His voice cradled my ears, he sang mystical words about a place bearing presents and oversized socks. Prancing and twirling, the audience cheered and clapped as Jack wore his viscous evil grin. I stare. His glistening bones shone, making slight clicking noises as he moved. Jacks attire is a marvellous spiked collar with a black and white striped blazer, the back of it draped down like two tails. The hollows of his eyes are so shallow you could drown in them. His extensive, bony, branch like fingers look as if they could snap. Jack Skellington's legs towered over all the eager citizens.
The screeching of the Doctor does not go unnoticed living in a cramped space. The irritating whirring of his wheelchair rings against my ear drums. His thick latex gloves squeak as he creates different potions with a puff of smoke. I know how I must escape; I long to help, help celebrate and prepare for this magical thing named Christmas. I see a pair of tweezers laying on my bedside table. Staring at my arm, I wince. Steadily, I pluck the thin, coarse, blue thread out of my arm. I place each limb in the basket suspended out of my window. After removing my legs, which was a struggle, I crawl inside and lower myself to the ground scattered with gravel.
"Ouch!" I squeal as I hit the ground with a thud. The pain is overcome with relief as I sew myself back to normal with the fine, knife like needle the Doctor uses. The brambles blend. in with the thorns hugging the tower. I bend over. I pick up the prickly plant and see an alluring, attractive tree decorated with lights and bushy strands of colour, it is so small it could fit in the palm of my hand. POOF! It vanishes. This makes me jolt backwards with shock. I must warn Jack.
