'Josey you div, you make a shit roach.' I laughed, he acts like he loves smoking bud but he can't even make a decent roach. 'oh shut up bell end and come table this?' I took hold, tabled for him and no surprise there, I had to roll it too. I sparked the joint and looked up. The defiant sky adorned itself with brilliant reds and oranges, clothed itself in garish splendor. 'How beautiful' I thought, although there's a pretty bad storm forecast for tonight. The sky often reminded me of grandpa. He took me in when my mum first went to rehab. Those days were good, till she started drinking again. Grandpa and I used to camp out when I was younger, it's the one thing that I looked forward to and it was so much fun. He used to call me 'angel.' I was his little angel, and now he's mine. he died when I was 10.
I only have my mum. Dad's dead.
'HEY' Josey screamed, making me jump. 'It's 6, you've got to meet your new social worker at half past, you'd better get off.' A loud laugh escaped from my throat, 'if you think you're getting rid of me that easily you can think again. I've only seen you for like 15 minutes today, that's shit.' I looked deep into his brown eyes, this boy was the closest thing I had to a best friend. He stared back at me, 'you can't be late Hannah. I'll walk back with you if you'd like?' 'it's okay Jo, I could do with the walk back to sort my head out. I'll see you soon, text me ok?' and with that, he cuddled me close, his body was warm and I suddenly realized I felt safe for the first time in a long, long time. His cologne - peppermint & and his favourite aftershave, made me feel like home.
He kissed me softly on my forehead, 'let me know how it goes! I'll see you tomorrow.'
That's real friendship I tell you. He travelled 3 hours to come see me for less than an hour.
I started walking, trying to steady myself for the journey home. I could feel my head spinning from being so anxious and tears beginning to stream down my face, 'I know what's going to happen tonight, as soon as she see's the state mum is in, she'll take me away. I just know it.'
YOU ARE READING
The life of Hannah.
Ficção AdolescenteI guess this isn't the best way to start but I tend to give the irrelevant details before the relevant ones. My name is Hannah. If I was to meet you for the first time, perhaps I'd say I was your average 15 year old girl; but I'd be lying not only t...