Read Gone for Free Online Page A

how to answer, so I don’t. I pick my stick back up and start to draw some more.
     

    TWELVE DAYS TO GO
    Bridge Cottage
    St Agnes
    Cornwall
    15th August 2014
    Dear E,
    Yesterday I had to suffer the pain of taking Em around the shops. Painful. Everyone stared at me. I mean I knew they would, but the whole damn street practically came to a halt to look at me. Haven’t they seen fishnets before? Em was completely oblivious, but the experience only reaffirmed what I already knew. I need to leave ASAP. I don’t know what Mum and Dad were thinking bringing me to a place this small. If I stood out like a sore thumb in London, what the hell am I going to do here? I was expecting someone to shout “Tramp” at me. I even regretted burning all my normal clothes after you left. I do still have my skinny jeans but it was way too hot for them. I would have melted into a puddle.
    We went to the art shop, Em’s idea of course. Guess who was in there? The dreadlock guy! Oh my god he was so rude! You would have had a few sarky comments to make back to him. I just stood there bright red under his death stare before running away. I’ve never met anyone quite that rude before, which is saying something!
    I had another row with Mum and Dad during, ‘Family Healing Time’. Apparently it’s not acceptable for me to accuse the locals of being inbreds. I tried to explain about the obnoxious guy at the shop but they just looked at me like I must have started it in the first place. Which for once I didn’t. I promise.
    Dad wanted to talk about you. He seemed to think that the change of scene should help me let go. Wait for this! He suggested that I should try and leave a few bangles off ... just to see if it helps me forget. Like I could forget you. Like I would even want to.
    So I stormed out again. It was either that or go and sit in the naughty corner in the attic by myself.
    I went back to the beach and sat there willing the next thirteen days to speed up. Then the rude guy with the dreads just rocked up and sat down on the sand next to me! Uh hello? Who does that? According to him it’s his rock. I think I may not be the only crazy in this town! Somehow he managed to wrangle my name out of me. I didn’t want to tell him. But I did.
    He actually seemed quite nice. Weird but nice. I won’t be telling him anything else about myself though. It’s enough that he knows my name. 
    Miss you as always.
    B.
    xx
     

    Rebecca
    Kissing Arse
    I stare in the mirror and perform my daily label attachment as I slide on my bangles. For every one I remember I have fifty-three reasons why I need to go.
    Glancing at the black shadows under my eyes I can’t help but think of my deep slumber last night. The deepest sleep I’ve had in weeks. Last night when the nightmares came it felt different. I wasn’t dragged into the black hole of my self-conscious. Instead I lingered in a shady area of grey and silver and the voice shouting in my head was kinder, more reproachful than cross.
    “Rebecca, will you just learn to behave and get in the damn car.”
    It must be the sea air making me get all soft. Sitting on the beach last night must have re-wired the nightmare programme in my brain.
    It’s making it very tempting to sit on the beach all night every night, regardless of whether I have company or not.
    I make my way down from the naughty corner and head into the kitchen. “Hey.”
    The Munch Bunch are sitting around the table. Instead of pancakes like yesterday, today we have healthy muesli and berries. I cast my mind back and try to remember Mum having breakfast like this on the table in London. I don’t remember it once. But then we rarely all used to be together. Dad always worked and Mum spent her time running around making sure that Emily got to the right places on time and in one piece. I, well I used to spend my time hanging out in the wrong places with people who I was assured were wrong for me too. I realise that after the situation I found