A Ghost boy called Timmy

Date: 11/5/2016

I had promised to go my friend's house warming party - but time had flown passed so fast, before I knew it, it was 9 o clock at night and the carnival had already finished. "They are all going to hate me!" I thought. Next scene; my ex husband, Mat, was being a knob again - a stranger to the guy I married. I ran up to my room crying because I was so heartbroken that I could no longer recognise him anymore. To put it bluntly, he had turned into an arrogant twat! In bed, I eventually fell asleep but I was struggling to breathe out of my nose and, instead, had to breathe through my mouth - which became 'cotton wool' dry. When I woke, there was a meal on my lap in bed - chicken and chips. But as I cut into the chicken it was pink inside. I started sobbing hysterically and Phoebe, my daughter - who was now sitting next to me - got upset too. "Please don't be upset!" She said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I was expecting Mat to come and find me, and although I kept hearing footsteps near by, he never came up to check if I was okay. A sadness stirred inside me. After a while, I decided to go downstairs. Mat was in the kitchen on the phone to his mum. I could hear that she was whining about me. She didn't approve of me wanting to take the kids to the party so late at night. A feeling of guilt began to choke me. When I rolled my sleeve up, I saw that I had a big black mark on my arm. I wasn't sure whether it was a scar or not, until I started peeling it off to reveal a smaller scar underneath - pink in colour. I walked into the living room - which was twice the size of my mine in real life - and Mat and his mum were sat together on the sofa. Alex, my son, was also there. I sat on the opposite side of the room on a completely different sofa. "Will he move here to sit with me?" I pondered. He didnt. But, instead, my son came and sat next to me. "It's okay!" I whispered to him. Next scene; Phoebe and I were watching a documentary about a famous girl (but I can't remember how she came to fame) she was my daughters age (12 years old). She was dressed in short shorts with fishnet tights underneath. "Phoebe, just because she's wearing clothes of this kind, it's doesn't mean you can wear this sort of outfit" I warned. "Okay" she replied. Next thing we knew, we were at the famous girl's house and Phoebe had to dress like the girl...it was part of a game show or something of that kind. So she quickly rummaged through the girls clothes. "What sort of thing does she wear?" Phoebe asked. We must have suppressed the fishnet and short shorts combo because neither of us could remember. "Adidas superstars?" I guessed. "Oh yeah. Where would they be?" She started rummaging through the girl's bedroom, opening up different cupboards. One led to a completely different room where the curtains were drawn and in the back of the cupboard there was a chest of drawers with only wrapping paper inside. "That's strange! There's only wrapping paper in here!" Phoebe called over to me. Next scene; we were in a house that originally looked like my old 1940's build on Whitmore Road - but this house soon turned into a mansion. In one of the bedrooms the floor was sloping down on one side, as if it were to give way at any point. This didn't seemed to phase me and I continued onwards with the tour. As we walked into each room, the walls expanded and it became more and more extravagant. As our tour guide - who was my old neighbour - showed us around the huge conservatory (that looked like the Eden project) she told us how cheap the house had been put on the market and how they haven't been able to sell it. "But why? This house is absolutely amazing! I'd love a house like this! There's so much potential!" She then told me about the ghost of a boy called, Timmy, who got run over by a miniature train ride that was speeding around the big house during a birthday party. I watched the scene play out in my head... the train hurling to a halt and the boy trapped under the wheels - followed by darkness. "Sometimes we hear a flapping and that's when we know he's here" she told me, with fear in her eyes. Next scene; Tony and I stopped off at this junk shop. We walked inside and whilst he spoke to the shop owner I was drawn to a really nice coffee table "Only £75! A bargain!" I thought. "I wish I could take it home with me!" But I resisted temptation and instead left the shop empty handed. As we drove away, Tony, who at this point, looked rather trim, had driven into a lamppost outside of the shop. We got out to evaluate the damage. "It's a write-off!" He groaned, with sadness in his eyes. On the Main Street, there were different entertainment acts - there was a guy rolling around on the floor and a person on a GREAT BIG pair of stilts (my greatest fear!) along with others. The guy who was rolling around on the floor was causing a lot of issues getting in people's way and almost caused an accident with the person on stilts. Two police officers went up to him and told him to pack it in - but he actually turned out to be a heroin addict and not one of the acts. Next scene; I was at a tea party. There was a Chinese lady - must have been in her 50's - handing around different types of tea. But as I poured it into my cup, it didn't look so appetising. Despite its appearance I gulped it down anyway and found that it tasted really great.