Chapter One
“Mum” I murmur, pushing my cornflakes around my bowl, “Does Dad really hate me?”
Mum looks up, frowning, “Of course not” she says, “Why would you ever think that?”
I sigh, “He doesn’t seem to like me”
“Oh, darling!” Mum comes over, her long, patchwork skirt rushing behind her, “He loves you, he’s just had an especially hard time this year”
I look up, “But he avoids me; all the time”
Mum’s frown deepens, “Come on darling. Let’s get you to school,” she puts her arm around me and pulls me out the room, “Find your bag, and let’s go”
“Mum, I don’t need you to take me to school anymore...”
“Let’s go” Mum repeats.
I run upstairs, in a hurry to please Mum.
“Watch your step!” Dad bellows, as I bump into him.
“Sorry, Dad, sorry!” I stammer.
He slaps me round the face, “You should be sorry, little brat”
My hand flies up to my throbbing cheek. It must be bright red, “Yes, Dad” I say, and hurry round his huge beer belly, to my room.
Once inside I collapse onto my bed. I was right; Dad doesn’t care about me, in fact, I’m a bit of an inconvenience.
I put my hand on my sore face; it’s wet; I am crying. I slowly pull my head off my pillow, and look at my mirror. I look terrible. My face is pink and wet, my hair is all messed up, and my mascara is smudged; making my eye look black.
I wash off the mascara, not bothering to re-do it, and tie my hair in a plait. That should do for now.
“Elodie!” I hear Mum coming up the stairs. My heart races, I rub where my face is pink, but it just goes pinker.
Mum opens the door, “There you are!” She smiles, “Let’s go, or you’ll be late”
I nod, but don’t look at her. As we leave I make sure that she doesn’t see my bruised face.
The walk to school is silent, although Mum tries to make conversation. I remember not to show her my bruised cheek.
“Elodie, are you alright?” Mum asks, trying to peer at my face.
I look away quickly, “Fine” I grumble.
“You’re not alright, Elodie. Look at me dear” She pulls my face to make me look at her. I gasp at the pain.
“Mum! You’re hurting me!” I yelp, hoping she’ll let go. I feel a bit mean, saying she’s hurting me, and knowing it’s really Dad’s fault I hurt.
“Am I?!” Mum leaps back, “Sorry darling. I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
I rub my cheek, “That’s OK “
Mum bends down to look at me, “Oh, sorry dear! You are cheek looks really sore, I didn’t mean to...”
I look down, “Don’t worry Mum. Come on, let’s go,” I carry on walking down the road, my face red.
“I really am sorry!” Mum calls, catching up with me.
“No, no. I’m fine Mum” I say.
“Yes, yes,” she mumbles, “Let’s get you to school”
She takes my hand and we carry on down the lane. Just then I see Marie and her gang strolling out of a side road. If she see’s me with Mum, I’ll die when she get’s hold of me.
I glance down at my watch; 7:40. I have a whole 10 minutes to get to school.
“Mum, I only have 2 minutes to get there before the bell goes,” I lie, “I’d better run”
Mum frowns, “Really? I thought we left in good time”
“I’m late though,” I say, glancing up at the approaching gang of girls, “I’ll go, and you can head home”
“Oh. OK then, that’s a pity; I was hoping we could walk all the way together,” Mum replies, “Well, you’d better be off”
I nod, “Bye!” Marie’s about to see me. I start to jog to school.
“Elodie? Aren’t you going to give me a hug?” Mum says, hurt.
“Yes, yes!” I say impatiently, sprinting back to her. I give her a quick hug and turn back round to go.
And Marie is staring right at me.
Marie and her group walk over, their expressions icy.
“Bye Elodie!” Mum smiles, “I’ll leave you and your friends to walk together”
When Mum’s gone, me and Marie, and her friends, glare at each other for what seems like hours. After ages, Marie steps forward; and slaps me. It’s right where Dad hit me this morning. I scream, as the pain shoots through me.
“That’s for being a baby,” Marie snarls, she hits me again, “And that’s for being ‘Teacher’s Pet’”
“Stop it!” I shout.
Marie smiles, “Stop? Stop what?”
“That!” I say, backing off a little.
“What? This?” Marie smirks, kicking me hard in the shins. I step back; tripping over my bag, and falling onto the concrete road. Her friends laugh.
“Yes!” I moan.
“Pardon?” Marie seems to be enjoying this, “Should I stop doing this?”
She whacks her foot into my back, and I curl up into a ball; hoping she’ll get bored and go.
“Get up, wimp!”
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