Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52ISSUE THREE October 2016 33 Reflections from our Learning Areas - Year 5-8 Mr. Linden’s Library (abridged) HE had warned her about the book. Now it was too late. The rapidly crawling virus begins to creep its way around tables, chairs, anything within its reach. It climbs up the door, locking the handle, trapping her. Surely, this would be the last place she would see. The intoxicating scent of ivy only hangs in the street outside for moments – then the window closes. The lamp by her bed flickers, and then goes out – the bed starts to buckle. Now she wakes and discovers what’s happening. A blood-curdling scream is lost as it comes into her mouth, her soul… and then all is silent. She rises – once, twice, three times – and the darkness recedes. Yet the light is still off, and the window is still closed. The girl emits a gentle hiss, then falls into deep sleep. As morning rises the girl opens her mouth – but she cannot speak. All that is left is a great hole. She puts sunglasses on – no one must know. He had been right. He had not warned her enough. He was going to pay. She stalks out of her bedroom, casting a stormy glance at her mother. Without a word, she slips a hand over a slice of toast and it’s gone. As she creeps outside a subtle darkness follows her. Tiny drops of poison fall out of her hair and sink into the ground with the receding sound of something burning. As she continues down the street little sprouts of the virus erupt from the ground, snaking their way through the city silently, unnoticed. She finds the library and pushes the door open – where her hands touch the wood there are only burnt-out holes. No one glances at her, no one asks her what she wants – but the soft, gentle smell of a cigarette and the waft of bubble gum mixed with a tingling of cinnamon brings her to Mr Linden’s office. As she places her face and hand against the slightly opaque glass she breaths out – an intoxicating sound like glass tinkling, poison spilling and food burning – and she opens her mouth to reveal fangs, newly grown, glistening and sharp – with just a tinge of blood shining scarlet on the ends. Meanwhile, the mother walks upstairs slowly – to discover her husband lying on the ground, silent. The book has dropped to the floor. Something bad – very bad – is coming out of it… It slowly unravels itself from the late father’s neck – his head relaxes, eyes roll back. There is a gasp – a shriek, a howl… then silence. All but a book dropping to the floor and pages fluttering in the gentle breeze are coming from the open door. Inside his office Mr Linden is pacing – he knows his time is up. A bead of sweat drops onto his shoulder – then at once the girl’s features relax. How? He wonders. She falls in a crumpled heap on the floor and people rush to help her. As she wakes up she can hear the murmured voices of people calling an ambulance. She feels tired and lets herself be lifted onto a stretcher. The virus slithers into a dark corner, unnoticed by all and everyone. It writhes, squirms, silently shrieking. It can feel the pain of a thousand pains – and then nothing. Later it was all over the news: the girl’s friend heard someone shrieking and came to her house – apparently the girl closed the book in fear, and it burst into flames as soon as she let go. Amazingly, the parents were alive – having forgotten all about it. Two months later someone picks up a book – the book – there is a warning, and then silence. Sabine Inglis Year 5