The other side.
We begin our story outside a large house in the middle of London, the house had watched many disturbed young people walk through its doors, and had watched even more walk out again, the owner of the house, a certain Miss Huffield, hated all children, in every size manner and form, yet for some reason she still chose to open a home for thirty teenagers labelled ‘disturbed’.
Let us zoom in. There is a brass number 7 stuck on the door, surrounded by cracked and peeling paint. Next to the door was a metal plaque, inscribed with the words ‘Huffield’s home for disturbed young people’. Needless to say, none of the ‘young people’ who entered that door really appreciated that plaque. There are window boxes hanging from all the windows, but the flowers within were brown and withered, apart from one box, which is filled with deep black roses, which seem to be thriving.
A car pulls up outside the house, one of those large seven seaters, deemed ‘family safe’ by all. The door if the house is flung open, and a short thin woman, not unlike a rat, steps out of the door.
“Oh, Mrs Donaldson I am SO glad that you can have them” Miss Huffield says, the car door opens, and a twenty something girl steps out of the car. She is wearing tight black clothes, which contrast sharply with her pale skin and pale coloured eyes, she looks at Miss Huffield over a pair of sunglasses.
“Where are they?” She says in a cold smooth voice.
Miss Huffield seems flustered by this young person, she was expecting someone older, with more ‘experience’.
“Oh, they are right here, girls!” She calls over her shoulder. Three teenage girls step out of the door in unison, managing to fit through at once due to their thinness. The first, taller then the other two, looks down at Miss Huffield with a look akin to disgust.
“We have names” She said, pushing long brown hair behind her ears and blinking slowly. Miss Huffield shuffled.
“Come now, say hello to Mrs Donaldson”
“’Sup?” The girl said, then she turned and re-entered the house, emerging some seconds later with a small black suitcase, she swung it round and flung it down the stairs, barely missing Miss Huffield.
“Come on you two” Miss Huffield says, “Get your suitcases”
The other two sigh dramatically, and one leans against the metal fencing surrounding the stairs and starts to bite at a hangnail, she is wearing a long black coat, which hides most of her scrawny body, and she looks at the world through a pair of blue rectangular glasses, behind which are two piercing greeny grey eyes.
“Technically” She says in an accent which is a mixture of Cockney and something else which no one can detect, “Technically ‘tis your job to see us off, wouldn’t getting our suitcases be a part of that?”
Miss Huffield shakes her head.
“You get your own suitcase missy, I won’t have any more cheek from you” The girl sighs and her sister, for they are sisters, grins and disappears. Miss Huffield blinks, as if she just missed something, and in the second that she disappeared the other girl reappears, holding two more small black suitcases.
This other girl is smaller than the other two, and she handles herself like a boy would, with an awkward sort of confidence, she grins and hands the suitcase to the hooded girl.
“There you go Cat” She says, still grinning. Cat winks and walks down the stairs.
Miss Huffield gapes at them, and then lets them past.
The car door is slid open by ‘Mrs Donaldson’. The girls pile in, then slide the door shut just as Miss Huffield hurries forward to say a few words.
Cat pokes her tongue out and Miss Huffield takes a step backwards and waves weakly Mrs Donaldson begins to climb in the driver’s seat. She remembers something.
“You may want to reconsult their files!” she says, in the back of the car the girls start laughing, the taller one winds down her windows.
“We never existed” She says, waving and grinning.
“There never was a Sherlock, There never was a Kineta and there never was a Cat” The younger girl says, leaning out too.
“You forgot to take your pills” Cat says, her head squashed between the other two’s.
Mrs Donaldson, who by now, Miss Huffield had realised did not have the bob cut brown hair or the round spectacles of the real Mrs Donaldson, starts the car up.
“Fare well you stinking-“ Kineta’s head is pulled back by her other sister Sherlock, who grins and says:
“Sadist” Before winding the window up again.
The car began pulling out of the parking spot. Behind Miss Huffield, the black roses whither and black petals sink slowly to the ground.
“There never was a Sherlock, there never was a Kineta, there never was a Cat” Miss Huffield mutters to herself, turning away from the car, and the laughing girls inside it. She walks slowly up the stairs and into the house, the door slowly creaks shut. The car, disappears around a corner.