Hi, I am Kitty, and this is my book review, storytelling and how to draw blog. I love to read and draw, and my favourite hobby is writing. My pen name for book reviews on The Guardian is Kat Winter, so don't worry, that's still me. Uh... I love drawing. And stuff.Yay! .................... Kitty, 7th April 2015
Hello, I'm Kitty, and I am going to try to make this blog about writing, reading and drawing. I will mostly post weekly, but sometimes more, sometimes less. I love Doctor Who, drawing, cats and potatoes.
this confirms my suspicions.Leaving Dad
at home by himself was a bad idea. Because of him, my room is horrible and
scary. He caught the night in my bedroom.
might sound silly, or unspeakably stupid, but it’s true. The rest of my house
is normal, boring even. When you enter my room it’s a shock. It’s grey-black
and the shadows on the wall are in all kinds of twisted shapes.
ceiling is a dark dark navy blue, with patches of a white-gold. These are the
stars. When you open the window sunshine doesn’t stream through like it should.
All you can hear is a muffled screech of faraway owls. And even that is barely
noticeable. It is like looking into a vortex of nothing. I hate it.
told Lottie and Selma at school but they laughed. It was obvious they didn’t
believe me, so I went for the last choice. My little brother.
I did anything else I showed him. He sighed; ‘Don’t tell me… it was Dad?’ and
he was right! We thought for hours, and he started fiddling with a stray torch,
flicking it on and off, on and off. We looked at each other, then at the torch,
first idea was to get a super bright torch, so we snuck into Dad’s room and
grabbed an ‘ultra bright pocket sun’ from his bedside table.
tested it, nearly blinding ourselves in the process. We started running towards
my bedroom door. We knew exactly what to do next.
I casually strolled into my room, whistling all the while. My brother strode in
after me, also whistling. I glared at him fiercely and he stopped, and turned
on the pocket torch.
that all hell broke loose. The torch burned and the darkness started to
falter.Bird-like screams of pain echoed
about the room as the torch drove away every last sliver of shadow. We watched,
wide-eyed as a starry patch of sky fled the room. The night was gone – and it
never, ever came back.
And that was a bit of a problem, because it meant that at night – real night – it was too bright to sleep! By KittyBookLover