Break the Child: Chapter Nine: Melting
By Sooz006
- 1739 reads
Chapter Nine: Melting
Mum went to see Doctor Watkins tonight; we’re all worried about her. She hasn’t even been for her scan to date the baby, yet. She was supposed to go last week, but she forgot about the appointment and they had to make her a new one. The soonest they can fit her in is the end of next week, now, because she has to see her consultant at the same time and that’s when he has a clinic. I thought, it was just a baby appointment, what is it they call it, routine? I missed a lot of stuff that went on because I got sent to my room, but I saw and heard enough to know that something’s not right, it’s extremely not right. I hope this baby hasn’t made my mum poorly. I’ve been in and out of my room like a jack-in-the-box. Katie, go to your room. Katie, go to your room. I can’t wait to have a kid to boss around. Dad and Aunty Linda are always on the phone to each other—I know it’s not an affair now, it’s something to do with mum, but they want to be careful,’ cause if mum hears them again—she’ll flip again, and that’ll be horrible again. And they’ve got wise to me sitting on the stairs to listen.
“Katherine Bell, you get off those stairs, right this second and get to your room. And shut the door behind you.” I know I’m being plodentic, but does he expect me to get up right this second or get to my room right this second `cause it takes longer than a second to get to my room. And, I’m not going to shut the door in front of me, am I?
Mum’s been odd since she found out about the baby. Today her weirdness went into overdrive and she went proper loopy. She seems completely fine now totally, completely. That’s what I don’t understand, she doesn’t forget things all the time, just now and again. It’s made me not sure if I want to be pregnant, I think my husband and I will just adopt.
I was still in a mood with her over yesterday. I got up and wrote, felt tip pens, vanilla essence and ready-to-roll pastry on the white board so that Mum would see it before she went to work. That way, she brings what we need home with her. I got back and she’d left me a sandwich in cling film with a banana, because she had made a doctor’s appointment and we wouldn’t be having dinner until she got home. I couldn’t believe it; next to my snack were a pack of felt tip pens, a bottle of vanilla essence and a packet of ready to roll pasty. She’d forgotten all about our code words for private girl things, and we’d spent ages making them up. She said I must have been dreaming and that having code words for the shopping is just silly.
And then I went to the bathroom and when I came down, she’d eaten my snack, proper sneaky, like. What kind of a mother does that? And then she denied it. There were sandwich crumbs all over the table and everything. I’m not allowed to be a messy eater—but she is. And, she’s put the banana skin back in the fruit bowl—my banana skin, and if I’d done that, she’d have gone ballistic, it’s not fair. Grownups are hypocrites.
I feel sorry for my mum because she got sacked today. I feel a bit ashamed, too, in case everybody knows. I was sitting on the stairs being really quiet and although I couldn’t hear everything really well, I got the gist of what happened. I hope none of the kids from school were in the Co-op at the time. It’ll be all over school and I don’t want people saying my mum’s bat-poo-crazy again, that’s what Ryan said about her the other day. Aunty Helen brought Mum home because she was in a state, and when dad got in, they rang Aunty Linda and all four of them sat around the table talking about it. See, I made it worse for Mum because I told them what happened this morning with the vacuum cleaner. I thought it was dead funny, and it was— but it wasn’t too, and I was laughing, and Mum was laughing, but really, inside, it scared me. I wanted them all to laugh. I wanted them to show me that it was funny after all.
They didn’t laugh.
I got up this morning and Mum was already up. She wasn’t sick today and said that she felt fine. She said that it was a good day so far. I went into the lounge and she was in there with the vacuum in her hand. She was pushing it backwards and forwards across the carpet and humming to herself as she did it.
But it wasn’t plugged in. The cable was still wound around the hooks on the back of it and the plug was just dangling there. We made a big joke of it, and Mum said she wanted to see how long it would take me to realise. But while she was doing it, it was like she was a robot, like in an Isaac Asimov novel. And I know how I know, for sure, that it wasn’t really funny because I didn’t tell Sal. I didn’t tell anybody at school and normally when your folks do something goofy you always tell at school. I wanted to go and find Miss Chew at break time and tell her, but she was in the staff room drinking tea. I told them about it when I got home, but Mum had forgotten, she said that I was making it up. They all looked worried about it. But they already knew about the ice lollies, you see, so they would be worried. If it wasn’t for the lollies, I bet they’d have said I was telling lies.
Today, at Mum’s work, they had a big freezer delivery. The shop was quiet, so while Aunty Helen and Dorothy, that’s the boss, manned the tills, Mum went to put the order away. They had emptied a unit at the back of the shop to make an Easter display; the Easter eggs and stuff were due in tomorrow. For some reason, Mum put all of the frozen stuff on the shelves where the Easter stuff was meant to go—like, duh!
Nobody noticed it when they went for their morning breaks and it was only when a customer slipped in the melted goo on the floor that she looked at the shelf and saw all the ice creams and lollies there. Mum was crying when she came in from the doctors. She denied the hoover thing and she said it wasn’t her who had ruined all the frozen stuff. My mum never tells lies, but she did—she told a great big lie because Aunty Hellen knew it was mum, on account of it was her that put the stuff out. But Mum didn’t get grounded for lying.
Helen and Linda made her go to the doctor’s and normally you have to wait until you’re better to get an appointment when you’re ill. She already has an appointment for Friday, but they said, no, she had to go today. My Mum’s not ill though, is she? She’s just pregnant. I told her that she’s got to start concentrating on things. In a way it’s a good thing that she’s not working anymore. She can get ready for the baby coming. I suggested Tabatha, today but Dad says it sounds like the name of a cat.
The doctor took some of Mum’s blood and did some tests. They are waiting for the results.
I think my Mum’s so excited about the new baby. She’s probably thinking about names all day and forgets little stuff, like deodorant and plugs and ice lollies.
Cheryl Cole was on telly, last week. Everybody was talking about it at school on Monday. She looked dead good, but the papers said that she was miming again. That’s not what we were all talking about though. She was doing this dance where she kept grabbing her privates. It was disgusting…Common! I really liked her, too. I think she looked like a real slut doing that. It’s like, when you were watching it, you couldn’t help looking at her privates because that’s where her hand was. She wanted boys to look at her crotch. I really like her, but I didn’t like that.
Then at break time we were all in the playground. Sharon Grainger and Sammi Henson were dancing and messing about. They wanted all the lads to look at them. The lads always do anyways, because they’re the prettiest girls in the class. Even some of the lads in the fourth year fancy them. Then Sammi was still dancing and she grabbed herself, there, through her school skirt and everything. I was shocked. She didn’t look sexy; it just looked like she had an itch. I’m glad that Jason dumped her. That was so uncool.
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Comments
This gets it exactly right -
This gets it exactly right - the deep down anxiety mixing with the day to day events at school. I am so worried for our heroine and her mother! And so desperately want them to be all right.
Really, really good writing.
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Pick of the Day
A brilliant example of how to create character, build tension, and make your heart ache. This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day! Please do share/retweet if you enjoy it too.
Picture: Pixabay Creative Commons
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"Plodantic" is a great word
"Plodantic" is a great word :0) It seems very real, the mixture of things being unfair wrong, and things being scary wrong. And the narrator staying true to herself and what she feels is right, even to the last bit in the school playground. I cared
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some people are bat crazy. I
some people are bat crazy. I know a few. keep it rolling.
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There's can be such a
There's can be such a terrifying feeling about being a teenager. You describe those scenes so perfectly. Added to that a mother who is going through trauma herself and denying it, makes the poor girl's life even more punishing.
Glad I'm able to catch up.
Jenny.
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