"Tell the story to its end," says Eren with a grin.
His yellow eyes are glowing like embers in the night.
"When I reach the end," I say, "what happens? You'll have the whole story."
"Hmm," he says, looking at me and licking his lips with a dry, grey tongue. "What happens then? Why don't we find out?"
People are keeping secrets from Oli. His mum has brought him to stay with his aunt and uncle in the countryside, but nobody will tell him why his dad where his father is. Why isn't he with them? Has something happened? Oli has a hundred questions, and only an old, empty house in the middle of an ancient forest for answers. But then he finds a secret of his own: there is a creature that lives in the attic…
Eren is not human.
Eren is hungry for stories.
Eren has been waiting for him.
Sharing his stories with Eren, Oli starts to make sense of what’s happening downstairs with his family. But what if it’s a trap? Soon, Oli must make a choice: learn the truth—or abandon himself to Eren’s world, forever.
Reminiscent of SKELLIG by David Almond and A MONSTER CALLS by Patrick Ness, EREN is richly atmospheric, moving, unsettleing, and told in gorgeous prose. A modern classic in the making.
Simon P. Clark grew up in England, has taught English in Japan, and now lives in New Jersey. He is a founding member of We Are One Four bringing together UK & US authors with MG/YA debuts, in order to promote one another's work and spread awareness. Tell the Story to Its End is his first novel.
This book was BEYOND CREEPY!!!! It is up there with one I read a few months ago called Savannah Grey by Cliff McNish which was just as creepy. This one ends almost the same the other one did but this one was almost creepier than that one. I would have to say that if you want to get the CRAP SCARED out of you try both of these books!
This dark and haunting read will keep you sleeping with the lights on as well as making you thinking twice before going in the attic.
Oli and Eren are such great characters. I through this book I keep wondering if Eren was a friend of foe. And it creeped my heart to find out the answer to that.
This book is also illustrated. Like another book A Monster Calls this one is covered in wonderfully drawn black and white pictures. That help set the story for you.
Go Into This One Knowing
Read this story to the end........Even if it Creeps you out!
"All opinions are 100% honest and my own."
'Tell the story to its end,' says Eren with a grin. His yellow eyes are glowing like embers in the night. 'When I reach the end,' I say, 'what happens? You'll have the whole story.' 'Pff!' he laughs. 'Have it? Have it and own it? Boy,' he says, 'I am the whole story.' 'Then what happens if I tell you the last bit?' 'When you tell me, you mean. What happens then?' I nod. He's huge. There's no attic now, no window, no lights. Just Eren. Eren, and nothing after that. He's thinking about something and he smiles. 'Hmm,' he says, looking at me and licking his lips with a dry, grey tongue. 'What happens then? Why don't we find out?' Somewhere in my stomach I feel cold and sad. I'm lonely, but the story goes on. 'There were things you missed,' he says. 'Eh? Weren't there? Stick with those feelings. The sadness. The hunger. The bump, bump, bump of confusions and hurtings! Oh, boy! Oh, yes. Stick with them. They're good. I like those ones. The dark ones. The real ones. Let me hear those. Tell me 'bout that.' I nod. 'Dark ones?' 'Tell me.' He leans forward, eager, like a child that can't hold back. I think there's a way out of here. I'm not sure yet. I have an idea, a flicker of something there in my mind. Well, what's left of my mind. I think there might be a way. Eren would never tell me, but if you go into a room, there has to be a door, right? Maybe I can leave. Maybe Eren knows that. He needs me more than he says. I start to talk, and I hear my voice in the blackness. What am I saying? I hear my voice. 'I remember the moon. It was bright and slim. It looked like a knife in the sky...' He licks his lips and laughs and listens. THE MOON was bright and slim as a knife, a scratch of light in the sky. It glinted off the water on the road. Clump, clump, clump. Another jolt, another bump. I reached forward to squeeze Mum's hand. 'What a ride!' She smiled and nodded. She didn't want to talk. 'Yeah. Quite a ride. Can't be long now, though. There soon, I'm sure. There soon.' I fogged the window with my breath. Moonlight was shining off the branches of the trees outside. Mum always hated travelling. Anything was better than this road, all rocks and grass and puddles and nothing like London. She was clinging to the seat so hard that her knuckles had turned white. The forest went on and on. It was huge, black, all pine trees and shadows stretching up from the road and rolling over the horizon, crashing into the sky. 'Not long now,' she said again. 'Not that either,' said our driver, and he slowed the car right down. Mr Pugh smelled of smoke and sang songs while he drove, all under his breath with a grin spread wide on his face. I heard him muttering in his croaky voice, 'Easy, now! Whoa, whoa! Steady, gal,' talking to the car like it was a horse. Weird. I looked back out the window, searching around. The trees were clearing away and I could make out the lights of a village ahead. Ever seen the way light catches on fish when they splash and jump in water? They looked like that, the houses and everything, all sitting in the valley, shining out, blinking at the night sky. 'We're on the last stretch now, ma'am,' said Mr Pugh, 'so I'd think, eh, ten minutes, give or take. Should be less bumpy from now.' 'Thank you, Mr Pugh,' said Mum, and she sighed with relief. Her cheeks were flushing red. She turned in her seat to face me, smiled again and winked. 'Soon there, he said! Better get your scarf on, Oli, it's a cold night. Can you believe it's July? If it gets much worse it'll kill the poor flowers.' I pressed my nose against the glass. I made myself not think of London, not think of everything I'd miss. I stared into the night, just stared and stared and waited. I could feel every flinch of Mum's hands. 'There's, like, no buildings,' I said. 'Ha! No tallbuildings, perhaps. You're spoiled in the city, Oli. Coxborough is big enough. And you get to meet Rob at last. And see how the house looks.' My Uncle Rob and his tiny country town. I'd never been here, never met him before, never even heard his voice on the phone, but suddenly here we were, on the way to my grandmother's house. Our new home, Mum had said. For now. I'd heard about the fun she'd had there growing up, about the games and the food and the light, and then about Gran's sickness, and the quiet and the dust and the sadness. It'd been empty for years, but Uncle Rob had moved back in, to build a life and make things better. 'Ah, it's been too long! I really wish we'd brought you out here before. If only your father would just-' She stopped and tutted and looked away. 'When's Dad coming?' Mum sucked in her breath and sat up. 'Soon! Honestly, where's your spirit of adventure?' I knew I was supposed to be excited. I sat back again and let my mind wander.b?' 'Certainly, ma'am!' said Uncle Robert, clicking his heels together and saluting at a funny angle. As soon as he was free Jasper jumped up at Mum, crouched down, sniffed her skirt. 'Come on, Oli,' she said, calling me in. She laid her hand on my shoulder and led me down the corridor. 'Let me show you your bedroom.'
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