petchy.

39 3 0
                                    

Petchkrin the peanut was born in the smallest corner of the Scroggin packet. He was always a goodhearted peanut and all his family adored him. His favourite nickname was Petch, no-one ever called him Petchkrin. As a young child he went to Peanut primary school just like the rest of peanuts his age. As soon as he went to school all his teachers saw he was a bright and humble student however amongst the students he was an outcast, he was bullied and teased. Everyone called him a teacher's peanut. He never dared to tell anyone how he felt because he was so afraid that maybe the other students would bully him more. So into the shadows Petch drifted. He tried to make it so that no-one would notice poor Petch. His life was miserable and he wished that his life would turn around. Unfortunately what he got was almost the exact opposite.

For the past week rumour had been flying around his small village that the dried fruit were planning on rebelling against the cruel rule of the Walnuts. This didn't worry Petch, he just cast the thought aside, he didn't think a war so very far away would affect his life at all.

How very wrong he was.

Late the night he heard a loud knock on the door. He ran to his mother and father's room first to tell them that someone was at the door. The second knock, harder than the first, made Petch wonder who could possibly be at the door at this time of night. With his father and mother by his side they walked down the stairs to see who it could possibly be. The third knock, the loudest of them all, almost made Petch jump out of his shell. The force of the knock, threw the door open revealing a Walnut soldier, marked with battle scars. He was dressed in full fighting uniform and had a clipboard in his possession. The clipboard had a large amount of writing on it, some of which Petch recognised as names of his village peanuts.

"The dried fruit have sparked a rebellion and every man over twenty in each household must come and fight with us" said the Walnut in a monotone voice, reading off his clipboard without looking up. 

The ScroniclesWhere stories live. Discover now