Betty was walking down the street to her home. A tear stained face was painted on hers as she shivered in the cold rain. As she got closer to her home she saw a man. Probably around her age sat in the curb about 15 metres from her porch. He too was shivering. As she came closer to the man she saw the cuts and bruises all over his face. His head rose from his hands and he looked directly at her. His eyes were sorrowful and his lips chapped. His hair wet and his clothes bloody. She stopped and stared. 'Why was he here?' she thought. She had never seen him in her life. Cautiously she took a few more steps towards him. " Are you ok?" , she asked, " Do you need any help?" He stared at her blankly and slowly shook his head. He licked up an grey, crown shaped beanie from a puddle just bear his feet and stood up. " Sorry for the inconvenience. I'll go." And with that he disappeared into the darkness before she could say a word.
She walked up the steps to her bright red front door. She sighed and put the key in the lock. It fit perfectly. She scoffed at how perfect her home was. She hates perfection. No one was perfect but her mother thought that if she worked hard enough she could create a family that was. She looked around her pristine living room and saw no one. Phew, she didn't have to deal with her mother just yet. But alas she spoke too soon. Her mother dressed in her silk blue night gown and fluffy slippers appeared from the kitchen. A scowl drawn on her face as she glared at Betty. "What do you think this is Elizabeth. You're 5 minutes past curfew and you didn't even bother to call.", she whisper shouted at Betty. " I'm sorry mum it won't happen again." " It better not. No get to bed it's late." In reality it wasn't even past 10 pm but she didn't have the energy for more arguments. She escaped her mother's gaze and slowly ascended the stairs. As she reached the top a tear rolled down her cheek. Not from her mother but from the sight of that poor boy. She didn't know why but she felt a need to know him. To understand him.
As she entered her room she looked at the perfectly made bed. Pink. She looked at the arrangement of the pillows on the bay window seat. She hated her room but there was nothing she could do. She opened her pristine draws and picked out a neatly folded pair of pyjamas.
Betty's pyjamas:
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Once in her pyjamas, had brushed teeth and her hair was softly resting in her shoulders she climbed under the sheets ready for Monday morning as she drifted into a deep sleep.
