Breaking Point

This is the first draft of the first chapter :)

Umbrella or no umbrella? My hardest dilemma of the day so far. The sinister clouds felt heavy on the frozen street as I peered sheepishly out of my bedroom window. I balanced my hot chocolate on my desk and perched on the windowsill, the pointless debate still rattling around my head; shifting bigger issues further away from my consciousness. I rested my tired head against the frosted glass, the cold stinging my forehead. Enough dawdling, I needed to go.

Grabbing my scarf, bag (and believe it or not) my umbrella, I downed my cooling hot chocolate in one gulp and twisted my scarf in a messy bundle around my neck. My keys clattered noisily in my hand as I grabbed them from the kitchen table. I ignored the mess around me and headed straight for the back door, locking up and throwing my keys into my already half-full bag. The cool air hit me like a slap in the face. Ouch.

Sliding my coat over my shoulders, I crossed my arms over my chest. My bad hung limply at my elbow but I didn’t care... now I was late. Luckily the ten past eleven bus was on time and I hopped onto that, showing my under sixteen pass as I threw a two pound coin onto the dish. No change. Stupid English government! I sank into a spare seat at the back of the bus and pulled out my Ipod from my bag. Shutting out the noise from the traffic. I checked my watch repeatedly on the twenty minute journey. Dad is going to go ballistic at me.

The bus pulled lazily into the bus lane, the doors hissing as though possessed by snakes. I trotted off of the bus, murmuring a quiet ‘Thank you’ as I passed the bored driver. I half walked/half ran through the hotel entrance to my fathers’ office, pausing only to take a deep breath before I walked through the door. Damn! The meeting had already begun. I was late; he was furious.

Even though everyone was staring at me, I still felt the need for tip-toeing along the room into an empty seat closest to the door. I sat my bag on my lap and folded my hands on top, ignoring my fathers’ glaring eyes from the front of the room.

 

Author's Note

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