Running Away To London

Running Away to London

By Oscar

"The boy will be hung!" exclaimed the man in the white waistcoat in the middle of the court room.
"Or will he." whispered a mysterious dark figure. Later that evening, in an upstairs storage room, Oliver was sat on the windowsill. He looked out of the window and saw the same dark mysterious figure who was randomly seated in the court room, hurtle a rock with a note attached coming straight at him! SMASH! BANG! Oliver scrambled out of the way of the hundred mile an hour rock. He unravelled the crumpled paper note. It said, 'meet us in the dark alleyway at midnight.' This alleyway was next to the ramshackled old, filthy warehouse, Oliver knew it was because it was the deepest, darkest alleyway in Lincoln…

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DONG! The final stroke of midnight had struck. It was time to meet the mysterious duo in the deepest, darkest alleyway in Lincoln.Oliver crept through the dark, dusty corridors of the creepy warehouse. As he reached the back door, he saw a flash of light and heard a creaking footsteps. He ducked behind a randomly placed storage crate. "I hear midnight creepers." whispered the intimidating voice of Mr Bumble. As Mr Bumble crept past, Oliver shuffled around the crate, he waited until the candle light faded past the corner once he knew it was safe to, he quietly crept over to the back door.luckily, it was open. So Oliver open the door and made a dash to the alleyway.

Oliver reach the alleyway, and saw two dark figures leaning on the walls smoking cigars at the end of the alleyway, with a lantern positioned on the floor next to them. Oliver took a deep breath and approached the two strangers. When he reached them, they took their heads down and revealed what seem to be an old, homeless man and a short middle-aged man.
"Oliver I presume?" questioned the old man.
"Y...y...y...yes." stammered Oliver.
"I'm Fagin, and he's called Artful Dodger explained Fagin.
"We run a pickpocket gang called the midnight muggers." interrupted the Artful Dodger.
"So what did you want me for?" questioned Oliver.
"well you look like a quick, agile young boy…" explained Fagin.
"Yes." Oliver said.
"So we…" Fagin looked a Artful Dodger, "thought you would like to join?" Fagin asked Oliver. As the blabbered on bribing Oliver, although they were magnanimous towards him, Oliver thought about it, how he would escape the horrid adults of the workhouse, but also the consequences of being caught as a pickpocket. He had made up his mind. As they carried on talking, Oliver blurted out, "Okay."

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That night they travelled by horse and cart fifty miles to London. When they arrived, Oliver spotted everyone was dressed in posh clothes. They were dropped off near a market, where they walked past every stall and ended up at an old, dusty warehouse door. Fagin did some sort of secret knock.CREEK. The door opened… "Gang!" shouted the booming voice of Fagin, three suspicious characters emerged out of the void of the pitch black warehouse. "We have a new recruit."explained Fagin, "his name is Oliver." he continued, "he came from a juvenile house in Lincoln, so he will need some help looking around London,Bane you will show him around."

finished Fagin.

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