Don’t Believe Them - Leah Parker (inspirational novels .TXT) 📗

room and started jumping on her bed until she woke up. Are was grouchy because of her medication but she mad that year memorable. I opened my present and I got a fire engine. I played with it all day everyday, it was my favourite toy in the world.

Sadly I had to go to school today and Adalyn wasn’t her usual self. She was being mean to people. She called this junior a “hobbit” and “mouse” I couldn’t believe she’d say something like that to someone. It took me back to when I almost got killed and the feeling of being petrified came back. It felt as if it was happening again, I felt the fear going to my head. I started feeling dizzy and one of my favourite teachers, Mr Bracknell noticed something was up. I fell down some lockers not caring who’s it was. Mr Bracknell came jogging over to me, picked me up and carried me into his classroom. He placed me on his chair and I didn’t even know what was going on. My head was all over the place. He handed me my bottle of water and forced me to drink some. He kneeled down to my head height and placed his hand on my knee.

“Hey, Jesse-Ringo. What’s going on? Are you okay?” I tried focusing on his awesome jawline but I kept feeling like I was going to pass out there and then.

“Yeah. I think so.” I replied after half a second.

“What the heck happened out there?” Mr Bracknell said staring into my emerald green eyes.

“Adalyn was being mean to a gir-” I tried saying but Sir cut me off.

“I know that bit. I mean when you fell down” he clarified. I took a few deep breaths before I told him so I wouldn’t start crying like a little girl.

“In my old school, in Galway, this girl lied to her boyfriend about me saying I tried getting with her, or something, and he confronted me and pulled a knife out on me. Nobody cared and my mother had to contact my principal to expel them because he hated me and wouldn’t have done anything. That’s why we had to flea here.” A tear trickled down my smooth, freckled face and I quickly wiped it with my blazer before he could see that I was crying. “The flashback came to me.” Mr Bracknell looked at me with sympathy, he blinked extra slow but at the same time he looked furious. He stormed out of the classroom to pay phone outside on the wall. I didn’t know who he was calling but my heart rate increased rapidly. I heard him say “Ms O’Sullivan, I would like you to pick up Jesse from reception. He had a flashback from his old school and started panicking. I managed to calm him down though.” Great, he rang my mum.

At about 11:15 my mum turned up at the school. Swiftly, she walked in the reception area where I was and hugged me. I was so glad she came to my rescue, I couldn’t face this alone.

“Mum-” I said under my breath. I think she heard it because she said

“I know, baby. Come on, let’s go for lunch.” I looked across at her (we’re the same height, 5ft 4in) and nodded my head. I know it’s not cool for a 15 year old boy to cry and need his mum, but when they’ve been through what I’ve recently been through, you can’t help it. I got into the car and Mum looked at me and clutched my hand. My hands were stone cold and mum’s were like a radiator. Suddenly, I thought of something I’d been thinking of for a while. I wanted it out of my brain but I couldn’t get it out. I kept looking over to the house key. No, I didn’t want to break into my own home, you know what? Don’t worry.

For lunch, Mum made me a ham sandwich with a can of lemonade. I was very grateful and enjoyed every crumb. Mum has always been good at making sandwiches. Also toast and tea. Ooh, yummy. In my tea, Mum gives me one teaspoon of sugar and with toast, as soon as it comes out the toaster, she grabs it and smothers it with butter. Somehow she manages to make it perfect every time. Maybe it’s just mother’s.

It turned about half two and Mum took me to the ice cream parlour but after 20 minutes I stopped dead in the room and legged it out of there. I saw . . .

25/6- again

 

“RICKY!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I didn’t know what to do. He came running out after me and I was running so fast, my legs felt like they were going to give way. I kept looking back and saw Mum running after both of us. All of a sudden, Mum rugby tackled Ricky and sat on him so he couldn’t move. I stopped running and started heading back. I approached Ricky and he looked up at me in pain.

“Why are you here?” I asked, catching my breath. I gestured for my mother to get off of him. She held him back though.

“I want to say sorry. I’m not Eilis’ boyfriend anymore. She was a bad influence on me. I didn’t mean any harm, I promise.” I looked him up and down in disbelief. I shook my head. His eyes dropped down in sadness.

“Please, Jesse, please. I am sorry. I was such an eejit and I heard you lived here so I came to apologise.”

“Okay, so you threaten me and pull a knife out on me and you want me to forgive you? No. I’m sorry too, sorry I thought you were better.” I strolled off with my head held high and my arms folded. He was more than an eejit, he was a psychopath who needed detaining. Why should I forgive him? He hasn’t given me any excuse to forgive him- only that he’s sorry. But what does sorry mean? Does he know the real meaning? Nah, he’s not sorry. He should really say sorry to himself. Sorry that he was a nuisance to society. I sound really mean saying this, but everything he put me through, he deserved it.

It’s stupid, but I wasn’t born in Ireland. I was born in England, but moved to Galway when I was about ten. That’s why I only have a slight accent not a proper one. When I lived in Galway, I had so much fun. But now I live in Dublin and I’m having much more fun. When I first came to Ireland, I used to be picked on by some kid called Toby. I felt useless so one day he said to me “Yo mama so fat, she was arrested for carrying 10lb of crack” so I punched him. I’m not saying that violence is always the answer, but sometimes it is the last resort. Only use violence if it is the last resort, otherwise it will get you into trouble.

Being English in Ireland is funny because if you have a slight accent, like me, you can speak Irish to the Irish and they’ll think you’re Irish. Wow, a lot of Irish’s in one sentence. Mother always said that moving to a country like Ireland would be the best thing on earth, but at least in England we get some sunny days whereas in Ireland it’s raining all day, every day. Not fun!

I was speaking to grandma today and she heard it raining. She got pretty frightened but then she said the best thing to me “embrace the rain, it happens everyday.” That’s why she’s my hero. I really don’t want to go to school on Monday. I’m quite happy it’s Friday but when it’s Friday, you have two days then you’re back at school again. I can’t wait until the summer holidays.

I heard someone from my school talk on the phone. It was intriguing. Apparently there is a new kid joining my class. Hmm. . . Fascinating. They start on Monday. Maybe I’ll be sick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

28/6

Okay, so today the new kid joined. His name is Tucker Smythe and he’s from Wales. I don’t know why all the British kids come to live in Ireland. It’s confusing. My tutor sat him next to me and he was different to all the other kids. He had long hair and OCD. He aligned all my pencils, colour coded them and looked up at me and smiled. Huh? Why? I’m not hating on him because of his mentality, it’s just . . . Unique. I’d never seen a kid like him. I have to say, he’s good at singing. At break, I walked into the boys changing room for PE and I heard someone singing. He was singing one of my favourite songs of all time- Papa Don’t Preach by Madonna. He sung it perfectly. If I’m going to be honest, he almost made me cry.

He saw me and decided to come speak to me. He said,

“Hi there! I’m Tucker Smythe.” He put his hand forward for me to shake. I knew it was clean because, well, he has OCD. I shook his hand and he stared at me as if to say ‘TELL ME YOUR NAME!’. I blinked hard and allowed the words to come out.

“I’m Jesse O’Sullivan. Nice to meet you” I stuttered back.

“Likewise. You want to sing with me?” He randomly asked. I nodded and we sung Papa Don’t Preach together. He was surprised by my voice. It’s funny because he’s a soprano and I’m an alto so we matched. It was exhilarating!

When I got home, I noticed a picture of me and Mum on the wall. I stopped at just stared at it for a good five minutes until my mum strolled down the stairs with a towel round her head.

“Found it then?” Mum asked with a huge smile on her face. She placed the wet, cold hand on my shoulder and kissed me on the head. I looked up at her. She was doing so well! “I’ve not taken my medication today.” She assured me. Now, that was bad. She should be taking her meds everyday. It can kill her. I don’t want to be without my mum, she’s my world. The only thing I’m living for. I couldn’t help but to stare at the picture. It was mesmerising. I wanted my mum to be happy, but I didn’t want her to hurt herself from not taking he drugs. I’m in a really tough position.

It’s crazy, I cant sleep so I’m writing this. What would happen if my mum didn’t wake up tomorrow? What would I do? Where would I go? Mother has always been my best friend and I couldn’t imagine to live my life without her in it. My friends will help me through it, but I can’t live with my deadbeat dad as, well, I don’t remember him. I was only young. Right now, I feel so tired but in order to sleep I have to get all my feelings out to release the pressure in my thick mind. Every time I close my eyes, my mind casts back to when Ricky threatened me. It was horrifying. I think I might need some professional help. I need to see a counsellor or get brainwashed, either one will do the trick. I NEED THE PICTURE OUT OF MY HEAD! I can’t handle it anymore! I’ve had enough!

Wait a second, I just realised that I’m not very good at talking about my feelings, but writing them is helping a lot; I’m my own therapy. If you think about it, I get derided at school sometimes- for my haircut mostly- and I don’t care but in my old school, I wanted to constantly cry all the time. Maybe I’m doing well for myself.

29/6

I managed to get about a three hour sleep last night. It