Year 6 are hard at work getting all their writing prepared for their end of year assessment but that doesn’t mean the enjoyment stops. They have been reading the amazing story, ‘Skellig’, by David Almond. This amazing story was written by Nell, from the perspective of Mina, one of the characters in the story (the story itself is written from Michael’s perspective).

An Extraordinary Day!

Blackbirds were singing their early morning songs , the sun crept over the pitch black silhouettes of the buildings and I was up early making owl noises to try and wake up Michael. Typical Michael never waking up, mind you if I went to that school I would want to sleep in every day. Finally, he walked out of his door and walked towards my house. The moon hung directly over us. Behind the wall the garden was flooded with it’s light. “What took so long?” I asked . Michael looked at me . Whisper prowled to my side and brushed himself against my legs. I wanted to solve mine and Michael’s argument, so I did.

“Don’t be angry, be my friend,” I said to him. He told me that he was my friend , but I was unsure about whether he was telling the truth or not. Michael and me lay back against the danger door. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I pushed the key into the lock….

I had no torch and neither did Michael and the light that came through the chinks in the boards was pale and weak. Michael and me blundered through the dark like a blind couple walking through the streets. We walked into the wall. We caught our toes on loose floorboards.

‘Skellig! Skellig!’ we whispered. There was no answer. I moved forward, tugging Michael to come as well. I could hear Michael’s heart thundering. I could seek the shape of Skellig’s body lying on the floor, but it was just blankets, the pillow, a plastic dish and a beer bottle rolling away from my stumbling feet.

‘Where is he?’ I whispered. ‘Skellig! Skellig!’

Me and Michael opened many doors, we stared past them into pitch black rooms.

I heard nothing but me and Michael’s breath, our own uncertain feet. We turned back to the landing and stumbled up the next flight of stairs. We gripped each others’ hand. I could feel Michael shuddering.

‘We must be more calm,’ I whispered, ‘We must listen like we listened to the squeaking of the blackbird chicks.’ Michael and me held hands and listened to the night. We heard the creaking and cracking of the house, our own breath.

‘You hear?’ I said.

‘I hear it,’ Michael whispered.

Gently, fearfully, we turned the handle and slowly pushed open the door.

Moonlight shone through the arched window. Skellig sat before it’s frame, bowed forward. We saw the black silhouette of his pale face, of his bowed shoulders. We didn’t speak, we didn’t dare approach him. as we watched, an owl appeared and perched on the windowsill. It bowed forward, opened it’s beak, laid something on the windowsill and flew out again. Skellig pressed his lips to the windowsill. He bent forward again. He chewed. I felt something magical was about to happen.

‘Come to me,’ Skellig whispered. We didn’t move.

‘Come to me.’

I tugged Michael again.

We met Skellig in the middle of the room. We stood there, the three of us, with linked arms in the moonlight. We started to turn. Skellig smiled at Michael and exhaled. Michael gagged. I was given a whiff of breath too. Beetles, spiders, a mix of 27 and 53. How could such a beautiful, unique being have an odour like death!?

‘Don’t stop Michael,’ Skelllig whispered. My eyes stared far into Michael.

‘No Michael,’ I whispered, ‘Don’t stop.’ We all smiled together. I was right, something magical was about to happen. It was like all three of us had moved into each other and had become one thing. For a moment, I saw Michaels’ feathery wings and delicate bones rising from his should blades. We were lifted into the air. We turned circles together through the empty air of that empty room high in an old house in Crow Road.

Then it was over. We found ourselves crumpled on the floorboards. Skellig crouched beside us. Typical spirits.

‘Go home now,’ Skellig squeaked.

‘But how are you like this now?’ Michael asked.

‘The owls and the angels,’ Skellig whispered. He raised his finger when we began to speak again.

‘Remember this night,’ he whispered. We walked out through the danger door into the night.

‘Did it happen to you as well?’ Michael asked me.

‘Yes. It happened to all of us,’ I answered. ‘It will happened again,’ I said, ‘Won’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Michael answered. It was then that we heard Michael’s dad calling.

‘Michael! Michael!…