A fatal step

“My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Panic at the disco...” A girl in black was scrolling through her black iPod, as her frizzy, black hair covered her pale face. “Whatcha doin’ emo”. Another kid, from out of nowhere sat beside her with a massive grin on his face, “What do you want?” she said, sissing as she spoke. “’O’ right fatty, don’t talk to me like dat ya scum bag!” The boy shouted. All of a sudden a gang of boys, wearing hoodies, ran up to the boy and the girl. They were laughing, as loudly as they could. They began pointing their fingers at the girl. That girl, was me...

“I have been bullied at school for most of my life! I don’t understand why? I mean, I’m a kind, caring and honest person and I don’t deserve this!” I was talking to the school counsellor about the confrontations I’d been having lately. “I’m being beaten up, mentally abused, and they’re always making my life just that little bit harder!” The lady, who was wearing a violet dress, was sat opposite me. Her brunette hair was as straight as her lips. I looked around, books littered around the room, pens and pencils, scattered along the tables, posters, hanging on walls. I turned back around. The ladies eyes, green as grass, stared at me. I felt slightly uneasy, but I knew I could trust this woman. Finally she spoke

“Have you spoken to your mother about this?” My heart stopped. My eyes glared at hers. She didn’t mean to hurt me, but the memories. Horrible. Dreadful. Devastating. “She’s dead”. I forced myself out to say it. She had lung cancer you see. It was horrible enough that she was dying, but to actually see her eyes fading away. To see her skin go paler by the second. To see her husband’s eyes water and she couldn’t go anything about it. My eyes were beginning to water. I looked up. I blamed god for this. It was god’s fault that my mother had to die the way she did. Painfully. Why her?

All of a sudden a handkerchief was open in her hand. “Would you like some tissue, darling” she spoke. I looked at her. Her face showed a sympathetic smile. I took the handkerchief from her. “Thanks” I replied. I blew my nose into the tissue when she continued “Have you spoken to your father about this?” A tear dropped down my face, while I was still thinking about the dreadful day at the hospital, the day my mother was taken from me. Another tear rolled down my face. Why did God do these actions? How could he? It isn’t fair! She was the kindest woman in the world and her life was taken, at the age of 33! 33!

I sniffed again, into the tissue. I took a deep breath. I felt more relaxed. “He just tells me to ignore it” I muttered. Now the woman’s face was looking at me as if I had been neglected, concerned, yet wise. “Come with me” she told me. It was almost like a demand. Over the stress of talking about my mother, I got off the blue, plastic chair I was sitting on and stood beside the counsellor. Where were we going?
As we walked along the hallway, we came across the entrance door to the building. She opened the door and allowed me past first. Looking around, I could see the familiar sight of lines of cars. The schools parking lot. Now I was beginning to get worried. I stopped. The woman stopped just ahead of me and turned around “What’s wrong honey?” I looked at her. She was treating me like I was her daughter or something. I took a step. The step, that now that I look back, I should never have taken...

As we got to the car, my eyes glared at the sliver Porsche. “Wow nice car miss!” I screamed. She grinned. “Thanks, uhh, what’s your name?” she suddenly questioned “Hilary. Hilary Roscoe” I replied. “And by the way, where are we going? I should be in Maths” It was true, it was 10 past 11, and it was maths now. I was now thinking about my dad, who gets very worried for me, and his favourite team, Everton. I mean he’s always miserable when they lose, until they win again, the following week.

I was wondering what would happen if he knew I was leaving school with the schools counsellor. “Oh darling, I live opposite you, I’m just going to speak to your father, but you’ll have to stay in the car, whilst I talk” I was very worried now. I knew the school didn’t have any telephone lines connected. Teachers use their mobiles instead.

As I stepped into the car, the smell of strawberries woofed through my nose. It was quite pleasant actually. The neatness of the car, however, was as bad as the school. Crisp packets, everywhere. A rat’s heaven, if you asked me. Miss opened the front to get in too. She quickly pushed the key into the keyhole. The engine began to roar like a lion attacking its prey. She began to drive out the school gates. Houses, just an endless row of houses were on display as we drove past. I looked down, sweet wrappers, ripped magazines, chewing gum. The car was like a bin.

A few minutes later, I began to feel sleepy. I looked out the window after counting the amounts of discarded chewing gum. 16. 16 rolled up pieces of chewing gum. I looked out the windows. I saw green. I saw oak trees, pine trees, maple trees. I shook my head. We were in a forest. “Where are we miss, I think we are going the wrong way...” I said. What the hell was going on, I questioned in my mind. I began to hear a snigger of laughter. It was a trick...

“Don’t ignore me! Where are you taking me! I don’t deserve this! I’m just a child! You can’t treat me like this! Why are you taking me to a forest! This is insane!” I screamed. I was half thinking what I said and in no time at all, the car stopped. I was half expecting her to kick me out. But she didn’t. She got out the car and slammed the door. So I did too. “Why are we here? I’ve just told you about my bullying and my personal life!” Why are we here!?”

She glared at me. My eyes, like an owls quickly looked away. I was terrified. I wanted to be back at school, listening to panic at the Disco on my iPod, be in my maths class learning algebra, and at the same time look forward to lunch. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t at school; I was in the middle of a forest. All I wanted was to get out of here.

I glazed around, left to right, up to down and all around. A shed. A wooden, bungalow sized shed. From the corner of my eye, I could see her walking towards it. She was evil. She was going to kill me. There in a blink she stopped, and turned around. She had my full attention. She was holding something. Something silver. It wasn’t what I thought it was, was it? Well it was pointing at me, but you couldn’t really see it’s clear image from the distance. However in the back of my mind, I knew exactly what it was. It was... a gun

“Get in the shed now!” she demanded. I felt like a hostage, but I was one. I was petrified, terrified, horrified, all the words in the thesaurus that link to scared. I began to walk towards the shed. “Faster!” she screamed. I began to run towards the shed. Finally at the door. I waited until the woman came. The steps, foot by foot, as she demanded me to open the door. So I did. And inside were the most horrifying images I had ever seen in my life...

I was shivering from head to toe, as I saw pictures on the wall of dead bodies. This woman was twisted. If I ever got out of here, I would ring the police. “Sit on the couch, next to that thing with the bag!” she shouted. I jumped, surprised at the tone of her voice. I stared at the couch. And on it, a man with a Tesco bag around his head. It could be anybody. A pedo, a murderer, an assassin. The couch, white and ripped was a two seated love sofa. As white as the moon. My eyes were filled with tears as I was shivering. Head to toe. I slowly attempted to walk towards the seat, when the woman pushed me onto it. “AHH!!” I screamed. Then as quickly as you could say click, a loud noise of a gun was triggered.

Lying in a seeping pool of oozing red blood, was the body. I nervously took a step toward her. She was lying on the floor. Her spent gun beside her. Dead. I was shaken to the core. I couldn’t bear to look at her, cold, pale face. I quickly closed my eyes. It reminded me of my mother, in her last seconds of life.

Seconds later I heard a cry and turned around and reopened my lime green eyes. Sitting on the battered old sofa was her other victim. I slowly took a step. And another. And another. I thought my heart was about to explode out of my chest, like a ticking time bomb. Slowly but surely I grabbed the bag and removed it. It was a man. It was my father. “Daddy!” I cried. His eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky. “Hilary!” We were in each other’s arms. It felt like home, I knew I was safe.


“Come on darling, let’s go home.”