Chapter Two

Two weeks have passed since that exam, and I now remember it so faintly that it seems almost like a bad dream. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

 

It’s officially summer. No more school for me until September. The question is will that school be the same old boring Redroofs, or will it be The Crosseby Institute for Exceptionally Gifted and Talented Young People?

 

I am hoping with all my heart for the latter. The mere fact that at this exact moment I am lying on my bed, snuggled up in my duvet looking at the clouds outside is proof enough that my time at Redroofs has not been a success with regards to friends. In school, I was liked well enough, but I only had one close friend, Natasha. We’ve known each other since the first day of primary school, and naturally, have been inseparable ever since. But even she hasn’t been in touch with me since the official start of the holidays one week ago. Beside me, Mika meows, knowing it is almost lunchtime. I stroke her soft, furry head and sigh.

‘Em, Hazel’s here! Come down!’ I hear Mum’s voice bellowing from downstairs.

My room’s in the attic, so I guess it’s fairly impressive that I heard her at all, although by the sounds of things she must have shouted at least twice. Conscious of Mum’s apparent impatience, I disentangle myself from my duvet and unfold my legs so that I can pad lightly across the short distance from my bed to the wooden door of my bedroom. I carefully flick off the modest ceiling light and head for the spiral staircase leading downstairs to the landing of the second floor. On my way, I pass my bathroom and am instantly reminded of Dad’s constant nagging about food hygiene. So, rolling my eyes, I turn the silver tap of the sink and wave my hands underneath. Finally satisfied that I’m in an acceptable condition to eat lunch, I at last descend the stairs.

 

When I reach the ground floor, I am greeted by a slender creature with a shock of red hair. She turns, hearing my steps, to reveal the face that I have not seen for three months; Hazel. Her chapped plum lips part to reveal a large grin and a set of perfectly straight white teeth, my envious mind noted.

‘Hey, Em!’ She holds her tattooed arms out wide.

Trying to forget my envy, and what had occurred during Hazel’s last visit, I walk into her arms and hug her tightly.

Mum’s head appears in the doorway of the kitchen. ‘Girls, lunch is ready!’

Without another word, my elder sister and I hurry into the kitchen; Mum is not a person to be kept waiting.

 

Sitting around the round wooden table is my family. I cherish this moment of intimacy, not that this is a rare occasion in my family; we are a tightly knit unit, but recently I have missed the feeling of warmth you feel when surrounded by people who you love. In the centre of the table sits a large bowl filled to the brim with tomato pasta, and I become aware of the blobs of tomato scattered about on the table; we’re a messy family, too. Opposite from me, Sam leans in and serves himself a generous portion. I smile admiringly at my older brother; we’re closer than most siblings I know, despite the five year age gap.  

My peaceful thoughts are interrupted as Dad’s loud voice booms into action. ‘So, when do we get to meet him?’

Our heads all turn to face my now scarlet-cheeked older sister who is staring down at her bowl. Her delicate hands are resting upon the surface of the table, and for the first time I note a modest diamond ring nestled on her wedding finger. I think hard, willing myself to remember the name of the latest boyfriend; nothing.

Hazel starts to speak, quietly. ‘He proposed last week, at a gig. We’re thinking of a summer wedding, next year.’

I look around the table. Nobody looks as if they trust themselves to speak. My sister’s eyes meet my own, looking for a reaction.

I smile reassuringly, ‘that’s great news, Hazel.’

Relieved, the others nod in agreement. Lunch continues in silence, and eventually draws to a finish. Mum and Hazel clear away the dishes, leaving me and the males of the house alone at the table. The expression on Dad’s face is difficult to read; he doesn’t seem angry, just worried, maybe, confused.

 

Later that day, in the evening, Hazel and I are sitting together in the front room. The ten o’ clock news is blaring on the television screen telling us about how little oil we have left and how we’re all going to die soon. The sky outside is black, with a sprinkling of glistening stars.

Hazel turns to me and says ‘You are happy for me, aren’t you?’

It takes me a few seconds to reply ‘Of course I am!’

She fiddles with the ring on her finger, twirling it round and round. ‘I wanted to ask you to be a bridesmaid…’

My brain struggles to register what has been said. ‘For you…?’

She laughs, and the atmosphere lightens. ‘Yes, for me.’

Then, to my horror, she starts edging closer to me, shuffling along the old brown leather until she may as well be sat on my lap. I notice that my arms are folded, and so fold them tighter, wrapping them into my stomach. Hazel, apparently unaware of my movement, (or just ignoring it), places one arm around my neck and pulls me in towards her. We sit awkwardly like this for about ten minutes before the silence is broken once more.

‘I miss you, you know? When I’m in London...’ Hazel whispers in my ear.

‘I miss you too.’ I reply as soothingly as I can.

‘…And I can’t stop thinking about what happened last time I came here.’

I stop and look at my sister and see sadness in her eyes, forcing me to remember her last visit. We’d had a huge argument ending in her storming out and catching the first train back to London. Now that I thought about it, we hadn’t spoken since…

I reached for my sister; I didn’t have to say anything. There we sat and embraced, forgetting all of the competitiveness and envy and everything else that comes with being a sister.

 

A few days later, and it’s Hazel’s last day at home. I’m still lying in bed refusing to get up, but I can hear the hubbub of activity downstairs. Sighing, I turn over and check the digital screen of my pink furry alarm clock; it’s only eleven o’clock. Voicing my frustration, I throw my duvet up and watch it land over my body, covering my face. I’m lying sprawled like this when Hazel’s head appears in the gap between my door and the wall.

Luckily for me, she assumes I’m asleep and simply whispers ‘Bye bye, Emmy.’

 

For those next couple of days, I do nothing. I sit, usually in my room, reading novels, watching the clouds (or the stars), and eating. Normally, I would have at least spent the time with Sam, but he’s away at some festival.  As should be expected of someone who has spent the first few weeks of their summer holiday doing, well, nothing, I gradually get more and more miserable. I feel more and more sorry for myself, and any social interaction, no matter how small, physically pains me.

 

All of a sudden, an urge overcomes me, a need that has to be fulfilled. With the exception of my parents’ presence in the evenings after work, I have interacted with no humans for a whole two weeks. Realising this, a plan starts to formulate in my mind; a daring plan, something completely out of character. Excitement rushes through my veins as I begin to prepare for my adventure; in my mind, I start to make a list: shoes, jeans, bag, jacket, top, money. That last part was going to be the most difficult. I think back to last week… Did Dad give me my pocket money? My heart sinks as I realise that he did. It looks like this plan will have to be postponed.

 

Days later, and I have all the equipment. I’m about to set off on my mission. It’s 11am and I’m getting ready, I have to pick the perfect outfit. With a deep breath, I throw open the doors of my wooden wardrobe. My eyes sweep over the untidy contents. A mountain of clothes lies before me. My hands sweep across the materials as I run through my options. I’m not used to dressing up, and I don’t have any idea where to begin…

An hour passes, and I’ve tried on (and discarded) three pairs of jeans, two jumpers, a pair of sunglasses and four t-shirts. The good news is that I’ve finally settled on an outfit. Looking at the mirror in front of me, I admire my pale-but-not-too-pale blue jeans. My checked shirt looks casual but fits nicely and my polka dotted shoulder bag makes me feel trendy and young. On my feet, I wear my black flats and on my wrist is my sixteenth birthday present watch. All of a sudden, I feel… Feminine, and grown up.

 

Before leaving, I brush out my long brown hair and back comb it a little to give it volume (at least that’s what Natasha always does). The effect pleased me, and as I sprayed myself with my best perfume and added another coat of mascara, I felt great about myself.

‘See you later, Mum!’ I called through to the kitchen as I stepped out of my front door and into the world.

 

The wind swept through my hair as I pulled the door shut behind me. It felt like something from a movie, I thought to myself as I made a left turn towards the main road. Walking past the numerous pubs, newsagents and restaurants, I try not to make eye contact with the people stood in doorways. Yet somehow I can’t avoid inspecting the people who I share my oxygen with; old and young, fashionable and, interesting. It strikes me how little I get out, and how sad it is, especially seeing as there are so many things to do around here. I press the button on the traffic lights and rock gently back and forth on my feet observing the traffic. It’s surprising how busy the roads get around here, I think to myself, you’d think people would have better things to do than drive around.

 

 I certainly have better things to do, I laugh gently to myself, as I cross the road without a care in the world. Walking through the automatic doors into the train station, I glance up at the departures list. Good; I have a couple of minutes. I sway over to the ticket office, and speak clearly into the window.

‘One child’s return to town, please’

‘Pardon, love?’ The man replies without looking up.

‘A child’s return into town, please.’ I repeat sweetly as I can, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

‘How old are you?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Are you under sixteen?’ The man looks up.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be there anymore. I long for my comfortable duvet and my mother’s arms.

‘Y..Yes,’ I stutter.

For a long moment, it seems as though the man is going to refuse to sell me the ticket. Then, he taps at his keyboard and prints off an orange slip. Sighing deeply, he pushes the ticket through to me, and turns away. I snatch the ticket away and make the short downwards trip to the platform, relieved, although I’m not sure if I can still do this.

 

‘You’ll be fine’, I reassure myself, propping myself up against the glass of the shelter while looking out onto the tracks, silently praying for my train to appear. Miraculously, it does so, and I step onto the emptiest carriage. As I do so, I thank God for answering my prayers so swiftly, briefly feeling a flash of hope. I stand by the opposite set of doors, gripping tightly to the yellow bar, and close my eyes. I hear the gentle sound of the doors slamming shut, and feel the ground rattle beneath my feet as the train pulls away.

 

Opening my eyes, I look out of the small windows, ready to enjoy the scenery of the place where I live. Most of what greets my eyes is greenery; trees, bushes, and a few patches of flowers. I’ve lived here, in a pretty big suburb for all my life, and yet it strikes me that I know barely anyone, aside from people in school. Looking around the train for people to communicate with, I see pensioners, business men and assorted tweenagers in black leggings and pink tops.

‘No, no, no.’ I mutter, turning back to the window.

By now, a few stops have passed, and I’m getting more and more impatient. People board and leave the train every few minutes, but all I hear is the sound of their footsteps, I am totally focussed on my mission. 

Reviews

[Vria P Crow]

INTRODUCTION

Honestly, I found the beginning tedious haha This is not a bad thing by any means because "mundanes" is something we can all relate to. It is sometimes an excellent tactic to use.

QUOTE DISSECTION

"When I reach the ground floor, I am greeted by a slender creature with a shock of red hair."

WoW! That threw me through a loop! I was automatically entranced by the image of the "creature." I imagined it within vivid detail. Therefore, you have accomplished imagery, indeed.

Sadly, this is also the part where I became lost:( I apologize for this honesty.

SUGGESTIONS

1. Shorten the Chapters like you did in the first Chapter. I feel that your talent correlates with the following:

(1) Concise sentences
(2) Concise Chapters
(3) Excellent Imagery
(4) Excellent Informality
(5) Excellent Suspense

2. Chapter 2 was where I think you tried to hard to make it technical writing instead of your amazing ability to write simplicity. Simplicity makes it more understandable for the reader.

FINAL THOUGHTS

1. The above were mere suggestions. If you love what you have written, please do not touch it:D

[emma234]

How do you suggest that I make it more simple? :P

I wanted this chapter to be longer because this is going to be the long wait for the exam results, and I wanted that to be reflected in the chapter :P

What do you mean you became lost? How do I improve this?

[Vria P Crow]

haha What I meant by simplistic is to make the Chapter shorter. These are mere suggestions.

I can understand the purpose to make it longer because of the long wait. My simple advice: Do not change it if you like it that way:P I will reread it though to see if I missed anything.

I became lost because I was not sure what was going on. I felt that the pace was quickened. However, I almost like that I was lost because I was being challenged.

I really enjoyed this story so please continue! When you ask someone to improve this, ask yourself this question: "How do I as the writer improve this?" The writer knows their work better than anyone else. I would suggest coming back to it after a week if you want to revise it. If not, just let it go:D

[Adele Oldham]

I agree with Ria. I liked the first chapter. It was small enough and concise enough, but this chapter was a little, I don't know it felt like it was going too fast. Was there really any need for the huge jumps in time, days passed before anything else happened. Is this extremely necessary so early on? You could have the same effect of the first chapter by making these shorter time spans. Other than that, I loved it. Please continue.

[emma234]

I was thinking of making the first chapter a prologue, and that therefore this would be the first chapter. The jump in time was because this is going to be the chapter in which she gets her exam results, and I didn't want to get caught up in her feelings after the exam, and normal school life, because it's almost as though she's left that behind, now. I also wanted it to feel like nothing happens in her life worthy of note, and that therefore there is nothing worth writing about in those six weeks that I left.

Nothing interesting happens to her, until now. :P