RosinaMature

"Oh my God! Have you heard?!" Shanade screams down the phone, pull it away from my ear and can still hear her.

"Heard what? I've been asleep all morning." I grumble from my bed.

"Joanna's dead!" My eyes spring open.

"What?!"

"Joanna-"

"I know what you said. Bloody hell, how did that happen?"

"She was murdered apparently, you should really be at school today, whattadayto miss!"

"Pardon? English please, Shan."

"What. A. Day. To. Miss."

"Oh, right. How is everyone?"

"Shell shocked, why aren't you here? What's you're excuse today?"

"Flu."

"Really?"

"No, I was just too tierd to get out of bed."

"Why?"

"Late night."

"Doing what?"

"Shan, what the fuck is this? An interagation?"

"No, people are pointing fingers at you though."

"Oh great, that's fucking fantastic!" I mutter, holding the mobile between my sholder and ear as I pull on some jeans.

"Right, well I'm off. The feds have just walked in."

"Alright, by-" She hangs up, "Well isn't that just charmin'?"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Open up! We know you're in there!"

Oh, great. This is fucking brilliant, the why-are-you-not-at-school-little-missy police are here, just what I need.

"Don't go," A somthing breathes in my ear.

I whirl around, "Who the fuck said that?!"

"I did, it's not who you think it is. Get out of there!"

"Oh and how am I ment to do that? I live in an effin' flat - on the top floor - in case you hadn't noticed!"

"OPEN UP!" The voice yell.

I look around manically for an escape root, my eyes rest on one. "Wondow," the voice and I say at the same time.

I quickly empy my school bag, and fill it with essentials. Clothes, a water bottle, toothbrush and paste, brush, my swiss army knife and some other bits and bobs.

I drag on a shirt and thick jumper, tie my bergandy hair up open my window and sneak outside the wind attacking my eyes making them water. I hear the door resound to the ground, I creep around the corner of the building. Well thank you very much faceless-voice.

"Don't look down if you're scared."

"Fuck you." Am now stranded on the side of a building, with the feds in my house - so to speak. This is why I hate Mondays.

The End

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