My Life - Original Writing

My Life - Original Writing

I am woken up by a loud bleeping noise. It's the truck picking up the

rubbish left outside the kebab shop. I get up and stretch as my legs

ache from being curled up al night, trying to keep out the cold.

A cat brushes himself against my leg and sends a shiver up my spine

like the one I got when Jason was screaming at me for not telling him

I was going to be late from work.

It's a Sunday morning and I walk down the deserted street looking for

somewhere to have a cup of coffee, I only have eighty pence on me

which isn't enough for a bacon sandwich so I'll have to settle for a

coffee.

The church bells ring and the town women, all dressed in black and

navy blue, stand around the priest like bees round their hives and

congratulate him on the wonderful sermon and invite him round to their

houses foe tea and biscuits.

I walk into a shelter for a bite to eat, this place is warm and has a

cozy feeling even if I don't know anyone here.

I stand in the queue and wait to pick up some tomato soup, coffee and

a piece of bread. Further on along the queue there are two men arguing

over the last cranberry pie. That takes me back to the rainy, humid ,

terrifying night that I ran away. My face starts to sting as I

remember Jason Slapping and shaking me. The hot coffee spills over my

hand making me jump back to reality, the volunteer apologizes

repeatedly for burning my hand.

I grab my tray and walk over to a deserted table in the corner of the

room, I sit down and pick up a newspaper that is left on the chair

next to me. This paper is full of greasy oil and smells like fish and

chips have been eaten of it. My attention is drawn to the headline

'Young woman abandons 8 year old child for street life' I read on and