This page features the creative and imaginative stories and poetry written by our fellow members.
If you have witty stories or poems to share, just email us at cedaroink@gmail.com together with your name and class.
The Computer’s Curse
By Tan Yi Min
Lysha’s point of view
“What a boring day!” I exclaimed to myself.
Of course, it did not help that our teachers piled us up with a load of homework that could be piled it up to be a paper replica of ‘Mount Everest’. I am sure I will have to burn the midnight oil yet again. I was on my way home from school,distracted with my own thoughts. Out of the blue, I stepped on a large, icky ant.
“Oh! No! What a mess!” I groaned.
Don’t these ants ever learn to get out of us humans’ way? Anyway, it was its own stupid fault for getting in my way. Without more fuss about the incident, I went on my way.
I was ravenous as I had not eaten since 10 in the morning and it was already 3 in the afternoon now. I grabbed a snack out of the fridge and then I began on my stack of homework. In between, I had a sumptuous dinner to replenish my energy before going back to my tortuous homework pile .At long last, I was done. By then, it was 9 pm. I decided to have my shower and then treat myself to a bowl of mouth-watering sorbet and an hour of ‘Tom and Jerry’ cartoons. I was already fantasizing about my reward. After the long, refreshing and rejuvenating shower, I raided the fridge once again, this time my target was the mango sorbet I bought with my savings last week. I scooped a generous portion for myself and kept the rest in the fridge. I then went on to turn on my computer. Little did I know what I was getting myself into…
The minute I switched on my computer, I knew something was amiss. Usually there was a starting page but now only a blank screen appeared before my eyes. At first, I thought that the computer had crashed. After all, this would not be the first time. Just when I was about to reboot the system, a picture showed up on the screen. It took all I had not to scream, for the picture was one of my friend, Jane. However, her face was distorted in the agony of a horrifying death. It was so gory that I could not even begin to describe its repulsiveness. Suddenly, something that looked like blood appeared on the screen. It flowed slowly to form words. I read it blankly.
“Be warned, Lysha Lee, your friend will die a painful death. You and your friends cannot defy my curse. I will keep you for the last. You will die even more painfully, for you have murdered me.”
What was that supposed to mean? I, Lysha Lee, who couldn’t even bear to kill a fly, have murdered someone? That’s impossible! Dismissing it as a nasty practical joke, I continued with my business.
The next day, I picked up the daily news. What I saw made my heart skip a beat. In bold, the headlines screamed “Girl named Jane, age 13, murdered in cold blood, Police leave no stones unturned”. Underneath it was the picture I saw during my spooky encounter with the computer yesterday. Could whoever it was be telling the truth? But it can’t be. I swear by my conscience that I had not murdered anyone. Feeling troubled, I went to school.
Maggie and Margaret, my other two friends, met me at the school gate.
“Hey, Lysha, what happened to you? You look like you have seen a ghost!” commented Maggie.
“Where is Jane anyway, don’t you and her always walk to school together?” Margaret added.
“She’s dead,” I replied somberly and told them about the nerve-wrecking scenario I had experienced. As I recounted the flurry of events, I started trembling, at first just a slight tremor, but slowly became a violent shaking. Their faces also became paler and paler by the second. By the time I finished, we all broke down into a sob - both for our lost endearing friend and for the horror of the so-called ‘curse’.
We were also petrified for each of our safety. Who else is going to make the headlines for a sickening death? Who will we be able to seek help from? Is the curse too late to be reversed? We had an inkling that we were dealing with the supernatural here – something that would not be able to be explained by modern science. Just then, the starting bell rang – a signal for us to go back to class to start our first lesson. We agreed to meet up at the room nearby the old stairway during recess.
I was not able to concentrate in the classes and was sure that Maggie and Margaret felt the same way too. When the recess bell finally rang, I dashed out of the classroom and sped to the agreed spot like a bat out of hell. After all, this was a race against time. Every second is precious as every crucial moment determined our fate – whether or not we will become another victim of whatever was haunting us. Maggie and Margaret reached there at the exact moment, almost causing a collision, but luckily we managed to brake in time. We then started a lengthy discussion on the problem at hand. We then decided to seek the help of the bomoh that lives near Maggie’s house immediately after school.
Time seems to pass by slowly, especially if you are in a hurry. I was practically bouncing up and down my seat in impatience and was very fidgety until we are dismissed.I immediately stuffed my belongings into my bag and rushed off to meet Maggie and Margaret at the school gate. We then travelled to the bomoh’s house.
We were at first hesitant to knock on the door as he was said to be an eccentric man. However, it was either that or leave ourselves to the mercy of fate thats seemed more omnious so we went ahead without thinking twice. The man strangely did not seem that eccentric to me. He greeted us heartily and ushered us in. We then told him the story in detail. He proceeded to ask me if I had killed any animal. After much recalling, I told him about the incident with the peculiar ant.
“Ah, so the ant that you killed is occupied by an ant spirit” the man explained. “But how do I get rid of it?” I asked desperately. “Fret not, my dears,” he reassured us. “I will take care of it. You are in safe hands. You are lucky you came to me just in time or you all would have been dead. I am fairly sure what your friend Jane is now. The ant spirit would have killed her and infected her with poison to change her into a zombie. It would also do the same for your friends, but you, Lysha, would be devoured alive by these zombies as you had killed the ant that it was living in.
I was shocked. I loved reading about the supernatural and believed in it strongly too but I have never heard of an ant spirit.
“Oh, well,” I thought.
“There will always be a first time for everything”.
We then hatched a plan to lure the spirit out. I would turn on the computer at my house as that was the way the ant spirit could curse us, and then the person who appeared on the screen would walk to her own house. The rest of us would shadow her.
As luck would have it, my house was vacant as my parents were away at work as per normal and my sister had CCA and would reach home only at 9 pm. With trepidation, I switched on the now eerie-looking computer. As expected, another gruesome picture appeared on the blank screen. This time, the picture was of Maggie’s.
“Www…what is that?” Maggie choked out in a strangled murmur that came out sounding like garbled words. “Ssssshhh…” I hissed and she shut up.
“So let’s carry out our plan” I said.
Actually, I was on the verge of breaking down myself, but I put on a strong front as breaking down was not going to resolve the matter and besides, I was the one who had created this mess in the first place.
Maggie’s point of view
I’m so afraid. I’ve always been the most timid one among the four of us. Of course, it did not help that Jane had died a grueling death and that we had a life and death situation revolving around the supernatural on their hands. And worst of all,I was to be the bait to lure the devilish spirit out. However that was better than letting us all perish together. I trudged along the all-too-familiar road which led to my house.
On the way past a field of lush emerald greenery,I could hear someone calling my name. The voice was fiendishly sinister and though my instinct was screaming at me not to turn back and to race back to the safety and comfort of my own house, I knew that had to face it so that others could destroy the demon. Besides, my curiosity was getting the better of me. I turned my head around and saw the ant spirit at long last. Except her red-hot coal eyes, she looked beautiful, inhumanly gorgeous. She screeched at the top of her lungs, past its normal capacity, as she shifted her eyes to the person beside the spirit. Jane.
But she didn’t look that much human either. She looked like the living dead. Her eyes are rolled back such that she can see the white of them. Besides that, her usually apricot skin was now a sickening greenish black. She didn’t appear to recognize me. She just looked… dead. Yes, dead was the word. Her face was devoid of any expression and was twisted at a grotesque angle that I almost puked. I didn’t want to be like that. Ever. i would rather kill herself.
Much to my relief, the rest of my friends and the bomoh showed themselves at that critical moment.
“Go away you wicked spirit and never disturb us again or I will destroy you!” the bomoh warned. The smirk on the spirit’s face changed to a contemptuous sneer. “When will you pathetic humans ever learn,” it mocked.
“None of you will ever be my match. But since you all seem to savour the taste of death, I shall grant you your wishes.” With that, she jerked her chin at us impatiently as if waiting to watch a good show.
Lysha’s view
Jane turned around and started clomping towards us with her arms outstretched ghastly. I was faced with a dilemma as Jane used to be my best friend and sworn sister. I would not fight against her. On the other hand, my human instincts to preserve self above all warred ferociously against my better side. In the end, my conscience overpowered me and I decided not to fight back. In fact, I was ashamed to have even thought of that in the first place.
Out of the blue, I noticed some movement at the corner of my eye. I saw the bomoh throwing some flowers at her. With a groan, Jane, collapsed on the ground and closed her eyes eternally.
The ant spirit gave a shriek of pure, unadulterated murderous rage at the sight of her pawn being destroyed.
“You will die! You will all die!” she screeched, her coal eyes burning a deeper shade of blood red.
She leapt towards us but the bomoh quickly threw some holy water at her. With a horrible yell, she was gone too.
We thanked the bomoh for his help and wanted to give him our money but he politely refused and said that his only request was that we visit him again soon and we agreed readily. From that day forth, we were blissfully undisturbed by the ant spirit again. As for me, whenever I saw an ant I will run away, which everyone but my friends and the bomoh found astonishing and amusing.
30 March 2011
You Can’t Drabble About Life
Life is too big a topic to be confined and defined in a small space like this. It is an immense adventure which every individual encounters that bursts with choices and divided into many diverse paths and not something to be read about or noted down in full detail. It should be observed, explored and discovered in our own personal ways as nothing is as exciting as the experience itself. However, if you do wish to learn something from this paragraph, remember that life is not as limitless as it seems and like a drabble, it will reach an end.
**************************************************************************************
The paragraph you have just read is otherwise known as a drabble, a very short piece of fiction exactly a hundred words in length. Drabbles happen to be rather challenging to write as it tests the writer’s ability to express meaningful ideas into a very limited space. Why not try writing a drabble of your own too?
30 March 2011
Potatoes
By Nurin Nazifa (4I)
If life was like a potato sack
You wouldn’t have anything upon your back
Potatoes for a day, potatoes for a year
Potatoes small enough to fit into your ear
Why potatoes, that is the question
Are potatoes really your passion?
Not at all, I would say
But they keep me full every day
23 March 2011
Regrets
By Baskar Shanthini (1A)
If only I had the right frame of mind
And life could rewind
I could undo the done
The mistake of none
Other than me,
Foolhardy old me
But, alas no!
I can never get rid of my woe
For what is done is done
Andcannever be undone
If only I had the right frame of mind
And life could rewind,
I could get back all that I lost
At such great a cost
But, alas no!
I can never get rid of my woe
For what is done is done
And can never be undone
It all began that sombre day
The day when I went astray
It was peer pressure
That made me lose my composure
I embraced drugs
And lost many hugs
I felt like a bird;
My health deterred
And with it came grief
Far more than I expected to receive
If only I’d said NOto drugs
And kept away from those thugs
Would I still have all that I’d lost
At such great a cost?
But alas, I will never know
For I did not say NO
And now, I shall never be able to get rid of my woe
Can I?
For, if there’s a will there’s a way,
And I’ll indeed find a way out one day
All I need is a new lease of life
And I shall strive
To get back all that I lost
At such great a cost
It is your decisions that matter
That will make your life better
Or worse
As even the smallest
Can change your life forever
As did mine
Learn from my mistake,
Say NO to drugs
21st April, 2010
If you have witty stories or poems to share, just email us at cedaroink@gmail.com together with your name and class.
The Computer’s Curse
By Tan Yi Min
Lysha’s point of view
“What a boring day!” I exclaimed to myself.
Of course, it did not help that our teachers piled us up with a load of homework that could be piled it up to be a paper replica of ‘Mount Everest’. I am sure I will have to burn the midnight oil yet again. I was on my way home from school,distracted with my own thoughts. Out of the blue, I stepped on a large, icky ant.
“Oh! No! What a mess!” I groaned.
Don’t these ants ever learn to get out of us humans’ way? Anyway, it was its own stupid fault for getting in my way. Without more fuss about the incident, I went on my way.
I was ravenous as I had not eaten since 10 in the morning and it was already 3 in the afternoon now. I grabbed a snack out of the fridge and then I began on my stack of homework. In between, I had a sumptuous dinner to replenish my energy before going back to my tortuous homework pile .At long last, I was done. By then, it was 9 pm. I decided to have my shower and then treat myself to a bowl of mouth-watering sorbet and an hour of ‘Tom and Jerry’ cartoons. I was already fantasizing about my reward. After the long, refreshing and rejuvenating shower, I raided the fridge once again, this time my target was the mango sorbet I bought with my savings last week. I scooped a generous portion for myself and kept the rest in the fridge. I then went on to turn on my computer. Little did I know what I was getting myself into…
The minute I switched on my computer, I knew something was amiss. Usually there was a starting page but now only a blank screen appeared before my eyes. At first, I thought that the computer had crashed. After all, this would not be the first time. Just when I was about to reboot the system, a picture showed up on the screen. It took all I had not to scream, for the picture was one of my friend, Jane. However, her face was distorted in the agony of a horrifying death. It was so gory that I could not even begin to describe its repulsiveness. Suddenly, something that looked like blood appeared on the screen. It flowed slowly to form words. I read it blankly.
“Be warned, Lysha Lee, your friend will die a painful death. You and your friends cannot defy my curse. I will keep you for the last. You will die even more painfully, for you have murdered me.”
What was that supposed to mean? I, Lysha Lee, who couldn’t even bear to kill a fly, have murdered someone? That’s impossible! Dismissing it as a nasty practical joke, I continued with my business.
The next day, I picked up the daily news. What I saw made my heart skip a beat. In bold, the headlines screamed “Girl named Jane, age 13, murdered in cold blood, Police leave no stones unturned”. Underneath it was the picture I saw during my spooky encounter with the computer yesterday. Could whoever it was be telling the truth? But it can’t be. I swear by my conscience that I had not murdered anyone. Feeling troubled, I went to school.
Maggie and Margaret, my other two friends, met me at the school gate.
“Hey, Lysha, what happened to you? You look like you have seen a ghost!” commented Maggie.
“Where is Jane anyway, don’t you and her always walk to school together?” Margaret added.
“She’s dead,” I replied somberly and told them about the nerve-wrecking scenario I had experienced. As I recounted the flurry of events, I started trembling, at first just a slight tremor, but slowly became a violent shaking. Their faces also became paler and paler by the second. By the time I finished, we all broke down into a sob - both for our lost endearing friend and for the horror of the so-called ‘curse’.
We were also petrified for each of our safety. Who else is going to make the headlines for a sickening death? Who will we be able to seek help from? Is the curse too late to be reversed? We had an inkling that we were dealing with the supernatural here – something that would not be able to be explained by modern science. Just then, the starting bell rang – a signal for us to go back to class to start our first lesson. We agreed to meet up at the room nearby the old stairway during recess.
I was not able to concentrate in the classes and was sure that Maggie and Margaret felt the same way too. When the recess bell finally rang, I dashed out of the classroom and sped to the agreed spot like a bat out of hell. After all, this was a race against time. Every second is precious as every crucial moment determined our fate – whether or not we will become another victim of whatever was haunting us. Maggie and Margaret reached there at the exact moment, almost causing a collision, but luckily we managed to brake in time. We then started a lengthy discussion on the problem at hand. We then decided to seek the help of the bomoh that lives near Maggie’s house immediately after school.
Time seems to pass by slowly, especially if you are in a hurry. I was practically bouncing up and down my seat in impatience and was very fidgety until we are dismissed.I immediately stuffed my belongings into my bag and rushed off to meet Maggie and Margaret at the school gate. We then travelled to the bomoh’s house.
We were at first hesitant to knock on the door as he was said to be an eccentric man. However, it was either that or leave ourselves to the mercy of fate thats seemed more omnious so we went ahead without thinking twice. The man strangely did not seem that eccentric to me. He greeted us heartily and ushered us in. We then told him the story in detail. He proceeded to ask me if I had killed any animal. After much recalling, I told him about the incident with the peculiar ant.
“Ah, so the ant that you killed is occupied by an ant spirit” the man explained. “But how do I get rid of it?” I asked desperately. “Fret not, my dears,” he reassured us. “I will take care of it. You are in safe hands. You are lucky you came to me just in time or you all would have been dead. I am fairly sure what your friend Jane is now. The ant spirit would have killed her and infected her with poison to change her into a zombie. It would also do the same for your friends, but you, Lysha, would be devoured alive by these zombies as you had killed the ant that it was living in.
I was shocked. I loved reading about the supernatural and believed in it strongly too but I have never heard of an ant spirit.
“Oh, well,” I thought.
“There will always be a first time for everything”.
We then hatched a plan to lure the spirit out. I would turn on the computer at my house as that was the way the ant spirit could curse us, and then the person who appeared on the screen would walk to her own house. The rest of us would shadow her.
As luck would have it, my house was vacant as my parents were away at work as per normal and my sister had CCA and would reach home only at 9 pm. With trepidation, I switched on the now eerie-looking computer. As expected, another gruesome picture appeared on the blank screen. This time, the picture was of Maggie’s.
“Www…what is that?” Maggie choked out in a strangled murmur that came out sounding like garbled words. “Ssssshhh…” I hissed and she shut up.
“So let’s carry out our plan” I said.
Actually, I was on the verge of breaking down myself, but I put on a strong front as breaking down was not going to resolve the matter and besides, I was the one who had created this mess in the first place.
Maggie’s point of view
I’m so afraid. I’ve always been the most timid one among the four of us. Of course, it did not help that Jane had died a grueling death and that we had a life and death situation revolving around the supernatural on their hands. And worst of all,I was to be the bait to lure the devilish spirit out. However that was better than letting us all perish together. I trudged along the all-too-familiar road which led to my house.
On the way past a field of lush emerald greenery,I could hear someone calling my name. The voice was fiendishly sinister and though my instinct was screaming at me not to turn back and to race back to the safety and comfort of my own house, I knew that had to face it so that others could destroy the demon. Besides, my curiosity was getting the better of me. I turned my head around and saw the ant spirit at long last. Except her red-hot coal eyes, she looked beautiful, inhumanly gorgeous. She screeched at the top of her lungs, past its normal capacity, as she shifted her eyes to the person beside the spirit. Jane.
But she didn’t look that much human either. She looked like the living dead. Her eyes are rolled back such that she can see the white of them. Besides that, her usually apricot skin was now a sickening greenish black. She didn’t appear to recognize me. She just looked… dead. Yes, dead was the word. Her face was devoid of any expression and was twisted at a grotesque angle that I almost puked. I didn’t want to be like that. Ever. i would rather kill herself.
Much to my relief, the rest of my friends and the bomoh showed themselves at that critical moment.
“Go away you wicked spirit and never disturb us again or I will destroy you!” the bomoh warned. The smirk on the spirit’s face changed to a contemptuous sneer. “When will you pathetic humans ever learn,” it mocked.
“None of you will ever be my match. But since you all seem to savour the taste of death, I shall grant you your wishes.” With that, she jerked her chin at us impatiently as if waiting to watch a good show.
Lysha’s view
Jane turned around and started clomping towards us with her arms outstretched ghastly. I was faced with a dilemma as Jane used to be my best friend and sworn sister. I would not fight against her. On the other hand, my human instincts to preserve self above all warred ferociously against my better side. In the end, my conscience overpowered me and I decided not to fight back. In fact, I was ashamed to have even thought of that in the first place.
Out of the blue, I noticed some movement at the corner of my eye. I saw the bomoh throwing some flowers at her. With a groan, Jane, collapsed on the ground and closed her eyes eternally.
The ant spirit gave a shriek of pure, unadulterated murderous rage at the sight of her pawn being destroyed.
“You will die! You will all die!” she screeched, her coal eyes burning a deeper shade of blood red.
She leapt towards us but the bomoh quickly threw some holy water at her. With a horrible yell, she was gone too.
We thanked the bomoh for his help and wanted to give him our money but he politely refused and said that his only request was that we visit him again soon and we agreed readily. From that day forth, we were blissfully undisturbed by the ant spirit again. As for me, whenever I saw an ant I will run away, which everyone but my friends and the bomoh found astonishing and amusing.
30 March 2011
You Can’t Drabble About Life
Life is too big a topic to be confined and defined in a small space like this. It is an immense adventure which every individual encounters that bursts with choices and divided into many diverse paths and not something to be read about or noted down in full detail. It should be observed, explored and discovered in our own personal ways as nothing is as exciting as the experience itself. However, if you do wish to learn something from this paragraph, remember that life is not as limitless as it seems and like a drabble, it will reach an end.
**************************************************************************************
The paragraph you have just read is otherwise known as a drabble, a very short piece of fiction exactly a hundred words in length. Drabbles happen to be rather challenging to write as it tests the writer’s ability to express meaningful ideas into a very limited space. Why not try writing a drabble of your own too?
30 March 2011
Potatoes
By Nurin Nazifa (4I)
If life was like a potato sack
You wouldn’t have anything upon your back
Potatoes for a day, potatoes for a year
Potatoes small enough to fit into your ear
Why potatoes, that is the question
Are potatoes really your passion?
Not at all, I would say
But they keep me full every day
23 March 2011
Regrets
By Baskar Shanthini (1A)
If only I had the right frame of mind
And life could rewind
I could undo the done
The mistake of none
Other than me,
Foolhardy old me
But, alas no!
I can never get rid of my woe
For what is done is done
Andcannever be undone
If only I had the right frame of mind
And life could rewind,
I could get back all that I lost
At such great a cost
But, alas no!
I can never get rid of my woe
For what is done is done
And can never be undone
It all began that sombre day
The day when I went astray
It was peer pressure
That made me lose my composure
I embraced drugs
And lost many hugs
I felt like a bird;
My health deterred
And with it came grief
Far more than I expected to receive
If only I’d said NOto drugs
And kept away from those thugs
Would I still have all that I’d lost
At such great a cost?
But alas, I will never know
For I did not say NO
And now, I shall never be able to get rid of my woe
Can I?
For, if there’s a will there’s a way,
And I’ll indeed find a way out one day
All I need is a new lease of life
And I shall strive
To get back all that I lost
At such great a cost
It is your decisions that matter
That will make your life better
Or worse
As even the smallest
Can change your life forever
As did mine
Learn from my mistake,
Say NO to drugs
21st April, 2010
To Whom it May Concern
By Sowmya U.R. (1M)Part One
To Whom it May Concern,
Unintelligent, dumb, stupid, foolish, the words have always hung on the edge of my existence. They aren’t ever said, just tiptoed around cautiously for fear that I might grow up feeling neglected or inferior or whatever.
Because God knows that I’m not Myles. I’m not an Artemis either. I’m just me, unintelligent, dumb, stupid, foolish little old me.
Even Myles learned not to insult me early on. One of my first memories is of him bursting into my room with a book on child psychology in hand.
“Beckett, do you ever feel undermined by my nickname for you?” He had asked, concern evident in his voice.
I had looked at him incredulously, I’m sure, though it’s fuzzy. I hadn’t known what “undermined” had even meant then. All I knew was that Myles had called me simpletoon for as long as he could talk. I had worked out that it was a vaguely insulting term a while ago, but I had grown used to it.
Myles had looked so distraught. “It says here that children who are bullied by their siblings can grow up to have security issues and may turn into bullies themselves.”
I hadn’t said anything, just stared at him.
“Have I had a negative effect on your upbringing?” He had enquired.
“N-no…” I had stuttered, not really comprehending.
Myles hadn’t seemed all that convinced. He left the room muttering to himself about the lack of education provided by our parents.
I think that we were five at the time. My parents still tell the story to their friends when they think we aren’t listening. They laugh at how adorable we were as children. I am still a bit embarrassed by it.
My parents are both intelligent people. Vastly so, in fact, and they knew a lot about raising children. I think that was the problem.
My parents are both intelligent people. Vastly so, in fact, and they knew a lot about raising children. I think that was the problem.
Like I said before, I never heard anyone say anything about my lack of brain power. Well, except Myles, who eventually grew out of his fearful stage and realized that it was normal for brothers to poke and prod each other. He didn’t feel bad about calling me simpletoon when the word nerd flew so easily off my tongue.
It was the adults that were the problem. They shuffled around me as if I were dying. Dying of terminal stupidity, I guess, because I didn’t know what other problem I could have.
To be continued...
7th April, 2010
The Basketball Player, the Witch and the Gym LockerBy Andrea Oh (2M)
(With special thanks to Chee Min Run (2M) for the inspiration)
“Why are we reading?” Troy
“Ask your dad; he said we had to learn from the past Wildcats,” Chad
“There’s basketball in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?”
“No, but there’s a lion, it says so in the title. Lions are wild cats-we’re the Wildcats. Get it? Now go change into your jersey.”
“Why do I have to get changed if all we’re doing is…”
“Admit it, you can’t read,” Chad
He had to find out. So-with much difficulty-he squeezed through the narrow door. And when he came out on the other end, he was in the snowy wasteland of Narnia.
“Oh, Peter!” a girl cried. “There is our saviour!”
“Saviour? Me? No, I’m a Wildcat. Haven’t heard of that team, sorry,” Troy
“You are a Wildcat? Even better! Edmund, Lucy, Aslan has sent one of his noble kind to save us from the White Witch!”
And, in no time at all, he had the entire female population of Narnia simpering at his feet. How that came to be is still a mystery.
“I love this place,” Troy
And suddenly the crowd scattered, screaming in horror, for the White Witch had come.
“You’re the saviour Aslan sent?” she said contemptuously. “I certainly imagined someone much taller, and charming too. But you’ll do for target practice.”
Then, with a wave of her wand, she turned Troy
“You witch!” a bunch of his fans shrieked hysterically. They pounced on the witch and successfully grabbed her wand-that’s how many fans there were. And soon, the Witch was, too, a dull and emotionless statue.
***
Nobody at East High particularly missed Troy
