Jake Scott

Jake Scott, The Adventure Begins... By Phoebe Johnson (not Emily Johnson)

A very un-normal day

Hi, I'm Jake Scott, a regular 14 year old kid who lives with his mum, Sally.

Today is the third of March 2019(Friday at last!).I got home after school, it seemed to be just another  normal day until I opened the bright green door of my house, now I decide things aren't so normal.

The house was trashed,  tables pushed over, vases smashed and draws pulled out with their contents spilled out all over the floor. I stood there dumbfounded, then I heard a faint noise coming from the kitchen, was that sobbing?

I picked my way through the hall, past the lounge room and into the kitchen, to find Mum sitting on the floor in the corner of the room balling her eyes out.

'Mum' I cry.

She looked up with a worried and angry expression on her face and her eyes were red from crying, when she realised who I was she put her head back into her hands and continued to cry. 

'Are you hurt?' I say with  worry building up inside me as I sat down next to her putting my arm around her gently.

When she doesn't reply I try to comfort her by telling her that everything will be okay.

'No, no its not', she cries.

'They are coming for you Jake, RUN!"

'Who?' I question. 'Who is coming for me?'

'All of them, you must leave now there is no time.'

She curls up into a ball hiding her face from me. Who is coming for me what does she mean there is no time?

As I take Mum upstairs she clings to my arm telling me to run and that they are coming for me. Although I was confused, I try to stay calm. I tell her not to worry, I won't let anyone get near me, whoever 'they' are.

When we get in to her room the bed was turned over and all her clothes were scatted on the floor. I flip the bed back over and help her lay down on it. 

I make her a warm cup of herbal tea, (that always seems to calm her down ) and then I go back down stairs to clean up.

As I was cleaning up I had a lot of time to think about what had happened. After an hour or two of thinking I came to a conclusion. Either I was going mad, Mum was going mad, or I really was in serious trouble. If only Dad were here...