Buried deep

Chapter 4

I awoke the next morning to an agonising headache. My mouth felt as if someone had pranked me by stuffing it with cotten wool. I hate hangovers. The only real reason I could ever see myself quiting drinking for was the morning after effects.

I stumbled out of bed to a hot cup of black coffee, bitter and awful. My mother gave me one dirty look and proceeded to make as much noise as she could. She was hell bent on making me suffer. Damn but I really love that woman sometimes and this was not one of them.

I seated myself at the kitchen table, looking and feeling like shit. My stomach was rumbling, I sure hoped it was from hunger. Now my mother normally serves me porridge in the mornings, but not when I have been drinking the night before. This morning it would be scrambled eggs, diced bacon, red, green and yellow peppers with mushrooms. Normally something I could stomach, but not now!

I was out the chair and worshiping the white porcelain god. This world is but a preperation for hell and my mother already has a job there, assigned to being my very own personal torturer. I made sure to clean up after myself, having learnt this the hard way. My mother had her voice set to destroy and I wished to save my ears and brain as much misery as possible.

I quickly brushed my teeth and showered, feeling almost half decent. I could hear my mother in the kitchen, as she made as much noise as she could. My head pounded along to the beats. I gathered my school clothes and got dressed. Even in my uniform I looked dishevelled.

I slunk into the kitchen, grabbed my lunch, which would be this mornings breakfast and made my escape. The sun slammed through my retina, as I threw the door open, searing my brain to a crisp. I froze like a deer in the headlights, as I tried to erase the pain. I slowly turned my head from the harsh sun light. So early in the morning and it was this bright already. I was doomed.

Behind me my mother stood with a glass of water and two headache tablets. On any other day, I would have laughed at calling them headache tablets. They take them away, unlike the name implies, but not today. Greedily I took those tablets and slammed the glass of water down as easily as I had the Old Brown Sherry.

"Thanks, mum." I whispered, before striking out into the hellish outside world. My mother just stood there shaking her head, with her hands on her hips. I just knew the next ten minutes to school would be the longest of my life. Though the next six hours till school got out would replace it. If hell is anything like school, I am going to stop sinning right now.

At school, I met Roger and Slash. We walked to the gathered crowd of students and teachers admiring our art work. You could see by the looks we got, we were prime suspects. A few times we were congratulated rather than asked if we had done it. We denied it vigorously though.

The bell from hell rang and though it hurt like hell, I was glad to see my two friends suffer with me. Sadistic but it made me feel better. We lined up and prepared for the shit storm to hit us. The principal stood upon the podium, loudspeaker in hand, surveying us all, though he kept pausing at us.

As he raised the loudspeaker to his mouth, I could not help thinking, here comes the pain. I gritted my teeth as he spoke, wishing he had not.

"This is an affront to the school that has been perpetrated here last night! The hoodlums involved in this will be expelled after cleaning this off!" He shouted, with the loudspeaker obscuring his mouth. His eyes fell on us, the three musketeers.

"This work screams your names," he screamed, pointing us out. He was going as red as a beetroot. From his neck till the top of his bald head. "The police will be here shortly to arrest you and I will ensure the book gets thrown at you!"

Teachers stood around nodding their heads at what had just been said to us. Their little witch hunt against us had just begun. Even though we were as guilty as Adam and Eve, they would not see us burn!

As one we cried out at this most foul of accusations, how dare he accuse us so, with no evidence. We were going to lie our arses off, it was the only logical thing to do.

"Oi!" I shouted back, instantly regretting it. My head pounded at my own raised voice. "For your information, as much as I would love to claim that as my work, it is not us!"

"I know it is you!" He bawled, spittle flying. This was going to be a long day, a long day indeed. The cop van had already pulled up on the school parking bay and disgorged its two occupants. They were steadily walking to the lot of us.

"Really," I shouted back, "So you saw us doing it! If you did you are a liar, as it was not us!"

Keep denying it, till they provided the proof was going to be our story and if they did have proof, we were still going to deny it. Never admit guilt and never rat your friends out. Then out of the blue, Shirley and Amanda stepped forth. Two visions of beauty in their school uniforms. Up until then, I had not even realized I had my glasses on.

"Sorry, sir, but it could not have been them...they were with us last night," we watched as the principal's jaw dropped open and then start to make fish motions as he tried to speak. "My mother will vouch for them as well."

The two police officers stood nearby waiting to be addressed, patiently observing the play before them. Shirley was my new hero! A smile crept across my face as I affirmed her words. We might just get away with this.

"I will confirm this with your mother." He quietly said, before stalking off with the two officers in tow to his office. Everyone broke out in chatter with each other and it took a few moments for the teachers to restore order. Soon they had us all marching in single file into our classrooms.

The police eventually departed, not having arrested anyone and as for the three musketeers and the two gorgeous heroines, we were confined to detention, till we got the graffiti cleaned off. They did not care that they could not prove it was us, but they would make someone pay for the crime and it would be us.

That week in detention I got to know Shirley better, I even asked her out on a date for Friday night. She was sexy in her night clothes, even sexier in her school uniform. I could not wait to see her in civvies or without them.

Here I stopped writing as the light finally died. There would be no fires from us this night. We would take turns keeping watch, while we rested. Tomorrow we have a long trek to make to safety, where I hope to get more time to write about my love Shirley. I have first watch, so I better get to it.