The Visitor

Ava Blackhouse has huge dreams of going to Paris. But what will happen to her if she goes?

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1. The Visitor

Narrative writing

The visitor

As Simon shoves his hood up and says “Goodbye,” I remind myself of what a great friend I have. He strolls off into the dark, damp distance. The dark sky is sequinned with dazzling stars; which watch over me as I step through this lonely town. As I approach my front door, I see my Auntie Sophia downing an enormous bottle of wine. She gulps loudly and roars “WHO IS IT?” Soon after, she catches sight of me and storms off with attitude.

    My days are just repeatedly broken into diminutive pieces of nothing. I have dreams; dreams where I am taken into a wonderland of happiness. I stride downstairs to see my Auntie, loudly gulping another bottle of wine. She speeds to my attention as she clings onto my leg vigorously, whilst whining, somehow, a different language. I shove her off and dash upstairs rapidly. Whilst burying my head into my pillow, forcefully, I realise how my life could be so much easier and better.

    Waking up accomplishes the award for the worst part of the day; having to disguise my life as being full of excitement and joy. I hear my Auntie Sophia spewing loudly downstairs and I sigh in disgrace. I remember when I used to play piano; when my parents were around. My eyes catch sight of a certificate, in which I was awarded when I was seven. It says ‘Certificate for Ava Blackhouse,’ in fancy writing. Remembering that day brings back other sensational memories.

    I thrust myself out of bed, to get myself ready for school. On the side table, a necklace comes to my attention. It’s a gold chain with a shiny, gold locket on, as I open the locket up a photograph of my grandmother assembles inside. Its not mine, who’s could it be? Attempting to overlook it, I stroll downstairs. Pictures of ancestors hang up on the walls eerily. I get downstairs, my
Auntie stares right into my eyes; creating some kind of rain cloud over me. Quickly I clutch onto an apple, grab my school bag and ascend out of the front door.

    Across the road I see Simon waving embarrassingly, then almost getting run over by a car. He approaches me swiftly, however is looking at me in a strange way.

“What?” I ask.

“What do you mean what?” he responds, chuckling.

“You’re looking at me strangely.”

“I’m not.” He replies bluntly.

He is acting strange; as if he’s hiding something from me. Whatever it is – I want to know.

    Briskly, we approach ‘Westmoore High School.’ Seas of people scatter everywhere; on the field, near the gates, near the entrance and in the canteen, it’s like a zoo. As soon as the scent of school food flies into my nostrils, hungriness washes over me instantly.  No matter how crazy it sounds, I yearn for a warm, greasy slice of toast. Suddenly the bell rings deafeningly. Steam disperses out of my ears and my face goes red, like in a cartoon. And then, at that moment, I dread the school day.

    School always swifts by quickly. Time is a theif. Simon and I stride out of the main entrance, realizing no one is anywhere to be seen. “Simon, where is everyone?” I question.

“I don’t know.” He replies bluntly.

Still, he is acting strange. I don’t know what he’s hiding, nevertheless I can’t guess.  Overlooking that, we amble home.

   When we arrive at my house, I see my Grandmother’s car parked in the driveway. Speeding up, I predict why she could be here. I haven’t seen her since my parents passed away, nevertheless its its not like I saw her that often before that. She sits patiently in an old, dustrly armchair, looking out the window. She catches sight of me suddenly. “Ava! How lovely to see you! Gosh, haven’t you grown!” she exclaims in a sweet voice.

“Hi Grandma, what are you doing here?” I ask hesitantly.

“I came over to tell you something.”

I nod implying for her to tell me.

“Listen, I know, well we both know that you’ve always had big dreams of going to Paris.”

“Yes?”

“Well, I know that one day you will go to Paris. However something will happen to you.” She conveys.

I look at her oddly, as if she is crazy and out of her mind. Then she just stood up and left. No goodbye. I can’t get my head around what she meant by saying ‘Something will happen to you.’ What’s it supposed to mean?

    Soon after Simon assembles into the room.  He looks at me oddly (the way he’s been looking at me all day). He ruffles through his pocket, attempting to get something out. Bringing out an envelope,  a cheesy smile washes over his face. He sits me down and passes me the envelope. Questions are running through my head rapidly, predicting of what could be inside. I open it up and pursue to be seeing a ticket for Paris in my hands. Apprehension rushes over me, making me intensely excited.

“Simon! You got us tickets for Paris!” I exclaim enthusiastically.

“Yeah! We are leaving tomorrow, so you best start packing.”

    I dash upstairs rapidly, not thinking about anything other than Paris. I cannot even describe what I feel like right now. I’m deafeningly speechless.

 ***

     Its already the next day and things are going by like the speed of a race car. Simon and I speed off to catch our train for Paris.

“Hey, guess what we are doing today?” Simon exclaimed, on the train.

“I don’t know, what are…”

“Two words- Eiffel Tower!” Simon interrupted.

“Are you joking? We’re going to the Eiffel Tower?”

“Yes!”

Butterflies fill my stomach, making me excited, however nervous. Before I know it we will be at the top of the Eiffel Tower, with our mouths dropping and our eyes widening like an owl.

    Simon and I slept for most of the tedious train journey; for the rest we communicated. Nevertheless, we are in Paris! Finally my dreams are coming true.

Rapidly, Simon and I dropped our items at the hotel as if it was our home. We unpacked as fast as the speed of light, as if we had to be somewhere; in which we did. My dreams have finally come to life. When I was five I dreamed of being a mother; I obviously had professional training; from playing with plastic baby dolls and pushchairs. However when I was ten I dreamed of being famous (knowing that dream would never come true). Nevertheless this one has.

    “So here’s the plan: first we grab lunch downstairs. Then make our way to the Eiffel Tower. Appropriate?” Simon exclaims and asks.

“Appropriate.” I respond bluntly.

I start to grin, not even realizing. I am so excited, yet nervous. However, I can’t think of anything that could possibly go wrong.

    After grabbing breakfast quickly, we scurried out of the hotel to catch a taxi. As the taxi pulled up, the grumbling of the engine got quieter. The taxi man sat slouched, with blonde dreadlocks and rugged clothes; the the sight you would expect to see in Paris. As we set off the grumbling of the engine started to get louder and louder again.

     Then before we know it, we are at the astounding Eiffel Tower. The grey clouds fill the sky like smoke; however no people are anywhere to be seen. In the distance, I can see a man standing next to the tower, in a uniform who looks like an instructor. Simon and I stroll swiftly up to the Tower.

    We arrive at the tower, pass the confirmation sheets to the instructor and make our way up the elevator. It rattles, like coins in a cash machine and apprehension builds up. Butterflies fly around in my stomach; excited ones and nervous ones. Then we approach the top floor. The doors open swiftly, building up more tension.  We step through and suddenly our mouths drop.

    Soon after the astonishment the sky starts to mumble and grumble, as if a storm is coming. The windows crack suddenly. “Simon!” I exclaim deafeningly. The windows start to shatter terribly and my whole body freezes. The forceful wind pushes through and starts to pull me…

Then the next moment I’m falling. Falling down from the Eiffel Tower.

    Suddenly I wake up. I wake up, realizing I was in a dream. It was all just a dream. Maybe dreams about Paris aren't dreams after all; maybe they’re just nightmares…

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