Secrets and Lies

Casey is a teenager with an amazing will to succeed. She is an incredible runner and is determined to enter a marathon. However it is not that easy. Her world is upturned as her friend's life begins to break down and only Casey can help, Casey is madly in love with a man she thinks will never want her and a sad turn of events results in a huge blow. But Casey is still determined to follow her dream...

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13. 22nd June 2013

 

 Little Mix sang ‘DNA’, and as they finish their song the whole arena erupted with deafening screams and cheering, banners with luminous paint on cry out for attention among the crowd. I don’t think I had ever seen Amaya so ecstatic, she was screeching like the world was about to end and pouring from her eyes were tears of (hopefully) happiness. Personally I thought she was going a bit extreme; even when I went to see One Direction I didn’t cry, it’s not like the members would want their audience to be blubbering. Plus I couldn’t stand the thought of Niall seeing me with my face crumpled and all disgusting whilst I ugly sobbed my heart out. No.

But most of the fans looked like they weren’t shamed when they made a fool of themselves. But it was sweet to see kids from 9-16 full of glee and singing along with their idols even though most were very out of tune. Including Amaya. Me? Well I wasn’t crying or screaming but I was happy, the atmosphere was like a virus. Nobody could possibly sit down, glum or not enjoying the show. That would be crazy. The beat of their songs was almost like a hypnotising rhythm; once the music started everyone was lost in the world of dancing, singing and clapping. I could see why Little Mix had so many devotees; they were incredible live.

The atmosphere was phenomenal, it tricked you into forgetting everything but the words to the songs they sung (and yes, I knew all the words. I had them drummed into me enough times to say them backwards). But what seemed like a few minutes was actually two hours and before I knew it, the concert was over and Amaya and I were lost in the swarm of people charging out of the echo arena. A real amazing smile was carved onto Amaya’s face and she to radiate joy as she walked. I knew how much going here meant to her, so I went with her thinking it would take my mind off things and it did, for a while.

By the time we found my dad outside it was already half past eleven and the stars were glimmering in the sky but the moon was nowhere to be seen. We went back on the train. I hate trains or tubes; they are so claustrophobic packed with old people, big people, whiny people, screaming children, moaning adults, dangerous drug dealers, people with knifes not so cleverly hidden in their pockets, everyone is a threat, people are sweaty and stinky; their stench chocking, body’s crammed together excruciatingly close warning suffocation. They are everywhere. I hate places with so many people that it’s overwhelming, it’s like that in school corridors where rowdy kids slam you against the wall and push you into people, where you can’t even wait in a line without being asphyxiated and terrified. So many people make me feel like I’m being strangled by legs and drowning again. As I sat on the train, I had to close my eyes and take deep breaths trying to picture a happy place, with people I love. When I do this, the same painting of a scene comes into my mind and it’s always with him. It prevents the hyperventilation. Both my dad and Amaya had any idea about my fear; I didn’t want them to know.

By the time we got back to my house it was midnight, so Amaya had to sleep over like expected. Merrily singing ‘We are who we are’ as she got out her fuchsia sleeping bag, Amaya seemed lost in a trance already back at the concert where Jade had waved at her in the crowd. I suppose that was the happiest moment of her life so far. I wish I could be so easily caught in a spell that made me go back to the One Direction tour, or when I won any of my running competitions or maybe one of the few memories with him. But no that wasn’t possible. I thought after a few weeks the memory I wanted to forget (but always wanted to remember the person in it) would fade a little and side step from the forefront of my mind.

Like the man said before, you will always think about them. And yet, I thought it would be easier than this; I never knew my cousin so, surely that would make it simpler for me to stop mourning. It made it harder. Everywhere I go, everything I do is telling a story of what might have been. I listen to music; Hope could have been an amazing singer. I write, draw, read, cook and design: she could have been incredible at any of those things. And normal things like going to town with Amaya, watching TV or simply eating make me think that Hope will never do that at all. Never.

But this has made me appreciate things more. The funeral was two days ago, and was the most operose and toughest thing I had ever been through besides Hopes death. Never had I had to endure such grief at such an extreme level, it was like walking through hell and back. Every single person was perturbed and silently weeping, never had I been to such a place that screamed death and torture. Prayers and parts of the Bible were read out and hymns were sung with such agony that even the priest seemed to have red eyes. And yet why did we all praise the lord when he did nothing to stop Hope dying, he did nothing to stop her life being wasted and he has done absolutely nothing to help us through the mourning? We sang to God begging for him to look after and cherish Hope in Heaven. But how did we know she was in heaven? With life as unjust as it is, she may have never made it there.

Emma and Barry seemed to think it was their punishment for something that they did wrong earlier in their life. But of course it wasn’t. As they watched their beautiful daughter being buried and even though they cried and broke down, they seemed oddly strong. This had made a bond between them that could never be broken, they would be together until death does them apart and still then will they always be with each other in heaven where Hope should be waiting for them.

“You’re thinking about Hope, aren’t you?” questioned Amaya softly. I had just been sitting on my bed staring out into space. I nodded. “Did the concert not help, a little?” she pondered her voice so hopeful yet childish.                                                                                                                                   

 “It did, for a while.” I said simply. It was clear that she didn’t know what to say, so in silence we got into our sleeping bags and tried for a long to win a battle against sleep.

Plumose pink candyfloss clouds were what I was bouncing on. I was so high in the sky that the moon seemed closer than earth, it was pitch black except from its white powerful light that lunar emitted. Thousands of amber sparkles burned in the darkness and I felt alone. I listened. Yes, I could hear something. And it was getting closer and closer, louder and louder. It wasn’t a happy sound but to me it sounded like something that could only come from Elysium.

A baby crying. Wailing softly was an unseen infant whom is despaired to see. Where was she? The fluffy clouds provided me with a very good trampoline and I began to jump high into the night frantically searching for the sound that I had been dying to hear all my life. I leapt so high that I was in space amongst that stars but no moon. Maybe the moon needed help. Right in front of me suddenly formed was a mountain made out candy. I began to climb it realizing that the sound must be coming from the other side.

I really wanted to see Hope alive. I was about halfway up the mountain when it started violently shaking, rocking me from side to side. Determined I held on. Until the boiling bubbling chocolate started speeding towards me down the slope, threatening to burn me. Arghh! Before I was burnt alive I tried to hurdle down the mountain, but I was stuck. Panicking, I started kicking at the toffee which seemed to engulf me but it got tighter, strangling my wrists and trapping my ankles. I could still hear Hope screaming at me to come and rescue her from what must have been a bowl of freezing chocolate ice cream that had captured her in its slippery paws.

I didn’t know what to do; there was no way out of the sticky situation. My fingers started to blister and my skin began to itch but the chocolate wasn’t on me yet .Fighting against the chains the toffee began to loosen as it reached it boiling point, and suddenly it started raining upwards from the cloud beneath me. The toffee turned slimy and before I knew it, I slipped from its grasp onto the sweet ground below.

With moments to spare, I rolled over just before the wave of hot chocolate melted me and it collapsed splashing and sloshing into the river which had just formed. But the rain didn’t stop. It burst through the ground rocketing into space as fast as a shooting star. Faster and faster, it beat against me and it felt like I was being stabbed with thousands of tiny daggers. Within seconds it began to hurt, really hurt, and I started to cry out in pain sounding like an echo of my cousin. And yet we sounded too much the same. It was identical. My cousin wasn’t crying it was the echo of me which had started way too early before the rain had started. Everything was wrong.

From the now crimson river, creepily came a figure which was rapidly forming into somebody that always haunted my dreams. He came running, made out of pure chocolate. It was so strange and scary, so I started to sprint away from him screaming. It’s not like you would go and embrace a moving lump of chocolate no matter what they looked like.

I was terrified. Out of nowhere more figures began to form from the chocolate. Amaya and all of her family including a very livid looking dad, all my family, a marching herd of angry teachers, the fifteen people that had so cruelly beaten me up and a fuming baby.

It was horrific. They were all charging at me swearing and cursing with knives and guns, darts and shovels, walking sticks and spades and fire. They started burning, blazing bright orange and yellow as their own flames began to melt them until they disappeared into nothing but a frothing puddle of crimson eyes.

Hyperventilating, I curled up on the cardboard floor tears cutting my cheeks. Then came was crouching next to me completely normal, no chocolate in sight. He tried to hush me with his enchanting voice and touch; he cradled me trying to keep me warm with his boiling hot body. I hadn’t noticed but I was freezing like somebody had just buried me alive in snow, so his touch sizzled against my hair. “It’s going to be ok, I promise” he whispered.

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