Please bear in mind its the first draft, aka the dogs breakfast draft, but I'd just like some cc on it please!
I landed with a thump. There on the ground I groaned still wrapped in the warm blanket. Sometimes I wonder why I bother waking up. I scrambled for my clothes and chucked them on hastily before I trudged downstairs, the duvet trailing behind me.
My mum was humming to herself, chopping away at some sort of vegetable before she saw me.
''Goodmorning, sweetheart! I've got your shoes in the laundry, just washed''
I answered in a grunt, passing by her slowly as she flicked her hair about and brushed the dust off the bench. Mum was going to freak when she saw my room, still, I guess it wouldn't matter soon anyway.
I chuck the duvet on the dryer, knowing that I'd probably have another talk about 'a clean house is a healthy house'. What a joke. In most houses you'd get grounded for going out after curfew, throwing rocks at Mrs Thomsons window, but here you get grounded for leaving a sock on the couch. Dad, says mums just going through a phase, yeah right, a 20 year phase. I chucked my shoes on, checking around me before sliding a knife in the sole.
''Breakfast!'' Sang mum, as she placed a bowl of curry on the table. Oh yeah, and in this house the menu consists of two things, rice and curry. It's not mum though, its dad, he says that its tradition, personally I think it’s because mum hasn't bothered to learn anything else.
I sip the steaming warm cup of coffee, warming my hand on the hot mug. That's the best thing in our house. Mum has this kind of shifty coffee maker from India, makes a brilliant cuppa though.
I stare down at the monstorous bowl of muck. Is that bubbles? I make myself choke it down with a big swig of coffee.
''Oh India, look what you've done darling!'' exclaims my mum as she scrubs at my t-shirt viciously.
''Mum- really, it's fine-''
''No, no India I am not having you go to school like that, do you know what the mothers will think? It's one of the most reformed girls boarding schools in London!''
I choke at her words. I remember the day when I got accepted, when she held on to her excitement till we left the ground and burst with happiness, squeezing me to death. I shake the thought out of my head.
I sigh as she's finally satisfied the tiny dot is gone.
''Look, mum I'll be.. I'll be late for school''
''Have a good day Indie!''
I hated it when she called me that. Suddenly that pinch of guilt was gone, murdered by a cloud of anger. The reasons were coming back.
I give a tiny forced smile to my mum but she'd already gone off. I whip my head around for signs of people, the frosty air and smog are my only company.
Then I break into a run.