Later, I awoke from a nightmare of bumbling Policemen and girls with tight curled hair, morphing into menacing Bosses knocking down the lives of Mr. Craig and I, like we were just dominoes, every fall causing another life to take the plunge. I only awoke because of the dormant hunger that had suddenly spread to every bone in my simple structure. My stomach told me it was lunchtime. The curtains could no longer contain the midday sun-flow, whose brilliance outdid any torchlight from the night before. It seemed too bright a day- too jolly- to be the one after Mr. Craig’s soul had departed our World.

My door was open, as I must have drifted to sleep without my knowledge, and from downstairs I could smell burning. I jumped up and realised that I had fallen asleep in my casual day-clothes; I was exhausted and upset, and sprinted to the source of the sour burning.

My mother was sprinting round the kitchen yelling at Ben who was at the stove stirring some mixture in a pan, simmering on the boil. I tiptoed round her, now hopping from one foot to the other, and approached my maniac brother and his, now steaming, pot.

“What is it?” I asked more nervously than I had hoped to appear whilst gazing at white gunk, but by now my nerves were in ruins after the dream, so I had an excuse. Ben grabbed some freshly sliced cucumber from nearby the saucepan and chucked it in before saying:

“Cucumber yoghurt.”

“Who makes cucumber yoghurt anymore? I thought it was a Jordanian delicacy? And why are you heating it-I thought it was served cold?”

My brother shrugged, “Search me-I’m just following instructions.”

“Uh huh…” I said, picking up the splattered piece of paper, “Instructions that say specifically ‘don’t cook’?”

“What?! Gimme that!” Cried my brother snatching the recipe from my hand, but I wasn’t concentrating on him anymore; I was staring at the ‘cucumber yoghurt’. I loved cucumbers and tended to eat them regularly but I would never recognize the smell straight away, especially if they had been mixed with yoghurt. But then, I knew, without a doubt, that Mr. Craig had cucumber yoghurt smeared across his favourite jacket…

The End

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