She goes out a lot.
Though I never know when she's at home anyway, she rarely comes out of her room, and the door is always locked.
Dad threatens to remove the lock nearly every week, but I know he never will.
I wish I knew where she goes.
Sometimes I catch her just as she's leaving and I ask her where she's going.
The answer is always the same.
Out.
I ask if I can come with her.
The answer is always the same.
No.
And then the door closes.
She returns home late.
Sometimes I'm asleep.
Sometimes I'm awake.
If Dad's awake, he shouts.
If Mum's awake, she cries.
If I'm awake, I sit in silence wondering what's going on.
Doors will slam.
Charlene's door will slam.
The lock will click.
And the bed will creak.
I will knock.
Charlene will shout.
Go away.
And I do.
YOU ARE READING
Charlene (on hold)
Short Story"She goes out a lot. Although I never know when she's at home anyway, she rarely comes out of her room, and the door is always locked. Dad threatens to remove the lock nearly every week, but I know he never will." A short story (or long poem dependi...
