Life – A Poem by Amelia Siggee – aged 12

Life

At some point in time

you may think there is no point to life

as if it is passing in a blink of an eye.

The only thing that’s

on your mind are echoes of hatred from others –

Although – your mother and father

believe that you are one of a kind. 💗

Amelia Siggee – Aged 12

Encouraging comments much appreciated.

Archived in: 🦋 Children’s Corner & 🦋 Teen Reading

Temptations in History

The teacher talked on and on about the Livonian War that lasted twenty five years back in the mid to late fifties of the seventeenth century. History could be boring. Mr Tirone was boring.

Finally, the bell rang and Todd snapped out of his trance.

‘Thank goodness that’s over.’ Trish groaned aloud when she caught up with him at the door.

Todd agreed. ‘Yeah, I didn’t think it would ever end. I thought history was going to be an easy class.’

‘How’s it going with the assignment?’

‘Don’t ask. I mean, where do I start?’

‘We could work on it together at my house tonight. My parents are both working the late shift and my kid sister is staying over at a friend’s house.’

Todd grinned. ‘OK. I’ll come over right after I do my Math homework. Now Math I can handle but I can’t afford to get behind on it.’

She gave him her best see-you-later smile as she entered her next class. Todd continued to the gym where the last forty minutes of the day would be a little more active.

It was just after seven when Trish open the front door to him. She was wearing a pretty pink top with a low cut neckline.

‘My parents will be home about nine so we only have a few hours.’

Todd force himself to look above her shoulders where he met her smile. ‘OK. My curfew is nine thirty so let’s get started.’

He followed Trish into the kitchen where her text books laid open on the dining table. His back pack slipped off his shoulder and he let it rest on an empty chair.

‘Drink?’

‘Thanks. Do you have juice? I’m not into soda stuff.’

‘Sure. Orange or apple?’

‘Apple please.’

After a few minutes of casual chitchat over the breakfast bar Trish leaned forward. ‘So, where do you want to do this?’

Her breath smelled of mint and her floral perfume tickled his nose. He cleared his throat and turned toward the table.

‘The table is fine.’ He picked up his back pack and opened the zip. ‘I just brought the main textbook and a note book. It’s great that you have offered to help. Maybe I just need to get started.’

Trish came close but didn’t sit so Todd did. Big mistake. He turned his head and placed his juice on the table to his right. He cleared his throat again. Trish walked around to the other side of the table and pulled out a chair.

‘Are you OK Todd? You seem nervous. I can assure you that no one else is here.’

Todd nodded and took another sip before he spoke again. ‘Let’s get on with this.’ He opened his text book to the Livonian War. ‘I really don’t see why we need to study stuff that happened in the seventeenth Century.’

‘I find it intriguing. I could listen to Tirone all day.’

Todd grimaced. ‘I take it that History is a favourite subject.’

‘No. I prefer Human Dynamics.’

Todd was confused. ‘What? Which one is that?’

Trish knee bumped his sending chills up his spine but she didn’t seem to notice.

‘Silly. I was joking. Now let’s open to page two-six-five.’

It was exactly nine when Todd looked at his watch. ‘I’d better go.’

Just then the back door opened and a man entered. ‘Hello there.’ He must have been six foot three at least.

‘Hello Daddy. This is Todd. We’re working on our History assignment.’

He looked from his daughter to Todd and back again. ‘Yeah right.’

Todd wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

‘Oh Daddy, don’t be so dramatic.’

Todd rose and stuffed his textbook and notes into his bag. ‘I was just leaving. Nice to meet you Sir. Thanks Trish. I really appreciate your help.’

Trish stayed where she was. It was then he noticed why. She held her text book close to her chest.

Todd left the kitchen with a nod and headed to the front door.

The following day while Todd was sitting in the History classroom early to jot down yesterday’s notes from the blackboard, Trish came in and stood behind him.

‘Thanks for a great night.’

He stopped writing and looked up. All he could think of was the moment she opened her front door.

A few sniggers followed by other students who had also entered the room.

Todd sucked in air. ‘We should do it again sometime.’

More sniggers.

Trish winked and moved to her usual seat.

What’s going on here?

Mr Tirone entered. ‘Open your textbooks to page two-six-five. Todd Hughes, what did you learn from yesterday’s “boring” class?’

Heat rose to Todd’s face. Good thing Trish helped me out last night. He turned to the requested page and answered the question.

‘I’m impressed’, Tirone stated. ‘And I thought you went to sleep.’

Laughter rose across the classroom and Todd felt Trish’s eyes on him. He dared a look and returned her smile.

I can handle this. She’s cute enough and knows her history.

Over the lunch break Todd sort out Trish to thank her for getting him out of an embarrassing situation.

‘Hello Todd.’ The voice was soft and warm.

‘Hello to you too.’ He smiled at Trish. She’s beautiful, even in her school uniform. ‘Thanks for last night. It came in handy today.

The girls who were sitting with Trish stood and left. He felt awkward. ‘We can talk later.’

‘That’s OK. They get it.’

Todd looked around. ‘Get what?’

‘You know. You me. Us.’

‘Us?’

‘Don’t you like me?’

‘Yes, but I thought we were just friends.’

‘Friends are cool I guess.’

Todd bit his lip. ‘You mean…all that last night?’ It felt like his stomach flipped and he found it hard to breathe. ‘What about your Dad?’

‘He’ll get over it. We’ll just have to be more careful.’

Todd didn’t answer.

‘We didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘No, we didn’t. We were just studying together.’ He thought about what he would say next. Yes, he liked Trish but he wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship. He had thought it would be nice to have a relationship with someone when he went on to university. He may have been ready for that. Now he wasn’t so sure. ‘Trish, where do you want this to go?’

She shrugged. ‘As far as you want.’

They were so close that he could look into her eyes. They were a pretty blue and her blonde curls kinked at her perfectly shaped eyebrows. He breathed in her scent and his nerve endings quivered.

‘I don’t know.’ He drew in another long breath.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Her voice broke.

‘Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re perfectly beautiful. I just don’t think either of us are ready for this.’

‘Oh Todd. We could just study together after school. Maybe at your house if you’re not sure about mine.’

He sighed. ‘I don’t think we can study together now.’

‘We could make out.’

Todd smiled. ‘Why don’t we wait a while. We can be friends at school.’ He paused. ‘You helped me more than I would have thought last night. I think I may even grow to like history.’

They both gave a short laugh.

‘I’m not sure if I could handle being in the same class now.

Todd took her hand. ‘We’ll get through it. I promise.’ With that he kissed her hand and left.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading

Faith’s Adventures – 8 stories from the Archives.

From the Archives:  Faith’s Adventure – All 8 Stories

Faith to the Rescue
Faith Loses a Friend
Faith Goes on a Holiday
Faith’s Christmas Surprise
Faith’s Close Encounter
Faith’s Discovery
Faith Becomes a Mother
Faith – That’s my Blue Eye
1924250_36118412313_7426_n-imp

Partly true, partly fictional. 8 very short stories about Ken and his dog faith. Suitable for all ages. Please note: story “Faith Loses a Friend” may need parental guidance for younger children.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading 🦋 Short Fiction  

Faith’s Adventures – All 8 Stories

From the Archives:

Faith to the Rescue
Faith Loses a Friend
Faith Goes on a Holiday
Faith’s Christmas Surprise
Faith’s Close Encounter
Faith’s Discovery
Faith Becomes a Mother
Faith – That’s my Blue Eye
1924250_36118412313_7426_n-imp

Partly true, partly fictional. 8 very short stories about Ken and his dog faith. Suitable for all ages. Please note: story “Faith Loses a Friend” may need parental guidance for younger children.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading & 🦋 Short Fiction

Faith Loses a Friend

Parents please note: Because this is a story about drug detection this particular fictional story about Ken and his dog Faith, may require parental guidance for your child or younger teen.

1931032_36129957313_9434_n-impThe day began with rain setting in just after dawn. The roof over the back porch where Faith slept leaked with a constant drip echoing through her dreams. Breakfast was unappetizing. She washed it down with mouthfuls of water from her bowl.

Ken met her at the gate and opened the front passenger door of his twin cab utility. His Australian Border Security uniform looked impressive as usual but it somehow saddened her this morning. She sighed heavily.

‘Come on girl, you’d better sit up front today, I left the back window open last night.’

Faith kept her opinions to herself during the fifteen-minute drive to work. She just stared out the front window oblivious of the usual excitement of the windscreen wipers swishing back and forth.

‘OK, let’s go.’

Faith and Ken’s responsibility was to track down drug couriers, find hidden narcotics sent through the mail and check newly arrived shipping containers at the wharf. Today was different somehow. Faith wondered why Ken held her back from the work truck parked behind the security police offices. Instead, they headed into the lunchroom where she greeted the other officers. They joked together and tossed a ball around when the telephone was quiet. Faith particularly liked Jonesy who always brought biscuits.

Ken knelt down and rubbed Faith behind her ears. ‘We’re not going out today, girl. Sorry’.

Chief Barrymore stuck his head around the door-frame.

‘Ken, Faith,’ he called out. ‘My office.’

Faith followed Ken obediently into the office before the chief closed the door.

‘Ken’, Barrymore began, ‘it’s a sad day when I have to keep you two from your work but this is important.’ He motioned to Ken to sit before handing him a file.

‘You are aware that we had stored those drugs from last night’s bust in our unused vault here for safekeeping.’

Ken nodded his reply but didn’t look up from the file opened in his hand.

‘Some vault. The stuff vanished overnight. It’s the last time I listen to Headquarters.’

Ken head jerked up. ‘ You’re kidding?’

‘No, I’m afraid it’s no joke but something’s strange about this whole thing.’ He paused… ‘Like there had to be a tip off. How would anyone know that it would be stored here until Headquarters could pick it up this morning?’

Ken closed the file. ‘What do you want us to do, Chief?’

‘I want you and Faith to track down the culprit. Our overnight visitor didn’t leave any clues that I can see. Come with me.’ He stood and led them out the door and down a long hallway to the vault.

After Barrymore open the safe Ken peered inside and examined the dark chasm.

‘There’s no damage to the front of the safe but there’s seems to be another room… or space behind it.’

‘Yes, that is odd. I thought the rear of the vault was the outside wall. Hard to tell in these old buildings.’

‘It’s too small a gap for me.’ He turned to Faith and clicked his fingers at the opening.

With the light of Barrymore’s torch, Faith moved forward and crouched down onto her belly to crawl the short distance. She started to whimper and paw at the rear wall. Suddenly, there was a thin strip of light.

‘Stay girl.’

Ken and the chief raced outside and around the building where they saw a couple of bricks laying on the ground between their building and the next.

As they approached, Faith’s pushed her nose up against another brick causing it to fall at their feet.

Ken rubbed his finger along the mortar line around the immediate area then pulled a few more bricks aside and helped Faith through.

‘Good girl, Faith.’ Ken said before giving her a hug.

‘Clever,’ the chief said. ‘They must have balanced the bricks after removing the mortar to give the appearance that it was still intact.’

Thunder rumbled overhead as Faith sniffed  the ground around them before heading back up the path. Barrymore diverted toward the rear door of the building where a few old umbrellas leaned against the wall before following Ken and his dog.

Alerted senses led Faith to the cracked concrete car parking area before circling a place where signs of fresh oil mingled with rainwater. The murky liquid dribbled on to an area where a car must have recently parked for some time. She continued to sniff around a small puddle of oily water.

Ken appeared behind her. ‘What did you find, Faith?’

Without waiting for his pat she continued on, her nose close to the concrete. It was still raining. In fact, it was becoming a heavy downpour.

Ken wiped his hand across the top of his head and followed.

Barrymore came up behind them with an umbrella held high and shrugged. ‘It’s got to be too wet for…’ he yelled.

In the next instant she had raced off towards a car that was parked opposite the police vehicles. It was Jonesy’s car. Faith was all over the old Ford V8 in seconds. Chief Barrymore and Ken hurried over to the rear of the car where faith was barking and scratching at the boot lid.

Ken twisted his penknife into the keyhole before kicking it with the heel of his work boot. Concealed inside were the missing bags of heroin. Chief Barrymore turned and raced as fast as he could against the driving rain toward the rear door of the offices. His umbrella turned inside out with a violent rip, flew from his hold, and lodged into the fence, narrowly missing Ken struggling with the duffle bag.

In the confusion, Faith noticed Jonesy creeping around the side of the building toward one of the police cars. She bounded after him, leaving Ken to deal with the now-soaked bag.

Faith dived onto Jonesy, bringing him down hard onto the concrete. Chief Barrymore and two other officers arrived as he hit the ground. Jonesy was handcuffed and taken back inside.

Ken called to Faith as he passed carrying the duffle bag over his shoulder.

Once inside, and the drugs guarded in Barrymore’s office awaiting armoured collection, Ken wiped his face with a towel then dried Faith.

‘You did great,’ he said.

Later, when they were finally home, Ken put in an extra handful of dried biscuits into her dish and gave her a pat before heading inside to get out of his wet uniform.

Faith ate her tea hungrily and wandered off to her bed where she dreamed of biscuits that she would no longer get at coffee breaks. She would miss them and her friend Jonesy.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2018
This is a work of fiction. Except for Ken and his dog Faith all other characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading & 🦋 Short Fiction

Big Brother

‘You must be kidding me! Why would you do such a thing?’

Rosy began to cry. ‘Michael, you don’t understand.’

‘No, I don’t understand. Why would my own sister tell the police a lie like that?’

‘You know I can’t tell a lie.’

‘But you DID!’

The argument continued all the way home from the police station.

Taking in a deep breath, Michael pull into the driveway of their home. ‘Why would you even think I would do something like that?’

‘I saw you.’

‘You saw me pick up a phone from a seat in the quadrangle. Right?’

‘Yes.’

‘But I didn’t steal it. Someone left it there and I picked it up to take it to the office. For Pete’s sake, Rosy, what would you have done?’

‘I wouldn’t have stolen it?’

‘I did not steal it! You know you got me into a lot of trouble today. How do I explain this to Mum?’

‘Well, it’s all your fault.’ She opened the car door and got out.

‘I did not steal it.’

The door slammed shut.

Michael rested his head on the steering wheel and groaned. ‘This is the third time this month. Why does she go out of her way to get me into trouble? Why does everyone believe her over me?’

The passenger door opened and shut again. ‘Why indeed Michael? Why do you put your sister in such situations?’

‘But…’

‘No buts about it. This time you have gone too far.’ His stepfather tossed a bag onto the back seat.

‘Don’t come back until you sort yourself out. Your mother and sister don’t need you anymore.’

Michael looked up, then at the bag on the back seat. ‘You can’t be serious.’

This man who was supposed to be a dad to him left the car and slammed the door.

This had gone too far. ‘This is madness. Why do they believe everything she says?’

He reversed out of the driveway and headed away from the only home he knew.

‘Rosy!’ He spoke into the empty car. ‘You have gone too far this time.’

He pulled into the McDonald’s car-park and took out his phone. ‘Jeremy, I need a place to sleep.’

‘Uh oh. Don’t tell me. Rosy’s flipped again.’

‘I can’t believe this. Today, I was charged with theft.’ He continued his defence and finished with an expletive.

‘OK. OK. Settle down.  I’ll come meet you for a burger before we come home.’

It was nine o’clock before Michael drove to Jeremy’s home to sleep the night. Michael hoped it was only just one night. The police interview seemed to go on and on and his argument with Rosy and their stepfather made him weary.

‘Let’s talk some more in the morning’, Jeremy said pointing to the spare room.

He just nodded and went to bed.

The following day at school was like a nightmare. Rosy had spread the word. ‘Little fink.’ Michael stayed out of everyone’s way, including the teachers.

‘Michael, come see me after school.’ This came from his English teacher, Mr Jacobs. ‘I think we should talk.’

Michael had only nodded but he showed up as requested.

‘Michael,’ I would never have thought…’

‘I didn’t.’

‘I know you didn’t steal that phone. In fact, I have left a statement at the police station this morning as soon as the rumours started.’

Michael looked up.

‘You see, I had been sitting there to tie my shoe laces earlier. It was my phone and I know it wasn’t stolen. I got distracted and forgot to pick it up. I was heading back as the bell rang and saw that you had picked it up, looked around and headed for the office. You were too far away to hear me over the bell.’

‘The office was closed.’

‘I know.’

‘Then why does everyone else believe Rosy?’

‘Ahh… Rosy. She’s been in one of my classes since she started high school. She has her problems but I have no idea what they are. She seemed like a nice kid a year ago. Are there problems at home?’

‘Only that she keeps telling our mother and our stepfather lies about me.’

‘Your stepfather?’

Michael sighed. ‘Our mother remarried a few years ago. Rosy has never accepted it.’ He paused. ‘Maybe I haven’t either. I’ve tried…’

‘Michael, are you sure Rosy is OK?’

‘Ha. I think she’s lost the plot.’

‘And your mother?’

‘She’s changed too in some ways. Quieter I think.’

‘Would you like me to talk to her? Rosy I mean.’

‘Why? She’ll only tell everyone.’

‘Leave it with me and forget about those charges. They’ll be dropped and your name cleared but do me a favour.’

‘What?’

‘Keep an eye on Rosy. I think there’s more to this resentment toward you than you realise.’

Michael was a little confused but shook the teacher’s hand and headed for home in his old but reliable car that had once belonged to their birth father. He missed his dad. Why did you have to die? As he left the car-park, he saw Rosy walking with her friends. You can walk. He continued to mumble to himself.

As he neared home, he remembered what Mr Jacobs had told him. He groaned audibly before making a U turn and drove back the way he came.

Rosy was walking alone now since her friends lived closer to school. He made another U turn and pulled up just ahead of his sister and reached over to open the door. ‘Get in.’

Rosy obeyed but sat sulkily long after they left the curb.

Michael kept glancing over at his sister who seemed smaller than usual.

‘Are you OK?’, he finally asked.

She didn’t answer so he didn’t ask again.

Later that evening, Michael sat at the dining table doing his homework. Opposite, Rosy was reading from a textbook. The room was silent except for the muffle din of the television in the next room. Their mother was in the kitchen clearing up after their evening meal.

Michael wanted to say something. He wanted to ask a question but didn’t know why or what. He wasn’t even sure if it was Rosy or his mother he wanted to speak to. So, he just remained silent.

‘Rosy’, the voice called from the other room. ‘I want you home early tomorrow.’

Their mother drew in a sharp breath and a fork clattered onto the tiled floor.

Michael leaned across the table and whispered.  ‘Why?’

‘Shush.’

Their mother wiped over the benches; head down and unmistakably whimpering quietly.

Michael rose and approached his mother. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Stay out of it’, is all she said so quietly he thought of asking her again.

The voice raised above the television. ‘Did you hear me, Rosy?’

‘Yes, Dad.’

Michael cleared his throat and looked from Rosy to his mother before speaking. ‘I don’t have classes in the afternoon so I’ll drive her home.’

Fear reflected in his mother’s eyes. Rosy was biting the corner of her textbook.

‘Don’t bother.’ His stepfather spoke as he entered the room. ‘She’s needed. Not you. You shouldn’t even be here.’ The man sharply poked Michael in the ribs before going to the refrigerator for a beer.

Silence remained long into the night. Michael knocked quietly on Rosy’s door. ‘Rosie, it’s me.’

‘Come in’, she said meekly.

He shut the door behind him and sat on the end of her bed. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing. I can’t tell you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t want Mum to get hurt.’

‘What the…’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘You’re not coming home alone.’

‘I have too.’

Michael stood. ‘No, you’re not and Mum will be OK.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Leave it to me.’ He left the room.

The following morning at breakfast, no one spoke. Their mother was in the laundry when their stepfather headed out the door to go to work.

Michael stood behind his sister’s chair and gently squeezed her shoulders. ‘Stay here. I’ll drive you to school but I need to talk to Mum first.’

A few minutes later, the three left together in Michael’s car. ‘I’ll drop you off Mum, and take Rosy to school and return to pick you up.’

Rosy looked confused but returned her mother’s nod as the car stopped in front of the Police station.

At school, they sought out Mr Jacobs who was in the staff room. Michael left Rosy outside in the corridor. Mr Jacobs had come out and had rushed into the Principal’s office leaving Michael with his sister. Minutes later Michael was driving both his teacher and Rosy to the Police station where they were ushered into a small office. There they re-joined their mother who was speaking to a uniformed Police woman. Introductions were made and seats offered.

‘We’ve sent two police officers to collect your stepfather. They’ll be taking him directly to the interview room so he won’t know any of you are here.’

Rosy spoke for the first time that morning. ‘But he’ll come after us later.’

‘No, you will be in a safe house until we know what charges are made and if he’ll be kept in custody. Most likely he will, even if he gets a good lawyer.’

Their mother thanked Mr Jacobs. ‘I’m very grateful. I was so stupid not to believe Michael.’ She turned to Rosy.’ And I’m sorry for not standing up for either of you.’

Rosy leaned into her mother and looked up at her brother. ‘I’m sorry I made up all those lies. I just wanted to get your attention.’

Michael gave a small smile and reached out for his sister’s hand. ‘I’m sorry too for being so caught up in myself that I missed all the signs.’ He looked over to their teacher. ‘We have Mr Jacobs to thank for taking the time to talk to me.’

‘No need to thank me. I’ve been wondering for too long why Rosy changed so quickly. I should have said something before this.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m so sorry, I should have realised…the signs were all there…I just didn’t want to believe it.’

Rosie sat up and look into her mother’s tear stained face. ‘Everything will be okay, Mum.’

‘Yes’, Mum and Michael said in unison.

Michael continued. ‘We have each other, and you Rosie, will never need to try and get my attention again. Big brother will be watching out for you.’

The siblings gave a stifled chuckle.

© Chrissy Siggee – 2019

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading

Stinky

Thirteen-year-old Sarah stood in the kitchen doorway; arms firmly folded. Defiance kindled her annoyance. Tension grew as she watched her mother fill the dishwasher. ‘I’m not going,’ Sarah declared. ‘Give me one good reason why I should.’

‘It’s only going to be a month. Please Sarah; you know your father needs this cruise to help with his recovery.’

‘But Aunt Carla … stinks.’ She knew it wasn’t a nice thing to say, but it was true. Everyone knew it.

Sarah remembered their visit to her Aunt Carla’s at Christmas. She lived in a sun-bleached clapboard house in an old neighbourhood. With no car, she walked once a week to the store and post office. Her only apparent regular visitor was a nurse every Wednesday. Sarah recalled the embarrassment she felt when they took her smelly aunt to the Christmas service.

Her mother’s voice drew her back to the present. ‘I know how you feel about your Aunt Carla, but she’s close to school. You won’t be with her all day every day. Even church is nearby and you can phone Pastor Jim for transport to youth group.’

Sarah unfolded her arms and opened her mouth to respond, stopping short at the sight of her father staggering in from the yard. His mouth drooped on one side and spittle hung in mid-air about two inches from his bristly chin. She turned and ran to her room, throwing herself onto her bed. Her mother followed.

‘You will go, Sarah. The doctor said it will take time and this cruise will help. He’s fortunate the stroke didn’t affect his walking.’

‘Okay, I’ll go to Aunt Carla’s.’

Sarah ate her breakfast in silence. She ignored her aunt sitting opposite. The kitchen smelled musty and mingled with mothballs, which lingered in the air throughout the house. Neither had spoken much since Sarah had arrived three days earlier. In the evenings, the only sound heard was the tinkling of silverware against old dinner plates while they ate their evening meals. The spacious sunroom, consisting of a large comfortable day bed, a closet and an antique table, was where she would stay … out of Aunt Carla’s way.

‘Would you like something special for tea tonight? I can make hamburgers and chocolate chip cookies, your father’s favourites.’

The packet macaroni and frozen pizzas her aunt had prepared the previous night, invaded Sarah’s already depressing thoughts. ‘That’s okay, whatever you want.’

Aunt Carla rose to her feet and wheezed heavily; her foul breath caused Sarah to cringe. The older woman took her breakfast plate to the sink and stood with her back to her niece.

Sarah felt a pang of unexpected guilt. She finished her breakfast and hurried to collect her things for school. Her aunt was still at the sink when Sarah passed the kitchen on her way out. She heard her aunt sniffle and watched as she removed a tissue from her pocket. Leaving the room noiselessly, Sarah step outside and closed the door.

‘Sarah, what’s ya doin’ at Stinky’s?’ She looked up to see a face disappear back through the window of a passing school bus.

Keeping her eyes downward, Sarah began walking in the direction of school. She quickened her step and almost immediately bumped into someone approaching from the opposite direction. Sarah quickly apologized and knelt to pick up the items the woman had dropped. Sarah lifted her head and realized this woman was a community nurse. ‘Oh, you must be going to see my aunt.’

‘Yes, I’m Jenny and you must be Sarah. Carla’s been so excited about you coming to stay. You know, I overheard that boy. I’m sorry. It must be hard to hear people say such nasty things about your aunt. They just don’t understand that some forms of terminal lung disease cause the body to produce odour from dying cells.’

‘What? Oh…yeah. I better get to school.’

Sarah’s heart pounded and her breathing accelerated, but it had nothing to do with her vigorous walking. She began to cry thinking about the terrible things she had said and thought about her aunt.

Oh God, I’m so selfish. Help me to be a friend to Aunt Carla. Please look after Daddy and make him well.  I think you have a few things to teach me while I’m here. Help me learn…

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading

Locked Out!

‘Geraldine! Open the door. Please, let me explain.’

‘Go away, Mum! I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Please understand, Geraldine. I had to do it.’

‘That’s just so lame.’ Geraldine rolled her eyes. ‘You’re pathetic.’

Geraldine’s mobile phone played her favourite Red-Hot Chili Peppers song: Nobody Weird like Me. She grabbed her iridescent purple phone from the bed and checked the caller ID. Crystal’s photo appeared on the screen. ‘Hi, Crystal, I’m not really in the mood to talk.’

‘Geraldine, what’s going on? I was about to knock on your front door when I heard you screaming.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘At your front gate. Where are you?’

‘In my bedroom, but…’

‘I’ll come around to your window.’

Geraldine was about to argue but realized Crystal had rung off. By the time she opened the window Crystal was outside waiting.

To Geraldine’s relief, Crystal kept her voice quiet. ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

Geraldine turned and threw herself back onto the bed. ‘I can’t believe she did it.’

‘Did what?’ Crystal raised her voice to a hoarse whisper to be heard from where she stood in the garden.

‘She threw Dad out.’

Crystal climbed through the window. ‘He’s been drinking again?’

‘Just because he likes a drink after work…’ Geraldine bit her lip and paused. ‘It wasn’t his fault that he hit her last night.’ She began to cry.

‘Hey, girl, you can’t possibly think he should stay if he’s hitting her.’

‘But, he’s my dad and it’s his home too.’

Geraldine’s best friend sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Do you remember when my mother threw my dad out?’

‘That’s different, Crystal; he was beating you and your brother. I remember going to the hospital with you when he broke your arm.’

‘Like, before that, he was hitting my mother. She used to hide out the backyard until he fell asleep, but then he started beating us instead. Yes, Geraldine, that’s why she threw him out, but do you think your mother is going to wait for that to happen to you? Your mother knows what we went through.’

There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door and Geraldine accepted a tissue from Crystal to wipe her eyes.

Her mother’s voice was croaky. ‘Geraldine, can we talk?’

‘OK Mum. Just a minute.’

Crystal gave Geraldine a quick hug before she climbed back out the window. As she waved goodbye, Geraldine took a deep breath before opening the door.

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading

Carla’s Big Chance

Carla answered her mobile phone after the second line of her special ringtone “Nobody Weird like Me”, Travis’s favourite song. ‘Hi, Travis. What’s up?’

‘Not much, I just wanted to see what my baby sister was up to.’

‘Oh fine, I guess. I just wish Dad would ease up on me.’

Travis chuckled. ‘Still skipping classes?’

‘You know I hate school, Travis. Why do I need an education to be in movies? It’s…’ Carla’s voice trailed off.

‘I know, Sis. You just want to hit the big time now.’

‘Yeah, as if that’s going to happen when I’m in a stupid Math class or something. What have you been up too?’

‘I had a few minutes. Just wanted see how my kid sister was doing before I ironed my uniform, polished my buckle and shine my boots. You know how it is.’

It was Carla’s turn to chuckle. ‘OK, have fun at boot camp. Don’t let them catch you with your mobile phone.’

Carla rested back on her pillows and sighed. She missed Travis; missed his loud music and after school visits with her to the youth centre to play snooker when she was supposed to be doing homework.

Her phone buzzed. ‘Hello,’ she answered without checking the caller ID.

‘Hey, Carla, you up for some fun?’

It was Toni, a girl she’d met a few weeks ago at the youth centre. Toni wanted to be a model and Carla liked her right off.

‘What kind of fun?’ Carla answered half-heartedly.

‘Remember Kevin?’

‘Yeah, he’s the nerd that was playing chess at the youth centre. Goes to that snooty school off Main Street.’

‘Yep, that’s him.’ Toni sounded excited. ‘He’s making a video for his school. Kevin’s uncle is on the school board and has heaps of money and some neat video equipment. He likes Kevin’s script and wants to enter him in a junior filmmaker’s competition in Hollywood!’

‘So, what’s that got to do with me?’

‘Kevin needs a couple of girls to do some acting for him.’

Carla sprang from her bed. ‘You’re kidding! When?’

‘We’re meeting them at the youth centre in half an hour.”

‘I’m on my way.’ Carla ended the call. This could be the break I’m looking for. If Kevin wins the competition, Toni and I could be on our way to Hollywood.

It took less than a minute for Carla to see Toni talking to Kevin near the snooker tables. They were talking to another young guy who was leaning against a soda machine. Carla smiled at the handsome young man. He reached out to shake her hand. She was mesmerized by his presence.

‘Hi Carla.’ Kevin broke the spell. ‘My uncle is waiting for us at his home. We’re doing the video there.’

Kevin’s uncle’s house was a few blocks from the youth centre. On the way Kevin explained his script. ‘It’s a film I’m doing for my photography and visual effects class. My uncle offered to help with his equipment.’ He laughed. ‘He doesn’t trust me with his precious stuff.’

They arrived at a huge two-story house surrounded by an immaculate garden. They climbed the front stairs and Kevin unlocked the door.

Carla was elated as she stepped into the impressive entry. She looked beyond an archway where two video cameras and a still life camera were set up on tripods facing a sofa… a sofa covered with cushions and satin sheets. Toni grinned at her and winked. The boys walked on past the girls and headed to one of the cameras and began to adjust some dials.

‘What’s going on, Toni? Where’s Kevin’s Uncle?’ Carla began to panic.

‘Who needs his uncle? They have the equipment and we have the opportunity of a lifetime right here.’

Steve returned to Carla’s side and skimmed his index finger down her cheek and flicked her hair. ‘Hey Carla, don’t fret. Isn’t this what you wanted? Glamour! Fame! It’s worth a hundred bucks.’

Carla’s heart raced and her breathing quickened. With one sudden movement, she turned and ducked through the still open front door. She raced up the path and onto the street turning her head to see the three of them standing outside. They were laughing at her. Carla gasped and began to run.

When Carla was sure she hadn’t been followed, she slowed her pace. Tears and sweat streamed down her face. She drew in deep breaths and swallowed repeatedly trying to regain control before returning home. Maybe I should wait a few years before I think about Hollywood. She wiped her brow with the sleeve of her sweater and wished for some big brother advice.

‘I’m home,’ Carla called from the front room. ‘I’ve got an assignment due. I’ll be in my room.’

‘OK,’ her mother called back. ‘We’ll be eating at seven. I’m running late.’

Carla entered her bedroom and closed the door. She took her mobile phone from her pocket and hit Travis’s speed-dial. Taking a deep breath she struggled to fight back more tears.

‘Hey Sis, you just caught me. What’s up?’

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.Archived in:

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading

Sea Hawke

Another short story I wrote back in 2008 to 2010 for The Cypress Times in Texas. I haven’t

“Father, let me take the Sea Hawke. I can bring home more fish.”

“Son, it’s one thing to go out past the bay on your own in the Mermaid, but you need more experience with the Sea Hawke. The Sea Hawke is much too big for you to handle on your own.”

“But, Father…”

The older man lifted his hand palm outward and said no more. He stepped out of the deep sea fishing boat that had been in his family for generations. He glanced at his 15-year-old son, Simon. He was tall for his age and sturdily built like his older brother, but had a defiant nature that sometimes got him into trouble. He watched his son for a moment before wearily heading home.

Simon threw a pebble into the water of their little cove and stormed up to the end of the wharf where his small run-about was tied up. He turned his head to see his father step out of view.

“It’s not fair,” he spat into the cooling breeze.

Simon clambered into his small dinghy and pulled the cord on the small motor. The motor revved and he released the rope. Skimming across the water his eye wondered momentarily to the Mermaid anchored beyond the cove before concentrating on the Sea Hawke a little farther out where the water was deeper. 

He eased off the throttle as he neared the Sea Hawke and pulled in alongside. “I know what I’m doing,” he muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth and hauling himself over the side of his father’s precious boat. He’d been out in the Sea Hawke since he was seven. His brother, Thomas, who was only three years older, had taken him out to sea many times.

The engine struggled to start. He stood at the helm and clenched his teeth. “Come on.” He tried again and the motor roared to life. He let the engine idle while he pulled up anchor and methodically coiled the chain onto the deck. With care, he guided the Sea Hawke forward before he turned the boat and headed out to sea.


It was almost an hour of gentle rising and falling over deep-sea waters before he slowed the boat to a stop. “This looks perfect,” he spoke into the salty wind. He watched sea birds fly in circles just above the surface of lightly foaming waves.

“Okay, now the nets.” He struggled and perspiration trickled down his face. Finally the net went over the side and disappeared almost instantly.

He returned to the helm and allowed the boat to move forward. The thick ropes that held the nets to the deck now trailed behind the boat and began to sag under the weight of his catch.

“I knew I could do it,” he congratulated himself.

The boat jolted and twisted in an unexpected swirl of waves. “Huh! What the…”

Simon struggled to steer the Sea Hawke. It began to tip to the starboard side. The wind had also unmistakably risen and Simon began to panic. He cut off the engine and ran to the stern.

“Oh no! Father will be angry.”

The Sea Hawke heaved and Simon grabbed at the ropes for balance. He suddenly found himself leaning far over the edge of the boat. He stared into the clouded eyes of a dead young whale which had snagged in the net. Its weight was pulling the boat over.

When the boat steadied and rested almost completely on its side, he gingerly reached for a fishing knife that hung from a hook on the stern.

“I … can’t … reach … ” He stretched as far as he could but the rise and fall of the boat wrenched it out of reach. He struggled to breathe, coughing violently as the fall of the waves threatened to choke him. The salt stung his eyes and blurred his vision. He vomited onto the deck. Dizziness engulfed him.


“SIMON! SIMON!”

Simon shook his head to clear it. He must be hearing things.

“SIMON, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”

Simon looked up and around until his eyes fell on his father’s face. He was a little way off the bow in The Mermaid. Through the sea spray he saw Thomas lob a rope over the top of the bow but the dizziness returned and he grabbed the net as the boat rose and fell heavily.

Suddenly, Thomas had a strong arm around him. Thomas’s free hand hacked away at the ropes of the net with his knife. It seemed like an eternity to Simon, but finally the net gave way under the weight and fell into the churning waves. The boat rebounded almost throwing them overboard together. But Thomas held tight.

Simon sat on the deck of The Mermaid, wrapped in an old blanket. He shivered and coughed. The tow ropes slackened and tightened as the boats pushed through the heavy swell. His father hadn’t spoken since Thomas helped him aboard The Mermaid. He turned to his father standing at the helm and met his father’s glare, eyes slightly closed, jaw stiffly jerked sideways. Simon fought against the tears that suddenly threatened. He had hurt his father and lost his trust. Quickly wiping the blanket across his eyes to avoid his father’s penetrating stare; he took a deep breath.

“Are you okay, my son?”

Simon nodded in his father’s direction before looking up. His father’s face had relaxed a little and some of the softness had returned to the deep sea-green eyes. “Yes, Father.” He looked back out over the stern and watched Thomas expertly work at the helm of his father’s crippled Sea Hawke.

© Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Archived in: 🦋 Teen Reading