The much anticipated long chapter, but I think it's a bit iffy.
CORRIES DIARY
Corrie's Diary
I had to get away. They won't understand. It's just something I had to do. I can picture them now; Aunt Claudette standing up near the bed, eyes wide with shock and her hand over her mouth, Dad with his head in his hands, sitting on the bed and asking himself, out loud, where he went wrong. Marge would be there too, standing in the doorway thinking about me, hoping I'm safe, but trying to make conversation with pathetic little jokes like "It could be worse, she could be raw meat." And Papa would have no clue about it at all. He'd be in Sydney, relaxing in the evening over a frothy cappuccino, lounging in his kitchen with the windows over looking Sydney Harbour, watching the sunset or the TV, with his wife painting her toe nails and talking about her latest botox injection.
Then there's me, who I don't need to picture because I can see myself in the side mirror of the white Holden ute I'm in. My red hair is a big frizzy mess. My eyelids are droopy. It's only 7.30, but I'm as tired as buggery. It's probably the nerves, the adrenalin rush. I've never run away before, and I'm scared of what might happen. What if the police see me and take me back to Melbourne? I don't want to go back to Melbourne. I'm going back to Adelaide.
Probably. That is, unless this sexist idiot doesn't get lost. We're on a highway, but still. This guy couldn't find the side of a barn from ten paces. He's a funny guy though. He's got a stubbly beard, like he hasn't shaved for two days. And he has short brown hair and dark tanned skin. He's a rural. He's got the classic workers singlet, khaki shorts and thongs combination. And he smells of an after-work beer. He seems a pretty decent bloke, even if he is a few stubbies short of a six pack. Sometimes he talks to me, mainly about my mum. He has a subtle way of doing so. Like, he will ask me questions and start conversations about her without me feeling the great pain of having lost her. It's been a couple of minutes since this conversation:
He said "So where'ya headed?"
And I said "Adelaide. Alberton probably."
He asked "You got family there?"
And I said "Not anymore. I'll probably just go stay with a friend."
"Not anymore? Why not?"
I said "My Dad, who lived in Para Hills, is in Melbourne. And my mum died the other day."
He asked "Then why were you in Melbourne?"
"Because that's where my Mum used to live, where her family wanted her to be buried. And my aunt wanted to take care of me. Adopt me, as it were."
"Oh. And you didn't like that."
I said "No." and shook my head.
"Why not?"
"I just can't stand my aunt. She's so difficult to live with. It's like she's stepped out of Buckingham palace and now she expects everything to be perfect. I'm not like that. I don't want anything to be perfect."
"She sounds like a bloody pain, alright."
"I know. She is."
And he asked "What about your dad?"
"I just can't be with him right now."
"Did he live with your mum?"
And I laughed and said "God no!"
"Whats so funny?"
I said "My mum and my dad were very different people."
And he just went "Oh"
Then we went quiet. It was getting dark outside, but I didn't mind. I found it added more adventure to my escape. The trees are looming like dark creepy people of hell, damned and trying to reach out for help. I can picture them groaning to us "Help, help!" But we just kept driving. I had the feeling my mum was amongst those trees of hell.
It was realy good, and even without the cliff hanger I still want to know what happens next. So put the next part on soon. See you. xD
Did I miss something?
