I wake up bleary eyed and confused. My alarm on my phone is wailing fit to throw all my ornaments of my walls, so I grab it quickly as I head out the door to the bathroom. Once I am in the bathroom, I shower, and wash my hair. One thing about my hair, it takes forever to dry and comb out, hence me getting up at six in the morning to do so. I step shivering out of the shower, and pull on some clothes. Today is Studland day, where they take out a Year 8 class to visit these cliffs in Wales. It should be fun, if the sky was overcast and gloomy. I grab my backpack, and walk quietly downstairs, hoping that my step dad, Joe, won't be up yet. I am lucky, for once. I have enough time to grab a cereal bar and eat it before I hear his footsteps on the stairs.
I know when my step dad is coming because of how he walks. He kinda struts around the place, with these big heavy footfalls, heavier than my Mum. I look around for a place to hide, but don't see anywhere apart from under the table. I consider ducking under there, but if he sees me, then that would make things worse. I decide to stand my ground. He enters the kitchen and looks around blearily.
"Helen!" He yells, even though I am right next to him. "Toast. Now."
I nod, as he sits down at the table, I must have broken the record for toast making. I cut, put in the toaster, turn it up to full, grab it, and throw it on a plate, before running out the door.
"And it's Helena," I whisper to myself. He wasn't that bad though this morning. Usually I get a full lecture on being up to early, going to bed to late, and either talking back, or being too sullen. I think he drank too much last night, because he seems pretty downcast to not start his favourite subject, digging into me. I check my bag one more time before deciding to head out into the rain. I have just opened the door though when Joe appears around the corner.
"Helen!" He yells, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"School," I mutter, looking at my shoes.
"School?" His voice goes quiet, and he comes up so close I can smell his breath. "School starts at eight."
"I figured that out in Year 7."
"Don't be sarky Helen!" He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. "So, where are you going?"
"School!" I yell, and try to step out from his hand, but he squeezes my tighter. "Get off me!"
"Don't lie to me Helen!"
"Helena," I spit at him. He casually slaps me, whilst wiping the spit off his face. I try to slip out the door but he grabs my arm.
"Helen," He smiles, showing his yellow teeth, "I will ask you once, where are you going?"
"School." I mutter, "School trip, we have to leave early. Hence the fact I am in my jeans."
He grabs my cheeks and forces me to look into his eyes. I hold his gaze. Finally he pushes me towards the door. "You better not be trying to run away again. The police have a track record for people like you."
I just slam the door shut, and run down the street.
I did lie to Joe, we don't have to be at school early, but since I have an opportunity, I may as well take it. As soon as I am round the corner I head towards the bus shelters, and sit on the gratified bench. Rain starts to fall out of the sky, and I wish I'd brought my coat. I pull my hood over my hair, and look out at the brewing storm. My face aches from where Joe slapped me. I pull my hands in my sleeves and cross my arms. A bus comes, but I don't get on it – it's not my bus. It waits at the bus stop for awhile though, so I make a show of looking away. As I do this though, my eyes fix on a large dark shape standing in the distance – watching me. Unnerved, I look away, and get on the bus.
An hour later and I am on the school bus, ready to set off for Studland. The atmosphere is high, everyone chatting and laughing and swapping stories and songs. Apart from me. I am just Helena, the dyslexic, ADHD, uncoordinated weirdo who nobody wants to sit next to. I cross my arms and look at the rain drops on the window. The weather sucks, and I can't understand why everybody is so keen to get there. Already I can feel my hands twitching. I hate sitting still, especially for an hour and a half bus ride. I try to take my mind of it by focusing on the pedestrians as we pull away. One group catch my attention. They are all women, in their fifties or something, and strangely stooped. They all look right at me, and the woman in the front smiles, like an animal that has spotted its prey. She turns to the others, and I catch sight of two large, motheaten, wings unfurling. The bus picks up speed and they are gone, leaving me alone with a growing sense of unnease.
