A Collection of Short/Long Stories I've Written;

Chapter Four

Two or three more chapters left! Nearly there! Bare in mind, people, the ending isn't what you'll expect!

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When November left, under the picket fence, she’d told herself that there was no turning back from here, and she’d just have to go forward. Still, anything was better than the hell that home was itself.

November’s heart was beating so fast, she thought it was to jump straight out and into her throat. But it didn’t, and she was only worrying. She hesitated at the door while wiping her sweaty hands on her trousers.

Over the years, November had traded friends for violence, and success for distress. She could have had it – the good life. If the pattern in life changed, and her mom didn’t die, she’d still be in her happy family, her happy life, she’d be finishing school in the next year and then she could have gone onto college, and university. But that was what could have been, not what is and will be.

And where she was now, was now, it was who she’d be.

Plucking up the courage, she finally balled her hand up into a fist and pounded it against the door.

She was cold, tired, hungry and where the bag had been digging in from the hours of having it on her back, her shoulders were sore.

The door opened, and revealed a young lad, with long swishy dirt blonde hair. He had green eyes and was wearing nothing but a pair of beaten down jeans.

“Oh,” he said, surprised that there was a girl at his door. “Hello…”

“Hi,” November said quietly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you.”

“Drake!” November heard someone shout. “Who’s there?”

The boy turned around and called inside, “It was a bird, Giles. I’m going to go and get some fire wood. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh,” the voice replied, again, “okay.”

Drake, the blonde guy, turned back around and smiled warmly at November. “Sorry, about that…” he apologised before taking a step out into the open, next to November and then turned and closed the door.

“Um, I’m Drake…” the boy started, not knowing what to say to a girl who just turned up at his door. He hadn’t had much experience with girls. Drake and his best-friend, Giles, lived in the middle of the woods, on the outskirts of London – believe it or not, there was still a little woodland left in London, and in the middle, was an old hut, completed with electricity and water, and everything else. It was very private, and although they still paid their bills, the two boys liked living away from the city.

“I’m November Macey.”

“That’s cool!” Drake replied, “You have the same name as the mayor’s daughter.”

“I am the mayors’ daughter.” November replied, a little annoyed, at the mention of her father.

“Y-You are?”

“Uh-huh. And anyways, how did you know who I am?”

“Oh, um, my dad works for your dad.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Dennis Marshal.”

November didn’t have a clue who this man was, not a single clue. But she pretended she did, for her own sake.

“Oh yeah, Dennis…”

“Small world isn’t it?”

“Yeap.”