The Story of Roselyn Redheart

This is the story of when my twin, Roselyn Redheart, ran away from home. Roselyn is my sister. We both have short black hair and have big, emerald eyes. You might think me and Roselyn are very similar, but we are not. I am loving, positive and caring, (even if I do say so myself) and she is noisy, stubborn and extremely naughty.  Stern, vain, stroppy Aunt Pam sometimes gives Roselyn the stick! The stick is so nasty I don’t dare talk about it. Anyway, this is how my dear sister ran away. Uncle Ernie, a funny, eccentric and forgetful chap, was having an argument with her. Poor people, it’s not fun when you have an argument in our house… They were arguing on which TV show to watch. Which is a bit silly really if you think about it! I heard Roselyn and Uncle Ernie shouting at each other, and I knew something was up. Then my twin stomped out of the living room, marched up the stairs and slammed our bedroom door. Bang!

That night I lay in bed, but could not sleep: something was wrong. I peered into Roselyn’s bed and discovered she wasn’t there! I ran out onto the landing and flung my Uncle’s door open. Uncle Ernie sat up straight and yawned a big fat yawn. “ Rachael?” he exclaimed. “Whatever is the matter? Have you had a nightmare?”

“No, Uncle, Roselyn has gone!” I shouted, which woke Aunt Pam up. “ Whatever is going on?” she grumbled, still half asleep. Uncle Ernie and me explained what had happened, but surprisingly, Aunt did absolutely nothing about it! “Serves her right.” She murmured, and disappeared under the duvet. Uncle Ernie clambered out of the small bed, and put on his nightgown and slippers. “Where are you going, Uncle?” I asked. “ Where are we going Rachael? We are going to look for your sister.” And so we did. Uncle Ernie and me searched all around the neighbourhood, shouting and calling Roselyn’s name. But nobody replied. “Maybe she’ll be near the old

Factory.” I said. I dashed down the alleyway and came across some big dustbins. Inside one of the dustbins I could see two wide, scared eyes. I carefully took the lid of the bin and saw… Roselyn! I pulled my dear sister out and called for Uncle Ernie. Uncle came running and saw her. He swept her up into his cold, bony hands and cradled her like he used to do when we were babies. “ What happened?” He exclaimed.

“I don’t, don’t know.” Roselyn croaked. One moment I was sleeping in bed, the next I found myself in a dustbin.”

“Sleepwalking!” Uncle and me chorused together, like we had rehearsed it a million times before. Roselyn chuckled, I stroked her sweaty forehead, and Uncle Ernie carried my little sister back home and popped her safely into bed, and did the same for me.

Things were different after that, Aunt Pam wasn’t so grumpy, Roselyn wasn’t so stroppy, I didn’t try to avoid cleaning Fluffy’s cage. All’s well that ends well. 

I really hope you like my story!