The Writers' Circle

Prologue

The deep brown leaves gently rustled as a small mouse searched for fallen autumn nuts amongst the crimson bed of the forest. She scurried from leaf to leaf, muttering to herself in her desperate search for some food to ensure she would last the cruel, cold winter. Suddenly, she stopped. She stood frozen, a golden leaf clutched tightly in her shaking pink paw. Slowly, she raised her eyes towards the sun. Her jaw fell ajar and her ears fell back, flat against her head. 

Something. something dark, was starting to block the hazy rays of the rusty autumn sun. Something swooped low over the upper most bows of the trees. Something immense and terrible that stank like burning,  was moving with care. It turned its terrifying head first left, then slowly right, scrutinising  the dark forest floor. The sharp eyes glowed like the dying embers of a fire, taking in each and every sight.

Meanwhile, the petrified mouse had crouched low down beneath the leaves, covering herself with their protective blanket. She dared not breathe. She closed her eyes, shut them tight, scrunched into a tiny ball. She heard the power of the great wings as they propelled the great beast above her. She felt the leaves she had wrapped herself in, shudder with the breeze created by the beating of the huge, leathery wings. 

She remained motionless for what felt like an eternity in her short life. Eventually, she realised the great beast had left. She opened her eyes and listened for any sound that would show that the monster was still searching for whatever it had lost. The forest was silent. Each creature had stopped whilst the dark mass had flown above. Gently she raised her head and the leaves fell from around her. The sun was again glistening on the amber leaves, the drops of dew shining like rare jewels on the tops of the mushrooms. But what had the creature been looking for? The mouse nervously cleaned her ears with her pink paws. She had heard of huge fire beasts, that swooped from the mountains, but surely this was just folklore, myth, a legend? It was a tale she had heard from her Grandmother. There was no way it could be true. The little mouse pondered for a short while the hows and whys of what she had seen that day. But then a little mouse cannot think about big things like great beasts for a long time and very soon her small thoughts returned to the search for nuts and berries. By the time she had returned to her small home, thoughts of the dragon had left her little mind and she settled happily onto her bed of warm leaves and sweet smelling, dry grass. As she slept, her dreams of eating nuts were interrupted, on occasion by the sound of great screams, the scent of burning wood and the sight of the sun being hidden by immense, scaly black wings.

Chapter 1

The school bell rang and the children poured out of Scrantbank Primary school screaming and running with joy. By the old dark oak door, there appeared a young girl. An unlikely heroine, but our heroine in this story nonetheless. Her brown hair, once sleek and tidy as she had arrived at school, now poked out at great angles from her hair. Her pale, freckled face was covered with smudges from mud and her clothes were splattered with food and grass stains from her fantastic skid during football at lunchtime. Polly was a skinny child. She seemed to be completely composed of bone, covered in a thin layer of pale, ivory skin. But despite her small size she was deceivingly strong and could easily arm wrestle Max Burger in year 6 who was huge.

As she began to step down the grey stone steps into the warmth of the afternoon sun, she shuddered as the scratchy, piercing voice of Miss Gringle echoed down the hallway after Polly.

"Miss Polly Campion," the creature screeched as she emerged from the darkness of the corridor, blinking, unappreciatively at the light that hit her sharp features.. "What do you think you are doing, leaving the school looking like a scarecrow? What will people think of our school, seeing you in that state?"

Polly rolled her eyes and swung around. There stood Miss Gringle, peering at Polly as though she had just stepped in something rather smelly and sticky. Her hooked nose was wrinkled in disgust as she stared disapprovingly at Polly. Her skinny, crinkled arms were folded over her red tweed suit.

"I'm sorry Miss Gringle," replied Polly in her sweetest tone. "I will certainly endeavour to make sure I am properly presented from Monday morning onwards!"
Miss Gringle's steel grey eyes narrowed in disapproval at Polly's answer and Polly shivered as she swore she saw a faint red glint appear in those icy eyes. 

"Ensure that you do" Miss Gringle hissed, she turned around and disappeared down the crystal white corridor.

Polly breathed a sigh of relief and continued her journey down the path and through the spear-like front gates. She thought back to the first day of term, when all the pupils of Scrantbank Primary had been gathered in the hall, cross legged and wondering what was happening. They gossiped about holidays and sunshine and ice-creams. Then a sudden hushed silence fell like a blanket over the children of the school as the hollow sound of footsteps began to echo up the steps of the stage. Miss Gringle stepped out like a vulture onto the stage. She turned to face the children with haunting, empty eyes. 

A sudden whisper came from just behind Polly.

"Where's Mr Bee.."The sentence was never finished as Miss Gringle fixed her hawk like gaze onto the young boy who had dared to talk during her assembly. 
Each child in the hall held their breath, secretly thankful that they had not been the one who tried to ask the question that burned in their minds. 

Miss Gringle, however, tried to smile. The corners of her thin lipped mouth curled into her wrinkled cheeks, like a cobra ready to pounce.

"Of course" She uttered quietly, instantly gaining the attention of the crowd. "You must be wondering where your beloved Mr Beechly has gone? Well I am here to tell you. I am Miss Gringle and I have been appointed as the new headmistress of this school. Your. Mr Beechly has decided that you were all too awful for him to want to continue with his teaching career any more. He has gone on ..a permanent holiday." At this point Miss Gringle had licked her lips as they curled back into a sinister smile. The children shivered, one collective shiver. Then all at once, the whole mood of the school, once happy and safe changed in that split second to one of fear and suspicion, where even the teachers appeared to exist in fear of Miss Gringle. 

Polly sighed as she turned round the corner into Banastre Avenue. It was a long road, lined with beech trees and large imposing houses. The way into nearly every house was blocked with two or more shiny, expensive, modern cars. Polly dragged her bag along the pavement and clicked open the gate of number 135. As she came up to the shiny red door, she searched under the mat and pulled out a bronze key which she placed into the lock and turned.

"Hello?" she called out hopefully as she poked her scruffy face around the corner of the door. Her empty voice echoed off the walls. Polly sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She was used to coming home to an empty house but it still didn't take away the feeling of loneliness and boredom. She wandered into the kitchen and decided to make herself a sandwich. Mum and Dad worked long hard hours, apparently this was all for Polly's benefit. This paid for her presents and her lovely clothes (though Polly's mum was forever complaining that they never lasted very long!). But, Polly thought as she spread the margarine, that she would much rather come home to a warm house full of laughter and chatting, instead of a ham butty and a can of fizzy pop. Polly went into the large living room and settled down in front of the huge widescreen T.V. where she sat, alone with the ghosts of the screen as her company, until she at last fell asleep.

Chapter 2.

Monday did not go very well for Polly. First of all, she overslept and was late for school. Secondly, she forgot to pack any lunch and was hungry all day. Because of this she fell asleep during science and spilt the hot water she had been testing the temperature of all over her table mates books. They were not impressed and during the arguing that took place, Polly blew up and threw a large grey metal pencil case at Millicent Fisher. This, unfortunately, missed Millicent, but did manage to smack Mr Sugar right in his eye. Mr Sugar failed to see the amusing side of the situation and sent Polly to Miss Gringle, whilst balancing a packet of frozen peas over his swelling eye.

Polly had to sit outside Miss Gringle's office for what felt like an eternity. The school secretary typed away at the computer, occasionally stopping to peer disapprovingly at Polly over the monitor.

Polly stared around the corridor to take her mind of the impending punishment that was due. The happy photographs of children working or on trips had gone from the walls. They been replaced with notices, sets of rules and the consequences for any child who may dare to break a rule. A small, scratchy sound suddenly broke through the intermittent typing of the horse faced secretary. Polly looked around the corridor. What was making that sound? Then, Polly spotted it. A small mouse was busy wiping down its ears with its pink paws. Its little head was tipped to one side. Polly wasn't sure. But the mouse did seem to be looking at her! Straight at her. As though it wanted something, probably cheese. Then, as quickly as it had appeared the mouse took off and vanished through a crack in the skirting board with a quick flick of its pink tail.

"Polly Campion," cried the voice of Miss Gringle, causing Polly to leap from her chair with alarm. "How many times have you been here in my office in the last month? Four times? Five? Or perhaps even six." She spat out the last bit and made Polly jump even higher from her seat. "Mrs Roan," she said towards the secretary. "Please attempt to get in touch with this. this. her parents." Miss Gringle gestured towards her office.

With a sickening pain in her stomach, Polly stood up, and with shaking legs entered the dark lair of Miss Gringle's office. 

In happier times, in Mr Beechly's day, the headmasters office had been a jolly place. Children would come with drawings, paintings, stories or inventions to show him. He would say how wonderful, how amazing, how absolutely astounding they were and give the clever child in question a sticker or even a certificate. Now the blinds were drawn, the room was darker. There were no stickers on the desk, ready to reward hard work, but a sharp, glistening letter opening knife. Miss Gringle obviously liked little, cheap knick-knacks and had surrounded herself with gold, bronze and silver ornaments. 

Polly sat down in the chair opposite Miss Gringle. Miss Gringle sat down slowly, deliberately and stared at Polly. Her icy grey stare pierced into Polly's eyes as though she were trying to see into her mind. She placed her thin, pale fingers tips together in front of her face. Polly returned the headmistresses stare, although her chest was tight with fear. Her heart was beating in her chest like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. She was determined that she would not let this fearful woman win this battle. 

"So, Polly," Miss Gringle hissed, "Quite an eventful afternoon. You have single-handily ruined your class mates work, you have assaulted your teacher and you have wasted my time with having to reprimand you. I dread to ask this, but do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Oh yes! Thought Polly. I have lots I would like to say to you. But I'll save it for another time.

" I am extremely sorry Miss Gringle." Polly said with her most apologetic voice. "I should never have reacted the way I did but Milli." Polly was suddenly cut off by the appearance of a small mouse that began to scuttle across the floor behind the headmistress. The mouse gazed up at Polly. And then!! No, she must have been wrong. The mouse looked like it winked at Polly. Just then the intercom buzzed and the mouse jumped and ran away.

"Mr and Mrs Campion are on their way" came the tiny voice of Mrs Roan through the system. A shiver went through Polly. If her parents had left work then it must be serious. They'd never normally leave for anything, no matter how much Polly begged them to come to nativity plays or sports days. They were far too busy, earning money to pay for the mortgage on a house they spent hardly any time in. 

"Right" announced Miss Gringle. "Let's see how they like it when their precious little angel is suspended till the end of term." Polly glared at the headmistress, who pointed at the door, with a superior look on her face. With growing fear in her stomach, Polly waited outside the office for the dramatic arrival of her Mum and Dad.

The journey home was miserable. Polly had a very un-nerving feeling in her stomach. Her mother continued ranting about how Polly should be removed from that school anyway while her father sat pale and stony faced at the wheel. He never took his eyes away from the road and Polly knew he was angry with her for being taken away from his precious work. 

It was decided that Polly would remain home alone during her 2 week suspension from school. Aunt Cathrine would pop in to see her and make Polly some lunch. Dad felt that the loneliness would be a suitable punishment for her, while her mother said that the extra holiday would do Polly the world of good. Polly, on the other hand, was grateful for some time from school, but dreaded the boredom of staying at home. She had no idea, though that her life, so lonely, quiet and sad was suddenly about to change. And that it would change Polly forever.