The Angel

By Lucy Jones.   38 Seymour Road, Exmouth, Devon, EX8 3JG  Age 13.

        “Yippee!” My sister shrieked avidly from inside the living room.  I gently put down the half eaten packet of crisps I had in my hand then speedily ran in through to the living room where my mother and  my sister sat getting the Christmas decorations out of their brown crinkled box.

        “Ohhhh!” I moaned. “I told you to tell me when you were going to begin to put the tree together!”

        “Alright don’t make such a fuss of it, we’ve only just got started, come and join us now,” My mother told me, a visible frown imprinted on her forehead.  I walked over to the Christmas tree in an agitated fashion.  I gently picked up a glistening angel and popped it on top of the tree.  However, something looked different to usual, something had changed,  but I couldn’t work out what!  Maybe the smile had changed?  Yes it had. Instead of a bright and cheery smile, a sad and un-welcoming smile had taken its place.  And the eyes, they were thin and squinting, bearing a slight resemblance to the slits on a money bank.  They were no longer bright and happy like last years angel,  But the weirdest thing of all was that the dress, yes the dress, was a dark misty BLACK!

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        “What!” I screamed with a hint of annoyance in my loud tone of voice.  “What kind of an angel is that!” I shouted stressily at mum.

        “Really Terry your temper is outrageous these days!” She insisted angrily, her frown now deepening a little. “Your Aunt Meg gave it to us for a present.  I know, it’s well, a little peculiar and out of the ordinary but we don’t want to hurt her feelings,” She whispered to me.  I stood back to admire the freshly cut Christmas tree from the end of our garden.  It was beautiful, the silver balls glistened ...

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