An extremely impressive collection of characters were in class last Thursday. Well done to all who made a great effort not only to dress up but also to share their favourite book. Our photos reflect the genre types we enjoy most in Chestnut class: humour, fantasy, adventure and historic tales.
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Back in the year of 2012 there was a town (that is now extinct) called Southstead. In South stead there lived a special young boy called Tom. Tom lived in an ordinary yellow house surrounded by others that were all sorts of bright colours; except for one. The house opposite his was an ancient, decaying wreck called Blenty Estate. Everyone avoids this house because: A) the building had a putrid scent of rotting flesh coming from it. B) Sometimes at night peculiar sounds were heard from the building that drove most visitors away. Apart from tom. In fact tom was so drawn to the estate that he plane to explore that very night.
It was midnight. At last! Tom could finally begin his risky adventure. He clambered out of his window, jumped of his roof and sauntered over to the house feeling brave. Then he stopped. Should he continue? “Why not?” Thought tom carrying on to the door. Instantly the reek of rotting animals whipped his plump cheeks. He went inside despite the silent warnings from the night sky. Tom wandered over to a glass cabinet inside the Estate and observed the singular trophy in it. He needed a closer inspection. As he went to undo the clasp he was plummeted down into darkness. Further and further he went until he landed painfully on his back in a dark room. Suddenly the lights went on. Tom’s head felt fuzzy. He looked around, rubbed his eyes and stared frozen in utter horror. He was surrounded by meagre, shiny gumballs that were as blue as the ocean and as red as the sun’s molten core. He sat up slowly, his 4 foot body quivering like the puny trees that cowered at the front of my home. As he mournfully reminisced his family he braced for sudden death. Then he stopped. His favourite song was playing! By the time he stood up all of the tiny bead-like creatures were dancing merrily around a boom box. After 2 rounds of the Macarena tom stopped still. All of the gumballs had stopped too. He hiccupped. Oh no. they didn’t seem to take kindly to that! One of the gumballs screeched some strange words and immediately they all started morphing into…A GIANT-BOY-EATING-SLUG?!?!? In a flash poor tom was (once again) put into darkness. Tom awoke. Where was he!? The young boy started feeling around his surroundings. Oh no. very on no. tom knew what happened. He had just been swallowed by a Giant-Boy-Eating-Slug. Great. Luckily Tom was 8 and instantly knew how to get out. Yep. It was the only way… By Portia Have you ever wondered what lies beyond the shopping in the supermarket? Behind the shelves lies a tiny village in the shadows. Invisible to adults, the Kipkefs only reveal their presence to beings that truly believe.
It was a dull, grey Sunday and an 8-year-old Theo wandered gloomily down the aisle, following Mum. As Theo trotted through the maze of shelves he thought he spotted something dance through the cereal and waved at him. Something tiny; something impossible… Hastily he turned away to look at the comics. He dived for the Beano and began to read. But then on the shelf he thought he saw a tiny Minnie the Minx. “Did you just move?” wondered Theo. “I’m Kacy!” A bubbly squeak made Theo jump. “Alright, Theo?” asked Mum. “Yes.” stammered Theo, pale as a ghost. Then he whispered: “What are you?” “A Kipkef.” But before Theo had time to say ‘What’s that?’ he saw his incredibly ancient teacher who insisted on being called: Jazzy Jemima. He gulped, shoved Kacy into the nearest cereal box and darted to hide behind Mum. Meanwhile, in the cornflakes, Kacy was cramped in a cereal sea. Her needle-thin arms flailed as she hated the ginger-haired, freckle-covered boy that got her into this mess. Theo stared in horror as the lady (who was probably an Ancient Egyptian in disguise) took the very same cereal box Kacy was in and stuffed it in her trolley Theo started pushing through the crowd. “Theo!!!!” yelled Mum, who was now more bananas than an apple. But he was out of sight. Theo ran all the way to the disgusting vomit-coloured vases his teacher was looking at. Without thinking, the boy cannon-balled into the trolley and rescued Kacy from the death hands of the cornflakes. Suddenly he noticed that the trolley was moving, and, more importantly where it was going: the tomato stand. “Uh oh…” thought Theo. SPLAT!! The new friends were now as red as blood. Before anyone could stop them the vandalisers ran for their lives. But as Kacy wasn’t getting very far, Theo picked her up and sprinted up aisles, through queues, past unsuspecting members of the public and away from the magazines. Finally they reached Kacy’s home: the pasta aisle. When Theo looked closely he saw a tiny French man, complete with moustache, stripy top and painter’s hat. Next to him was his plump wife in a swimming costume. Kacy cried: “Mum! Dad!” and urged her ride in their direction. While Kacy told her tale to Kevin and Katherine – her parents – Theo peered through the gaps in the pasta. He saw an assortment of gingerbread houses and a tiny chocolate fountain. All at once he wished to be so miniscule he could fit inside them. Suddenly the peace was broken by Mum. She grabbed her son by the ear and pulled him away, yelling at the top of her voice that he was a disgrace. But Theo just ignored her and shouted: “See you next week Kacy!” By Sophie Hough It was ten o’clock at night. Lying in her bed, Araminta stared up at her star-laced ceiling. She didn’t want to go to sleep, or she might doze through her alarm. As she was becoming increasingly sleepy, Minty (as her friends know her) allowed herself to close her eyes. Her last thought was what she would explore in the whispering woods…
BEEP, BEEP! BEEP, BEEP! Araminta woke with a start. Sleepily, she looked over her shoulder to her clock. Twenty to twelve. She had plenty of time to get ready. She quietly slipped into her clothes, putting a piece of paper in her pocket. She knew this was wrong; slipping out of bed at night when her parents had told her not to, and to the whispering woods itself! She crept downstairs, past her drooling parents, and into the hallway. The shadows danced as she made her way towards the door, and stepped out into the night. Standing at the edge of the woods, Minty was thoroughly surprised with herself; the silence was like thunder – striking her insides with intense power, energy and weakness all at once. She was the toughest girl in her school by far ant yet she was standing right there and crying! Try as she might, she could not calm herself down! So, with tears streaming down her cheeks and blood red rings around her eyes, she stepped inside what seemed like a… bubble? The purple trees were being pruned by… pixies?! As soon as they saw her, the pixies stopped pruning the trees, bared their teeth as they sent purple twigs falling to the floor. Trying to ignore their gnarly faces, Minty stepped forward to eat a peach from the nearest tree. She was so mesmerised by the fruits, she didn’t realise there was a hole right underneath her! “AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” Minty fell through a deep black hole. She felt like Alice in wonderland, though in a boy’s suit. When she finally landed on the floor with a bump, ropes started slithering around her as fast as racer snakes! The more she squirmed, the more tightly her bonds kept her. After what seemed like hours of wriggling, she finally gave in. The instant she stopped, an old man hobbled in. He looked as old as an oak tree – Minty recognised him as a wood-nymph, most likely a king. He spoke to her in a wispy voice: “You can entertain us. Win at least 15 points, and you will be free. Win less, and you will be eaten!” I am melting! The boot in Amy’s car is unbearably hot. We are on the way to the beach on holiday. So for now I have to just lay here in the humidity of my doggy cage in the boot of Amy and her family’s car. Amy is sitting in the back seat of her car next to her was evil aunt Alesha. So I guess this car journey isn’t very enjoyable for her either. From inside my cage, I could hear aunt Alesha moaning and groaning, whining and wailing . . . suddenly the car screeched to a halt. We had arrived.
Amy jumped out of the car to let me out of the boot, and as soon as she did so I felt a rush of cool sea hair hit my entire little white furry body. A waft of sweet-scented air surrounded me. It went through one ear and out the other, up my nostrils and out my mouth. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and allowed my tongue to loll out inhaling the wonderful salty wind. It was glorious. Suddenly my daydream was interrupted by a sharp whack on the nose. I looked up to see anty Alesha who was looking evil as ever. Amy decided it might be better if we went straight to the sea. Aunt Alesha grabbed her sunglasses and lay down on the sand. The big lazy lump. Mum and dad went to unpack everything into the beachut, so I and Amy ran for the sea. Later, while Amy was splashing around and dunking her head underwater, I turned to look at the distant aunt Alesha. There seemed to be a shadow behind her. Silently the sharp crept towards the cup behind aunt Alesha, filled it with a foul smelling liquid (us dogs have excellent noses) and handed it to the evil aunty. I turned to look at Amy, but when I looked back at aunt Alesha . . . she was gone. I raced over to where she had been lying seconds ago; Amy followed. We found there: her blanket, sun cream, sunhat and of course the cup full of something nasty. But her sunglasses were missing. Amy has a quick brain and she must have understood what this meant because she cried “We have to get back to mum and dad!” We ran and ran and ran, till we could run no more. When we finally made it to the beachut we found Amys parents with another man. He was a strange hooded figure all in black, but when he brought down his hood he showed a beautiful head of golden locks. He smiled soppily at us. “Hello” the man drawled “you must be Amy” “Uuumm yes I –I am” stammered Amy clearly wondering that strange man was and how on earth her parents knew him! “Mum, dad can I borrow you for a second?” Amy quavered “Sure!” Amy told them the whole thing about the strange tea and aunty Alesha disappearing and- everything. Mum turned as white as a ghost, but dad stayed calm. “Don’t worry Anna” he said soothingly to mum. “It’s nothing to fret over.” The adults clearly weren’t going to be any help. We were on our own. Our first suspect was the strange man (Mr Galileo) because as well as being a strange man with a shifty personality, we discovered a sandy footprint on top aunt Alesha’s beach blanket. Plus that footprint matched the footprint of Mr Galileo’s shoes. The very next day we discovered a fountain pen of his lying beside the sun cream. It all seemed to add up, solving a murder was easy-peasy! At least it WAS until the day we were looking inside dad’s top secret box. Nobody but NOBODY was allowed to look in there. We were just checking for evidence when we found aunt Alesha’s missing sunglasses! And that meant that meant. . . The Cereal killer hates cereal sadly for him he is in cereal land. It’s late at night, all the cereal is asleep. The talking dogs are patrolling the streets. “Let’s go and murder some cereal!” whispered the cereal killer. Tonight he is plotting to kill: Cornflakes, Rice Krispes and Weetabix. It is very hard being a cereal killer because everyone wants to catch you; everyone locks their doors hoping to deter you – but nobody can-! The trick is as long as you don’t wake them up you’re fine. Certain ways to do that include: being quiet, making it so they cannot wake up and be quick! So he set off! He puts Corny Cornflake in a bowl and pours milk over him (cereals worst nightmare) and hope he will drown. Also, he will stomp on Poppy Rice Krispes and squish her to bits. And blend William Weetabix so he is no more than a mush. Here is what he did shredding William Weetabix; he turned on the blender, pressed down the button, and sent wheat flying. “Oh no the talking Dog siren - this can’t be good one word RUN!” Screamed The Cereal Killer! He pounds down the street. He pounds down the street but the Dogs are getting ever nearer. Sirens wailing everywhere you go. “Oh what a dilemma!” exclaimed The Cereal Killer, but it was no use they had clearly got him. “There is no way I can get out” shouted The Cereal Killer “they are too big!” “Finally we have the Murder King” (the nickname the talking dogs called him) they laughed; so there he went in the back of the van straight away. He was driven off to Cereal Land international jail. The walls were the highest any ware in Cereal Land and he was chucked in the jail, locked in there and made to work for the rest of his life. Meanwhile at the Church a cereal funeral was being held to remember: Corny Cornflakes, Poppy Rice Krispes and William Weetabix. “At least no one else will get murdered.” Said the vicar “I agree” said Jeff Weetabix.
It was quiet before Merlin arrived, just Mum and Me. Well, anyways my name is Charlotte and I live in New York. I love it here; always busy and fun. Mum doesn’t have much money. But that all changed. One day she entered the Lottery and won. Now she is super rich. I don’t get to see her much because she gets interviewed lots. But if it means getting awesome birthday presents I am fine with it. Two years have passed, I am 13 - tomorrow is my birthday. I lay on my bed hoping for an iPhone6. Mum came in and said “Time for bed, you don’t want to be tired on your birthday.” Reluctantly I snuggled into bed. Before I knew it my eyes started to flicker and I was fast asleep. I woke up. It was my birthday! Mum took me down the lift [we have a lift now] downstairs a massive pile of presents was in the living room. After I had opened all the presents, mum told me there was one more present left she handed me a box. As I pulled back the paper, I was hoping for an iPhone 6. It was an iPhone 6! Then mum said there was still one more. Fiercely I tore off the wrapping paper only to see another box. Mum told me to open it. It was a cute, small puppy! In the excitement I had completely forgotten about my new phone. But wait… I had to name it. Charlie? No. Sam? No. Merlin? Perfect! Merlin barked, he yapped and jumped on my lap. Three years have passed and it is only now that I have got to know Merlin. He is a complete sacredy cat he hates: the hoover, the hair drier, footballs and my phone! I mean come on! One day I took Merlin for a walk and I noticed he was limping lots. So I told mum and then she told me to go to the vets. The vet said “Merlin has broken his leg!” I was so shocked to hear this. Also the vet said “Merlin will need an operation to make him better.” Sweat started to trickle down my face as I ran home to tell mum the dreadful news. Mum ordered me to tell the vets to do the operation as it would make Merlin better. Nervously mum and I sat in the waiting room while Merlin had his operation. My time with Merlin flashed past me every minuet felt like torture. But I knew Merlin would be ok.Half an hour later the vet came out looking very sad he said “Merlin has passed away” I froze. The vet said “do you want to see him?” “Yes.” I replied. I walked into the room only to see Merlin’s cold body. A tear drop fell on Merlin. Merlin has found his place, the hollows of heaven above. Niamh, Holly and Max went to Quiddinham on Tuesday the 24th of January 2017 to see the Duchess of Cambridge arrive at the EACH hospice. When the Duchess arrived around 11:20 in a black jaguar with dark green range rovers in front and behind her. In the green Range rovers there were secret service to stop people hurting her and crashing into her. Also, there were secret service at the hospice to make sure there were no suspicious behaviour and made sure no one would hurt the duchess. She walked down the row of schools while loads of people were frantically waving their flags and greeted everybody and asked questions then shed talked to individual people but we weren’t quite sure what she was talking about it.
After, she had gone inside we replaced our flags with ones that had not been ripped and got fresh, new ones to bring home. So, we got onto the mini bus or Miss Yates car, and road a bumpy journey back to East Harling. At 11:55 am to tell our friends the amazing journey we had. |
AuthorWe're all authors here. Although Mrs Wills will post most of the content, a lot of it will be the childrens'. Categories
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