A ‘blast’ from the past?

I’m so pleased, I found an old CD with all the data off all my past computers. I even found this short novel I wrote when I was like, 12! Woo!

Anyway, I came on here because I found one story that struck me in particular. I wrote it for my English A Level as a creative writing piece, and the version I’ve posted below is before I edited it and made it a lot better, writing wise. But what so fascinates me is this raw writing, because at this exact moment in my life, my Mum had an affair with a woman and left the family home. I was devastated for years afterwards. I wanted to post the unedited/bad version of this because at the time, I genuinely did not connect the writing of this story with the upheaval of my life, and yet now it’s glaringly obvious in the first draft.

Do excuse the angstiness and terrible writing. Like I say, I was 15 or 16 and this is a first draft:

Waters

David:

I lay there, her breathing heavy by my ear. Her chest falling up and down – still quite quickly. She lay next to me in our bed. She loved the sheets. New from M+S, they were pure brilliant white. “New fresh sheets for our new fresh life!” I heard her voice in my head.

I sipped delicately from the glass of water on the bed side table, my teeth clinking on the glass. I wasn’t thirsty, but it felt like something to occupy myself with.

I ran my hand slowly over the sheets, and my finger caught on a hole. Looking down, I poked my finger in the small burnt mark, and I remembered. Next to me, her chest continued to rise and to fall.

Dave:

I lay there, his heavy breathing by my ear. His chest falling up and down – still quite quickly. His lips formed a very small smile, his big eyelids closed. He lay next to me in my bed. He didn’t like the sheets. “Sorry about that…” He’d said, burning a small hole in the white cotton with his cigarette. 

I took a large gulp from the glass of water on the bed side table, the water running so coolly down my throat. I was so thirsty, but the water didn’t make my throat stop feeling so dry. That happened when I felt guilty. And my throat was so dry it hurt.

I ran my hand slowly down my arm, thinking about what I had just done. Looking across, I watched him get out of bed and get dressed. I would remember. Next to me lay an empty space.

David:

When I was still working in the corner shop, I’d sit there, pressing keys on the cash register. Although I was paying attention, I felt oblivious to each customer. Beep, tap, ping, thank you, yeah, see you again, ba-bye now… I didn’t even notice when she came in. Scanned the bottle of water, held out my hand for the money and looked straight through her. Took the money, beep, tap, ping, thank you, yeah, see you again, ba-bye now… It cost me a night on my own.

Dave: 

Another time at the shop, I sat there, pressing keys on the cash register. The clock said I had ten minutes until the end of my shift. The shop was dead, and so was I. I counted each second passing by, holding my breath for as long as I could before passing out. “Umm, hey are you OK?” I sat up. My vision clouded completely, so I smiled vaguely and reached over to grab the items out of the basket. Blinking, I looked up to see a man looking down at me. I felt surreal, detached. Maybe it was the nausea, maybe it was the fact I’d slept on the sofa last night, maybe it was too much coffee earlier. But I didn’t think so. I looked at him and he winked. Beep, tap, ping, thank you, yeah, see you again, ba-bye now… It cost me my life.

David:

It was chicken and chips for tea one night, with tall glasses of tepid water as an accompaniment. I sat at the table, eating in silence. She talked and talked, I nodded and nodded. I wasn’t listening. I just thought about him. What was he doing right now? Is he thinking about me? When would I see him next? The talking stopped. I looked up and smiled. “The food’s nice.”

Dave:

It was chicken in red wine and roast potatoes for dinner at one night, with iced water in crystal glasses as an accompaniment. I sat in the restaurant, eating in silence. He talked and talked, I nodded and nodded. I wasn’t listening. I just thought someone might see me. What if someone I knew was here? What would they think? What would they say? The talking stopped. I looked up and smiled. “The food’s nice.”

David:

“What’s this in the sheets David?” She asked, sounding curious and knowing all at once. She flicked the cigarette burn in the white sheets. We both watched it as our thoughts accumulated. I thought about the ruined sheets.

“You don’t smoke.” She said quietly. She looked up at me and I lost any excuses I’d already made up. It wasn’t worth it. This marriage wasn’t worth it. It hurt to do this, but it was simply how I felt. I liked to look out for number one. She left the room and I took my chance.

I threw the clothes into the rucksack as quickly as I could manage. Shirts, trousers, aftershave she bought me for Christmas, a book I’d been reading. I stood up and looked around for any more of my things that needed packing. She came back in looking tearful but angry. I stopped still. We both stood there, calm before storm. She walked slowly towards me, and made a sudden movement to the side, grabbing the House of Fraser vase. She held it high over her head, and took aim. I winced slightly but stayed where I was. The vase flew towards me, and she screamed as she hurled it with all her strength. I ducked and it hit the wall behind, smashing spectacularly.

She ran at me, shouting words that were muffled by her sorrow. Fists flew out with no coordination and finally she collapsed. I held her wrists and she put her head on my chest, her breathing getting slower. A tear dripped onto my shoulder, and it rolled down my coat and into the fabric folds. I let go of her. Picked up my bag. Walked out.

Dave:

“What d’you want Dave?” He asked, looking at my rucksack and raising an eyebrow. He flicked the cigarette and the ash dropped on my shoe. We both watched it blow away off the suede and onto the pavement. I thought about my ruined marriage.

“Dave?” He said, sounding impatient. He looked at me and I was lost for words as I saw the cynical look on his face. Was he worth it? It hurt to see him look at me like this, but I guess it was how he felt. He liked to look out for number one.

“You can’t stay here.” He said, taking another drag on his cigarette. The words reverberated round my head, through my head, jarring into my brain, tingling through my flesh. I winced slightly, and nodded my head in acknowledgement. 

I walked to him, saying nothing at all. I held out my hand, and he smiled ironically as I shook it. I held onto his hand for as long as I could but he dropped mine. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and follow the same path as hers. He let go of me. Handed me my bag. I walked out.

Me:

I walked alone down the street, avoiding even the smallest physical contact with anyone. I liked her

. I liked him. I liked girls. I liked boys. I liked Pepsi. I liked Coke. I liked toast. I liked cereal. I was David. I was Dave. I didn’t like either.

Sure, I could easily pass the blame, so easily. She was boring, bossy, nagging, she drove me away. He was cool, cute and calm, he led me into it. I felt as if I’d completely lost sense of right and wrong, such simple things. Black and white, good and bad. What I had done never felt wrong, so why did I feel there was blame to be placed? She was so hurt. He didn’t care. About either of us. Ultimately though, if blame was to go somewhere, it was on me. I made my own decisions, always the wrong ones. I was the type to experiment, to be curious. Curiosity killed the cat.

I hadn’t realised where I’d been walking. Me feet stopped and the wind blew my short hair across my eyes. Underneath, the waters rushed. They had no emotion to them. It wasn’t a happy babbling brook, or a monstrous roaring waterfall. Just water rushing under a bridge.

I sat on the ledge and felt the wind on my face, ruffling my shirt. I didn’t deserve to be caressed so lovingly by nature. Surely I was a wrong person.

So I leant forward, further, further. My fingers left the hard cold edge of the wall and they floated on air. My feet scraped against the bricks and one of my shoes fell into the water. The wind screamed by my ears and the rushing noise of the river got louder. And then the cat was gone.

I heard nothing, and nothing heard me.