Roald Dahl Writing Competition Winner

This entry was posted on 16 September 2016.
The Dream-Catcher
By Kiara Wales
Uplands Preparatory School
 
Firstly, I should explain that I am no ordinary person. I am Veegalpoff Fapollacci, creator of the jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, fantastic, gasp-worthy, mind blowing dream machine. My dreams are sent to children around the world to fill their imaginations with vivid pictures while they lie in their slumbers. I have looked far and wide for these dreams and gone to many strange, distant lands but the best, most daring, bravest, adventurous dreams came from deep within the mysterious jungles of Selmikerandol.
 
Among the bright blue and orange plasgoomskys and pink and green flabterblings the dreams flitted freely, untouched by men such as I. You need to be a very sneaky hunter in order to catch dreams or else they'll fly away before you can say "Cristopopileez!" You need to walk on your toes so often that all the sticky, gooey, slimy stuff stuck between your toes oozes out into your shoes (IF you wear any, that is.) Once you've got close enough, you run up to the dream and THWACK! you bring your Foggelput (dream catching net) down on it.
 
In this particular jungle, I had caught hollingukeps (bad dreams,) guzzlobertis (good dreams) and scupidobbels (weird/funny dreams,) but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to encounter. My dream sack was almost full and I was getting ready to leave when I heard a rustle in the bushes. All of a sudden a toe-numbing, heart-stopping, mind- blowing, gut-wrenching, spine-chilling, ferocious beast jumped out at me. I had heard stories of people having seen this animal, but I was never quite sure if they were telling the truth or not, because none who'd seen the legendary Cossupladingerab had ever lived to tell the tale. It was said to live off human flesh and blood and hollingukeps. Slowly, I let all the bad dreams out, being careful not to release any good dreams, as they were said to give the beasts terrible stomach aches. Once all the hollingukeps were in the clearing and the Cossupladingerab was munching away, I turned and ran through the jungle and out onto the beach. 
 
I dove into the putrid-smelling orange sea and swam as my life (literally) depended on it. The sea smelled of old socks, stale bread, rotten, mouldy cheese and dirty Portaloos and I passed many dangerous-looking creatures but I was too frightened to care. Eventually, after what seemed like years, but probably only lasted a few seconds,  my feet touched the sand on the island of Past-Present-Future, where I had parked my Fogsnubbler (a sort of flying car,) was waiting. I got in, started the engine and flew back home, exhausted. And to this day, the dreams that I collected that fateful morning, are the best ones that my factory has ever produced.
 

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