“Mum,” Carmen called “I’m home!”
“Oh, hello sweetie!” her mum yelled from upstairs.
The Blakely house was more of a mansion, really.
3 stories high.
3!
Her dad was a chef and, growing up in a semi-detached flat with no less than 6 brothers, Lloyd decided to fork out on a monster of a house for his only daughter to enjoy. This logic was also lost on his wife.
Mr. Blakely had the bottom, Miss. Blakely had the middle and Mrs. Blakely had the top. Carmen never really got to choose; Dad wanted the kitchen and Mum wanted the windows so she could ‘inspire herself’. Which is strange, because none of her paintings had anything to do with the sky.
Carmen stumbled upstairs and collapsed on her bed; a day coping with her class is always a drain. It was one of those few days when Carmen was glad to be left alone. Usually, she just felt lonely and excluded from her family. Especially now that they’re both so busy with their big orders.
She didn’t want to get in the way; her artistic and culinary skills being virtually non-existent.
She sighed and stared at the homework notes scrawled on her arms.
History. Book damaged beyond use.
Science. Project would just be chucked around anyway.
Maths. To hell with it.
To hell with all of it.
Carmen stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror with both her hands in the sink.
What was the point of even bothering if the bullies would just destroy it? What was the point if it’d just result in a letter home worrying about her progress?
Answer: absolutely none.
Grabbing the soapy nailbrush and sneering at the mirror, Carmen began to scrub the pen off her arms.
This was the first day of the rest of her life.
She was taking a stand.
They’d have nothing to ruin tomorrow.
And maybe- one of these days- she’d stop coming into school altogether.
Yeah… She’d walk out the door to school, hide in the bushes until her parents left to do whatever, jump on the bins, swing off the window ledge, climb up the wall and get into her room.
Ooh: she must remember to leave her window ope-
“Why don’t I just use a key?”
Carmen stopped washing her arms and started to dry off.
She felt slightly better now that she knew what she could do if it got too much.
She dumped the towel on the floor and went to open the door.
Blood?
Pooling around her arms and leaving livid streaks down her arms.
YOU ARE READING
Origin (ON HOLD)
ActionLife was normal for Stanley Shrew, disappointing and uneventful. He even had his Mother making her lamb stew for tea that night. Then he stumbled across the story. The big story. The story that could change his life for the better. All he had to do...
