After 6 months I finally had the courage to open it. Dust started to sit on it and I wiped it with a damp clothÂ (mostly because I am allergic to dust). I opened it on the first page and the letters were small- like in a chapter book. Maybe smaller. I felt disappointed because in a strange way I thought it was going to be in a different language. Slowly, I threw it into the corner with a thud- it was very heavy. After a while my mum screamed at me to tidy my room since it got messy again. I hadÂ half an hour. However instead of that time, it took me two hours. I wasn’t surprised whenÂ I was grounded for four days.
The next day I woke up half an hour late (probably because I stayed up late). I was also late for school. That was a problem. Even my work was horrible- messy, wrong and it didn’t make sense. I needed to restart it all. After school I got lost and was late for dinner. Once I was back in my roomÂ I couldn’t stop thinking why my luck was so bad. At that time I still didn’t think it was that book. If only I read it.
I don’t know what happened next- I must have fallen asleep. So I missed my favourite TV show. Let me make it short for you. This is the bad luck I hadÂ in the rest of the day: my phone broke, my pens ran out and I couldn’t do my homework, there wasÂ a giant rip in my school jumper (I don’t know how that happened), I nearly broke armÂ while falling off the stairs, the power went off even though that was also the whole street’s bad luck and the last thing that I am going to say is that my whole shelf broke and all my books fell on the floor including some more things like my cup which shattered! My whole hand was bleeding. But there wereÂ more problems.Â That was the ‘best’ day ever!
The little girl screamed with joy as she played in her sand dune. She was the happiest girl that lived, with parents that cared and loved her. But then she heard mysterious rustling in the leaves. What was that noise? As you could imagine, she was a little girl so she got paralyzed with fear. As quick as a lightning bolt, she felt a hand firmly cover her mouth, so she heard a muffled scream. She got silently kidnapped! All that remains is old,broken sandcastles.
Sherlock exited the bar and grinned. Jane (a girl he had always had a crush on) just gave him a kiss on the cheek! Sherlock felt his heart pounding like crazy. Anyway he had to get that out of his mind and concentrate on the new case about the kidnapped girl. After he got he report file, he recognized the girl. It was the daughter of Sherlock’s parents old friend. He knew that he had to solve the case, but the question was how? After a couple of minutes of extreme thinking he got it! Sherlock could watch a video of the security camera to see who it was. Sherlock showed the video to the police and it was all over for the kidnapper. But would you believe it? The kidnapper was Jane!
The museum was deadly silent, just like everything was at the witching hour when heÂ striked. Out of nowhere the guard heard footsteps behind him so he spun around and there he was. Immediately the guard was struck down with one painful punch. The thief looked around and found what he was looking for. Satisfied, he took it and left silently, just like he entered.
Max started to howl with pain as Sherlock played the most ridiculous, painful music that even seemed offending to the world of music. “Well at least try no to tell me how bad my music is,” argued Sherlock.”How can I be your music teacher if the music you play hurts my ears!” Sherlock was so shocked that he went outside to cool down. His heart has been pierced by Max. Well, maybe Max was right. Maybe Sherlock just was rubbish at playing. Anyway, the thing Sherlock was good at is solving cases and he just heard about the theft of the missing alien skull. The alien skull is the most precious thing on earth. It was said that the alien skull was found by astronauts on mars and is the skull of an alien. Sherlock would go there at night and get the robber. There was Sherlock at night, in the darkness of the museum. But he was right the robber came. “I knew you’ll be here boy.” Without more words they started fighting, each had the equal amount of skill. But then something amazing happened. The skull fell out of his bag and tripped him over. It was over for the robber.
Jake tiptoed through the foggy, dark forest, hoping to find the secret world. He longed to find it, he had to find it. The trees curled into truculent faces and the clouds slept silently above, turning darker every minute. Suddenly, Jake sought a rusty, damp gate. It was lurking in the pit of terror. When the world turns it’s back on you; when you are in the middle of a treacherous descision; when you’re left all alone, then trouble strikes. Sauntering slowly, Jake strolled towards the horror. The towering, stained entrance creaked open. Jake entered, and that was when he made the biggest mistake of his life.
The small american man sat in his bank, counting his endless amounts of money. Kissing it like his own wife, he thought about how he’s going to get twice as more tomorrow. He yawned quietly, and snoozed off. Slowly, the banker opened his eyes and tried to find the source of the sound which woke him up. Suddenly, he got pulled out of his chair and thrown on the floor. He found himself looking into the eyes of a big, bald muscular man. “Hello little man, I’ve been wondering if you could borrow me some money?” The little man whimpered, but before he could answer, the man shot him. He exited the bank, laughing ominously. The room was empty except of the dead corpse in the middle.
Â “GOAAAAL” Sherlock watched in despair as his favorite team lost the match. His heart shriveled up like an Autumn summer leaf. After the match, he caught his friend, Marty, in the midst of the crowd. “I heard your home team lost the match,” said Marty, cheerful as always. “Don’t even talk about it,” murmured Sherlock.
On his way home, he witnessed a crime scene, and immediately went to see what was the fuss about. After he saw the body bag, he knew it was something serious. He went up to the sergeant and asked what has happened. “A banker got murdered,” said the sergeant in his rusty voice, “but the problem is that we have three suspects and we don’t who it was.” He gave Sherlock the case file and Sherlock went home. At home he tried to figure out, but it was like looking for something that doesn’t exist. All of the three suspects have the same amount of evidence. After what seemed like days, Sherlock remembered something. On his way to the match, he saw one of the suspects Josh Hawkness, entering the bank. He raced down the road and saw him. “I’m arresting you under suspicion of murder.” He snorted, “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to find me.” And without more words Josh took out a knife and swiped at Sherlock. Luckily, Sherlock was prepared for his kind of situation. He dodged and handcuffed him. “I still can’t believe it was you, Dad!”