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THE STITCH

‘Hils! I have to stop. I’ve got a stitch.’

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I have never been a good runner. I think it’s because I really hate running and only ever do it if I am told to do it by a teacher.

I wish I had known that one day I would have to run a really long way really fast carrying a singing cockroach while being chased by an angry, dizzy, limping, bug and cat-poo-covered walking-mountain-man Exterminator. With a huge mallet.

If I’d known that I would have tried to be a good runner.

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‘Owwwwww. It really hurts, Hils.’

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I knew that being squashed with a huge mallet by an angry, dizzy, limping, bug and cat-poo-covered walking-mountain-man Exterminator was going to hurt. It was probably going to hurt to death.

But a stitch really hurts too.

Really, very, super hurts too.

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‘Help, Hils. I can’t go any further.’

I looked behind me.

‘He’s going to get me, Hils. Help. HELP. HELP,’ I said.

‘HE’S GOING TO GET PAVAROACHI! HELP! HELP! HELP!’ said Pavaroachi.

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‘I’ll help you,’ said Vivien.