Chapter One
Being alone is like being wrapped up as
a present,
Wrapped up in your own world,
Never to be opened.
When all you can see is thunderstorms,
The sense that nobody else is there seeps in
to your body, and finds a way to let you down.
The wrapping paper is gathering dust.
When the sun in your heart is shining,
You sit down,
Grab a book,
And wait for someone to come.
And they always do.
The wrapping paper is being torn open,
And uncovering the present inside.
You.
I slam my poetry book down on the bed. That
was one of the best poems I had ever written, but of course it is not about me.
When I am alone, nobody comes; I am by myself for ages.
My name is Milly River. I have 3 brothers and
3 sisters all squashed in one tiny house. My bedroom is a cupboard. I sit in
there for hours and hours, writing poems. It is how I keep my life together,
sitting down on my bed, thinking of poems. A bit like waiting to die.
Chapter Two
Sitting in the old wooden rocking chair,
People expect the old lady to be knitting,
Just like they always do
But no
She is just waiting to die.
As she waits, memories of her childhood flash
back to her,
Eating ice blocks with her friends,
Playing in the lake on days that were too hot.
Happy days.
She takes one last breath with a smile on her
face.
She no longer waits to die.
See, I write poems all the time. It calms me down from what is going on around
me. It puts me in a different
world. I love it.
Chapter Three
“Milly, are you ready?” My Mum, Katie, shouted up the towering
stairs.
“Nearly, Mum! I just need my poetry book!” I
called back.
“Forget that stupid poetry book, all you do is
scribble dumb words in it.” I could hear
Liam all the way from the moving truck.
He was the oldest of my three brothers, always moaning about his hair,
thinking he was a fashion model. It
flopped across his face, and kept on getting in his eyes.
“I just need to find my poetry book!” I yelled
again.
Frantically I threw my pillow up in the air,
looking for the familiar leaf-green cover.
“Found it!” I suddenly cried out. I slipped down the stairs, clutching my book
and pillow as I went, jumping into the back of the moving van. We were off.
Chapter Four
We were moving. I hated leaving my best friend Eliza behind,
and the park. The beautiful park with
dancing butterflies and long green grass.
I visited there every day. There
were heaps of poems to write. I had a
book full of poems about one tiny tree there.
That tree held so many words. But
now, we were moving to Wellington. I sat
squashed in the back of the moving van, cramped between an old chair and
Louise’s giant pink suitcase, filled with all her clothes. Louise was probably my most fashionable
sister. Every Sunday she was out with
all her friends, shopping for the latest clothes.
The huge van rumbled noisily along the gravel
and the bags and furniture started tumbling onto me. I tucked as a bright pink hairbrush flew across
to where my head had just been. I
shivered. It was dangerous back
here. I wished I was in the front, with
Mum, Kirsty, Louise and Liam. Lizzie had
a driver’s license, so she, Charles and James were seated in her car.
As the youngest of the family, I was chosen to
sit between boxes of food and giant pink suitcases in the back. I was ok with that, but there was one thing I
didn’t want to do. Move.
Chapter Five
Little shadow,
Creeping.
Little shadow hiding behind bins,
Threading itself in and out of the long line
of them.
Stops,
Out of reach of human eyes.
Then bounds away, quick as a wink.
We’ve stopped in Taupo. There is a little dog I’ve seen scampering
around these streets. A scruffy little
animal with one golden ear, the rest of his body is covered in coal black
dirt. Yesterday I saw him outside a
dairy, looking eagerly inside. He must
be pretty hungry I would think.
“Screeeeech!”
Our moving van stopped to a halt outside Jane’s café. I could hear Mum talking to Kirsty about
whether they should go in or not. Kirsty is my favourite person in the family,
she sticks up for me and doesn’t tease me about my poems. The rest of my family do the opposite of
that.
There was a creaking noise, and the back door
of the moving truck opened. Kirsty was
standing there, her hair looking all sparkly in the sunshine. I hadn’t realised it was so sunny. The van didn’t have any windows in the back.
“Come on sweetheart, we’re going to Jane’s
café” Kirsty said softly.
“Was it alright in the back?”
I nodded. “It was ok, I guess”.
We stepped onto the hard concrete, hunger
gnawing at me. My legs felt sore and
dizzy, since I hadn’t been using them for ages.
We entered the café and I saw Mum, Liam and Louise already sitting at a
table, Mum trying to master her cup of tea.
This is an absolutely disgusting drink!” she
spat out, ignoring the fact that the person who made it was right next to
her. The waitress put down a big ham,
cheese and lettuce sandwich next to Liam, and he almost instantly gobbled it
up.
“Milly, would you like a cookie or muffin?”
Mum asked.
“A cookie, please!” I answered.
“Kirsty go and get a cookie and something for
yourself” Mum looked at the cabinet full
of food. “And nothing else!” she added.
While Kirsty went to get the food, I asked Mum
if I could go to the toilet.
“There’s one across the road!” she snapped and
went back to her magazine. I raced out
of the café and to the crossing. That’s
when I saw him. The little dog running
onto the road, straight into the line of cars.
I didn’t know what came over me.
I hurled myself onto the road, grabbing the dog and threw him onto the
sidewalk. Everything became a blur - the
cars screeching to a halt, Kirsty shouting out something - and me. Me, as still as a whisper.
Chapter Six
I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was James, his eyes
were red and he was holding my hand.
Then there was Mum behind him.
And Liam. And Louise. In fact, everyone in my family was there. Apart from Kirsty.
“Wh-where’s Kirsty?” I asked. My voice felt hot and croaky.
“Next to you”, Louise whispered.
I turned my face to the side, and gasped. There was Kirsty, a pale figure tucked up to
her chin in sheets.
“Kirsty?”
“Milly?” Kirsty answered with a faint smile on
her face.
“Oh Kirsty, you’re ok?” I whispered.
“Kind of”, she said. Then closed her eyes.
Mum was on me.
“What the hell were you thinking running out
onto the road like that?” she fiercely spat at me.
“There was a dog…” I started but Mum
interrupted me.
“We thought you were dead, and we had to spend
$5.00 on the flowers!” she pointed to some roses on a little table. Typical Mum.
You would think she liked money more than her own kids! I was about to argue with her when I saw one
of those animal cages that you get at the SPCA in Charles’ hand. Half of it was covered in a small grey
blanket, so I couldn’t see inside.
“What’s in there?” I asked.
“You can see, when you come out of hospital”,
Lizzie said.
“When’s that?” I asked.
Mum sighed.
“Unfortunately tomorrow. I’ll have another kid to look after again,
she said sadly. I felt a bit angry at
her, but again, she always says stuff like that. Ever since my Dad died.
Chapter Seven
History can repeat,
History, like a car accident.
History, like my Dad’s death.
History like a car,
Travelling too fast to stop.
History like a squeal of brakes,
Brakes that don’t work.
History like a man lying on the road,
Still -
Too still.
The man on the road was my Dad. He was going
to the dairy for milk. One road to cross, one road he failed to cross. A shiny
red Ferrari, but an old one. It was speeding down the road - knocking my Dad
off his feet, under the tyres.
---
Mum was probably super scared when she saw me
on the road. Of course I didn’t mean to frighten her, but that poor little
dog. He would have got run over! I didn’t stay long in hospital. I had only fainted when I saw the car and
then a tyre knocked the side of my head, making me unconscious. So I was let out of hospital and now I’m here
in a little bach we rented. Why would we
continue on our journey? Kirsty wasn’t
with us and I was not ready to go without her.
Turns out that when I was on the road, she ran
out to help me. She pushed me out of the
traffic, putting herself in the danger!
The car had run over her arm.
That’s why she was in hospital.
And I felt like it was all my fault.
Now we are stuck in this tiny bach.
So tiny that some of us have to sleep in a tent on the lawn.
I am lying in a tent away from the
others. There is nobody else to talk to,
and I really miss Kirsty. The tent is
hot and stuffy. I open the door to let
some more fresh air in. The lawn
stretches across the landing outside. In
the middle is a big tree, perfect for climbing.
I let myself out of the tent and onto the long grass. I wander over to the tree and started to
climb. My arms wrap around the thick
branches. My feet search desperately for
a foot-hole. The slimy trunk made me
slip, giving me a hole in my tights, but I didn’t care.
Inside the tree was wonderful. Here I could forget all my worries. Finally, I reached the top. The wind whips my hair across my face. And I laugh.
For the first time in years, I really laugh. I felt funny in my throat, and I like
it. Laughing is wonderful.
Chapter Eight
Being in the tree is magical.
Just feel your hair blowing across your face,
And letting the wind take
Your worries.
I stayed dreaming in the tree for a little
longer, then came in when it was time for tea.
“Where have you been, Milly?” Charles asked
when I got to the table.
“In the garden”, I answered. “When will Kirsty be out of hospital?” No one said anything, so I took it that they
didn’t hear.
Chapter Nine
2 weeks later…
The girl was lost in the tree that night;
When the moon was full,
When the moreporks gave their mournful cries
To the secrets of the bush;
And when the bleak sky was
Covered in a starry blanket
That showed the girl her way.
Guess what! Great news. Kirsty is out of
hospital and we found a house in Taupo!
I am so happy that the inside of me is bubbling with excitement! The house that we found is gigantic, with
nine bedrooms. The house has a big back
yard, with pretty little flowers planted everywhere. My bedroom is very big, unlike my old one.
And Kirsty is here! (With a broken arm). It is not too bad, she says, and it doesn’t
hurt. I have showed her this book I am
writing in, and she says the poems are very good. So, I do not need to write in this book
anymore. I have found my place in this
world.
I also have that little dog I saw on the
road. He is very cute. I have taught him how to sit, roll over and
lie down. Mum has become a lot
nicer. I think this is because she has a
good job at the local DVD store and likes the people there. She says I can keep him as long as he doesn’t
run onto the road!
