London Girls

Subject: London Girls Tue Jan 13, 2009 8:47 pm

I’m Lucinda.

I’m.. Scared. Again.

Its night. Past midnight. Its so early in the morning, about 1AM. I’m in bed in the dark, with my little sister, 'daddies princess' Lysanne. But we both can’t get to sleep, we're too scared. Scared because we'll know he'll be back soon.

I’m 15, and my sister is 14. Our mum disappeared some night, never saying goodbye. Dad said that she died, "The filthy bitch." He scoffed, before screaming and spitting at me for even asking what happened to her. He kicked me, as well, and I was about 6 then. I thought it was normal for your dad to punch and kick you, scream and shriek at you in rage, face all red and spit flying out of his angry mouth.

My sister never gets hurt. She gets the normal smack but that’s it. Its because she’s younger, and she is quieter than me. She is too shy and scared to stand up to dad, unlike me. She still has a pink blanket or `blanky Mum gave it to her, dad said. He once tried to take it off of her, and pulled her thumb from her mouth so hard her thumb started to bleed. But I punched dad in the face after that, and then, before he could punch me back, I ran upstairs and locked the door, pulling Lysanne in with me. That was today. I’m still in bed, the clock ticking. I can’t take this suffering anymore. I think and think, on what to do, when the idea hits me. I'll have to run away. I'll have to. Dad is major rich but never spends the money, mostly because he’s too drunk to work our how to count the notes. We could take the money. We could pack, get a taxi, go off somewhere. Go to a major swanky hotel in London, the capital of FASHION! I’m so suddenly exited. We could buy designer clothes! Start up our own business, and be as famous as my idol. Coco. Coco is a model, she isn’t that famous but I think she’s amazing. She’s the same age as me, and its hard to Believe someone like me could get that far. ,My mind turns back to London. London. London. London. Its going off and on my mind like an alarm clock, I check the time. Dad will be home soon. A pang of fright hits me. "Lysanne." I whisper, shaking my sister. "Huh.." She’s groggy from sleep. "Pack up, I’m moving." My useless father is giving me bruises and they sting so much. I can barely move my arm. The sting of his awful voice, the smell of his booze on his face and breath, the sweat on his face, and the way he spits when he screams at me. Lysanne is more lucky. But she still gets hit.

“You stupid little pests! Move out the way!” My dad would usually say, ciggie in his hand as he swats Lysanne, smacking her face and kicking me hard.

I struggle not to cry.

“I’m goin’ out for my daily drink, kiddies. Be back at 12pm.” He says, smashing the door shut.

“Lysanne. This is the final straw.” I say, reminded of the situation, gesturing with my hands.

Lysanne bites her perfect nails and nods timidly.

“I’m leaving.” I announce.

“What?” Lysanne said.

“Pack. Now. I’m leaving.” I say.

“No.” Lysanne says. I look at her and sigh.

I twisted round smartly, clicking numbers and open a small door.

“What are you doing?” Lysanne says.

“Dad’s safe.” I smirk.

“How did you find out?” She says, gawping at me.

“He is a doofus.” I smile

“He says all his numbers out loud.” I add.

“It’s 10pm. He’ll be back soon. I’ll pack.” I say, taking 5 cheques that all said £5,000 on them.

“Don’t say anything.” I say

She nods.

Lysanne is dads “Princess.”

Phone.
My teddy from when I was 7. I’m 15 now. Lysanne is 14.
Nail varnish set
Eye shadow set
Eye liner set
Blusher set
Lipstick and lip-gloss set.
My best embroided jeans, dark blue skinny jeans [4 pairs] light blue skinny jeans and black [ 2 pairs of each]
Black skirt, red miniskirt, blue skirt and white skirt and cream. [1 of each].
Purple, Black, White, Red, Navy, Midnight purple, Blue, and cream leggings [ 1 of each ].
Long legging tops, 2 of each colour of the leggings.
Normal tops, Pineapple etc. [ 4 Pineapple tops, 2 tops that have a star and cloud on, 4 cute tight tops, a loose top (Dad brought it. It was a footballers top). A Rainbow top. A top with a quote on, and a John Lennon top].
Planner
Address book
4 diaries.
A iPod.
Perfume
High heels, fake UGG boots, flat shoes, converses, gladiator shoes and my best sandals.
Scarf
4 pairs of coats.
Wash bag and wash kit.

Ok. This is DEFINITELY ENOUGH

It’s almost midnight. I hear people come back from the pub. It’s not dad. It’s 10 minutes ‘till the pub closes and I run up the hall by myself, sighing. We bump into someone.

“Coco!” I smile.

Coco is known around our block of flats. She is a infamous model, but I still love her.

“Hey Kiddo. Running away? What a coincidence. So am I. My mum is mental.” She says.

“London?” We say and nod.

“We might be going to france, though. And take a boat.” I say. Coco gawps.

“No way! Me too.” She smirks.

“We can split the hotel money, Yeah?” I smile.

“Where’s Ly?” Coco says

“Inside.” I say.

I sigh.

I’m not stopping. Coco and I ran, dodging everyone. I think I saw dad. He was swaying, drunk.

“Where do you think you’re going, idiot?” He says, trying to punch my face. Coco cleverly pushes him over and we scream our voice boxes out for a slow-coach taxi. It finally arrives and we jump in.

“To covent garden, please.” I plead, looking at the cheques.

“I’ll Pay.” Coco smiled. She had enough for a taxi, but also had to exchange notes. I smile at her and also repay Coco back, by exchanging money near a station and then paying for tickets and food.

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