evol
07-05-2008, 09:54 AM
I know he's watching me, and I know he's out there. I'll just have to wait for him.
----
I watched the birds flying across the fields as I lay on my bed. My bedroom was so small I could touch both walls, and if I jumped and kicked my leg high enough I would crack my toes on the ceiling. And my head, for that matter.
My cousin's little cottage on the farm was, well, tiny. They only rented it but they didn't have to pay for it, because they worked their buts off on the farm, slaving away night and day. Me and my cousin cooked for the family, so we had food too. That was why I was brought out into the middle of nowhere, so I could help feed my poor relatives.
Every Friday morning, at dawn, I have to take out the bin bags, the wheelie bins, and the recycing bags. I leave them at the end of their half-mile long drive, where I am supposed to go back up to our cottage and get ready to go to the main house to make breakfast. But I've got into the habbit of getting up earlier and getting ready first. I stay out of the way of the bin lorry, or I'd catch the smell, I know that from past experiences. I accidently walked into the house smelling like rotten bananas once. That wasn't good. My uncle slapped my hand for that for breaking the rules. It's the first time I'd ever seen him angry. It's illegal to slap children, but he says he dosen't care and that I deserved it. I know I did, but I didn't show it.
But the bin lorry is the only thing of the twenty-first century I have seen since I moved out here. But now I don't see it anymore. It dosen't come.
The rest of the place is strange, they don't have a tractor, a horse and this wheel thing that I'm not allowed to touch, they use the cellar instead of a fridge, and the cooker only has one setting. Hot, very hot. I once bashed my head on the side of it while it was on full-blast, and ended up in hospital. I had burns to the head and arms because I clinged onto it. That was before.
But I know now that I'm back things won't be the same.
----
I watched the birds flying across the fields as I lay on my bed. My bedroom was so small I could touch both walls, and if I jumped and kicked my leg high enough I would crack my toes on the ceiling. And my head, for that matter.
My cousin's little cottage on the farm was, well, tiny. They only rented it but they didn't have to pay for it, because they worked their buts off on the farm, slaving away night and day. Me and my cousin cooked for the family, so we had food too. That was why I was brought out into the middle of nowhere, so I could help feed my poor relatives.
Every Friday morning, at dawn, I have to take out the bin bags, the wheelie bins, and the recycing bags. I leave them at the end of their half-mile long drive, where I am supposed to go back up to our cottage and get ready to go to the main house to make breakfast. But I've got into the habbit of getting up earlier and getting ready first. I stay out of the way of the bin lorry, or I'd catch the smell, I know that from past experiences. I accidently walked into the house smelling like rotten bananas once. That wasn't good. My uncle slapped my hand for that for breaking the rules. It's the first time I'd ever seen him angry. It's illegal to slap children, but he says he dosen't care and that I deserved it. I know I did, but I didn't show it.
But the bin lorry is the only thing of the twenty-first century I have seen since I moved out here. But now I don't see it anymore. It dosen't come.
The rest of the place is strange, they don't have a tractor, a horse and this wheel thing that I'm not allowed to touch, they use the cellar instead of a fridge, and the cooker only has one setting. Hot, very hot. I once bashed my head on the side of it while it was on full-blast, and ended up in hospital. I had burns to the head and arms because I clinged onto it. That was before.
But I know now that I'm back things won't be the same.