Goodbye Teddy

by Stockholm, JD

  He says thank you and takes the voucher off her. It didn’t work. It gets to the end of school and Karl doesn’t have the money for his mum. I know I can get it for him. I just steal it off my dad instead. But he has to come to my house and I can sneak into my mum and dad’s room and they won’t notice. My dad will be at work anyway and my mum will be in the kitchen or something like that. I steal all the time and they are so stupid, they don’t notice it.

  I can’t take Karl into my house, though. He has to wait outside around the corner. I tell him I will meet him when I get my paper round. But he needs more than £2 because he missed the school bus. Now he has to pay for the tram to get all the way home too.

  When I get home, my mum is in the garden. I run up the stairs and go to my room and get changed very fast. I listen for my mum downstairs. I bend down and look through the secret part, but she isn’t there. I quickly go into my mum and dad’s room and run to the sink where my dad keeps all his change. I take the money for Karl and run out and close the door again.

  My mum comes back out the bathroom when I go downstairs. “Were you in my bedroom?” she asks me.

  “I thought I heard a noise,” I say to her, and then I tell her I have to do my paper round and I run out of the house before she can ask anything else. I get my bike and the papers from the shop, and then I go and meet Karl.

  Karl is so happy when I give him the money. He looks like he is going to cry again. He helps me with my paper round. He says thank you to me many times. I tell him it is okay. I am happy to give him the money. I like to help him. When my paper round is finished, I walk him to the tram stop on the promenade and we smoke a cigarette and wait for the tram. When he gets on it and goes home, I watch it until I can’t see it anymore. I hope he gets home safe and I hope his mum isn’t mad. My dad would be if it was me. He would hit me and make me sit on the dinning chair for hours because he's an idiot. He doesn’t even know I take his money.

  I go to the part where the rocks are and lock my bike up. Then I climb over the railing and sit and smoke my cigarette. I don’t want to go home yet. I want to sit and watch the sea. But I know I can’t be out too late, because my mum will tell my dad, and he will ask why it took me so long.

  When I go home, my dad is there. He is in the lounge. He doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t even say hello. Maybe he knows I came in and stole his money. But he doesn’t say it to me. I don’t ask because then he will know I am a thief. I just go to my room instead. I don’t see my mum or dad all evening. I don’t want to in case they know. It feels like they do. I stay there all evening and later my dad comes upstairs and he opens my door. “Did you see some money that was on the side?” he says to me. “I shake my head. “It’s missing.”

  I feel scared inside. Maybe he knows it is me. Sometimes he asks when he knows and then I am in trouble because I lie too. I ask him if he is going to bed. He says yes. I ask him if I can come too. He says yes and he holds the door open. He doesn’t shout when I have sex with him. He won’t ask about the money.

  I am bad and disgusting. I wish I could go away forever.

  Sixty

  I like cooking class. I like to learn how to do things and then maybe I can make them at home when I am allowed to cook. But my mum doesn’t eat them. Not even when I bring them home from school, because I made them and I am dirty. She thinks they will be infected. I am not allowed to touch food at home that she is going to eat. Just things in tins. I have bread and cereal that is mine. It isn’t special, but it means I don’t have to touch any of the others. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t eat much anymore. I am too fat. I eat too much and I make everything wrong. Sometimes my stomach rumbles and I laugh at it. It is good when it rumbles, it means I am hungry and then I don’t eat anything at all.

  Today we are making pizza. We have to make it ourselves and pick what goes on it. We have to make a poster for it too, for a new pizza. Then people will want to buy it. Me and Karl are making our pizza together. Chris and Lewis make theirs too. We all sit around the same table.

  Me and Karl just make ours with lots of different things on the top. We couldn’t bring anything in to put on it. My mum and dad don’t like to buy food for school and he didn’t ask his mum. So we get things from the canteen to do it. Chris says it looks like Karl’s face. Karl has lots of spots. I tell Chris to shut up, he has rabbit teeth. “Maybe your mum humped the rabbits when no one was looking,” I say to him.

  Chris always says nasty things. Sometimes I just wish he would get lost. I like to say nasty things back to him to make him shut up. I always win the arguments because he says stupid things that don’t make any sense. Sometimes when me and Chris see each other, we race and then see who can hit who the hardest and first. I punch him in the stomach. I hate it sometimes when he does it to me and it hurts because my dad had sex with me the night before. Then it makes me feel sick from it. Everything hurts. But I usually get Chris first and then he can’t hit me.

  Karl doesn’t say anything about Chris saying his face was like pizza. It would make me mad if it was me and then I would hit Chris. He is just stupid. I don’t say anything else. Me and Karl make our pizza and I ask him to put it in the oven because it hurts a little bit when I walk from my dad. I don’t want to bend down. I don’t want it to start bleeding and then it goes through my pants and everyone sees it.

  Karl picks up the tray and walks to the oven. He bends down very slowly. I can see his face. He looks like he is going to cry again. I ask him if he is okay. He nods and puts the pizza in the oven. “It is just hot in here,” he says to me. But I don’t believe him. I think he is going to cry. When we go back to our table, Chris thinks it is funny to throw water at me. I throw it back at him and then I move fast behind Karl. I catch his back by accident. I don’t mean to. I don’t want to hurt him, but he jumps from it and shouts. Then he runs out of the classroom.

  I didn’t mean to make him upset. I run after him out of the classroom. I don’t listen when the teacher tells me to stop. Karl goes all the way to our ditch. He is very hard to catch because I can’t run very fast today. When I get to the ditch, he is crying. He tells me to go away. I stand at the other side and ask him what is wrong, but he says I have to leave him alone. He cries so much it gives him the hiccups.

  I climb across the ditch. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. I didn’t mean to do something bad. He says I didn’t. It was an accident. He lifts his shirt and jumper up and turns around. Then he pulls it back down and looks down. His back is all red and cut and bruised. He has many marks from his mum. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make them hurt. I didn’t know that his mum had hit him. She has hit him very bad. They look like they are bleeding. I tell him we should go inside and clean them up. We can go in the toilets and put water on them. He nods.

  We climb out of the ditch and sneak in the door that is next to the science block. It is dark in there and no one will see us. We lock the door so no one else can come in and see us. Then Karl takes his shirt and jumper off. He has marks at the front too. He has them on his arms.

  “I tried to stop her hitting me,” he says. “But she hit my arms.”

  “She was mad?”

  He nods. “She wanted to go out, but my sister isn’t well so I had to make dinner. I don’t know how to do it. I made beans on toast. She didn’t want beans on toast so she chucked it at the wall and it made a mark,” he says. “It is all my fault.” He tries not to cry, but his eyes get red again and some of it comes out.

  I tell him it wasn’t his fault. “Your mum is just mean.” She shouldn’t hit him. I wish she didn’t. It makes me feel sad inside about it. Maybe he cries when he is all alone and no one helps him. I wish he could live at my house and live in my room too, and then she can’t hurt him anymore. He could be my brother and no one would hurt him.

  “I am too scared to go home,” he says.

  “Maybe we should tell Mr. Royal,” I say to him. “He is very nice.” I tell him that his mum isn’t supposed to hit him. He
is scared about telling Mr. Royal. But it is okay. Mr. Royal is nice. Karl doesn’t want to get into trouble, but I tell him he won’t. Then his mum will have to stop the hitting. Maybe she will get to have someone help her.

  I wish I could tell Mr. Royal about my mum and dad. But I don’t. I am not brave like Karl is. Karl doesn’t want to tell Mr. Royal. I say I can tell him. He doesn’t have to say it. He doesn’t want to get his mum into trouble. He starts to cry again. I don’t like it when he cries. I see lots of people hug other people when they cry. But I don’t like to do it. It makes me feel funny inside because I don’t like to touch people. What if I try to hug him, and then he tells me to go away because he wants me to get my filthy arms off him like my mum?

  I wait for him to finish crying and I get him some tissues. I help him to put his shirt back on because he can’t move his arms all the way back. We walk to Mr. Royal’s room. Karl stays behind me. He doesn’t want to see Mr. Royal. I knock on the door. He doesn’t have any class to teach. Mr. Royal tells me to come in. Karl hides and stays outside.

  I tell Mr. Royal I want to tell him something. He sits down and I stand there. I don’t know how to say it. The words are very hard to say. I wish I could tell him about me too. Mr. Royal says it’s okay; whatever it is, I should just say it. I tell him about Karl. I say that his mum hits him. Karl is at the door. I wave for him to come in. He does, but he looks at the floor. He doesn’t look at us. I pull Karl all the way into the classroom and turn him around, then I lift up his shirt and show Mr. Royal. “His mum hit him,” I say to Mr. Royal.

  “Did your mum do that?” Mr. Royal asks Karl. “It is okay to tell me.” Karl nods and then he starts to cry again. Mr. Royal gives him some tissue too, and then he tells us to sit down and he pulls out some chairs. I tell Mr. Royal all about it and Karl nods and says some things, but he doesn’t say a lot.

  “We have to go to the office,” Mr. Royal says to me. “Will you be okay to go back to your classroom?” I nod. He writes a note for me and tells me to give it to the teacher. I walk with Karl and Mr. Royal for a little bit until we get to the main part of the school. Mr. Royal says that I did a very good thing in telling him. He says thank you to me for it. I feel sad inside. I wish I could tell Mr. Royal about everything. I wish he looked after me too.

  Maybe I can say the words, but I don’t know how to. I can’t make them come out of my mouth when I try. I don’t want my mum and dad to get into trouble, and I don’t want them to go to jail. Karl’s mum should go to jail. She is very bad. But my mum and dad aren’t bad. They just do bad things.

  I can’t tell anyone because they don’t understand. They will think my mum and dad do things because it is on purpose. But it isn’t. It is because of me, because I am so fat and stupid, but I try to make the fat go away and I try not to be so stupid. I go back to my class.

  When my cooking class is finished, Mr. Royal comes back to get Karl’s things. I have put them all in his bag anyway. Lewis had taken our pizza out of the oven. I put half in a box and give it to Mr. Royal for Karl too. “Is he okay?” I ask Mr. Royal.

  “Yes,” Mr. Royal says, and he tells me that Karl won’t be in school tomorrow, and he might not come back. I ask if I can say goodbye and he says yes.

  I Feel sad because Karl is going away. I wish he didn’t have to. I will miss him very much. I walk home from school and I try not to cry about it. He has gone away. He knew what it was like to have bad things too.

  Sixty One

  (Age Fourteen)

  It is strange that Karl isn’t at school. I walk to the shop in the morning, but he doesn’t come. I do it every day because it feels strange not to do it. But he isn’t ever there. It’s been many weeks now and he has left school. He writes to me too, I know he isn’t at school, but I keep thinking maybe he will come back. Maybe he will surprise me and be there.

  I feel sad about it because I know he isn’t coming back. I hang around with Lewis. But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like something is missing. Karl is living with his uncle in Scotland. He told me all about it in his letter. I was very excited when I got it. Him and his brother and sisters all have to go to a new school.

  I write him a letter back too. I tell him all about school and what everyone is doing. I am glad his mum doesn’t hurt him anymore. She didn’t go to Scotland. She went to London instead. Mr. Royal says he is very happy I told him and he is very happy I could.

  I go to school and it is form time. Mr. Royal does all the normal things, then he asks me to stay behind before I go to class. It makes me scared inside because he says he wants a word with me. When people say that, it means bad things. My dad says it and then I am in trouble. Everyone goes to their classes and I go to Mr. Royal’s desk. I stand back so then he can’t hit me if I am in trouble. I try not to do anything bad. I don’t want to make him mad again like the maths presentation.

  He turns around in his chair, but he doesn’t stand up. “This is going to be my last year here,” he says to me. “I have another job near where I live. I wanted to tell you myself before I tell other people.”

  Mr. Royal lives near the city. He has to drive a long way to get to school. I smile at Mr. Royal. I don’t say anything bad about it. I tell him I hope he likes his new job. It feels bad inside that he is going away. It makes me want to be sick and cry. But I don’t tell him. He says he is very excited about it. I keep smiling. I wish he didn’t want to go. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want it to come out and then I look like a baby.

  I didn’t know Mr. Royal wanted to leave. It makes me want to cry inside because it is like a secret. Like my mum and dad do. They arrange to go out and don’t say anything about it. Everyone always wants to go away. No one ever stays. Karl went away too. I walk to my class; I wipe the tears away that keep getting out. I have two more years of school left and there will be no Mr. Royal or Karl. I don’t tell anyone, though. Not even Lewis. If I say it, it will make me cry. They say I am Mr. Royal’s pet, but I don’t care. I like to be. I don’t tell him I am sad at all.

  It went very fast after Mr. Royal told me he is leaving. I didn’t tell anyone and I didn’t talk about it. It makes me sad when I think about it. He only has two months left now. It has gone too fast. We have our options appointment today. I am excited about that. I worked very hard so I could pick all the right subjects to get into medical school. I have A’s in everything so that I can pick all the right subjects on the options sheet.

  I stand outside the office. I am very nervous about it. The teacher shouts me in and says it’s my turn. She tells me to sit on the seat next to her and she asks me what I want to do when I leave school. I tell her I want to be a doctor. I am going to get my A-levels and then go to medical school. She smiles about it. She has my school report. It has all the A’s on it. “You are one of the highest students in the year,” she says to me. “A lot of the subjects you have chosen have a big queue of people for them. So we haven’t been able to give everyone what they want, but we have tried our best.”

  She shows me the list with the number of places and the number of people that want to choose them too. “We looked at your grades,” she says to me. “You do well in every subject so you have two choices. We believe you will do well in whatever subjects you take.”

  She tells me I can take the higher science. But if I take that, I have to take different lower classes and not the subjects I chose. Or I can take the higher classes my subjects and not do the science. But I need the higher classes for all of them. I need to get A’s. I can’t get A’s in the lower classes. I need all the subjects.

  I don’t know what to say to her. I need them all. I need the science. Doctors have to have science. But I need all the others too, or I can’t go to medical school. I have to do higher Maths and English. My mum’s doctor said so. I ask her if I can please do the science with the Maths and English and change the others. “I really need it.”

  She shakes her head. “We have already set the places out.”

 
I can’t stop shaking inside. I want to cry, but I don’t. I keep it away. I can’t go to medical school if I don’t have the maths, English and science together. I whisper that I will do the others and not the science. She smiles at me and gives me the paper I have to sign. I don’t want to sign it. I don’t want to do any of it. But I do. My hand shakes when I try, I am going to cry, but I don’t let her see it.

  I tell her thank you, then I leave the office. I don’t talk to anyone. Karl has left. Mr. Royal is leaving and now I can’t go to medical school. I run down the stairs and out of the school. I don’t stop when someone shouts my name. I don’t care it isn’t home time yet. I run out of the gates. I run as fast as I can. I run so fast it makes my legs hurt, but I don’t care. I run along the road all the way to the end, and then I run up the hill. I am crying when I run. My legs ache, but I don’t stop. “Stupid, stupid. I hate you,” I say to myself. “I am stupid. I don’t get to do anything, ever. Because I am me. Because no one likes me. I can’t be a doctor.

  I can’t breathe when I get to the top. I try, but my throat is dry and it makes me cough. I am nearly sick from it. I hate everyone. I hate me. I go into the Rock Gardens that is next to school. It is a big place. Sometimes me and Lewis go there at lunchtimes so the teachers don’t see us. We hide in there and smoke. I run in there and all the way down the hill. The hill is steep and sharp, but I don’t stop. I don’t care if I fall. I don’t care if I fall from the path and die.

  When I fall over at the bottom, my hands bash down on the path, it hurts, but I don’t care. Good. It should hurt. Everything should always hurt. I wish I bashed my face and not my hands. I wish I smashed my head in. I want everything to hurt. I crawl to the side and lie there and cry until I can't breathe. It is all gone.

  Sixty Two