“Hello, who are you?”

The girl standing at the foot of my bed has a kind face.

“I’m Lynette. I’ve come to help you.”

“How can you help me” I sniff, “I’m stupid and wicked. I’ve hurt people that only wanted to help me.”

She shakes her head.

“You won’t hurt me. I know what it’s like for you - stuck here, full of remorse and regret. But there is a way out.”


“First tell me your story. That always helps.”

I shrug. “I don’t suppose it can do any harm now.”


It all started with my Dad leaving – which is weird because I never knew him. All I remember of him was the shouting. I used to hide behind the settee, hands over my ears until it passed. When he left I was about five and so mum and me, we moved in with my Gran and it was the three of us.

I loved my Gran – Granny Grapes I called her but I don’t know why. Anyway, we lived in a little terrace house near the mill where mum worked. The house had a big garden at the back where Gran and I grew vegetables – sweet orange carrots that grew into rude shapes that we giggled over, fat round cabbages, rows of peas and beans and best of all, beyond the veggies were the fruit bush...

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Sheila Williams
May 11 2020

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