Tick Tock… the hand had struck 12 at midnight as the scary tree gleamed on the ancient house. As the shadow struck the house , I couldn’t quite tell if the shadow was a tree or not which made the whole scene just a lot more intimidating. All round the house were frightening grave stones from years ago. Revolting spider webs were hanging off the cracked windows. On top of the house stood a dead pigeon and even though it was dead it still looked like it was staring at me, injecting fear deep into my heart.
As I woke up, I rubbed my eyes and trudged my way out of bed, eventually… I went and woke up my son, Tom. I had been looking after him ever since he was 1 year old and now he was 6. However, Tom had a strange issue… each day at midnight a tattoo would appear on his arm that read Mary A Smith. I had asked him several times whether he knew anything about this he replied “no” every time. Who was this lady?
Several hours later…
It was 9pm. I put Tom to sleep, switched on the TV and decided to relax for a bit. Meanwhile, an old lady with a headscarf and wooden stick walked towards the house door … she had almost reached the buzzer when I opened the door. It creaked loudly.
“Hello, do I know you?”
She replied “I am Mary A Smith, nice to meet you .”
I violently slammed the door and started to hit my hand on the wall. A tear rolled down my cheek as I realised what was going on. I sat down at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for her to go away. I watched the hands of the clock go tick tock and with every second I imagined this lady taking my son away because she was his natural mother.
I ran up the stairs quickly and into the basement where there was a big locked box which had been hidden with big black clothes. I ran around, frantically looking for the key of the box … but no luck. I took the axe from the emergency box, swung it over my head and broke the lock open.
Inside it there was a book and engraved on it was ‘Property of Mary A Smith’. No , No , No , NO! This wasn’t happening! I was not going to lose my son. I picked up the book, blew away all the bugs and dust on it and started reading the page.
Dear Diary ,
I should never have let him go…it’s the biggest mistake of my life. This morning I woke up as usual – no money, no food. All I had was my little Tom, nothing more , nothing less. I knew for a fact that if I left Tom for another 2 days without food he would die . What could I have done? I couldn’t afford the food. There was only one thing left to do – I had to leave Tom in front of someone’s door so he could grow up in a normal manner and most importantly survive.
I threw the book to wall and pulled every page out one by one. I knew what was going on; she had come back to get her son whom I had raised with my own bare hands. I was never, never , never going to give him away that easily.
Suddenly the light switch went off. It was pitch black. No torch. No help. I heard someone shut the basement door. I was trapped.
I pushed through all the cobwebs and managed to get to the door. I pushed it with all my strength but no luck – it was fully shut. I sat down in the corner of the room beside a cardboard box and pleaded with God to give me a glimmer of hope.
Two days had passed and I was fed up. I looked around for anything that was metal, and found a dusty crowbar under some old clothes. Springing into action I broke the door opened and headed downstairs.
I saw Tom and shouted “Tom ! Tom!” No reply. I gently pushed him on to his side, but he still didn’t reply. HAD I GONE CRAZY? I got a knife and pushed it through my chest but it just went straight through me.
Then I knew, I was dead.