Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal: 2019

Saturday, 31 August 2019

Thursday, 29 August 2019

It was at the hour at which the dorm had gone to sleep. All was quiet except the steady breathing of my roommates. I lay on my back staring up at the blank ceiling, mulling over today’s events. So my sister had been taken, the government is trying to control people’s minds and everyone is completely clueless. Either the world has gone mad or I have! It began this morning when my older sister, Shannon, started acting strange.

“Sammi,” she whispered urgently, “Sammi, wake up!” I rolled over, the sunlight piercing through my half shut eyelids as I looked at her. I was incredibly envious of her golden locks and perfect teeth. I was a red-head with braces. Yippee.

“Come on, there is something I need to show you.” I got up slowly, attempting to hide my curiosity. She had a box of fries in her perfectly manicured hands. She handed a fry to me and told me to eat it and tell her how I felt. Although I was slightly suspicious, I ate it anyway. As soon as it hit the bottom of my throat, I was overcome with drowsiness. The world swirled around me, slowly coming back into focus, but not as radiant as it was before. From the look on Shannon’s face, it was clear she knew that was going to happen.

My brain was just about to explode from weirdness at that point. Even remembering it now does my head in. But I fear for her now, what if she was shot..?

The gym echoed with the noise of thousands of hands clapping as the blood red curtains closed signalling the end of the assembly. But I could tell something was wrong. Even over the roar of applause, could hear angry shouts behind the curtain. My ears tuned in on one particular voice. Shannon. My heart thudded as I saw my sister emerge from the curtains, red faced and yelling loud.

“Everybody SHUTUP!!” I had never heard Shannon speak like that, much less sound so angry. The applause died abruptly leaving behind a sudden silence. “Lies! No more junk food! B.R.A.I.N! Slows you down!” She shouted in-between breaths. Two inhumanly bulky guards held her and clamped a cruel hand over her mouth, muffling her desperate cries. I heard a few snickers ring through the crowd. Everyone thought it was a joke. Was I the only one who saw the guns clipped to their belts? Why do high school guards need guns anyway? The gym emptied quickly and I caught the eye of my Uncle Gary - or Mr Foster as I had to call him at school. “Withstand,” he whispered as I passed him.

‘Withstand’ I pondered. Withstand what? What was going on? I hadn’t seen Shannon since the assembly. I hoped she was okay. I shrugged my shoulders and popped a cold leftover fry into my mouth. I immediately felt a familiar deliriousness. I remembered when Shannon came into my room that morning, acting strangely with her fries. Did that have some kind of connection to her tantrum at the assembly? I wondered, staring out at the dull horizon through the window, should I go talk to Uncle Ga- Mr Foster? I padded along in the hall of my mindless classmates. Slowly opening the maths office door, I peered inside to see Mr Foster in a meeting with someone. I was about to knock when I realised how uncomfortable he looked. This isn’t a meeting, I realised, its an interrogation. I slowed my breathing, closing the door softly, leaving it ajar so I could listen in.

“Why do you think I had anything to do with it!?” I heard Mr. Foster say

“The girl knows too much. Where would she get this information from?” I heard a gruff voice state.

“Please let her come back. I’ll vouch for her silence!”

“Oh trust me she won’t be spilling any more secrets,”

“W..what? What have you done with Shannon!?”

“Oh nothing,” I heard the gleeful smile in his voice, “She can come back soon, but she may be a little different.” I wasn’t comfortable with the way he said different.

“I hope to see no changes in my niece. She is a bold girl and I am proud of everything she withstands,” There was that word again, withstand, but what did it mean? The other man gave a slight raspy chuckle.

“Oh there will be no promises there,” I heard the screech of a chair and I ran down the hall as fast as I could, my heart beating fast. I stopped to take in a breath, stood up straight and started to walk, trying to blend in with the herd of people, when I bumped into someone. “Sorry,” I mumbled, not looking up. “Sorry,” they mumbled back. I looked up. It was Shannon! I pulled her into a massive hug.

“Are you okay? God where have you been! I have so much to tell yo..”

“Let go of me,” She squirmed attempting to escape my firm embrace.

“Sorry,” I let go and stood back to look at her. Something seemed different.

“What are you looking at!?!” She squawked, “Is it criminal to go grab some lunch!?” She held up a bag that smelt of cheeseburgers. I widened my eyes, realising.

“No!” I shouted, smacking the bag out of her hand, “You can’t eat that!”

“What is wrong with you!? Gosh you’re so annoying get out of my face!” She bent down picking up the bag, scowling at me. My eyes started to burn. I wiped a tear from my face. She had never talked like that to me. I ran to my room, hot tears now flowing down my face. I sat on my bed watching the sun dip into the horizon, still as bleak as it was every day. I grabbed a marker and wrote on my bed frame, the pen squeaked as I wrote in inky black ‘withstand’.

The End

Saturday, 24 August 2019

Death Playing the Violin - Drawing

Why not...

Thursday, 22 August 2019

Dessert Nuggets - Recipe

I’m sure you’ve heard of chicken nuggets, yes? Well what if chicken nuggets were turned into a dessert? Well it has been now. A friend of mine and I created this recipe from scratch so it is our pleasure to share this delicious recipe with you...

Makes: approx. 40 Nuggets
Ingredients:
• 100g Milk or Dark Melting chocolate
• 1pk (280g) Marshmallows - regular size
• 1/2 cup plain flour
• 1/2 t baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1/4 cup water
• 1/2 cup breadcrumbs
• 1/4 cup caster sugar
• 3-5 cups oil (vegetable or canola)

Method:
Step 1: Melt chocolate in microwave for approx. 20 secs (Note: if it’s not baking chocolate this won’t work, it’ll just burn). Stir until smooth and fully melted
Step 2: Take marshmallows and one by one using a fork, as much as you can, fully coat in melted chocolate. Set aside on a plate or board and allow the chocolate to harden at room temperature (if it is a hot day, you can put it in the fridge for 5-10mins)
Step 3: In a small bowl, mix flour, baking powder and salt together. In a seperate bowl, mix together the milk and the water. Slowly add the liquid mixture to the dry mixture and whisk thoroughly until there are no lumps. Small bubbles may form.
Step 4: In another bowl mix breadcrumbs and sugar together.
Step 5: Take the chocolate dipped marshmallows and one by one coat them in batter, then the breadcrumb mixture and then place onto a place or a board.
Step 6: (If you have a deep fryer use that instead) Pour oil into a deep saucepan, enough to make it at least 5cm deep (approx.) Heat on high until bubbling slightly. Add a drop of batter to the oil to test it. If it floats to the surface covered in bubbles, then it is hot enough.
Step 7: Deep fry the marshmallows. Don’t fry more than 3 at a time. Remove from oil using a slotted spoon. They will be cooked once golden brown
Step 8: Serve immediately.

Tips:
• Goes great with vanilla ice cream
• Be very careful when using hot oil, if you are not an adult, get one to help you. I wouldn’t advise making this if you are the only person in the house - just in case of an accident.

Copyright © 2019 Dessert Nuggets - Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Thursday, 15 August 2019

Pop Star Girl - Drawing

Made on the app Sketches

Monday, 12 August 2019

Free - Paragraph Story

I lay there silently, listening. Listening and observing. I heard the sound of water dripping from a tap slowly. I heard the metallic creaks and clangs of doors opening and shutting. If I listened closely I could hear the faint pitter patter of polished shoes walking the halls in a purposeful fashion. I could hear arguing too, but with all these noises, it was still somehow quiet. Peaceful, almost. I looked up at my narrow window wistfully, where a thin stream of golden sunlight poured out. I felt a strong pull inside me. A longing to be free again.

Copyright © 2019 Free - Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Friday, 9 August 2019

Little Geisha Girl - Drawing

Saturday, 3 August 2019

Lemon and Coconut Slice Recipe

Ingredients:

125g unsalted butter, melted, cooled

1/2 cup caster sugar

1 1/2 cups self-raising flour, sifted

1 egg, lightly beaten

1/3 cup lemon curd

Coconut topping:

1 egg white, lightly beaten

1/2 cup caster sugar

1 1/2 cups desiccated coconut

Method:

Step 1:

Preheat oven to 180°C/160°C fan-forced. Grease a 3cm-deep slice pan. Line base and sides with baking paper, allowing some overhang

Step 2:

Place butter, sugar, flour and egg in a bowl. Stir to combine. Press into prepared pan. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until light golden.

Step 3:

Meanwhile, make coconut topping. Place egg white, sugar and coconut in a bowl. Stir to combine.

Step 4:

Spread lemon curd evenly over slice base. Sprinkle with coconut mixture. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until coconut is golden brown. Cool in pan. Serve and enjoy

Wednesday, 31 July 2019

Spaghetti Pirate Girl - Drawing

Sunday, 23 June 2019

All Things Wednesday - Drawings

Saturday, 22 June 2019

Apple Cinnamon Custard Cake Recipe (Gluten Free)

Ingredients:

Butter (to grease)

3 Granny smith apples - cored, leave skin on (about 500g)

2 Oranges

1 1/4 cups (185g) GF plain flour

1 cup (220g) raw or caster sugar

2 tsp GF baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

1 cup (250mL) Milk (I use Lite but it’s interchangeable)

4 Large eggs (2 whole, 2 yolks)

2 tsp Vanilla Extract

2 Tbs GF plain flour (extra)

2 tsp Cinnamon sugar (you can mix caster sugar and cinnamon if you need to)

Method:

Preheat oven to 170°C (338°F). Line rectangular pan with baking paper (approx 8cm deep, 30cm long, 18cm wide)
Cut each apple into 5mm thick slices (cut into 8ths and then thinner slices). Juice both oranges. Do not discard peel, grate it finely until you have approx. 2 tsp. Toss apple slices and orange juice together in a medium bowl and set aside.
In a seperate bowl (large), mix together the flour (not including the extra flour), sugar, baking powder, salt and cinnamon.
Then add the milk, 2 whole eggs, orange rind, and vanilla to the flour mixture and make sure there are no lumps. Try not to over mix.
Transfer 1 cup (250mL) of the batter to a seperate bowl and add the extra flour. Stir to combine.
Add 2 egg yolks to the remaining batter (the one without the extra flour) and combine. Mix in the apple mixture.
Spoon the apple batter into prepared tray. Even it out with a spatula and push down the apple slices so the batter covers them. Pour reserved batter evenly over the top.
Sprinkle cinnamon sugar over the top evenly. Bake for 55mins or until golden brown. The middle of your cake will be of a custard-like texture.
Serve warm or cold.

Tips:

Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice-cream
If you want, you can add some orange liqueur to the apple and orange juice mixture

Note: This is an adaptation of a recipe I found in a Coles magazine.

Wednesday, 19 June 2019

Thalia - Drawing

This is a drawing of Thalia from the novel I am writing (see previous post)

Tuesday, 18 June 2019

Embers - Teaser

Here is a teaser for a teen fiction novel I am writing. Any feedback is greatly appreciated...

I awoke to the rich smell of warm coffee. I wiped the gritty sleep out of my eyes and staggered to the kitchen. My flatmate, Stacy, was cooking brekkie and whistling a sweet tune. Stacy and I didn’t really know each other before we moved in together, but we’re trying.

“I made you food,” she sung out.

I smiled at her but grimaced on the inside. Stacy was good at many things but cooking was not one of them. Stacy left for her mid-morning shift at Macca’s and I started making myself a breakfast that was actually edible. I was thankful that I didn’t have to work on weekends. The doorbell rang, loud and clear, reverberating throughout the house. I opened the door, only to be tackled with a hug, instantly greeted with a whirl of dark hair and the scent of fresh strawberries. I awkwardly patted my overly-excited sister on the back as she squeezed me tight, emptying the air from my lungs, which was not very helpful considering I have really bad asthma.

“Breathe...need to... breathe!” I choked.

“Oh sorry, I just missed you so so much!” She said, talking too fast as usual, and thankfully releasing me from her loving death trap.

“I missed you too, B, why didn’t you tell me you’d be in town?”

My older sister, Bianca, loved to travel and she hardly ever stuck to one place. I’m honestly not even sure where she lives anymore. We sat down and had a coffee each – hers decaf – and she told me about her travels in Spain. The pictures were stunning. She left, saying she had an errand to run, telling me she’d call later, although she was always too busy to. I didn’t blame her though, that was just her lifestyle.

I went for my morning run, blasting Bowling for Soup as loud as my earphones would allow. It took me a while to notice I was being followed. I started running faster, but so did they. I changed my path, cutting across the park, so did they. I paused my music but kept my earphones in, pretending to have not noticed them. I faked getting a text so I could look behind me in the reflection of my phone. It was a girl, about my age, maybe slightly older. Like me, she had fire-red hair, which was poking out of the hood of her grey jumper. I found that kind of strange, considering it was like forty degrees outside. I think she saw me looking at her because she stopped. I whirled around to face her, she was closer than I thought she was, only a few metres away.

“Are you following me?” I called. Why not be direct? No point in hiding. I wasn’t scared of her, although I probably should have been.

She nodded her head silently. She then gestured for me to follow and turned on her heel, assuming I would too, and I did. I’m not quite sure why I did, she could have been dangerous, yet I followed her blindly anyway. After what seemed like forever, with her walking way too fast, I caught up to her, puffing. The only reason I had managed to catch up was because she had stopped. She stood there, blankly facing a house I didn’t recognise. I stood there, still out of breath, wondering if she would speak – if she could speak. And finally she spoke.

“I’m Thalia,” she said, still facing the house, which freaked me out a little.

“Um...my name’s Jasper,” she wrinkled her nose at that, “It’s a girls’ name too you know,” I often had people give me funny looks when I told them my name.

“It’s not that. I have a lot to explain,” She was still facing the house.

“So are we, like, going to actually go in, or just stare at it for a while? You know admire some architecture. Wow I love the stonework don’t you?” I asked sarcastically.

She turned to me, looking unimpressed with my attempt at humour.

“We’re waiting,”

“For what?”

“Not what, but who.”

“Who?”

“Him,”

“Him?” I was clearly getting nowhere with this girl.

“Yes. Him. He will come,”

“When?”

“Soon,” She smirked, knowing she was being incredibly frustrating. I folded my arms, giving up on conversation. The mysterious ‘him’ arrived shortly, ‘him’ was a young man, older than me, dressed in a long black trench coat. You know, just your typical summer everyday wear. He beckoned us to follow him into the house. The air was stifling and I longed for my inhaler which I had stupidly left at home. He led us to a long hall with a large wooden table in the centre. The table could easily seat 30, but it was empty.

Thalia sat at the head of the table and the guy in the trench coat disappeared. She had swapped out her hoodie for a black leather jacket, although I didn’t see her do it and I wasn’t even sure where the jacket came from. I could now see her face properly. She looked astonishingly like me, pale skin and green eyes – though they betrayed no warmth. Her hair was much shorter than mine and she didn’t have glasses but otherwise she looked just like me. Oh that is except for the fact she had a nasty looking scar down the left side of her face, narrowly missing her eye. The cut looked like it happened a while ago as it was thin and only slightly red. I looked away quickly, I didn’t want her to think I was staring, although I sort of was. She gestured for me to take a seat, and I did, keeping 6 or 7 seats between us. She had her hands clasped together and her elbows leaning on the table. She gave me a thin smile and took a deep breath before speaking.

“So you’re probably wondering who I am, why you’re here and what’s going on?” her voice didn’t match her face. She sounded like a business-like lady in her 30s. But she only looked about 19.

“Uh yeah that just about sums it up,” I wasn’t keen on sitting still so I grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl in front of me and started tossing it in the air and catching it. She looked at me disapprovingly but I ignored her.

“Well, Autumn, we have a lot to discuss don’t we. Have a cookie,”

“A cookie? Autumn?” Ignoring my questions, she clapped her hands twice, making me jump – which gave her a satisfied smile. The trench coat guy appeared as quickly as he disappeared before holding a tray of what looked like chocolate chip cookies. Although based off the host, they were probably just raisins. I picked one up, inspecting it apprehensively but didn’t eat it. I was always taught to never eat food from a stranger, then again I was also taught not to follow a stranger home and go in their house. Thalia nodded at me encouraging me to eat it I took a bite. Thankfully it wasn’t poisoned or anything but it may as well have, it tasted like Stacy made it.

“Mmm yummy,” I faked a smile, swallowing the cement-mix flavoured cookie.

“That’ll be all, Erik,” Thalia said sternly, the trench coat guy must have been Erik since he left as quick as a flash, before I even had a chance to say thank you for the cookie – although it was horrible.

“So um, nice cookie and all but who are you? And don’t just say Thalia,” I rolled my eyes, expecting only as little information as possible as her answer.

“Okay then. I guess there’s no point beating around the bush. I am your sister. No sorry, not your sister that’s wrong, sorry. I’m your twin.” I sat there gaping at her. Then I shook my head in disbelief.

“No you must have it wrong, Bianca is my sister. She’s my only sister.”

“No, Autumn, I’m your twin. I know this doesn’t make any sense right now but it will,”

“Ha! That proves it! I knew I wasn’t imagining it before. You keep calling me Autumn. My name is Jasper. J A S P E R,” I said each letter slow and condescending like I was teaching a two year old to spell.

“No, it was Autumn, I mean it is Autumn, I...ugh!” She threw her hands up in exasperation and touched the bridge of her nose like I was giving her a headache. I should’ve been the one with the headache; she was making absolutely no sense!

There may be more to come of this novel. Note: I own this story and all the characters in it, please do not copy it.

Monday, 3 June 2019

A Candle - Drawing

A candle loses nothing when it lights another 🕯 Sorry I’ve posted two drawings in a row now...

Disclaimer: I didn’t come up with the quote, someone else did so credit goes to them

Monday, 27 May 2019

Little Pig - drawing

Sunday, 26 May 2019

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

I just wanted to share this amazing YouTube channel and website. A man by the name of John Koenig has been writing and still is a dictionary of words that describe feelings that we don’t quite have words for yet.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDetdM5XDZD1xrQHDPgEg5w

https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/

#takeaphoto - Poem

Twitter

Take a photo, purse my lips,

Caked in make-up, hands on hips

Tinder

Maybe if I change my hair,

Would somebody start to care?

Tumblr

Am I supposed to starve myself?

At least I’ll be pretty, forget my health

Facebook

I check everyone else’s wall

I just want to be thin and tall

Flickr

I try so hard to act cool

But I always end up being a fool

Does it matter if I post?

I’ll be stuck on here, a living ghost

MySpace

Will my appearance satisfy others?

Am I good enough for magazine covers?

Snapchat

Don’t you see?

What you show, it’s ruining me

Twitter, Tinder, Tumblr, Facebook

Obsession? Delusion? Reality?

Is it just a quick look

Flickr, Pinterest, MySpace, Snapchat

Safety? Security? Privacy?

You deserve better than that

So if I take a photo,

And purse my lips,

Caked in make up,

With hands on hips

Will I be happy?

Thursday, 23 May 2019

Broken Mirror - Drawing

In relation to the parable...

Disclaimer: Although I drew this (not traced), this is based off a drawing by Georgina Liliane Jurd

The Parable of the Looking Glass

In a great but empty kingdom there was a king. All day and every day he would stare into into his looking glass, muttering to himself “I'm handsome, I'm so handsome!” One particular day, one of his servants entered the throne room. The king, busy telling himself how handsome he thought he was, didn't notice the servant until he spoke “Your highness, your wife has fallen fatally ill. There might not be much time left, do you wish to visit her?”

“Shoo, can't you see I'm busy?”

“Uh, yes your highness but your wife…”

“Do you wish to be beheaded?”

“Uh, no,”

“Then begone.” The servant scuffled away. “Wow, you're handsome and tough,” he smiled at his reflection.

“Your highness,”

“What do you want now?!”

“Um, your wife, she's gone.”

“Okay whatever go away, I'm busy,”

The very shocked servant edged away from his monstrous king.

A year passed by.

“Hmm I am so handsome,” the king thought out loud to himself, “ I wish others could see my handsomeness. Everyone would be so jealous! Ooh! I have an idea, I'll have a ball! My lovely wife and I can sit atop our golden thrones, my handsome face for all to see!” The King called for his servant, and he came running in so fast he almost tripped over.

“Do be less clumsy would you?”

“Uh, yes you highness,” His servant said, taking an awkward bow.

“Go get my wife. I wish to have a ball!” The king said with a delightful clap of his ring-masked hands.

“Uh, your wife is gone,” The servant replied with a gulp.

“Excuse me?”

“Your wife passed on a year ago,”

“What!? Why didn't you tell me!?”

“Uh, I did your highness,”

“Nonsense, as if I wouldn't remember something like that!”

“Uh, I am sorry. Maybe you.. uh..didn't hear me?”

“Hmph,”

“We can still have a ball if you want. In honour of deceased royalty. I am sure the Queen would like that,”

“You..You just go. I..I'll think about it.” The servant bowed and left. The king looked back at his looking glass, and somehow he didn't look or feel as handsome any more. His forehead wrinkled with sorrow, he tried pushing the wrinkles away, but it was no use. There were
shallow darkly coloured pockets under his eyes. His sand coloured hair stuck out awkwardly making him look like lion. However he was not a strong brave king of the jungle, but a weakened and cornered lion that had been battered badly. His eyes were bloodshot and watery from his tears of woe and hate. He was ugly, his face a reflection of all his heart was.

Copyright © 2019 The Parable of the Looking Glass - Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Tuesday, 21 May 2019

Blue Haired Girl 2.0 - Drawing

I made this drawing on the app ‘Sketches’....

Monday, 20 May 2019

Gliding - Paragraph story

I stepped onto the smooth surface gracefully, the cold air stung my cheeks and filled my lungs. I drifted forward slowly and continued to glide on blades of steel. I watched as my rippled reflection followed me around the rink. I was cutting through the air, zipping right and left at a ludicrous speed. One wrong move and it would end in disaster, yet I felt a strange sense of security. The ice was cold and smooth to the touch as I lowered to let my hand trail through the thin layer of icy water. It was not a malicious or vile cold I felt. It felt like an electric shock, sending pulses of energy through my body, causing another burst of speed. Fat drops of water from the leaky ceiling splashed on my head, adding to the cold that was already biting through my jacket. My lungs ached and begged wanting to slow down and enjoy the summer warmth outside the rink. But I didn’t care. I felt free. I was gliding.

Tuesday, 14 May 2019

Little Cheeseburger Girl - Drawing

Thursday, 21 March 2019

Slumber - Paragraph story

It was the hour at which the house had gone to sleep. All was quiet. I lay on my back staring at the blank ceiling. The street lights faintly lit up my room. I could vaguely see the shapes of furniture; a bookshelf, a desk and my computer, charging, blinking a green eye. I could hear the soft whirr of the refrigerator and my own steady breathing. I rolled to my side to be met with my digital alarm clock, lighting the room with a dull blue glow. 2:47 am it read. I sighed a silent sigh and hummed a sweet lullaby softly to lull myself to sleep. Soon the world was dark and I was at a peaceful slumber.

Thursday, 14 March 2019

Bacon and Eggs Drawing

Cute Bacon and Eggs Drawing...

Thursday, 7 March 2019

Home - Paragraph Story

The faint smell of smoke filled my lungs and ash fell in specks of pitch black in my hair. The flames danced in the glassy reflection of my eyes. I smiled and I put my hands near to the fire and was filled with a welcoming warmth. The sticky marshmallow dangerously threatened to fall off my skewer and be consumed by the crackling hearth. I could hear the soft sound of a guitar and my friends and family singing to my delight. I laughed at the way we sang out of tune, but it still felt like home.

Copyright © 2019 Home - Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Thursday, 28 February 2019

Drawing - Little Red Riding Hood

I drew this in relation to my poem and the script, I felt I had a bit of a theme at the moment so why not...

Disclaimer: Althought I drew this myself (Not traced) it was based off a drawing by DAV-19 (Anastasia) on DeviantArt.

Saturday, 23 February 2019

Lady Sweetie-Pie - Script

I wrote a short story in the form of a script, Enjoy 😊

Cast list:

Crimson Rouge (A 13-14 year old girl who adores her granny)
Lady Sweetie-Pie (A dangerous criminal that is undercover)
Granny (Not your average grandparent)
Fluffy (A kind wolf)
Tim Berr (A furniture maker)

Script:

(Crimson skips along the stage. She has a worried look on her face. In one hand she holds a picnic basket and in the other she holds a piece of paper with lots of writing on it. She is about 13-14 years old. As she skips, Fluffy the kind wolf pops out in front of her. She is not startled)

Fluffy: What are you worried about?

Crimson: Oh hi Fluffy, nice to see you again. I am worried because I need to hand in this assignment for school AND deliver this basket to my granny.

Fluffy: If you want, I can take the basket to your Granny, and you can hand in your assignment on time.

Crimson: (beaming) Really? (Fluffy nods) Oh that is ever so kind of you! (She hands the basket to Fluffy) Her house is just thought there (Points).

Fluffy: No problem, off you go now (Crimson skips off)

SCENE 2:

(Fluffy stands outside a small cottage in the woods. He knocks at the door and there is no reply. He peers through the window. Through the window he sees Crimson's granny. Granny is knitting. She holds up what she is knitting so she can see it. It is a navy blue domino mask. She removes the needles from the mask and puts it on. Startled, the wolf steps back, still unnoticed. On a tree nearby, there is a wanted poster; WANTED: Dead or Alive: Lady Sweetie-Pie. And there was a picture of an old lady in a navy blue domino mask... The wolf realises that Crimson's granny is Lady Sweetie-Pie. Lady Sweetie-Pie notices the wolf is there.)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Hello again Fluffy, brought me some sweets have you?

Fluffy: I...Uh...Better get going (Stumbles backwards)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: (Smiling a sickly sweet smile) But you just arrived (Steps outside)

Fluffy: No, I really must leave...now

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Well at least give me my basket full of....treats

Fluffy: (Peers in basket discreetly. It is full of money, most likely stolen) No I don't think I will

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Well I didn't want to have to come to this but... (Pulls a gun out. Wolf runs and hides. In the distance, he can see someone holding a chainsaw. He runs towards to person. It is the furniture maker, Tim Berr.)

Tim: Hello Fluffy, why are you running?

Fluffy: (Out of breath) She....Lady.....Sweetie-Pie....Gun...I die.....Crimson.....HELP!

Tim: Wha... (A bullet flies past his head) Oh (Lady Sweetie-Pie comes into view. She is about 60-70 year old. She wears an old grey cardigan over a cream blouse. She wears 3/4 length dark grey pants. Her hair is grey, flecked with white and tied up in a messy bun with leaves and sticks jutting out of it. She wears her navy-blue, woollen mask. Her face is old and wrinkled but there is a wild and crazed look in her eyes. She is still holding her gun. It is lowered, but ready.)

Fluffy: Please don't shoot (Puts hands up in surrender)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: You will make a nice fur coat (She shoots the wolf right between the eyes and he collapses to the floor, dead)

Crimson: (off stage) Was that a gunshot? Miss I think my granny is in trouble, do you mind if I leave early?

Teacher: (Off stage) Not at all, off you go

Tim: Oh my! (Lunges at Lady Sweetie-Pie with his chainsaw. Lady Sweetie-Pie steps out of the way, unharmed.)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: It would be a shame to be rid of you. I do admire your furniture. I will spare you on the account you forget any of this ever happened.

Tim: I...Uh..Yes..I have already forgotten (he scratches his head nervously)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Very well then (Picks up the basket the wolf dropped and totters off, leaving behind a very stunned Tim.)

SCENE 3:

(We are back at Lady Sweetie-Pie's cottage. Through the window we see her all cleaned up with the basket at her feet. She is no longer wearing the mask and she is knitting something red. Crimson skips up to the door and knocks rhythmically.)

Lady Sweetie-Pie: (In a frail voice) Come in my dear (Crimson walks in.) My how tall you have grown!

Crimson: (Very concerned) Are you okay granny? I heard gunshots.

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Ah yes, I heard that too, that must have been the hunter down the street

Crimson: And did Fluffy deliver the basket?

Lady Sweetie-Pie: (Smiling sickly) Yes he did (Patting the basket gently)

Crimson: What was in the basket anyway?

Lady Sweetie-Pie: (Still smiling sickly) A real nice treat

Crimson: Um...Okay...

Lady Sweetie-Pie: Speaking of treats, I made you this lovely red coat made of the finest fur...

Curtain closes

THE END

Copyright 2019 Lady Sweetie-pie - Jasmine’s Not-so-secret Journal

Thursday, 21 February 2019

First Post For 2019

This is my first post for the new year; 2019. I hope to be posting a lot more this year.