Every Picture Tells a Story

One day, on a bright summer’s afternoon, just as the sun was turning a fiery Orange and the first few clouds were turning pink, Casper was curled up like the wind of the Arctic had just hit London. He was preparing for the journey. The journey that would change his life!

He had just finished his last bowl of “Dentist Sticks” when he reached up at the wooden door knob, and quietly turned it. As he stepped out onto the gravel path one more time, he thought about what he was about to do. He hesitated, but left.

As he ran through the Forest that his owner had taken him when he was a helpless puppy, a hint of sadness glittered in his sparkling eye. But he dared on, trying not to look back.

As he got to the busy town of London he saw carriages, sailors and Ladies in fine silk skirts. When he turned round, there was a pack of stray dogs watching him, carefully, with their bright red eyes. All of a sudden the pack of dogs slowly walked towards him about to pounce. Casper started galloping away helplessly. The pack followed. This wasn’t a game of tag, it was a dogfight. Casper’s heart was pounding so hard, that he could hear it over the noisy crowd around him. As Casper turned around the corner and into the crowd, the pack were getting closer and closer, Casper knew that he couldn’t last much longer. Behind him, one of the dogs nearly got a bite of his tail, what could he do? Where could he go? Casper sped up a bit trying to lose the pack, but his legs felt like jelly on a plate. Just then, a familiar figure came over and told the pack “Shoo, Shoo, you little rascals” then she turned the conversation over to Casper. “Boy, were have you been? You’ve scared me to death!” Casper knew who she was. She was his owner.

By Alex, aged 11

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I remember, busy traffic along the road. I remember all that noise, all that dullness and misery, it was different from my usual home. I remember getting into that carriage, not thinking it was the right thing to do, I ate that meat, then found a spare seat and fell asleep for an hour or two. The memory of getting out of that carriage not knowing where I was. And I thought that was the end of me.

My head was shaking, my body was shivering, my eyes glowed brightly in a very petrified fright and my heart thumped with pain. Towers so high as I looked to the sky, I didn't know what to do. Then there was, the clattering of hooves and the stamping of shoes, and especially the shouting of humans, was not like my usual home. Was I lost or strayed? I don't know...

By Rhianna, aged 9