My friend Fern

13 year old Dawn is out walking on Dartmoor after a family argument. She twists her ankle and starts to think she will never get home (quite literally) but can the mysterious girl Fern help her or will she end up being just another Dartmoor legend?


3. The girl

After a while I became conscious of a small figure out the corner of my eye. I shook my head, telling myself I was just letting my mind play tricks on me, but I could barely quench the hope that was bubbling up inside me. However the silhouette was still there! I propped myself up on my elbow and took a good look at the girl. She must have been about my age.

she looked remarkably similar to me, she had a lighter version on my dark brown hair and instead of my brown eyes she had green. Her skin was so pale it was almost ghostly. She, like me, had a makeshift bandage around her ankle (her right one, the opposite of mine). “Umm, hi” I croaked (my voice was still a bit hoarse from crying). I was shell shocked at how similar she looked to me, at first glance we could almost be the same person if you didn’t look at our eyes and didn’t look too closely at our hair. I scrambled to sit up, feeling a bit embarrassed, I tried to keep my ankle from moving too much, but I still winced.

 "I'm Fern" She said shyly

 "Oh, oh, urmm Dawn, my names Dawn" I stuttered, still trying to get my head round the fact that, as well as looking very similar to me, she also had my great aunts name! Fern smiled and shook her head, "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, playfully, "No, I'm only joking, nice to meet you Dawn." Then she said my name again, thoughtfully, as if lost in a daydream "Dawn, such a pretty name, I always wanted to call my child that..." suddenly she shook her head, as if getting rid of the thought. I thought it would be best not to press the matter and decided to act as if she hadn't said anything. I nodded down at her bound ankle, “How did you do that?” I questioned. Fern shrugged. “Does it hurt, how did you walk here, where do you live?” I decided to stop my overload of questions even though more were threatening to bubble up and spill out of my firmly closed mouth.  However, Fern simply said “I’m tough”. I nodded; she was that all right, even if she didn’t look it.  Indicating further along the path with her head, Fern said “Well, it’s getting dark, shouldn’t you be getting back home? Come on, I’ll help you!” I honestly couldn’t express my gratitude; I wasn’t going to become a Dartmoor tourist attraction after all! Hooray!


A.N: Sorry for the long delay, I have been very busy lately but have finally had time to write a bit more. Not that it would matter to anyone anyway! I know I am TERRIBLE at writing, so PLEASE leave constructive criticism in the comments box. I would really appreciate it and take it into account! Thanks, acciomillie.

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