St. James C.E. Academy, Southam

Have you seen the new game to help you with spelling on welearn? Spell Blast lets you practise your spellings. There are lists created by the game and I have also now loaded 6 lists for the spellings we have been looking at last week and this week. See if this helps you to practise. It might be that you can race each other like you have been with tables. Maybe this will help some people to enjoy practising spellings a bit more…

To find our spellings, click on the ‘Go practise click here’ link. Then choose the ‘shared’ option in the top right corner to take you to our spelling lists. I hope they should have been shared with you and work. Let me know if this isn’t working as I’d hoped.

At the end of the street, a small cottage stood looking almost deserted. A small ray of light shone out of the smashed downstairs window. Inside, a miserable old man named Scrooge sat on a moth-eaten chair. The loud church bells started ringing indicating it was Christmas Eve. Scrooge covered his long, pointed ears trying (and failing) to block out the sound of the jolly bells. All of a sudden, a cold chill filled the room. The fire blew out leaving Scrooge in complete darkness…

From the thin narrow hallway shone a blue glow and a loud clanking noise joined in with the bells. The bells stopped suddenly and there stood a blue ghostly figure…

The chains it carried scraped along the rotting oak floor. As it walked closer, Scrooge cowered under his blanket. Through a hole, he could make out the ghost was Marley.

The ghost’s pale white face glared through the hole at Scrooge. A mist covered the broken windows and the room temperature dropped below zero. Suddenly, a loud booming voice shot out of the long-robed ghost,
“Come out! I am only here to help.”

Slowly, Scrooge removed his blanket to come face to face with the terrifying ghost of Marley. His white silky hair was in the same style Scrooge had seen him in last. With an unforgiving look, his wrinkled face stared into Scrooge’s eyes.
“You still have time!” bellowed the ghost.
“F-for what?” stuttered Scrooge.
“You will see,” said the ghost in a gentle voice as he slowly faded away into the fire… The mist left the windows, the room became warm and the fire re-lit as the last particle of Marley’s ghost disappeared.

Beside the hearthside, Scrooge sat hunched and frowning bitterly in his moth-eaten armchair as the Christmas Eve bells echoed through his corroded home. Pathetically, Scrooge lurked around his compact fire in a hopeless attempt to warm his gnarled body; the thin gown draped over him was more holes than rotten material and his stubby toes already had frostbite.

As the last chimes struck, the candle frequently fluttered, sending chills down Scrooge’s scrawny spine. His thin lips chuntered, as if murmuring a prayer, when he saw a seeping paranormal glow enter under his locked door. Suddenly, an eerie presence circled him and a clanking sound penetrated through him.

The smell of oaty gruel subsided and a musty, dank odour overtook his nasal passages. The sound of the chains exploded down on the ruined landing. Scrooge was petrified: he sat frozen, his leg shaking and his hair stood on end. The dilapidated key turned in the dilapidated lock.

A flying chain shot through the doorway and a groan echoed, shaking the house and, in its raucousness, it sent Scrooge crashing against the crumbling wall. A dark, cobweb-covered figure stepped in, dragging link after link of rotting chain. His face crumbled, showing half of his slime-covered brain that moved and squelched disgustingly. His pale face managed a freaky, yet sweet, smile at the sight of his dear friend Scrooge.