Spring here was warm enough to do without a jacket, I stood at the bus stop and checked my phone... 15 minutes I had to wait for the next bus. I leaned against the plastic wall of the bus shelter and the coldness made me feel a shiver down my spine. There was a little elderly lady sat in the bus shelter wearing a summer bonnet with paper flowers sewn into a pink ribbon and had a small red handkerchief in her hand, I smiled at her as our eyes met, she, squinted her eyes and gave me a friendly nod and smile. I checked my phone again hoping that time had sped forward but only one minute had passed since I last checked. Placing my school backpack down I rummaged into its depths to find my ear phones, plugged them into my phone and opened up my music app, scrolling through I found a fitting piece to waste the time listening to.
The number 2 bus trundled down the road, the elderly lady slowly stood, picked up her shopping bag and made her way to the edge of the pavement. I boarded the bus behind her showing the driver my weekly bus pass, the lady turned and smiled at me again as she sat down at the first available seat. I made my way to the back of the bus ear phones in and music loud I peered out of the window listening to the melodies that pleased my ears…
Being in a day dream for most of the journey, I suddenly noticed that I was nearing home and quickly fumbled to press the bus bell shouting down the bus “This stop please!” in case the bus driver had failed to notice the ringing of the bell. The bus slowed down to a halt and I quickly grabbed my bag and made my way down the bus. The elderly lady who boarded the bus with me had obviously disembarked whilst I was in my day dream, but walking down the bus I suddenly noticed the red handkerchief she had been holding on the floor next to where she had sat. I bent down to pick it up and made my way to where the driver was sat.
“Excuse me, I think that lady who got on with me dropped this before” I held up the handkerchief to the plastic window separating the bus driver from me.
The driver looked at me with disdain… “And what do you want me to do?”
“Well, couldn’t you take it back to lost property at the station?”
“No…listen love, I’m already running late… are you getting off here or not”
I looked to the seats on the bus, everyone was either listening to music or deep in thought reading something, not paying attention. I turned to the doors and muttered “thanks” to the driver as stepping down onto the pavement.
‘What do I do with this?’ I thought to myself as I started to walk in the direction of home, the handkerchief was a bold red colour with pale red embroidery stitching around the edges, in one of the corners the initials P.H. and an embodied picture of a poppy flower. ‘P.H?’ ‘I wonder if the P is for Poppy.’ I placed the handkerchief in my school bag side pocket and headed home.
My home wasn’t anything grand or special it was simple, we had a bit of a garden at the front and a wooden gate that obviously needed its hinging oiled. It would creak as you opened it, it made the type of noise that you would hear in horror movies when someone was slowly opening the door looking for the supernatural entity. It was a nuisance, if someone had forgot to lock it behind them, it would wake up the entire street on a windy night. I had been brought up in this house and it was the only place I had lived, it brought comfort and safety to me, I often thought of it as my safe place…
“You know you shouldn’t go and use that card for shopping that’s for emergencies only”
“It was an emergency you left me with no money to buy groceries, you had taken the bank card to work”
“You should have at least called and told me”
“You never answer your phone at work so what was the point?”
I heard my mum and dad arguing as I approached the front door, noticing that the kitchen window was opened for all of the street to hear. I opened the front door quietly and took my shoes off and placed my bag down, made my way into the kitchen and before acknowledging my mum or dad immediately headed to the window in the kitchen and closed it.
“You do know the whole street can hear you?”
“Jessy….Jessica?” My mum turned her head and looked at the large clock mounted on the wall
“Where have you been? It’s 6pm”?
“At School. I text you”
“You could have rang”
“I was in detention”
My dad looked at me with a stern face, he had the palm of his hands planted on the table leaning towards where my mother was sat at the opposite end of the table.
“Detention?” My Dad sneered. “What for?”
“I fell asleep in class and was caught” I thought that it was easier that telling lies and making up some fabricated story where It was actually the teacher that was in the wrong and I got punished was more effort than it was worth right now. I reached up into the cupboard at the other side of the kitchen looking for a glass and poured myself some water from the tap.
My Dad didn’t look impressed, I felt like saying something along the lines of…
“Well if you two didn’t argue until silly o’clock in the morning maybe I’d get some sleep and then I wouldn’t fall asleep in class…”
My dad bowed in head between his arms lifted up his head and walked toward me…looking at me as if he knew what I was thinking, almost looking apologetic, he placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Just go upstairs and mum will call you down when food is ready, I think we’re having pasta tonight”
I caught a glimpse of my mum whilst leaving the kitchen, her eyes were full of tears but she had fought it whilst I was there.
I grabbed my bag and made my way to my room, placed my glass of water on my desk and face planted the bed.
Why do they have to pretend they’re not arguing? Why do they have to pretend that nothing is wrong? What is going on, what is going to happen?
I could feel my eyes welling up with tears and I quickly sat up from the bed
“No! – Don’t cry, whatever you do don’t cry”
I held my breath, puffed out my cheeks and slapped them so the air was forced out of my mouth. I had managed to stop myself from crying. If they think I’m upset it will cause more arguments I thought. I could hear them continuing to bicker in the kitchen, albeit not as loud so I couldn’t make out what was being said.
I put my phone on charge and grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom.
I don’t have much of a beauty routine, I didn’t wear makeup although I owned some, the idea of getting up 30 minutes earlier for school just to put makeup on was not justifiable – I’d much prefer the 30 minutes in bed. I tied up my hair checking to make sure it was fully up in the mirror above the basin and filled the basin with water.
I splashed my face with warm water and with my eyes closed I fumbled around to find the soap and washed my face. I splashed my face once to rinse the soap off and squinted my eyes to look in the mirror to check if I had rinsed it all off…
The grey haired boy in blue was sat on the edge of the bath, I physically jumped from the ground and turned around 180 degrees whilst letting out a bit of a scream… a bit of...is an understatement…there was nothing there. I heard footsteps hurtling up the stairs and a knock on the bathroom door.
“Jessy, are you okay? I heard you scream”
“uh, yeah, sorry thought it was a spider”
“Oh okay”
My dad’s footsteps walked away and back downstairs.
I grabbed the towel and quickly dried my face. I checked the bathroom mirror again and I couldn’t see anything. I kept looking into the mirror, staring as hard at the spot where the boy appeared. Soon realising I hadn’t washed the soap off properly and my eyes started to string, I ran the tap and rinsed my face again.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I let my hair down out of the bun.
“I’m going crazy, yep”
“Pasta’s ready” Mum shouted from the bottom of the stairs.
I left the bathroom and made my way to downstairs to the kitchen table, my legs still wobbly and my heart still beating from the sheer adrenaline rush after what I had experienced in the bathroom.
Dad was getting the knives and forks out of the cutlery drawer whilst mum served up the pasta on plates. If anyone walked in right now it would seem like we were a happy family.
Comments (0)
See all