Joyride continuation

Keith stared into what seemed like the abyss of the world around him. Flashbacks of the night rushed furiously through his mind, filling him with the horrors of what happened that foolish night after the disco.

 

The lesson seemed to go on forever; Keith chewed the end of his pen in anguish, looking down at his history coursework. His thoughts were scrambled, he’d been trying so hard to avoid thinking about Saturday night but his mind repeated the events in a continuous loop; he screwed up his widened eyes in an attempt to focus but all he could think about was how he had to step out the classroom door and talk to the police about what he regretted the most…

 

Thoughts of the tragedy and coincidence of the baby filled his mind, the screeching of the stolen car and Pete’s voice in his right ear saying “It’s the fuzz man!” But what stood out most was the vivid memory of the dark carrycot on the old deserted farmhouse doorstep in a pool of deep white moonlight, and that baby’s face - the history teacher Mr Saunders’ baby’s face - so plump and cute, with those star-fish like hands that wavered around as if needing someone to help it from the sorry state that Keith left it in. For all he knew, it could’ve been dragged off by some rabid animal or taken by yobs, messing around after having a night out with the friends as a joke, but it was too late now.

 

The voice of Mrs Elliot on Monday played itself over and over in his head like a broken record “Just an empty carrycot”. The image of the baby faded away within his mind of twisted thoughts.

 

Keith froze, remembering where he was; then he saw Mandy across the classroom, his girlfriend. He loved her so much and hoped that she never found out what happened, so that they could be together forever. Just looking at her almost made a tear form in his eye; Keith knew he would never find a girl as special as her. He tried to focus on his history work again when a man pushed open the classroom door; he had an enormous stature and looked almost big enough to crush Keith between his large fingers.

“Keith Totterton, we are ready for you now, please come with me” He beckoned Keith towards the door.

 

His heart stopped, this was it... He could feel drips of sweat gathering on his forehead. Keith eased himself out of his chair slowly and listened to his footsteps within the silence of the classroom, as if he was being judged. He continued to walk without a sound down and into the small isolated room at the bottom of the endless corridor, where the police would be waiting for him.

 

His head was spinning and the thought of the police knowing the truth made him feel sick. The interview was a hazy memory; he answered the questions as short and as innocently as he could, one after the other, minute after minute that he wished hard he could ignore them. He felt wrapped in his own thoughts of lies and deceit of the things he wished so hard hadn’t occurred. All he could remember was the last thing that was spoken:

 

“Thank you very much for your contribution on the matter, you may be called upon for further details at a later date” The door slammed shut tightly behind him. As he was shuffling back to lesson, the bell rang – end of school - and for the first time Keith didn’t want to leave, it felt like some sort of sanctuary from his rollercoaster of life. He sighed and stumbled out of the school gates like a lost sheep, trembling and thinking: would he get called upon again?

 

Keith felt he couldn’t face Mandy again; it was as if he had a heavy weight on his head that dragged him along. He walked home briskly thinking the faster he ran away from school, the quicker he could shut himself into his bedroom and not have to face anyone.

 

He looked round the high street of Chard, people strolling around like cats on the prowl, not a care in the world ahead of them; then there was Keith, with all the hatred and anger building up against himself, squashed together into his head like a juicer, squeezing an orange dry.

 

Hanging his head, Keith staggered up the stairs and saw refuge in his room. He slung his schoolbag on the floor from his right shoulder and collapsed in defeat onto his bed. He felt like nothing, a stain on society that didn’t deserve to exist, his shame had taken over him.

 

Two hours passed, three, four. He hadn’t seen the bugger Pete at all since the night of the hijacking. Hatred burning brightly inside Keith had built up and in some ways he was glad he hadn’t seen him.

 

Suddenly, Keith heard his mobile, vibrating vigorously against the floor. He sighed, sat up and reached a hand to it, expecting only one person to be calling him - Mandy.

 

Violently shaking beside his bed, he struggled to press the answer key on his phone. Slowly, he clutched the phone to his ear.

“Hey”. His voice was weak like the squeak of a mouse.

“Hello Keith”, she sternly spoke to him, but her voice to Keith still sounded like a sweet melody in his ear and he managed a small smile.

“Listen, you’ve been acting strange lately and I don’t know if I can hold on to us any longer. It seems like you keep ignoring me and well…”

“Mandy I’ve just had so much on my mind! If only you knew! You’re everything to me, no one understands!” His voice interrupted in desperation.

“It’s over Keith, I’m so sorry…” her voice stung his heart.

 

Grabbing the sides of his head with his hands he heard the high pitched dial tone cut in. Keith closed his eyes tightly, trying so hard not to cry. He dropped to his knees and clutched his heart as if he had been stabbed. Tears flooded into his eyes and Keith slammed himself onto his bed like he’d been knocked out of a boxing match.

 

He couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning like a turtle, rolling on its back, a mixture of tears and sweat running down his face. He’d been crying for hours now and no one had come to check on him; Keith felt worthless – he was in trouble with the law and couldn’t face up to it, he had no one to talk to and no beautiful girlfriend to be with.

 

No longer having control over his actions, he lifted his tightly wrapped covers and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then began to get dressed. He made sure he wore his black studded belt around his waist. His watch on his dressing table read ‘2:05am’. With great caution and care, he left the house and took one last look before he wiped more tears from his bloodshot eyes then headed around the corner to the park.

 

The blinding streetlights shone in pools of white light, showing him the way. The high street of Chard was different at night, almost desolate; party goers staggering around and having fun, as if they hadn’t a care in the world ahead of them – unlike Keith. He walked forlornly through the park gates and stood on the climbing frame and looked up - freedom. He pulled his belt from his waist and tied it tightly round the support of the broken swing beside him then prepared himself to tie it round his neck. He wanted to get this right. He’d end this right now; one jump, one suicide and all his problems out the window – freedom.

 

He was on the end of his toes, teetering on the edge of the climbing frame, ready to jump to the side, waiting for his thoughts of stealing the car and the baby to get stronger and stronger in his head, until they got so strong that he couldn’t bear to think about what he had done any longer...

 

Thoughts faded, bones fractured and just before his eyes closed, he glanced a baby, tugging at the leg of his jeans with its plump star-fish hands - freedom…