The Spillage.

Faisal Hussein. 10SM/10P.

The Spillage.

Mother and Father were so excited. The brilliant new beige carpet in the living room was the highlight of the room which had just been decorated. I didn’t think much of it, and if the truth be told I hated It because I wanted a green, football pitch colour carpet. I didn’t hide this either. Mother and Father knew exactly how I felt about it, but I thought if they were happy then so be it.

Alan, my best friend, had arranged for us to meet at the park on Saturday. I was really looking forward to it. We usually challenged each other as to who could go the highest on the swings. Alan usually won but that never stopped us from having fun. Just as I was getting my shoes on ready to go to the park, it started to rain. I’d never heard thunder rumbling so much. It sounded as if the earth was about to open up and suck everything towards the core. I thought great, ‘there goes my fun for the day.’ Mother and Father were both out shopping. They tell me not to open the door to anyone or to pick the phone up. I didn’t understand why but I still obeyed their rules. I was really upset that I couldn’t go to the park so I just ended up moping around the house. Suddenly the door bell rang. I paused. I was curious to see who it was. I couldn’t resist. I peeked through the window. It was Alan. I ran to the door and let him in. His Mother had dropped him off.

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I was relieved as now I had something to do. At first we just watched TV but there was nothing good on. Just programs with real people, no cartoons. As it was raining outside we couldn’t think of anything to do. Other than playing on the swings, our favourite thing was playing football. We could play for hours on end and never get tired. We lived for football. I supported Manchester United and pretended to be Eric Cantona, whilst Alan, who supported Arsenal, pretended to be Ian Wright. We heard the football results on the TV. That is when the idea hit me. We could play football inside. I had a little foam ball the size of a baby’s head. It was what seemed like a perfect idea. No risk of breakage. We started passing the ball around in the living room before we got a bit tired. I poured Alan and myself a glass of Cola each. I finished mine but Alan said he’d finish his in a minute. He left it on the table and we carried on playing. This time we thought we’d take turns at taking penalties at each other. The table was one post and the wall was the other. Alan went first and scored. I stepped up second. I thought I’d place it into the top corner, between the table and the shelf. I took my run up and blasted the ball. As it was a light ball it swerved around in the air a bit. It looked on target for the top corner. It then twitched a little towards the left. The ball was now going to hit the post, the table. It was heading straight for the Cola. My world froze for a split second. The ball hit the glass and in what seemed like slow motion at the time, the Cola splashed all over the new carpet. My first thought was that I, Eric Cantona, had let Manchester United down but then I realised what affect the Cola was causing. It had started to spread further and further away from the glass and was sinking into the carpet like oil into the sea. It looked thick and very viscous, just how oil looks when mixed with water.

Alan, unaware of the importance of the new carpet, just carried on as if nothing had happened. I thought Mother and Father wouldn’t mind and everything would be o.k.

I heard the front door and felt relieved as I thought Mother and Father could clean the carpet up and everything could be fine again. I went to the door and Mother gave me a big, wet kiss, as she always does. I didn’t say anything about what happened. I just went into the living room. Mother followed me and at first didn’t notice the spillage. The first thing she saw was Alan. She greeted him as she always did. She then turned around and saw the stain. Before I could say anything she screamed. Father, who was getting the shopping out of the car, rushed in to see what all of the commotion was about.

He saw it and immediately looked at me. He was as red as a tomato.

‘What the hell have you done?’ he roared.

‘You spiteful little child!’ Mother shouted.

‘B…Bu……B……But,’ I stammered.

‘We know you don’t like the new carpet, but to go this far,’ Mother sighed in disbelief.

‘Go to your room. We’ll arrange for Alan’s Mother to come and collect him. You should be ashamed of yourself,’ Father said in a disheartened voice.

I didn’t even say goodbye to Alan. I just ran straight to my room crying my heart out. I couldn’t believe they thought I would do such an evil thing. I felt so empty. Nobody gave me a chance to tell them what had really happened. They just assumed the worst and I couldn’t get a word in edgeways.

It was late evening and I was feeling really hungry. I heard the floorboards outside my room creaking. I felt relieved. I thought finally Mother and Father had seen what had happened as an accident. Mother slowly opened the door. The landing light was switched off so I could only see her shadow but I knew it was her as I could make out her long hair and I could also see Father in the background but I could only see the side of his head as he was looking away. I the looked at Mother in sympathy. It was then when I realised that Mother and Father hadn’t changed their minds about what they thought had happened. Neither Mother nor Father looked at me once. They didn’t even spare as much as a glance. Mother walked out and shut the door. I heard Mother and Father muttering to each other quietly, as if they didn’t want me to hear.

They walked off and the footsteps became quieter and quieter until there was nothing.