new journal~~~~***~~~~~~****~~~~~~***~~~~~~
If you happen to ask anyone in the small town of Nuboolie, that happens to be in the middle of a huge, scary looking marsh, who the saddest little boy was, they would all point at little Timmy Norberry. For he was, in fact the saddest little boy there ever was, or ever happened to be.
Since the unfortunate day little Timmy Norberry was born, in the middle of the cold, snowy winters night, as all the tree’s leaned down their scraggily branches to scratch the windows of the cosy little cottage that Dear Mrs Norberry was in, his fate had in fact landed into the wrong hands. It wasn’t his fault, nor was it his dear mothers fault. It wasn’t even the fault of the fairy that was meant to be there, but was in fact stuck in traffic several miles down the road. It was, in truth, the mean little goblin that sat outside the window, giggling and cavorting as he took poor Timmy’s fate into his snotty, bumpy little hands and ran away with it into the depths of the trees.
As time went by, and Timmy grew into a boy, no bigger than a giant’s knee, he had bad luck wherever he went, for a goblin followed him with a sly evil grin. After a time, he decided it was best, to exclude himself from every game. From things that could bring his bad luck onto others, so he just sat and watched, with big sad eyes, as all of his friends played and laughed.
For many years he just sat and watched, until one day he just stoped. He hid in his room and drew on the walls. He drew on paper, bedspreads and more. He drew of all things, big and small; he drew off all things, real or not. For no matter how hard the goblin tried, he could not bring bad luck to the boy’s imagination.
But vile was the goblin’s heart, so he went away to plot and think, of how to get at poor Timmy’s happiness. And as he sat, among the mud and slime, the best place there ever was for a creature like him. A thought struck down, with lightning force. Singeing his hair and zapping him down. But, oh how evil the thought was to be, how shocking and dreadful it was for poor Timmy. What he would do, in the dead of the night, is take Mrs. Norberry’s socks and blanket. That way in the morning she will have caught such a cold, to leave her sneezing for weeks on end. But that is not all the goblin did. Oh no, his evil is much worse by far. He swapped the sugar for salt and fresh tea for mud; he curdled the milk and turned the cake into sludge. He ran around causing all types of mischief, disruption and mess. Then waited for morning, when all would be found, chuckling and snorting from under the sink, blocking the water with a terrible stink.
When dear Mrs. Norberry rose that next morning, sniffling and sneezing all over the floor, she walked into her once clean kitchen, and screamed. Watching from under the sink, the gleeful goblin gloated at his victory, before disappearing into a cloud of sticky black mess. Leaving Mrs. Norberry in the middle of his wicked disarray, yet as the goblin was sneaky and mean; there were things she would not know to clean. Sitting down on her wobbly chair, expecting a nice cup of tea to be there, yet as she raised it to unexpected lips, a sweet milky tea is not what she got.
But to the goblins dismay, his efforts were waisted. For all it did was feed Timmy's imagination. Laughing with glee, amusement and fun, he drew of everything, all the mischief he’d spun. So the goblin was once again, left to ponder on the mean things to be done, it was his job after all, to taunt and tease, sneer at and gloat. For what would the goblins father think if he were to find out he’d not? Oh what a terrible thought! The goblin cried as he cuddled his knees, when suddenly a tap from behind stoped his tears. A little green turtle, as cute as could be, looked up at the goblin and grinned with glee.
“I know how you can bring bad luck, to the boy; I know what you can do to make him cry. I may not be fast or sharp to the touch, but I do know a thing or two about luck.”
Suddenly interested, the goblin asked, “but how? I've tried everything I knew how to do; I've used every trick in the book of TO DO.”
“Ah yes you have, and more so than that” replied the turtle with a grin “but there are things, in your haste, you forget to see, you need to step back and watch like me. But my knowledge comes at a price, oh yes it dose, you’ll have to sneak into the wizards hut, and steal me a hat. But before you think of how easy this could be; you have to sit down and listen you see. What I seek is not any hat, it’s a magical hat and protected by spells, you get me that hat and ill give you the boy. “
Greed brimmed in the goblins eyes, and with in a flash of coloured light he was gone.
Now across the town in a cosy little hut, the wizard unawares, was munching a nut. Sitting and drinking his steaming hot chocolate, reading a book of Barry the Great. When behind him snuck the goblin with glee, but his stealth was betrayed by his stench degree. Caught by surprise the wizard jumped up and turned his lamp right into a frog. The goblin leaped with all his might, to the wall were the hat sat in plain sight. But the wizard was quicker by far, and trapped the goblin in a glass jar.
Some say in years that come past, that the goblin is still in that jar on the ledge, staring intently at the hat on the wall; of his prize he never got to enthral. Next to the jar sits a lazy green frog, which seems to light up when the brightness has gone.
As for Timmy, his bad luck came to an end the day a turtle fell from the sky, and landed in his big black top hat. One day the goblin may just escape, and come prowling on Timmy's luck once more, but that’s a tale for another time, maybe ill tell you when the lights have all gone, and your snuggled safely under the covers.
~~~~***~~~~~~****~~~~~~***~~~~~~
IF U ACTUALLY READ THIS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT. THIS PIECE WAS ACTUALLY EDITED BY A FRIEND, I DONT ACTUALLY HAVE THAT VERSION OF IT THOUGH SO ULL HAVE TO DEAL.
Artistic
Zeal
... im not telling you!!! *dramatic gasp*
Suffering
Pride
