6K's WW1 Narratives

This week in Year 6, we have been drafting our second versions of our WW1 narratives. Below are excerpts from various children's work:

Mya: 

Hector proudly admired his well earned medals. Compare to his fellow soldiers ,he looked amazingly dressed. His eyes glowed and glimmered ,as he lead the trop with bravery.

Hunched with the relief of his near death ,he could hear the disturbing yelling and the ricocheting gun shots. He could also hear the screeches of innocent soles fading away. Squinting at the hope of survivors ,he rammed his food down his hollow tube. On the battlefield ,clouds of gun power cloud through the air and forgotten lungs were swamped around and had already become a death for some.

‘’Can you help me please ? I cant work this bomb ’’ Quivering with a ecoey voice a soldier appeared infront of me . As he peered at the boy infront of Hector took in a quivering form. Although he towered over the boy , he thought he could be as brave as he said he promised himself.

Meekly, the boy blinked through his sleep-instructed eyelashes, as he caught Hectors attention . Marching in the trench the trop gulped a breathe of intoxicating gas and were in too much pandemonium.

Katie:

Cowering in a puddle, Scott heard echoing booms, he could hear the screeches of innocent soldiers and the firing of frightening gun shots. He shivers as he squinted at the hope of team mates. Constant booms struck and destroyed what ever they could see. On the battle field the sky was blood shot red and the left out pieces of shrapnel lingered all around.

“Please, sir, I need to no how to work my gun. ”A intimidating voice caught Scott`s eye .As he marched towards a soles human, he saw that it was poring with blood .Despite the fact that in his opinion he is brave his shoulder’s were quivering with fear.

Connor: 

Pacing impatiently, BANG Dom heard booming bombs dropping from the sky. Dom was worried. Hearing the scraping of metal, Dom said to himself “I believe in us toms. We will beat the Germans!” Approaching a new recruit, he went to exchange tips.  He could see flashing light as soldiers practised sword fighting. Bullets and bombs descended from the sky as the horrible German’s throw them at the British.

“Please private can you assist me?” A timid voice caught Dom’s ears. He glanced at the new recruits uniform, which was squalid,. Although he was the newest recruit, his uniform was impure and he was in pandemonium in addition this told the nameless boy his trench life wouldn’t be easy.

After a while, the recruit’s eyelashes blinked with sleep in them as he bowed his head, catching Dom’s attention. The nameless soldier asked Dom to help him with his large gun because the trigger of his gun was as stiff as concrete.

After moving into place, the new recruit was gone; he didn’t take his stuff. Private Dom barked “right men “as he pivoted around the room and the men listened carefully. He also growled” we are the Toms and we are the best!”

Chanel:

“Let’s go get some jeries ! righted the sergeant , pivoting to his heel.

“we’ll show them war!” bellowed the men.

However, one person was trembling. To the thought of war  . After the ranting, they travelled to battle . Suddenly, a blur of words were thrown at the scared soldier . But who. He thought could be saying these things.

Then what seemed to be an ominous shadow, grabbed him by the arm Viciously . His arm was throbbing with so much tribulation that at some point he wouldn’t be able to bear the pain.

Olivia:

Frantically, Will pulled at his leg, yet every time he did it was reminiscent of hell ripping at his flesh. It was then that he could see two men walking towards him. Hopeless. Will realised his arm was stuck in some barbed wire he could not run from this.Tears of fear trickled down his face. The blood was flowing out of Wills leg in a deadly show of horror. Due to Wills weak body a blanket of heat covered his skin.

Tabitha:

Pacing perpetually to and fro in the trench, Jack collected the sounds of the early morning tumultuous battles; groans and grunts. He could hear the scuttling feet of the lice along the trench walls beside him. He peered over the blood-soaked trench parapet, desperately trying to find the ‘kind German’ like a Where’s Wally page. Intermittent fractals of light shined through the trench off a newly polished gun reflecting on a mud puddle. On the battlefield, broken bullet shells, flecks of bloodstained grass and strips of threadbare uniform flew through the air.

            “Halt!” it had been that exact voice that had come from ‘the kind German’. When he took the first glance at the man before him, his shoulders barely contained in his uniform. Despite his stereo-typical sinewy soldier form his eyes to a wanting for peace and a hatred of war. 

Pandora's Box 5C

This week in 5C we have been writing narratives retelling the story of Pandora's Box. Below is Gabriela's opening: 

Amidst the realm of the almighty and omnipotent Zeus, there lived two unique siblings (Prometheus and Epimetheus). Prometheus, whom Zeus had demanded to create humankind, cherished his humans! However, this infuriated Zeus! “Prometheus, that scoundrel of a titan, has been creating mayhem again! Not only has he insulted me by foolishly fashioning those feeble humans to look like gods, but he has now stolen fire for them from MY Mount Olympus!”  Quivering with rage, an ominous lightning bolt struck the sky…

5E's Pandora's Box Narrative

This week in 5E we have been writing narratives retelling the story of Pandora's Box. Below is Aarthy's narrative:

Startled, Zeus held his head imperviously in his hands. He felt defrauded because of how exasperating Prometheus was to even try to disobey his orders which were not to grant powers to human beings! After all the tears of woe, sorrow and fury Zeus knew there was something he needed to do, something, which would be cunning as a sly fox, arduously Zeus thought…..

Swiftly, Zeus sprinted towards Prometheus and rapidly chained him to a rough rock! As days passed by Epimetheus, (Prometheus’s brother), was told to make a glamorous and stunning girl named Pandora. Several days later, Epimetheus fell in love with Pandora and joyfully got married. Pandora was made with many talents like: being able to cook, sew, sing and dance, however her weakness was curiosity.

Idiosyncratically; on Pandora’s and Epimetheus’s wedding Zeus sympathetically gave an eccentric vast box, which said, “DO NOT OPEN!”. Pondering hard Pandora loathed the dreadful feeling that kept on tugging her to the box. “What’s the point of a present that you can’t use or even open!” Pandora blurted out to Epimetheus.

“We have to follow Zeus’s orders, you remember what ghastly thing he did to Prometheus right!?” Epimetheus requested fustratedly.

“Yeah yeah but it won’t hurt if I take a tiny peek!” Pandora answered whilst rolling her eyes.

1st Person Narrative - 6F

For our writing assessment, we watched an interesting short film about a boy who seemingly can make objects levitate. This was our inspiration for writing a first-person narrative. Melanie tried to draw the reader in with an intriguing opening.


It was my birthday! ... It may be exciting for any other person … but to me, it was my worst nightmare. The curse would strike once again; just as it would do every year. The worst bit was – if people knew about it, it would spread like butter on toast. It would start off with one person…then my whole neighbourhood… then the whole city… and then eventually, the entire world! No doubt scientists would try to use you and if they sensed that you were too dangerous to be around, they could even execute you! If you are under a curse like mine… BEWARE…

Narrative Writing by 5G

This week in Year 5 we have been writing our own narratives based on the story of Marcus, a slave who lived in Pompeii during the 79 A.D. eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Before beginning our narratives, we wrote a letter from Marcus to the new character we had invented. Here is Harry's letter, we hope you enjoy it!

Villa Helius

Via del Corso 

Pompeii

22nd August 79 A.D.

Dear Brutus,

                    I am writing this letter in great haste. We are in grave danger and must escape Pompeii as soon as we can!

Earlier this morning, I was on my way to collect some laundry for my beastly master Festus but I never made it to the laundry house...Something else distracted me entirely! As I stumbled through the bustling streets (as squalid as always) I felt the ground begin to quake beneath my feet! Crash! All of a sudden the statue of Achilles at the entrance to the market began to wobble and I had to dive to avoid being squashed underneath it!

As I staggered to my feet a street vendor loomed over me. He told me that a fearsome beast lives under the monstrous mountain and causes the earth to rumble when it wakes! I was backing away from him when an old beggar lady approached me. She leaned in and murmured,'This world will burn, you need to escape boy!' 

So, we need to escape, I'm not leaving without you! I'll meet you by the servant's entrance at your master's villa, hopefully I'll have a plan by then...

Yours fearfully,

Marcus 

5E's Pompeii Narrative

This week in 5E, we have adapted our narratives from last week's stories to create our own original writing based in Pompeii.

Below is Yeganeh's work. Her current target is to use varied vocabulary. Can you spot which words she upleveled to be more powerful?

The year was 70AD and the streets of Pompeii bustled as if the world was going to end. Shoppers wrestled for bargains while weary, ragged slaves searched for nourishing water. Marcus, a frail fragile young slaveboy, slinked his way through the boiling streets to pick up his spiteful master's laundry. However, the ground began to violently shake and quake. Narrowly avoiding being hit by a marble dedication to Achilles, Marcus tumbled to the cold, hard ground. Shattering stones and crumbling glass scattered around, pounding into Marcus' eats; deafening him for minutes. 

Maybe One Morning - 6R

This week, we watched this video, entitled Maybe One Morning, and wrote a first person narrative about the experience of the character. To further inspire us, we took a walk around the playground to see what the video would have looked like it if had happened at our school. Here is Erisa's fantastic writing - it is so carefully structured at both sentence and text level, and shows clear voice.

I was young then, too young to understand my surroundings. I didn't mean to end up like this, didn't know that this would one day be my destiny. Not this; not now; not then either.

The first time I ever noticed this was on my 13th birthday, whilst I was walking down the street. But I don't know whether I was just oblivious to it or it had just started. It was winter then, with a hint of snow. The streets were unusually cluttered then, sticks, stones, even some mud was spread out in one area.

My ordinary walk that day seemed normal, until I looked behind me. Everything that I had just walked past was floating above me in the sky, in the plain sky. I was flabbergasted at first speechless even. That was until, of course, my mother explained to me what was going on. But even then all that 'magic', that some people call it, didn't entirely make sense. I tried to keep it hidden, locked away. I nearly succeeded, until I lost control of myself - which made me want to use my powers even more.

And it didn't fail either. I kept using my powers, day by day, week by week, and that didn't lead to anything good. As a matter of fact, it led to something worse, way worse.

I told one of my supposed friends about what I am and what I can do. How was a young child like me supposed to know who to tell and who to hide my powers away from? That person told his friends, then it slowly started to spread to all the teachers and parents, and it ended up going to my headteacher.

That was when I ran away, but not alone - oh no, not alone. My mother was just like me, telepathic. According to her, there were only 10 people in the world left who were telepathic. When you're telepathic, people want you. They want to use you for experiments, and that's not okay.

I guess I'll let you decide the rest of my story. One clue I will give you thought: test tubes...

5E's Pompeii Narrative

In 5E we have been writing narratives in the style of our class book, based in Pompeii. Here's is an excerpt from Juvan's writing:

He was dejected. Clutching the wooden, frayed basket of poisonous snakes between his stubborn fingers, Marcus tiptoed towards the leering Lannister and vast gladiators. “Is this worth it?” Marcus whispered isolatedly to himself.

Despite all the knotted twists, the venomous snake hissed at the guard, his magic then excited Tata into ecstatically bolted with freedom. Tata exclaimed: “Quick! Let’s race to the dormant mountain with the abandoned horse!”

“I’ve really missed you!” Wept Marcus as tears dripped down his tender face. Unsteadily, by feeling his wretched father’s arm, covered in ruby red bloodstains and sweaty scars, the duo clambered up the rocky ridge.

Rachel's space narrative from 5E

This week in 5E, we have been creating our own versions of Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Each pupil created their own planet and alien. Below is Rachel's build up, where the elevator arrives at the unknown planet:

Although the elevator was programmed to float, it somehow dropped in time with the erupting screams spreading like an infectious cold, but an even crueller flu, which made Charlie deflate like a balloon. 

"Help!" Grandma Georgina screamed. How much worse could it get?

When Charlie reluctantly opened his heavy eyelids, he notcied he was covered in shattered glass, and was laying on a flat, ivory ground, trembling with fear. He moved his head, lookig at a dark, liquid blue sky. 

"Diiing!" Something screeched, and Charlie saw the most astounding thing in his life. He was frightened and amazed, his heart pounding.

5G's Narrative Writing Inspired by Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator

This week we have used the original story of Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator to inspire us to write our own versions of the text. Instead of landing on the Space Hotel and meeting the Knids, we have created our own planets and aliens and told our own adventure story! This is an extract from Kristian's narrative.

'Where are we?!' cried Grandma Josephine.
'Now look what you've done,' Mr Wonka retorted, 'We're in space!'
Charlie stared out of the window at the vast blackness of the sky. It was an extraordinary sight, there were stars everywhere and the planets seemed to line up from biggest to smallest. 

An hour later, they saw a planet which did not appear on the charts of the Solar System. No one had ever seen it before. 
'Where are we? What is this planet?' Charlie asked Mr Wonka.
'I don't know,' he replied. As it turns out, it was the planet Brazian. They landed on its strange surface and began to explore. There were curious trees of fire and volcanoes rose up from the ground like great furnaces of light and heat. Fire dripped down their sides. At the bottom of a valley lay a fiery ocean of boiling water, if they had stepped in it, they would have been burnt!

'We've discovered a new planet!' Mr Wonka gasped, staring around in wonder at the sight spread out before them. 

100 Word Challenge - 6F

This week 6F have uploaded Jason's 100 Word Challenege. This week's challenge was to finish a short story based on a video clip about the evil Lord Nulth. Jason had to create an interesting and exciting ending in 100 words.

As he opened the sack of sorrow, a ghastly talking creature jumped out! The dreaded Shrangutan; it was over for Lord Nulth. Shouting and crying, the beast was loose, despite usually being in his cage! It was the malevolent Lord Nulth who turned him into this abomination. Part shark, part orangutan, with teeth as sharp as skewers.

 “We meet again… It’s so nice to see you!” Lord Nulth screeched sarcastically.  

“Stop being so arrogant!” All of a sudden, the Shrangutan had leapt into mid-air and stuck his stone claws into Lord Nulth.

“Is it over?” one of the minions, standing to one side, thought aloud. Suddenly, Lord Nulth disappeared with a cloud of smoke. BOOM… It was. For now…

5E's Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator Narrative

This week in Year 5 we have been continuing our journey in space through the eyes of Roald Dahl. We have rewritten the opening of Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator.

Below is Katie's narrative, which is describing the moment when Charlie entered the Space Hotel:

They were feeling anxious and worried; nervous that just ahead of them they could see the mammoth Space Hotel shaped like a diamond. Carefully, Grandpa Joe attached their shimmering glass elevator to the humongous Space Hotel. Suddenly, inside the hotel - FLASH! - down like a lightening bolt, the Knids appeared.

Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator - Narrative Writing by 5G

This week in Year 5 we have been re-telling the story of Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Here is an extract from our shared writing as a class. We hope you enjoy it!

Charlie Bucket was an ordinary boy to whom the most extraordinary things happened. Mere hours after being told he was to inherit Willy Wonka's legendary chocolate factory; he found himself hurtling through the skies in an elevator to collect his family, accompanied by none other than Mr Wonka himself. It was an exhilarating ride!

They landed with a bump in the living room of Charlie's tiny, bedraggled house to be greeted by the astonished stares of Charlie's parents and three, bed-ridden grandparents.
'I have the most unbelievably amazing news' he exclaimed as he exited the elevator excitedly. 
'Spit it out then', replied Grandma Georgina rudely.
'We are all going to live in Mr Wonka's factory, he says I am going to take over from him one day!' 
A beatific beam spread across his face as he spoke.

Unsurprisingly, this announcement was greeted by a great deal of joy and excitement, followed by a rather heated debate about how, exactly, the bed-ridden grandparents were to be transported to said factory. After eventually agreeing that the enormous, unweildy bed could be squashed into the elevator, they set off. They had not got very far however, when Grandma Georgina began to panic in a most obnoxious way.

'This man is cracked! He's as crazy as a teapot, as loopy as a broomstick!' she shrieked as the elevator rose higher and higher into the brilliant, azure sky. The sun was winking off the glass walls of the elevator as they ascended, and even Charlie and Grandpa Joe began to feel a little concerned...

6F WW1 Narrative Writing

Here's a bumper upload from 6F for half-term. We have been combining our character description techniques, as well as our atmospheric writing techniques, to write WW1 based narratives. These are excerpts from Rosieanne's, Sophia's and Hilary's.


Rosieanne's:


Lit by the flare, the sky was awoken with a bang. It was show-time. Flares jumped, grenades exploded.

“Time to go, Young!” Andrew shouted.

“Come line up! Sergeant is waiting for ya.” Tick tock - the time had come.

“Ready boys… 3, 2, 1!” Sergeant barked, blowing his whistle.

Suddenly, a grenade exploded. His blistered fingers felt the soaked wood of the ladder. He gave a nod to his fellow soldier. They were off. The sight of the quagmire was overwhelming. He wanted to run, even hide, but he couldn’t. BANG! The screeches of the shells were horrific. He scrambled behind a blackened tree, wishing that he’d never joined. So much was going through his mind; his mother, his sister’s 15^th birthday, he was going to miss his sister’s wedding. He was definitely going to die, and that was undeniable.

WHOOSH! A flare lit up the sky again. The darkened sky had turned to light. They had been seen…

Sophia's:

SCREECH! Suddenly, a flare leapt into the inky night, shining a torch over her; filling the dead sky and becoming its blood. It whistled. Then fell to the wet, squalid ground. Lucy stared out into the dark, gloomy scene. “It’s a massacre!” she screamed, “We’ll be busy today!”

Petrified, she tip-toed out of the tent looking for people that needed her help. Suddenly, she felt something, or someone, grab her muddy leg. It was an Englishman. His wound was pouring blood, staining the mud. It was like the earth was bleeding itself. A bullet was stuck in his rib-cage and she could not help him nor bring him back to the trench hospital. “What is your name?” the boy asked.

“Lucy, nurse Lucy. Why?”

“You saved my brother Tomas Chester. I’m Lincoln Chester.”

Hilary's


Gazing down, the flare painted the sky orange.

“Go! We have to go now!” the Sergeant boomed, “Hurry!” They all stood to attention. The flare went up again. There was nothing they could do. Rain tapped on the men’s shoulders and meandered into their boots. Frantically, they heaved themselves up the ladders. It was time…

Petrified, Luke stood there amidst the carnage. Blood everywhere. Bile rose and threatened to explode from his mouth. Blood gushing from people’s heads, so abhorrent it looked like the sodden quagmire was bleeding itself.

6B Narrative Writing

This week in 6B we completed our own short narrative about a soldier in WW1. Our narrative has three sections: the calm beginning, the change point and the action. Read our example and see if you can pick out these pivotal moments in the text.


 There was a full moon, the brightest he had ever seen. The barrel of Paul's Bolt-Action riffle glistened. He was thinking, as he always did, whilst the other soldiers chatted. Feeling cramped because he only just managed to fit in the communications trench, he began to write home. Sucking the end of his pen, he talked gibberish to a general expelling froth as he opened his mouth. His scruffy hair limited his vision and this annoyed him. He thought war would be fun, what it was like on the 'Your Country Needs You' posters. He didn't know about the shells, the grenades or the flares.


Silently creeping, he ventured out to the front line. Soldiers each found a place on a firing step. Paul rested his round face onto the trench wall, closed his medium eyes and big mouth. Suddenly roars went overhead. Paul saw shells, squadrons upon squadrons of them. Paul realised that if there were shells up ahead then there was danger too. The Germans were coming...


Everybody loaded their guns for the worst battle yet. There was the first wave of the bayonets, but worst of all... a grenade had been thrown into the saturated trench.
"Take cover lads!" a gruff voice yelled. The grenade exploded. Everything fell silent. An object fell on Paul's shoulder, it was cold. He looked on his shoulder. It was a hand, a cold, wet severed hand. He looked behind him and there were debris and equipment everywhere.


His comrades were dead and the German snipers were approaching with their tactical weapons and beady eyes. Paul heard shuddering. Only the machine gunner survived. It was down to him and Paul...


By Eric, 6B

Character description in 6F

This week in 6F we have been looking at character description. We wrote descriptive passages looking to invert Roald Dahl's description of the powerful and intimidating Miss Trunchbull. Here is our shared writing:


He was above it all a meek and mild-mannered man. He had once been an eminent scientist, and even now the pallor of his skin and squinty eyes betrayed his previous employment.
Although his slender arms, nervous gait and pencil-like neck made him appear to be rather pathetic, he had earned a jot of authority amongst his community of scientists.

Street Child adaption

This week in Literacy, Year 5 have been adapting Street Child to create our own Victorian stories. Below is Mubarak's beginning. What will happen next?

Without hesitation, Jake, who was ravenous, darted like an arrow, after jumping up to his feet. Because he was exceptionally destitute, he had to steal. Being young, he didn’t know what was right. A waft of freshly-baked, mouth-watering pastries filled the air, drifting into his nose. He was wild with hunger. It had been days. Now everything seemed delicious to him. Inconspicuously, he dashed swiftly, finding himself surrounded by scrumptious breads. Would he be able to grab one? Thinking unclearly, he did. Nothing happened. Suddenly, the door burst open and the bread danced in his hands. Petrified, he knew his future was doomed. It was the workhouse for him.

During several soul destroying days at the treacherous workhouse, Jake realised it really was hell on earth. Being whipped by the remorselessly cruel teachers became a daily habit. Every whip was like lightning striking Jake’s feeble body. Unimaginable, excruciating pain filled his bones. Did the teachers actually expect him to work in these barbaric conditions?.....

Original Victorian Story from Daneel in 5E

This week in Literacy, Year 5 have been adapting Street Child to create our own Victorian stories. Below is Daneel's beginning. What will happen next? How will he feel in the workhouse?

On one desolate day, Didbia Prosper, who was lingering near a famous footbal shop, and was looking at an significant ball which cost 20 pounds, instead of trying to buy the ball, he actually stole it! Although it was very expensive, it was an artificial ball. 

At the end of the day, Didbia traipsed home with the ball. Then, he had suddenly discovered that his ma had died! His dad was finding it incredibly hard to look after him and his son. Would they cope for long? Before long, time had gone by and the time was: 20:00! 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, a policeman arrived at their tattered house. He announced to Didbia and his father: “I have been stooped by an old man, who told me that he had seen a mysterious boy holding a blue ball." The policeman pointed his finger of suspicion at Dibbia. "I know it was you! Come on, we‘re going to the workhouse to so that you can pay for what you have DONE! If you do not go, there will be serious consequences!" 

More atmospheric writing from 6F!

As a development of our atmospheric writing we did last week, we have been looking at using a particularly sophisticated passage of narrative from Sebastian Faulks' Birdsong. This was our good example to inspire this week's writing. Have a look at Matthew's first paragraph below:


Listlessly, he lay imprisoned underneath the slimy tunnel  floor beneath no-man’s-land, and still he was not gone! He could taste the damp soil and feel it in his weary eyes and nose. There was an ominous pressure on his chest. He tried to move but found himself motionless, as though the sullen Earth had wrapped him in bulky, uncomfortable blankets and was encouraging him to sleep. The noise of a deafening explosion seemed to echo in the slender tube. He pictured his way back blocked by damp soil, and a flicker of trepidation rose in his stomach, but then died again beneath the mass of his pinioned state. The imprisoned sound eventually diminished...

Street Child Narrative

In Year 5 we have adapted Street Child slightly to create our own original version. From 5E, here is Yeganeh's start of her story. Can you see what aspect she has changed?

Unfortunate, infant Jim Jarvis was using the last of his energy to purchase a marvellous, attractive meat pie with his last shilling. Rambling amongst the crowd, he was trying not to touch the delicious morsel until arriving home.

Ma tenderly lay on the rough, pathetic bed like a broken twig. Her pale glow drowns in the blacked out room. Emily, terrified with fear of her mother's impending death, approached her mother. Louise, petrified of dying in starvation, her face lit up as soon as she witnessed the odour of the meat pie wafting through the formidable door.

Jim, Emily and Louise greedily scoffed their meat pie down to stop guilt gulping up the three of them. A trio of crumbles were left on the floor for the next morning. All hope was shattered. Their shillings were now extinct, like dinosaurs. What will happen to them next?

Sun shines outside yet neither Jim nor Louise nor Emily were awoken by it due to the fact that their room was heavily blacked out. Ma woke to the rustlings of street children outside. "Will I one day be living outside amongst them?" Jim wondered to himself.

Silently, the doorknob turned. Outside was a vexed person, who was known as Mr Spink, the house owner, standing as still as a stick. 

"Time's up!" Screeched the ogre. He waited. He picked up the purse. "It was an honest rent. It was only one shilling!".

A few seconds later, Jim found himself telling the truth. 

"Save it, sonny! Out with you all. NOW!". Mr Spink wandered around and picked up Louise's boots and threw them out. 

Petrified about their troubled and uncertain future, the children's heavily fatigued mother led the desolate way towards the land of her second to last hope: Rosie's house. As soon as the door opened, Rosie was filled with joy.

"Long time no see!".