iAmGabi

The creative product of author Gabi Goffman.

Sleepy Town
by Gabriela Goffman, age 9

     As the taste of warm daffodil milk drifted me into a royal sleep, I saw that the

weather was just right. I lay on the cool grass outside my castle, gazing at the gentle

white clouds…and that was the last thing I remembered before I drifted into a sea of

sleep.

     The little night elves captured me, and took me to Sleepy Town, which is just northeast of

Lollipop Land, but not quite as nice. At the corner of Bunny Street, they took me to a

store and made me wear a nasty bunny suit of pink flowers and wrinkly sleeves. I had a

twitch in my eye, but a smile on my face because that was the only thing that made the

outfit cute. Wearing that bunny suit in hot weather was torture, I tell you. Torture!

Torture! My royal fingers shook.

     They dumped me in a field of sleeping people. Daffodils grew out of their ears, and tiger

lilies grew out of their mouths.

     “This one’s been here for a hundred years. This one for a thousand,” the night elves cried

happily, pointing to the sleeping people.

     “We want you to sleep for a million years and on!” the elves cried in shattering voices as

they scurried away. “Queen of the Day Elves, you shall sleep here for a million years.”

     I felt squeamish in my stomach as I lay in the field of sleeping people, wondering how I

could escape. I decided to try telepathy to ask for help, even though I knew the terrible

King of the Night Elves, the ruler of Sleepy Town, would probably try to stop me with his

mind.

     My people, please save me as I have been royally kidnapped by the Night Elves.

They are not being so royal. They made me wear a hot, sweaty BUNNY SUIT! So, as

you can see, I am in royal mess.

     Nothing happened. I sat on the ground waiting for hours and hours, and then it hit

me: It’s time to fight back and not just sit around moaning.

     I decided to take a walk through the town. I needed to find a place with good reception so

I could telepathically call my elves again.

     My elves, please rescue me as things are not getting any royaller. I have walked

down the street, and I can communicate with you once more. Now do as you are told, and

soon I will be free. Now go.

                    From Yours Truly,

                    Her Royal Highness

     I stood on Lollipop Street, thinking about how to spell the word

“supercalifrajilisticexpealydocious.” You might wonder why an elf queen in my position

would think about such little things at terrible moments, but I had my reasons. You see,

this wonderful word was a password, and allowed my people to know it was I who was

speaking to them.

     There was only one problem. I couldn’t spell it, and I finally realized that when I had

crossed over the river to Sleepy Town, I had lost all my spelling memories. This was

horrible. My mind was a whirlpool of memories that had been flushed down the toilet. I

could not think of how to spell the word at all.

     I looked up in the sky and saw a cloud on the planet of Saturn. And then, the cloud

began to flash a message:

     “WARNING! CROSS BACK OVER THE BRIDGE! MEMORY DRAINING! MEMORY

DRAINING!”

     “I am losing my memory!” I cried. “I better cross back over the bridge before I lose my

whole brain.”

     But to get to the bridge, there were three problems. One, you had to eat an octopus with

forty tentacles. Two, you had to hug a shark. Three, you had to eat a chocolate bar…

with nuts.

     I was chewing on the nutty chocolate bar as the shark nibbled my ear when my elves

shimmered into the light.

     “You royally rock!” I cried, so glad to see them.

     And so, the day went on. The dark night had been defeated, and once again, there was

peace in the palace. And I had learned an important lesson: even though you’re royal,

you might not be treated royally, so you just have to depend on yourself and not on your

royalness.

 

 

 

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