The Hurting Girl

Chapter 5

I entered the house and slammed the door behind me. “Mum, I‘m home!” I shouted, and made my way into the dining room, where I knew that I would find my mother. I came into the room and smiled at her tentatively. She took one look at me and started bawling.

Don’t worry; I’m not as disgusting as I sound. My mother has a memory problem; basically she can never remember who me or my brother are. My dad is the only one she trusts. It’s hard sometimes, when you know that your own mother cannot recognize you, but we cope. We can’t afford a doctor, so chances are she is going to stay like that forever. I try not to show it, but it upsets me so much. I lie awake in my bed at night, sobbing my heart out, crying for the mother who doesn’t know her own daughter.

I made my way upstairs, pausing next to my brother’s room. I heard a couple of voices and realised that he had some friends round. I decided to let him be. I walked up right to the very top of the house, where the attic room is, which happens to be my room. I pushed open the door, collapsed on my bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

My dream was strange that night. I dreamt that I was throwing knives at Amy, and every single one was hitting her. She then trapped me in a snare and Cato came and freed me with his knife. When I woke up the next morning though, I remembered none of it.

The walk to the academy was terrifying. I kept visualising Amy jumping out from behind all the bushes and trees, but luckily, she appeared not be doing so.

I got to the academy and made my way to our first lesson; the study of plants. As soon as I entered the classroom I was greeted by a girl called Carla, who offered to be my partner in this class. I accepted her offer, and as soon as we were given instructions, we got started.

I was annoyed to see Amy in class today. I was hoping that as I broke her arm she might stay at home for the day, but that didn’t appear to be happening. As a class, we collected our data on the plants, and came to the conclusion that a thin, spindly stalk named Conifferous was able to kill with just two strands. As we stood up to leave the classroom, I saw Amy look around urgently, and then quickly sneak a few strands into her pocket, which left me with the question; What could Amy possibly be planning?