The Mystery Of Wembley Stadium

Here's a story Nat wrote at home, inspired by The London Eye Mystery by Siobhan Dowd.  Please leave a comment!

The Wembley Stadium Mystery

 I woke on a awkward Saturday morning
hopping that our oncoming trip to the greatest showdown stadium in the world Wembley Stadium was going to go fine.
Unfortunately, one of us won't return and smile with their lime scale free teeth.
We gathered round the table and we were just staring at the Coco Pops cereal box and we argued for it.
Then, I beamed like I was announcing the winner of the World Cup competition.
Another argument shattered hopes of arriving at Wembley Stadium on time and it was a very silly thing to do it was of course to clean the disgusting toilet.
The idea of going to Wembley was unreservedly all my cousin Jermain 's very irritating idea. Don't question me why!
He was not scared of jumping from the highest ranked seat to the pitch which was
a tenth of a mile away.

I led Jermain to the Underground Station
with mum, dad sister Samantha and my youngest sibling John.
Jermain was a young man who never visited London just arriving from Jamaica and his dad would always work rather than chill-ax.
Jermain had hair the color of the sun and had skin which looked like a multi-coloured
disco ball.
But, he had eyes the colour of the ocean and had clothing what a millionaire would wear.
We all glimpsed at the steel, metal train tracks as our train came to a halt.
“Wow! This is Awesome!” the sophisticated Jermain hissed as he contemplated at the Underground logo.
When, we were on the train I saw a soporific, obliging, kaleidoscopic waitress.
She looked young and gorgeous because her hair was dark and she was named Zoey
an she was probably in her twenties and I can tell from her weight.
“What drink would you like!” Zoey exclaimed.
“All coke, please!” I replied calmly.
Soon, she left.

We eventually arrived at our destination
after we took a bus from Wembley station.
Next, we received a ticket from a computer
and brought it to the anti-cultured receptionist; he welcomed us in to the world's showdown stadium Wembley.
We got round the dram packed stadium then Samantha (which is my sister) shoved Jermain from the highest ranked seat and slid towards the pitch where groundsmen were cutting grass and then he damaged himself and Samantha ran to get a kidnapper she knew and his name was James from Blackpool.
Afterwards, he came to the damaged Jermain and took him away.
“Where are you, Jermain!” I screamed.
Then, Mum arrived with a disgraceful manner because her clothes got filthy.
“So.......Where's Jermain!” Mum questioned.
“No clue!” I answered
“Well, I'll ask Sammy if she knows anything about Jermain's vanishment! She you in a moment.”
Where's Jermain, Samantha!” Mum asked.
“I don't know! Ask John!”
John was with me getting filthy!” Mum suggested.
“TRUE or FALSE do you know where Jermain is!”
Samantha asked needing a proper answer.
“SANCTIMONIOUS !” Mum answered with confident manners.
“I'm soporific now and can I go home now!”
John moaned.
“OK!” Dad sighed.
A day later, I got a letter and it had my school logo and I knew that I was going to the muceum in Greenwich to round off our distinguished year we had in our school including the olympic torch pics which each school Councillor from each class get to lift the golden torch.
However, there was a letter the metropolitan police and when I told her there was a letter about it mum grabbed it off my hands in astonishment.
She completely started bawling because Jermain was idle.
“Jermain has died! He was a sanitary boy.”
mum cried.
“WHAT!” Jermain's dad bellowed.
“I will never see him smile again!”
I never saw his face smile
AGAIN
NEVER AGAIN!