Black Angel

A trip down memory lane: 2

Hiya guys, 

soz, but this chapter is unedited as is the first!  

plz point out any mistakes that you see so that i can correct them - thanks!!! 

xxsaffiyaxx 

xxx

Chapter 2 - A Trip Down Memory Lane

Enveloped in darkness, I lay on my queen sized bed, gazing at the glow stick stars stuck to my black painted ceiling; my hands grasping at my duvet as I filtered through old and painful memories:

Max (once one of the best people in my life) coming back from a phone call hard faced and cruel. Max wasting away and blocking me out. Max leaving out of the blue without a single word of farewell - without an explanation. Rumour had it that he was coming back tomorrow. I was eager to approach him and welcome him back with open arms - but what would his reaction be? Would he want to resume our friendship? Or would he be the angry, closed off boy that had left me three years ago?

Deciding I didn’t want to wallow in bad memories and doubt, I tried to think of all the good memories I shared with him. There were loads whirring through my brain but I found myself being sucked into one of our most mischievous moments.

We were in a basketball court next to a bustling park and a pond full of bobbing ducks. Max had attempted to play a basketball match with me, but I had failed miserably. He was now showing off his basketball skills by shooting hoops backwards. I had been daydreaming as I watched him and most of the day dreams revolved around him getting embarrassed as one of his 'amazing' shots backfired. My daydreams soon got a little bit far-fetched so I snapped out of my reverie and carried on watching him.

To my complete and utter delight one of his shots bounced off the basketball hoop and hit him on the back of his head. It seemed to happen in slow motion but still caught Max by surprise. I attempted and failed to conceal my laughter as the unexpected force of the ball nearly toppled him over. Luckily, he caught himself before he hit the ground. By this time, I was in hysterics. His pride and ego damaged, Max got the ball and attempted to chuck it at me.

With my fast reflexes, I ducked. Turning to watch the ball, I watched it soar through the air and knock a Doughnut straight out  the hands of a moody policeman. I continued to watch in both horror and amusement as the basketball bounced off the man’s balled fist and landed on a plump duck. The duck flailed around like crazy before sinking like a dead weight into the murky depths of the pond water. Poor duck.

Staring at the disaster that had unfolded, I slowly turned to max. The fear plastered across his face mirrored mine. All it took him was one glance at the bald policeman who, by now, was spluttering with anger, to grab my hand and leg it. When we had finally gotten to the safety of my house, we had collapsed in a heap on the living room floor, rocking with laughter. We had a funeral for Dot (the duck) later that day, but still found the situation with the policeman hilarious.

 I smiled to myself wistfully as I remembered the good times, and bad times and how Max could always manage to wriggle us out of any trouble. Our parents always used to call us cheeky little devils. I can almost still hear them yelling: "You cheeky little devils get back here!" We would always reply with a cute grin stretching from ear to ear; puppy dog eyes and our catch phrase: "Calm down mum, dad, we’re your little angles."