Sandy Footprints

CRASH!
CRASH!
WHOOSH!
 
A young man collapses on a golden sandy slope as
sparkling waves tumble onto the shore before dragging themselves back out.
 
CRASH!
CRASH!
WHOOSH!
 
The waves continue.
 
As the blazing sunlight breaks through the ocean,
it greets the young man by bathing him in warm rays of light. It illuminates
his dark, bold facial features and his long and unkempt locks of dirty matted
dark hair. This daily greeting of celestial beauty goes unnoticed by all,
excepting the young man, whose daily ritual is to
visit the rising sun.
 
The icy water slides like a loving sheet of liquid
cloth over his bare feet, burnt and broken-skinned from the wear and tear of
daily life. The salty water feels pleasantly refreshing as it rushes over his
upper legs, before scurrying away, back to the ocean where it dwells with unknown
water creatures and surfers.
 
The young man can almost taste the salty air and
as it tantalises his senses, he pulls from around his neck a chain, bland and
dull in the orange light of the rising sun and unable to shine because of its tarnished
and seemingly-unloved status. Dangling from the grey chain is a pendant of
memories heavy with the vulnerablity and one-time camaraderie between the young
man and the person hidden behind the cover of the camouflaging (...)

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*-CHAPTER FOUR-* ---THE COURT BATTLE---

The next few days had been the best of Jono‟s life. He had been fed three times a day
with delicious meals, had a nice bed to sleep in, had a friend, had a new home and had not
been beaten by his father. Boris still went to school in the week. Jono was still awaiting trial.
It was Sunday morning and Andrea Brown was teaching Jono how to cook bacon and eggs.
He wasn‟t that bad at it.
„Now that you have been cooking the bacon in this pan,‟ said Andrea, „You can now
add the eggs.‟ Jono picked up a egg, still in its shell and began to place it in second frying
pan.
„No,‟ said Andrea. Jono stopped holding the egg an inch above the pan. „You need to
crack the shell and remove the egg inside,‟ she said patiently. Showing him with another egg
by first tapping it lightly against the rim of the pan then holding the two sides and pulling
them apart. The egg yolk dropped onto the surface of the pan.
„Don‟t worry. You‟ll get it,‟ said Andrea, looking at Jono. „Have a go,‟ Jono tried to
mimic Andrea. He managed to first crack the egg then release the yolk into the pan next to
the other yolk.
Later as the family were eating Andrea and Jono‟s bacon and eggs, they had their
normal family discussion. They talked about various different things that had been happening
during the week.
„There are rumours going around at school,‟ Boris addressed (...)

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*-CHAPTER THREE-* ---A NEW HOME---

Once they had finally reached Mr Phillipson‟s office, Mr Phillipson said to his
secretary, „Hold all of my calls.‟
„Yes sir.‟ replied the secretary.
Mr Phillipson still held Jono by the scruff of his shirt, he opened the door of his office
and ordered, „Get in!‟ and let go of Jono. He didn‟t need telling twice so he walked into the
office. Mr Phillipson‟s office was a large square room with numerous framed paintings
hanging on the walls. Towards the far end there was a dark wood desk with family photos, a
wooden name-plate announcing „PQ Phillipson BS‟ and an open laptop computer. There
were packed bookshelves lining the wall behind the desk and a large filing cabinet next to the
desk.
„Sit down,‟ said Mr Phillipson, gesturing to the seat opposing his desk. Jono sat down
and said nothing. He knew that he would be in less trouble if he said nothing until he was
asked a question.
„You attacked a senior student,‟ Mr Phillipson said accusingly to Jono, pacing around
the room.
Jono was surprised at the accusatory tone in which Mr Phillipson spoke. Mr
Phillipson usually addressed the students with as much respect as the teachers. He was in his
late forties and a little on the short side at about five-foot-nine-inches. His light ginger hair
was wispy and combed over with a small bald patch on top of his head, with a beard which
was the same (...)

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Chapter Two - The New Kid

Jono’s school
combined junior and senior students from Year Seven through to Year Twelve, he
was in Year Eleven. Just as Jono rolled through the gates, the school bell
rang.
‘Get off of that
thing!’ ordered a teacher, ‘NOW GREEN!’ Jono got off skateboard without
replying. He pulled out his timetable and checked what class he had next when –
BAM! He had walked into Veronica Frix, the girl that he had had a crush on last
year.
Veronica is a cute
girl with long sleek brunette hair, large green eyes, small pointed nose, and
olive skin. At five-foot-eight inches, she had a slim figure with nice long
legs, small hands and perfectly shaped breasts. Veronica was wearing black
volleys with fluoro pink laces, a short blue denim skirt, a tightly fitted sky
blue singlet top and an unzipped black jacket.
‘Oh, sorry Jono,’
Veronica said, blushing pink, ‘I didn’t mean to... er, you know walk into you.’
Jono opened his mouth
but no sound came out so he closed it again. She is so beautiful, He thought.
‘Are you okay?’
Veronica said, looking worried.
‘Er- What? Yeah I’m
okay,’ stuttered Jono.
‘Are you sure?’ she
said soothingly, touching his shoulder.
‘Ah!’ Jono breathed,
he pulled his shoulder away, holding it gingerly.
‘What’s wrong with
your shoulder?’ said Veronica, while (...)

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Chapter One - A Day Like Any Other

            ‘GET
UP!’ screamed a voice from somewhere nearby. ‘GET UP YA UNGRATEFUL LITTLE
BASTARD!’ came the same voice while a pair of hands grabbed the boy and lifted
him off a mouldy mattress shaking him awake.
‘LET GO OF ME!’
bellowed back the boy.
‘WHY DID YA TAKE ALL
O’ ME BOOZE?’ the man yelled.
‘I DIDN’T TOUCH YA BOOZE!’
the boy replied.
The man threw the boy
over the mouldy mattress and turned stupidly to leave room, leaving him
sprawled on the floor.
As the boy tried to
recover from this wakeup call, he remembered what day it was – Monday, and that
meant that he was supposed to be going back to school after the summer break.
He rubbed his eyes, thinking about what it would be like to have a father who
wasn’t blind drunk all of the time. The boy’s name was Jonathan Green, but
everyone called him “Jono”. Those who hated him called him “Jono The Psycho”.
Jono was seventeen,
on the verge of turning eighteen. His birthday on the 13th of
February always leaves him feeling depressed and flat. He knows that no one
ever does anything to mark the occasion.
But almost nothing
infuriated Jono more than how his parents treated him! Even on his birthday his
father, Darren Green, won’t stop beating him up.
While his father is
Anglo Saxon, his mother, Alkina Green is an (...)

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