Jasmine Rudd, Grade 6, Bangalow Public School
Merit in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition
"You wouldn't," I choke out. Shaddo stands over me, her gossamer wings flare out behind her giver her a new look - control. I thought I knew this girl, the girl that shines under the moon, her power refuelled by the gentle glow of the nights sun.
"Oh, but I would," Shaddo laughs, but her tone says it all. Something flashes in her eye, regret?
"Please no, Shaddo..." I yell, desperate, I stop though, transfixed by her eyes - the look - they make you want to run away, yet, they draw you closer.
no, no, no, Shaddo... But this isn't the Shaddo I knew, know, the night, the night is doing this to her.
Her lips, the colour of charcoal with a hint of ripe blood move as she starts to chant,
MARSEA LOKAY HUZWINDU SHARTA LOKA
My subtle and elegant wings droop and wither beside me, and, in a trance, I watch as the remnants of her spell flutter like fireflies. A golden stream of power swirl around me. This isn't death! What did Shaddo say?