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Snowdrops. Glancing at the clock only made me feel worse half past eleven. Reece was usually home by ten. Sighing, still worried, I lay my head down on my pillow, just to rest my eyes for a few minutes

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Snowdrops When would Reece be back? I sat on my bed and daydreamed, all the good times we had had together flashing through my mind, filling me up with the sensation I was flying. I came back to earth with a thud. Glancing at the clock only made me feel worse - half past eleven. Reece was usually home by ten. Sighing, still worried, I lay my head down on my pillow, just to rest my eyes for a few minutes... And awoke with a jolt, to the rhythmic thudding of a heavy hand on the front door. For a split second, I held the thought that it could be Reece, complete with a totally reasonable, acceptable excuse, and he would hold me and everything would be alright again. That image vanished, when I realised Reece never knocked like that. Frozen with panic, I sat upright. The knocking continued. A sudden burst of courage took me totally unawares. Hurriedly, I pulled on my red dressing gown. Dashing down the stairs, I grabbed the keys to the door. Slowly, I advanced. With feline agility, I tip-toed to the door. With a shaky hand, I put the key in the key-hole. Deftly I turned the knob. Willing my suspicions to be erroneous, I peeped through the crack I had created between the door and the doorframe. ...read more.


I had a responsibility to the children, and I knew it was what Reece would have wanted. I had to teach the children. At six o'clock, as per usual, I arose and got dressed from head to toe in black. The colour of death, but also a symbol of authority. There was no sleepiness in my morning schedule, yet I was not fully awake. I got ready lifelessly, listlessly. Breakfast was missed - I fasted on - and set off early to avoid the mixed looks from the locals dotted around the village. It didn't work. As I walked through the centre of the village, I could feel the eyes upon my, burning through the headscarf I hid underneath. Quickly and determinedly, I headed up the small dirt track that lead to the school. The emptiness was still there, lurking threateningly at the back of my mind. Consciously pushing it even further back, I braced myself for the day ahead. Needless to say, that day wasn't my proudest as a teacher. As I walked into the classroom half an hour later than normal, the staring eyes of the na�ve children almost reduced me to tears a second time. A sympathetic look from the young blonde teacher did nothing to console me, but I stayed strong - for Reece, and for the children. ...read more.


'Thank you, Mrs Jones,' I replied with a nod, as I entered the classroom. It was quarter to twelve. Half an hour. I pulled out the big story book from the bookshelf, and called around all the children as I sat down with it. Normally, I would put my heart and soul into reading aloud to the children, but today they were completely preoccupied, so my voice was flat and monotonous. The children were disappointed, but I had too much on my mind to attempt to remedy their disillusionment. I glanced up at the clock every five minutes, as the big hand turned slowly around on the wall. My whole body was tense, my throat was dry, my voice rasping. At twelve fifteen, I slammed the book shut, stood up, and led the children briskly through the chill outside air, hand in hand, to the bottom of the school grounds, where the snowdrops grew. As I watched their amazed faces stare in astonishment at the little white specks of purity, I could not help but long to be a child again, youthful and kept away from the harsh realties of life. Then I heard the bittersweet funeral chant, deep, dark and hauntingly beautiful, and my hands clutched at the little white gate leading to the road. My eyes blurred over and I cried, cried for all the good times and the bad times, wept in longing and loneliness, knowing I was destined to live my life incomplete. ...read more.

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