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Creative Writing - Joey.

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G.C.S.E Creative Writing Joey The cold, wet spray of the river Thames hit 'that weirdo's' dirty, partially covered face. Joey had been regarded as 'that weirdo' or 'freak' from a very early age. This was because of her left eye. Her eyelid permanently half-shut and only revealing the dark almost hollow glint of what was inside. She had been given a sheltered childhood, a fussy mother and a father old enough to be her Granddad. When she was younger, she had always been smartly dressed and clean and on appearance, quite happy. But beneath the fragile surface lay an undercurrent of anger and hatred for all people. She had few friends. She never fitted in and her mother forcing her to did not help in the slightest way. Her father did not care about her at all. She always felt in the way. Never relaxed. At the age of about 12, her clothes also reflected this; old jeans that were too baggy and just a little too short, and trainers that looked as if they had never been washed. An old jumper that was full of holes and smelt of cigarette smoke that her mother had breathed on her kept her warm. ...read more.


One day in mid-autumn, that could have been any other day in her pathetic existence, dragging her exhausted feet along the path she reached into a bin and got out a piece of left over pizza. Gorging the pizza, she watched onlookers looking at her in disgust. Their faces resembled that of a jury at a witch-hunt condemning an innocent girl. She was accustomed to the stares. Out of the bin she fished out a packet of crisps, half eaten and very soft. As she continued to eat she noticed one man in particular staring at her. He was about 54 and looked as if he had never worked a day in his life but had been born with money. He wore a long camel coloured coat that still had the original creases in it. Underneath it was possible to see a grey suit with crisp white shirt and purple tie. He reeked of money. Slightly overweight and quite small for his age he waddled over to her and sat on a nearby bench. They were in the park, there were quite a few people around so she knew that she would be saved if she were attacked. ...read more.


Slowly he uncovered her face and he gazed into her eyes for a few seconds. She broke into a cold sweat and fainted. Entering a state of unconsciousness. The man started to panic and he scanned his eyes over the girl. She awoke and let out a big sigh. When she turned back...he was gone. No man, just herself and her empty stomach crying out to be fed. She felt a brush of cold air over her body and fainted. Entering a state of unconsciousness that was so deep, she could feel pressure flowing over her entire body. This was not a good thing to do when living on the streets. An hour passed by before she awoke again. The air had grown colder and the doorway she was sleeping on had somehow become harder. Pulling herself from the floor she dragged her rattling bones to the nearby park and reached an unoccupied bench. She laid her head down and from sheer exhaustion fell asleep. Within the next few hours she slipped away. Dead. Stone cold. Never to be burdened with the weight of loneliness and hunger again. Dead at the age of nineteen. What a waste. Laura-Jayne Barker 10C ...read more.

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