Touch of Hope by Alison

This story is one of the August Writing Challenge entries chosen to be a featured story.

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Seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror…. Well, sod that…. So I smashed another – surely that would balance things out? 

I pushed all the glittering shards into the waste bin in the bathroom and threw some toilet tissue over the top and pushed it back into the corner of the room.

Two steps down the stairs, the guilt of someone maybe cutting themselves on my misfortune got the better of me, and I ran back up, grabbed the bin, and took the contents to the rubbish bin outside. I carefully covered the pieces again with the toilet tissue in some vain hope of stopping the bin men from cutting themselves. Luck was never on my side, though, so I didn’t hold up much hope for their safety.

I tripped on my slowly unravelling shoe lace and just caught my bag before the contents spilled out onto the floor. It’s always at that moment that a lone tampon that you couldn’t find when you needed it would come rolling out across the floor, only stopping when it hits your crush’s feet.

He looked at it. He looked at me. I looked at the floor and promptly went up in flames. Well, maybe not, but it sure as heck felt like it. This was not how he was meant to notice me.

I stumbled away. I said nothing, and I sure as heck did not pick up the lone tampon. It could stay there forever now for all I cared.

I flung my bag over my shoulder, pulling my hair back violently as I did. I tried to style it out but realised that to keep moving my head made me look like I was having some sort of fit. I went with the head down, staring at the floor, counting numbers repeatedly in my head and shuffling along fast…. I drifted off, straight into a lamp post, and yes, to make matters worse, I found myself mumbling an apology to it. I rolled my eyes at myself.

I had been out of bed for exactly 37 minutes and 25 seconds.

My name is Rosa. You have probably just learnt everything you ever need to know about me. I try to get through the day alive and as unhurt as possible. That is my only goal. I don’t bother with trying to have a really good day or anything like that – just surviving will do. Most of my jeans have at least 3 patches on them, even the ones bought for me just last week. It coincided with the time I thought it would be a great idea to try to learn to skateboard. Halfway into an ollie I lost it, and my jeans bore the brunt. So did my ears when my parents shouted at me, but all I could do was shrug.

I was used to me, but it didn’t mean I didn’t get frustrated. Like when my tampon hit Danny’s foot. Why could I not be cool, even for just 5 minutes? Could I not be given the opportunity to at least just nod my head and ask, “What’s up?” or smile. I’d go with a smile over a tampon at the foot any day.

I had tried not to have crushes. I just wasn’t the sort of person that other people liked like that. Danny came to school later in the year; he melted my heart in an instant. He saw me for the first time this morning. First impression of me would be Dolly Disaster. No one called me Rosa anymore. “Hey, Dolly!!!” and I fell for it. I looked up…. A wet, chewed up bit of paper hit me square between the eyes, and, yep you guessed it, Danny was watching…….. As the rest of the playground cracked up laughing, he just looked at me, really looked at me. He reached out and flicked the paper off my forehead and smiled, looking straight into my eyes. Instead of laughing, I think he may have even just winked at me. Maybe there was a touch of hope after all…… I smiled back just as a bird flew past and, yeah you guessed it…. spread its good luck all over me!

 

 

Alison
UK
22

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