Friday, 9 November 2012

Alma



ALMA
Without a care in the world, a small girl skipped  through the narrow cobblestone alleyway. Alma had been told to write her name on the town blackboard. When you are 9 years old you have to write your name on this blackboard. It was a traditional thing in this village. Alma wrote on the blackboard. A..L..M..A.. Hearing an old machine working behind her, she turned around in surprise. She saw a doll that looked exactly like her.

Staring at the doll, Alma wiped the frost that had gathered on the shop window to get a better view of the doll. The doll disappeared silently. She crept over to the door. Alma thrust her hand out and pulled down the handle. It was locked. Angrily she walked away and grabbed a snowball and threw it to the door.

Walking away from the shop, suddenly the door followed open. Alma turned around with excitement, and ran to the door. Taking a step in the shop, Alma looked around. Everything looked so threadbare. Looking around, Alma saw the doll on a table. Peering at the identical looking doll, she stumbled towards it, one step at a time.

Suddenly, she heard something. Alma looked down, and saw a little toy on the floor. It was a boy pedaling a tricycle. Alma put the bike upright, and it cycled circles around her, then over to the door. BANG! It closed just in front of him. The boy kept on cycling forwards, slamming into the door over and over again. He looked as if ….....

Alma looked around, and wondered where the doll went again. It had disappeared. She then saw it again, on the shelf next to other dolls. Climbing the sofa underneath her, Alma was ignorant of everything but the doll that looked like her. As she was reaching up for the doll, all the other dolls moved their eyes and followed her. But Alma didn’t notice anything.

When Alma’s hand touched the doll, there was a ZAP!! Her whole life flashed before her eyes. Alma looked around. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t smile. She couldn’t do ANYthing but look around and breathe, which became heavy. Then everything made sense. The boy on the bike (which was still slamming into the door over and over again) WAS trying to escape, and all the other dolls were trying to warn her, but they could only look around.

In horror, Alma saw the next doll wheel up..... The End
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