BSP
Short Story Competition
‘’Come back early. Today’s dinner is your favori-
te, pasta.’’
Mum always said that as I went outside the house,
her voice sweet and gentle as if she was talking
to a newborn. Most people might say that it was
the sweetest person in the world, as she cooked
delicious food and was always there for her chil-
dren. But if you knew her well, you might notice
that she is always lying – mum doesn’t know how
to cook, I do. Also, she was never home, she went
with her friend to a party somewhere as if she was
a sixteen-year-old. Maybe that’s why I’m the one
in charge of everything that happens in our hou-
se, from cooking dinner every night to taking care
of Leo, my three-year-old brother.
Mum is a liar, anyways.
I walked calmly on my way back home that ni-
ght. It was already quarter past ten, and it was
snowing heavily, just like in those depressing mo-
vies my friends watch, were the protagonist just
broke with her boyfriend and so on. I used to love
snow some years ago, but when I almost froze to
death two years ago, things changed a lot. It was
Christmas Eve, and I was supposed to be home al-
ready next to my family – if you can call it that way
–, but I wasn’t.
My phone was off in my red hoodie’s front poc-
ket, so mum couldn’t call me or localize me if she
wanted to. I didn’t want to see her anyways, and
I’m sure she didn’t want to either. The streets tur-
ned into a foggy forest as I approached to my last
destiny: my house was at the other end of the fo-
rest, almost a mile away. Maybe it would be faster
if I took a cab, but I had forgotten my money at
school, so it was time for me to do some exercise.
Trees began to cover the whole place as I walked
slowly, enjoying the view. Dad once had taken me
camping to a similar forest, but it was summer in
that time and we weren’t in London, but in Uni-
ted States. He was American, but as he passed
away when I was five, I had a British accent just
like mum for I lived with her my whole live. Bushes
kept on covering the floor as I kept on going on
and, suddenly, the road wasn’t there anymore.
‘’What? ’’ I asked myself in a low voice. Last time
I went that way, which was about three days be-
fore that, the road was clear. What on Earth had
happened?
Shaking my head, I kept on going. Relax, I thou-
ght, you are just being paranoiac. I walked over
the bushes, trying not to trip and fall, but the light
was so dim that I could barely see my own hands.
The fog was getting closer to me, surrounding my
body with a cold breeze as I shivered. Now I was
really getting on my nerves, but I kept walking; or
at least I did until a rose bush came by and I ste-
pped on it.
The roses’ spikes ripped some of my jean’s fabric
and got into my skin. I screamed in pain and fell
on my knees, which also got spikes on them,
trying to get away. I managed to do so, but my
knees and legs started bleeding because of the
spikes. It hurt, it hurt so much that maybe I could
have cried, but I didn’t. I had to be strong, just like
my father had told me to be; with that though on
mind I walked to a tree.
I sat under the tree and shivered because of the
cold. I couldn’t see my legs, just my hands. The fog
kept on getting closer to me and the pain kept on
getting bigger. Then I remembered: I still had my
phone with myself.
I took it and turned it on as fast as I could. The little
apple appeared in the screen some seconds later.
Things are going to be fine, I thought, mum will
come for you and…
Wait. Was she really going to come for me?
My phone finally turned on, but my mind was so-
mewhere else. I frowned and placed it inside my
pocket roughly as I stood up again. For about five
seconds, everything was alright; then I fell again.