Published writing

Emily was alive (not really, she’s a ghost), she was happy, she was also very very scared. Of the man in the doorway, who she told me was Henry Lawson. “Henry Lawson?” I stare at Emily in disbelief, “But didn’t he die 100 years ago?” Emily nodded, “Yes, he did. I’m confused too. But that doesn’t matter, I just want to find out why he’s looking for me, and why he’s so desperate to find me. Why is he travelling into human minds to make them look for me? I want to know.” “And you want me to find out and stop him, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. If you don’t mind.” “I don’t. But there is one teensy problem” I said, remembering the look of recognition on Henry Lawson’s face when he saw me. “What is that?” “Well, I’ve seen him.” “What?! Hillary! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Emily hopped from her seat clearly worried. “Well, until you gave the description, I didn’t know who he was. And he sorta, kinda, maybe recognised me.” Emily’s face was pale, really pale, seeing that she was a ghost. “No. No. No. No. No. This can’t - just no.” Then she took a big deep breath, but didn’t breath in any air, “Ok. Hillary, don’t worry. He doesn’t know you so he shouldn’t recognise you. So don’t worry. Just find out what he wants ok. And be safe.” I nodded, “I will.” Then I left and David Scott Mitchell led me down two other hallways to a door painted mustard yellow with the letters H.Y written in gold writing on it. My initials. “Excuse me, Mr Mitchell, I was just wondering why -” “Your initials are on this door?” David Scott Mitchel finished my question, “Also, Miss Hillary, I prefer to be called Dave, or Scotty, that’s what my friends call me.” “I’m your friend?” I couldn’t believe this, I was friends with a famous person. “Yes. Any friend of Emily’s is a friend of mine.” “Why do you care for Emily so much?” “Well, she reminds me of a woman I once loved, Emily Matilda. And she was so lonely here, so I told her I’d be her father, so she'd have family with her.” Tears welled up in my eyes, “Thankyou.” I said, half-crying, then I hugged him. “Thank you, Dave.” ****** I set off to find Henry Lawson half an hour later. Dave said he was happy to come but I told him that he had to stay with Emily. I completely regretted that just after the door in the wall closed, wishing I had someone with me. Henry Lawson was creepy, and I barely knew my way around the state library. Before I left Emily told me to search the stacks, which she presumed was where Henry Lawson hid when he wasn’t roaming the halls. She also told me quite a bit about resurrected humans. Like how they can’t eat or drink, or read, they have no knowledge whatsoever. Which means they are being controlled by someone else. But who? I walk down stairs, following the map Dave had drawn for me. Until I reached the first level of the stacks. Shelves and shelves full of millions of year old objects. A few had labels. And two were just labels, at first I thought the labels were the old object, then I read them and realised what the labels said. Henry Lawson Death Mask Henry Lawson Hand Cast Whoever had resurrected Henry Lawson must have taken these to do so. I went down to the next level, then the next. This one had quite a few ancient books on the shelves so I took my time, examining each one carefully, trying my best not to sniff them, because the smell of old books is mesmerizing. I turned the corner. Then I froze. The figure sitting on the desk a few feet away from me ran, dropping everything in their hands. Then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Magic. I neared the desk. On it was a teacup, with still-warm tea inside. It was white with little pictures of waratahs on it, it looked so familiar. And the other object, a newspaper dated on the 8th of May 2018. Who would want to read a newspaper from that long ago. I scanned the front page for any sign of interesting news when I saw Emily’s name. This wasn’t just any newspaper, this was the newspaper from the day she was pushed. The day journalist Thalia Glasshouse interviewed us, and the day we left. Leaving every memory of Emily in New South Wales. Then I read. Thalia made everything so sad and realistic, it felt like I was reliving that day. CRASH! I jumped, and I screamed. It was the creepy guy, Henry Lawson, I knew it was. I began thinking that I would never make it back to Melbourne. I turned slowly, bracing myself for the blood-red eyes of Henry Lawson. But I only saw a ghost. Not a human ghost though, it was the ghost of a cat.

So many questions swirled around in my head as I stared at the ghost. How did he know I was coming? How did he know my name? Who is he? I thought ghosts weren’t real Mum, how do you explain this? And why does he look so familiar? Luckily for me, all my questions were answered in one sentence, “Sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m David Scott Mitchell, I am the founder of this library and I’ve been sent to find you by the orders of Emily York, who I believe is your sister.” Annoyingly, his answers made new questions pop into my head, so I decided to ask the first question that came to my mind, “Why are you alive?” “I would consider that rude, but you have never seen a ghost before, so you ---” What he just said made my jaw drop, so I couldn’t wait any longer, I did the unbearable, unspeakable, I interrupted, “You're a ghost?!” Interrupting had always been a big no, no in my family, we had been taught to be patient and to wait, we’d been told it was rude, very rude. But, with all that worrying about what Mum would say if she knew, I forgot about another rule I had just broken. “Shhhhhhhhh! This is a library!” David Scott Mitchel shouted, breaking the rule he’d just called me out on for breaking. “Sorry. Wait, what about Emily, is she a ghost, too?” He nodded. “Can I see her?” He nodded and walked. “Wait! Come back here, where are you going?!” David Scott Mitchell kept walking, I couldn’t believe it, he didn’t even care that I’d just shouted in a library. So, even though I should have known better than to follow a ghost I had only just met through a library that I hadn’t been in for four years in the middle of the night, I followed him. And so, we walked, and walked some more, and walked a bit more and --- Something flashed at the corner of my eyes. In the doorway was a man, tall, wrinkled and pale, but not as pale as the ghost that was walking in front of me. I could tell the doorway man was searching for something, I could tell, by the way his face was tilted, and the way his eyes widened as he saw me, his eyes blood red, veins pulsing rapidly, I knew what had just happened, he recognised me. I ran. I ran fast, sprinted down ten different hallways, then I stopped. And David Scott Mitchell was standing right beside me. “This way,” he said. We walked into the galleries, where artworks hung on walls, then we stopped. I was very determined to get as far away as possible from that, what’d you call it, thing, as possible, “Come on. Why have we stopped?” Then I saw. A door had opened, like a bit of the wall had just cracked and swung open, it was a very confusing sight. “Come.” David Scott Mitchell said. Then he disappeared through the door, and very soon afterward, I did too. Inside was a hallway, a big giant hallway, that seemed to stretch on forever. SLAM! I jumped. And quickly turned around, nothing was there, it was only the door closing. I continued to follow David Scott Mitchell through the hallway, and then down another. This time it was bigger, with colourful doors on either side, ghosts walking in and out, nodding “hello” to David Scott Mitchell as they passed, not taking any notice of me. “Stay here.” We were standing outside of a sage green door, with the letters E.L written in gold writing. David Scott Mitchell was gone, I guessed he was in the room. So I waited, and waited then I listened, because I was very good at listening through doors. I heard voices, two, David Scott Mitchell’s and someone else's, someone young. “Yes, miss.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright, I’m ready to see her.” And with that, footsteps sounded, I pulled away from the door. It opened, and David Scott Mitchell came out, “She’s ready to see you.” He held the door open for me to step in, and I did, very, very nervously. “Hillary!” The girl in the seat jumped up in joy. She was about eight, wide eyes and hair in pigtails. For a second I didn’t know her, she was just another ghost, a kid ghost, but still a ghost, and then I saw her. Saw her jumping over the waves at the beach, choosing a birthday present for Mum, choosing a fish at the pet shop. This wasn’t just a ghost, this was Emily, the girl who didn’t deserve to die that day, the girl I called my sister.

New South Wales. I hadn’t been here for four years, ever since “The Fall”. Ever since I took an oath to never come back to this place. At that time I thought it would be impossible to get from Melbourne to Sydney all by myself. But now as I stand here, 878km away from home. I wonder how I did it. How I found the courage to break the oath and take one train and five buses to get here. If Mum was here she’d ground me for eternity, but she’d also ask me why. And the answer I will give you now. Someone had called me. But I do not know who. Why me? Why now? Why here? Unless … No. It couldn’t possibly be. I refused to believe it. She was dead, and only someone alive could’ve called me here.. I shook my head. And lifted my chin. Whoever had called me, I would face whatever had called me and then I’d return. I tiptoed up the steps, falling once when I wasn’t paying attention. Then I reached the doors. They were open. I pushed them open an inch wider and squeezed in. In my mind I had imagined someone to be waiting for me. Turns out I was wrong. The library was empty. I crept in further, taking in the scene in front of me. The marble map of the world on the floor, the marble and glass case with an ancient banner. And the balcony, I shuddered, memories flooding my eyes. Maggie noticing the map for the first time. The man creeping up behind her. Then Maggie screaming as she fell. Then silence. The memories in my eyes became tears. But I wiped them away. I wasn’t here to remember. I was here to find the person who called me, then leave. I walked ahead. Into the doors of the reading room. Where, even in the silent night, everything in that room was screaming for me to leave, to go home. But I continued walking, until someone coughed. I froze. I was 99% sure that no one else was in the library except me. I turned slowly, quickly coming up with excuses in my head for why I was in the state library in the middle of the night. Then I screamed. Because there, right in front of me was a ghost. “We’ve been waiting for you, Hillary.”

It was the 2nd of August when Kitty met the witch. It was Kitty’s birthday and it would probably be her most miserable birthday yet, as she was now an orphan and had no family to celebrate with. And no one at the orphanage would be kind enough to make a cake for her. She woke up that morning, excited that her birthday was here. She ran down the stairs and into the orphanage kitchens where she was greeted by a very angry cook. “What do you think you're doing here, young lady?” Kitty stared up at her, ignoring what she said and walked searching for something. The cook grabbed her by the arm, and gripped, “You are forbidden in these kitchens young lady, and what on earth are you looking for!?!!!!” Kitty turned, realising what mistakes she’d made, “I’m sorry, it’s my birthday and I thought Mama was down here, she always is in the kitchens on my birthday. I’m turning twelve. But, oh!! I’m not at home, am I?” The cook replied angrily, “No!” then through her out the servants door onto the street, “Happy Birthday!” And Kitty was alone, with two grazed knees. And that’s when she spotted the house, old, grey and haunted looking. Kitty grinned, forgetting her sorrows. She trotted across the road and opened the door, it creaked. And a loud voice echoed through the house. “Who goes there?!” “I do!” replied Kitty bravely, “and I’m not afraid!” Kitty moved further into the house and sat by the crackling fire. She began breathing again as she relaxed into the warmth. “BOO!” A voice from behind her cried. Kitty screamed with fear. And a figure came out from behind the chair, a girl, about her height, with ebony-black hair and eyes and the palest skin. The girl quite reminded Kitty of Snow White. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid.” The girl teased, then put out a hand, “I’m Olive, and you’re Kitty, I presume.” “Yes, but how do you know that?” Kitty asked, stepping farther away from this girl. “I’m a witch.” The girl said. Kitty screamed again. And the witch just laughed. “Do you like adventure?” Kitty nodded weakly. She loved adventure. The witch smiled, “Alright then, pack your bags and come back tomorrow.” Kitty returned the next day, the day she set out on her adventure. She knocked three times on Olive’s door, everyone staring at her with great confusion as they passed, they obviously all believed that the house was abandoned. After about 6 more knocks and ten trillion more confused looks, Kitty began to become impatient. The witch had told her never to enter the house again without permission or else, and she didn’t want to know what “or else” was. “Olive!” She hissed through the keyhole, “People are staring!” No one responded. Kitty shrank into the corner, hoping that sometime soon Olive would open the door and let her in. Then, 10 minutes later, an old woman stumbled through the crowd. She walked up to the door, then, noticing Kitty moping in the corner, “Come in.” Kitty was startled, Olive had never mentioned anything about someone else living in the house. Yet the woman looked quite a bit like her, so Kitty thought that she must be her grandmother. She nodded and followed the old woman in. “You know, it’s quite funny how Olive never told me about having a grandmother living with her.” Kitty said as she sat down by the crackling fire. The old woman looked quite offended, and as she shouted her reply, she became younger, “I have no such Grandmother, why on Earth would you think that!” Suddenly instead of a wrinkly old woman standing in front of her, the witch, Olive stood there completely utterly horrified. “Oh! It was you!” Kitty exclaimed, clearly shocked. “Alright, Katie, or - whatever your name is, I don’t really care,” Then Olive took out what looked like an old stick and waved it about. “My name’s Kitty. Is that a wand?!” Kitty asked, would she actually get to see a real witch using a real magic wand. But instead of seeing magic sparks come out of the wand, all she saw was Olive laughing her heart out. The witch was rolling on the floor by the time she could speak again, “You think this is a wand! Oh my, what things humans come up with! Witches don’t use wands, Silly!” Kitty stared at Olive in disbelief, if there was no such thing as wands, then what was the thing she was holding in her hand. “Then what’s that then!” Kitty shouted pointing at the stick. Olive laughed again, “It’s just a stick I found on the way here.” Kitty nodded. Then Olive spoke again, “Alright so you're going on a mission for me, right? And what mission was that? Oh, yes! This will be fun. Here’s a bag, here's food and here's a warm jumper. Alright, Bye, Have fun!” The witch pushed Kitty out the door. It was almost closed when Kitty turned around, “Wait! Where am I meant to be going!!” Olive’s face poked out the door, and the witch handed her a yellow train ticket, “North!” Then she was gone. Gone. Without even saying a word about what she was meant to be doing, and how on Earth would Kitty be able to know which way was north. Kitty trudged back to the orphanage, she couldn’t go on this adventure if she didn’t know what she was doing. But then Olive would probably turn her into a frog of something. She had to do it, she had to. She thanked the train driver and stepped into the train station. Now all she needed to do was to go North. Kitty thought for a moment, all she had was a magnet from the train, a jumper and food. And none of those could help her, they were all useless objects, or were they. Then a memory blossomed in Kitty’s mind, “The Magnet!” she cried, to no one in particular. Magnets, She thought, They always point to which way is north. It was a scientific breakthrough, well, for Kitty at least. She’d never paid attention to anything her science teacher had told her when she went to school, and back then she never thought that it would help her, well, it did. “Thank you, Mr Spencer, I’m sorry I never really paid attention to anything in science.” Kitty whispered under her breath. Then Kitty placed the magnet on the concrete train station, it turned several times, trying to figure out which way was North. Then it stopped, and Kitty stood up, staring in the direction that the magnet was pointing at, and this is what she saw: Snow, white, cold, empty snow. There were mountains too, tall, white, lonely mountains, “No,” She said to herself in disbelief, “No, Olive can’t have thought me to go there, just No.” Kitty turned and headed back to where the train had dropped her off. But there was no train to be seen. She staggered over to the bench and lay there, crying her heart out, “Mama! Papa!” she cried, but her dead parents couldn’t help her now. After a while, Kitty was sleeping soundly, dreaming of her old life, where she was happy. She slept through the night, through the rain and snow, through the train arriving, through the loud sobs of a child. She only woke when the child's tears stopped. She sat up, and wiped her own tears away, and there sitting on the edge of the concrete dangling their legs over the edge was a small girl, with dark-blonde hair and a small suitcase. “H-hello?” Kitty stuttered, nearing the little girl. “H-hi.” The girl stuttered back, turning to face Kitty, her piercing blue eyes full of sorrow. “What is your name? Mine’s Kitty.” Kitty asked, sitting down next to the girl. The girl turned to look at Kitty once again, “M-my name is Jana” “Why are you here? Where are your parents?” Kitty asked, looking around searching for Jana’s family. Jana’s eyes began to flood and she leaned into Kitty, burying her face in Kitty’s cardigan, “I don’t have parents, they died 2 years ago. I’ve been hiding out behind a bakery for years, but the baker found me and sent me here!” Jana cried, sobbing loudly into Kitty’s cardigan. “There, there, it’s alright, you can stay with me, but - but first I have to complete a mission. Would you like to come with me?” Kitty put her arms around the child, hoping to comfort her. Jana’s little head nodded, “Will you be my Mama?” she asked hopefully. Kitty smiled and nodded back. “Let’s go.” And the two girls stepped into the crackly snow. The two had talked all day, Jana was quite the talker, she told Kitty about her pets and her humongous family tree. Until the sun began to set and Kitty had to stop her, “Jana, why don’t we find a place to stay tonight, Yes?” Jana nodded. Then pointed at the closest mountain and happily said, “Can we sleep there?” Kitty almost fainted when she saw the cave. What if there was a bear in there, or bat’s, anything would be better than bats, but she had to agree, there were no other caves anywhere nearby. “Can you climb?” Kitty asked, looking down at the 7-year old. She nodded. And they began to climb, slipping at any movement they made, but finally they reached the cave, and lucky for them, it was bear free. Kitty laid out the soft blanket she’d taken from the orphanage, and the thin pillow. Then she searched around for sticks and once they’d been found, she lit a fire, as her dad had taught her when she was five. Then she took out the food. One cheese and jam sandwich, Kitty ripped it in half and gave the bigger half to Jana. They both ate hungrily and then they tucked themselves into bed while Jana sang one of her favorite lullabies, “Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening, Steal across the sky. Now the darkness gathers, Stars begins to peep, Birds and beasts and flowers Soon will be asleep.” Jana didn’t wake the next morning, her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead was literally on fire. “Jana,” Kitty shook her, “Jana, please wake up.” Tears rolled down Kitty’s face, “Jana, please.” Jana’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open, “K-kitty. I-I want t-to go home.” Kitty smiled, and sighed with relief, tears in her eyes, “Oh, Jana.” Jana slept half that day, when she spoke her voice was a whisper, but she would get better, at least that was what Kitty told herself. Jana needed warmth to get better, but the sticks and twigs were running out and there was nothing to block the icy wind from venturing into the cave. Jana wasn’t getting better. Kitty stayed though, she had to, she couldn’t leave a sick seven-year-old all alone in a white mountainous nowhere. She had to stay, she had to betray the witch. And she would never forgive herself. That night as Jana slept soundly on the stone ground of the cave, Kitty sent a letter to Olive in her mind, Dear Olive, I am sorry. But I cannot go on. Jana has fallen ill and she certainly can’t continue, I know I have to continue, but Jana needs me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I will return to the orphanage and will not bother you any more. From Kitty Then she slept, dreaming about the horrid punishment she’d get when she returned, if she ever returned. The next morning, Olive woke, she’d received a letter that night in her sleep, one from Kitty, the girl she’d sent on her mission, the mission to find her sister, who was trapped somewhere in this world, hidden by a family, her sister, Jana. “Jana!” She exclaimed, “She’s alive! Oh, Kitty thankyou!” But Kitty couldn’t hear her, as she was shivering in a cave 10,000 miles away. Jana didn’t wake. Her eyes were frozen shut, her breath was shallow, she was cold. Kitty had nothing. She couldn’t make a fire, there was nothing to burn, nothing at all. She had already lost her backpack in the flames, her shoes and cardigan, she was freezing. “Jana, I’m sorry.” She whispered, her throat stinging from the icy cold. Jana shook her head, but her eyes didn’t open, she had no energy to open them. Kitty began talking, “The truth is, Jana. I don’t know what I’m meant to be doing. I mean, Olive never told me, she just said to go north.” She was interrupted by a hoarse squeaky voice, “Olive.” it whispered. “Yeah, she’s a witch. I failed though, so she’s probably gonna turn me into a frog when I return.” “Olive.” Jana said again, “My big sister.” Kitty froze in shock and coldness, “What!!!” She thought for ten seconds, if Olive was Jana’s sister, and Olive was a witch, Jana could save them. But why hadn’t she yet. “You’re a witch.” Jana shook her head tiredly, “No. She took magic. Killed Ma and Pa. She's evil.” Kitty stayed frozen in the corner, for two reasons, one, she had trusted a witch, a witch that had killed her own parents, a witch that had taken her sisters magic, a witch who definitely couldn’t be trusted, two, she couldn't move. “We’re not going home.” Kitty coughed, and fell to the floor. Jana opened her icy eyes, “Kitty,” She whispered hoarsely, “Thank you.” Then she was gone. A tear dripped down Kitty’s cheek, it froze against her. “Your Welcome.” She coughed again, then everything disappeared, the cave, the orphanage, Olive, her life. She was gone, following Jana to the end.

She thanked the train driver and stepped into the train station. Now all she needed to do was to go North. Kitty thought for a moment, all she had was a magnet from the train, a jumper and food. And none of those could help her, they were all useless objects, or were they. Then a memory blossomed in Kitty’s mind, “The Magnet!” she cried, to no one in particular. Magnets, She thought, They always point to which way is north. It was a scientific breakthrough, well, for Kitty at least. She’d never paid attention to anything her science teacher had told her when she went to school, and back then she never thought that it would help her, well, it did. “Thank you, Mr Spencer, I’m sorry I never really paid attention to anything in science.” Kitty whispered under her breath. Then Kitty placed the magnet on the concrete train station, it turned several times, trying to figure out which way was North. Then it stopped, and Kitty stood up, staring in the direction that the magnet was pointing at, and this is what she saw: Snow, white, cold, empty snow. There were mountains too, tall, white, lonely mountains, “No,” She said to herself in disbelief, “No, Olive can’t have thought me to go there, just No.” Kitty turned and headed back to where the train had dropped her off. But there was no train to be seen. She staggered over to the bench and lay there, crying her heart out, “Mama! Papa!” she cried, but her dead parents couldn’t help her now. After a while, Kitty was sleeping soundly, dreaming of her old life, where she was happy. She slept through the night, through the rain and snow, through the train arriving, through the loud sobs of a child. She only woke when the child's tears stopped. She sat up, and wiped her own tears away, and there sitting on the edge of the concrete dangling their legs over the edge was a small girl, with dark-blonde hair and a small suitcase. “H-hello?” Kitty stuttered, nearing the little girl. “H-hi.” The girl stuttered back, turning to face Kitty, her piercing blue eyes full of sorrow. “What is your name? Mine’s Kitty.” Kitty asked, sitting down next to the girl. The girl turned to look at Kitty once again, “M-my name is Jana (Pronounced Yana)” “Why are you here? Where are your parents?” Kitty asked, looking around searching for Jana’s family. Jana’s eyes began to flood and she leaned into Kitty, burying her face in Kitty’s cardigan, “They hate me, they said I had to be a good girl so they sent me here and laughed and said, “Let’s see this spoiled rat try to survive out there”, but I have been a good girl, I was playing and I broke the telly and then - and then they didn’t even come with me!!!” Jana cried, sobbing loudly into Kitty’s cardigan. “There, there, it’s alright, you can stay with me, but - but first I have to complete a mission. Would you like to come with me?” Kitty put her arms around the child, hoping to comfort her. Jana’s little head nodded, “Will you be my Mama?” she asked hopefully. Kitty smiled and nodded back. “Let’s go.” And the two girls stepped into the crackly snow. The two had talked all day, Jana was quite the talker, she told Kitty about her pets and her humongous family tree. Until the sun began to set and Kitty had to stop her, “Jana, why don’t we find a place to stay tonight, Yes?” Jana nodded. Then pointed at the closest mountain and happily said, “Can we sleep there?” Kitty almost fainted when she saw the cave. What if there was a bear in there, or bat’s, anything would be better than bats, but she had to agree, there were no other caves anywhere nearby. “Can you climb?” Kitty asked, looking down at the 5-year old. She nodded. And they began to climb, slipping at any movement they made, but finally they reached the cave, and lucky for them, it was bear free. Kitty laid out the soft blanket she’d taken from the orphanage, and the thin pillow. Then she searched around for sticks and once they’d been found, she lit a fire, as her dad had taught her when she was five. Then she took out the food. One cheese and jam sandwich, Kitty ripped it in half and gave the bigger half to Jana. They both ate hungrily and then they tucked themselves into bed while Jana sang one of her favorite lullaby’s, “Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening, Steal across the sky. Now the darkness gathers, Stars begins to peep, Birds and beasts and flowers Soon will be asleep.” Both woke the next morning hungry enough to eat a horse. And they both sat around the charred sticks that used to be a fire, and Kitty rummaged through her bag searching for breakfast, but none could be found, she opened her arms, and Jana ran into them, crying with hunger. How would they ever survive now? Without any food. How?

White. White, and More White. The sky was laced with white the mountains blanketed in white and the floor, white. She was lost. Never to be seen again by a living human, Kitty ventured into the white wonderland spread out for miles around her. Her cheeks grew red with cold and she regretted ever wishing for adventure. And then and there, Kitty crumpled down towards the snow and spoke her last words, “Why?” * * * * * * I’ve begun with the end, so you are prepared for what will happen. You see, I want you to know what happened to dear Katherine Whittle, or Kitty as everyone called her, before the end of this story. The reason why, because I want you to read what I’ve written, what I, the person who told Kitty to venture into that white wonderland and followed her in the shape of a bat, a bat she called Bee. I will now start from the beginning from where Kitty lived in an Orphanage just across the road from where I was a young witch named Olive. * * * * * * From the journal of Kitty Whittle: 2nd of August, 1979 I woke this morning thinking that Papa and Mama would be waiting for me in the kitchen with a wonderful home baked breakfast already made, on the table for me to eat. But instead I was in the orphanage dormitory, with no Mama and Papa. I went down to the orphanage dining room where a frowning cook poured me lumpy grey porridge. After breakfast I tried to make friends with the other orphans. But all of them wanted nothing to do with me. So I decided to go exploring. I tied my rust-coloured hair into a plait, it wasn’t a good plait, as Mama used to do my hair in the mornings. Then I left and walked across the street, that’s when I saw a big grey wooden house. It looked abandoned so I slipped through the front door. But after a few minutes I realised the house wasn’t abandoned and a girl lived there. I avoided all contact with her grey eyes and I left the house as soon as possible. That was why I left, but tomorrow I will come back. And I will find out who that girl is and who her family are. 16th of August, 1979 The girl is a witch, and she asked me to go on an adventure for her, I obviously said “YES!!!”. I would do anything to get away from the orphanage, literally anything. I have just packed my bag full of clothes, books and Mama’s photo album. I am sooo excited!!!!!!!! The witch girl says that I will have a bat companion coming with me. * * * * * * She was such a kind girl, Kitty, I wish she’d stayed around for longer. And I feel that I should’ve gone with my original plan. The plan where I went on the adventure. The plan where I would perish and Kitty would survive. But, even with all my magic, I can’t turn time.