Wednesday the 18th
of December 2013
WALT: Use different
narrative techniques to engage the reader
The events I’m about to relate began a fortnight ago in
the middle of a forest in Wales. The single structure was named Drear Forest
House.
Gathered there for dinner were the seven members of an
extraordinary club called the Good Comrades. Into this unique gathering came
Blissa bearing a message for Ralph King her father. In his day a business
owner.
King received the envelope casually. When they saw the
contents the Good Comrades took it all as a joke but Blissa was right……… this
was no laughing matter.
For on the following night Ralph King died menacingly and
under the most horrible circumstances. Kings body along with his vintage 1940
Messerschmitt BF 109 was later retrieved from the burnt tree, wrecked from the
inside out and unrecognisable to the naked eye.
Despite King’s suspicious death the good comrades
continued their dinner, drinking a final toast to King. When in came Camille
with a second letter this time for her father Stanley Raebone. In his day a
distinguished actor. This time you may be sure there was no laughter. These men
were afraid and their fear was justified. It was six days until they found
Raebones battered body.
Jess Camil sat upright in an old vintage chaise lounge
explaining to Mr Holmes and Dr Watson the interesting events of the past
fortnight Holmes listened carefully while loading his barrel like pipe ready to
smoke. Holmes strolled around the room purposely. He was a master detective and
strolling helps him think. After hearing what Jess said Holmes decided that he
and Watson should go to Wales to investigate further.
Grumpily Mr Holmes arrived at Dr Watson’s house at eleven
in the morning. They were supposed to be going to Wales but Dr Watson must have
overslept. Once Dr Watson was up Mr Holmes caught a tram. “To Wales please” Mr
Holmes asked the agitated, half tired tram driver. Half way there Holmes
received a phone call. “Your doomed if you investigate the drear forest house
case DOOMED!” the voice shrieked then silence.
By G.M.O
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