One Confuzzled Child
14 years later…
All right, so this is my first go at a diary.
My family is a small and proud family built on traditions with forward thinking, well, that’s what my father says. We live in a small semi-detached house down Oxford Lane and own over 20 acres of pure, green, luscious fields. According to my father, Mr Harclay (the man of the house) the home must always be clean and tidy. That meant no magazines left on tables, or floors littered with board game pieces and ‘such rubbish’. On the other hand, my mother, Mrs Harclay believed the place was a playground, meant for muckiness and the occasional occurrence of paintball guns. Basically, the place was spick-and-span while my father was in and a filthy hell hole while the lady was home alone. They seemed to be complete opposites yet both stayed together, why? Me, of course, their daughter Demi.
My father is a first rate lawyer at Legna's London firm and helps those ill-accused get back to their normal lives, at least that’s what he’s told me. He is a rather stern and pernickety man as of late with a strider's saunter and an out of fashion top hat to match. Some would say a little old fashioned and I agree with them, I mean, sometimes it can get really quite ridiculous, fish fingers will never be the same... Sorry! Zoned out a little there, anyway, as for my father’s looks I would have to say a tall man with a keen eye. He has a rather thin nose and a balding head, bushy eyebrows with thin lips. My mother on the other hand has big, bouncy hair of the brightest ginger and a short cute nose. Her eyebrows plucked neatly and her lips thick and red, good for blowing kisses to her gal-pals (aka the other Women in Vainglory). My mother works with my father and even though she is quite little and has such a bubbly personality I hear that she is a force to be reckoned with in the agency however I have never seen either of them at work instead I am home schooled every day by our maid Rosita. One of these days, I hope to see them in action. Well, to be honest, I just like to see them in the same room nowadays. Luckily, today was one of those days and we played loads of games that my father called ‘challenges’, I think I did well…
However! I am fourteen years old and for all my life have been a confuzzled child, caught in the middle of the arguments between my parents. They would often shout at one another over ridiculous matters such as ‘what would you do if daemons were to break into a treasury vault?’ The worst part being that they would be so worked up over one another’s responses as if they were genuinely in danger. I would be asked every now and again for my input but it was dangerous to answer as whomever I didn’t side with would instantly disown me for a day. The most ridiculous time was when my father was watching the discovery channel with me and then out of the blue my mother walks in and just says 'well? Forget it' and then my father sighed and within a few minutes the volume was ramped up to ten. Sometimes I wonder to myself about how quiet and peaceful it would be if my parents both got killed by a rogue, giant boxing glove and left me to live on my own. Was that a strange thing to say? Probably, I’m crossing it out anyways.
Then again, that is an appealing thought and I know a great-- I mean, it'd be hard to construct so I couldn't do it. Oh no, bummer. I feel a little bit evil now so... yeahhh.
Demi jumped off her desk chair and pulled open some ugly, patterned curtains which draped over her bed posts to reveal a pleasant night sky and then after quickly making sure that no one was watching her through the keyhole, she closed her door and dimmed the lights just low enough for no one to notice that she was still awake at 1 O’clock in the morning. She walked back to her seat and put her delicate, young hands back on her brand-new-today laptop and then continued with her diary.
My spine tingled with excitement, never having stayed up this late before. I scanned the room looking for inspiration then planned different cool ways in which to exterminate my old folks aka ‘The Olderlings’. I call them this because they are both over forty and therefore old, in comparison.
Ooh I know, how about a giant ball of hot coal chasing them down the big hill, over the heath? Then again, they would easily be able to dodge that. Hmm, maybe a dark sludge substance that uses its slime to trap them and tickle my parents so hard that they cry a river, or something along those lines. Both interesting and slightly witty suggestions if I do say so myself. Maybe?
As she giggled softly to herself, Demi saw a shadow out the corner of her eye. Dead silence. She stayed as still as she could be, her jaw tightened and her muscles tensed with anxiety. She seemed to be blinking remarkably loudly all of a sudden and sweating as if she was in a sauna that had overheated, twice! Demi knew that if she was to be caught she would be screamed at, big time! There was a pause of what seemed to be 3 and a half hours in her mind yet only seconds in reality - she prayed hard, then all of a sudden…
Bang!
Demi knew that sound. The ladder that she kept propped up outside her door must have fallen onto the anonymous figure. This gave her a chance. She quickly packed up her laptop and got her lovely cerise gown on, then stepped outside her door. There lay her father, twisted and crumpled in a heap on the floor with the large steel ladder lying triumphantly on top of him.
‘Dad! Are you ok?’ Demi asked pretending she had just woken up with a fake yawn and then a wink to an imaginary camera as if she was on some kind of bad reality show.
‘Yes I’m fine, help me up’ said the young girl’s dad, mumbling naughty curses and grunting belligerently at the inanimate object.
Demi secretly smiled successfully and helped her father back to his room while he moaned about how the ladder should not have even been left there in the first place and how in the olden days the ladders were much better quality. ‘Stern wooden masterpieces’ he exclaimed. ‘Never once fell on me, never ever, ever. Fine craftsmanship they were not like these stupid things.’ Once Demi had helped her father into his bed she scurried quietly back to her room and switched her laptop back on. As it started to load up Demi closed her eyes and reflected on what had just happened.
Ahh, I was nearly caught then. The Olderlings seem to be onto my ‘oh so clever and witty’ ideas. So I must not continue with these death traps until completely necessary, like, really bored or something like that. For now though, strategic methods to steer the enemy off course like a few dummy Demis.
Another remarkable idea from the world’s most amazing girl
− Demi.
So… Sexy, that’s my new name for you, just go with it…. I guess I should start by telling you what happened today. Well I can tell you that that Hannah has something coming to her and her Woolarian Mink Jumper straight from Poncy McPonce town...
Wait a sec, the glare from the screen; it seems to be shining right under the door… I could be caught by mother still, I must inspect! I think it’s time for the STI check! Super Teen Inspector! Muh ha ha ha !
Demi jumped off the chair and looked through the keyhole with a smile on her face, but strangely it shortly faded as she didn’t see her hallway; all she could see was a big, round eye looking right back at her.
My Luck.
‘Hello Demi.’
Demi jumped eight feet back into her bed but knew it was useless.
Mrs Harclay strolled through the door and looked at her daughter who was now pretending to be asleep using her new fake snoring routine which consisted of tossing and turning like a tortoise stuck on its back and repeating ‘I am so asleep snuggle-snuggle so definitely asleep snuggle-snuggle’.
‘DEMI!’ Her mother had lost all of her patience now and was screeching like a velociraptor on cola.
And no, no, no, this cola isn’t even diet
Demi sat up and gave her mother a hopeful smile. As their eyes met, Demi’s heart sank and her mother’s temperature rose to a whopping 5000 degrees that would be used to burn a hole in Demi’s happiness.
Whoops!
‘Demi Ugeway Harclay. This is the last straw, you are going to go to boarding school or ‘The base camp’ or child borstal, and you will be out of this house by tomorrow.’ Mrs Harclay seemed furious but Demi couldn’t understand why her mother was being so uptight. It seemed that her mother just wasn’t as easy going as Demi had always thought.
Demi opened her mouth to ask why her mother was acting so weirdly when her father awkwardly stormed in holding his leg as steam was shooting out of his nostrils like a bull about to charge.
Oh no!
‘I knew it, I knew it. You were always too polite and quiet.’ Mr Harclay’s face was bright red and his left eye twitched uncontrollably.
‘I’m sorry mum. I’m sorry dad.’ Demi, felt terrible but like in every situation where it seems like it can’t get any worse, Demi couldn’t control her mouth and said ‘but what's the big deal?’
Demi's father suddenly started literally shaking with fury and clenched his fists. ‘Big...Big deal?’
Father was staring at me with an animalistic look upon his scrunched-up face that either meant that he was one of three things:
1. Unseemingly angry
2. Lifting some averaged sized dumbells over his head, seriously it’s embarrassing
3. Constipated
So, as he is the only dumbell in my room and I don't even want to think of option 3 I’m going for option 1 'unseemingly angry'.
‘You know the rule. Disobey us and you will leave this domicile until you become a sensible young lady’ explained her mother, believing that this would make Demi think about how completely nuts that theory was.
‘Please!’ Demi didn’t want to leave her house, her room was her sanctuary. What in the world was going on? Wasn’t she the one that kept the family together? What would her parents do once she was gone?
‘I’m gonna get you a place in one of the sternest military camps I can find. One of the sternest! You will learn how to be a proper young lady one way or another’ Demi’s father said as he quickly left the room, her mother then walked after him and slammed the bedroom door shut.
Sternest? Military! What is wrong with my parents? They must be mental. This is so not fantabulous, what am I going to do?
Demi stood completely still; she seemed to be paralysed in the harsh words of her parents. It was unbelievable. After an hour, she realized her legs were aching too much to stand immobile for much longer so sat down and started packing up her essentials. She inserted her laptop into its case and filled her rucksack with a toothbrush, flannel and towel, as well as a lot of clothing.
Unbelievable.
As Demi placed her last T-shirt in the rucksack she realised how unfair her parents were and knew that when she had kids they would be treated a million times better than she was being treated right now. Demi felt a sudden rage rushing through her body and she cradled her head in her hands. Suddenly, shivers ran down her spine and she felt a small burning sensation in the centre of her back.
Hell no!
Demi clenched her fist and ground her teeth together. All of a sudden, her mind went blank and adrenaline pumped through her blood at an alarming and epic rate, as the energy rushed through her so quickly she couldn’t take the glorious pressure and punched the wall with a hefty force that shock-waved through the fortification and formed what seemed to be a small crater. Before the young girl realised what she was doing she found her fist was halfway through the crumbling concrete surface. Demi stumbled backwards. Nerve struck. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped to the floor in which a small pile of sand and rubble had now formed as she tried to find some logic for the reason her punch had done so much damage.
Something new for the CV I think…
Demi looked at her fist which was now producing a trickle of thick red blood from her knuckles that slid down to her elbow. Demi could not understand the matter at hand, she saw the blood running down her arm but felt near to no pain whatsoever, it was a strange sensation and Demi didn’t like it. Quickly she ran to her medical draw and took out some bandage tape which she wrapped around her wounded flesh to try and stop the bleeding and prevent it from becoming infected.
Safety first and all that jazz
Demi took deep breaths and just stared at her hand which was now bleeding through the 12 layers of bandage. ‘Demi!’ shouted her mother from down the hall obviously hearing the cracking of the wall. Still a bit dazed the young girl ran over to her light switch and dimmed the brightness down low yet still bright enough for her to see the red, shiny substance dripping out of the gauze. As she walked over to her bed ready to end the day sleep she walked past her mirror in which for a second or two Demi thought she saw someone else in her reflection. Someone with grey eyes and huge white wings. However, when she glanced back it was just herself. What the hell was going on?
Demi took a deep breath and jumped into her soft warm bed, flopping her head back onto the fat, feathery pillow knowing that the next day would bring a whole new world of events and hopefully a lot less odd ones. But before closing her eyes she turned her head and looked out the bedroom window as rain started to shoot down into the ground with hail shortly following. ‘Great’. Demi got out of bed and closed the curtains.
A Whole New World
It was a cold, cold day and a bitter chill hung in the mist over the small town. The gardens were cool and a little damp from the night dew, full of premature daylight, yet sky still overhead bled no vagrant colours just a thin grey substance of still solemnness. The air was thin and depressing on the frosty morn of Demi’s departure and as her alarm clock rang aloud, she opened her eyes to see her suitcase by her bedroom door fully packed with all her essentials. The young girl sat up eyes half closed and a slight bit of drool hung from her lower lip. Stumbling for a second, she quickly slapped the top of her clock shutting off the loud ringing noise allowing her ears to relax once more. She lay back down sinking into her bed getting ready to drift off once more into her dreams. Closing of the eyes, she breathed slowly through her nostrils wallowing in the peace of the early day. For a second or two it seemed as if the whole world was in perfect harmony.
‘Demi! It is time to go now.’
Demi grunted and sat up angry and frustrated. Why on earth was this happening anyway? Demi thought to herself as she started to undress out of her pink silk pyjamas. It all seemed crazy to her, having to leave home for such a stupid reason. She was still young and it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle whatever was to come it was just that this was her life, and always should be. Demi continued to talk to herself saying how crazy her parents were and how if she had more time the both of them would be walking on hot lava with nothing between them and their fate but those silly little slippers you get from hotels.
Demi stared into her mirror for a few seconds trying to manufacture a look that said ‘hell no’ and ‘I’m so, so sorry’ at the same time. It was a hard look to pull off…
As the miserable girl descended down her staircase she pulled an angry expression upon her face then turned into her kitchen where her mother and father stood buttering some bread and filling up a water bottle which by the look of things would be used on the long trip down to the campsite. ‘So are you ready to go then Demi’ her mother said, weirdly smiling at her daughter ‘I hope that you’re fully packed’. Demi hated the child-like tone she was using.
I’m 14! If I can ride an electronically assisted pedal bike then surely I can decide how I live my life?
Demi ignored her mother and walked over to a cupboard in which she pulled out a box of bran flake cereal pouring it into a fancy bowl then topping it off with a slither of milk. Demi sighed as she remembered the old days when she had people working for her, to cook her meals and clean her room. However, for the last few days her mother had decided that Rosalina was unnecessary and so now Demi had to do everything herself.
It is such an effort
After completing her breakfast meal with a cherry on top of the otherwise gloomy cereal, Demi waked her meal over to the huge wooden table. The table was a beautiful dark oak colour with a varnish finish making it shine in the daylight. It was a rather humungous piece lying at 12 feet in length which made conversation a bit of a task. Not many conversations ever did take place.
I’ll toast to that misery, I guess not talking is something we did all together as a family…
It didn’t take Demi long to finish and after drinking the last bit of milk that lie in her bowl, Demi noticed something about her hand. The gauze that she had wrapped around her hand the night before was gone and she had no wound upon her hand. Was it all in her imagination? Did she not really punch through the wall? Well it would make sense but for some reason it felt so real. Demi rushed back up her stairs and ran into her room. There was no mark on the wall instead it looked even cleaner and perfect than the rest of the walls. Demi whined wishing that it did happen now. It would have been so cool to have been that strong and amazing. To have that power at her fingertips she would be able to get whatever she wanted and tell her parents what’s what.
But no… Depressed
As Demi went to leave her room her closed curtains caught her attention and she stopped for a second before drawing them and then leaving for what was probably the last time in a long while.