-Not all of the story is written like this-
Cold, heavy rain poured down from the usual grey clouds that form over Britain. A boy, that looks about thirteen, is walking home slowly. He is holding his hood down, encouraging the raindrops to slip away from his face. Though only young, you can picture how stunning he will be. His hair is wavy and as black as coal. His eyes are coloured like the Caribbean Sea, his dimples make him adorable.
People walk past him, sometimes they smile sympathetically. He smiles back because he is polite. He quite enjoys the rain but he needs to get back to his mother before she gets mad. When she's mad, she damages his fragile body and his, now, dwindling confidence.
As he approaches the house, he senses that something isn't right. He opens the large, blue door and he immediately smells singed hair and hears the flickering of a fire. The orange glow is visible through the cracks in the kitchen door. He sprints out of the hall and calls the fire brigade.
When they came, it was too late. His mother's body was unrecognisable. His house was merely a skeleton.
Oddly, the boy felt nothing. He didn't love his mother, yet he didn't hate her. He never really cared about his house, either.
He just kept dancing amidst the thunder storm - until he was escorted off with police.
Lots of theories danced around court. Some people think somebody murdered his mother - there were no signs implying she was cooking or handling any sort of flame.
Some of those people think it was the boy - nobody else was there.
Only the boy knew the truth.
YOU ARE READING
Delinquent
Teen FictionSkye Aitken is a rich, intelligent, fifteen year old that has a had a bad streak when it comes to behaviour. When her naturally perfect grades are being compromised and her father has become concerned that it may be because of an American boy... ...
