The sunlight spears through my shutters and onto my face. I turn in my bed and groan. I could hear the radio downstairs and the paced clash of plates into the cupboard. Mum's doing the dishes. I hear a thunder of thuds racing up the stairs. And something jumps onto my stomach, I wrench open my eyes to my dog, Coco, lying on my stomach, wagging her tail and giving me a 'hello!' look. She sneezes in my face and gives me a lick. "Alright! Alright! I'm up!" Coco leaps off my bed and scampers downstairs.
I shuffle into my bathroom. I splash some water on my face and throw on a hoodie. With a yawn, I head downstairs. "Morning." I mumble, Mum jumps. "Don't scare me like that!" she laughs. I shrug with a smile and walk over to the fridge. "Is there anything else?" I ask wearily, gazing onto the healthy food that lay before me. Sometimes, I wish my Mum wasn't such a health freak. At the moment, I was in the mood for Coco pops. I glance at the clock, it was 12, but that was normal for me on the Holidays. I close the fridge and go to the cupboard, I decide on two slices of bread and a packet of crisps, very nutritional.
I hear my phone ring upstairs. Mika blaring down the stairs. "Shit!" I swear. I shove some bread into my mouth and leg it upstairs, while Mum yells at me. I check under my covers, Mum seems to have given up, typical; I usually win these days now that I'm 15. It comes with the hormones. Mika continues to blare somewhere under the duvet, I find my phone eventually in my sock under my pillow. Only God knows how it got there. I put it to my ear and nearly choke on my 'breakfast.'
"Hello?" says a voice, it was Orla. I swallow the bread and take a few deep breaths. "Heather? Are you ok?" I grumble to say that I was eating. Orla gives a giggle. I sigh. "Sorry, I was choking on bread. What is it?" I sit down on my bed and look at my fingernails. Orla laughs. "Nice. I was just wondering if you wanted to do something today; by the way, sleepover. My house. Tonight." I fall back on my bed and Coco jumps beside me and begins to dig into my duvet. "Cool! Want to go to Cabo?" I scratch the dogs back while she continues to dig into my duvet. It usually takes Coco to realise that my bed is not dirt and she's not getting anywhere. Orla continues to rabbit on into my ear and I occasionally grunt in agreement. We settle on the idea that Orla meets me at my house. I hang up and roll onto my stomach, I face my wardrobe. Without moving from my bed, I open it and gaze inside. "What will I wear today?" I ask, and I give Coco a scratch behind her ears.
Orla calls and I'm still not changed. She helps me decide on a pair of jean shorts and a blue t-shirt with bubbles on it. I pull my hair back loosely and slip on some flip-flops. I could hear birds outside, and Coco barking randomly at them. "Come on, let's go." She says. I grab a bag and launch some, my phone, and some pads into it. "Ready?" asks Orla. I smile and nod. "Yeah, now I am!" We walk towards Cabo Park, (Cabo is short for Cabinteely and that's where we live.) The sun's a bright blinding ball in the sky and the heat is intense. We head deep into the woods and find a small field to sunbathe. I drop my things and sprawl myself on the grass. Orla comes down beside me.
"This is such a nice place." She sighs. "It's as if, nobody knows about it!" I laugh at the thought of our own 'secret' place. "What?" Moans Orla. I put my hands behind my head. "It's nothing." I say. Orla gives me a nudge. "Come on, tell me." She pleads. I shake my head and continue to gaze at the clouds; it was tough sometimes to be a year older than all my friends. I sometimes feel like they're so childish, but that's the price I had to pay to be in the school I was in now, I've been in Rathdown for a couple of years now, and I suppose it is better than the last dump I was in. "Just drop it, ok?" I say. "It's nothing." I say and I close my eyes. "You are such a meanie sometimes." Mopes Orla. We stay here, in the field, chatting about countless things. We are interrupted by something screaming. I leap to my feet and listen closely. Orla tries to say something, but I wave my hand to shush her. "It's coming from over there." I say and I point to the part of the woods that crossed the river. "Heather, that takes us out of the park, it's not our problem!" says Orla, I turn, her big brown eyes are full of fear, and she takes my hand. "C'mon let's go. I'm scared. Please." She begins to pull me away, and out of the field. I go with her in a trance, I guess, and the scream still ringing in my ears.