The Sprout

Short Story: The Mirror - Part One

Postiwyd gan Faymondo:) o Caerdydd - Cyhoeddwyd ar 22/07/2010 am 15:00
4 sylwadau » - Tagiwyd fel Ysgrifennu Creadigol

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This short story has been entered in theSprout Short Story Competition.

You see, I’ve always been the odd one out. Reading books instead of going to the latest party or park, wanting good grades instead of wanting boys. Seriously, there’s a list of my oddities. So, as you can tell I wasn’t really surprised when I would be named an even bigger odd-ball for moving to the other side of the country, in the middle of a term.

I could see the plane’s shadow on the deep, blue sea. We’d been flying for ten hours; it took eighteen to get to Australia. My eyelids drooped down over my eyes; sleep was calling to me. I was never the one to chill out on planes. For one, my legs always jutted out into the aisle as I was so tall, and that horrible noise that vibrates from the plane’s engine all the way through your seat, was infuriatingly annoying and prevented me from sleeping or even just relaxing. I tried twisting this way and that, trying not to disturb the lady next to me. I looked round in exasperation. Was nobody else feeling so uncomfortable? Obviously not, as it seemed I was the only one not asleep.

I looked across to my Mum and Dad. Yep, he was still in a mood with me. I could remember the long hours of arguing about moving, due to his new job. His arms were folded showing he was in a mood with me. Mum was asleep, her headphones in, most probably listening to her favourite classical singer: Renee’ Flemming. She too also got bored with being on flights, but it looked like she was okay. I fidgeted around uncomfortably until I could feel someone’s eyes on me. I turned around, and my Dad was trying to get my attention.

“Okay?” he mouthed. I nodded while trying to smile. He shook his head, while sighing and turned back round. I moaned heavily; this was going to be a long journey.

Finally we were off that stuffy, cramped plane. I’d gotten slightly bored just sitting there, staring into space, trying to ignore the lady in the seat beside me. She’d taken up the whole of her seat and nearly the whole of mine, and she had snored like a trooper the whole time, and once had even grabbed my arm while sleep-talking. But I guess she was okay, after all she’d given me a sweet to suck on, once she’d seen me covering my ears at landing. She said it stopped your ears popping and you feeling sick.

I’d never liked planes, especially the landing. That feeling of nothingness as you fall downwards to meet the earth’s crust. My ears popped every time and I nearly always feel my stomach churning as we hit the runway and then to feel the plane juddering to a stop.

As soon as we’d grabbed all our stuff from the airport, we walked to the bus stations from the airport to take us to our new home. The bungalow was in Hilton, a place in western-Australia.

But even though we were moving to a hot, new place, I couldn’t help but feel sadness gnawing at my heart. It was because of my books. I know most teenagers wouldn’t be able to live without their phone, laptop or iPod, but to me I can’t survive a day without reading, with the words flowing into each other creating a spell-bound story which holds you captivated, stories about love, conflict and other parts of life… Sorry, got a bit carried away there.

My bedroom back home is like a library. My friends think I’m slightly obsessed, but they understand my strange quirks about me. Mum protested that I start fresh, forget about those books for a while, we could always get new ones. What she didn’t understand was that each of my one-hundred books held a memory and a secret. But, she wanted to see more of me, ‘If you’re not at school, you’ve got your head stuck in a book, or at least you’re holding one’ which is commonly said by her.

IMAGE: camil tulcan