Movellas King and Queen Entries

This is a movella holding all of my entries for the Movellas King and Queen competition that Kelly G is hosting on her page. :)
You can read them if you like - enjoy! :)

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1. Realism Entry

I don’t like it (I don't like you)

When I was younger, my life couldn’t be any more perfect. I had parents that never argued, a brother who was always there for me, and a best friend who swore we would be best friends forever. But then everything changed. Just like that.

                                                                          ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s the day of Michael’s 18th Birthday today, and instead of throwing a massive celebratory party, he’s sitting alone in his bedroom, counting down the days till he leaves for University. To be honest, my parents did agree that he could have his friends round if he wanted, but he backed out of that idea quickly.

You see, my brother Michael has never been the popular type. He’s the sort of person who would rather sit at home doing homework than go to the skate park and hang out with a load of other guys.

“Why don’t you want anyone round?” My Mum had asked a week ago, concerned at why Michael wants to be hidden away so much recently.

“I don’t have anyone to invite.” He whispered, so quiet that only I could hear his reply. And even then he still ran off to his room.

Mum and Dad had bugged me a lot the next few days, desperately wanting to know the reason behind Michael’s decision. I’d promised him myself I wouldn’t say anything.

‘If you say anything, even just the slightest bit, there will be serious trouble.’

Those words still haunt my brain today, because when Michael was out one day, visiting a museum in London, I told them. I told my parents what he said. Why? I don’t know. I was sick of them persuading me and annoying me when I was trying to do other things.

So I didn’t keep my promise to him. Not at all. And now I know I have to face the consequences, whatever they might be…

                                                                    ~ ~ ~ ~

“C’mon, you cut the cake dear,” My Grandfather insists, sliding the cake made especially for Michael by my Mum, to me. “He’s not going to come down so you might as well.”

My parents have been trying to lure him downstairs for the past hour, but he hasn’t moved from the bathroom where he has locked himself in. They tried telling him that his Grandparents had come over; they tried bribing him with sweets; they even tried with money, but still, he didn’t want to.

“Okay,” I say hesitantly, picking up the knife my Grandad passes me and cutting the cake down the middle.

I’m a little wary at first, because I know how upset Michael would be if his only memory of his 18th Birthday was a picture of me cutting his cake, but I know that really it’s his fault for not participating. But I can’t stop thinking that if I hadn’t told my parents about him in the first place, he would feel fine about coming down.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of my mind, I smile when Dad takes a picture of me cutting the cake, and I don’t think twice about what Michael will think of this in the future.

“Aw, you look beautiful!” He comments, and it’s as if it’s my Birthday, not my Brother’s. I guess I could pretend, maybe practise for my own 18th Birthday in a six year’s time?

But it’s still not the same without Michael, and so twenty minutes later, when all the food has been eaten except one slice of cake (my family are greedy), I take some up to Michael.

Clambering up the stairs, I notice the bathroom is empty, so I knock on his bedroom door politely.

“Don’t come in.” He says immediately.

“But you don’t even know who it is.” I whine.

“Now I do.” I can almost feel him staring at me through the door, and it makes me feel uneasy.

There was once a time when he would always trust me, and no one else. He’d be the one who was there for me and helped me get through things when the going got tough. I always believed in everything he told me, even it was something I knew couldn’t possibly be true.

When I was 5, he told me that aliens existed and that they would watch over us when we weren’t looking. He also said that the tooth fairy lived at the bottom of our garden, and that if I ever went to look for her, she’d fly away and never come back again, so I didn’t.

His stories always used to entertain me, and instead of my Mum or Dad reading me a goodnight story, he would. I guess I kind of miss that, though I know I’m gone past that age now. But knowing now that Michael hates me because of something stupid I’ve done, is horrible. I want him to be there for me again like he always was.

“I left you a slice of cake.” I squeak, only just loud enough for him to hear it, running to the door and opening it up. He snatches the cake off of me and closes the door shut immediately.

Sighing, I start to walk away, but just as I’m about to, he pulls the door open a crack. He looks almost sad, staring out at me, but then he clicks it shut, and he’s gone again. Just like that. As if all he wanted to do was check I was okay.

                                                                        ~ ~ ~ ~

Ten days later, I’m standing on the doorstep to our house, waving off Michael. Of course, his goodbyes aren’t very lovable. He didn’t even give me a hug – not even my Mum or Dad. All he did was drag his suitcase down the stairs and head for the door.

“Bye” was all he said, and now he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in us.

I feel sad that he doesn’t care anymore. Once, he would have given me a massive bear hug as a goodbye, and held onto my hand until the last minute when he would flee. He would have told me that he would call me every day and that he’d send postcards telling me how he’s doing.

But now, he doesn’t do either. He just seats himself in his car, and drives off. No beep of the horn or flash of the light. Nothing.

“Don’t worry – he’ll be fine.” My Dad reassures me, putting an arm round my shoulder and guiding me back inside.

“Yeah, I’m sure he will be.” My Mum adds in.

But the thing is, I know he won’t be. People out there are nasty and I know he’s old enough to fight them off on his own but really he won’t cope. He needs us, family support, and I doubt he’ll even think about me whilst he’s out there. I doubt he’ll even remember the memories we had together. He’ll forget me altogether someday, I know he will.

Tonight, whilst I’m lying in bed, all the troubles start to hit me hard. After dressing into my PJ’s, I had tucked myself up into bed myself, and now I’m just lying here in silence, listening to the voices downstairs rising up, and up, almost breaking the ceiling above me.

I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. My parents sound mean and evil and they aren’t being very nice to each other. They have never argued before and it’s scary when they do now.

I creep to the stairs to listen, because lying in bed with the pillow over my head still doesn’t keep me from wondering. Poking my head through the banister, I pick up on the conversation.

“Well haven’t you thought that maybe it’s your fault he has no friends? Maybe you should connect with him more, like other Dad’s do with their children.” My Mum shouts.

“Yeah but it’s hard when he’s eighteen and we have nothing in common! What am I supposed to do to gain his attention? He won’t want to go anywhere with me.” My Dad replies.

“But you could have tried.” My Mother’s voice sounds annoyed and frustrated, tired and fed up.

“Look, I know I could have tried but really this has nothing to do with his social life outside of home. It’s not my fault he has no friends!” Dad cries.

“I never said it was your fault! Gosh, why are you always presuming everything? I’m just trying to help because I don’t want my poor boy suffering.”

“You say it as if he’s your child and not mine!” My Dad’s voice is fierce and over-powering. As soon as it’s out there, every sound drifts into silence. All I can hear is the clock ticking constantly in the hallway.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

And before I know it I hear footsteps stomping up the stairs. As fast as lightning I dart across the carpet, jumping into bed and closing my eyes. The floorboards creak loudly as my parents pass my room, and then the lights clicked off. All is black.

I can feel my heart racing like crazy, but as it calms down – slowly, slowly – my eyes begin to shut…

                                                                            ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day, I wake up bright and early in time for school. I much on some cheerio’s as my breakfast and then I change quickly into my uniform. I quite like going to school now, because I have recently become best friends with this girl called Amelia. She’s really nice and the other day she gave me a friendship bracelet.

“I swear on my life we are going to be best friends forever and ever,” She said when she handed me the bracelet, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Now, I say goodbye to my Mum and Dad, and then I walk off to school which is only down the road. As soon as I get there, I notice that the playground is already swarming with bodies, but it’s easy to pick out Amelia, because she’s the one running towards me.

“Lily!” She cries when she spots me.

“Hi!” I squeal, as she jogs up to me out of breath.

“Guess what?” She says, a little upset, “Jade took my friendship bracelet and broke it.”

I look down at her wrist and it’s empty. Then I look across at mine, which has the shiny golden bracelet wrapped around it. I can feel tears pricking my eyes.

“That’s so mean!” I say, fighting away the tears, “Anyway, I have something to tell you at Break.”

“Really?” Amelia says, eyes shining, “Tell me now?”

I nod my head clearly. “You will have to wait.”

She laughs and we go inside for registration. Our teacher Mrs Weller is already reading out the names when we arrive a little later than usual, because of taking an en-route to the toilets.

“Sorry we’re late,” We say in unison, and Mrs Weller just smiles kindly.

We then take a seat at the back and wait for our lessons to start…

                                                                           ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as Break begins, I rush off with Amelia into the playground. She holds my arm as we glide through the breeze, and then we reach the bench on the far end of the playground.

“Tell me now, tell me now!” Amelia cries, shaking me so hard I think I might fall off.

“Okay okay,” I say, taking a deep breath.

“Well, since Michael has left my parents have been arguing.” I explain, watching Amelia’s gobsmacked face, “And it’s really scary. I don’t like it.”

“Oh no. That’s terrible. You’re going to have to pick between them…”

“What?” I ask, unsure of what she is talking about.

“Nevermind,” she says, already walking off, “You’ll know what I mean.”

I tag along behind her as runs off to join the other group of girls. I see her ‘talking in private’ with a few girls and I wonder what she’s doing. But then I just think that she’s telling them about her new horse – a real one – that she got for her Birthday. Her name’s Candy and Amelia promised I could have a go on her sometime.

I hope that time comes soon.

I really do.

I want something to be happy about because everything is depressing at the moment.

I don’t like it like this.

                                                                  ~ ~ ~ ~

When I get home in the afternoon, Mum and Dad aren’t there. Slipping off my shoes I grab a packet of crisps from the kitchen cupboards and flop onto the sofa to watch TV. It’s at least another half an hour until they arrive back.

“Hi,” I say when they’ve come in, “Where were you?”

“Um,” My Mum looks for my Dad for help, “We were…just at the cinema.”

Shrugging, I go back to watching the TV. I do wonder what they went to watch, considering they like completely different movies, but I think there’s no point in asking. And for half of it, I don’t want to know the real reason.

Later on when we’re having a dinner, I notice my parent’s moodiness.

“Why have I not got a knife?” My Dad bellows, banging his fist on the table.

“Careful,” Mum retorts, “And I must have forgot, sorry.”

“Oh, of course you did.” My Dad pushes his chair back so suddenly it smacks against the wall, and he storms off to get one. How is something so little tearing him up like this?

I decide to leave the table as soon as I’ve finished, vanishing off to my room. Again, I hear the voice – much louder this time – but I decide not to listen. I’d rather not because when they talk about Michael it makes me upset. I then realise how much I miss him again, and how much they don’t.

                                                                           ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day, I’m full glad to be off to school. Mum and Dad have started to argue in the mornings as well and to be honest it’s getting way too much. How did their attitude to each other change so quickly? Surely it isn’t because Michael left? But somehow I think it’s true. Somehow I almost should be annoyed at Michael for tearing them apart.

It’s like we needed him to keep our family together and now that he’s gone, we’re all drifting apart. Even Mum and Dad aren’t paying much attention to me; they’re only bothered in annoying each other.

So when I walk into the playground at school, ready for a calm and peaceful day, I definitely get a massive surprise. Looking across the playground I see Lily, but she’s not calling my name, running over to me, or anything. What is up?

Before I can reach her, another girl runs up to me.

“I heard your parents are getting divorced.” She snarls at me, and I look at her confused.

“No they’re not. They are just arguing.” I retort.

“Arguing leads to divorce. And divorce is bad and for poor kids.” She exclaims, as if she’s much better than me.

Storming up to Amelia I ask her what’s going on. How come everyone knows the secret I only told Amelia?

“Well, who wants to be friends with a poor kid who doesn’t have a proper family, and won’t have a proper house.”

“Of course I’ll have a proper house!” I cry, anger bubbling inside me, “My parents aren’t that poor!”

“Oh but they will be,” Amelia says, “After they’ve been to court over it.”

“What are you even talking about?” I scream, because I don’t know how she knows all of this.

And just before I’m about to push her over in annoyance, I feel someone grab hold of my arm, steering me inside. It’s Mrs Weller – my teacher.

“Lily, I can’t believe you’d do something so horrific. Don’t you ever scream in the playground again!” She yanks me inside and I watch intently at Amelia, who’s laughing at me.

I can feel a tear trickling down my cheek but I don’t even think about rubbing it away. Pulling off my bracelet I throw it on the ground, the silver charms buried in dirt. She was never my best friend. Not really.

So as I’m taken inside to sit in the Head-Teacher’s office, I think about what Amelia said: ‘who wants to be friends with a poor kid who doesn’t have a proper family.’

Of course I have a proper family. Of course I’m not poor. Of course my parents aren’t getting divorced – they’re just going through a tough patch.

But somehow, I don’t believe it. Deep inside, I might even agree with Amelia. I’m scared that she’s true. I’m scared because my family were perfect, and now that Michael’s gone they aren’t. It’s true, my family are breaking apart.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

“I don’t like it!” Those words I remember screaming at Amelia.

“I don’t like you!” She shouted, turning her back on me.

And I easily could change them into the truth, because I know it.

“I never liked you.”

 

 

*2,866 words*

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