WHAT DO I KNOW ABOUT MY CHARACTER
Attempt at my story:
“You’re moving” the words had been echoing in my ears all day, my heart felt as though it was beating blood through my body then around the block too. I felt heavy and drained like someone who has been swimming in a thick, winter coat. I knew that it was going to happen fast. It always had, when it happened to the people close to me. First it was my best friend John; he was my first friend once I came through the bulky red door of this once enormous building. He was sent to live with a couple who were old enough to be his great-grandparents. The managers old gave him three days notice. Three days! It was hardly enough time to say goodbye after ten years of friendship.
I know the protocol for when someone is welcomed into another family; a speech is to be prepared. I want to start to rehearse my speech I’m going to give yet I can’t find the words to describe the Jeffrey House and all the moments it holds. Years of anxiety and warmth, fear and delight embedded into its ageing, dusty brown bricks. This aged building has the short start to my childhood deep-rooted into itself, even though a few sections of the massive building have been long forgotten the memories still stay with me.
There’s the matured large oak tree which stands out the back of the house. It has so many arms that branch off over the tall fence to the ground, its leaves wave whenever there is the slight trace of wind; this tree was where I first met John on my fifth birthday. The tree although bigger than us, was miniature compared to its stature as I gaze over it now.
“Shush, shush. We can’t make it obvious what where we are going!”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see…”
Footprints could be seen in the long grass as you could see how we’d stepped around the oversized roots that were sprawled out along the ground hidden by the grass; they lead to the spot around behind the tree where no-one could be seen. John and I had a mental map of where the roots from the tree expanded. I recognised the spot instantly; it was the place was where I first ran into john. But what I saw in the spot of this place was the most beautiful ginger cat I’d ever seen laying in the grass. Instantly I noticed its stomach and irregular it looked compared to other cats.
“I found her here; she’s going to be having kittens. I’ve been sneaking her food from the managers.”
“Wow.” Was all I managed to say back, I was in shock. Every day after that John and I would sneak out food for the cat till she had here kittens and then she eventually left the cover of the oak tree taking her kitten’s home. From then it was our place, this was the place where we would always meet whenever we needed each other, the place behind the tree where we could escape into another world and the place where they were brought into this world.
Tears slide down my cheeks from my blue watery eyes as the memory fades progressively from my thoughts as the memory sparks another. We were older now, six or seven, on the swings, flinging our legs underneath our bodies and stretching them back out to propel our bodies forward trying to beat each other. John and I always had competition between the two of us.
“Okay, first one to swing higher than the tallest branch on the oak wins then you have to jump off to see who can go the furthest.”
“I’ll beat you today!” I replied running towards the swings. This day I was determined to win at all costs. I jumped on the swings at half speed and began furiously pumping my legs to achieve a head start. In the background I could hear john laughing at me as he easily swung catching up to my pace. I felt light and free high up on the swings. I felt as though I could soar through the air like a plane. That all came crashing down as I jumped off the swing falling upon the large roots of the tree, breaking my arm. Whenever I glance down at the scar I received from the tree, I laugh at the memory of the look of horror on Johns face and how he was my servant for the next week till he was sick of me telling him what to do. My cast didn’t stay white for long, the great big oak tree was drawn, dirt was permanently on it and names were signed.
“See we’ve never forgotten that day.” John would laugh whenever he would see my scar. The link between us, our friendship and the tree continued to grow.
John and I had always had the special connection with the oak tree better than anyone one else at the orphanage. It was always our safe place and the first place we would go when we could. My mind flashes back to the adventures we used to go on as I browse over the old photos of my friends. Maddie, John, Eric and I were all standing there covered in mud, smiling so brightly, standing at the front of the house, the oak tree visible behind the house on the edge of the photo. The tree was always there, looking over us, always apart of our identity in either a big or little way. Maddie and Eric played with us under and around the bottom of the oak tree because we weren’t the only children who played under the cover of the large branches. We didn’t all meet there, but it was always our ending point. We would constantly go on adventures around the back of the house, over the sandpit, through the manager’s flowers and finally ending at the oak tree. The scariest adventure was when we had to take the meanest managers whistle which she would use to call us in for lunch. John taking charge told Maddie, Eric and I that we were to distract the managers while he ran and took the whistle off the bench. I was shaking walking up to my favourite manager, Jodie not knowing how to distract her so we wouldn’t get caught. I didn’t just have butterflies in my stomach, I had elephants going wild. Was I going to fake being sick? Was I going to distract her by dancing or singing? As I reached her I decided on my singing and dancing routine as soon as I saw her I started dancing around her trying to turn her around.
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