expire

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If there was one thing I would miss about this place, it would be the park. After plugging in my ear buds and eating half a bowl of leftover frosties, I trudged down the stairs, possibly for the second-til-last time in my life (I still had one more trip down them for all the boxes of stuff), and headed towards the park. For once it wasn't drizzling, so my hooded parka was absent for the first time in at least a month. I wore my jacket instead, glad to have finally fit into one of mum's good quality hand-me-downs. The rest of her clothes were all baggy and discoloured, a result you get from throwing them in the washing machine among the wrong colour wash.

I swept the dew off of the swing with the tip of my sleeve, and perched on the edge of the cracked plastic, wishing hard that I wouldn't get a wet patch on my jeans. Having been here so many times before, I had become accustomed to it's constant vacant space, and endless quiet. I knew I couldn't stay here long; we would be leaving soon, and I couldn't trust Alice and Maggie to lug all 20 boxes down the stairs without spillage. Besides, who knows when the teenagers might decide to attack?

I slowly nudged myself forward, swinging slowly, accompanied only by the creak of rusty hinges. The wind whistled past, and I clutched my jacket together tighter, tucking my hair behind my ears. The duplicate swing beside me swung forward with the wind, and I shivered, the wind now biting at my bare face and hands. With one last, wistful look at the park, I reluctantly pushed off from the swing and scampered back home.

As I arrived back home, I could see that the van loading was well under way. Some kind of chain-gang had formed, and as I watched, Maggie emerged from inside the building, arms encircled around a heavy-looking cardboard box, and dropped it on the ground beside a number of others just like it. Then one of the removal guys picked it up and lugged it all the way across the road and into the moving van parked askew beside the pavement.

“Need a hand with that?” I called, running over the road to help my sister with a box she seemed to have disappeared behind, it was so big. I could only hope that it wasn't the one with my underwear in.

“Uh-huh,” came the muffled reply, as she let it fall to the floor, a small puff of dust erupting from within. Oh good, it must be Alice's 'animal' collection. They had inhabited the very top of the twins' wardrobe, where all toys ended up once they were 'abandoned', and all they did was gather a thick layer of dust. But Alice had refused to get rid of them, despite Mum's and my many efforts; it's no wonder she caught all those colds last year! Maybe I could sneak them into the charity bag when she wasn't watching...

“Ivy!!! look after that box please; my animals are inside and they're very precious!”

guess not.

The next thing I knew, I was slouching down in the front seat of Mum's car, staring out the window at the few people who could be bothered to come and say goodbye, waving farewell. But as we drew apart from the building I had known for five whole years of my life, my waving slowed, and became too animated to be considered a proper 'goodbye'. Something in my heart tugged sharply at the thought of leaving this place, this horrid, dirty, teenager-infested block of flats, and although I was glad to finally move out into a new town, with a new home, a tiny part of me still wished I could stay here.

Thankfully, the radio dragged me away from my unsettling thoughts, as Mum turned it up and started singing along to some old song I had never heard before. Alice and Maggie started to hum along with the tune, and so I played along with their good mood, and soon we were all yelling at the top of our lungs, making up the lyrics as we went along; goodness knows what we sounded like to people on the street. But, unlike any other time, I wasn't embarrassed; I was happy. The feeling was almost electric, but not quite. I hadn't been this happy since....since before my Dad left.

We only see him a few times every year now, but it's not the way you think. He and Mum are still married, only he fights in Afghanistan, and can't come home very often. He can't come home because he's needed over there. Even though we need him over here sometimes.

Then the song ended, and Mum laughed, and I'd never seen her so happy; it was an idyllic scene. Like one of those ones you see on TV with the 'perfect' family, all smiles and laughter. And so I laughed too, along with Alice, and Maggie, and for a moment it was perfect. I looked out the window, out at the fresh green fields flying past in a blur, and the trees with dappled sunlight dripping through the leaves and for the first time, I was actually excited. It was really happening.

I looked over at Mum, and for a second we shared one of those smiles that always seems to mean more than just a smile; more than just a facial expression.

But what, I would never know.

How would I know now?

How was I to know that at that exact same moment, a truck driver answered his mobile whilst driving, and lost control of his steering wheel. How he crushed our car like it was no more than a piece of china, smattering glass all over the road; how I was jolted out of my seat and shoved through the front window.

How was I supposed to know that just a phone call could cut me off?