Becoming Israel

1. Pea brain.

When mum and dad call me downstairs for dinner, i ignore them. I'm on FaceTime with Abby and she's filling me in on all the drama from the last day at school. My phone is slumped lazily against my laptop in order to view her, it vibrates gently at the mass of sound exiting as she chatters away. Abby loves to gossip.

"And then i decided to confront Heather about everything and -" She looks over at me. "You should've been there, Issy!" She exclaims, her miniature hands waving around with enthusiasm on the screen.

"Yeah sorry about that, my stomach was playing up." I say. This is a weak explanation, and frankly, a lie also. Honestly, i would've loved to have been there for the last day. However, perhaps not with what appears to be a colossal bubo on my forehead, (which is thanks to my younger brother's inability to use a cricket bat properly.) Fortunately, my beanie pretty much covers it. It's a shame we can't wear them at school.

"What happened after you confronted her?" I ask, intrigued.

"Oh, it was hilarious! She looked petrified the poor soul. She kept saying 'i didn't mean to' - as if that's an excuse!" Abby mocks her reaction, a chuffed smile is planted on her face.

"Wow, i'd never have the confidence to confront someone like that!" I reply, feeding her ego.

Abby gets pleasure from starting drama. She's not one to turn down a confrontation and most definitely does not let an argument slide. Her bright ginger hair matches her fiery personality that so many are intimidated by - including me. Sly, confident and ruthless. A lethal enemy to have, but a useful ally. She sits there silently for a few seconds, gleaming with pride, before my phone interrupts with a light buzz.

"Ugh, my dad's texting me." I groan, opening his text, knowing it will be along the lines of 'dinners ready!'

From: Dad.
Come downstairs. We have an announcement and spag bowl both waiting for you... X

He adds the excited emoji as well as the spaghetti one for comical effect. I roll my eyes and gently smile. Middle aged men and emojis should never mix together. Ever. Nonetheless, i mentally reply before returning to my call with Abby.

"My dad wants me to go eat now." I sigh. I wanted to hear more about the last day at school.

"I thought you had a bad stomach?" She asks, confused. Yikes. I forgot about that. I suck at lying sometimes.

"I will not allow myself to starve!" I exclaim, nervously. "I mean, i'm taking baby steps. Anyway, i have to go. I'll probably see you sometime in the summer."

Abby looks suspicious yet waves to me nevertheless, and soon she disappears along with the ending beep - signalling the call has finished.

I throw my beanie onto my bed, allowing air to my head again - the heat of July is almost unbearable. The windows, however, remain shut as it's hotter outside than it is inside. Do you know the feeling? The white walls and furniture fool me into believing my room isn't a sauna, but it most definitely is.

Without further procrastination, i exit my room and begin to trudge downstairs. I conquer them two at a time, and manage to trip over my cat perched on the last step. His fragile demeanour becomes unsettled and alert at the action. He runs eagerly to the dining table, where i'm engulfed with the scent of spaghetti bolognese. My mum, dad and brother are all sat at the table, making conversation and fumbling their way through the meal. My mum is the first to greet me.

"About time, Issy! Come sit down, darling" She demands, dishing me a plate of bolognese.

"Mum, why do you always mix peas in with spag bowl?" I ask, peering down at the green little eyes on the plate staring up at me, before promptly sitting down. I pick up a fork and push them to the side - peas are the food of the devil.

"Oh. Sorry, honey! I always forget you don't like them." She says, apologetically. My dad chuckles behind his glass of wine. He too, shares my disliking.

My eleven year old brother is sat slumped in the chair opposite me, his eyes are fixated on something under the table: his tablet. Every so often, i watch his eyes dart into different directions; he must be playing an intense game on there. A wicked smile begins to itch at my mouth. My leg, under the table, swings up in an attempt to kick the tablet down. Successfully, my foot knocks it out of his hands before it tumbles to the floor with a thump. He peers over at me, half confused and half distraught.

"Hey! It was just getting good!" He cries out. I feel an odd sense of satisfaction receiving this reaction, i mentally high five myself.

My parents look to one another, perplexed, before inspecting the situation.

"Brady, no technology at the table." My mum orders.

"Which means none of this!" Dad adds, picking up the tablet from under the table and placing it on his lap. The sound from his previous game echoes in the background.

Brady rolls his eyes before they pan to the lump on my forehead.

"How's your third eye?" He questions, triumph flashes across his green eyes. I can tell he's proud of that one.

Defensively, i pick up a pea from the pile on my plate and flick it in his direction. It lands on his head.

"Pea brain." I state.

"Mum! Dad! Issy just peed on me!" He yelps, laughing to himself as the pea rolls onto the floor. I laugh also, whilst mum shakes her head and dad stifles another chuckle.

I'm too caught up on the comedy of the scene that i forget about the 'announcement' in which my dad had mentioned in his text.

"So what's this announcement then?" I ask casually. Brady suddenly perks up at this.

"Oh, so you don't ignore my texts!" Dad says.

That's awkward.

"Only when you use emojis - never do that again by the way." I respond. "But seriously what did you want to tell us?"

They look to each other nervously. Dad looks hesitant and Brady interested. My eyebrows furrow with confusion. What are they hiding from us?

The following words changed everything:

"We're moving house."

-

That's the first chapter! I hope you guys like it and let me know what i can improve on :) Please vote if it's of any interest to you!