Dark Night of the Soul

Chapter 2

13 years later...

August. Tuesday.

Before any action is taken, we must explain the policy, which we have formulated in the light of the given circumstances, to Party members and to the masses.

Andrew, a contented 15-year-old, sits eating fish fingers and chips at the kitchen table. His younger brother, Bob, is desperately trying to attract his attention by balancing his fork on his top lip. 'So boring' thinks Andrew. 'He really needs to come up with some new tricks.' He gazes past his Mum cleaning the pans at the kitchen window. Fat stormy raindrops impinge on the glass and on every other window in the suburban housing estate.

Meanwhile, Kristen lounges cosily in her family's Camper van overlooking the downy Mendip Hills. 'Pleuvisaud' she muses to herself as the rain tip-taps comfortingly on the tin roof. Today, the day after her 13th birthday, was a good day, she thinks. One step closer to leaving her family behind.

When she was little, living in a Camper van had seemed such fun. Staying up to watch the sun set, her parents' friends playing guitar, laughing and singing. But now she needed to breathe. The claustrophobia was killing her.

She wipes the condensation from the window and peers out, cupping her hands to her face. She can just about see Bob and Andrew's house down in the valley. 'Bet they're not eating lentil stew,' she thinks to herself.