Short Story 1.
"Do you always do this?"
"Do what? You mean talk to myself, yeah I always do that when I'm alone."
"You don't want to be the odd girl who dresses like a boy and talks to herself, do you now?"
"So what if I did?"
'Soldiers Poem' by Muse plays in the background of my mum's car. I'm old enough to drive but I don't care. Mum takes me everywhere except school; most of the time I just don't go. I used to care about 'education' but now I just thinks it's a waste of my bloody time. My mum says that sometimes it takes time to get where you want to go but I don't see anywhere I want to go. Matt Bellamy's strong voice and the bands steady beat accompany me as I turn to talk to the voice that echoes from the back of the car. It's my sister but then again it always is; often I wish I wasn’t a twin because having a twin is liking have a voice in the back of your head all the time. I look at her, she's pretty and even though I look exactly like her I'm not. Her hair is brown, so is mine but hers is shiny and soft to touch whereas mine is oily and all clumped up in knots. Her eyes are hazel, so are mine but hers are brighter and always compliment her smile whereas mine are dull and do a pretty good job at frowning. Her skin is olive coloured, so is mine but hers is smooth and golden whereas mine is pimply and has a lot of scabs on it. She's a prefect at my high school and I'm the kid who never turns up. She's the one my parents know will succeed and I'm the reason they are glad they had my sister as back up. She's the one with the boyfriend who loves her and I'm the one whose parents think will end up in an abusive relationship. She's the one who is trying to get into Oxford and I'm the one who's trying to get a job at Macca's. She's the one that when we were kids would sit inside and play Barbie's and I'm the one who climbed the tree, fell out, broke her arm and was dumb enough do it again the day I got my cast off and the doctor said I was better. I guess I already knew that my parents were certain I'd fail at life along time ago. My sister leans over from the back seat and turns off the cd player. I glare at her and she moves her finger across her mouth and then smiles to show me that I should be smiling too. I don't but she can't help that, no not my sister, she's perfect. She hates my music, she likes everything else and I just have to put up with it. She always talks about how if I liked what everyone else liked then I could go back to school and be cool like her. But her plan is flawed mostly because I don't bloody like what everyone else does. I don't know when I made the decision to stuff life in a draw and do something else. Maybe it was when I fell out of the tree. Maybe it was the second time I fell out of the tree. It could have been the time I nicked the fiver out of my mum's purse to buy ice cream. Possibly the time I chucked that coke can at my sister and now she has a Harry-Potter-style scar on her forehead. Could it have been when I skipped school for the first time. No, they're all wrong... I know when it was. It was when I was one, a long time ago but I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember pushing my little body up towards the sun in our backyard, my parents ran over to me. They loved me, they were proud of me but no that was when I saw my sister out of the corner of my eye. My sister sat up and lifted her body up on her insy legs and they all went, my parents rushed to her... my moment disappeared and that's when I gave up on life.
"Oi Kate put the music back on!" That was my voice.
"No way Amelia!" The way she said my name almost pierced my heart like an arrow. I fiddled with the dial on the stereo, mum got in the car and suddenly Kate was switching seats with mum and I was sitting next to Kate. I slapped Kate with my hand and watched as my sharp nails scratched her perfect skin. She started the car - of course she was bothered to learn how to drive. Kate revved the engine and then proceeded to drive down the main street of our home town. I remembered when I was a year seven walking down these streets. I pulled my socks up and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I sent a text to Kate, I told her to run and catch up to me because she was further down the street. While I waited for her I thought about my friends, Kayla, Marie, Sylvia and Hannah. I came out if the flashback and settled back into reality. I looked down at my feet and saw my sisters practice graduation sheet. It read;
Kayla Murray - Head prefect
Sylvia Darlington-Smith - Music captain
Marie Mertastorlis – taken from us (2015)
Hannah Strosspiper - Dux of school 2015
My eyes watered for all of them, I shed a tear and almost wished that I was still with them. But then Kate swerved, the car hit a streetlight and the back swung round from the pressure and banged up against the car next to it. Kate screamed and her foot pressed down on the accelerator by accident and we sped forward into the window of one of the main shops, dragging with us a long row of bunting that had been hung across the bottom of the window. I was shocked but I knew what to do as I reached over two Kate and shook her - no response.
I blinked my eyes and woke up. I bounced out of bed and shook Kate, it was the first day of year seven and I was pumped. I remembered the dream and shook, I can talk to myself and be who I am but I will never let that come between Kate and I. Kate's eyes opened and I pulled her out of bed and we danced around the room screaming at another “the first day of year seven”.
"Do what? You mean talk to myself, yeah I always do that when I'm alone."
"You don't want to be the odd girl who dresses like a boy and talks to herself, do you now?"
"So what if I did?"
'Soldiers Poem' by Muse plays in the background of my mum's car. I'm old enough to drive but I don't care. Mum takes me everywhere except school; most of the time I just don't go. I used to care about 'education' but now I just thinks it's a waste of my bloody time. My mum says that sometimes it takes time to get where you want to go but I don't see anywhere I want to go. Matt Bellamy's strong voice and the bands steady beat accompany me as I turn to talk to the voice that echoes from the back of the car. It's my sister but then again it always is; often I wish I wasn’t a twin because having a twin is liking have a voice in the back of your head all the time. I look at her, she's pretty and even though I look exactly like her I'm not. Her hair is brown, so is mine but hers is shiny and soft to touch whereas mine is oily and all clumped up in knots. Her eyes are hazel, so are mine but hers are brighter and always compliment her smile whereas mine are dull and do a pretty good job at frowning. Her skin is olive coloured, so is mine but hers is smooth and golden whereas mine is pimply and has a lot of scabs on it. She's a prefect at my high school and I'm the kid who never turns up. She's the one my parents know will succeed and I'm the reason they are glad they had my sister as back up. She's the one with the boyfriend who loves her and I'm the one whose parents think will end up in an abusive relationship. She's the one who is trying to get into Oxford and I'm the one who's trying to get a job at Macca's. She's the one that when we were kids would sit inside and play Barbie's and I'm the one who climbed the tree, fell out, broke her arm and was dumb enough do it again the day I got my cast off and the doctor said I was better. I guess I already knew that my parents were certain I'd fail at life along time ago. My sister leans over from the back seat and turns off the cd player. I glare at her and she moves her finger across her mouth and then smiles to show me that I should be smiling too. I don't but she can't help that, no not my sister, she's perfect. She hates my music, she likes everything else and I just have to put up with it. She always talks about how if I liked what everyone else liked then I could go back to school and be cool like her. But her plan is flawed mostly because I don't bloody like what everyone else does. I don't know when I made the decision to stuff life in a draw and do something else. Maybe it was when I fell out of the tree. Maybe it was the second time I fell out of the tree. It could have been the time I nicked the fiver out of my mum's purse to buy ice cream. Possibly the time I chucked that coke can at my sister and now she has a Harry-Potter-style scar on her forehead. Could it have been when I skipped school for the first time. No, they're all wrong... I know when it was. It was when I was one, a long time ago but I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember pushing my little body up towards the sun in our backyard, my parents ran over to me. They loved me, they were proud of me but no that was when I saw my sister out of the corner of my eye. My sister sat up and lifted her body up on her insy legs and they all went, my parents rushed to her... my moment disappeared and that's when I gave up on life.
"Oi Kate put the music back on!" That was my voice.
"No way Amelia!" The way she said my name almost pierced my heart like an arrow. I fiddled with the dial on the stereo, mum got in the car and suddenly Kate was switching seats with mum and I was sitting next to Kate. I slapped Kate with my hand and watched as my sharp nails scratched her perfect skin. She started the car - of course she was bothered to learn how to drive. Kate revved the engine and then proceeded to drive down the main street of our home town. I remembered when I was a year seven walking down these streets. I pulled my socks up and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I sent a text to Kate, I told her to run and catch up to me because she was further down the street. While I waited for her I thought about my friends, Kayla, Marie, Sylvia and Hannah. I came out if the flashback and settled back into reality. I looked down at my feet and saw my sisters practice graduation sheet. It read;
Kayla Murray - Head prefect
Sylvia Darlington-Smith - Music captain
Marie Mertastorlis – taken from us (2015)
Hannah Strosspiper - Dux of school 2015
My eyes watered for all of them, I shed a tear and almost wished that I was still with them. But then Kate swerved, the car hit a streetlight and the back swung round from the pressure and banged up against the car next to it. Kate screamed and her foot pressed down on the accelerator by accident and we sped forward into the window of one of the main shops, dragging with us a long row of bunting that had been hung across the bottom of the window. I was shocked but I knew what to do as I reached over two Kate and shook her - no response.
I blinked my eyes and woke up. I bounced out of bed and shook Kate, it was the first day of year seven and I was pumped. I remembered the dream and shook, I can talk to myself and be who I am but I will never let that come between Kate and I. Kate's eyes opened and I pulled her out of bed and we danced around the room screaming at another “the first day of year seven”.
Word of the Day
Debonaire–adjective
1. courteous, gracious, and having a sophisticated charm: a debonair gentleman.
2. jaunty; carefree; sprightly.
Thanks for reading!
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