The Sprout

The Mirror - Part Two

Posted by Faymondo:) from Cardiff - Published on 10/08/2010 at 11:33
2 comments » - Tagged as Creative Writing

Tweet

“Right Carmel, we’re nearly there. Get yourself ready. You want to go and see your new bedroom don’t you?” my Dad questioned me. I just shrugged at his question. I wasn’t interested in my room. I only had a couple of things to put in it; anyway it wasn’t as if we were going to stay there long.

As I was brooding over what I was going to do, something outside caught my eye. It was a little cottage, with flowers growing all down the sides and around the front door. Warm, sun rays sparkled on the cottage surface, like a million diamonds. It looked as if it had just come out of a fairytale book.

“It’s a shame we’re not going to be living there…” I started, before my Mum and Dad turned round and smiled at me. Suddenly the coach was slowly stopping outside the gates of the bungalow that I was describing…

“I’m glad you like it," my Mum gleamed at me "see Mike, I told you she’d love it once she saw it.”

I was gob smacked. I couldn’t believe this was where we were going to stay. Two years wasn’t long enough to take in this wonderful place. It was only when we got off the coach and thanked the bus driver, did we get a closer look, and all my dreams of a fairytale place disappeared.

“We’ll have to do a bit of work on it, but we’ll soon have it up and running,” Dad said to me. As we went inside I saw that the bungalow needed a lot more than a bit of work. All the wallpaper was hanging of the walls, some of the floor was missing. The windows were either cracked or non-existent and there were no doors in any of the rooms. The furniture was ripped and had cigarette butts all over them. My mouth just gawped at it all in non-belief. So it was true, never judge a book by its cover. Yes, the front of the cottage was beautiful but inside, well it was a total disaster. How are we going to live in a place like this, I have no idea. I turned to my parents. They seemed as shocked as I did.

“It didn’t look this bad when they sent us photos of it, did it?” Mum whispered.

“Well, don’t worry about it Jane. Maybe there was a storm or a group of hooligans. We’ll all get it sorted out in no time at all,” Dad replied. I couldn’t believe this. By the time the whole cottage would be sorted, a whole year would have gone.

“Why thank you Mum, Dad, for bringing me to such a wonderful, enchanting place, where I can sit by the fire, practise yoga on the carpet and cook wonderful food in the kitchen,” I sarcastically said to them. I then turned around and headed to the slightly small and broken stairs.

“Look love we know your angry, but so are we. I’m going to phone the estate agents right away and tell them about this...”

“Right Mum," I looked at them both and sighed "okay, just please do what you want. I suppose I’m just disappointed in what the turn out of this is.” I sighed at them both. I then went to the stairs again and started to go up, before one of the steps gave way and my foot fell through. I yanked my foot out and huffed. “Great, even the stairs are broken.” I know that I was being really mean and moody, but I couldn’t help it. I mean, they bring me out to a place that I don’t even want to be, and then I find that our ‘home’ is in ruins, and I mean I am sixteen; am I not allowed not be moody once in a while?

The Mirror - Part Three

News » Categories » Creative Writing