The BFG (Sample)
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Sophie couldn't sleep. A brilliant moonbeam was slanting through the gap in the curtains. It was shining right onto her pillow. The other Children and her dormitory had been asleep for hours. Sophie closed her eyes and lay. Quite still. She tried very hard to doze off. It was no good. The moonbeam was like a silver blade slicing through the room onto her face. The house was absolutely silent. No voices came from downstairs. There were no footsteps on the floor above, either. The window behind the curtain was wide open, but nobody was walking on the pavement outside. No cars went by on the street. Not the tiniest sound could be heard anywhere. Sophie had never known such silence. Perhaps she told herself this was what they called the witching hour. The witching hour somebody once whispered to her was a special moment in the night when every child and every grown up was in a deep, deep, deep sleep and all the dark things came out of hiding and had the world themselves. The moonbeam was brighter than ever on Sophie's pillow. She decided to get out of bed and closed the gap in the curtains. You got punished if you were caught out of bed after lights out, even if you had to go to the lavatory, that was not accepted as an excuse. And they punished you just the same. But there was no one about now. Sophie was sure of that. She reached out for her glasses that lay on the chair beside her bed. They had steel rims and very thick lenses, and she could hardly see a thing without them. She put them on. Then she slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to the window. When she reached the curtains, Sophie hesitated. She long to duck underneath, um, and lean out the window to see what the world looked like. Now that the witching hour was at hand, she listened again. Everywhere it was deathly still. The longing toe lookout became so strong she couldn't resist it. Quickly, she ducked under the curtains and leaned out the window in the silvery moonlight. The village street she knew so well seemed completely different. The houses look bent and crooked like houses in a fairy tale. Everything was pale and ghostly and milky white across the road. She could see Mrs Rance is shop where you bought buttons and wool and bits of elastic. It didn't look riel. There was something demand misty about that, too. Sophie allowed her eye to travel further and further down the street. Suddenly she froze. There was something coming up the street on the opposite side. It was something black, something tall and black, something very tall and very black and very thin.