The doorbell rang and I groaned and turned over. I winced as I felt something stab me in the back.
My head throbbed, my neck ached and my face was stiff with dried blood. I realised I was still lying on the wooden floorboards, surrounded by nails, from last nights encounter with Dad.
I heard footsteps and my Mother stomp across the hall to aswer the door. I heard Wendy the social worker's pitying, soothing voice. They all had the same tone - sugar sweet and plastered in falseness, like your favourite sticky treat. She was definately not my favourite.
"Hi there, um, Carol. I called yesterday but no one was in. How are you? May I come in?" Mum grunted and after a few moments the door clicked shut. They walked past the room I was in. Wendy paused; "Oh! Um, Gemma, isn't it? Is she okay? Why is she on the floor?" Concern laced her voice. My heart soared - she'd finally noticed how I was being treated!
"The little madam - I gave her some money to buy some nice clothes and she went out last night and used they money to poison herself with alcohol. She came in past midnight, completely out of it. I tried to put her to bed, but she was so violent I couldn't go near her."
"Oh, teenagers, huh? Looks like she's learnt her lesson, though!" Her tone was bright, but hinted disappointment, and surprise. She tutted and shook her head crossly. I gasped at the unfairness.
My heart sank. Literally, right down to my toes and through the gaps in the floorboards.
Sitting up slowly, I rubbed my back and groaned. I hobbled upstairs and took advantage of using the shower. I wasn't allowed to use the shower but while Wendy was here Mum couldn't do anything. The hot, powerful beads of water blasted my skin and soothed my muscles, streaming through my blonde waves, blissfully. I reluctantly stepped out of the shower and threw on the same clothes I'd worn yesterday. I didn't have many clothes, and they were usually from the charity shop. I didn't mind - I wasn't used to anything else.
Glancing out of the window, the emerald green leaves of the woods seemed to call me, and beore I knew it my old converse were scuffing the pavement, treading closer and closer towards the woods.
The familiar sweet smell of berries and chive plants wafted up my nostrils and the sounds of birds flitting about entered my ears and re-energised me. I took off my shoes and stepped bare-footed across the green carpet, the springy, soft plant comforting me, my only comfort in the world. The stiffness from my tender muscles had worn off and the scents and sounds of the woods had me leaping about, the magical greenery spreading across my body.
I wandered around the woods a while, picking off berries, flavour exploding in my mouth like fireworks, sourness, bitterness and sweetness. I trailed my fingers along the gnarled bark, my story engraved deep in the tree. I got 1 meter away from a rabbit (a new record for me!), a little brown rabbit with caramel flecks and firey eyes. I did cartwheels across the green carpet, dotted with fowers that I tumbled into everytime my cartwheels failed (quite often). After roaming around for a while I settled down under my tree, and began scrawling down some poetic sounding words into my little diary.
My eyelids drooped and I almost let myself fall into unconsiessnes on the springy moss bed when something stopped me.
It was weird... like... there was someone... I snapped my head up and froze in fear, an icy hand gripping and squeezing my heart with all its might as I realised I was not alone in the woods; someone was watching me.
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More to come - if you like it so far please vote or comment :-))))))))))))
Gemma's Mum to the side! ---->
xx
YOU ARE READING
The Woods (unfinished)
Teen FictionGemma Jones does not belong. Her family are alcoholic drug users who enjoy making her life a misery. People shove past her at school like she is invisible. She is a lonely teenager, with no one to make her feel welcome in the world. The only place...
