Over seven days from Monday 21st July, Only Me, a brand new short story, unfolds. Each part is precisely 140 characters in length (a tweet). You can follow the tale here, on Twitter or on Facebook.
Only Me ~ Part 4
"Where have you been?" Mum says (shouts). "A friend's." Mum doesn't know I don't have friends. "I said I wouldn't bloody go near him again!”
I duck too late. My cheek stings. "Watch your mouth! Where is this friend?" "23 Hawthorne Road," I reply, quick as a flash. She won't check.
"Thank goodness you're back in school next week," Mum says, gravy on her chin. I cannot see Dad, only the cryptic crossword and the weather.
"But I'm no bother," I say. "Better in school," Mum insists. "I'm going to my friend's again tomorrow." Mum nods. Because it's not the park.
"Thanks for my keyring," I say the next day, feeling bad that I thought he'd stolen it. He's pulling out another paper bag, this one bigger.
"But I haven't brought you anything," I say. "I want this back," he says. "I need you to keep it for me." He places it in my hands and nods.
It's heavier than it looks. I start to peel back the paper but he puts his hand out. "Don't. You mustn't open it. For your own good, don’t.”
Part 5 coming Friday 25th July
Only Me ~ Part 4
"Where have you been?" Mum says (shouts). "A friend's." Mum doesn't know I don't have friends. "I said I wouldn't bloody go near him again!”
I duck too late. My cheek stings. "Watch your mouth! Where is this friend?" "23 Hawthorne Road," I reply, quick as a flash. She won't check.
"Thank goodness you're back in school next week," Mum says, gravy on her chin. I cannot see Dad, only the cryptic crossword and the weather.
"But I'm no bother," I say. "Better in school," Mum insists. "I'm going to my friend's again tomorrow." Mum nods. Because it's not the park.
"Thanks for my keyring," I say the next day, feeling bad that I thought he'd stolen it. He's pulling out another paper bag, this one bigger.
"But I haven't brought you anything," I say. "I want this back," he says. "I need you to keep it for me." He places it in my hands and nods.
It's heavier than it looks. I start to peel back the paper but he puts his hand out. "Don't. You mustn't open it. For your own good, don’t.”
Part 5 coming Friday 25th July
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