Silent Loathing
"So this part is yours," she said looking at me blankly, showing no emotion, giving nothing away, "And this part is mine." "It's ok, I don't bite!" "Good to know." she replied drily. Call me paranoid but there was some thing in her voice that I just didn't get. As if she really hated me. She was the girl who had called me an idiot before she even met me. A blue-haired chav, she was every thing that abhored, yet I couldn't bring myself to hate her.
"SERINA! Dinner's ready!" I wheeled downstairs (with the help of Electra the chav as there were no ramps). The person who had shouted out my name was a Caribbean lady called Gina who dressed in a vibrant kimono. I examined my suroundings and then heard an irriating buzz in my ear. "What's your name?" "Why are you here?" "Who old are you?" the ebony haired boy, who was holding an equally dark notepad and a red pen. I knew how to deal with people like this, interrorgators who have an irksome wanting for the truth. "Firstly, my name is Serina, not Serena as in Serena Williams, but S-E-R-I-N-A. Secondly, I am here because some people, (I turned to look at Mike, Gina and some other stroppy lady with black-shoulderlength hair) think that some one who has looked after you for the last two years of your life is not ideal to look after you and you should be placed with complete and utter strangers!" I regained my compusure even though I could feel my cheeks faring up even thought no-one could see it because of my skin colour, and for that I was grateful. "And finally, I am 13 years and 11 months." And with that I wheeled out. "Well I think we know what Little Miss Princess thinks of us." remarked Electra.
Then I realised the emotion her voice was like before. And I realised what it was. Loathing.
Silent loathing.
