S H O RT S TO R I E S F R O M T H E G LO B A L C LA S S R O O M |
2014
R E D H O O D A N D T H E WO LF
M I C H A E L M I LLE R , YE A R 8
B R I T I S H S C H O O L O F C H I C AG O
In this story, I have used an isolated location – the woods – and a lonely, isolated girl named Eztli. There are
supernatural elements and an animal associated with the Gothic genre (the wolf), as well as an unnerving
atmosphere. There is an unexpected twist to the story, but I have left clues so you can try and figure it out. There are
unexplained reactions and events (the father’s death, the ritual with the needle, and Bacia’s reaction to blood) as well
as imagery. Because of the sentences above, I believe my story fits the Gothic genre.
1.
The little girl opened her eyes. In front of her was her father, in a wooden coffin with white padding. A single tear
rolled down the girl’s cheek. A woman with curly white hair slowly hobbled over to the girl. ‘It’s okay, Eztli, Grandma
Frigga’s got you. Let all those tears out.’ She patted the red hood on the girl’s head.
Just then, a woman with short blonde hair walked over to the grandmother–granddaughter embrace and pulled them
apart. ‘Frigga,’ the woman said, ‘I would appreciate if you left my daughter alone right now. Can’t you see she’s sad?’
‘And THAT is why I am being kind to her. Oh Eztli! There, there. There, there. It’s all going to be all right, okay?’
The young woman sneered. ‘Stop that. She needs to learn to be a lady. Abbott’s death is just a small … um …
predicament. We can’t do anything now, can we, Frigga?’
‘I guess not, Bacia. But she is not a lady yet.’
‘Just do the ritual and get it over with.’
Frigga nodded. She took a sewing pin from her pocket and pricked her thumb. Bacia sniffed in the air. Frigga slowly
swiped the blood onto Abbott’s forehead. Bacia stared at the blood. The cushion on which Abbott’s head was resting
slowly stained red. She sniffed at it, and then abruptly turned around. ‘Come on Eztli! We are going home. Say
goodbye to Grandma.’
‘Bye-bye, Gramma …’
‘Good-bye, sweetie,’ Frigga said, smiling a sad smile.
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