Read the extract from Grace’s diary and name all characters you’ve met in the text.
A Walk in the Forest
While walking her dog in the forest, Grace has an unexpected encounter that will present her with a dilemma.
Tuesday
Walking through the forest is my favorite part of the walk. Benji loves it too. There are rabbits to chase and old leaves to smell. Benji is my dog, by the way, and I’m Grace. I live on a farm with my parents and take Benji for a walk most days after school. Dad doesn’t approve of me walking through the forest. “Don’t talk to strangers,” he says. But the truth is that there’s never anyone here. Just me, Benji, and lots of rabbits and birds.
The forest is a serene and enchanting place, filled with towering trees whose branches form a lush canopy overhead. Sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air is fresh and filled with the earthy scent of moss and fallen leaves. Birds chirp melodiously, and the occasional rustle of small animals can be heard in the underbrush. It’s a place where time seems to stand still, offering a peaceful escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I love walking in the forest because it gives me a sense of tranquility and a chance to connect with nature.
Benji is a small, energetic beagle with a shiny coat of black, white, and brown fur. His big, floppy ears and expressive brown eyes make him look curious and friendly. He’s always full of energy, running ahead of me with his tail wagging furiously.
While Benji runs ahead, I stop to take a photo of a butterfly resting on a flower. A new Facebook photo? Maybe, but my friends at school already tease me with the nickname “Nature Girl,” so perhaps not. As I put my phone away, I hear Benji barking along the path. Benji barks to say hello; he’s scared of cats and wouldn’t hurt anyone, but other people don’t know that. Benji’s barking and jumping around a boy. The boy is about my age. He’s holding some wood in his arms and looks worried.
The boy has untidy, short brown hair and expressive blue eyes that seem to notice everything around him. He’s wearing a worn-out hoodie and jeans, and his face is smudged with dirt, giving him a rugged look. Despite his worried expression, there’s a certain determination in his eyes.
“Benji, stop! Come here!” I yell. I reach into my pocket for Benji’s ball. I’m about to apologize to the boy, but he’s gone, vanished into the trees.
Wednesday
I’m out with Benji again. It’s cold and rainy today, and I have a lot of homework to do, so we’re walking quickly. No admiring butterflies or taking photos today. As I’m walking through the forest, I feel the first drops of rain, so I start to run. Suddenly, I slip and fall, and before I know it, I’m flat on my back. Ouch! That hurt. Then someone is there, and a voice says, “Are you all right? That was a bad fall.” I look up and see the boy from yesterday.
“I’m OK, I think,” I say uncertainly. The boy helps me up slowly, and then Benji arrives to check on me. The boy pats Benji on the head. “I haven’t seen you at school. Do you live near here?” I ask.
“No, I’m from Manchester,” he says. “Listen, I have to go. Are you OK to walk home? Do you need help?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks!” I say, as the boy sets off. “Hey, I’m Grace. What’s your name?” I call, but he’s already out of sight.
Back home, Mum is watching the news on TV. “Hi Grace. Have you heard about this boy, Mark?” she asks.
“No, what boy?” I say.
“A boy from Manchester. He’s run away from home. Look! This is his dad.” I look at the TV, and there’s a man in tears sitting next to a policeman as cameras flash around him. A man who clearly hasn’t slept for days and is out of his mind with worry. Then they show a photo of the missing boy. I know him. It’s the boy from the forest. He’s Mark, with his short, messy brown hair and striking blue eyes. Should I say something? Should I tell Mum?
“Poor man,” says Mum. “I just hope they find his son soon.”
No, I can’t say anything. If I tell Mum now, the police will come and find Mark in the forest. What if he’s run away for a good reason? I have to talk to him first.
“Mum, I’m going to do my homework,” I say, counting down the hours till I can go back to the forest.
Comprehension Questions:
Let’s think.
How, in your opinion, the story would the story continue?