Zac Benson: A closed door, an open window.Mature

I crossed myself as the four men carried my grandma's coffin towards the burial place, I kept my head bowed and my eyes closed. I was one of the only family members stood here, my parents and my brothers, Dan and Pete, hadn't travelled back – European and American summer holidays were a busy season for them in Indonesia. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to do now, I had been planning on spending my summer with Grandma in Cornwall before starting my second year at LSE. It wasn't my top choice of places to spend summer, I really wanted to head back to my 'home' in Bali and spend a sick summer surfing and chilling on the beach. But stupidly I'd gone into overdraft during my freshers year and there went my money for a plane ticket back home. Spending a summer in Cornwall, however, wasn't going to be too bad – sea, sand and surf. But now Grandma's house had been taken by the bank and was being resold, suddenly I had nowhere to stay.

The funeral ended and I ambled back down the Cornish lane with the rest of the funeral-goers, there was a buffet being served in the village hall and I wasn't going to pass up free food - despite the fact I was the only person below sixty in the vicinity. I was sat at a table, sipping a lukewarm mug of tea and eating a dry scone, listening to people. Two of the woman, both who believed they owned the place were gossiping. 

“I can't believe she would do that!” Margaret, the head of the WI gasped,

“I know, neither could her mother!”

“What happened?!”

“Luckily her step-father, you know - the lawyer - managed to prevent her being sent to juvenile prison.”
“I see”

“But he didn't want her in the house this summer so he sent her to a teenage bootcamp!”

“What's that?”

“Teenagers go there to learn proper manners, recover from addictions and become...well better people.” The woman replied, I leaned across to hear better.

“We didn't have any of those when we were young, did we? Teenagers of this era are much worse behaved!”

“I know, but her mother was grateful that it was free - she couldn't afford much after spending all their savings on that house. The camp's situated on an island off the coast of south Devon, so it's not too far away either!”

I sat back in my chair and thought about the idea of spending a summer on an island, but before I knew it my throat began to burn for a drink. I got up and left for the pub.

Sat at the bar with a beer in my hand I watched my reflection in the brown translucent liquid. I had nowhere to go, this place was free and I could really do with restricting my alcohol consumption before my second year or else I'd never have enough money to get back home. I searched on my iPhone for the summer camp, a couple of results came up, I copied the number into my dialler and before I knew it I was on the bus heading to Salcombe.  

The End

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