1st 5 Pages Workshop - Mitchell Rev 1

Name: Prentis Mitchell
Genre: Young Adult, Magical realism
Title: The Hidden

The Opening Move

Jess Emem.  1.

The day at school had been a battle of endurance for Jess.

Her trials began with double French. Madam Chelsie hit them with a barrage of antecedents and conjugations which Jess would have struggled to understand in English, never mind French. Even from this low point, the day managed to continued to slide downhill.  

Out on the playing field, the cold wind bit into her bare legs as Jess and her friend, Paula, skilfully avoided any involvement in the football match.  The others kicked the ball around the pitch with such ferocity that at times Jess feared for her life.  

‘On your head!’ came a cry from across the field before the ball smashed straight into her face. 

The pain seared through her nose, stinging her eyes and drowning out the raucous laughter of the class.  The teacher raced over at the sight of blood, fishing an old tissue from out of her sleeve.  Jess took the tissue and pinched it to her nose as she trudged off to medical.  

The bleeding finally stopped by the time lunch arrived.  The queue for lunch snaked out of the door and so Jess squeezed herself through the line, scanning the canteen for Paula and the others.

A voice screeched from across the hall- ‘Oi, nice nose job, freak!’

Mandy Chambers sat surrounded by her sniggering cronies.  Using the canteen as her stage, she hollered over to Jess.  Like seagulls to a picnic, the mob began to build in anticipation of the approaching drama.

‘If you want, we can mess up the rest of your face to go with the nose.’ 

Jess turned away, shrugging off the laughter and trying her hardest to ignore the sting of humiliation.  Her hunt for Paula became more urgent as Mandy spat insult after insult at her.  After all these years together, Mandy never tired of preying on others. 

‘Look at the little tramp- covered in blood.  She hasn’t even got changed.’

The laughter in the hall became too much for Jess.  She ran from the canteen with the sound of Mandy’s taunts stabbing at her. The toilets were the only place Jess could think of to hide out on her own.  Looking at herself in the mirror, she wished she could wipe away the shame of running from Mandy as easily as she could the tears. A crowd of giggling year eight girls crashed through the door, shattering the peace of her temporary oasis.  Jess gave her eyes a final wipe, dropped the tissues into the bin and headed off to the torment which was fifth period maths.  

Finally, school was over.  Just as Jess thought the end was in view, another more upsetting sight hit her-  the bus home pulling away without her.  She ran as fast as she could, arms waving frantically to catch the driver’s attention, but the bus disappeared with Mandy and her gang sneering and pointing from the back window. Jess looked at her phone.  Her mum  would probably still be at work and wouldn’t appreciate her calling her for a lift.  Rather than face  an hour’s wait in the cold for the next bus, she slung her heavy bag to her shoulder and began the long walk home alone.  

The last dying rays of sun dipped behind the houses leaving a thin sliver of moon grinning  down on Jess as she hurried through the street.  Curtains were drawing the eyes of the buildings shut.  She dug her hands into her pockets, pulling her coat around her, as the chill wind swept down the street rustling the last few remaining leaves on the trees.  The only thing keeping Jess going was the thought that her mum may be home by now. Perhaps they could snuggle down with a duvet and binge watch something on TV.  With her head down, she didn’t notice the car until it tore past her, sending a torrent of water splashing from the puddle.  She dodged aside but it was too late to avoid the spray.  

‘How can this bloody day get any worse?’ she cursed under her breath, looking down at her drenched socks. 

She had no idea just how much worse the day would become.  

Brushing the water from her jacket, she crossed the road, completely unaware of the stranger who eagerly watched her doorway - a dark shape looming in the shadows of the alleyway.

Her stomach rumbled at the lingering smell of bread from the bakery tucked away in the basement of her building.  Through the window, Jess watched the last of the staff clear the chairs onto the tables as they swept the remains of the day away. She wished they could eat out tonight or even better order in some pizza. 

Jess climbed the steps to the front door, her bag cutting into her shoulder. Jess’ fingers stabbed the door code into the keypad, still oblivious to the stranger who watched from across the road memorising the position of each digit she pressed.  The door buzzed and she slipped into the warm glow of her building.  But before the door had even closed behind her, the shadow from the alleyway made its move.  Heavy feet pounded across the road towards her door.  

Desperate to put this day behind her, she took the stairs two at a time.  She passed by the rich smells drifting from number 23’s dinner and a fluffy, white cat curled up on a forgotten shopping bag.  The cat barely managed to force an eye open as she passed by.  At the door of her apartment, lay a parcel. The sight of the small brown box brought the first tingle of excitement in her whole day.  She picked it up, hoping it was for her.  The excitement slipped away as quickly as it had appeared when she saw the name ‘Mr Maughan’ printed on the label; they had left her neighbour’s parcel at the wrong address again.  She dropped it back to the floor, slipped her key into the lock and pushed open the door.

Jess abandoned her school bag on the floor, followed closely by her coat and wet socks.  It only took a couple of shouts to figure out that the flat was empty.  She went to the kitchen.  The light flickered to life illuminating a plate of food wrapped in cling film and a scribbled note left on the kitchen worktop.  Jess scanned the note.

‘So much for still being at work,’ she spat.

She tossed the note aside where it landed on the cold leftovers.  Her mum had gone out with her friend.  

Again.  

All the anger and frustrations of the day twisted and gnawed in her stomach. The phone was in her hand before she even knew what she was going to say.  It rang and rang until eventually she heard her mum’s voice.

‘Hi.  I can’t take your call right now.  Please leave me a message.  Bye.’

The answer phone beep pierced Jess’ ears.  The ball of anger in her tummy erupted - a raging storm of frustration which she threw at her mum.  

‘I can’t actually believe you’ve gone out again.  Where even are you? I’ve been at school all day you know.’  

The rant continued.  For the most of it, Jess could not even remember what she said.  She threw the phone down onto the table.  The initial flood of anger was receding and now guilt was slipping inside.  She shouldn’t have said those things to her mum.  It was too late for that now, Jess thought as she shoved  the plate of food aside.  And anyway, if her mum had gone out partying with her friend, then why should she feel guilty or eat cold left overs from yesterday? Jess thundered out of the kitchen in search of the takeaway menus.