When I stepped off the bottom step I was completely out of breath and red in the face. I took the baby out of the baby carrier attached to my front and placed her in the buggy. I was glad to see that Emmy and Jake were waiting patiently at the foot of the stairs for me playing hop scotch or some such game and hadn't run out into the road like so many other children had done before. They learnt to wait, to do as they were told and generally just be good. Which was a godsend for me.
I took the bag of baby things off the handles of the buggy where it had been tied and looked through it quickly: nappies, bottle, and change of clothes, bibs and teddy. Good, everything seemed to be there. I couldn’t count the number of times I've gotten all the way down and had to turn around and do it all over again. So I slung the baby bag over my school back pack and pushed the buggy along, a child clinging onto each arm. I looked around me and saw how well I blended in: just another teenager walking along with a few children. I had a seven year old on one arm, a five year old on the other and a baby screeching in front of me. I saw other mum's walking along with screaming babies or naughty children. All scolding them and hurrying along to get to school or nursery: to get to work to earn enough money to go out and do the same thing all over again tomorrow. They'd probably all come from council flats like me where at least one of the parents is missing and the walls are so thin you cant sleep. Where the lifts don’t work and dogs bark or music blares constantly. They'd probably woken up wondering where someone was. Maybe it was a sister like mine or a husband or a father or a mother. I wonder if they're all out they're drinking their dole money away like Hatty is. I fit in so well with all these people. Infact the only difference between me and all the other teenage mums are that these kids aren’t mine. I think I'm probably one of the only 14 year olds in my entire block of flats who hasn't got a kid, had a kid, pregnant or spaced out on drugs. I'm proud of that.
Part two
"Hi Jo, hi Jill." I shouted across the playground as I walked into school. Wiping the sweat from my forehead cause by the run I'd just done. Jo and Jill smiled across at me and began slowly walking over. Stepping forward at exactly the same time and linking arms as ever. Jo and Jill Maywood were identical twins, everything from their neatly combed red hair to there scuffed black shoes was the same and even I, their oldest friend, couldn't tell them apart.
"Hey, how's it goin'?" One asked once they reached me.
"Yeah s'ok." Told them. "Just the usual." The nodded knowingly, having spent many nights at my house and experienced the joys of my family. Even though they didn't have to go through it all them selves they had a good idea of how tough it was from when I occasionally phoned them up in tears complaining how I couldn’t cope any more. At these times they are always more than willing to come round and help. It's not like they have to travel far as they live a few minutes away in a slightly nicer block of flats with their dad. They've been living there ever since there mum died when they were 5. Well they say that she died but there's always been a rumour going round that she ran off with the girl's uncle.
We talked about nothing in particular for a few more minutes. Just chatting about our up coming maths test and how badly we did on the last one: then over walked Michelle Anderson and her gang. Michelle had always hated me from the first moment she walked in the school. And being the most popular kid in the place of course all the others decided that they hated me as well. I think that the reason she hated me with such passion was that she thought I was an easy target. I'm small and thin for my age and she decided that I would be the one to give into her demands easiest- I don’t of course and I get a good kicking because of it.
Michelle looked particularly intimidating today with her tiny skirt riding up higher and higher up her legs as she walked. Her grey school sweatshirt tied around her waist, and above it a slightly torn used to be white shirt. Her straggly black hair fell round her face, knotted and dirty as ever. She wore her chunky boots that she usually kicked me with and slightly ripped grey tights. I took a deep breath as she stopped a few feet away: I had a feeling she wasn't just dropping by for a friendly chat.
"You done my home work?" She yelled at me in her usual aggressive manner. Her arms folded across her chest and her legs apart, looking even bigger than she was. I stared down at the ground, not daring to look up, as she'd instantly know that I hadn't.
"Well have you?" She insisted. I shook my head sadly. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten to do her English, it wasn't even hard but it'd completely slipped my mind.
"And why ain't you dunnit?" She asked as she took a step towards me and I took three to try and put some distance between us.
"Well," I said as calmly as I could "I had loads to do last night as my sister and mum were out and the baby was crying like hell and I just didn't have enough time. I'm really sorry." I said, getting quieter and quieter. She didn't say anything for a minute or two but I could tell that she was really mad at me.
Without taking my eyes off the floor I stepped forward and began walking quietly through all of the kids that surrounded me in the hope of getting into the safety of school. I got a few meters away from her and I thought that maybe she'd let it drop. Just let me walk away. I slowed down my pace and even stopped for a second to let the twins catch me up before I heard the angry yell coming from behind me.
"Oy," She yelled. "Where do you fink your going? I ain't finished with you yet." I heard her and her troops start walking towards me but I carried on and didn't look back. I really didn't want to get in a fight today.
"You fink your so much better than us, dunt you?" She called after me. "With your posh voice and la-de-de's. Just because you're in top set for all your stuff don’t make you better than us." She said: at which her crowed murmured in agreement.
"You fink you’re the best at everything but your mum and your sister don’t even want to be any where near you." I stopped. I turned round and faced her.
"My mum has to work. She doesn't choose to: if she could be at home she would."
"Yeah right. And what about your sister, she working too?" She asked and all the other kids laughed. I felt my face go red as it always did when I was ashamed.
"Yes, she does actually." I said, trying to sound confident even though I knew that she'd see through my lies.
"I saw your sis yesterday." She said as I turned to walk off. "She was walking the streets with all her little hooker friends. Is that what you call work? Or does she just do it for fun?"
"What did you say?" I asked angrily as Jo and Jill tried to calm me down.
"What's up?" she asked with mock concern. "Didn't you know how your sister earns her money? Didn't she tell you she was a whore? It must run in the family."
"Shut up about my sister." I said as tears trickled down my face. I brushed them away as quickly as I could, I didn't want her to see she'd upset me.
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