Whispers At Night.

“Jess! You’re going to be late for school if you don’t hurry up and get downstairs!” I groan at the sound of my mother’s voice but, nevertheless, I put on my disgusting school uniform and finish styling my hair and then head down into the kitchen.

“Mornin’ mum, what’s for breakfast?” I mumble, still half-asleep as I sit down at the table. I hear my father’s booming laughter from the opposite side of the table and I lean my head on my hand to stare at him, “What’s so funny, dad?”

“You do realise you don’t actually have school today, right Jess?” I turn to stare at my mum wide-eyed and dad carries on laughing away at my expense.

“Mum! Why did you trick me like that?” I whine, dragging out the ‘u’ in mum. She laughs at walks over to ruffle my hair. I swipe her hand away lightly and grumble about ‘how unfair she is to me’. I hear my dad’s laughter reduce down to a chuckle as he goes back to reading his newspaper. I sigh as I look at both of my parents in turn; I don’t know what I’d do without them. They’re always there for me and they didn’t leave me when everything went pear-shaped… I shudder at my sudden thoughts and squeeze my eyes shut tight to stop the tears forming in my eyes from falling.

“Jessy, are you okay sweetie?” I quickly wipe my eyes, just in case, and smile up at my mother.

“Yeah, I’m fine mum. Just tired.” I smile again as she hands me a plate of pancakes and a bottle of syrup. Sometimes I wonder how we’re English, and not American… I chuckle to myself and my dad raises an eyebrow at me as if I’m crazy. I just grin at him and tuck into my pancakes - after covering them in syrup, of course.

I finish my breakfast and get up, kissing my mum on the cheek and thanking her for breakfast. She smiles at me, “Go get changed, someone will be here soon!” I raise my eyebrow at her in question and she just continues to smile at me.

I groan, “Why won’t you just tell me?” But trudge up the stairs to my bedroom anyway.

I open my bedroom door and just stand there, staring at my room. The walls are littered in band posters and photos of me with friends and family. I smile slightly and go to study the pictures; one in particular. Me, aged 15 with my best friend, Ivan. I sigh and remove it from my wall, walk over to my bed and sit down cross-legged, the photo still in my hands. I continue to just stare at it and I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I do nothing to stop them. I have no reason to hide my tears in here, there’s no-one to hide them from. I close my eyes and let the tears fall, the photo of me and Ivan still held tightly in my hands. I think back to when this photo was taken. It seems so long ago now…

“Jess, Ivan! What are you two doing now?” My mum shouts from the doorway, a laugh escaping her lips just moments later. We turn to her and grin.

“Ivan was chasing me around with a water-gun, and it’s not fair. I don’t have any weapons!” I shout back and pout at her, then at Ivan. Ivan grins at me in a cheeky manner and I hit him on the arm lightly.

“What was that for? That hurt!” He whines jokingly, and I grin at him. “You have a water-gun, and my weapon is my hands! Deal with it, bitch.” He pouts and squirts me with water. I squeal and hit him again, a little harder this time - but still not hard enough to hurt him.

He looks at me and I notice the evil glint in his eyes and he drops his water-gun to the floor and runs at me. I stare at him wide-eyed at him, and I then realise what he’s doing. I squeal and turn to run away from him. But he’s faster, he catches me and tackles me to the ground - into the sand-pit, to be more specific. He grabs my waist and turns me over so I can see his face as he grins at me. I laugh loudly as his hands wriggle in the action of tickling me. I squeal whilst laughing and try to push him off.

“Ivan! Stop it! Please, I give in! Iva-n!” I squeal with laughter, dragging out the ‘a’ in his name. But, before he can stop, we both get blinded by the flash of my mum’s camera just a few metres from our faces. We both groan in defeat and he stops tickling me, flopping down on the sand next to me, both of us still laughing like idiots.

I open my eyes from the memory and stare at the picture again, realising how much I really do miss my best friend. I put the picture down next to me on my bed and bring the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands and wipe the tears from my face. It’s then that I notice the body in the doorway.

“You miss him, don’t you honey?” I hear my mother’s soft voice speak and I nod lightly, placing my head in my hands as I begin to sob. She walks into the room, and I feel the weight of the bed shift under me as she sits next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her as I cry for the first time since I lost my best friend.

As my sobs slowly die down, my mum rubs soothing circles into my back and I lift my head from my hands, wiping my face once again of tears. She smiles sympathetically at me and rubs my arm whilst squeezing me gently into her side. I rest my head on her shoulder and sigh, “Who’s coming round today, mum?” She smiles down at me and wraps her other arm around me in a hug.

“You’ll find out when they get here, sweetie.” She smiles at me, “Now, get dressed and freshen up. I’ll make you some hot choccy. Don’t be long, Jessy.” I lift my head from her shoulder and smile, nodding in agreement She stands up, straightens out her t-shirt and exits my room after ruffling my hair - earning a small groan of protest from me.

I really do love my mum, I don’t know what I’d do without her.