Would anyone like to read this for me? it's the first part to the story I posted up yesterday. Thanks.
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Ricky forced open his eyelids slowly and reluctantly. Immediately, the brightness penetrated his sight and he clasped them shut again with a deep frown. He lay still, staring at the pinkness of the backs of his eyelids as his mind tried to wander around the current situation. He didn?t remember drinking alcohol last night, but he felt rough. The brightness of the room suggested time had gone beyond early morning, why had he not been woken for school? Perhaps his mum, Linda had been drinking alcohol last night rather than him, and she was still asleep.
He raised his hand to his head and rubbed his scalp. His eyes opened wide in an instant as he realised his head was bald. His hair was gone. He bolted upright and grimaced slightly as the stiffness in his neck protested against the sudden movement and for the first time, he realised he was not at home. This was not his bed and this was certainly not his room.
He felt his head again, as though refusing to believe what his hand had told him the last time but instead of his short fine hair, all he felt was tiny, spiky roots. His heart began to race as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. Gone were the Manchester City posters which hung around his bedroom and instead, were pale cream painted walls. The sky blue football curtains which normally hid his windows from daylight were replaced with thin, slightly transparent white cotton sheets which hung elegantly in front of a tall, pine window frame.
?Mum?? Ricky croaked as he sat frozen to the bed. He glanced down to see that he was not wearing his boxer shorts like he normally did for bed. Nor was he wearing his tracksuit bottoms which would be the case if he?d fallen asleep whilst playing on his PlayStation. He was wearing what appeared to be baby-blue, cotton pyjamas.
?MUM?!? he shouted as fear began to replace his confusion. There was no sound other than the faint calls of birds chirping happily outside of the window.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself onto the floor. What would normally be a dirty, blue carpet below his feet, was now clean, polished wooden slats which reflected the light from the window. Ricky pulled himself on to his feet but his legs gave way and he fell loudly onto the floor. A tear stung his eye as his pupils scanned the unfamiliar room frantically.
?MUM?? he pleaded.
As he struggled on the floor, his legs feeling like dead weights beneath him, the sound of footsteps outside of the room caught his attention and he stopped still. He tried to remain silent but his heart was beating so violently, he was sure it could be heard by anyone in close proximity. He set his eyes on the light wooden door in the corner of the room and as the footsteps grew louder, all of a sudden they stopped. Seconds later, someone tapped on the door. It was a light tap, but the fright and shock caused Ricky to throw himself across the floor towards the corner of the room as his heart struggled to keep up with adrenaline pumping through his body. He wanted to shout, to speak, even to whisper but his mouth froze shut as his entire body shook aggressively.
Whoever was on the other side of the door tapped again, a little louder this time and the small, silver door handle turned slowly. Ricky backed himself tightly into the corner as the door opened and a young woman walked through. She was a small woman, petite in build with long, jet black hair which caught the light as she moved. She wore a long, white dress patterned with red roses and she was carrying a white tray.
?So you are awake? I thought I heard you. About time really, I was beginning to worry? she said softly as she bumped the door shut with her foot and walked over to the bed where she placed the tray on the soft fabric.
?You must be hungry?? she asked as she looked over to where Ricky sat cowering in the corner ?boys are always hungry? she smiled.
Ricky studied her face, his bright blue eyes wide with fright and his small hands clenched tightly into shivering fists. He wanted to speak, he wanted to ask her who she was. He needed to ask what was going on, where was he and what had happened to his hair but the words would not come.
?Well, I?ll leave this here for you. It may not be what you?re used to, but it?s better for you? the woman smiled as she left the tray and walked over to the door. As she placed her hand on the shiny silver knob, she turned back to Ricky with a soft smile.
?Don?t be scared, I know it?s hard for you right now, but please try to trust me. I?m Angela by the way. Do eat something, I?ll come back to see you in half an hour?. With that, she opened the door silently and left the room, closing it behind her.
Ricky rubbed his face roughly with his hands. Was he dreaming? What the hell was going on? He turned his head and looked up at the window above him. From this angle, all he saw was a bushy, pink blossom swaying gently in the breeze. A world away from the view of high rise council flats he was normally greeted with from his own bedroom window.
He glanced over to the tray on the bed. On it, was a small bowl and what appeared to be a small glass of orange juice. He never noticed until now, but his stomach was crying out for food. He tried to remember the last time he ate, but it was difficult to remember anything at all.
Ricky shuffled uneasily on his knees and crawled over to the bed. Firstly, he took the glass of orange juice and drank, shuddering as the sour liquid ran over his taste buds. It wasn?t cordial orange like he was used to, this stuff had been squeezed from an actual orange! His face contorted as tiny bits of fruits swam in the liquid as it slipped down his throat. He?d never been able to drink the stuff, he remembered how his grandmother would always offer a glass with breakfast whenever he stayed overnight but he would always decline and ask for cola instead. He wondered if Angela had any cola she could swap for the orange.
Next, he peered into the patterned blue bowl and took the small, plastic spoon which was half emerged in a white, sludgy gruel. He lifted the spoon to his nose but the smell was vague. He assumed it must be some kind of porridge. He creased up his nose as he sucked a small morsel of the food into his mouth, disgusted, he dropped the spoon back into the dish making a mental note to ask Angela for something else when she came back. His stomach rumbled, but the appearance of food and drink, however disappointing had managed to calm his nerves as he rose wearily to his feet. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of the pyjama jacket as he made his way over to the large window at the other side of the room. He realised he was at least two floors from the ground as the pink blossoms from the tall trees were in reaching distance of his window. He peered down to the ground below where he saw a large silent courtyard with small wooden benches scattered around the edges close to the building walls. The building stretched around the courtyard in a square shape. It appeared to be built from mahogany wood with elegant arches and pillars. There seemed to be no one around as the almost eerie atmosphere spoke only silence.
Suddenly, a light tap at the door made Ricky jump away from the window as he struggled to maintain balance on his weak legs. He turned quickly to face the door as it opened slowly and Angela walked back into the room. Now he was standing, he realised she wasn?t much bigger than he was, despite the fact that he was only 10, and she was obviously much older. She smiled softly as her eyes glanced over the empty dish.
?Not hungry?? she asked quietly.
?I don?t like that orange juice? Ricky mumbled. It was the first time he had spoken in Angela?s presence and she simply smiled in return.
?Do you not like fruit?? she asked.
?I like apples, but not that orange juice. I like cola, do you have any cola??
?No, sorry. Would you like some water?? Angela asked.
?No? Ricky frowned ?Can I have a sandwich? Because I didn?t like that either? he continued, pointing to the dish with a creased up nose.
Angela did not reply and instead, walked over to the bed and picked up the tray.
?Hello? Can I have a sandwich?? Ricky pressed sarcastically.
?You are not as hungry as I thought you would be? Angela said quietly.
?I?m fucking starving but I?m not eating that shit? Rick snapped ?Where am I anyway? Who cut my hair off and where are my normal clothes??
?Sorry, I do not understand the words ?fucking? and ?shit?, they?re not words we use here? Angela said calmly as she made her way to the door with the tray in her hands.
?Just tell me where I am! Is this a kid?s home? Cos if it is I?ll only run away again so you might as well let me go home!?.
Angela turned to face him with a smile, her large, dark eyes reflecting the sunlight from the window.
?Gary will see you soon. He will explain everything. I will come back to collect you when it is time, it would be best if you did not leave this room? Angela said as she opened the door and left.