The Girl and The Fox

"Lizzie? Lizzie, wake up!" whispered Isabella like a mouses squeak, cautious of not to wake her mum.

"What is it Isabella,” Lizzie sleepily asked.

"It's the fox again," Isabella exclaimed. "Lets go and investigate".

The racket of the bins was off again, like the mutt was trying to do an obstacle course and utterly failing. The last night, in the morning all the guts of the bins were scattered everywhere, and Isabella and Lizzie were forced to place them back as their mum was very lazy. Looks like that was going to be a job for the agonising next day, as well!

They tiptoed down the small, narrow stairs, found that their mum, sometimes being up all night, had luckily gone to her plain room and hopefully to her plain bed, and sneakily opened the front door.

The surroundings were, again, scattered everywhere. The forests in front the house was a hurricane of madness, all the plastic and cardboard were spread among the path into the trees, waiting to strangle the animals they call prey.

There it was. The animal they had been waiting for. Was it a huge blood red squirrel? No. It was a fox that had been injured badly with dried and new blood inseparable from her coat.

"What shall we do,” sobbed Lizzie sympathetically, her voice wavering.

"Look! There it is!” bawled a loud, familiar voice, interrupting Isabella's reply.

"Oh no! He's found the injured fox," Isabella exclaimed. "We have to stop him somehow!"

'He' was their horrid, unsypathetic, selfabsorbed neighbour, Nicolas. He had light blonde hair at the bottom, whilst at the tip, the keratin was grey. He always wore stiff, camouflage clothing, and some said his eyes changed their dull colour if he showed any emotion. He was always emotionless though.

Placed inside his crinkly, mouldy hand, was a colossal rifle.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaa. Don't hurt poor foxy, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," Theo wailed deafeningly, stumbling in front of the bloodied fox, luckily just under the sound limit that wakes their mum from her eternal slumbers.

The evil next door neighbour, nearly shooting Theo, harshly told him, “If you do that again, I won’t hesitate to shoot!’ After that, he and his tiny gang of friends stopped vandalising the red vixen and stomped in to their discoloured, old house. The house was said to be haunted, and anyone would see why. Their neighbour's house had one opening, that was usually chained and barred from the inside, he had no letterbox for some random, unknown reason, and he never came out of his house unless a real emergency or to poach innocent animals who had done no wrong. He did bird shooting for fun, and liked hunting the most rare of animals and watching them go extinct.

In the dull mist, Theo saw another fox. Older than the red one but exactly the same colour, but without a minuscule bullet wound.

"Look, there, another fox! Heeeelllllloooooo?", Theo said.

As always, he was annoyed that no one would ever listen to him. The girls just ran off at top speed. Theo suddenly saw a beautiful, young girl, and then, with no warning, found he was being whisked into the house by the pretty lady. She suddenly disappeared into nothingness like she was a magic trick. The girl had stunning red hair that shone in the moon light and was wearing a sparkly dress. The sequins reflected off the light on her dress to make her look like an angel with a slight glow. Her eyes were like huge, round chocolate buttons that you could eat in two seconds. Her features were delicate china, making one wrong move and it would snap her face into a million smitherines.

Theo stared around the bleak hallway filled with detailed drawings of old people in the family, gaping, but he could see no one. He wondered if he had finally gone blind early. How could he tell himself that the wondrous girl of his dreams was just in his vivid, unreal imagination? He knew what he had seen, but whenever he would tell anyone about anything, they never believe him. No one ever does! They also don’t listen to anything he says. Sometimes he started screaming to get their attention, other times, in shops, he just wondered off to a random store and pretended he was lost. He could never understand why his mother got so worried.

How could the dream girl just disappear into thin air? How could the injured, skin chapped fox just disappear into thin air?

The girls sprinted to get some fresh meat from the off white fridge and some soothing bandages, that were hopefully not used from Theo's 'fractured' hand, from the dark kitchen cupboard. They found out that, as Lizzie suspected, Theo's injured, tiny hand wasn't fractured, it was just badly hurt.

They made eternal deafening, banging and clattering noises in the kitchen but they still luckily didn't wake their mum's deep slumber.

They tipped their whole cupboard upside down, but no white bandages were in sight. Lizzie pivoted around like lightning and screamed an ear piercing screech.

"The fox, is in the house!" she stuttered, worriedly. Then, calming down rapidly, she stated "And it has the bandages".

"Lets put them on the poor, wounded thing, then".

The fox moaned horribly and loudly from the pain of the deep scar, and the tightness of the bandages.

"I don't like it. The moaning sounds, I mean. It is horrible. You're hurting him. Or her. You're hurting the fox!", Lizzie complained.

"Done. The bandage is on and the front door is closed... I think... maybe. Is it?", Isabella questioned worriedly.

"Oops", Lizzie replied. The girls turned around to ...