just listen to the
Echoes
CHAPTER
1
The origins of Whisper Diamond
The sun shone merrily down on Whisper Diamond as she skipped along the path, kicking a stone. Whisper looked back at her dad and brother. They were lagging behind as usual. Not that that mattered, Whisper preferred to be in front of them anyway. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, Whisper is her name. It is an unusual name, yes, and the story of how her parents named her is unusual too. See, the day when her parents brought her home from hospital, Whisper disappeared from the house. Whisper’s mother, Angeline, tore back the blankets on the cot to find her baby missing. Angeline shrieked like a howler monkey. Whisper’s father, John dashed out of the bed to his wife. “Angeline, what on earth is this about!” He asked her. “My child you, idiot! My baby is gone!” Angeline yelled angrily back. “WHAT!” John screamed. “MY. CHILD. IS. NOT. IN. THE. COT!” John nodded, finally accepting that his wife was trying to tell him something. He rushed to the cupboards, searching among the many piles of clothes. “Not. Here,” He panted. John quickly padded over to the bed. “SHE WON’T BE IN THERE!” Angeline screamed. “NO, NOT THE BEDSIDE TABLES EITHER!” At this, John rushed out the room to look for his child. Angeline ate something (toast) before rushing out to help him.
Two days later, they still hadn’t found her. Don’t ask me how she survived that long. Maybe she has supernatural powers or something. Anyway, back to the story. It was actually John who found her. When he went out to mow the lawn, tired and defeated, he gave a yell that someone in Iceland could have heard. Angeline came rushing out. “There,” he whispered, pointing. His voice sounded ragged with defeat. Angeline gasped in surprise. Sticking out of one of the thickest boughs was a tiny little foot. “Darling!” Angeline shrieked. She raced toward the bough. It was too far above her head. John tried, too. He failed. Then, he brightened. John had an idea. Not that his ideas were any good. In the very small and cramped shed, several skeletons of failed inventions (a bunch of cogs and wires tied together) lay in crumbling remains. Not to mention the bits of wood from hundreds of broken $10 stepladders (Whisper’s mother stopped buying the $100 dollar ones after so many broke) . He grabbed one of the stepladders still standing and placed it under the tree. He used this as some more height. He jumped, hairy arms flailing, and fell down with a resounding crash. John tried again. Failure. Failure again. Failure once more. But the 5th time he tried, his hand went straight through the leaves and found grasp on the thick branch. He heaved himself up and his head went through as well. Just ahead of him, Whisper was struggling up a branch. She was crying and reaching out with fat little fists for a ball of-. Just a sec, readers. I need to think of a way to describe the object Whisper wanted so badly.
( Sorry bout this. I’m sure it won’t take long! )
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