I suppose I started being bad when my mamma died. My daddy never liked to talk about that. I think he should’ve faced up to it. He shouldn’t have kept it from me. He shouldn't have told me lies. Lies make me angry. Lies make me want to hit something. Lies make me want to hit the liar. That’s how I got put in a care home. Daddy told lies; I hit him. He told me I had to go because I was a bad girl. He got rid of me. He got someone else to look after me. He said he forgave me but I should go and live with other bad girls; I needed to be kept away from society for a while. He said he was sorry, and that he would come and get me in a year or two; but he didn’t come and get me, and he didn’t tell me how mamma died.
I became a very bad girl at the care home. I made some friends, but they taught me how to steal and how to use karate. Ruby was my best friend there. She was a bit older and had wild, frizzy, red hair. We had fun together. She made me laugh too. We called ourselves the Blood Red Twins, because we both had red hair; we even made up a little song about ourselves; the only bad thing was that she always got to choose what we did. I didn’t mind that; she had lots of great ideas; but when she wanted to run away, I didn’t know what to think.
At first I thought she was joking, it was another imaginary game or something; but she was serious. Ruby wrote out lists of things we would need, and drew maps of the home. She taught me how to throw knives, and punch really hard. On the night we left I pretended to be in a deep sleep; hoping she would let me sleep forever, and forget about our escape. Ruby didn’t forget and she woke me up with a smack round the face. I’m not sure why I thought she would let me stay; It was Ruby I was talking about. When we got out of the building and had climbed over the gates, Ruby turned and face the home. She swore and swore at it. I wondered what mamma would say to that. I stared at Ruby, quite surprised she knew so many words. Ruby looked at me as though I was utterly stupid; which I probably was, and said, “I’m glad to be outta that dump. I can live ma life like I want. I’m not gonna follow der stupid rules of dat place. Common, we gotta get goin,” and with that Ruby tugged me away into the unknown. She pulled me down an alley and stopped inside the alley was a gang of kids, about the same age as Ruby. I didn’t recognise them, but they recognised Ruby.
“Ruby?” The tallest kid looked at us; I tried to hide behind Ruby, but Ruby shoved me away. Then the kids took Ruby and hit her onto the ground. They ran away before I could get them. I knelt beside Ruby, “Are you OK? Do you know them?”
Ruby tried to sit up,but fell down again, “I used ta know them. They didn’t like me. Now day gotta me and beat me up an I am so sorry. I don’t want you to get involved. Go and getta good life.”
“Ruby,” I asked, “Did you know they were going to be here?”
“No,” Ruby smiled, “I didn’t know; life is full of surprises” Ruby laughed despite herself.
“Oh” I said, and Ruby told me to go away. She said I had a chance. A chance for what? I didn’t ask though; I was worried she’d think me stupid.
She told me to leave, and I struggled but she has always been bigger than me. I am wandering aimlessly now.
Part One
I am alone. I have no one. No one to help me. I am alone.
Wind, lots of wind; throwing the leaves around. It looks wild. I am wild. I am a wild girl, living rough. I should think I am going mad. I mean; I am not like a normal kid, like the ones in books I have found. I don’t get why anyone would want to ‘play’. If you ‘played’ you could get caught, anyway, who would you do it with? Other children just want to get the better of you, and an adult would tell you off, or smack you, or put you in a home, or lie to you; no one would be with you, no one would trust you, after all you are a wild girl. You are mucky and dirty and smelly and you are bad. You are a bad girl. You need to be kept away from society because you are bad, and you don’t know how your mamma died because Daddy wouldn’t tell you. He would shake his head or lie. Maybe he wouldn’t tell because you were bad. Because you are a bad girl.
“Girl!” The harsh voice rasps out of the darkness, “Do not trespass on my land. Come here, come back! I have a gun!”
I leap to my feet, scrambling through the hedge. My bare feet hit brambles and nettles but I run on, keeping the pain inside. I hear gun shots behind me; the man was telling the truth. Run, run, run; I tell myself, but the shots are getting louder and I am feeling faint and dizzy and I see a dustbin and hide behind it, and then it’s all dark.
Part Two
I’m awake, I’m alive. I sit up. Sunshine. It is morning. I must have slept all night. A bin? Why I here? Then I remember. I leap to my feet, is that man still here? What if he has trapped me and is going to send me to Prison, where the really bad girls go. Am I so bad I should be trapped behind bars for the rest of my life? Am I so bad that I must be got rid of?
I am alone. Relief! Though I must get moving, someone might find me here. I get up and walk aimlessly down the road. Who cares where I go? No one would care where I go. I am rubbish, I am litter, I am trash. I am a bad girl. Bad, bad, bad.
“Alone little girl?” A tall, old man with a long beard leans over me. He is quite shabby and his long, patched coat sweeps the dirty ground.
“Yes” I whisper and back off into an alley. The man follows me.
“You live on the streets, don’t you little girl?” He asks.
“Yes. And what is it to you?” I stammer.
He steps closer, “You need a job, little girl”
“I do?” I ask.
“You do” He whispers, “If you do then you can earn money and buy food”
“Really?” I ask. Who was this guy and why did he want to help?
He smiled, “I can give you a job”
There was nothing to it, I said yes.
Part Three
“Come inside,” The man croaked, and ushered me inside a dusty office. When he had sat down in a rocking chair, he slapped a pile of crinkled parchment onto the desk.
“Sit” He gestured to an old rocking chair that creaked as I sat on it.
“I can give you a job” The man leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk; “But you must not tell anyone about your job here. Keep it utterly quiet. Mouth shut. Got that?”
Why would he say that? But I still accepted. “Ok” I mumbled.
“Good” he replied, “I am Mr. Milanne and I am a wizard”
Part Four
Ok. I had a job. I should be happy. But I don’t know how to be. I have never smiled since... I don’t know when. I try to smile but I frown. I try to laugh but a tear dribbles down my cheek. I curl up on the hard pavement and cry. For everything.
Part Five
In the morning I drag myself over to the tall, leaning building, which Mr. Milanne calls home.
Tap, tap. I pat the door with my hand. Nothing. I tap again. Still nothing. Maybe I tapped a little too lightly. I tap again; harder this time. Has Mr. Milanne turned on his word? But why would he do that? I knock again. Really hard; come on Magic Milanne guy!
“Come inside, all that knocking is giving me earache!” A harsh voice calls from inside the building.
I jump in suprise, then I push the door, finding it is open.
“Come on. I haven’t got all day girl” I follow the voice and find myself in a large chamber, with nothing but a table and Mr. Milanne in it.
“Come over” Milanne barks. I hurry across the room, echoes bouncing off the bare walls, to where Milanne is standing beside the table.
“First fill in this form. Name, age, and signature in the blanks” he stabs a sheet of paper with his hand.
“Pardon?” I ask.
“Write your name, age, and put your signature there. Simple. Go on!”
I drop the pen, “I can’t”
“Can’t? What do you mean girl?” Milanne looks up.
“I can’t do any of that Sir. I’m sorry” I try to hold the tears in, “I can’t write”
“Then tell me your name girl” he orders.
I shake my head, “I don’t know it”
“Then age. How old are you?”
“I don’t know” I whisper.
“And I guess you can’t do a signature” Milanne sighs.
I stare at the floor, feeling so stupid.
Milanne stands up tall, “I’ll give you a name then. I’ll call you Sine nomine, it means nameless in Latin”
I nod.
“This is my secret. You will keep it secret too” says Milanne and pulls a piece of cloth away from the table, revealing something I could have never imagined...
Part Six
It was like nothing I had seen before. I cannot describe what lay on the table. It’s colour was new, an unknown colour that only if you saw it could you describe it’s beauty. It was like a jewel, but shone in a weird way, lighting up the whole chamber; and now, the chamber didn’t seem bare, it felt like there was space for life. And for the first time in 13 years; I smiled.
Part Seven
“This” Milanne said, “Can take you back in time”
And from that moment on, I knew I needed that crystal.
Part Eight
“Sine nomine; I need you to test the crystal. Go back in time to the Victorians, then come straight back” Milanne told me, “Imagine the Victorians in London. Then all you have to do is imagine this jewel, to come back here. Remember, though, it only works 2 ti-”
“I know, I know!” I nodded and held the stone in my fist, and imagined the picture Mr. Milanne had shown me; and then I saw...
Part Nine
...the week just before mamma died. And I laughed. Of course I would have been taken here; this week had been on my mind since the day she died. I was in the hospital with mamma. I was reading her a story.
“...and then Jenny and Michael came home for tea. “Where have you been?” Their mother laughed, “You look as though you’ve been to the Moon and back!”. Their Mother had no idea how true that was!” I finished, smiling at mamma.
“You are a brave girl” mamma said, and then she told me the only lie I ever forgave, “You’ll get through life just fine”
Then she smiled.
Part Ten
She couldn’t talk after the week was over. On October 27th mamma died.
I wanted to see her again, so I held the strange, glowing rock in my hand, and thought of the day me and mum went to the seaside.
We played in the sea and I forgot about the future, and relaxed. I was so happy! I laughed and played and smiled. It was heaven.
Part Eleven
Years and years went by and I loved this life and I forgot about the stone which I had hidden under a stone slab in the garden.
Then one day, we got a letter that mamma was in hospital for cancer, and my world collapsed.
Part Twelve
I needed to find the jewel. I told Dad I was going to get some fresh air.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be OK” Dad smiled. LIE.
I nodded, even though I knew the truth, and ran into the garden. I lifted up the slate; saw the glimmering stone; and realised, remembering what Mr. Milanne had told me; that the jewel could only be used twice; and that I would have to re-live my life again, and again, and forever.
Now I didn’t love the stone, I hated it, and I smashed it up into little pieces, and I cried.
No comments:
Post a Comment