The Dungeon Part 2

For audio click here 
As I am in China I thought I would share with you some of my stories for kids. This is called the Dungeon and comes in three parts. For part one click here 
Previously on the Dungeon, Bobby had fallen into a deep well / dungeon type thing. He'd found a door that opened with a password but then found himself at the bottom of some really steep steps. The door slammed behind him

Thud.

The door slammed shut behind him. There was only one way he could go now; onwards and upwards.

Bobby’s tummy rumbled as he climbed the huge staircase reminding him he had been on his way home for his tea. Grumble, rumble, rumble, grumble, it echoed down the staircase. Grumble, rumble, rumble, grumble, it echoed up the staircase. The walls were damp and mossy. The staircase never ending. He was panting like a dog, using his arms to pull himself up the giant steps. One hundred and thirty-three, he breathed out, one hundred and thirty-four, he breathed in, one hundred and thirty-five, he breathed out, one hundred and … he stopped there was no one hundred and thirty-six. He’d reached the top. But this was no good. This was no good at all. There was nowhere for him to go. Just another stone wall. He felt the wall, the damp cold stone. There was no draught, no door, this time no way out. He was hungry and out of breath. he didn’t want to go down again. He looked left, nothing, he looked right, nothing, he looked behind him, stairs. He looked up, light. A thin, thin crack of light. It was a trap door. He went up on the tippy of his tip toes, but he couldn’t reach the door. He jumped with all his might, but he couldn’t reach the door. He curled into a ball and sprung like a leopard, but he couldn’t reach the door. Then he remembered.

“Open Sesame,” Nothing.

“Emases nepo,” Nothing.

Hmm.

There was something falling, falling, white, like a feather, drifting down towards him.

He put out his hand and caught it. It was a little piece of paper. In the dim light he could just about read what was written on it.

Say it backwards.

“I just did,” Bobby stamped his foot. “Oh, say ‘it’ backwards.”

“Ti” nothing.

What was it? What was it?

“It’s a trap door!” he realised. He thought for a moment, spelling out trap door backwards in his mind. Then he giggled.

“Rood part.” He said. The door swung down and stairs appeared. These were just normal steps, easy to climb. Bobby went up slowly and stuck his head out of the hole in the floor.

He was in a theatre, a large deserted theatre and Bobby was on the stage.