Bebo

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	Soggy Sergeant Bob...
	“What do you mean, we’re moving to New York?!” I shouted angrily as I stood, watching Mum prancing around the kitchen, stuffing pots and pans into boxes and trying to stop my baby brother from eating his toy soldiers. What the hell does she mean anyway? I can’t move now, what about my friends? What about my life?! “Oh come now Liza, you knew it would happen sooner or later. We need to move, for your father. I don’t see the point of us staying here when he spends most of his time out there, for that stupid business. Joe-Joe honey, please don’t eat Sergeant Bob,” she said, sighing almost as she took the poor, drool soaked soldier from Joe’s mouth and threw him in one of the boxes. At this Joe began to screech loudly, stomping his feet as tears began streaming down his chubby cheeks. For such a small kid, at only three foot something and five years old, he makes more noise than me, and that’s a lot. “Did you not stop to think what this will do to me?! My friends, my life, bloody hell… even my school work. I’m in the middle of my options; you can’t pull me away from that!” Well, I never thought I’d say that anytime soon. But I’m desperate. “Don’t worry, I’ve phoned a high school over there, near where we’re moving and they said that they have the same lessons over there and you can stay behind and catch up on the work they’re already doing. You’ll be fine,” she stopped for a few seconds and beamed over at me, cheeks rosy red as she panted softly, tired from running around packing. Packing…? Wait, why the hell is she packing? You don’t pack on the day that you’ve told your daughter that you’re dragging her away to a foreign place, away from sanity and her life and friends. Plus, what does she mean; she’s phoned a high school over there? And near to where we’re moving? No… she couldn’t have arranged it all already? Not before she discussed it with us? “Mum, when exactly are we moving out there? Although I’m warning you now, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll live on the streets if I have to, don’t make me leave.” I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring a bit I realised now, as I watched her seal up a box with duct tape and scribble “Pans” on the side in marker pen. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sorry Liza, but you’re coming whether you like it or not. We’ll be shipping our things out on Thursday and flying out on the Friday.” “What? But its Tuesday now, that means I’ll be leaving in… three days! You expect me to say goodbye in three days! What the hell!” I know I’m shouting at her and I shouldn’t, but what does she expect? “Liza, you don’t have that many friends.” I growled as my older brother, Zach, pushed past me into the kitchen, yawning like a hippo and stretching his arms above his head. People say that me and him look the same and to be honest, we do. We both have bright green eyes and we both have auburn hair, except Zach dyes his bright red and grows it long. He’s about six inches taller than me, even though he’s a year older, at sixteen and we both have the same personality. Except I’m not a complete and utter self obsessed idiot. “Shut up! Hey, did you know about this New York thing?” “Yeah, I’ve known about it for a couple of weeks now. Why?” He looked at me, a smirk on his face. He knew I had only just found out and he loved it. “Mum! What the hell… why have I only just found out about it? That is so unfair. I’m not going! I’m not!” I fought the urge to stomp my foot on the ground, and it was hard, I can tell you. “Oh yes you are. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this. It will be a new experience for all of us Liza, so stop making a fuss and start getting your things together. Then tomorrow, you can let everyone know at school and say your goodbyes. Okay?” She had that ‘don’t even start’ look on her face, and I knew not to mess with her. It didn’t mean that I was going though. No way. I won’t even pack my stuff. I’ll just go and listen to some music in my room, maybe even do some homework. I didn’t say anything else, just turned around and ran up the stairs to my room. I heard my Mum complaining and cramming more pots and pans into another box, while my brothers got in the way. My bedroom is like my sanctuary. It’s the smallest room in the whole house, but I don’t care because I don’t have to share it with anyone and was allowed to have it decorated however I wanted. So it’s orange and yellow, with green spots on the two yellow walls. I know it sounds a little drastic, but I love it and anyway, you can hardly see the walls for all of the posters which are plastered around the room. Some are for bands, some are for festivals I’ve been to, some are for films and then dotted around, are pictures of me and my friends. The walls are like collages of my life. But now, that’s gonna be ripped down, stomped on and then set on fire, never to be seen or recognised again! All because of Dad’s stupid advertising job in New York. I let out a small, annoyed screech and walked over to my stereo, slipping in my Daft Punk CD and turning up the volume, so my room vibrated. I like techno music, anything that beeps to be honest. But I’m not really that techno myself, I’m actually pretty plain. My hair is auburn and hangs in curls and frizz and my eyes are bright green. I’m not really slim, but I don’t think I’m fat either. I’d say I was chubby or ‘curvy’ as my Gran sometimes puts it. As I walked over to my desk, I picked up a photo frame and sighed heavily as I saw the picture inside. It was from last summer and me and the ‘crew’, as I call them, were in the park all day, and at the end we had a water fight. It was great and if I look close enough, I can see the line of sunburn on my arms. We’re all soaked to the bone, but we’re grinning like lunatics and there I am, stood on a tree stump behind us, laughing my head off as me and Sandy struggle to stand on it together. It’s making me teary. Oh dear. I quickly put the photo on my bed and sit down at my desk, pulling out a sheet of paper from the compartment underneath and taking a pencil from the pot. Okay, I need a plan and I need it fast. What am I going to do? Maybe I could run away with the circus. Hmm, that’s an idea, I thought as I scribbled it down on the lined paper. I could stay over at Sandy’s house for a week and then go and stay at Carla’s. Yeah, that’d work; I could flit from house to house and get a job, then save up some money and get my own place. I scribbled that down too and sat, chewing the end of the pencil, pondering on the thought of eloping when my door squeaked open and someone walked into my room. I let out a sigh and growled a little, swivelling around in my chair, to be faced by Zach. He walked over and turned my stereo off, turning to look at me with his arms crossed. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy… with homework?” I said, quickly turning the piece of paper over to face the desk. “Look shut up. You’re acting like a little brat. Don’t you think it’s hard enough for Mum to move over there, just for Dad’s sake, without you giving her even more hassle? Yeah, yeah, it hurts that we’ve got to move out there, I know. You’re not the only one leaving behind friends and stuff. But you’ve just got to get on with it. You’ll make new friends so stop being such a stuck up little cow and start packing.” He didn’t raise his voice once, but it scared me. Even though me and my brother play fight and say sarcastic stuff to each other, we get on quite well and he tends to be there for me when I need him. I guess I look up to him. I’d never in a million years admit that to him, but he knows. “Right… yes, okay. I’ll do it in a minute…” I was stuttering a little as I turned around slowly in my seat, to look back at the desk. He didn’t say anything else, but he hesitated at the door for a couple of minutes, and then walked out swinging the door shut behind him. The bang made me jump as I sat silently, digesting what he’d just said to me. Will I make new friends? I like my old friends, nothing will change that, but will we lose touch? I stood up and put my pencil back in the pot, screwing up the ideas for running away and throwing them in my waste bin. Opening my door I saw that Mum had left a pile of cardboard boxes and black bags at the door, which I had passed earlier without a second glance. I picked one up, miserably I must add, and walked into my room putting it on my bed as I began gathering up all my little trinkets and junk which decorated my bed side drawers and desk. I didn’t look at any of the photos in the frames as I carefully put them all into the boxes, wrapping some things in newspaper. I filled that box in ten minutes and glanced into it, taking in the sight of music boxes, photo frames and little ornaments bundled together, some wrapped in newspaper, some just wedged into a corner. I won’t be seeing these again until at least Saturday and then I’ll be over seas, in America. Wonderful, I though with absolutely no enthusiasm as I reached for the tape and pulled a large strip across the small gap, when the flaps were shut, snipping it off with my teeth. I scribbled in purple crayon,”LIZA”, across the side and carried it across to the door, putting it on the floor, ready to be taken away. Now my books need to be packed up. I’m a bit of a geek when it comes to books and I have a whole book case in the corner of my room, full of books and annuals, things like that. I’ll need about four boxes, I thought as I dragged in four cardboard boxes and put them on the floor in front of my bookcase, looking it up and down and letting out a gusty sigh. Start with the top shelf Liza and work your way down I told myself, reaching up and taking the biggest books down first, putting them carefully into a cardboard box, stacking the smaller books on top and around them. Okay, that’s one shelf done, now all the others. I turned my music back on, but didn’t turn it up that loud and walked back to the book shelf, working quicker now as I filled all four of the boxes with books then sealed them all with tape, scribbling my name on each of them. Groaning with effort, I carried them across to the other box and stacked them up. By the time I had packed my clothes and all my other things, including the posters and pictures which had once wallpapered the four walls of my room, leaving out my school clothes and books for the next day, it was nine o’clock and my stomach was rumbling, begging for food. I yawned loudly and stretched, looking at the pile of ten boxes and three black bags standing at my door, and then sweeping my gaze over my near empty room. It looked so big, especially now all the posters were stashed away in boxes. My stomach rumbled again, louder this time, catching my attention and telling me that food is a dire need at the moment. I yawned again and walked out of the room, casting a sideways glance to all of my boxed belongings before walking down the stairs quietly, ‘cause Joe will be asleep. I walked past the door of the living room, which was open a little, letting out the sound of Jimmy Carr and the theme song of 8 Out Of Ten Cats and headed straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge door and peering in, the light inside lighting up the kitchen, which was dark and quiet. I took out a small tub of pasta salad and shut the door, sitting up on the worktop and finding a fork, piercing a piece of penne and popping it in my mouth quietly, savouring the tomato and herb sauce. I need to think about what I’m going to tell everyone. I mean, it’s going to be a shock, surely. That I leave in three days and to think, they will only see me for two of those days. In the awful place called school. I closed my eyes a minute, bottling up the anger and hurt I was feeling and popped two more pieces of penne in my mouth, chewing them thoughtfully. I know I’m upset about it and everything, but I’m also scared. I’ve seen programmes on television and heard things about American schools that scare me. I mean, the bullies over there are vicious, although I have never been bullied in my life and then there are people like cheerleaders and jocks. I can tell I will be in the ‘nerd’ category. I finished the rest of the pasta salad quietly and washed the fork and tub, putting them beside a box and walking to the living room door, poking my head around the side and looking in to find Mum and Zach sitting on the sofa and arm chair, eyes glued to the set quietly. They weren’t saying anything to each other, and now, I could see that Zach was upset. His eyes were sending icy glares into the television screen and every now and then, his hand would grip the arm of the chair. I walked in quietly and sat on the floor, resting my back against the sofa and sprawling my legs out, stifling a yawn and stealing a sip of Zach’s cola. He looked at me for a minute, and then just looked back at the television, sighing softly. “I packed my stuff. All of the boxes are at my door. I’ve just left out stuff that I’ll need for the next couple of days.” I said quietly, not looking at Mum or Zach, keeping my eyes on the screen. Mum didn’t say anything for a while, just sat quietly and then reached out, ruffling my hair gently and sweeping a small strand from my face. “That’s good, hon. Thank you…” I could tell she was smiling a little as she talked and I just sighed softly, moving my foot to wrestle with Zach’s quietly as we watched the television together.
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