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Pen Your Pride

Cross my heart and hope to die

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   "Darlin', put the washing in when the first load's finished, will you?" Mum asked.

"Sure, whatever. Bye." I replied, staring at the TV and hoping that she'd leave sooner.

"Promise?" Mum said, stopping in front of the TV.

"Move."

"Terri? Will you do it for me?"

"Yes, just move!" Mum moved out of the way and walked into the hallway, muttering a load of crap to herself. I sighed and continued flipping through the music channels, stopping only when there was a song or show on that I liked.

   When the comedy of this wore off, I checked the time on my phone. One forty three. I walked into the kitchen and made a cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich and poured myself a glass of grape and pineapple juice. I went in to the lounge, sat down and ate my lunch while watching The Jeremy Kyle Show

   When the phone rang, I muted the TV and picked up the hand set. "Hello?" I said.

"Hi. Umm, is Jane there?" A female voice asked.

"No, sorry, can I take a message?"

"Yes. Please. Can you tell Jane that Mel from work told her that Mick from work said she needs to send in her article by tomorrow evening or else her pay's going to be docked. Thanks. Bye." As soon as she'd finished speaking, I gave up on my manners and pressed the end call button.

   The ringing noise that told you that the washing machine cycle was finished, you know the 'beep beep beep' one, kept on ringing. "SOD OFF!" I yelled and pulled a throw pillow over my head.

   I woke up to the sound of Mum calling my name and shaking my arm. "Terri? Terri? Terri!" She said, her voice getting louder.

"What?!" I growled.

"You forgot to switch the washing machine loads. The colours have dried onto one another!"

"Not my fault. Washing's your job, not mine."

"I asked you to do this one little thing for me, is it so hard to do?"

"Yes, obviously."

"Go to your room."

"Fuck off!" Mum glared at me before walking out of the lounge and into the kitchen. She tutted and sighed, muttering 'ruined', 'simple as pie' or 'ignorant little cow' every so often.

   "Any messages for me?" Mum asked, taking the remote from the coffee table, falling into the arm chair and putting the TV onto some crappy soap. "Well?"

"NO! There's no sodding messages for you! Okay?" I replied, pulling a Real People magazine from the magazine rack and flicking to a page with a story about a girl who was bullied into running away at the age of thirteen and then finally met up with her family after sixteen years. I continued reading as mum went on about how 'hard' her day was. God, all that comes out of her mouth is: me, me, me, I, I, I, self, self, self. Seriously, does she think about anyone else but herself?, I thought. I dropped the magazine onto my chest, slowly, and pretended to fall asleep. She stopped speaking and I lay there. Bored.

   "Hun," Mum shook my shoulder. "I'm gonna' order in, what do you want? Pizza? Chinese? Indian?" pretending to stir slightly, I rubbed my eyes.

I looked at her and said "Umm, don't mind. Whatever you want."

"So, how 'bout chicken curry, rice and poppadoms? We can get some of the WKDs out of the cupboard, how's that?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, ta." I gave her a thumbs up and headed into the bathroom.

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