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Mittel- & Oberschule
face once more.
“Rose! My precious Juliet! My Love! How I
have missed you! How could you torment me
so?”
“For the liberation of our precious love,”
Rose sighed, sinking into William’s arms with
relief.
He felt her warm body in his trembling arms.
Her lips smothered his tears and her eyes
danced with elated ardour.
“Oh, my sweet Love, now you have all of me
for yourself.”
Hedwig Taylor 11k2
The Empty Car
His hand rushed down and hit her squarely in
the face. Her cries were desperate, dripping
with fear. I hated watching it and I hated not
watching it because then I could not see if
she was alright. But I hated it both more than
anything but that never changed anything; it
still happened. His hand came down again.
I flinched a little as it hit her face, but it
was alright because his hand was open. If
daddy’s hand was closed, then I started to
worry because it looked more painful and it
left horrible marks on her face. But daddy
needed her, because they were going to a
function tomorrow and mommy couldn’t have
marks on her face. I hated him. As soon as I
could, I would make him pay; but I was only
a child, I would have to bide my time. So I did
what I always did: I slowly, unnoticingly crept
out of the door and into the night.
The night air was cool, refreshing, and the
soil damp beneath my feet. It was a cloudless
night and the stars and moon were shining,
the buttons on my wool jersey glistening.
Daddy had once told me that if nights were
still and perfect like this, it meant bad weather
to come. I did not believe him, for what came
out of his mouth was treacherous. There was
no cloud in the sky, tomorrow would be just
as nice and then I could play with Thomas. I
liked Thomas; he was funny, really funny. He
played tricks on everyone, even teachers.
No-one did that. The teachers did not like
him for his tricks and he was often in trouble.
Most of the time I helped him. We were a
good team and it kept my mind off mommy
and daddy’s problems. I think Thomas knew.
I never told him but he was my best friend
and once when he slept over, he had heard
them fight.
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I looked around. I had walked a lot farther
than I thought. I was nearly there. I smiled
a little. I liked the way time flew when one
thought of some things. It was like a little
time-machine. Often I delved into my mind
thinking of something, creating stories,
and when I returned to reality, hours had
passed.
There it was, reflecting the moonlight. I did
not know how it had got there, but one day it
was just standing there. It was on a remote
part of the farm, through the fields and past
the little forest. Neither mommy nor daddy
knew about it, not even the workers. That
was the best part. It was my secret. It was
a 1972 Chevrolet truck of the third series. I
knew this because we had a car magazine at
home with exactly that car in it. It was daddy’s
favourite, which made me smile because I
already had one and it had always been his
dream to have one. I would never tell him
about it. With a sigh, I lowered myself into the
seat, my fingers slowly tracing the stitching
in the leather seats. I loved doing this. Gently
I lowered myself, bringing my face close to
the leather. The smell was strong. After all
these years the car had been exposed to
the elements, gradually decomposing and
rusting, yet the smell of the leather had
never receded. It was the best smell in the
world. When I stretched to my full extent, I
reached exactly from one door to the other.
Often during warm summer days I would lie
in the back of the pick-up truck and gaze at
the sky for hours. Sometimes I would also
bring Thomas along, telling my parents that
we were going to school and we would spend
the whole day playing Cops and Robbers,
and re-acting high speed car chases.
Thinking of these times always filled me with
joy. I often did it. Mostly when mommy and
daddy were fighting; it was the best way to
ignore it. Slowly my eyes started flickering,
like a bulb in the latter part of its existence,
the sleep slowly settling in. I did not want to
return. I wanted to stay here forever. If I were
to return, I would only fetch Thomas and we
would play Cops and Robbers forever.
Suddenly I jerked up. The gentle pitter-patter
of the rain on the windscreen had woken me
up. Slowly it grew louder and more frequent
until it came pouring down in a deluge.
Sudden fear ripped through me as I peered
out of the window. It was morning. Without