Fabo writing

My favourite place in the world is the second-hand shop in Main Street. It’s crammed to the ceiling with all sorts of stuff. In fact, things hang from the ceiling too, like paper lanterns and the stuffed crocodile that always seems to be staring at me no matter where I am in the shop.

Mr Gee sits behind the counter, reading a newspaper and ignoring me. That’s one of the best things about this place—Mr Gee never talks to me unless I talk to him first, even on the days when I’ve spent hours here, reading or touching objects, while waiting for my dad to come and get me. The other thing I like is that there’s always something new to find.

Today, I walk past the old comics, the bin of plastic babies and the display of Star Wars toys, some of which are still ‘mint in box’—at least, that’s what it says on the sign beneath it.

Just past the musical penguins section is an old red wooden box that I’ve never seen before. A dragon is carved into the lid. Just as I touch it, I hear the front door of the shop open…

It was Dad. He saw me touching the box and his face turned from the jolly old man I knew to a man whose temper was set off by the smallest things. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the store. I shouted goodbye as loud as I could to Mr. Gee who was stocking the musical penguins. He’s part deaf so he probably didn’t hear me.

I was shoved into the back of the car. My dad got in and turned on the loud engine. I was quiet for the whole car ride home. What a mystery! Funny how dad can be such a great guy, yet a guy with a very risky temper. I don’t know. I don’t dare to ask.

When we get home, I run through the hallway to my room. I shut the door and locked it. I wanted to cry, no, I wanted to run. Runaway. Yes. I’d run away in the night. I’d look for mum. She left ages ago and I never knew where she went. I have a photo of her. She was young then. What a great reference. I couldn’t just go around showing people my old photo. It’s black and white!! For all the neighbourhood knows, she could be from a different country!

I don’t know. I might just go for a wander for a few days. Maybe I’ll come across someone that knows my mum, and maybe they’ll know where she is. It could happen. I wish it would.

Aah. I suddenly realize how hungry I am. I grab my water bottle and take a swig. I think to myself. I’m not thirsty! I need to go through to the kitchen and have some dinner. But how am I possibly to face dad in his sudden temper? I rummage around my room and I find a lollipop, some candy canes, and some chocolate bars. Perfect! A feast that was only just made for me.

I ate hungrily. Savouring the minty taste of the candy canes, the sticky caramel in the chocolate, and the soothing feel of the lollipop in my mouth. I soon fell asleep on my bed, with lots of sugary goodness wrappers.

I slept until morning. The sunshine on my face woke me up. What a great morning. A great morning until I saw the time. 8:55. I had 5 minutes to throw on some clothes, pack my bag and catch the bus. But what’s this? I’VE MISSED THE BUS?! No no no nonononono…….

This can’t be happening. Dad says there’s a late bus and that I’ll have to catch that. I groan and stuff my stuff in my bag. This was a day that was NOT going to be like my usual days. I wave to dad, but then remember his temper yesterday and turned away. What am I doing? He never waves to me anyway. I get on the bus when it finally comes. I get off at school. As I suspected, the bell had already rung. I started towards the door to only then realize something that made me so embarrassed. Here I was, standing in my school uniform, my kilt covered in Nutella, to only realize that it was Saturday. I wanted to cry. Instead, I ran...