Half-Faye

Chapter 1

 This year I was turning fourteen, ten years since my mum left me.

Ten years of stress for my dad and ten years of pain for me and no matter how much my step mum tried to pretend to love me, it would never be the same as my real mother.

 I tried hard not to think about my mum anymore, but usually it is when I am thinking hard that I think of her.

Take right now for example. I was unsuccessfully trying to complete my maths homework.

What awoke me from my daydream was the fact that my pencil was no longer a pencil. It's a pile of pulp. And I have chewed it all. I know it's a really disgusting habit, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't remember the last time I actually destroyed a pencil though.

Carefully scraping up the remains of the lead and pencil pulp I chucked it in the bin and walked over to my little bathroom and washed my mouth out with a couple swigs of water. After checking in the mirror that there are no are splinters in my teeth I returned to my desk and pulled out a brand new pencil and begin to work.

Soon enough I was satisfied with my efforts, I closed my book and put it back into my school bag for Monday, which is already crammed with junk. I placed the bag back on to the wooden floor beside my desk and stood up to stretch.

I was really tired after the party last night and wanted to rest, but I forced myself to finish my homework. Last thing I needed was detention again, my dad was still fuming after the last one.

Now that my maths was done my mind was aching for sleep. The feather quilt and pillows had never looked so inviting.

Before I could collapse onto my bed my phone gave a buzz from my bedside table. I picked it up cautiously and checked the message. It was from my best friend Sam. Relaxing and sitting down on my bed I press the button which will open the message.

Dear Flo,

I would appreciate it if you could meet me at the park this afternoon. Please reply.

Your friend Sam.

Chuckling at Sam's formality I quickly type a reply knowing it will annoy the hell out of her. She doesn’t talk like that, thankfully, but just has some obsessive thing about getting the most out of every message.

C u L8R

I drop my phone back onto the dresser and walk over to my cupboard. I pulled out some random clothes to get changed into out of my pyjamas. Then exhausted , I curled up on my bed and tried to get some shut-eye.

The afternoon came so fast that I had no idea what made it happen so fast. So before I knew it I was walking down the hall, making a detour to the kitchen to grab an apple and then the front door was swinging shut behind me.

As I happily munched on my apple, I walked to the park to meet Sam. That quick nap had doubled my energy so it was a slight quick walk. By the time I got there my apple was gone and my hands were sticky from the juice.

From the path I could see Sam sitting on the swings. Upon seeing me she waved for me to come to her. She had her hair down, and every now and then when the wind came past it would flick in her face and she would push it back behind her ear.

Laughing, I chucked the apple core into the nearest bin, and the jogged over to Sam, and sat on the swing beside her.

"Done anything this weekend?"  She asked, fighting with that bit of stubborn hair.

"Nah, just homework." I replied, kicking of my shoes so I could feel the grass with my toes, “Well actually, my parents had a party.”

"Same, except for the party bit though." she was smiling again, "You know that nerdy kid from room 8?"