Jannie Higgins

I had to write this story in English class. It was about the life of a dead person. The scene takes place in the country. It is mostly based on my teachers life Mrs. Mullin in Nova Scotia.

Created by Ctar3000 on Saturday, November 26, 2011

Mmmm... THe smell of freshly baked bread,
I get to smell it all the time
After all I am the baker.
I love making diferrent types bread.
Whole Wheat, Rye, Baguettes,Brie,
Any type of bread I can think of.
I just love when the kids come.
Their faces just light up when I give them their little treats
That's why I am the famous baker in town.
Actually, I'm the only baker in town.
If I couldn't bake I'd just die
That is not how I died though.
Just so you don't get the wrong idea
I'll tell you how it happened
The school teacher Sylvia Miller came to buy some pastries
She was having a manners class with her students
So I got to nkneading some dough for the pastries.
We started to have a conversation
It went on so long I forgot about the baking bread I had put in the oven earlier
It caught on fire
A spark flew out of the oven and landed on a sack of flour,
And set it ablaze.
I took a bucket full of water from the water barrel to try and douse it
When I turned it was spreading on my counter and up the beams.
Sylvia was still in the bakery frozen with fear
I told her to run and get some help
She snapped out of her shock and ran out
At this point the place was starting to come down
I was losing oxygen quickly
I made my way as quickly and carefully as possible to the door
I got out the place just as the entrance started to collapse
Then I passed out with a look of relief on my face
I woke to find myself in bed
Sylvia was sitting in a chair next to me
She told me the doctor was on her way.
That's when I remembered about my bakery
I asked her what happened after I passed out.
She told me thst people came to put the fire out
They got the fire out but my bakery was completely destroyed
I couldn't believe it
The shop my great-grandfater built was gone
Then the tears came.
There was a knock on the door
It was doctor Mary-Lou Jefferson
She checked my pulse and heartbeat
She told me that they were slowing
Mary-LOu said I probably last until the next afternoon
She told me to rest, then left.
Sylvia told me she would visit the next day
I closed my eyes to sleep...
And a calm washed over me
I knew I had died.

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