Short Stories

Life Gets Better

I wrote this story in year seven in English, as one of the set pieces to write and I've just found it. I'm quite astounded as to how bad my writing actually was...

Enjoy my terrible writing~

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“SHIP!” I jerked up abruptly. I have been having these scary dreams for weeks, they make no sense at all, but in all of them I’m going to be killed, somewhere, somehow. After Mum was taken away for doing drugs illegally and abusing me, I became sick of this, Dad being a gazillionare and not caring at all, mum being so selfish and worst of all Emma disappeared.

Emma has been my best friend for years, we did everything together, we lived together for a short time. We told each other everything, and I mean everything. After I left school she stopped coming to my house, stopped calling me and she stopped e-mailing me. Maybe her parents don’t want her to hang around with me coz’ I’m a year 7 dropout. To be honest I kind of miss Mum and Emma. I don’t see why I miss Mum, I mean she loved me and all, but that didn’t stop her from abusing the life out of me.

As a fishing line reeled into the water I placed my jacket down on the end of the pier and sat on it. I loved coming here it was where I could relax and could think of all the bad things and washed down. Thinking of all the bad things in life just made the good ones shine more, when I was at home I would try and stay positive, it was the best way to not kill your self. I love to jump in the water and wash myself; I can’t afford to pay water bills on top of groceries with just the $1,000 Dad sends for child support. I don’t think it’s enough seeing as it hardly supports me. I finished washing off and started to head back.

I placed a can of baked beans in a bowl shoved it in the microwave and put it on for two minutes. I hated having this type of meals but even when Mum was around she didn’t cook. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore I just hang round at home, eat as little as I can and try re-decorating the house. I don’t know why I re-decorate the house so much it’s not like I want to be an interior designer in fact, I want to be a model, so all the lifting and hunching isn’t helping my posture at all. After I was diagnosed with anorexia, it seemed modelling was just a stupid idea designers don’t want a skeleton posing with there best products.

I walked to the grocery store to look for something appetizing, everything looked glum and off. Food seems to repulse me now, even though I once loved it. I wished I had a parental figure, you know to like feed me proper meals and have someone to look up to and admire when I’m feeling down, Looks like that’s another dream stored away. I reluctantly picked up the best looking carrot and took it to the counter, something nutritious for when I need it.

There was a loud knock at the door; I rushed to the peep hole to see if it was Emma, as I looked through the strange man called out “Is anyone here? It’s the police,” he sounded quite nice, not harmful at all, I politely opened the door with slight caution. “Hello, is there anyone with you?” They sounded as if they were talking to a two year old. “Nope, not since mum left …” I said trying to sound older and more mature, it didn’t really work. After I said that they didn’t seem too happy they barged in from the small gap between me and the wall, they left one police woman. They mess the whole house up it’s now even messier. I turn around and scream “Oi, Stop you’re messing my house up!” I was cranky, but they looked surprised. The woman started talking but I wasn’t in the mood, “Darling, it’s ok we are the police and we need to see why you have been …” “I have been left alone here because my mum was  stupid and she should have been put on a death sentence, but know she’s in jail and I take care of myself, is that a good enough explanation?” I ask with a stern expression on my face. She looks shocked, but I didn’t give, the men look worried they grab my skinny arms and force me out the door and into the car. I knew what was coming next, I watch crime shows and I’m not stupid.

The stupid cops sat me down and started babbling on about government and family, I couldn’t care less. As I dosed off I heard “We will have to place you in foster care seeing as there is no legal guardian,” I freaked, I never thought it would get to this stage. “What, I’m 13 years old I can take care of myself and anyways why can’t my dad take care of me!” It went silent the cops gave me some strange looks. “Your father, who is he? Do you know his name?” I thought it was a joke. “Henry Acer,” I said triumphantly. They started mumbling, I continued speaking “You know he didn’t just leave me and mum he had a business trip, it got complicated and then mum started dealing and all and he couldn’t take the stress from her, he never came back…” The tears started bubbling up but know wasn’t the time for water works. “And … and … he still cares for me! He does, he loves me!” I got frustrated.

The computer was beeping with a match of Henry Acer, I knew it would. There where so many so they used some of my hair as DNA and found three matches, Henry Acer, Shellie Acer and Emma Acer, my best friend. “Emma,” I screeched with excitement. “What?” The police officers looked at me strongly. “She’s my best friend she went missing a couple of weeks ago and I didn’t know we were related she had her own parent, she was one year older than me,”

TWO YEARS ON …

I love my new life, mums still in jail; dad, Emma and I live together in a huge mansion. I am no longer at a dangerous state of anorexia and I look great. I’m modelling for the biggest companies and I’m only 15! I’m now living life to the fullest. It’s great; I’d never take anything back.

I have achieved so much since I was 13!