The news bulletin flashed onto the screen, once again. Up popped the picture of Shade Morgan, a tall fourteen year old boy, with short, black, greasy hair. It was the third time this week. Still missing.
His neck was thin and long, like a giraffes. He was extremely thin. He looked as if he never ate anything. I looked away and continued reading ‘The Beano’.
“I wonder where he is. Do you know him? He is about the same age as you, Demi,” mum asked me.“Hmm. What?” I replied.“I said do you know him?” mum repeated.“Who?” I asked.“Oh Demi, do try and pay attention! Shade Morgan, he’s in your year at school. Do you know him?” she asked me once again, sounding slightly irritated this time.
The news reporter spoke again.
The news reporter pointed to Hawkshead Park
It is not yet clear as to why Shade went missing, but his father is convinced that he would not runaway.
I couldn’t be bothered listening to the rest. I wonder why he has gone missing. He is fourteen, the same age as me and I’m quite capable of looking after myself. The police are looking for witnesses, but I can be of no help, as I was having my tea at the time he went missing.
The rain lashes against the windows, as I sit, hunched up in the corner of the living room in the famous Beatrix Potter’s house, eight miles from my home in Hawskhead. I sit, as if expecting something to happen. There is a strong wind outside blowing hard against the trees, making them creak. It is quite spooky. I wonder if anyone is looking for me yet. Probably not. I am just Shade Morgan, a boy hardly anyone knows exists. I have been gone for three days now, maybe dad will have noticed that I am not in the house. I doubt it. He never notices anything since mum left. He just sits in front of the box, watching the cricket, but there is no point. England are playing rubbish, but he doesn’t appear to pay that much attention. Oh well.
It’s freezing and dark outside, so it must be quite late. I curl up in my blanket and eventually fall asleep. “I’m going to bed mum,” I shout. “Night Demi,” she replies.
The rain has passed, but grey clouds still fill the sky. It’s about half past eight in the morning. It’s still the summer holidays, so nobody will be going to school.
My friend Sarah calls for me about midday wondering if I’d like to go down to the park. I accept the invitation and we walk at snails pace down the road. We don’t say much to begin with, it is Sarah who breaks the silence.
As Sarah swings I notice her long, auburn coloured hair, blow in the breeze. The freckles on her face are more noticeable than usual and her green eyes shine, but not in a pleasant way. I look more closely at Sarah and see that she is crying.
Mum and dad split up last year, when dad pinned her up against a wall for throwing out a watch that his dad had given him for his birthday, shortly before he passed away. Mum did not realise that this was the watch granddad had given him. Mum and dad had argued beforehand, mainly because dad was grieving over the loss of his father, anything seemed to set him off. Mum had not realised that the watch was special to dad, because it was an old one, which my granddad had worn when he was alive. Dad got very angry with her. Mum got scared so she left, without saying goodbye to me. I miss her, but she walked out one me, so I learn to live with it.
“Sarah, I’m sorry, I never meant to upset you. I just don’t want to talk about Shade Morgan just now,” I tell her, feeling slightly bad.“Don’t worry, it’s not you,” she says sniffling.“Then what?” I ask her.“Erm…” she says pausing slightly. “It’s Shade,” she answers blushing.I smile with relief. “Tell me,” I say.
Then I remember. “He was, you’re right. I forgot,” I tell her feeling slightly guilty that I had forgotten.“Shade loved reading. He was always talking about Beatrix Potter books,” I inform Sarah.Then it hit me like a ton of bricks!“I know where he is,” I say to her. “Come on!”
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