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I’m pretty angry. There’s nothing pretty about it either. There is a blue sky outside.
That sentence just made me angrier.
There is a blue sky, and underneath it is me, staring out my window with the face someone gets on a moving train when it pulls out of the platform of their home town. Goodbye blue sky, I think, and shut the curtains. Don’t come back. don’t peak in through my curtain, dirty sky. It would be better if you where not there. Better if you fell down.
Today is the day of the Most Naughtiest Thing I have ever done. The Most Naughtiest Thing started last Tuesday when Ginger turns to me in the park and suggested it. Stacey backed it up. A week later I logged in on msn and there they all were, arranging these plans. So I agreed. And thought, yes, this is what normal teenagers do. And as long as its normal its alright, right.
Either way I waited eagerly for my mum to go to work the next day before sneaking all the blankets out from under her bed and into my bag. None of them fitted. I settled for two bags. One that came from ASDA that was a “cloth reusable bag” and “saved the planet.” How it saved the plant I was not quite sure, because to my prior knowledge all it had been doing was sitting on a hook in the kitchen, but you never know. We will be thankful one day, I suppose when the plant is saved and we have the reusable bags to thank.
Into these bags I put a pack of safety matches, three vest tops, a hat, gloves, a scarf, wolly socks, uggs, a whole bar of chocolate, the medicine which I have been taking, two bottles of water (because I paid attention in citizenship) and one bottle of WKD. The WKD was snuggled deep into the blanket. For the WKD it must’ve been quite the adventure, as what it was used to seeing was the inside of my cupboard, top shelf, where its wrapped in a scarf. This WKD is The Naughtiest I’ve Been So Far.
When I tried to hoist the bag on my shoulder. It bulged and the WKD slipped out of the blanket like it was just being born, and fell awkwardly towards the floor. I made a lunged attempt to catch it, it knocked viciously against my knee but my hands caught it just before it hit my toes. Nice save. The WKD went back in the cupboard after that. It needed to Think About what it had Done. Just like I was supposed to be doing now.
Now. Dads car pulls up into the drive, his tires making the sound that I imagine a zombie would make. That final groaning breath. Then his car door slams. Bomf. And again. Bomf. The dog barks. Once. Twice. The dog is silenced. Dads feet approach the door. The door shuts. Bang. Dad is home.
But back to this morning. My mum came back from work. I made lunch. I read a bit, until 2 o clock when I was supposed to go to town and commence being naughty. It was quite a long walk to get there, and I was wearing 2 jumpers because I knew I would need them later. Everything felt somewhat alien, like I knew what I was doing but couldn’t believe I was going to do it. I recon I knew. Knew it wouldn’t exactly work out.
When I reached Angel hill I rang Alicia. She would be an hour. An hour. What was I supposed to do for an hour? I could ring Ginger but she would be with her boyfriend. A promising guy, who although is most probably well endowed with the English language to me always seems to be saying “yes, me make fire for tribe.” or some other cliché caveman phrase.
Do you know where I went? A naughty girl like me?
I went to the library.
This is maybe the source of why things never really work out of me when I try to brake the rules. If I was on a therapists chair I would most probably find myself saying “ah yes, it all began that summers day when I was five and mum wanted me to be taken off her hands for a while, and so took me to the library-” Now I’m addicted to books. What can I say? I promised I would stop after just one, but…
When I reached the big stone steps of the library I thought “what the hell are you doing? This I the library, what is someone see’s you? Just go shopping for the rest of the time-” and so I turned to leave when I heard a whirring sound and the huge doors opened in front of me. Majestically. Slowly. I felt like Jesus must’ve felt when that red sea parted for him. Or was it Moses that did that?
Anyway, after that I couldn’t just stand there like it was an accident, so I walked right inside. An hour later I emerged because Alicia was ringing me and people kept giving me funny looks in the library. I got lost for an hour in Antony Burgesses M/F. The atmosphere in there was slow. Clear and calm, like I was drifting in water but could still breathe. I took over a blue chair and let the breeze caress my back.
Alicia told me to meet her outside Superdrug, so I complied. The day felt like it was slowly winding down. Just thinking about what everyone else would be doing now makes my stomach twitch, and my throat fill up. Its a complicated feeling, sort of like when you are on something high and you peer over the edge, and for a few seconds you just tip the slightest bit, eventually grabbing onto something even though there was no possible way that you could fall.
I bought myself a coke. God know what I’ll be drinking later, I thought. 300 bottles of stolen alcohol I thought Ginger said on the phone, but I might have misheard. That stolen alcohol never touched my tongue. Before I walked up to Superdrug I got a text from mum saying “you’d better get home NOW.”
I did get home NOW I waited till the latest I possibly could. (One hour from when the mentioned text was sent.) It all seemed like such a waste. We were having a campout, us in the park all night with 300 bottles of alcohol. Instead of being The Naughtiest I Have Ever Been all I did was read for an hour and buy a soft drink. I don’t know if I’m angry anymore. Its more of a sadness.

Never again will I underestimate the healing powers of tea. A very English thought there, which confirms my suspicion: I appear to be going mad.
As well as the fact that when I realised that there were only three teabags left I was more worried than when I realised my mum knew about the drunken campout; there are more confirming signs of madness:
After a hour of sitting on the floor swinging my head backwards and forwards to Stewie’s voice in Family Guy last night I decided to write a list of all the possible things I could do in my bedroom. My favourite on this list was:
-shave arms and legs. And head. And hair on palms of hands.
I haven’t left my room for a day and a half now. I feel like scratching little notches into my wall, like they do in prison cells. Although it’s a lie of course, I have been out the room when everyone else is out. Mostly this consists of stealing food for my supplies, stealing water for my supplies and running up and down the stairs five times for exercise. (There isn’t room to turn on my floorspace.)
I also have written a letter:

Dear British army.
I would much appreciate t if you would come and rescue me. I reside at the address above on the letter. Not so much reside, more, are held captive. Please bring lots of burly men with big guns. And some tea bags.

Then I laughed at myself, looked at myself in the mirror, and did the nod, and realised I had completely lost it. If this carries up I will begin to froth at the mouth.
Conversation with the other side isn’t looking very good. There are no signs of a treaty being drawn up at all. The party leaders communicated briefly today, in an exchange that went something like, “I’m going out. You are not to leave this house.”
“Get lost then.”

The shower was also the worst part of my day. I was undressing super quick and hopping up and down, because I was literally so scared that mum would come home. She wouldn’t do anything to me. Its just the coldness. The look on her face. I didn’t even see her face yesterday, and when I saw it today I don’t think I saw her face either because she looked at me in a whole different way. it’s the longest I have been without talking to my mum. I guess this is how growing up feels like.
My mum found the itinerary of my French trip down the back of the sofa the other day. It was all crumpled like a much loved teddy bear. She said to me “You wont believe how many times I looked at this to see what you were doing.” I thought about that just as I got into the shower, and the icy water sliced right down my back because I forgot to turn the heating on. I thought: where the hell is that mother now?

Then it happened.
( continued in part 2..)