Four - Erin

I woke to the sound of someone - three guesses whom - pounding on my door and shouting at me to get up because she needed someone – again, three guesses – to go and collect her dress from the drycleaners. I reluctantly lifted my head, discovering in the process that I was still sat on the narrow ledge of my windowsill, and called that I would down in a few minutes.

I heard Michelle mutter something about ‘Lazy Teenagers’ as she walked away, the floorboards creaking in that loud obnoxious way which floorboards seem prone to do. Rolling my eyes I climbed over my bed onto the floor, picking up a clean pair of frayed jeans and a thin, grey, v-neck pullover, and making my way into the bathroom across the landing.

I managed to shower in a record 60 seconds, grabbing my turquoise towel off the radiator before the freezing air could make me shiver. Two minutes later I was making my way down the stairs, fully dressed, teeth brushed, and dreads pulled back and tied with a bright green ribbon.

At the bottom of the stairs I pulled on my falling apart trainers and called to Michelle in the kitchen.

“I’m just leaving now,” I told her, “Is there anything else you need while I’m out?”

“Yes, you can get me some milk and a couple of loaves of bread,” she placed a fiver in my open palm, “And don’t shout – Richard is still asleep.”

“No I’m not,” Richard denied as he lumbered down the stairs, beer belly hanging over his pyjama bottoms, “and you can get me another box of Stella while you’re out.”

“I can’t buy alcohol, I’m too young,” I replied, not bothering to look at his permanently scowling face.

“What use is that – foster daughter and she can’t even buy us booze…?”

I ignored him, looking instead toward Michelle.

“Semi-skimmed and Medium White?”

She looked at me scathingly, “Isn’t it always?”

“Yes,” I muttered under my breath as I turned to the door, “but we all know that your favourite game is changing the rules without telling me.”

I walked out into the bright sunshine, shutting the door on Michelle’s reminder that she wanted all her change back – I would pay for that later, she hated it when I ignored her – and made my way down the street, shivering with cold as a frosty breeze blew across my face. In my hurry to leave the house I had neglected to retrieve my coat and scarf from the hook in the hall, and, my gloves being in the pocket of my coat, I was without proper protection from the cold.

I swore quietly under my breath, contemplating going back for them, but the thought of Michelle soon put that idea from my head. I would have to manage without.

I walked more quickly, shoving my hands into my armpits to keep them warm, and wishing, not for the first time, that I still lived with the kind and caring Thomas’, my previous foster parents.

 

Reviews

[Beatrice Mars]

'the floorboards creaking in that loud obnoxious way which floorboards seem prone to do'

I love that line!

[Beatrice Mars]

love it again!