by sophie scott
The killer fire!
By Sophie Scott
About the author
I am Sophie Scott and am 10 years old. My favourite author currently is Jacqueline Wilson. When I grow up I would like to study psychology, be a teacher or to be an author. I do not think this book is great even though I tried my best. At the moment I am hoping to read Anne Franks diary! Recently, I have decided to read more high level books to increase the level of my vocabulary. Finger crossed that it will be successful! Just to let you know I am aiming this book at people around my age maybe about between the age of 8 and 13? Hobbies I have are gymnastics, doing my nails and shopping! I also enjoy writing and singing pop songs with my BFF! Friends can be very important which is why I tried to include lots of friendship relationships when writing this book. I really hope that you enjoy it, have fun reading!
Chapter
1
The tragedy
Rain fell rapidly from the grubby window on the cold, grey day. Thunder screamed vehemently across the threatened earth like a water fall of tears. Watching the storm was a horrid challenge, although with a life that felt like a misery it seemed like every day life. A certain child, that had a dreadful life like this, is a girl called Stacey.
Stacey severely remembered the most awful moment of her life- when she lost everything she had ever dreamed for, and sorrowfully it seemed to go on and on and on and on and on.
It had been another uncomplicated day at her beloved home for Stacey, only she did not yet know what was in store for her and how many tears would fall dramatically from her eyes.
The sun was shining constantly and Stacey was upstairs skipping while humming a tune peacefully to herself. Down the stairs pleasant sounds of frying sausage filled the atmosphere expeditiously. The mild sound trailed up the stairs towards Stacey’s room- sizzle, sizzle, and sizzle. Amongst the hushed noises, Stacey’s mum was working hard on a sewing project for Stacey’s school.
The project was in order for Stacey’s Christmas play. They were doing the play of Scrooge which really excited Stacey and her friends. Stacey was lucky enough to be acting as the ghost of Christmas past because she was in year 8, which is the oldest year in the school. Friends of Stacey’s were Zoe and Kat.
Zoe had a distinctive fair face. Her lengthy, ash blonde hair fell neatly down her fragile back as her electric blue eyes dazzled when they caught the intense light.
Kat, on the other hand, appeared dainty and sweet. She had fluffy, soft, red bouncy hair. Her skin was a delicate tanned tone which contrasted to perfection with her olive green eyes wrapped around her pitch black pupils.
Suddenly, a burning scent began to ramble through out the small house. Alarmed, Stacey rushed down to the kitchen without any hesitation, completely forgetting her own safety, to ensure that her dad was fine and was not hurt. Grievously, this was not the case, the usual breathing sounds of Stacey’s dad’s hoarse throat did not show themselves, but instead the loudness of silence hummed savagely like they were aiming to kill Stacey’s heart. Stacey screamed into the silent air, expecting her mum to come rushing down the stairs almost immediately, although such things did not happen. The happenings were ever so brief because Stacey could not stay long; the fire was miles too tedious. Stacey raced upstairs promptly, with the simple intention to warn her mum. Wistfully, the idea was extinct. Stacey wished had realised that the kitchen was below her mum’s bedroom and had cautioned her to save herself- avoiding the kitchen. She wished. Now she was experiencing bitter disappointment; she had lost all she had ever wanted.
The next day had been bitterer than an unripe grape. Stacey had cried vigorously for the entire day wondering what to do- alone.
She sat on her mum and dad` s bed as tears trickled down her cheeks. Covering her puffy red eyes were her soaked hands, coated in a thick layer of salty tears. Her bony elbows leaned on her knobbly knees whilst she sat in a crouched position. Every few minutes she shuffled about uncomfortably, when she did so she saw the humble bedroom of her parents, and the phone perched in the bright, although misty corner of her no longer existing parents.
Finally, Stacey developed the courage to hoist the phone and dial 999, to call for help. They (the police, ambulance and fire crew) instantly transported themselves to Stacey’s house and made sure she was okay. When the nice ladies and men had comforted Stacey, all the strong men lifted the no longer breathing bodies of Stacey’s parents.
The emotion of devastation burned a hole in Stacey’s heart like a bullet had marked its position there. She was sure the wound would NEVER heal. The melancholy weaved through the quavering flesh of Stacey’s veins, like a river on a stormy night. She felt as though the pain was interlacing through her skin like a sewing needle, using unbreakable thread. The firemen decided themselves what to do with Stacey, and where she should end up.
The fire men made the decision to have Stacey sent to an orphanage for girls; Stacey did not like the idea but she had no choice but to agree, therefore she did so, reluctantly.
When Stacey arrived at her destination of the orphanage, after the worst journey of her life, she shredded thousands of tears expecting many more to follow afterwards. The brick looked like the borders of a prison, like they were going to lock her up until she was old and useless and leave her there to die like her parents had.
She felt old and useless, like she didn’t see the reason to live and how she longed to be far up in the sky with her wonderful parents. The thought of her dead parents was too heart-breaking to consider, on the account of Stacey’s current behaviour. Trudging in through the colossal brown door was the most intense moment of Stacey’s life. She peered down at the floor, feeling guilty, and she noticed the vast amount of dirt which disgusted her greatly. A wave of stench meandered up her nose- forcing her to snuffle in an unpleasant manner. A diminutive tear fell with a splash on the floor. To Stacey’s dismay it was her tear, fallen from her eye, due to her emotions.
Her eyes were a bright emerald green, like a diamond, they usually shone constantly, that day, was the only day, they were faded. One thing her and her mother had in common was that they both had the equivalent green eyes (often gaining them lots of compliments because they were so distinctive). Their eyes alone shone brighter than the sun, but together, they shone brighter that the sun on a hot day. Stacey feared she would never see the light of day again, or her mum’s perfect, feline face. Her mum had such a flawless face with her impeccable green eyes and her pure brunette hair. Her father, on the other hand, was a broad, brave figure. He had been a lover of all great things such as birds, trees and family. He never had a doubt in the world and relied on positivity to lead him through hard times. The most hurtful feeling Stacey was feeling was betray because her parents had always been so doubtless; she was looking at her future life a tragic. She thought they might they might be downhearted that she was being so negative, but her parents were dead, she had to get over the fact.
Mourning, she trudged through the door; head held low, barely bothering to fully open the heavy door. Stacey traipsed in. She was still glaring profoundly at the monotonous floor; until two bony feet sitting in black leather high heeled shoes forced her to stop in her tracks. Grudgingly, she peered up to see a slick, meaningful face scrutinising her like a hawk- trying to catch its prey. She remained silent (the lady) and wrinkled her nose in antipathy, then marched off. A plump, cheery looking lady waddled into the scene, grinning contentedly. Stacey decided that this was a welcoming tone and therefore smiled back heartily, despite the emotions sizzling in her mind. “Hello dear” She chimed delightedly, “Can I help you?” The smiling lady questioned. She also muttered, obviously hoping no body else would hear her speaking: “I see you have encountered with
Miss Battle-axe” She raised her eyebrow along with the volume of her voice and declared “She is a grumpy lady, don’t you worry about her and none of this crying child, and we cannot be having any of that! Now honey, let me take you to your room, because we have little space left in this orphanage you will have to share a room with Claudia, but don’t fear because she is a very nice girl!” the lady guided Stacey up the stairs- Stacey’s bag in one hand, Stacey’s hand in the other.
The corridors appeared to be closing in on Stacey, whispering the word: “Fear” repeatedly until Stacey had to clam her lips together to prevent herself from screaming.
Stacey and the plump lady began to have a chat; the lady introduced herself as Miss Cherry.
“Now what might your name be, dear and what brings you here?” She asked.
“I am called Stacey and- and my parents died yesterday because of a fire” Stacey stammered- clearly finding it difficult to say.
“Do not worry dear, all these girls have lost their parents in some way or another and most of them are extremely insecure about their troubles so don’t worry my lovely. You will be okay. Miss Battle-axe can be rather frightening at times, but when you get used to her she will appear far more friendly and better for company. I happen to be the cleaner of this orphanage (The one who make this building look spick and span!) so I get too peek in through the door at the lessons and I warn you now Miss Battle-axe requires respect and discipline. How were you in your old school? Did you do well? What subjects are you talented in?” Miss Cherry said.
“I was very well behaved and always tried my very best and I got above average as my achievement grade in all of the subjects that we studied!” Stacey replied- hoping to give a good impression.
“That is just great Stacey!” Miss Cherry chimed, shocked by how boastful Stacey had previously been!
After quite a lot of talking, Miss Cherry asked Stacey if she wanted to go and participate in the next lesson whilst Stacey began to regret boasting so much- even though is was true. Stacey nodded politely at the question as she did not want to be too troublesome for Miss Cherry. She also received the hint that Miss Cherry did not have the time and energy to be slaving around for Stacey and so she trailed off to her next lesson- History…
On her way over to lessons, Stacey though about Miss Cherry and how warming she was. Stacey appreciated her bubbly personality greatly and adored her cheerful opinions. Even though the glad thoughts of Miss Cherry still hummed in the back of Stacey’s mind, the powerful words- “Miss Battle-axe can be quite frightening at times” rung in her mind like sirens. Walking along the narrow corridors, Stacey searched for the door labelled `History` as she whished for the ground to swallow her up.
Eventually, Stacey discovered the door she had been seeking for and breathed deeply so she could hear each individual crackle emerging from her hoarse throat- like her dad had had. Gulp. She knocked patiently and waited- “Come in!” A brisk voice summoned. Stacey attempted to open the door-the hinges stayed stiff at first but after several attempts she managed to shift the door wide open to reveal a class of miserable girls glaring at the same lady Stacey had already met. Stacey frowned- depressed and embarrassingly soft hints of a mocking laughter broke out. The chuckling got louder and louder by every split second. “SILENCE” A sharp voice ordered. “I assume you are Stacey? Your surname is?” The same harsh voice inquired. The class appeared to be sniggering. While the sniggering continued, Stacey took a seat next to a young girl with a stout face and long silky black hair- she didn’t introduce herself.
“Brown- I am Stacey Brown” She said.
“Right then Stacey Brown, settle in, settle in, I apologise for my classes’ misbehaviour previously. Right, let us continue with our detailed lesson about world war two!”
Stacey suddenly interrupted “What misbehaviour?” which is when it hit off and Stacey found herself staying behind after the class was dismissed to consider her behaviour. That it how she ended up, alone, watching the grey weather outside.
