Alone, chapter 3
*ROXYS POV*
As I said at the start of this story, it may frighten young children. Maybe I should be more specific. It would frighten anybody who is of a dark nature. The description you are about to hear is so disgusting, you may not want to read it. Think how I must of felt when I walked in. As soon as I stood in the doorway and kicked my converses off, I could smell the sick smell of bacon. I hate bacon. In fact now that I think about it, the hall way was the exact same shade of pink (yuck) as bacon. The whole house was the exact same colour. I almost cried, when I looked in the fridge and say it was full of... Well you can probably guess.
"Excuse me I've got to use the bathroom."
I sat on the edge of the bath with my head in my lap. Great. Not only was I attached to a mop top, retarded prat of a kid, but I couldn't ditch him because of his close relations. I took a deep breath and walked out to my fait.
As I reached the kitchen Billie Joe smiled at me and said, "We're having bacon. Is that OK?"
I gulped heavily as I looked at the stove. It was coated in strips of bacon. How could I say no? I gulped down my guilt and nodded.
*BILLIE JOE POV*
After a delicious tea of bacon sandwiches, Roxy and I walked up to my room. She looked quite upset for some reason, but I thought she might just be full after 7 rashers of bacon.
As we got into my room, she stopped still and stared at one of my walls. I didn't know why, until I realised she was staring at my guitar. Well... My dads guitar.
"You... You... You play guitar?"
"No it used to be my Dad's before he... He..."
*ROXYS POV*
He didn't need to continue. His eyes filled with tears. And I patted him on the shoulder. I was suddenly filled with guilt. He wasn't a loser. He was just a misunderstood kid. Who just happened to be interested in school work. But I still couldn't resist picking up his guitar and strumming out the first random tune that came into my head. As I finished playing, I spun round and saw him froze to the spot. It was difficult to find anything to say. I was scared I was going to say something hurtful or stupid, so simply said, "My Mum wants me home after we've had tea. I'd better go."
He nodded and walked downstairs to tell his Mum I had to go. The truth was though, my Mum didn't care when I came home. She didn't care if I didn't come home at all. But I just had to leave his house.
As I said at the start of this story, it may frighten young children. Maybe I should be more specific. It would frighten anybody who is of a dark nature. The description you are about to hear is so disgusting, you may not want to read it. Think how I must of felt when I walked in. As soon as I stood in the doorway and kicked my converses off, I could smell the sick smell of bacon. I hate bacon. In fact now that I think about it, the hall way was the exact same shade of pink (yuck) as bacon. The whole house was the exact same colour. I almost cried, when I looked in the fridge and say it was full of... Well you can probably guess.
"Excuse me I've got to use the bathroom."
I sat on the edge of the bath with my head in my lap. Great. Not only was I attached to a mop top, retarded prat of a kid, but I couldn't ditch him because of his close relations. I took a deep breath and walked out to my fait.
As I reached the kitchen Billie Joe smiled at me and said, "We're having bacon. Is that OK?"
I gulped heavily as I looked at the stove. It was coated in strips of bacon. How could I say no? I gulped down my guilt and nodded.
*BILLIE JOE POV*
After a delicious tea of bacon sandwiches, Roxy and I walked up to my room. She looked quite upset for some reason, but I thought she might just be full after 7 rashers of bacon.
As we got into my room, she stopped still and stared at one of my walls. I didn't know why, until I realised she was staring at my guitar. Well... My dads guitar.
"You... You... You play guitar?"
"No it used to be my Dad's before he... He..."
*ROXYS POV*
He didn't need to continue. His eyes filled with tears. And I patted him on the shoulder. I was suddenly filled with guilt. He wasn't a loser. He was just a misunderstood kid. Who just happened to be interested in school work. But I still couldn't resist picking up his guitar and strumming out the first random tune that came into my head. As I finished playing, I spun round and saw him froze to the spot. It was difficult to find anything to say. I was scared I was going to say something hurtful or stupid, so simply said, "My Mum wants me home after we've had tea. I'd better go."
He nodded and walked downstairs to tell his Mum I had to go. The truth was though, my Mum didn't care when I came home. She didn't care if I didn't come home at all. But I just had to leave his house.
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