Once there was a bell, a bell that no-one knew how it got there. The bell had been resting from the beginning of time at the very top of a ancient house on the top of a creepy hill. Mouldy and made of hard gold, this bell had been still and silent for centuries. In 1944, a little boy, who was not afraid of anything, went to that house. As soon as he got through the gate, he saw a strange figure. That child was never seen again. Last summer, me and my friend went looking for that boy but as we got close, the bell went and we were in trouble.
Hi Ryan,
What a fabulous story and your brainstorming of different types of bell led to such a creative use of the prompt. I love the way you’ve made the tale so tense by using short sentences and a fast pace. I’m left with my imagination running riot as to what happened to that little boy!
5 hp
Mrs Addleton