This is a story about two girls, one of them a rebellious runaway who's trying to find her way through life, away from the comfort of family. The second a girl who's been institutionalised and controls everyone she sees. But fates change when these two girls meet; Breaking the rules and keeping their love a secret, all whilst harbouring a schizophrenic, they plan to change eachother's lives forever.


The wind blew cold outside; the trees were blowing wildly from side to side as their roots were forced away from their beloved soil.

It was a dull night and a garden that would usually be described as ‘full of life’, bright and cheerful was now becoming a mess of broken branches and tattered plants. Although the storm blew loud, the house on Amapple Street was silent. The young girl who lived there was as quiet as a mouse; her suitcase didn’t dare reveal her by banging on the brown-carpeted stairs as she descended them. The house was deadly silent, but what else would you expect at three in the morning? The small, silver key was where it should be, lying innocently on the temperature control; parallel to the door although that wasn’t her main concern at this moment in time; the suitcase was carefully and soundlessly placed in the shadows.

There was a half empty bag pack already sitting on the kitchen table, patiently awaiting her return, she rummaged through the cupboards as quietly as she could; the cold of the tins freezing her fingers but she knew she couldn’t take anything else, abruptly and just as she had started to place the last tin in the bag her ears pricked up and she heard a foot place itself on the squeaky step that began a descent down the stairs. A hand was quickly placed to silence the gasping noise from a shivering mouth. A small boy of around 6 years old; with short brown hair and sleepy eyes; wandered into the room just as the door to the downstairs bathroom silently shut. The light wasn’t on, he couldn’t reach without his safety ladders and he was too tired to search for them. The hushed breathing noises were not heard although they sounded like a hurricane to the person making them. The light to the fridge came on and the buzzing it made got louder, a few glasses chinked but after a matter of moments it closed and the boy wandered back into the darkness.

The cowering girl in the small room waited a while before leaving the claustrophobic space. A sigh was let out at risk but it was needed. The cutlery drawer made quite a racket; even when opened cautiously so even though she was froze in fear, the tin opener was slowly lifted out and cushioned against a bag. When she had everything, the bag pack was lifted and flung onto her back and her feet set way for the hall. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope that she proceeded to smoothen and swap with the key that glistened with innocence. Her eyes gazed over at the family portrait and a memory flashed back; they had spent hours getting everything prepared for this photo-shoot, it was worth all the money they’d spent on it. A middle aged woman was fumbling about with what looked like her husband-‘s tie, she was doing it one handed because she had her recently born baby in the other arm. A lovely little girl was sat patiently in a long flowing dress (that she wouldn’t stop wearing for the rest of a good few weeks) swinging her leg back and forth; the woman smiled at her and looked happy with how she was. The baby boy was passed to the little girl as the mother had given up trying one handed tie fixing and the gorgeous little boy pointed at her and said ‘Danger’ – his first word.’.

A kiss found its way to the glass of the photo and a tear appeared in a young girls eye, the girl in question had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, where she was going she had to be strong, she couldn’t be crying at every little thing or she would be taken advantage of, made fun of and not be taken seriously. The tear flitted away from her eyelashes as she glanced one last time at the crumpled piece of her that was left leaning against the wall, hovering on the temperature control, the letters written in her neatest writing that spelled out “Mom, Dad and Georgie x”. The innocent key began to turn and the lock silently clicked open, an icy blast of air hit her straight in the face so she pulled up her hood, reached for her suitcase and tiptoed away from life, as she knew it...

The End

0 comments about this story Feed