My room was a place where I could scream, cry and laugh and no body could ever ask me to stop or question me why? I quickly got changed into my leggings and my top then remembered I was supposed to meet Lauren but I couldn't be bothered today, so I just texted her saying I wasn't in the mood. I sat on my bed with the one memory I had of my mother... a picture. I just stared at it wondering whether she was alive or what had happened to her that meant she wasn't with us? My heart sank at the thought of what may have happened to her, yet I never quite understood why no one ever spoke of her or told me about her? Whenever I tried to ask my father about my mother he would just change the subject or tell me to be quiet and never speak of it ever again. As I put the photo frame down I felt something cut my finger. It was something sharp and thin, the small cut seemed so big by the way it felt. Blood shot out of my finger like a volcano erupting and spilling lava everywhere. When I turned the photo frame over I saw the corner of a piece of paper sticking out of one of the hooks in the back of the photo frame. I had never seen that there before I had this photo frame for years and never once saw that but what was it? How did it get there? Who put it there? All these questions ran through my head as I tried to work out what exactly this papers purpose was? I slowly but carefully slid this piece of white hard paper out of one of corners of the frame...
But it was blank until I turned it over and at that moment I saw...
... something quite unique but what was it?
... a phone number with a unique address.
The phone number and address seemed to be very unusual, the phone number had 12 digits instead of 11 and they weren't all numbers it was a mixture of numbers and letters. But where had it come from...? Who put it there...? What was its purpose...? Why was it there...?
All these questions ran back and forth in my head like a Cheetah running after its prey. This didn't make any sense to me all these numbers and letters put together, it was like a totally different language to me. I struggled to make out the address it was a bit smudged and hard to read but I kind of figured it out... It read: 27 Roalf street, St. Albans square, A25 7RD. The name of this road sounded familiar and I figured out it was somewhere near Laurens house as her postcode started with A and she lived near St.Albans square. For a moment my mind went blank, I couldn't think properly, this address, the phone number (which was a combination of numbers and letters) and this photo frame containing my mothers photo, which also has this paper in. Was it somehow all linked?... But who put it there and WHY?... I needed an answer to all my questions but where would I get these answers? Who would help me? There was only one way...
Hi everyone, the next part of the story will be available soon I'm so sorry for the wait xx
