Monday, 11 March 2013

315: You Don’t Fool Me

You don’t fool me, Emily Cheshire, I know it was you.  You might look oh so sweet with your strawberry blonde curls and cutsey pink velvet ribbons, but I know.  It doesn’t matter that nobody saw you do it or that I don’t have any proof yet, but you did it.

Until you came along nobody even worried about who was prettiest girl in class.  We liked ponies and kittens and skipping and cupcakes and netball and ankle socks and Eurovision and plaiting each other’s hair.  Now we have to think about what we wear each day and which bands we like and who we are going to be friends with.

Until you came along we went shopping with our Mums and we collected things.  We sang out loud and skipped in the street and ran fast until our cheeks were pink.  We had pet names for each other and they were all nice.  We weren’t embarrassed to be seen with our parents and we held hands with them across busy roads.  ‘Last year’ was just the time we had a different teacher.  We didn’t giggle, heads down and hurrying past, when we saw something that was ‘so...’

Until you came along we were friends with boys, even our own little brothers.  We wanted to be lawyers and doctors and teachers and train drivers and nobody wanted to be a celebrity.  Sometimes we teased one of the others, but only sometimes and never as mercilessly as now.

And when you came along, somehow you made my Dad leave our house and move into a flat with only a couch for sleeping over on.  And somehow, you made my Grandma die with her heart.  I don’t know how you did it all but I want you to go away, Emily Cheshire, because I like things how they used to be.

No comments:

Post a Comment