What do you think of this story?

Long, blonde hair billowed in the wind. A young girl’s head was buried in a book. This afternoon seemed like every other. Her delicate pale fingers silently turned a faded page. Nature’s chorus was the only sound to be heard.

A sudden shriek from a crow caused the girl to jolt her head upwards. ‘Blasted creatures!’ She thought to herself. She placed her book on the stone tomb of which she sat and looked around. She was used to the grave and grimness of the cemetery. It was where she felt most at home. She looked around, and almost immediately, her eyes surprisingly cast upon a new addition. On the horizon she could see a grey, still silhouette. She picked up her favourite novel, and began pacing towards the water feature surrounding it.

She looked over to the island sitting in the middle of a lifeless pond. She dipped her bare foot into the murky pool. A chill climbed up her spine. She smiled. This was going to be her own mini adventure! And thus, she hauled up her pinafore above her ankles, and pulled back her bonnet. She waded through the sludge to the dry land in front, careful not to dampen her book.

She stood opposite her discovery. From the knee downwards, she was soaking. She hadn’t thought about the deepness of the pond, or the consequences of her brief journey. She padded towards the figure, grass tickling her toes. She hummed a tune, and flicked at the huge white statue. It was the figure of a woman, sitting and reading. She was dressed in clothes very similar to the child. She stepped back to admire the beauty. As she turned to leave, the statue seemed to flinch. The girl gasped in shock as it inhaled deeply. The girl began to panic.

“May I help you dear?” The stone lady inquired. She actually seemed rather kind, and not at all monster-like as the girl suspected.

“Umm, n-n-no.” She whimpered and spun round to run off, but before she could the statue spoke again.

“Don’t go … please.” The creature looked melancholy. “It is so very lonely on this island.”

The little lass shook her head in pity and wandered back towards the small lake. She had wanted an adventure but this was too much.

“If you stay, I shall tell you a story.” The statue offered.

The girl sat down on the grass and accepted the statue’s proposal. She liked nothing more than a decent story! And so, the tales began.

After that meeting, almost everyday, the girl visited her secret story teller. It spoke of damsels, dashing knights and impossible places. All the same, both of the two seemed happy in each other’s presence. That is, until one day. The girl had grown curious about the living sculpture. Why was it here, in the cemetery? How could it speak and breathe? After must thought and consideration, she eventually plucked up the courage to ask it. Her grandmother did always say “If you don’t ask you will never get.” When the girl did, the statue seemed very quiet. It wouldn’t answer her questions. This frustrated the little girl, and so she continued querying the statue until it couldn’t take it anymore. And eventually it snapped. Literally.

Marble hands wrapped around the child’s neck. Tighter and tighter until she began to choke. Her lungs felt as though they were filling up with cement. She couldn’t move her feet, they were stuck deep in the ground. Her arms seized up and her neck became stiff. Her skin remained pale, but began to harden. Crag wings emerged from her back. Nothing more than a hoarse whisper wheezed out of her mouth. But she was screaming on the inside. And then, inexplicably, the creature that once told the child tales of wonder became sand.

A stone angel stood forlorn on the horizon. Dust and other particles danced in the wind. A crumpled ‘missing’ poster rolled past the statues feet. And as ever and always, the little girl was home.