Author: Shelja Alawadhi

  • A Mist

    A Mist

    The town is silent, silent in the mist!

    And ceased in front of my window,

    In transparent silence-

    The crickets do not chirp here anymore,

    The birds fell silent a long time ago….

    But they hid the summer in themselves

    And they will continue their way….

    A must draws a ghostly picture….

    And fear fills my eyes.

    I’m cold…. where are you darling?

    A mist and a night.

    The town is silent …

  • Circle

    Circle

    Walking through the peaceful field of flowers,

    she stands still a moment,

    breathing the refreshing air,

    a fence stands two meters away,

    with vines wrapping around its ever rotting wood,

    Still,

    she can not help but remember the days before now,

    when she walked through the flowers just blooming,

    her world still young.

    The cottage that once stood,

    gone,

    the old tree still growing,

    gone,

    the world around her that once was,

    was Mother Nature’s next victim.

    Still,

    the mountains still grow old,

    the plants still die,

    her world collapses.

    she dies.

  • Missing Someone…

    Missing Someone…

    It was a quiet November afternoon, I sat at the dining table sipping a cup of cold coffee. It was the leftover from the morning. Meenu had already left for school. She had the special class in the afternoon and I was not expecting her till evening. The weather was sunny and sweet, but there was a slight drizzle. The money plant spread itself on the window and its green leaves cast elegant shadows on the walls. I finished my coffee and got up. There was nothing to do in the afternoon. Dinner for Meenu was already cooked and Rai would not return that night, for he had gone to Bombay. I lay on the purple sofa and closed my eyes. The light drizzle had worn off and water droplets shone like pearls on the leaves.

    School … I do not know what impulse made me think about it. School! The word rang again in my mind. And almost automatically, I sprang up, grabbed my coat, got out and locked the door. Enjoying the cool fragrance of the towers I walked down the gravel path.

    It had been six years since we returned from Delhi. After marriage, Raj and I had to stay in Delhi for about a year. He was the clerk in a local bank and the pay was low. we suffered a lot that miserable days. Unexpectedly, he got the promotion to a higher post and also a transfer. That had brought us to this small hill-station. was here that I had spent my childhood days and the small town brought back many memories. But there was no time for all that, I got a job of a teacher in a play-school, where parents found the haven to deposit their young ones every day. I also had to take care of Meenu, my five-year-old daughter. Ours was a busy schedule and were not even aware of the many beautiful things around us.

    As the cool breeze soothed me, I thought what I was never aware of, even though it was quite familiar. Six long years! For six long years, I had thrived in this place and never even once did I think of my past. I had walked through this gravel path at least a thousand times, but did ever see my past, walking or rather trotting school? I had completely forgotten about howl one blue ribbons and carrying colorful bags and played with my friends.

    I slowed my pace and sat on a nearby bench What had happened to me? What made me forget all those days? Perhaps I was too busy Or maybe I had concealed everything beneath the thick blanket of darkness. Was not I, even once aware, that all those memories were there in my mind? And suddenly, it dawned on me. No, it was not an attempt without a reason. I had not covered them myself but someone had compelled me to do so. The thought ° that very person filled my mind.

    I felt agony, a crushing agony. It overcame my happiness in discovering the cause of my deliberate forgetfulness. The face sailed in the air before me. It smiled at me and I recognized her. Roshni! So it was she. Oh! why do not you leave me alone? I shut my eyes tightly. But I could hear her. I felt absurd. There was not a soul nearby. I opened my eyes and patted my sweater. My eyes looked around. She had gone, Oh! But what were those giggles I heard? “Fooled you” somebody whispered in my ears. I knew… it was Roshni. I shook myself rigidly. I consoled myself by saying it was just the wind. But her memories grew strong in me.

    Why was I afraid of her? After all, she was my friend, my soul, and spirit. She was there to console me, to make me laugh, to feel happy and share precious moments with me. She … she was my best friend. Did I feel love and friendship towards her then, why not now? It all started with sorrow, The day she disappeared. The day I went to Delhi with my parents. I couldn’t control my grief then. Each time I thought of her, tears rolled down my cheeks. For days, after she had disappeared, I thought of her and cried. The sorrow was unbearable. I never got another friend like her. I never will. She was so special. Slowly had pushed into a dark corner of my mind. I controlled my thoughts and tried to forget her because feared that the mere mention of her name would make me break down into tears,

    And gradually, as the years passed this sorrow was transformed into fear. Perhaps It was due to my repeated attempts to conceal her. I was afraid of each and everything that reminded me of her. And I succeeded in forgetting them. Till now, until this afternoon when an unknown force compelled me to think of her And all the fear and agony returned. Suddenly I felt something warm drop on my cold hand. I was crying! I do not know when I had started to cry, or whether they were tears fear or sorrow But one fact I knew, I was crying. That too, uncontrollably. Each drop which fell on my hand seemed to pierce through. I took my handkerchief and wiped them off. Shivering, I rose. I wanted to go back home. I turned and started walking, but something held me back. The path! I had never been to this old part of the path.

    Avoid it But now a strange force was pulling me, I could see two girls, one fairer than the other, walking. The two images seemed to float in my mind. Roshni and I ran, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. “Reetu, Reetu,” I could hear someone call. I did not stop. I ran and ran till I saw the familiar cottage, I called home at a distance. Meenu was already home. It was only then that I realized how much time I had spent thinking of Roshni. After having dinner she went upstairs and played with her dolls,

    I slowly put my rocking chair in the garden, sat and closed my eyes. More than fifteen years had passed. yet those days, or in fact, the memories of those days lay vividly in my mind. It was safe there, even though hardly tried recall to recollect it. Those were happy days. I which was located at the end of the gravel path. It has long sineberdeerted, but ther, it was a lovely little school, till Roshni came there. We are already took to each other. We became intimate friends, and she was there in every part ofmy life. We played and studiedtoget rw walked to school together. In fact we existed together. It was something which came from inside our hearts, something spiritual, something indescribable not just something which spelled f r-i-e-n-d-s-p, Something much more. Till the day she disappeared. She had gone to buy some flowers for her mother on her birthday. She told me it was special and to keep it a secret. She told she would make mother happy. She did not. People said she never could again. There were many theories about her disappearance but none were proved.

    When still could not accept Roshni’s sudden disappearance, there came another another blow We were moving to Delhi. I left the town, the school and Roshni and the memories of Roshni The stars were shining brightly inthesky, The tall birch trees scattered the cool moonlight. A soft breeze started blowing. It consoled me and made me feel at peace. I walked indoors, shut the door and went upstairs. Meenu had already fallen asleep. Lying fully awake in bed, I became aware of what I had missed in the years gone by, I had entered a family and I gained a Job. But I had lost something more precious. I had thehappinessinsharingsecrets in gossipping, inplaying, in chatting for l ong hours. In rejoicing together, inteasing, I had lost … a friend. Friends have always differed.

    You could do almost anything with your family. But doing it with a friend was entirely different. The joy, the feeling and the relationship involved were different. When you have a friend, you never feel lonely. But now, I lead a lonely life. It sounds absurd that even in the presence of my family, my colleagues and my relatives, the absence of just one person stands out so clearly. You feel that you may never even notice it but you really surprise yourself when you do! I curled up in my bed. There was still hope in my heart. I was expecting that sooner or later my friend would show up. The pain in my heart started to decrease. Hope could do wonders. I looked out through the window. A cool breeze was blowing. The moon was still shining brightly in the dark blue sky and the twinkling beautifully.

  • The Cat Killer

    The Cat Killer

    It was a day of significance for the Alley Cat Band

    A dead cat was found lying in the alley on the sand.

    The Chief Inspector of cats came to have a look

    He took down some points in his pocketbook

    “Poisoned”, he wrote,” Then beaten with a stick,”

    Undoubtedly, the death was very quick.

    The sergeant put up a notice on the wall of a house,

    “Whoever catches the killer shall be the rewarded mouse.”

    The Alleycats were excited, they spread out everywhere

    They hid behind curtains, they hid on the stairs

    Some prowled in the garden, some walked on the street

    But the cat killer none of them ever did meet

    At last a brave little cat called Hon

    Walked into a large house, holding a gun.

    The house had dark windows and heavy doors,

    Inside, a maid was sweeping the floor

    Hon passed by her, unnoticed, into a room

    The room was dark and dusty, the picture of gloom.

    On a bed in the center, a fat old body lay

    She had a stick beside her, and a bottle of poison on a tray,

    Hon wasted no time, he whisked out his cellular phone,

    And waited till he heard a “miaow” on the dial tone

    He spoke to the Chief Inspector and gave him the news

    He promised to arrive soon with his army of mews.

    And soon, there was a ‘Rat-a’tat’and Hon opened the door,

    And hundreds of armed cats came marching across the floor

    The Chief Inspector, with his dart gun, led his army of cats

    The maid dropped broom in fright and hid under a mat

    Hon led them to the room where the culprit lay,

    Who surprised was hundreds of snarls coming her way

    The Inspector shot his dart gun loaded with fish bones

    The Alleycats started throwing their stones

    With a length of eating gut, Hon tied the lady well.

    And from her bed, the fat old woman fell!

    Thousands of valley cats cheered as the culprit was dragged to the jail

    The Honorablerable Judge of Cats refused to let her out on bail.

    So a Court of Justice was held the following day

    Where the Chief Inspector had a lot to say,

    Hon was brought in as a witness, in the case of cat killing

    And the old lady was accused of the killing

    The Inspector brought the proof-the bottle poison and the stick “There’s blood smeared on it” he decided with a lick.

    So the old woman was charged with the most offensive crime Which is murdering a prowling cat at night time.

    Hon got his mouse, and the killer her life imprisonment in the jail

    And as the judge said, there would be no bail,

    So a cell large enough to fit her constructed.

    In this gloomy prison, the fat old lady was led.

    So there the cat killer spends the rest of her life

    And Hon enjoyed eating his mouse with a fork and knife.

  • Strokes of Fire

    Strokes of Fire

    The atmosphere of the dressing room was terrific. We were breathless with excitement. ‘What would happen?’ I finished fixing my pads and looked out onto the pitch where our captain and vice-captain were trying to make the best of what they could for the ridiculous run-rate set on us due to rain.

    The bowler applied saliva to the ball and wiped the spittle off his flannels. He came to bowl the last delivery of his over. Tharanga, the vice-captain, came forward, determined to hit the ball over the ropes. But the ball was short, and it went straight to the keeper who took the bails off. Tharanga glanced at the skipper who shrugged. Then he walked back to the pavilion ere was one more over to go!

    I put on my gloves and picked up my bat. It seemed very heavy. Tharanga nodded at me smiling. Had it not been for his innings, We would never have been any closer to the winning target. Thilan was waiting for me I could imagine the stress in his mind and the strain on his shoulders. He just gave me the “Do not let us down” glance and went back.

    Twenty-six runs to make in this over. That was was my task. I was supposed to be the fastest batsman in both the club cricket and the school cricket teams, but this was my first international match, and I tell you the pressure was unbearable. The crowd was the opposition.The rival captain had a long discussion with his most formidable strike- bowler, much to the annoyance of the umpire, who kept on looking at his watch.

    The discussion was over and the bowler came running to bowl again. My fear was draining away. The bowler, smarting about being hammered in the previous delivery, came to bowl. The delivery was pitched outside the off-stump and I went for the cut shot. Before the fielder was back, I had time to cross over a single. I was about to sign with relief when suddenly I heard the word “two” being shouted. It took me a split second to realise what was happening. Then I ran for my life, I saw the ball landing in the wicket keeper’s gloves. Before he could act, I drove, and half a second later I could hear the ‘click’as the bails came off. There was a big commotion as the opposition thought I was out. The third umpire was called and we waited breathlessly for the result. He took his time to ruffle me, for it took him around two minutes to give his decision, but when it came, I was elated by the green light that shone. The opposition went back to their places, muttering that the umpiring was based and what-not.

    The pacer adjusted the grip and trotted in. The ball pitched way too short and using my instincts, I managed to hit the stands. In disgust he spat out, took the ball and went back to his running mark He turned around and gave me a hard stare. Then he came charging in and bowled onto my leg-stump, which1s my favorite area. I pulled it over the square-leg boundary There was pin-drop silence in the crowd who had gathered to see their home-side win.

    If I could hit the next delivery for a six we would win the match. I waited for the ball and had goat missing it by inches. The fielding side’s over-enthusiastic appeal was turned down and there was still more muttering that the umpires were cheats.

    The pressure that had left me was now back. I had to hit a six off the last delivery and now my head was burning. The supporters of the opposition realizing that their side might win were using all their lung power and inspiring the fielders. The bowler went back to his run mark.

    One more ball six runs needed for victory. It is an uphill task. The crowd was as silent as the grave. I took strike. I saw nothing but the bowler. The ball left his hand and came me. I charged it down the track and swung wildly. I heard a click and saw the bowler out-stretching his hand, grasping at thin air as the ball flew over him. I followed the ball with my gaze and saw that it cleared over the ropes. Our supporters are jubilant. I ran my fingers through my hair pushing, it back. I felts someone behind me and w that it was Thilan who hugged me with delight. He went to do the formalities. I turned around, grabbed the stumps and walked slowly back to the dressing r

  • An Orphan

    An Orphan

     The sun peeps over the horizon

    And reflects its bright colored hues

    The gleaming sun brightens the world

    And suffocates me to the full.

    The cement on the sidewalks, 

    Has made me stiff as a bone. 

    The ultraviolet rays gleam on my face 

    Makes me wake up to the unrealistic world 

    To face poverty all over again. 

    I am all alone in this world 

    My parents I do not know 

    I was raised up in a home for orphans 

    And thrown up last year because I was too old 

    Two and a half years I suffered.,

    Now I have suffered more than enough 

    I am ready for a change, when will that happen. 

    When merciless people dominate

    and don’t care about me a cent? 

    When I wake up, every morning 

    I see children of my age go to a glorious world called School 

    Where they receive the education

    Whereas I receive none. 

    I lie on the streets begging from people 

    Something I despise to do. 

    But, was born that way 

    I cannot erase that black mark; what else can I have mercy on me, and pity us orphans some more. 

    Not by throwing a coin or two 

    Visit the home for orphans and stranded children. 

    Think of the children who dream of the joys 

    Which you hold your hands. 

    Waiting, lying the streets 

    Hoping to be taken in.

    To receive all comforts 

    Not lying in the streets homeless, penniless.

     Appealing mercifully to you…..

  • Rahul’s High-Flying Adventure

    Rahul’s High-Flying Adventure

    “Trinng, Trinng,” the telephone rang in the middle of my favorite TV program. I called out to my mother and asked her to answer the phone. But her reply was in-he negative so I had to answer the phone.

    Thus, grumbling about not being able to watch one’s favorite program peacefully, I lifted the receiver and said, more out of habit rather than courtesy ‘Hello, 472-9142. whom do you want to speak to?

    “Hello,” came a rather pleasant voice over the phone. It was a lady, s voice.

    “I am speaking from the number one game show on TV, ‘Hit the Jackpot,’ which was shown daily, in the evenings, on Aar Kay TV Can I speak to Master Rahul Mehta, please?”

    “Speaking, “I said in a very excited voice.”

    “Sir, you’ve won the bumper prize that is awarded every month for answering all the 30 questions asked on, Hit the Jackpot, correctly.”

    I was shocked and sat there stunned. Then I thought that this might a dream. But after a painful experience on my thighs, all such doubts were dispelled.

    There were two reasons for my thinking this. The first reason was that no member of my family had ever won even a consolation prize on the umpteen number of windows, awarding prizes on TV. Secondly, no one had addressed me as’Sir’throughout my life of 13 long years.

    As I was thinking about all this, the lady spoke again, “Sir, are you on the line?”

    “Yh … yes, yes.”

    “Sir, as you must know, the prize is a four day trip to Singapore for four so that your whole family can enjoy the trip. Do not forget to watch Hit the Jackpot, every day. Bye, Bye. ”

    “I, thank you very much.”

    She had already hung up, but I was too excited to notice that.

    “Mummy, mummy,” I ran to the kitchen, and at the top of my voice shouted, “Mummy, ‘ve won the bumper prize hit the Jackpot!”

    “Oh! Have you? What is it? What is it? Tell me, “she exclaimed in a voice which sounded pretty excited.

    “It is a trip to Singapore, for four nights and days and it is for four people.”

    “Your father will be very happy to hear this. Well, you were always dreaming of going abroad. Now, your dream is about to become reality.”

    Yes, I know, and I am very happy when I think about it.This must be the happiest moment of my life.Yahoo!”

    When my father came home, we explained everything to him and he was very happy just as my mother had said. We received our tickets two weeks later. They were valid for about a month from the date on which we got them.

    It is really an ironic thing, that when we are waiting for something that we would like to happen, each day or hour seems like an age, while when we are enjoying ourselves, time passes in the twinkle of an eye. This time as usual, the days took a long time to pass and so what was only a month, seemed like 30 long years.

    At last, the much-awaited day came and we were off to the airport, in a taxi, to board the plane. After going through all the formalities we went and sat the airport lounge where we had made, for them to stay till an announcement was made, for the passengers to board the plane.

    Inside the plane, I got the window seat, while passengers to board the plane. my motherandfathergot the middle and the aisle seats respectively,

    Across the aisle was seated a very old man His back was bent. His condition seemed very pitiable But, somehow n e did not look very natural to me. Maybe he was a hijacker, who was in the guise of an old man to fool everybody.

    Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the pilot’s announcement asking us to fasten our seat-belts as the plane was going to take off.

    The plane took off with great speed and was soon over the city.

    Time passed, and I was looking into the vast Bay of Bengal thinking that I had seen a whale when I heard a sharp cry behind me, I turned around and saw that the air-hostess was standing there. She had dropped the lunch tray on the lap of a young man sitting behind the elderly person.

    Slowly, he got up, I was expecting him to scold her for her carelessness. Instead, he kept quiet and was looking at the plane. Now I could see why the air-hostess had acted as she had. The young man had a gun on her hip.

    “Nobody moves or el …” he fell down with a thud and the air-hostess screamed again.

    The old man got up, surprisingly with a straight back and said in a commanding voice, “Passengers, there is no need to worry, The dangerous hijacker has been taken care of.” It was very surprising that such an old, senile man had such a commanding voice.

    Suddenly he took off his mask to reveal the face of the great C.I.D. detective Karan “sharp-eyed”, Malhotra. “I know that all of you must be eager to know how this was accomplished.”

    As most of you have identified me, I think there is no point in introducing myself. But anyway, I am Karan Malhotra, also known as sharp-eyed, Malhotra by the media — I am C.ID. detective and have come here as a representative of that organization. We, earlier this week, received information from secret sources that this plane was to be hijacked by the member of the notorious terrorist group Ol-Gawn.

    I boarded this plane disguised as an old man so as not to arouse suspicion. When the hijacker stood up, I took my chance and shot a tranquilizer dart in his legs- This will keep him unconscious for three hours. But first, we have to search him and tie him to his seat, so that even if he wakes up before the end of the flight, he would not be able to do any mischief.

    Now I realized why I had not been able to understand why the hijacker had become unconscious suddenly. It was because of the puny size of the dart which made it almost invisible.

    The search on him demonstrated useful as two bombs and cyanide capsule tied around his neck were found on him.After the search, he was tied to his using a rope provided by the air-hostess used by the hijacker as a hostage.

    The plane reached Singapore safely and I had a whale of a time. Even the room was very big as it was for four and we were only three. The return journey was uneventful and we reached

    Calcutta safely. I related the story to all my friends showed them the autograph I had taken from Mr. Malhotra on the plane. At first, they did not believe me, but the autograph did the trick. I became a celebrity overnight. All this was because of the trip and I will remember two things throughout my life because of this. One, the trip itself and the other, to watch “Hit the Jackpot, every day!”

  • My companion

    My companion

    Ours is a small family. My parents, my grandmother and I made up our family. Being the only grandchild in the family, my grandmother’s love and indulgence made me king of the desperado. Every time I played some mischief my grandmother came to my defense. When that grand old lady suffered a heart attack and that too when my father was away from home, it made me feel very upset. My father had gone to our ancestral home located in a remote village in Bihar to settle some disputes over our agricultural land. My grandmother was rushed to a hospital and put in ICCU. While my mother stayed back to take care of my grandmother took our car and the driver to bring back my father. It was about 5.30 in the afternoon when we started. We had almost reached our destination when a mob of about a hundred people blocked our way. There had been a fatal accident and they were not in a mood to listen to any reason until some police official reached the spot and assured compensation. I was at loss at what to do but suddenly I remembered detour by which we could reach our village. We reversed our car and the detour. After going some distance it was no more motorable. We stopped there for a while and could not decide what to do. The driver did not know the route. Moreover, someone had to be left behind to guard the car itself. There was total darkness all around and I was not very confident about myself. I looked at my radium dialed wristwatch. It was 8.35 p.m. As I was bracing myself for the walk, a robust black dog appeared from nowhere. Both of us were very surprised and even more surprising was the way it behaved. It wagged its tail and tried to lick me in a familiar manner as if it had known me for years. I was first to feel uncomfortable and as began walking, the dog also came along. The dog walked a little ahead of me and had to be very familiar with the place. As we walked along the road forked out in two directions. Though I was undecided which one to follow, the dog led me from the front and one direction As we were passing beneath the menacingly obscure trees a sudden blood-curdling sound sent cold shivers down my spine. I stopped dead and almost fainted as heard the flapping of wings. I guessed it to be an owl. As I steadied myself again the dog appeared to motion me to move forward. It was past nine as I looked at my watch. We passed through meadows and fields and came to a place where the road made its way through thick bushes on either side. 

    The darkness appeared to have to formed lumps on the bushes and the glinting fireflies made it eerier. Suddenly I noticed a pair of eyes glowing brightly. My companion also sensed something wrong and started growl and then pounced on it. The menacing fight and the howling and growing of two fighting animals made the situation too much for me and I fainted. When I opened my eyes, I could faintly make out my father’s blending over me. My father looked extremely worried and continued to ask me why and how I came to be there. When I told him what happened until I lost consciousness, he became all the more worried. When I asked him how I got there he explained that I was lying unconscious on the road and the dog was sitting next to me. Some of our village folk on their way back home from the cinema picked me up and brought me back.

    Surprisingly, the dog followed them till they reached the fringe of our villagr but was not to be seen after that. While I was being attended to by the doctor, my father sent some men to bring back the car by another route. It came within half an hour and we were on our way back home. We reached home past midnight and knocked the door. One of our neighbors opened the door. We rushed in and found my grandmother lying at the center of the room covered with flowers and wreaths. My mother, sat motionless near her head. I felt like crying, but a lump in my throat chocked my voice. My father controlled himself for some time and then asked my mother how it happened. My mother told him everything upto her granny’s hospitalization upto which I knew, expect that she regained consciousness for a while at 8:30 p.m. and wanted to see me and my father. When told that I had sent to bring my father, her eyebrow wrinkled with worry and she didn’t appreciate my mother’s wisdom of sending me alone. Next moment she slumped into unconsciousness again and breathed her last at 8:35 p.m. The timing flashed through my mind could faintly and it occurred to that that that was exactly at that moment that I was hesitantly pondering in that desolate place whether to go ahead or not when my companion, my Savior of that night appeared from no where to escourt me safely to my father. Was it just a coincidence or……

    Does it surprise you then that people say that my love for and indulgence of animals borders on madness?

  • My Tortoise “Rakete”

    My Tortoise “Rakete”

    She was very old and very slow. But when she saw a red thing like a tomato she could run very fast.

    Last summer my mother painted her toenails red and opened around the house without her socks and shoes on. When Rakete saw this she ran after my mother. But my mother did not know that she sits on a chair and stretched her legs. Suddenly my tortoise came up to my mother’s feet and bit her toe. My mother shrieked and Rakete was disappointed-it was no because of tomato or strawberry.

    That was funny and I often remember it. Three weeks later Rakete ran away. Everybody in the family was sorry.

  • Spooky Night on a School Camp Out

    Spooky Night on a School Camp Out

    Shadows dancing on the tent wall,

    like dark, mysterious monsters

    who will jump out at you any minute!

    The flames from the campfire

    glow and flicker like fireworks.

    While spooky stories are told.

    Stories told about ghosts,

    werewolves,

    witches, and vampires.

    Around us,

    trees move and start to look like human beings,

    their branches swaying in the wind like giant

    hands.

    Some people dress up as demons and ghosts

    to try to frighten their friends.

    You hear the screams of terror from the tents

    where other frightened children sleep.

    Everything becomes scary.

    Marshmallows being toasted look like the faces

    of an angry ghoul,

    the owls hooting become the melancholy call of

    a ghost,

    stars became glowing bugs,

    waiting to land on us and bite us so we will die,

    the moon becomes a face that is going to eat me

    up!

    Suddenly the teacher comes,

    “Go to Bed” he shouts.

    “All that silly talk will give you nightmares!”

    We all scurry into our tents

    and jump into our sleeping bags.

    We pretend we are all asleep

    and the teacher goes into his tent

    thinking that he’s calmed everything down.

    But suddenly the tent springs to life,

    the ghost stories continue.

    stories about ghouls, magicians, and skeletons.

    I can tell that all my friends are getting scared

    by their voices which are like a soft moan.

    I feel safe inside my warm, sleeping bag

    everyone is getting tired.

    I can tell by the expressions on their faces,

    Finally, one by one we all fall asleep.

    I dream of lovely things like rainbows,

    unicorns, fairies, strawberries and ice cream,

    puppies and kittens and most of all,

    the joy of going home the next day!