English IA2 Story

Introduction - Description of Setting (Part 1)

The air along Hazel Street was crisp and carried a subtle hint of wooden earthiness. A gentle wind sweeper through the suburban street, stirring up a sea of red and amber leaves that twirled elegantly in the air. As the leaved gently danced towards the pavement, the light, unburdened laughter of children echoed in the distance.

Along the suburban street, roof gutters overflowed with dense foliage and front lawns resembled mountains of russet, wilted leaves more than grass. Every house was the perfect image of autumn.

Except for number twenty-four.

Description of Setting (Part 2)

There, the gutters were lined with tangled threads of Christmas lights, flashing weakly beneath a thick array of withered leaves. The lights were faded and blinked sporadically, like they could no longer withstand the weathering of time. A battered wreath clung to the oak door, dulled by dust and countless strands of silky cobwebs.

Inside, a lonely tree stood in the corner of the living room, wrapped in silver tinsel and decorated with hanging, golden baubles. Christmas had passed months ago, yet under the tree, a single gift remained. A beautiful, red ribbon sitting on top as it remained untouched, never opened.

Hazel Street had moved on from Christmas, but Martha hadn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Description of Martha - Loneliness and silence

She sat by the window, wrapped in a pink woollen sweater that thinned at her elbows. Her face was a map of time, featuring prominent lines and wrinkles that came with age and the weight of past memories. The house was silent, interrupted only by a quiet creaking as she shifted in her wooden armchair. Though, She had long become accustomed to the silence.

Memories of Christmas Eve & Jemma

The last time the house had heard laughter was Christmas Eve. On that night, the warmth and joy Martha felt hadn’t come from the scorching fireplace, but from Jemma.

Jemma had arrived just on time. Snow lined her thin leather jacket and clung to the edges of her beanie as her cheeks flushed pink from the blistering cold. At the door, Martha had already been waiting as she passed a pink woollen sweater and a steaming cup of tea to Jemma. “Jem, you won’t live to see New Year’s dressing like that,” she teased, though any mother could tell that her words were more out of love and concern than reprimand.

Inside of the House - Jemma talking about home and memories

Inside, Jemma filled the house with laughter and chatter. Her voice echoed off the walls as she retold all sorts of amusing stories from her workplace. She made herself at home, slumping lazily into a creaky, wooden armchair. Though she hadn’t visited in months, none of it mattered. This was still her home and it always would be, as long as she held onto the precious memories of her and her mother.

Martha gives the gift and Jemma tells her to wait for tomorrow

Later, as the evening settled and the frigid, winter air grew colder, Martha quietly bent down, reaching for a gift she had wrapped earlier that afternoon. The paper was smooth and uncreased, with a bright red ribbon sitting perfectly on top. She held her hands out gently, gesturing to Jemma. But Jemma just smiled, a big grin on her face. “Not yet,” she said, tapping the box with a finger. “Tomorrow’s the big day, Christmas, remember? I’ll come by tomorrow morning.”

Twist - Jemma died, Martha in despair and Doorbell rings

But morning never came. Not for Jemma.

Everything went wrong after Jemma left that night. A drunk driver. An unexpected phone call. And then, despair.

From then on, Martha couldn’t leave behind Christmas. She couldn’t bring herself to tear down the last memories she had of Jemma, memories that were so precious to her. So, she waited. She watched from her window as months passed and the neighbourhood changed with time. No one had visited since then. Until today. The doorbell rang, sharp and abrupt, shattering the chilly silence that filled the house.

Martha longed to hear the doorbell ring once more and opens the door to a girl

The ringing sound was unfamiliar, yet Martha had longed to hear the doorbell ring once more, just like it had on Christmas Eve. She slowly rose from her chair, walking to the door as the delicate floorboards creaked beneath her slippers. Her fingers rested gently on the doorknob, the same way they had months ago.

She opened the door.

Dialogue, first meeting between Martha and Luna

A young, lithe girl stood on the porch, looking no older than twelve as she donned a fluffy, bright pink hoodie. She held a small rake in her hand, the plastic type that were designed for children and were too small to do any real work.

“Hi,” she chimed. “Mum said I should come over to help clean the leaves off your lawn. We just moved in and live across the street.”

Martha blinked. Unsure of how to respond.

“What’s your name, love?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly from disuse.

“Luna,” the girl replied, her hands fidgeting slightly with excitement. “Mum says its unpolite to let people’s houses be swallowed by leaves.”

Luna invites Martha to clean her front lawn leaves. She feels at ease and a smile creep

Hearing that, Martha let out a gentle chuckle. As she laughed, she felt a burden lift off her chest, causing her eyes to soften as she looked at Luna.  

“Swallowed, huh? I guess you could say that.”

Luna nodded. “Don’t worry, just follow me and we can clean it up. Together.”

For the first time in months, Martha stepped outside as she followed Luna to the front lawn. Her heart eased and her hands steadied as they dug away at the mountain of leaves, an uncontrollable smile slowly creeping onto her face.   

Martha takes down the Christmas decorations

After they had finished cleaning, Martha walked to the living room and crouched before the Christmas tree. She let out a deep, troubled sigh. Then, without quite knowing why, she reached toward the tree, grabbing the golden baubles and silver tinsel as she carefully stuffed them into a cardboard box. She walked to the front door, taking down the battered wreath as cobwebs stuck stubbornly to her hand. Then, her fingers trembled as she grabbed the beautifully wrapped present, placing it into an empty bedroom.

Luna waves at Martha, and Martha waves back

The air around her grew lighter as she sat back down in her armchair, looking out of the window. Seeing Luna wave from across the street, her gaze softened inexplicably and she raised her hand tenderly, sending a gentle wave back.