The Ghost of Bretforton Woods
Hastily, Alex spread the butter on the wholemeal bread. ‘Right Mum, that’s all the food sorted out for the picnic, the forks and knives,’ he explained. ‘And plastic bags for the conkers… if there are any,’ he swiftly added.
Alex was a cool kid, always wearing the latest fashion. On the other hand, Liam was the exact opposite. ‘Are you sure we should go into the deep, dark woods?’ he asked uncertainly.
‘Yes we should!’ replied James, who was in the middle of peeling the last orange.
James was the bravest of the three best friends; they were all 12 years old.
‘We’ll be fine, Mum. Bye,’ Alex reassured her.
‘Bye, Mrs Brown,’ said Liam and James in unison.
They wandered to the wood, talking over their plan again. ‘We will split up once we’ve found the first conker tree, then we’ll find a tree each, collect one bag full of conkers and then head back to the first one. If you can’t find that tree, go home and we’ll meet there… although you will miss out on all the food!’ Alex joked.
The boys had just entered the wood when a sudden gust of wind blew James’ hat off and into a bush. He bent down and ventured into the bush, grabbed the hat and brushed the leaves off himself. It was then that they all heard the mysterious sound of leaves crackling. All three boys froze to the spot. But if it wasn’t their footsteps, then whose was it?
The sky turned grey and the wind began to howl. All the birds in the nearby trees above squawked and flew off in a flurry. Suddenly, a giant gust of wind knocked the boys over and threw them to the ground.
They heard a high-pitched whistling sound coming from the far side of the wood. It was ear piercing! It appeared to be coming closer. All three boys sat up and stared around, puzzled. A dark figure loomed in the shadows. The wind slowed and the boys climbed to their feet. ‘Ooooh, I’m the ghost of Bretforton Woods. Soon you will become one too!’ it cackled.
Alex fainted from fear.
‘What do you want?’ James screeched. How were they going to get out of this mess?
‘What do we do? What do we do?’ questioned James. ‘Alex has fainted, there’s somebody after us and I don’t know what to do!’ he went on. ‘We’re stuck!’ he screamed out loud.
‘No we’re not,’ whispered Liam. ‘Grab that knife, throw it at the so-called ghost. We’ll see if it’s real.’ So he did. Liam threw the glinting knife straight at the ghost. It somersaulted through the air towards the inky blackness. The handle of the knife hit the ghost and bounced off it just like a ball.
‘Ow, that hurt! I-I-I…. mean, ooooh!’ it stuttered.
‘Yes,’ the boys whispered in triumph.
It was NOT a ghost after all!
‘Oh no!’ said the obviously-not-a ghost. ‘I’ve been caught! Hi Liam. Hello Alex. You okay, James?’
It was Jacob, the class clown. Two giggling girls also came out of the bushes with a camera and sprinted off laughing. They had seen the boys scared on camera; soon the whole school would know, or even the whole world! They had played a trick on the boys just for the sake of it.
They had played a trick on the boys to scare them and show them up. ‘Ha ha,’ laughed Jacob, running off to catch up with the girls.
‘W-what happened?’ asked a voice. It was Alex, who had woken up.
‘It is a long, long story,’ exclaimed the boys, laughing themselves now.
But the gust of wind and the grey sky was not Jacob. Something weird had happened that day, something unnatural.
Would it happen again, and if so, why…?