Ward of the state

Martin Hannah

The smell of the polished linoleum a foot from my nose, hanging my head over the side of the bed, soaking in the room, eyes wide my head upside down, the pressure of blood puffing my face. My stuff's packed into a small box under my bed, I touch it to see if its real. The shadows from the trees outside ebb and flow over the floor and the other seven beds. Their occupants sleeping, I feel like the only person in the world who's awake, how could I sleep? Saturday tomorrow, will I look different?

When I go to school on Monday will a girl look at me and think, I can have him, I always wanted to go with him but my Mum and Dad wouldn't have like it, but now it's okay. When I get home will there be a surprise party! The thick cotton pyjama trousers held firmly in place with white rope cord curl close as my legs run flailing under the covers with excitement. ... (continues)