Marg on the other hand was different. She was what most of us would call bogan. She didn't pay for school fees neither did she love me. All she cared about were, clothes, bags, shoes, makeup, her hair and that dreadful nail polish. The whole house was full of the ghastly smell, it burned the nose hairs and teared the eyes. She couldn't even cook, ma made wonderful food from around the world, it tasted amazing. Marg got fish and chips from the corner shop, it was drowned in grease and the chicken salt was never ending. Most nights would be spent in front of the television watching Home and Away.
I started at my soon to be mother. She was playing with her hair like nothing had happened. I gave her a filthy smirk then ran to my room. It was my temple, pictures of ma were all over the walls. I sat on my bed at stared at one of them, it was the day at the park, she was wearing a red blouse and jeans, and she was amazing. I often spoke to those pictures, "ma what have I done to deserve this?" No answer, of course there wouldn't be an answer, she was just a memory now. I stared at the picture for about half an hour then I snapped out of my dream. I went downstairs and realized it was past 6 already.
YOU ARE READING
The silence was deafening
Historia CortaThe story of a teenage boy watching his life crumble before him, he must learn to live through his days with a stepmother dictator or he will be a case for the police.
