The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: Twas a dark and Stormy Night...

You can click on the picture to see the words better 

(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi everyone,
(If you haven't read the other parts, here is: Part 1 and Part 2)
Here is the next part of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: The New School Master? that I promised...
I added in some historical things into it as well.
Anyway here is the story:

Staying with the farmer was a very interesting experience, I have to say. Though it was a rather odd one at times (and no I am not talking about the farmer, I am merely talking about the room I was staying in). The event, which I am going to tell you about, happened on a rainy night. The farmer’s family and I huddled around the fire. One of the windows had broken in the middle of the storm, and was letting the rain and cold air from the storm into the house (though the farmer was telling me that a ghost broke the window). The fire’s light flickered now and then, like it could go out at any minute. 

Isabella turned around to us and said, “How about we tell ghost stories!” 

I looked around the room, it was cloaked in total darkness except for the light of the fire. “I really don’t know—“ I began. but was interrupted by the farmer, 

“That sounds like an excellent idea…” he said, grinning. 

At that moment there was a sound of thunder, and then a flash of lightning, which brightened the room for a minute. Then the room went black again, except for the light in the fire. 

“Do you by any chance need more firewood?” I asked, trying to stand up, but the farmer’s wife told me to sit down again. 

“You're not going to get firewood in this weather, Mr.Robertson!” she said. “You should have some common sense.” 

I sat down again, on the hard wooden chair.  

“Anyway…” said Isabella “Who would like to begin?” 

The farmer sat up, “I would definitely like to.” 

“Alright then,” said Isabella. “Tell us your story.” 

“Well..I am sure most of the people here have either met or heard of Ichabod Crane. He was the school master before Mr. Robertson. Well, one night he simply vanished! It was after he borrowed my best Sunday saddle to go to a party…Now most of us believe, that he was spirited away by the Headless Horseman. And most of us know that the Headless Horseman was searching for his head, which he lost many, many years ago…“ 

I listened to the farmer tell his version of what happened to Ichabod Crane, and the whole story of the Headless Horseman, which I may add I have memorized every word of. When the farmer was done telling his story, there was an applause around the room… 

“Who would like to tell a story next?” he asked. 

Isabella stood up and said, “I would like to, because I have a story about the ghost in one of our rooms…” 

I had feeling that the room she was talking about was the one I was staying in…Of course, this wasn’t the first time, anyone had mentioned the room in which I was staying being haunted by a ghost (or rather one of the past school masters). 

Isabella continued, “So…one dark and stormy night, rather like this one.” then she paused, “I went to go to get an extra blanket, because my room was freezing. As I walked down the stairs, and into the extra room (which we kept for guests or for school masters staying with us) the door creaked open….” She paused, to be dramatic, then continued, “I walked into the room. As I walked I couldn’t help but feel as if someone were watching me. When I came to the bed, I carefully picked up the blanket and folded it, then began to walk out of the room…As I did, I heard the sound of a chair moving as if someone was going to sit down in it. I turned around and to my surprise, I saw a quill pen float in mid-air! And dip itself in the ink pot! And begin to write! Quickly I ran back to my room…and that is the end of my story, thank you, thank you!” she said, then sat down again. 

“Marvelous story, Isabella” said the farmer’s wife. 

“Yes, excellent indeed!” the farmer said. 

I sighed then said, “Quite excellent!” Though I was thinking, How am I ever going to get to sleep, now? 

Suddenly, there was a sound of thunder, it echoed through the whole house… 

“Who would like to tell a story next?” asked Isabella. Just then lightning flashed, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a figure standing next to the doorway. The next moment it was gone, and I was rubbing my eyes to make sure that I had not been dreaming. “Mr. Robertson, are you alright?” asked Isabella, staring at me. “You look as if you have seen a ghost!” 

“No…I’m fine. I must be really tired…” I said, but at the same time I was thinking, Did I really see a ghost?  

“Anyway,” said the farmer’s wife. “I shall tell my story now, unless Mr. Robertson would like to tell a ghost story.” she said. 

“No I’m fine!” I said, though I rather wish now that i had told a ghost story… 

“Well…I knew that would be the answer. Anyway here is my story. This is a story I never experienced myself, or even met the person who experienced it…But this story revolves around a village not to far from Sleepy Hollow. I, myself, do not know if this story is true, or not But I know that it happened in October around the time of 1778. The Revolution was still being fought, but the story took place in a town far, far away from the fighting. There was something else going on, a letter had been received by a young lady telling her that her husband, had died fighting in the war for independence…” she paused, “The very next day he was buried. A few months after that event some odd things started happening…” she described the story in so much detail, every scene, every movement of the characters, that it seemed so real. Even the ghost part of the story was so hair-raising, that for once I felt like I was in the story she was telling. And for once I actually fully listened to a ghost story, though I cannot put it onto paper. But I add in her last line in the story (as best as I can)...

“The windows opened with a rush of cold air, blowing out all of the candles. The room was so cold, that you could hardly feel your toes. A tall figure walked into the room. He was wearing a uniform that looked tattered from time. When he spoke, it sounded almost like a rusty hinge. He walked up to the girl, and took her by the hand. And almost as soon as he had appeared, he vanished into the night…The party resumed as it had before, but the guests were all shaken at the disappearance of their hostess…” 

The story ended and there were applause around the room. I couldn’t keep it in, “That is the best ghost story I have ever heard” I said, 

everyone stared at me… 

“But, I thought you didn’t like ghost stories,” said Isabella. 

“Uh…that’s because I don’t,” I said. “How could you possibly think I would like ghost stories?” 

Everyone shrugged…and then there was a silence, which was interrupted by the farmer’s wife, 

”Thank you, Mr. Robertson, I’m going to go get some blankets, so we can sleep here…” She sighed, then she left the room… 

Isabella and the farmer talked to each other. I myself went to go get some un-ghost related books. As I walked to the bookshelf, I thought I saw a shadow go by. It looked almost like a cat, but it was completely black. It turned a corner, then disappeared into the darkness. I walked back to the room with the books I wanted to read, then sat back down again. Isabella and her father had finished their conversation… “Um, I was wondering do you have a cat?” I asked. 

They both turned around, “No!” said the farmer, “We don’t have a cat. Where did you get that idea?!” 

“Um…I thought I saw a cat—“ I began. 

“Must have been your imagination!” he said, and the conversation was brought to an abrupt end.  

Later that night, I could not sleep a wink. I was constantly woken up by moans and groans, which echoed through the whole house. And at times I was woken up by shadows, and what I thought was the sound of foot-steps… 

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I hope you have a Happy Halloween!:)
Did you like the story? Do you have any favorite stories (or ghost stories)? 

Love, 
-Quinley

P.S. I will probably continue this next October, but since I am going to write a novel version of it (sometime) I decided I will post a few experimental stories (along with my normal stories) throughout the year (just not maybe in chronological order).

Autumn Drawings

Hi everyone,  I thought today would be a perfect day for a drawing post, 

here are the drawings: 

I enjoyed drawing this one, 

probably because of the colors. 

A quick drawing I did of Tauriel.

I like how her hair turned out.

I just wish I could have gotten her ears into the drawing.

This is a drawing of Demeter from Greek Mythology. 

A drawing of Persephone from Greek Mythology. 

It was fun to draw her eye shadow. 

A drawing of an elf character, 

I like how her hair turned out. 

This cat will probably become a character in 

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: The New School Master?  

A drawing of a girl dressed as a fairy, 

I like how her hair and wings turned out. 

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Which drawing is your favorite? 

Love, 

-Quinley 

P.S. I am going to post the next part of The Legend of Sleepy hollow: The New School Master? on Halloween (October 31st)!:) 

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: Mr. Robertson's side of the story

(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi Everyone!:) (If haven't read the first part you can read it here)
Here is the next part of my short story series,
I hope eventually to write a novel or novella version of it.
Anyway here it is:

It was a dreary morning when I rode up to Sleepy Hollow, the place those say is haunted by ghosts. I don’t believe that, of course, and the headless horse thing everyone is talking about is total nonsense! Has anyone ever seen him? Of course, several have reported sightings of it, though no one ever lived to tell the story. As I hear, “Brom Bones,” as he calls himself, has said to have been chased by the headless horse thing and won the race… The only reason why I’m not telling you the whole story is that, well, Brom Bones did not act very gentlemanly when I rode into town.  He mockingly laughed at me, and almost knocked me off my feet and said, “Oh another school master, I’m sure a ghost will get you.”

Of course, I ignored it, and walked away to the school house. As I walked I couldn’t help think of Mr. Brom’s words “another school master,” what did he mean by that? Sure, I had been appointed school master because Mr. Crane had “been kidnapped by the headless horse thing” as the townsfolk say, but I had a hard time believing that story. He probably found a place to be a teacher somewhere else…but that still didn’t explain why he had disappeared after the ball, leaving the horse, Gunpowder, behind, along with his hat. And how could have he gotten out of town without being noticed? As I was thinking 

I heard the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, and the sound of faint words in the wind. 

Suddenly, there was a a cry of “Don’t hurt us! Don’t give our head to the headless horse man!” I nearly dropped my books into a mud puddle. There in front of me were two girls, both wide-eyed and looking like they were about to scream. One had blond hair tied back into a long braid, and the other had brown hair that was braided into two braids. 

“What?” I said, everyone in this town was practically obsessed with this “headless horse thing” idea. “Why would I do that?” 

“Oh,” sighed the girl with brown hair tied into two braids. 

“Beg your pardon, but I am not a ghost. And I will not give your head to this headless horse thing!” I said crossly, 

“Actually, it’s the headless horse rid—“ began one of the girls. 

“Also, I am your new school master, you may call me sir or Mr. Robertson, and I will have no talk of ghosts in my class. Do you understand?”  I stated. 

The girls nodded and followed me into the school house. Once all my students had taken their seats, I began making sure that everyone was there for the class. 

“Amanda?” 

“Here” 

“Bob?” 

“Here” 

“Charles?” 

“Here” ….. 

Once I had made sure that everyone was there from the letters A to Z, I began class. 

“Nice to meet you all. I am your new school Master, Mr. Robertson.” I said. “Today we will be learning about—“ I began...A girl caught my eye. She was not paying attention to my speech. I walked over to her. “Miss, what are you doing?” I asked, snatching the paper from her hands. Surprisingly, it was a picture of myself, a very realistic looking drawing of myself, may I add. 

“J-Just d-drawing a-a  p-picture o-of  y-you, f-for o-our wall, B-Because w-We w-want t-to r-remember w-what y-you l-looked l-like b-before y-you v-vanish” said the girl, pointing over to a wall covered with drawings of the past school masters. 

“Well, we will have no drawing in this class” I said, and put the drawing in my pocket.. “No anyway, Lesson one mathematics”. 

A boy raised his hand, “Yes” I grumbled. 

“Well…you see our last school master taught us that, then he vanished, so can we skip math? Just so you don’t vanish?” he asked. 

“No” I said.  “And I reassure you, I am not going to vanish, or get chased by this Headless horse thing”. 

“It’s the headless horse man!” said the whole class in chorus. 

“Yes…that thing, now anyway what is 4 + 4?”…

————————— 

After the school day was over and it was time for my pupils to go home… I was packing up my things when there was a sudden knock on the door. I nearly dropped the book on my foot that I was putting into my bag. Instead I quickly put it on the desk, and ran and almost stumbled towards the door. I was greeted by the farmer and Isabella, a girl who had been in my class. 

“H-hello” was all I managed to say. 

“Hello to you, too. Are you Mr. Robertson? Because my wife was wondering if you would like to stay at our house…until you get a house in Sleepy Hollow.”  said the farmer, he looked somewhat sad when he said “house in Sleepy Hollow” I wondered why… 

“Yes…I am Mr. Robertson.” I said, still half out of breath… “And I..I would definitely enjoy staying with you…Since…I still…haven’t quite…found a place to stay.”

“Excellent!” said the farmer, his frown turning into a grin… “We have a room that you could sleep in, and a bed, too.”

“Oh” I said, “Thank you, I will need to pack my books thou—“ 

“But on the other hand, I don’t know if you would want to stay in the room, for it might be haunted by one of the school masters.” The farmer went on… “And—“ 

“I understand…it might be haunted…” I groaned, It was nice of the farmer to ask me to stay with him in his house…but I didn’t want him to go on and on about a ghost that could possibly be haunting the room I was going to be staying in. 

“And thank you, sir, for letting me stay with you.” Then I politely shut the door and began packing my things. When I was done, there was another loud knock on the door. I answered and it was the farmer again. 

“Are you coming?” he asked. 

“Yes I am…I just packed all of my books and I will need to lock the door.“ 

I walked out of the school house, and lifted the keys from my pocket, took the silver one and placed it into the door and locked it… 

“Good…” I mumbled, then turned to the farmer. “I am ready to go.”

We began walking to the farmer's house. It was a breezy night, and as we walked by the trees leaves rustled in the breeze. Isabella (one of my pupils) seemed relaxed about it, even though shadows of trees loomed in the darkness. They seemed to be reaching out almost wanting to touch and grab you by your arm and drag you forever into the darkness. “So…” said the farmer, “Have you heard of the headless horseman—.”

“I have and I don’t believe a word of it,” I said. 

“Oh” said Isabella. “i forgot to tell you father. He doesn’t believe in ghosts.” 

“What? How absurd…How could someone not believe in ghosts…The last person who did why…the headless horseman payed them a visit…” he went on talking about what had happened to past people who had said they diidn’t believe in ghosts… 

“Now anyway” said the farmer, when we had reached a clearing and light shone from between the trees. “We are here.”

I had a feeling that my adventures at Sleepy Hollow were just beginning…. 

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I hope you enjoyed reading this part of the story. 
What do you think will happen next? What do you think of Mr. Robertson? 
Love, 
-Quinley

P.S. I will respond to the comments from my previous posts, soon.  

October Drawings (+ Drawing requests)

                             
Hi everyone,
Today I thought was a good day to post a drawing post (I am also working on the next part for The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: The New school Master?) 

A drawing of Anne from Anne of Green Gables. 

I like the way she turned out. 

I enjoyed drawing her, I like the shading of the eyes. 

This is a drawing of Hera from Greek Mythology, I like how her expression turned out...  

This drawing is based on a myth about a sculptor who falls

in love with his statue. 

A drawing of Mr. Robertson from my story 

It was hard to draw him at first, but after a few tries I liked how he turned out. 

A quick sketch of Wonder Woman, 

I tried to capture her personality in the drawing as much as possible. 

These are also two characters from my story, 

This drawing is based on the first scene. 

                                                          And two Requests: 

                                               Worf requested that I draw Worf from Star Trek,
                                              here is the completed drawing.


                                                     

MiddleEarthMusician  requested that I draw 

Scarlet Witch a super hero from Marvel.  

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Which drawing is your favorite? 

And do you have any more drawing requests?

Love, 

-Quinley 

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: the new school master? (A short story series)

(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi Everyone, I'm back from my short break, and since it is October and Halloween is near, I thought it would be fun to share one of my Legend of Sleepy Hollow short stories/Fan fictions.
I am planning on posting the short stories through out October, Enjoy!:) :

                               

                                                          You can also listen to it on YouTube here

                                 You can listen to this while reading...

It was a terrible day when our School Master Ichabod vanished. To tell you the truth, he wasn’t the first to vanish. There were actually a number of school masters that vanished. We even kept track on the wall. Whenever a teacher vanished we would always draw a line, and whenever a new teacher came we knew what would happen. It never was quite happy knowing your teacher would disappear, even if they were strict or they hit your knuckles with the ruler, or even if they put the dunces hat on your head when you got a answer wrong or if they told you to write on the board a hundred times:

 I will never, ever sit in my teacher's chair or…something like that. 

As I was walking to school with my best friend Isabella, we were talking about what could have possibly happened to our most recent school master. 

“They say the Headless Horseman took his head!” said Isabella, “Or turned him into a pumpkin.” 

“Either one seems likely,” I sighed. I heard the leaves rustling as always, but then there was a strange sound. It almost sounded like…”Singing?” I said out-loud. It sounded just like our last school teacher's voice. 

“I hear it, too,” said Isabella, grabbing my hand. “Do you think he’s haunting us?” 

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’m sure it’s just the wind.” 

Suddenly, there was a crack behind us, feet moving closer, and closer... 

“Don’t hurt us, don’t give our head to the headless horse man!” Isabella screamed. 

“What?” Said a voice, that sounded somewhat British. “Why would I do that?”

We turned around, and there stood a man carrying books. He had brown hair, a hooked nose which resembled an eagle’s beak, and light blue eyes. He was rather tall, and wore a black suit which fit him rather tightly. 

“Oh!” said Isabella. 

“Beg your pardon, but I am not a ghost. And I will not give your head to this headless horse thing.” he said, crossly. 

“Actually it’s the headless horse rid—“ I began.

“Also, I am your new school master. You may call me sir or Mr. Robertson. And I will have no talk of ghosts in my class do you understand?” he asked. 

We nodded. 

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Hope you enjoyed reading the story... 

Are you excited for Halloween?

 And did you like the story?

-Quinley

P.S. I will be fixing spelling errors from some posts in 2016, so don't be surprised if anything changes there. 
P.P.S. I will also be responding to comments from my previous posts, as well.