Struggles

 Struggles

L.M Owens

The sun shone through our grimy window, sending a fiery glow across my Ma and siblings who were still sleeping on our mattress. The sheep that woke me up baaed louder than usual and I prayed for its silence so it would not awaken poor Ma, who needed all the rest she could get. Thankfully, my plea was answered. There was no point trying to go back to sleep so I lay in my itchy blanket, thinking. I was positive that today would have no misery. None at all. All of those days I wished I was invisible were over. All those days of scorn and ridicule were out the window.  No more gossip and rumours about the stability of our family, no more lies about my father’s morality and whether he would ever send for us. Today it was finally happening. I was heading for a better life.

Silently, I tiptoed past my family and crouched by the fireplace. I glanced at Ma’s watch as I crept past her, 6:00am. I sat on the hard stone floor, staring into the blackened chars from last night and shivered. The outside door had no lock and it swung open with a little creak. A small stack of twigs lay by the door collected by my twin brothers Sean and Patrick.  I picked up the little bundle and as I made to step back inside, I glanced hopefully at yet another patch of freshly dug ground. Green leaves sprouted from the earth. I ran forwards landing on my knees beside our priti patch and began to scramble at the soil with my fingernails. I pulled out a newly grown priti  but as I gazed at it triumphantly, I noticed the incriminating brown marks on it. The land had been cruel to us and I would not be sorry to see the back of it. Turning my back on our 6^th priti patch and feeling as though a lead weight was being dropped into my stomach, I made my way back into our blackhouse.

I threw the dry sticks into the grate and struck a match. The timber ignited immediately and the cold room was filled with warmth. I spent the next couple of hours on the cobbled floor staring into the dancing flames of the fire, imagining America – the land of the free, streets paved with gold, friendly new faces alongside sorely missed relatives. 7:00am, 8:00am, I thought it was time to wake the others. This had been Lana’s job since Pa left but I knew she would be exhausted from working extra hours to make sure everything was ready before our departure, so the responsibility had fallen to me.

“Ma?” I shook her gently and she woke with a start. “We don’t want to miss the boat to ‘merica Ma.” I said helping her up. She nodded and smiled, patting my arm.  The next hour was a frantic rush of trying to collect the few belongings we would be taking with us.

As per usual, Sean and Patrick were racing to see who could pack their things the fastest. Sean and Patrick were identical twins. Patrick was older by 5 minutes so everything in life was a race. Who can eat the fastest? Who can clean the house the fastest? Blah Blah Blah. Reaching their tenth birthdays soon, they are the youngest living siblings in the family. Their bright ginger hair gives the impression that their head is on fire and their piercing blue eyes are like shards of shimmering ice. The spitting image of my father (though without the beard.) I missed my father so much. He had left to find us a farm in America two years ago and we were now following him. Lana is my oldest sibling (and the most responsible). Her fourteenth birthday was last week. She seems to have taken over from Pa and spends most of her time helping Ma. She has electric blue eyes (like Pa) but her long wavy blonde hair is identical to Ma’s. Although Sean and Patrick have not realised it, I know that Lana, like me, has realised that Ma’s racking cough is not harmless and has been trying to do everything to help her.

 

As we left the blackhouse, we all knelt beside the two crosses erected in the hard ground adjacent to our home and said goodbye for the final time to our younger siblings who never made it through the harsh winter.

With only small sacks slung over our backs we began the long walk to Queensland port. Within thirty minutes my crumpled feet were scratched and painful due to the hole that had worn away at the sole. After hours of what felt like pointless meandering we reached the dock with a few minutes to spare. We had been told that the ship was big – the biggest there is, but nothing prepared us for this. A great beast of a liner loomed in front of us, blocking out all sunlight. My mouth fell open and I gawped at the marvel like a fish out of water. Every inch of it was under my scrutiny but when my eyes rolled over the poop deck, I froze.

 A beautiful girl, about the same age as Lana, stood on the deck - her long periwinkle blue dress and blonde ringlets so regal I was sure she must have been a princess. Our eyes met. She raised an eyebrow and took in my dirty hair and frayed clothes looking disgusted. I stared at my feet and she turned imperiously away from me. “Never be ashamed o’ who ye are, my children.” Said Ma who had clearly noticed the girl too, before she began to cough and splutter once more. I stumbled to the gangway with my family. My mind was swirling with angry thoughts. I could not help being poor. I could not help that all I had was a sack slung over my shoulder. She obviously had never known real hunger, never stopped to think that some people can’t afford maids or porters.

When I reached the gangway, I was pulled out of my reverie by a uniformed man yanking my hair back, none too gently. I looked up, annoyed, but then understood. Ma had explained that as we were 3^rd class passengers, we would have to consent to a health check so I kept quiet. The man looked as though he would rather be anywhere else than in my hair. I couldn’t blame him. Even though Lana had helped us all to wash earlier in the week, my auburn hair still looked dishevelled and unkempt compared to those looking down on us from high above.

Once I had been deemed healthy enough, I looked up, ready to take in the beauty of the ship again. With a jolt, I saw the same girl staring back at me. She stood beside a
large potbellied man – who could only be her father. Both were looking at me as though I was a disgusting sea-slug. I did not want to see the looks of disdain on both faces and quickly examined an insect that had also been journeying up the gangway. But then I reminded myself of my thoughts from earlier that morning. I was positive that today would have no misery. None at all. Gone are the days of wishing I was invisible. No more scorn or ridicule. Head held high, I stared with excitement as we entered the biggest ship in the world. We were aboard the magnificent Titanic.

  

The Race

 The Race

She sped around the corner, the crowd’s cheers ringing through the stadium. Fourth place, third place second place! Her steed’s nose was inches behind the horse in first. The lead jockey kicked out, attempting to unseat her, but she was too fast for him. Like a bolt of lightning, her trusty mare galloped onward leaving the competition far behind. She flicked hair out of her eyes and gritted her teeth. The final turn, the finish line was in her sights. She could see herself holding the trophy - it felt as though she had already won. One last hurdle remained between her and victory. Easy. She dug in her heals and her steed obediently galloped faster than any other. The crowds roared their approval, jumping up and down in their seats. She leant forward in the saddle preparing to leap over the final jump. Suddenly the ground was coming up to meet her… CRASH! Back to reality. She was lying on the arena floor staring up at her pony’s face, the ground free of stampeding horses or roaring crowds. She rolled over and clambered to her feet, brushing sand from her jodhpurs. “Lily!?” called Laura the riding instructor. “Are you hurt?” “No, I’m fine. Just daydreaming again.” “Congratulations! That’s you a real horse rider now!” she said, clapping Lily on the back. Lily grinned sheepishly and hauled herself back into the saddle, ready to try again.

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

Vote for Basil

  I'm so sorry I haven't uploaded for so long! I really wanted to write a new Basil story so... here we are! Anyway, this story is about the upcoming election and I thought this would be funny. I'm currently reading Animal Farm by George Orwell so I took inspiration from that. Enjoy! 😀

Comrades,

I care about Nithsdale more than anywhere else (apart from the treat cupboard.) It’s where I was born and has been my home ever since. More importantly, I care about the welfare of pets and all animals. Which is why, as a member of the Society Of Dogs party (S.O.D) I encourage you to elect me as your representative in the Scottish Parliament, on 6^th of May 2021.

All animals are equal (but some are more equal than others, in the case of cats.)  Personally, I think Old Major had the right idea. Animals are not the slaves of humans and we can think for ourselves. It is now time, comrades, that we take our place as equal members of society.

I have a dream comrades. I have a dream that one day my four legged friends will not be judged by the colour of their fur but by the content of their character. And I hope, comrades, that you will support me so that this dream can become reality.

 Through uniting the animals, I will revolutionise Scotland and fill every Scottish animal’s life with fairness and unity and always put my constituents before myself. These are some of my pledges:

If your pet is under 6yrs of age you will be able to apply for the Scottish Pet Payment (S.P.P) Anyone can apply for this as long as the animal you register is not a cat. No cats allowed. Food, the burning of leads, dental care, toys, blankets, beds or even family outings can all be funded by S.P.P. Every two weeks, £10 will be transferred to your bank account to help look after your dog, rabbit, bird, snake, or polar bear, but not cats. If S.P.P appeals to you, vote Basil, the pooch who is proud to support Scottish pets, but not not cats, those demons of the underworld.

Every pet owner has the legal obligation to look after their furry friends. The Animal Health and Welfare (Scotland) Act 2006 was approved so that every owner has a legal responsibility for their animals.  In the Welfare of Dogs: Code of Practice it states that your dog should be well trained and have enough exercise. But I pledge to extend this list to include that all animals should have a reasonable education. It is a human right that every person must receive an education, so why not animals? Wouldn’t you like your pet to be able to multiply like a calculator, whenever you can’t be bothered to figure a sum out yourself? Or be better behaved at the dinner than even Queen Elizabark? I will build new schools for all animals. Even cats, just as long as they bark. If you want your pet to be as edyoo educated as me, vote Basil, the best of them all.

Yours Sincerely,

Basil Owens

Founding member of the S.O.D party

Tweets

 I got the inspiration for this story from the story called Songbirds by Nayanika Basu in the book Stay at Home! To read this story visit: https://indd.adobe.com/view/0f834b3c-c44c-439d-be0d-2fb7de5d6caf

I hope you enjoy it! 😀

Tweets

Blue Tit: Hi Robin, strange year.

Robin: Aye, the big beardie yin’s still workin frae his nest – starin at the pecking machine.

Blue Tit: Ken, it’s coz the cock o’ the walk’s telt them a’ tae stay at hame.

Robin: Whit?

Blue Tit: Whaur ye been? I’m talkin aboot their heid gaffer, the yin on the telly! Ye ken? The yin that bobs her heed feathers aboot like yin ae us!

Robin: Oh aye! D’ye ken whit I saw yisterday at nummer 12?

Blue Tit: Whit?

Robin: See the weans? The wee’est yin’s been puttin that stripey tie roon his neck and donnerin aff with his schull bag oan his back.

Blue Tit: Ah huvney seen him.

Robin: Aye, weel he gets up early and disnae come back tae the efternoon. Yer ey late tae the feeders.

Blue Tit: Tee tee! Weel his maw’s forgoat tae put maer sunfloor seed oot, so I’m no in a hurry! Wis he wearin yin o’ them daft coupen coverings?

Robin: Aye, and a fat loat o’ help it’ll dae him! He’s ey munchin oan snacks and has tae take it aff every 5 meenits! The biggest wean’s still at hame. She’s starin at the wee screen that’s ey stuck tae her haun!

Blue Tit:  Ken! And their Maw’s a bit obsessed – cleanin doorknobs and the like, ken?

Robin: But they dinnae hink o’ us dae they?!

Blue Tit: Whit ye oan aboot?

Robin: Weel, ye see her cleanin ivryhing – but huv they ever cleaned oor feeders? Naw!

Blue Tit: Fair point! But huv ye heard the lassie singin?  

Robin: Whit lassie?

Blue Tit: The fair haired yin! She’s singin aw the time noo. Nae mare rock songs – braw ballads – lovely!

Robin: Ah hink ah kin hear her.

Blue Tit: Aye, that’s her! Noo wheesht and listen!

Who Dunnit?

 Hi! Happy New Year! It's been so cold and snowy the last few weeks so I thought: a cold and snowy story! My friends and I have been sledging and making snowmen all week and that was the inspiration for this story. Hope you enjoy!😀

Who Dunnit?

One, two three, HEAVE! The four friends put the final head on the fourth snowman. Panting, they gazed proudly at the motionless white statues. Sparkling snowflakes floated through the air, to land softly in the garden of Crawick Cottage. The cold white figures stood in a line, facing the snow covered hedge, twig arms poking absurdly from the ball in the middle. Laughing at an uncanny likeness, Katie pointed at one of the recently created snowmen, “That one has a cheeky face, just like Matthew!” Matthew ran inside and returned seconds later carrying his Harry Potter hat and scarf. He placed them on the snowman with the mischievous grin. Amilia stared lovingly at the the snowman with the widest smile. “This one looks pretty.” With a gloved hand she placed her scarf around its neck. “Just like you,” said Katie rolling her eyes at Lily. Lily picked a tall thin snowman to decorate and fashioned it with her Sanquhar pattern hat and scarf while Katie chose a smart, sneaky looking one with a jolly grin to wear her stripy scarf and furry hat.

 Stepping back to admire their work, it was as if they were staring into a mirror - at alternate versions of themselves. “Oh!” said Katie “The wind makes it look like this snowman is waving!” Everyone laughed heartily but Matthew scrunched up his face and said seriously, “I think it did move its arm.” Lost in their own thoughts the children started when Lily and Matthew’s mum called them in for dinner and the group dispersed. Katie shouted back, “Meet for sledging tomorrow if it snows again tonight in the field across from the Lawyers Brae sign!” Lily gave her the thumbs up signal and stepped inside.

 The cockerel crowed as the sun broke through the angry sky. Matthew and Lily looked out of the window to see a deep carpet of snow three inches deep. There had been a mini blizzard the previous night but even the power cut couldn’t dampen their spirits. The merciless cold stung their faces as they stepped outside. The wind was beating a violent tattoo on Lily’s and Matthew’s jackets making them shiver. They climbed the dry stone dyke and, over the wind, they heard what sounded like birds squawking in the distance. Wait-that wasn’t birds… Lily looked at Matthew, he had heard it too. They rushed along the road, slipping on the ice, and tripping over stones blanketed in snow. Rounding a corner, Lily and Matthew almost crashed into Katie and Amilia who were also trying to discover the source of the noise. Together, the foursome slid to a halt. A bundle of skirts seemed to be twisting and turning on the ground.

 Wilma, our old neighbour from down the hill, was sprawled on the ice, trying to untangle herself. The children hurried over. “Are you hurt?!” shouted Lily, helping Wilma sit up straight and gazing concernedly at her. Neighbours were running as fast as they could on the icy ground towards Wilma - who seemed unharmed apart from the embarrassment. “I’m fine! Quite fine!” said Wilma consolingly, “Now watch this ice! It’s treacherous!” “What happened?!” someone shouted. And Wilma said, “I think that someone is playing a rather crude joke. It seems that they stretched a wire at the top of the hill. But really!” said Wilma “No need to fuss, I’m fine!” Wilma was helped to her feet and led back to her house. Lily, Katie and Amilia stared at Matthew. This sounded like something he usually found funny but… “It wasn’t me!” he said incredulously.

Crawick was total chaos. Zach ran up the street shouting angrily. “Right!” he scowled, storming towards them. “Who nicked my bike?” “No one!” Said Matthew defensively. “Well, it’s gone and you’re the only person, Matthew, that’s ever said he wished he could have my bike!” “No, I didn’t!” Matthew yelled, pushing past Zach who glared suspiciously after him. The whole street was madness. Zach’s big dog Ollie came bounding out, covered in pink spray paint. Flowers that the villagers loved and cared for were upside down. Katie and Amilia’s swings were hanging from lampposts and Lily and Matthew’s mum was storming towards them.

“Matthew!? Lily!?” Matthew and Lily gulped. “Firstly,” she said, and the children wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks fly out of her nostrils, “I want to know who stole Dad’s cans of cider from the back door. Go on, own up!” Her glare was so ferocious that it was a wonder that Lily and Matthew didn’t back away. No one had taken Dad’s cider and they were getting blamed for it. “Well, if nobody’s admitting to that theft then may I ask, WHY is our washing line stretched across the top of Miller’s Brae?” She hadn’t heard about Wilma yet and the children were glad that she was still ignorant. Nobody knew what to say. “Right, well I think it’s time to come home if neither of you know anything about it.” Lily managed a wave at Katie and Amilia before she and Matthew were marched home.

That night Lily lay in bed thinking. “Something very strange has happened here and it wasn’t me, Matthew, Katie or Amilia because we love the people of Crawick. Perhaps it’s someone from Sanquhar? It just didn’t make sense to her and soon Lily was fast asleep.

Keep your eyes peeled for Part 2!

Who Dunnit Part 2

 

Two nights ago, strange events happened in Crawick and four local children were being blamed for them. Determined to prove their innocence, they turned into detectives to unravel the mystery…

 Who Dunnit Part 2

Next morning, four children slipped out of two houses, unbeknown to their parents who had grounded them for their potential involvement in the pranks and vandalism that had mysteriously occurred around Crawick two nights ago. Lily, Matthew, Katie and Amilia met in secret, half-way up Millers Brae to discuss a plan for proving their innocence to their parents and the villagers.

“Ok,” whispered Lily, “Me and Amilia will interview the suspects and victims, and you two,” she pointed at Matthew and Katie, “can check out where the trip wire was hidden.” Everyone nodded silently and Lily added, “Meet back here in half an hour.”

 Matthew and Katie continued up the icy hill while Amilia and Lily slipped down – taking care not to land on their bottoms. When Katie and Matthew finally reached the top of the hill, Katie knelt in the snow, pointing to a thin line where the soft snow had been parted. “This is where your mum’s washing line was stretched across the road.” Matthew gasped and said, “Incriminating evidence! Look at those weird footprints! It looks like someone’s been wearing tub lids on their feet!” Katie clapped her hands excitedly. “Well done Matthew!” And she quickly snapped a shot on her phone of the strange, curved rectangular shapes that were scattered around the offending area.

The next half hour passed fairly quickly and the children were feeling rather proud of themselves as they met again. “Well, we have found out a good amount.” said Lily, puffing out her chest. “We know that Bob, Wilma’s next door neighbour, went for a walk at 6:30pm to the Dumping Stone and back and his snowy footprints corroborate this.  There didn’t appear to be any other shoe marks on the road which would suggest that he was the last walker until 9:30am, next day, when Wilma tripped and fell - considering that it stopped snowing at 6:00pm last night. So, either Bob nicked our washing line and used it as a trip wire or someone sneaked along when it was dark and everyone was in bed. It was placed between 6:30pm at night and 9:30am in the morning. Still no leads on the upturned flowerpots or the swings dangling from the lampposts.”

Katie sniffed disapprovingly and began accusing everyone and anyone that she could think of who may have stolen her swings, before crossing her arms so tightly that it looked unlikely that she would ever unravel them again. They still hadn’t retrieved their swings and the kindest thing to say was that Katie was cracking up. To sail the conversation out of these dangerous waters, Lily piped up that she and Amilia had also interviewed Zach who was able to shine some light on the case. Apparently, when he went to bed, 10:30pm, his big dog Ollie was white and when he woke up, 7:30am, Ollie had been spray painted pink (Zach whole heartedly blamed Amilia for this, as pink was her favourite colour and she does love to paint!) “So that narrows it down even further.” said Lily. “If we’re assuming it’s the same pranksters behind everything, then the events must have happened between 10:30pm and 7:30am next morning. But we can only see Bob’s footprints from last night, so who else could have been around?” “Well,” chipped in Matthew, “we saw really funny shapes in the snow beside the trip wire, and it looked like it could have been someone wearing tubs on their feet – perhaps to throw anyone off the scent.” “So, does this mean that we can rule out Bob then?” asked Lily. “Yeah, Bob’s not a suspect.” agreed Katie. “We can also discount Wilma, of course.” “Free again tomorrow?” asked Lily. “Yup.” replied Katie.

Lily and Matthew scurried up the hill while Katie and Amilia slipped down towards their house. Thankfully, neither parents noticed their children’s absence and they were able to sneak back inside undetected as dusk wrapped its thick blanket over the confused hamlet of Crawick.  Lying in bed that night, Lily was sure that she heard someone laughing at her as though mocking her. But the net was closing in.

                                                     

Who Dunnit Part 3

Who Dunnit? Part 3

L.M Owens

 

12 o’clock chimed, bringing with it another inch of snow. Lily and Matthew were thankful that Katie had photographed the weird marks from yesterday as most snow would have covered any trace of evidence. They told their parents that they were going sledging, which wasn’t exactly a lie as they were likely to do this at some point. Running into their play hut, they spied out of the windows and waited for Katie and Amilia. Eventually, they arrived ten minutes late and with so many layers on, they looked like giant teddy bears. When they saw Lily and Matthew peering out of the window, they scurried up and joined them in the hut. “Sorry we’re late!” said Katie hurriedly, “I told my mum we were going out in the snow and she made sure we wore every piece of winter clothing we owned! “That’s ok,” said Lily, “Now, let’s get down to business. Does anyone have anything to report? Any new leads?

“Yes!” said Amilia breathlessly. “Someone let a cockerel in our house at 4:00am and it crowed all morning, Mum’s sure it was Katie! Remember those funny shapes in the snow surrounding the trip wire? We also found them in our back garden when the cockerel woke us up.  They led up to our backdoor, and that was the only day we forgot to lock it!  In fact, we noticed them everywhere around Crawick! Thankfully, Katie snuck out and took all of these pictures, (she showed them on the phone) because this new layer of snow has almost erased any trace.  Ohh if only there hadn’t been a blooming power cut, then we could have checked the CCTV cameras and it would be clear for everyone to see who was behind all this mischief!” Lily rubbed her arm soothingly. “Don’t worry Amilia, we’ll prove to everyone in Crawick that it wasn’t us. Let’s go down and sledge for a bit to cheer us up.”

They were just about to file out of the play hut when Lily yelped. “Oh my! What the…?” The others followed her shaky finger and their hands leaped to their mouths. Four cans of cider lay in the corner of their hut. “Dad’s cider.” She stared aghast at the crumpled, empty cans. “Should we tell?” said Matthew worriedly. “And be throttled half to death? No thanks!” cried Lily scathingly. “They’ll all think it was us!” Nodding her head and smiling grimly, Katie twitched a blanket from the pile in the corner over the cans. “Just in case any nosey parker comes peeking through the window. We’ll deal with this later. C’mon, may as well sledge for a while.”

The day was full of fun and laughter as the children momentarily forgot their worries as they careered wildly down the hill on their sledges until their hands became numb and their feet ice blocks. On the road home, they chatted animatedly until they noticed a figure walking towards them. As he came closer, he tutted disapprovingly. “You’ll be the four troublemakers then.” He was an old, stooped man with a walking stick grasped in his brown aged spotted hand. “Poor Wilma.” He shook his head. “What do you mean?” asked Katie anxiously. “I thought she was ok!” “Yeah well she was rushed to hospital last night with a suspected hip fracture! But I suppose it was worth it for your little moment of fun?” he glared at them. “But we didn’t…” began Matthew heatedly. But the old man interrupted him. “Don’t think no one saw you the other night. I look out of my window across the river and what do I see? Four kids carrying a cockerel! You’re not fooling anybody.” And with that, he shuffled away glancing back and throwing them contemptuous looks.

The children stared at each other. Matthew gnawed at his stubby nails. Amilia bit her lip so hard it would soon draw blood. Katie shuffled her feet and stared at the ground. Lily, who had been chewing her hair, looked up nervously. “Hello Zach.” Everyone else’s heads snapped up to watch as a second figure approached them. Zach ignored her. Instead, he held up a piece of paper in his hand, shoving it under Amilia’s nose who stepped back in alarm. “That’s the bill. We’ve got to pay the vet £200 for what you’ve done. Ollie had an allergic reaction to that paint!” he scowled, without looking at her. As he turned to leave, he glared at Matthew. “And I’d appreciate it if I could have my bike back. And I swear Matthew, if I get it back in pieces, you’ll be buying me a new one!” The four stared miserably at each other. “You know, I don’t even blame Zach for being angry with us. All the evidence does point to us. And if this had happened to our dog, and my bike, I’d feel exactly the same.” said Matthew.

They all nodded and ran up the hill. As they reached the play hut, Matthew remembered that Dad had borrowed their seats for his own hut so they hurried towards Dad’s shed to retrieve them.  The shed door was conveniently open. Even before the contents inside came into their line of vision, the children knew that something wasn’t right. The air was thick with a deep feeling of foreboding that made them instantly wary. Matthew, who was the first to the door, gave a low moan when he saw what was sitting in the shed. A mangled piece of blue metal, two flat tyres and a squashed bell lay in a heap on the floor. Zach’s bike. Above it stood dad, arms crossed, eyes blazing. “Explain.” he said through a lipless mouth. And the children launched into speech. After a quarter of an hour of coherent explanation, Dad was forced to accept that the foursome was indeed innocent. “So, you think someone might be stealing the garments off your snowmen as a disguise, to frame you?” Dad asked, his brow furrowed. They all agreed with bated breath. “Well,” began Dad. “If you want to find out who’s stealing your stuff and causing all this trouble, you could set up my wildlife camera and catch the thief in action.” Dad glanced out of his shed window at the descending darkness. “It’s getting late, you should probably go home now. I’ll set up the camera.” They all trooped outside and Katie and Amilia waved as they reached the driveway, before trotting down the hill. “I wonder who we’ll catch!” said Matthew excitedly. As the siblings walked inside, Dad fixed the camera to a tree opposite the snowmen, covered it in leaves and pressed record.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Katie and Amilia hammered on Lily and Matthew’s door. Matthew opened it quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning from ear to ear. “Have you got the footage?” asked Katie, frantically unravelling a scarf from around her neck. Lily appeared in the doorway, holding up the wildlife camera and smiling. “Come on, we can watch it in my room.” she said. The children trooped upstairs and sat on Lily’s bed, staring at the camera expectantly. Lily propped it up on a stack of pillows and with trembling fingers, pressed play.

A figure stirred in the shadows and began to make its way forward. It’s arms were so thin and spindly they looked as though they could be blown away with a single gust of wind. Who was it? It’s body was as round as a plum. It’s bright orange nose was at least five inches long and it’s feet were curved and rectangular. Three more figures joined the first. They looked identical.  The first rascal skipped off towards the washing line and began to pull it down. Two more ran at the bird feeders and stole the fat balls from within- starting a game of tennis with rackets that had been left on the ground. Suddenly, the last of the intruders pointed straight at the camera, pulled a chunk of their own flesh from their stomach, and hurled it at the lens – covering it in white, wet splodges.

They all sat staring at the blank screen. Their faces resembled those who had been recently hit over the head with clubs. Finally, Amilia broke the silence. “The snowmen!” She stared at them all, her face a mask of shock. “How will we prove it? No one will believe us!” “Your dad does. I think I might have an idea…” said Katie thoughtfully. “Does he use Facebook?” “Yes.” the siblings replied.

After writing a careful and thorough explanation of the strange happenings in Crawick, Lily and Matthew’s dad uploaded their comments along with the video footage, to “The Town of Sanquhar” Facebook page, asking everyone to share and spread the news and evidence of their innocence in a bit to restore their tattered reputations. Hopefully this does the trick, said Amilia, crossing her fingers.

“What about the snowmen though?” asked Matthew. “It’s time to put an end to their skulduggery!” replied Lily firmly. They marched outside; heads held high. But when they reached the garden, all that was left were four hats and scarves and four carrot noses amidst diminishing blobs of snow. Seeing as they could no longer have the confrontation that they wished for, they enjoyed the last of the bodies with a snowball fight. “Take that, you abominable snowmen!” as the remainder of their bodies were scattered all over the garden.

When they arrived back inside, news and messages of support from Facebook were already flooding in. Dad was in the process of fixing Zach’s bike and Zach couldn’t stop apologising for ever suspecting them. The five of them set about tidying up the street and best of all, Wilma was returning that afternoon from hospital, fit as a fiddle. “Well done kids, you could be detectives some day!” said Dad, clapping them on the back. The four friends grinned and took a bow.

THE END