Moonlit Night | Teen Ink

Moonlit Night

February 3, 2011
By Eliza, Stoke, Other
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Eliza, Stoke, Other
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Favorite Quote:
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails!
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!


Author's note: I wanted to write something different, something that I don't feel has been covered for teenagers. It is gripping and sometimes upsetting. But at the end of the story you will want to know what happens next!

The water forced its way under the bridge that anything in its path would be obliterated.
I closed my eyes and drew in a raspy, deep breath.
I had to do this!
There’s no other choice!
I can’t breathe!
My hands shook with fear as I gripped the old, crumbling stone wall. In a quick motion I had pulled myself on to the one thing preventing me from escaping this world.
As I sat there looking out to the black night the wind whipped through my clothes, cutting straight to the bone.
My heart raced.
My eyes were wide open in fear, in knowledge of what I was about to do.
The heavens opened up and I was soaked instantly.
Tears fell freely down my cheeks, as I slowly stood up on the wall. As I gazed at the sky, I felt the rain cooling my hot cheeks.
I wanted to shout and scream.
I wanted my head to shut.
This is the way my life is going to end.
I blinked hard to clear my vision and sent a silent prayer. Please, God, give me strength to this final leap to freedom!
My foot slowly moved to the edge of the wall, followed by the other.
It was as if I couldn’t breathe, I felt claustrophobic.
The only way I could get out of feeling that way was to get out of my body, to be in that black nothingness.
As my feet touched the edge of the crumbling wall, I looked down to the relentless water. My breathing hitched.
My heart froze.
Doubt crept in to my mind, is this the way I want to end my life?
A small voice at the back of my mind whispered a little no.
That no was enough for me to change my mind.
Robotically, I stumbled back to the safety of the concrete floor.
I stood there for a moment before my legs gave way.
I sat on the wet floor shivering and crying.
Not bothering to move.
Eventually sleep enveloped me.

Chapter Two
I woke up with the sun piercing my sight.

I automatically lifted my hand to shield the sun from my face. After a few moments my eyes adjusted to the scenery around me.

That’s when I realised where I was.
I took in the surroundings. Trees, grass, fences, and birds singing, water flowing underneath me. I wondered for a fraction of a second why I had slept on a bridge.
Then last night’s memories flooded my mind.

I shoved my face into my hands, trying to protect myself from the images that kept appearing before my eyes.

I knew I was an idiot to have even thought about it, but to have nearly gone through with it, I must have been mental.

I always told myself that no matter how hard things got, no matter how low I got, I wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But on top of the usual daily rubbish it was the anniversary of my parents’ death.

My uncle, who I have lived with since their death, had drunk himself into oblivion.
He does that most nights after work, but last night he would have been even worse, as he skipped work and drank from morning to night, until he was unconscious.
Usually, before he gets too bad he takes a bottle of whisky to the graveyard to see my mum, he buys her favourite flowers, tulips, and just talks to her. Whilst chugging back the whisky, that seems to be attached to his hand nowadays.
When he is there he cries. I understand that, but sometimes I’ve seen him laugh, and I have always wandered what’s so funny? I mean he’s talking to dead people and laughing.

I just figured he was going insane.

I’ve never asked him about that, to be honest, our relationship is limited to a grunt.

He doesn’t know that I use to follow him, to see where he went. For two years I just watched him from the fence of the graveyard, praying that one day I could be as brave as he was and go talk to them, I envy him because he finds it so easy to enter the graveyard.

When the bottle is finished, he goes home to have a sleep and then wakes up for another bottle.
He does the same thing every year!

When I was little, I was fascinated by his absence on that day, so as a 12 year old would, I followed him to see what he did on their anniversary, but when I saw him go into the graveyard, I froze.

I’ve never been able to go into the graveyard.

Trust me, I’ve tried, but my feet won’t take me any further.
Even at their funerals I couldn’t enter, I just watched from the fence.
Now, when I look back, I feel that I failed them, by not being able to step through the gate to just say that I miss them, or to just sit there and be a part of my family once again.
Every year he has never missed an anniversary. It’s the only thing that I admire about him. To me he’s brave, and I am a coward. I would love to be able to conquer my fear of entering the graveyard.

I wanted to be able to float away, in a total different way, than my uncles drinking.
I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to be reminded that I shouldn’t be alive, that I should’ve died when they did!
All I want is for the pounding in my head to shut up, so that I would be able to breathe, and get away from everyone and be in total blackness of nothingness.

That’s why I went to the bridge. But I didn’t realise that I wanted to jump. I just wanted to be alone, where no one could find me.

My mind was in a state of shock, I had thought that jumping was probably the best course of action for me. I didn’t want to be in a world where the people I love the most weren’t here to help me through all my problems.

Chapter Three
I searched myself and eventually found my phone in my coat pocket. 8.15.

I sighed in relief. My Uncle would be at work by now or still be asleep in his chair in the living room. So either way I won’t be in trouble if I climbed through my bedroom window.

My Uncle doesn’t pay much attention to me, but when he catches me doing something wrong, or what he thinks is wrong. Then, let’s just say it isn’t a pretty scene to be a part of.
I wish that I didn’t have to live with him.
I wish that he was different.
I wish a lot of things were different!

I sat up and tried to stretch out the aches and pains I had from sleeping funny.
My clothes were stiff from being wet, and then drying over night.

As I stretched, I could feel my bones popping back into place.
I made sure I had everything and started to walk home.
My whole body shivered.

I wrapped my coat around me as the wind picked up and shoved my balled up hands into my coat pockets.

I knew I looked a mess. I am invisible, so it doesn’t matter, I thought. People don’t notice a small brunette girl. They just walk pass me without a second glance. I guess you could say, I “blend” in.

I looked up to the sky and watched the birds flutter around the trees. The wildlife fascinated me. I could watch the birds, the butterflies, even the ants for hours. I know it sounds ridiculous and a bit geeky; I even had my Dad winding me up about it when I was 8 years old.

Maybe I could work with animals, become a vet or something along those lines? I thought for a fraction of a second and then smiled wryly because from last night’s event I doubt I will even get the choice of what I want to do with my future.
I’m fine now! I thought with conviction.
In a way I felt like a failure. At the same time, I felt as if I had been given another chance. It’s what I did with that opportunity that troubled me.
What the hell was I supposed to do with my life? I’m fifteen years old, nothing that I do is going to change anyone’s life, I thought about that for a moment. No matter what choices I make or routes I take, what effect does it have on anyone else? None! Life is all about looking after yourself, that’s what I hate, there’s no heart anymore!

That’s why I liked animals, they are simple, everything they do is instinct, and there are predators and prey. You know who the enemy is, and who you can depend on, there’s no hidden agenda.

With people there’s always a hidden agenda. The people who you hang around with always want something in return, whether it’s just to do with looking good, or the company.

But if I was honest, I haven’t got many people in my life. I have one true friend, Hannah. Everyone else ignores me because I ignored them. I am happy with that. I chose that, and I’m sticking to my guns, so to speak.

But I have to say that I do get lonely every so often. I mean when you see people you don’t even know going about their business, there’s always someone with them, or they are talking to someone on their phone, you know they have someone.
I just feel sorry for the person who I can see myself in.

I always wonder if the people who look like they have someone, if they are lonely. Not that I could help them, because I obviously can’t. I just think that out of the seven billion people on the Earth, how many are truly unhappy, or lonely, or feel that they have no one to talk to? I would count myself as one of them.

I hate this town and can’t wait to leave, but I want my education before I go anywhere.

I have been given a second chance, it’s what I do with it that counts, which brings me back to...I have no idea! But when I find out I will know, that’s how it works, isn’t it?

Chapter Four

I was on the way out of my door within 15 minutes. I looked more scruffy than usual, especially when Hannah started to walk up my overgrown path, a tall blonde, who constantly looks fabulous without a mark on her. She looks fabulous, even in a school uniform!

I told myself I would do get some weed killer and see to the path within the next week. The garden caught my eye; the grass was tall and looked like a forest. I will have to get around doing that at some point.
I sighed.

Hannah smiled, what I had always thought was cheeky as well as cute, a smile that can charm and get her out of trouble.

“Hiya, Bumpkin.” She said as she hugged me, “I’m sorry I cancelled our plans for the weekend, but you know when my dad has an idea for family bonding, we have to do it. Although, I think his latest idea is the worse idea he has come up with...” I ushered my hello, not letting on about what happened over my weekend. Instead, I listened half-heartedly to her weekend, something about camping and going fishing. Her face was graphical as she went in to description about fishing.

With Hannah’s constant talking it didn’t take long for us to walk to school, she has a way of taking my mind off things. But, a part of me was jealous of her having a full family who cared and looked after her.

We walked through the school gates and I silently moaned to my day ahead.
I cannot wait until school is over. Until I can finally say, “I don’t go school, I’m at college,” or I could say, “I work at such-a-such a place.” It makes me sound older and more mature and not just a high school teenager.

I smiled to my little dream in my head.
To me that was perfect.
To me that was heaven.

As I walked through the car park, my little daydream got pushed aside as I took in my school for the millionth time. It was tall, dirty and in all fairness ugly. But, I like how familiar it is. After you’ve been away a while, coming back is what everyone dreads, but deep down it’s like coming home.

The familiarity of it makes it even inviting, because we know behind the dirty, crumbling walls, there’s the normal routine of school. Teachers who try to get the best out of you, your friends who take school as it comes. But, at the same time they are stressing out because of their grades or because they had an argument with a friend.

But with school it is simple, if you need help, you have got it.

Even though we’ve only been away for just the weekend, to me it felt like weeks. I was happy to be back, I knew my place in school.

The sound of an engine revving pulled me away from my examination of the school.

I looked around to see where the noise had come from, I caught the sight of the motorbike revving in the car park and the people laughing and joking around the mysterious person.

The person on the motorbike took off his helmet and I stopped in my stride.

James Shield.

Hannah noticed that I had stopped and observed what I was looking at. I could see her smile from the corner of my eye, “Not many times have I been stunned to silence, nor have I had a shortage of words but all I can say is, wow.” I turned to look at her.

“He’s an obnoxious prat,” I replied, my gaze turning back to him.

“But a very cute one,” I saw her smile getting cheekier, and I had to smile with her.

“I thought he doesn’t do it for you?” I teased.

“Hey! I can still admire beauty.” She said with a wink, “But, you’re right I prefer his friend Danny, now I could take a chunk out of him.” I laughed, as I saw the twinkle in her eyes.

“C’mon before you get arrested,” I said tugging her arm, “I will feel sorry for Danny if he ever acknowledges you!” I laughed as I saw her horrified face.

“Oh, he acknowledges me alright, he’s just shy...” She said as she twirled her hair with her finger.

“Shy?” I scoffed, “So it seems,” I nodded my head towards where he stood, with a group of girls around him, being a big flirt and looking cool at the same time.

“Humph...” was all she said, getting jealous over a lad who doesn’t acknowledge anyone unless there was a mirror in front of him.

That’s when James caught my eye and winked, I automatically looked away from him, pretending it was a figment of my imagination. I self-consciously murmured to Hannah that we best get to class. She moaned, as usual. After a few tugs on her arm, she followed my stride.

I kept my head down. But, all I wanted to do was turn around and have a sneaky peek at him, to see if he was still looking at me.

Instead, I listened to Hannah moaning about having Geography first. I smiled at the old constant routine of school; it’s as if nothing had happened over the weekend.
Plus, I had Art to look forward to this morning, which makes everything better!

Chapter Five

In high school you have these clicks of people. You have your geeks. Then, you have the total opposite; people who have hair all over their face and loads of piercings. Of course, like every other high school, you have the popular people who look amazing all the time! They spend their time in the toilets applying makeup or styling their hair. Finally, you have the no mad’s - as I call them - who don’t have many friends; well they don’t have any friends. They walk round with their heads down, not giving eye contact with anyone; they always stay in their own little world.

If I’m honest I’m a bit like that, but there’s a few things that differ me from them, I have Hannah. I used to be popular, but because of certain events throughout my life, I have separated myself from everyone else.

I headed towards my first class of the day, Art. I smiled to myself; it has always been my favourite class. I loved drawing and painting. It’s my personal way of going into my own world.

My teacher, Ms. Dawson, smiled at me as I entered into her class, she was sitting next to a student who needed her help. She was a tall woman, with long brown hair; I always pictured her as a hippy. Always chilled out, never really getting herself worked up. Just like an art teacher should be!

The art room was what you expect it to be like; messy. I loved all the different pictures on the walls, the pieces of corsets on manikins. I loved the smell of the paint that lingered in the room. Everything about the art room was like home to me. It was comfortable and relaxing to work in.

My day whizzed by until my last lesson, History. I wanted to cry when I entered the classroom, I despised my History class. It was one of those lessons that bore you to the bone. So boring, that you will do anything to distract yourself or get out of.

Mr. Biggins, the most mind-numbing teacher in this school, hadn’t arrived yet. He usually makes up the time at the end of the class because he is always late.

I sat in my usual place; at the back of the classroom. I figured that if I was out of sight then I was out of mind. It didn’t always work out that way.
I had a feeling that it was one of those days.

No one made eye contact with me; instead they glanced at me and then went back to their conversations.

I sat down quickly and quietly.
Five minutes passed, and Mr. Biggins still hadn’t turned up.

From the corner of my eye I saw a couple of girls glance my way and then giggle. Great, just what I needed. I knew what was going to come, so I was ready.

I counted up to ten seconds and waited for them to say something.

“Hey, Faye?” I turned my head slightly, “We were just wandering, what you did over the weekend?” My mind raced; did they see me last night? I thought I was alone!? I made sure I was alone! “Because, it was the anniversary of your parents’ death...” Stacey carried on, obviously, not knowing what I actually did this weekend. My heart calmed to a steady beat.
Stacey was one of those girls who I have never got on with throughout school life. For some reason, she hates me. I have never understood why.

I just gave her a look to say I wasn’t interested in what she saying, especially not today!
The whole class was silent; she knew how to attract attention, so when she got it she would never back down.

I took a few deep breaths just to make sure my temper was under control, I tried to block her out. By forcing my eyes to block everything and everyone out, I did this by staring at the whiteboard.
But what she said next cut through me like a sharp knife!

“...I mean it must be a terrible time for you, losing both your parents and your little brother...” The words hung in the air. I winced at the reoccurring images that flashed before my eyes. I could feel tears daring to come, don’t you dare cry in front of them! I scolded myself.

I just gave her a blank look, but she kept going, pushing my temper to the limit.
I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of showing her that she had hurt me.

I tried taking calm, deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth!
You get this every year, so you shouldn’t let it get to you! You should just get used to it! I reasoned.
How can I get used to it!? I thought angrily.

“...I don’t know what it’s like to go through that. I feel sorry for your father and brother, but your mother..?” she smiled wickedly at me.
I made the mistake of jerking my head towards her, anger flashing in my eyes. She knew she had hit a nerve, “She was pathetic!” That’s what did it!

It was as if I had separated myself from my body, everything went into slow motion. All I could see was this girl who leapt across all the tables and punched Stacey in the face, she didn’t even see it coming, the girl cracked her fist against her cheek and I could feel the satisfying thud from hitting bone against bone.

That’s when I gave her an evil smile and everything popped back to normal.

“Do you know what? My mum may have killed herself, but your mum?” I scoffed, “She’s the definition of pathetic, she still a druggie?” I let the words hang in the air, “Because, I swear down I saw her buying something from a dodgy man this morning...” The whole class was a deadly silent.
I just smiled at her, knowing I had hit her nerve. But, deep down, I felt bad; I knew what it was like not knowing what you were going back to every time you left the house.
I whispered in to her ear, “Don’t mess with me Stacey, you know I have more dirt on you and your family!” I got off her and went back to my seat.
She dusted herself off and sat up with her chin high, daring anyone to challenge her about what I said. I could tell that I had hurt her, but she didn’t touch her eye, but her hands were clenched into fists, as if to stop her from revealing any emotion.

That’s when Mr. Biggins made his grand entrance.

Everyone was even more silent than before.
The atmosphere was thick and eerie.
You shouldn’t have done that! I scolded.
You know how Stacey is, she does it all to get attention and you rise to it every time. When are you going to learn?
She knew what she was letting herself into when she mentioned mum, so I’m not sorry! I thought with a shake of my head.

I felt like I was going insane with all the little arguments I was having in my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ease the throbbing pain in there.

Mr. Biggins didn’t notice anything out of place, as per usual.
Every so often someone would turn around and give me a look of pure fear, I nearly laughed out loud.

But, that wouldn’t a good idea as Mr. Biggins wasn’t a big fan of me as it was.

I pulled out my drawing pad and went into my own little world; I was drawing the bridge from the night before, where I nearly...you know.

When I start a picture I can’t move onto another unless I am satisfied with the final piece. Sometimes, though, my drawings don’t turn out as I had wanted them to, but even then I am proud of it because I did it.

My pencil eased its way around the page, forming the bridge as I saw it that night, dark and gloomy, but somehow magical. I drew the water flowing under the bridge taking anything in its path relentlessly. A silhouette of a girl standing on the bridge by herself, looking down at the water as it crashed under the bridge. I had started to draw the outline of her, rubbing out pieces here and there; I was so involved in the picture that I didn’t notice Mr. Biggins standing above me,

“Miss Smith?” I one quick motion I pulled my drawing pad away from him and closed it.

“Yes sir?” I answered,

“Do you know the answer?”

“To what, sir?” To this a few people laughed, but he just sighed and shook his head,

“Who was Henry the eighths third wife?”

“Um, I don’t know sir,” Does anyone know that answer? To be honest who really cares?

“Please see me after class, does anyone else know?” Argh! Great! Not only do I have to stay because the daft idiot was late himself! But, now I will be even later because the daft idiot asked me a question! Which to be honest, I won’t need that information when I am older.

I sulked in my chair because I wasn’t able to draw anymore. He would confiscate it because I wasn’t listening to him. I looked around the classroom and to be honest everyone’s face was completely bored to death!

I looked out of the window trying to find anything that could distract me. I saw a few birds flying around, but that couldn’t pull me away from boredom. Then I saw James Shield, he was sitting on the table top of a bench, talking to his friends.

It was as if he felt my gaze on him, because he turned around and gave me the same wink as he had earlier on.

This time I smiled at him.
He pretended to be shocked because I had responded to him.

I gave a silent giggle and just shook my head.
He mouthed “hello,” to me “You ok?” to which I shrugged and glanced at Mr. Biggins.

He gave him a hand gesture, this I laughed out loud to. Everyone turned around giving me a look to say, “You’re insane!” Mr. Biggins just said, “You’re on thin ice, young lady,” I just tried to look sincere, and when everyone had gone back to their own little worlds, I looked back out of the window and found James still looking at me, with a huge grin on his face.

He mouthed “Sorry,” to me. I just frowned and shook my head to say don’t worry about it.

His friends then started to go, he looked at me with a frown and said “Bye,” and I just gave him a small wave and a smile, wishing he would stay.

He then walked away from the bench, with his helmet under his arm. In one movement it was on his head. In my eyes he looked dangerous, as if he could take the world on if he needed to. He started his bike up and drove away.
Back to boredom! I sighed.

Chapter Six

The school bell rung to signal the end of the day, I could hear the silent sigh of relief, but I just groaned, all I could think was Lucky gits. I packed my stuff and walked to Mr. Biggins and just stood in front of his desk.

“Hmm...” he just looked at a piece of paper on his desk, deep in thought.
I wandered if he forgot that he asked me to stay behind, as it didn’t look like he knew I was standing right in front of him.

I didn’t know whether to cough or fake a sneeze, so that he knew I was here, I could just sneak out of the door, he doesn’t look like he would be any the wiser.

I was about to sneak out of the door, when he finally spoke up.

“Miss Smith, I don’t know what to do with you. I’m looking at your grades now, and with a bit of hard work you could Ace every class that you have taken, you’re getting good marks without even trying, but, just think, for one moment," he lifted one finger up, and carried on "what you could accomplish if you knuckled down a bit? Hmm..?” This is where he looked up; he was quite young compared to the other teachers, not bad looking either, if you like the geeky look.

His eyes searched my face; I tried not giving anything away. So, I gave him what I call the flat look.

The thing is, I don’t think school is a big thing. I understand that the grades are a big thing that you need them to get into college or to get a job. But, I just figure that the information that I have learnt, I won’t need when I’m older.

But I didn’t want to tell Mr. Biggins that. So, I told him what he wanted to hear. He wouldn’t understand what I meant if I told him the truth. Teachers always tell you that school is a huge part of your life and will be the starting point of living, if that’s true then I have one crappy life ahead of me.

I looked at the clock, my Uncle would be home from work soon, and I needed to be in before him.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your class, sir. I understand what you mean, and I think you are right; I should start knuckling down as it is my final year of school. I’ll work harder, I promise!” Man, I sounded like a swat. But anything to get him off my back. He is right so I actually might knuckle down...a bit.

“All right then, Miss Smith.” He sounded proud of himself. I just smiled back to him, as he said “You best get going. You’re late as it is.” Yea? And whose fault is that? Hmm..?

I don’t think any other teacher was as annoying as Mr. Biggins with the constant Hmm-ing.

I didn’t need telling twice, so I shot through the door and was outside within two minutes, I was actually quite proud of myself as if I had accomplished something by getting out so quickly.

I turned my phone on and it instantly vibrated, I looked at who had text me. Hannah, of course.
Hey Bumpkin. Had a lift of a friend, sorry. Love you xoxox

One of the reasons I love Hannah is because she was friends with everyone, she was just a genuinely nice girl. She wasn’t really popular, but everyone knew her. They all said hello to her, or gave her a smile.

At times when I forgot why I secluded myself from everyone from school, I was actually jealous of her. No one really hated her like they did me. She was sweet and caring and never lets anyone feel left out. When she wants to do something she’ll do it all the way. I mean, I know that better than anyone else. She noticed that I was always on my own, so for weeks on end she pestered me, always saying things like, “I’m not going to leave you,” and “You’ve got me for life, now!”

Even now I smile at the memory, when I see her with her other friends I get annoyed. Not with her, but with myself. I used to have those friends. I used to be the one they were laughing with. In a way I was jealous of Hannah, she had everything that I used to have!

But at the time, when my parents died, it seemed the only thing I could do. I had to pull myself away from the people who cared about me. I always thought that they pitied me and I didn’t want that.

It was too much for me to just get back to normal, I felt like I was betraying my family, I still do. I feel that I can’t move forward because I would be leaving them behind.

After quite a few years secluding yourself from your friends and making a big point that you didn’t want them anymore, I mean it’s hard to come back from that.

I walked down the school drive and noticed that James was standing by himself, next to his bike, looking at me.

My heart literally stopped. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, because he just stood there looking gorgeous and totally.

I walked towards him smiling like an idiot; I couldn’t pull it off my face.
Play it cool, girl. Just play it cool.

“Hey,” was all he said, but my heart came alive and thumped with joy and with nerves.

“Hey yourself, what are you doing here? I thought you had gone home?” I cannot believe I am talking to James Shield, even if he is an idiot.

“Well I figured that I got you in trouble with Mr. Biggins, so I wanted to make it up to you.” He gave me half a smirk.

“Nah...You didn’t get me in trouble, I was already in trouble. So there’s no need to make it up to me.” What!? That’s not playing it cool, that’s giving him the cold shoulder! Let him make it up to you!
You daft idiot!
It’s James Shield for crying out loud!
Why are you walking passed him, talk to him, flirt with him, ask him how he is, no! No! No! No!
Stop walking past him!
I walked past him. I heard his bike come alive and my heart sank.

I told you to make conversation with him and look at yourself now, you are walking home alone. You had the choice of actually talking to James, without anyone who could make a fool out of you!

I was half way down the road when he drove next to me.

“What if I want to make it up to you? I mean, I feel really, really bad for getting you into trouble, even if you were already in trouble. Please?” His eyes begged with mine.

I had to laugh. He pretended to be really hurt. I couldn’t say no to him especially when he looked so sincere and oh my, so gorgeous and dangerous.

Plus, you don’t want to say no, do you? I thought with a wry smile.

“You don’t give up, do you?”I smiled.
He just gave me a grin which answered my question.

“So how were you thinking of making it up to me?”

“Well, what about, I give you a lift home?” Seems simple enough, as soon as he drops me off I will say goodbye and this little strange thing going on between me and him will come to a stop.
Even though my heart was banging against my chest, I felt at ease with him. It was as if we had been friends for years, where matter of factly we weren’t even friends yet.

Now that wasn’t as bad as it could have been! Just say yes to him.
He smiles at you when everyone ignores you! He talks to you and makes you laugh.
The least you can do is let him give you a ride home.
I don’t know why I was trying to convince myself, because I knew I was going to say yes.

I liked and disliked James, he was a nice lad, everyone liked him and he was a good laugh, from what I can see, that is.

I don’t like him because he thinks he’s God’s Gift.

“Sure.” He pulled of his helmet and handed it to me. “What about you?” I asked, quite shocked that he wasn’t going to wear a helmet because of me.

“Just safety precautions, but there’s no need to worry your pretty little face over anything like that, because I haven’t crashed yet and I don’t plan to.” He said with a grin.

“Ha! No one plans a crash! What about the safety precautions for you?” I joked to which he smiled at,

“I am a good driver, I won’t crash but I would feel better if you wore the helmet.” I had to laugh at that, the way he was so sure of himself and confident about his driving.

“Well we will have to see about that won’t we, the good driver part I mean.” I jumped on to the motorcycle and gave him directions to my house and without another word we were off.

At first I was just too stunned to even acknowledge the feeling you get when you’re on a motorbike. I mean, I was scared to death and I was sure the bike could go much faster than we were going but the feeling was like being on cloud nine. The cold wind whipped your face, the houses, lights and people were all behind you within a second.

When we got to my street I wanted to scream with joy and bliss, I forgot that I was supposed to say thank you and good bye.

Instead, he helped me get off his bike and as soon as my feet touched the ground I hugged him hard.

“That was...That was...Fantastic. Scary as hell, but I loved it!” He just looked at me amused by my excitement.

“So you liked it?” He asked sarcastically.

“No, not really,” I grinned. “But if you want to make it up to me again, I’m up for it.” We both beamed at one another.

“Sure.” He said, giving me one of his winks.

“Anyways I best go. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He nodded and got back on to his bike. I handed his helmet back.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asked as he strapped his helmet on. I just gave him a look to say find out another way.

“As soon as you find out who I am, and my reputation, you won’t want to give me another ride, James Shield.” And with that I walked inside my house, I heard his bike roar to life and with that he drove off. I was invited in by silence. A musky smell from alcohol, dust and take away food filled the house.

I sighed and started to clean up.

Chapter Seven
The door slammed shut.
I inwardly grimaced.

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat, “Um...Tea will be done in ten minutes,” I chimed, keeping my tone in check.

My heart banged against my chest as I watched him walk right pass me, grumbling something under his breath, I caught the words“...never done on time...” and I winced, as those words stirred my soul, like salt on a wound.
Damn Mr. Biggins, he could’ve let us go early for once!

He went straight into the living room in search for the one thing that he loved in this house. His name was Jack Daniels.

I heard him picking up and flinging a bottle and then throwing it in the corner of the room because it was empty, that was shortly followed by more bottles hitting the wall.

He stormed into the kitchen, swinging open every cupboard door and then slamming them shut.

I kept stirring the bolognaise; I could tell it was nearly ready. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep my legs from buckling. I grabbed my glass of water and took a few gulps, even after I had finished half of my glass; my throat was still as dry as sandpaper.

I placed the glass on to the worktop, praying to God, begging Him to turn it in to whisky.

Seeing the tense jaw, the baled fists and the wild look on his face, had me making all sort of ridiculous and insane requests.

He opened the last cupboard, I snuck a peak.
Empty.

I silently moaned as I fought to keep my hands from shaking, as I stood my ground.

He swung to face me with his searing gaze.
He reached out and took my arm with a death grip.
I knew better than to cry out, I just looked into the green fiery eyes. I could read them like a recipe book; they held anger that was beyond control, and a dab of desperation and an accusatory glare.

I could already feel the bruises forming.

“Tell me where my drinks are!” he gritted through clenched teeth, spit flying through the small cracks of his teeth.
My nerves betrayed me, causing my voice to falter for a few seconds. “Um... I don’t know...You must’ve drunk all of it last night.” I muttered.
He scowled.
He then gave me a half a smile and a small nod. He slowly released my arm, this followed by a slap across my face. I sucked in a quick breath of pain, but I didn’t even cry-out nor did I cry.

“Don’t you dare lie to me! I left this house with whisky in it and I expect there to be whisky in, when I get back!” He retorted
I was stunned. I didn’t even see it coming. He just walked away from me and grabbed his coat and was out of the door without a backwards glance.

On wobbly legs I placed the covered spaghetti and bolognaise by his chair and took my dinner to my room.

As soon as I got there I didn’t have much of an appetite. My stomach churned, not from hunger, with hatred for the man who I call Uncle.

I sat in the corner of my room, trying to push the pulsating pain in my cheek and arm. I wanted to cry, but I had promised myself a few years ago that I would never cry over my Uncle hitting. So, I bit my lip. Forcing myself not to cry, one betraying tear escaped my eye.

I just wanted to get out of this hell hole. I grabbed the bag that I had always prepared for occasions like now, and I escaped through my bedroom.

The quicker I get out of here, the better!

As soon as my feet reached the floor, I ran. I didn’t know where I was running too. But as long as I was running in the opposite direction of that house then it didn’t matter.
I ran for as long and as quickly as I could, my legs felt like jelly. My lungs burned with exhaustion. I stopped to catch my breath. My hands covered my knees as I drew in deep breaths.
I didn’t realise where I was until I looked up and recognised the stone wall and the sound of water rushing underneath my feet.
Ironically, it was the bridge.

As I glanced round, it gave me a queasy feeling of what nearly happened that night.

I know my Uncle has been affected by the death of my family.
So have I! He doesn’t realise that their absence has burnt a hole in my sole. He thinks that he is the only one who is allowed to grieve. My mother and he were really close. Especially, since their parents died, they only had each other after that. So when she died, I think he could cope with her death.

But it has been four years!
I let the memories, of four years ago, flood in.
Knowing every time that I did it would hurt. But I didn’t, I couldn’t, let them go.
I had to relive those moments, as I revisited my past.



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