his head to protect him from the sun which was climbing higher in the sky.

After taking a huge drink of fruit juice I decided that my animals were thirsty too. Leaving Dumbo and the little giraffe with Mum who was reading a magazine, I picked up the lion and blue bear and made my way down to the stream. The yellow blades tickled my legs and made them itch so I lay down and squinted up at the sun, putting blue bear over my nose as the smell of the grass made me sneeze. When I stood up the shape of my body was imprinted in the ground.

Soon the grass turned into small rocks beneath my feet and I had to stretch my arms out wide to make sure I didn’t fall. When reaching the edge I crouched down and dipped the lion’s nose into the river, the back of my skirt trailing in the water. Once the lion had drunk his full I put him on the stones beside me and reached out to pick up blue bear. I managed to grab hold of his foot but then lost my balance and toppled sideways, gripping hold of the long grass just in time. I lay there on the bank for a couple of minutes catching my breath, proud that I had managed to avoid falling into the river but noticing with annoyance that my shoes and socks were full of water. I decided blue bear didn’t need a drink after all and turned around to pick him up, but he wasn’t there.

I stood up in panic and watched as a blue shape floated away from me down the river towards our picnic blanket. Quickly I covered my mouth to hide a squeal; I couldn’t let Mum wake up and see her favourite toy in the dirty river. What was I going to tell her!? I chewed my fingernails with worry and decided I couldn’t go back to the picnic and tell Mum what had happened. Picking up the lion I wiped his wet nose on my skirt and began to run towards the jungle.

My breath was coming in gasps and the grass was getting so long it was difficult to run through; like trying to run through water on the beach in summer. I thought about Simba running away from his family in ‘The Lion King’ and clutched the lion toy to my chest as I reached the woods. Desperate to find some shade from the sun I found gap in the roots of a tree and sat on the ground, my wet skirt sticking to the back of my legs. The lion toy looked up at me with a forlorn face and tears pricked in my eyes as I thought of the beautiful bear lost forever.

I kicked nudged a log beside my foot with my wet shoe and thousands of little woodlice ran out in a million directions. I thought about what would happen if a giant shoe kicked my house over and Me, Mum, Dad and Ben would have to leave everything behind or we would get squashed. Feeling guilty I tried my best to put the log back the way it was but the bugs didn’t return. The wind began to blow my hair about my head sounding like a hundred jungle animal voices calling my name. Remembering I had lost blue bear in the river I buried my head into my skirt and squeezed my eyes tight shut. The animal noises grew louder, angry and upset.

Suddenly a cold hand took my chin and lifted up my chin.

‘There you are!’ Mums eyes looked like they did when she was laughing, not shouting. ‘Oh look at you, your shoes are all wet, were you playing in the river?’ She sighed and lifted me up. Ben began to poke around at the woodlouse house and I told him to leave it alone. Mum still hadn’t mentioned the missing blue bear. I did my best to not look at her face; she was always very good at reading my mind.

When we reached the picnic blanket Mum had already packed away all the cups and plates and had gathered all the leftover food in a plastic bag. I helped her to fold up the tartan blanket, taking hold of each corner and matching them together so they made smaller and smaller squares. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mum would say when she found out about what I had done. My tummy began to feel very strange and I was sure Mum must have been able to hear my heart it was beating so hard.

‘Are you feeling ok darling? You don’t look very well.’ Mums face was filled with concern, not anger like it should have and I felt even worse. Tears filled my eyes again and I pressed my face into her cardigan.

‘Come on let’s get you home.’ She took my hand and led us back to the car. As I climbed into the backseat I decided there couldn’t be anything worse than feeling so guilty.

‘I dropped your blue bear in the river!’ I blurted out and held my breath.

‘Oh don’t worry I found him, he floated past us and Ben spotted him didn’t you’ Ben waved his arms around in the air from his car seat and in them was Mum’s blue bear. I squealed and grabbed him out of Ben’s arms and held him close. He made a squelching sound and had turned a darker shade of blue with river water. Mum tried to pull him out of my arms since he was so dirty and wet but she wasn’t angry.

Mum wrapped him in a towel and let me hold him close for the rest of the journey home. The feeling in my tummy had disappeared and my heartbeat had slowed down. As Ben began to snore, me and Mum sang along to the end of ‘The Lion King’ CD on our journey home from Africa.

 

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