The Fast & The Furious

(Josie Sayz: This is a true story. All of the events took place in the same day. The only works of fiction are the paraphrased conversations. Silly me even kept names in, so if anyone from work is reading, please don’t share this with the office.)

Buzzing clattered across the desk. Arching her head over her shoulder, her heart sank to her stomach as she squinted at the screen. “Carmen calling,” illuminated her phone’s screen. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Prodding her thumb into the screen, she inhaled a shaky breath. “Hello Carmen,” she cheered, forcing herself to smile as she held the phone to her ear.

“Caitlyn!” Carmen screeched down the phone. “Have you finished my copying yet?”

“Not yet,” muttered Caitlyn. Raising her shoulder, she clamped her phone between it and her ear. “I’m still doing it now,” Caitlyn replied, slotting another stack of paperwork into the photocopy feeder.

“Well, I need it now,” Carmen demanded.

“I know,” signed Caitlyn, wrinkling her brow. Forcing another swallow, she jabbed her finger into the buttons on the photocopier. Zipping into the machine’s opening, sheets whizzed out the opposite side. Gathering the copied papers, Caitlyn tapped them together against her desk. Grabbing the stapler, she slid the paperwork inside it and punched her fist to the top. Spinning on her heels, she swiped the original document from the photocopier and shuffled the pages into a neat pile.

“I’ve sent you printing to do too,” Carmen barked in Caitlyn’s ear. Shuddering, the pages slipped from Caitlyn’s hands. “I need it as soon as,” Carmen’s voice rang in Caitlyn’s ear as the pages fluttered to her feet.

“Okay,” Caitlyn mumbled, dropping to her knees. Caitlyn’s hands trembled, as she gathered the cascaded pages.

“You will do it, won’t you?” Carmen snapped.

“Yes Carmen,” breathed Caitlyn, as she clambered to her feet, stretching out for the stapler.

“And I need it immediately,” Carmen’s voice boomed.

“Yes Carmen,” replied Caitlyn. Hearing her phone bleep, as the caller hung up, Caitlyn’s shoulders deflated. Her heart thudded to her stomach. Pinching her thumb and forefinger to her temples, she seeped in a breath.

Dropping the pile of photocopying on the table, her phone’s screen lit up again. Caitlyn’s heart thumped faster. A groan escaped her. Buzzing, her phone danced across the table. She rolled her eyes. With another stack of papers in one hand, Caitlyn grabbed her phone with the other. “Hi Caitlyn; it’s Hannah,” boomed a voice, as Caitlyn shoved her phone between her ear and shoulder.

Sliding more copying into the photocopy feeder, Caitlyn sang, “Hi Hannah,” bearing a big smile.

“Listen,” Hannah snapped. “We need you to pop down to our block and do some scanning.”

“Okay,” replied Caitlyn, feeling the lump return to her throat.

“It’s urgent,” Hannah warned.

“Okay,” Caitlyn squeaked. The creases on her forehead deepened. The rapping in her ribcage raced. “I’m just finishing Carmen’s copying,” explained Caitlyn, feeling her throat close tighter. Her palms dampened. “I have to print something for her too.” Her intestines spiralled. “Then I’ll run down to you.”

“It is urgent.”

“I know,” murmured Caitlyn as her brows slanted together. Forcing another swallow, Caitlyn assured, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

*

Racing through the door, Caitlyn’s feet halted as she stepped outside. She closed her eyes. She seeped in a long, slow breath. Her shoulders relaxed. Her racing heart slowed. Fluttering her eyes open, Caitlyn slid her thumb underneath the strap of her bag and strode up the driveway. ‘Home time,’ she hummed to herself, as the corner of her mouth prodded up. Leaving the office behind her, she placed on foot in front of the other. Turning left, she made her way down the hill, towards the hum of traffic. ‘No more madness today,’ she grinned.

Vibration buzzed. Caitlyn gave a sharp sniff, as her eyes widened. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out her phone. Swiping her thumb across the screen, a message appeared from her mum. “Caitlyn, can pick up cheese and butter on your way home? Better get a four pint of milk too.” Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn groaned.

‘Sure,’ she muttered to herself. ‘It’s not like I’ve been at work all day. It’s not like any of that stuff’s heavy at all.’ Stuffing her phone back into her bag, Caitlyn sighed. Spinning on her heels, she trudged back up the hill.

Wandering around the supermarket, Caitlyn lowered her head. With her basket gripped tight, she pressed her arms into her sides. Thud! Something barged into her side. Staggering forwards, she flung her arms out in front of her. A round man bumbled past her, racing to the chilled ready meals. Squeezing a hand to her arm, Caitlyn winced, as she glared after the man. Elbowing his way through the crowd that had gathered, the man fought his way to the front. ‘What’s his problem?’ Caitlyn scorned. She sniffed, scrunching her nose up at him.

Reaching the dairy aisle, Caitlyn’s eyes skimmed the items on the shelves. Nearing butterscotch blur of cheese blocks, Caitlyn curled a hand to her chin. Her foot tapped as she hummed to herself. Caitlyn’s eyes flickered from left to right, examining the size, price and strength of the cheeses before her. Deciding upon one, she stretched her arm out, pressing herself up on her toes. A hand whacked hers out of the way. “Quick!” she heard a lady gasp from behind. “Grab one would ya!” the woman barked to her male companion. Ignoring Caitlyn’s existence, the man trampled on her foot, pushing her out of the way as he nabbed a block of cheese. Her eyes snapped closed. Sniffing, she held her breath. Her arms froze at her sides. Her pulse pounded at her temples.

Stooping, Caitlyn lowered her head, keeping her eyes glued to the floor as she traversed around the rest of the shop. Grabbing everything on her mother’s list, she shuffled towards the queue at the cash register. A lump lodged into her throat, as she stepped in line. Having placed her groceries on the conveyor belt, Caitlyn shuffled closer to the couple in front. Slipping her hand into her bag, she rummaged around for her purse. Thud! Her heart leapt, as she was jabbed in the back. Thud! Something whacked her again. Sidestepping, Caitlyn prodded her head over her shoulder. A child bounced from the shopping trolley behind her, to the conveyor belt, throwing groceries onto it, crashing into Caitlyn. “Excuse me!” roared the woman, manning the trolley. “You’re in my son’s way.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Caitlyn stuttered, wide eyed at the woman, as she hugged her bag to her chest. “I can’t move over anymore,” Caitlyn warned her, as she pressed herself up against the neighbouring till.

“You’re in his way,” the woman barked again, as her son leapt from the shopping trolley, with his arms flapping at his sides. Slapping Caitlyn out of the way, the boy skipped back and forth from the conveyor belt to his mother’s trolley. Taking in a shaky breath, Caitlyn felt her throat close tighter. She sniffed. Pinching her eyes tight, she squeezed her arms into her sides and leant closer to the customer in front of her.

*

With her shopping bag tugging on her arm, Caitlyn sniffed as she plodded. Trudging past a bus stop, she glanced up at the congregated crowd. ‘A bus must be due,’ she realised, arching her head behind her. The road was empty. ‘Either that or everyone just missed the previous one.’ Pain stabbed in her right shoulder blade. Seeping a breath through gritted teeth, she winced. A groan escaped her. Nearing the bus stop, Caitlin glanced at the timetable. ‘I’m not waiting twenty minutes, if I’ve just missed one,’ she grumbled. Her eyes widened. The bus was due at any minute. ‘Don’t be lazy,’ Caitlyn scorned herself. ‘You never get the bus.’ Heaving her shopping bag onto her shoulder, the pain shot down her arm. Her eyes snapped shut. ‘Okay…’ she caved. ‘Maybe I can get the bus, this once,’ she reasoned. ‘It’ll be my treat for getting through this demanding, stressy day.’

Arching her head over her shoulder, a smile prodded into the corner of her mouth as the bus peered around the corner. As it rolled into the loading bay, Caitlyn lingered behind the last in the queue, keeping her distance. Fumbling with her purse, she scraped together some change and hopped on the bus.

Dropping into a seat, Caitlyn’s shoulders drooped. She exhaled a long, slow breath, pressing her head against the window. Flickering her eyes closed, the racing in her chest slowed. The rhythmical thu-thud, thu-thud of the chugging engine brought a comforting hum to her, as she hugged her arms around herself. Thu-thud, thu-thud. The bus accelerated. Thu-thud, thu-thud, thu-thud. Chatter melted away in the background. Thu-thud, thu-thud. The pounding in her temples eased. Thu-thud, thu-thud. Her mind began to drift.

Crack! She jolted forwards. Thump! Her heart crashed into her ribcage. The bus halted. Snapping her eyes open, Caitlyn threw her head in the driver’s direction. He leapt up out of his chair.  Swinging open his compartment door, the driver cursed. She held her breath. Clawing his hand through his hair, the driver cursed three more times. Passengers murmured beside her. Stretching her neck up, she strained, trying to see what was happening. A woman stomped towards the bus, jabbing a finger at the driver. Caitlyn’s heart sank to her stomach. The driver leapt out of the bus.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” the woman screeched at him. “The light’s on red!” she yelled, swinging her finger towards the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice wavering.

“Sorry? Sorry?” she raged. “You coulda-” The conversation muffled, as the driver punched his fist into a button on the side of the bus, swinging the doors closed.

“He crashed her car?!” one passenger cried.

“He totalled it!” exclaimed another.

Flopping her head against the window, Caitlyn groaned. ‘Seriously?!’ she raged. ‘The one day I decide to get the bus.’

Flickering her sight towards the driver outside, he had moved away from the woman who had been ranting at him. Stood in a nearby front garden, he knelt to the ground, muttering to himself. The woman paced up and down, from her car to the bus and back again, talking on her phone the entire time. Chatter murmured in waves. “It’s road rage,” Caitlyn heard the man behind her mutter. “He was driving too fast; not looking where he was going. Now look,” he sighed, “I coulda walked home faster.” Humming to herself, Caitlyn agreed with him.

Fiddling with the strap of her bag and her shopping, Caitlyn straightened her back. Looping her bags back onto her shoulder, Caitlyn stared ahead at the door. Her heart dropped to her stomach. ‘We’re locked in,’ Caitlyn realised, recalling the driver slamming the doors closed to mute his conversation. Her eyes shifted to the people around her. Everyone was glued to their phone.

Throwing her attention to the front of the bus, Caitlyn squinted, as she watched the bus driver and the woman from the car in front scribbling things down on pads of paper. ‘Probably exchanging details,’ Caitlyn realised. Rolling her eyes, she flopped back in her seat. Gazing out of the window on the bus’ opposite side, she sighed at all of the cars that passed by. A double toot hooted at them. A chorus of groans sounded out amongst the passengers, as the next bus overtook them. Sinking into her seat, Caitlyn shook her head. ‘Twenty minutes?!’ she fumed. ‘We’ve been trapped here for twenty minutes.’

Insync with her exclamation, the driver returned. Opening the door, he announced, “Everybody off.” Groans, grumbles and sighs echoed throughout the bus. As people rose their voices to whine, complain and argue, Caitlyn lowered her head. Shuffling out of the bus, she escaped the bumbling brawl.

Trudging up the road, Caitlyn looped her thumb around her bags. ‘What a day,’ she sighed, shaking her head. ‘Everybody needs to slow down.’ Plodding one foot in front of the other, Caitlyn trudged on, past the bustling business and madness of demanding and dashing people.

- Josie -

Death Threat

(Josie Sayz: This is a piece that I wrote for a ‘Life Writing’ module at university. Apart from my lecturer, I have only shared this with one other person before. This is a true story.)

Death Threat

“You’re paranoid.” Maddison and Kirsten laughed, while Abigail gave me another lecture. “No one’s at the window, we’re on the second floor.” I glared at them. They were always making fun of my constant worrying. That someone, anyone was lurking… watching… waiting to get me. So what if I was worried? They’d be sorry when something happened, and they weren’t prepared.

Shrugging off their laughter, I made my way up the next flight of stairs to my IT classroom. Swinging the classroom door open, I expected to be met by the warm smile of Ms. Sadler, but instead Miss Smith took her place. Forcing a smile in her direction, I took my seat at my computer – one row from the back. Our regular teacher Mr. Kilbride was teaching at the connecting school in Gloucester. He had been teaching there on a Thursday afternoon all half term, so we had been having cover teachers. Usually we had Ms. Sadler, but today it was Miss Smith.

As my computer powered up, I took out my IT instruction booklet and flicked it open to my next assignment: Assignment Five. While my dinosaur of a computer loaded its user settings, I glanced across the room at the rest of my class. They were only on Assignment Two, they wasted all of their time playing games and browsing the internet. Not wanting anyone to know that I was ahead of them on the assignments, I kept a low profile.

After Miss Smith took the register, a hand hit me on the shoulder. I turned around. “What assignment are you on?” whispered Ellie, who sat behind me.

“Three,” I replied.

“Will you send me what you did for the first two?” she asked. “I won’t copy.”

“No,” I told her, turning back around. I knew that coping was exactly what she was going to do.

“Caitlin,” she whispered. Miss Smith glanced up at us from her computer. I lowered my head and began typing. “Caitlin,” Ellie hissed. Again, I ignored her. “Caitlin!” BANG! Something thumped me on the head.

“Ooh!” Simon shouted out. “Did you see that?” Gripping my head tight I clasped my eyes shut. No I did not see that.

“What?” Niall asked.

“She just hit Caitlin over the head.”

People started whispering. Slouching in my chair, I felt my face heat up, embarrassed by the room’s conversation topic. It’s strange, my head hardly hurt until people took interest in it… now it throbbed. Noticing the commotion, Miss. Smith came over to me. Kneeling to my height, she asked, “Are you alright?” With a hand gripped upon my head I nodded. As she returned to her desk, Ellie hissed, “Send me the work,” yanking one of my pigtails.

“Ouch!” Jack gasped, sensing my pain.

“She’s terrorising her,” Niall laughed. I pulled my pigtails around my neck and rubbed my head. Ignoring everyone, I continued my assignment.

“Caitlin, are you okay?” Simon asked. I nodded. He didn’t really care; he just wanted to make sure that he was a part of the game being played – with me as the bait. THUMP! Something hit my head again.

Everyone burst out laughing. I knew they were laughing at me. They had to be laughing at me. What else was there to laugh at? My vision clouded as liquid filtered into my eyes. I blinked repeatedly, to ensure that I did not cry. “Ellie fell off her chair!” I heard someone shout. The laughter continued.

“She’s drunk!” someone added.

My thoughts exploded. The pounding spiralled ideas, notions around in a circumbendibus. I had to shut myself off from everyone. Their voices loudened. Their laughter loudened. Computers hummed. Fingers typed. Trap pads clicked. My heart drummed fiercely, above the room’s ruckus. My ears thudded. Voices grew louder. The drumming grew louder. My chest expanded. Contracted. Expanded. Contracted. Expanded. Contracted.

*

I stood outside the classroom, leaning against the wall, with Miss Smith beside me. “What’s going on?” she asked. How did I get here? I didn’t remember leaving my chair. My cheeks were wet. I’d been crying. Sniffing I shrugged. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know what was going on? I just kept being hit over the head.

“Someone hit me over the head,” I heard myself say.

“Who?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” To be honest, I didn’t. There were five people sat behind me, any of them could have been the culprit. I wouldn’t put it past Lewis – he would probably do it for no other reason than amusement and to get attention for hitting someone with ginger hair.

The classroom door swung open. Ellie flew out, threw herself by my side, hugging my arm. “Go back inside,” Miss Smith ordered.

“But I’m worried about Caitlin, Miss. She’s crying and someone keeps hitting her over the head.” Leaving us outside, Miss Smith returned to the classroom. Once she had disappeared Ellie gripped my arm. “If you tell anyone it was me, I’ll kill you…” she sneered daggering her nails into my arm. “I’ll kill you Caitlin. I’ll be waiting for you after school. I’ll come after you.” Staring into her eyes, I swallowed hard. “I’m serious… you’re dead.”

Back inside the classroom, Miss Smith returned her attention to her laptop. I held my assignment guide up to my face and began typing. Typing what? Letters. Words. Phrases. Anything. Nothing. The sentences made no sense. My head made no sense. “Ellie, stop harassing Caitlin,” Simon warned her. Turning my head slightly, I saw her return the computer keyboard to the desk.

“I haven’t done nothing!” she protested.

“Well then why were you holding the keyboard over her head?” asked Lewis. Miss Smith glanced up from her screen.

“I wasn’t!” Ellie whaled.

“We all saw you.” Miss Smith rose from her chair, looking in our direction.

“I’ll kill you,” Ellie whispered into my ear, her breath contaminating my neck. As I turned to face her, she staggered past my desk to the classroom door, flung it open and sped off down the corridor.

*

Again, I found myself outside of the classroom. Miss Smith made me explain to her everything. Between bursts of hyperventilation, I managed to retell what I thought had happened. As I finished, she ran back into the classroom to retrieve a packet of tissues, piece of paper and pen. After scrawling a message onto a piece of paper, she handed it to me. “Mr. Llewellyn’s on lunch duty in the Hall. I want you to go and give this note to him, which explains everything that you’ve just told me.” My hand hesitated, refusing to grip the paper. “It’s okay,” she said. “You aren’t telling Mr. Llewellyn, I am.”

With the note clasped tightly in my hands, I crept down the IT staircase. As I reached the bottom, I checked to make sure that every direction was clear, before continuing. As I turned down the corridor towards the Hall, my heart’s loud drumming returned. Holding my fist against my rib cage, I held it securely in place.

I could see people. There were people in the Hall. What if she was there? If she was, she’d know that I had told someone. She’d know that I had told someone and that they had made me go to see the Deputy Head teacher and then she would kill me. My feet stopped. I stared at them, but they wouldn’t move. What was wrong with them?

Looking up at the Hall’s entrance, I saw a familiar face – my best friend, James. As he walked in my direction, my body began to relax slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked, placing a hand upon my arm. My eyes shifted from his, down to the piece of paper in my hand and back to him again. I could feel my bottom lip quivering. If there was one person I could tell, then it was him. We had known each other forever.

“Hey James!” a voice shouted. Flinching, I clasped James’ hand and turned to face where the voice had come from. It was Craig. Jerking his head in the direction that I had just come from, he asked, “You comin’ playground?”

“Yeah,” he replied, ignoring me. Leaving me. Before I could even find my voice, he was gone. I was alone.

*

Entering the Hall, everyone turned to me. They knew. They had to know. They all knew that I told Miss Smith, that I thought about telling James and that I was on my way to tell Mr. Llewellyn and this was going to be the last time they’d see me alive, because I was going to die.

Having made my way through the mass of bodies to the front of the Hall, I handed Mr. Llewellyn the piece of paper. I stared at him as he read it. His eyes widened. The bushes above them rose. His brow creased. Lowering the note, he searched the room for another teacher. “Wait here,” he told me. Clambering off the stage, he caught the arm of another teacher, commanding them to take over lunch duty. Without speaking, he led me out of the Hall and into his office, leaning against his walking stick.

“Do you know where this girl went?” he asked me, handing me his box of tissues. I shook my head. A search party was sent out. Teachers searched the school, some outside. Sitting at Mr. Llewellyn’s desk I watched several cars pull out of the car park. The door was locked. I was alone.

*

Swaying from left to right on Mr. Llewellyn’s spinning chair, I twirled the tissue box around. The box’s pink flowers were too feminine for him. Maybe the box was our Head teacher’s instead. They were quite a nice pink, dark, and not too girly. Maybe they were the sort of flowers that people would bring to my funeral. Would anyone turn up to my funeral? Maddison, Abigail and Kirsten would, wouldn’t they? And James. James would be there. What about Mr. Llewellyn? He would have to; he’s the Deputy Head teacher. I wonder what they’ll say… “Caitlin, she was a quiet girl, a good girl… too bad for her that it cost her her life.” If I hadn’t cared about Ellie copying my work, then maybe I wouldn’t have died. But wait a minute… I’m not dead yet.

I checked my watch. Three minutes had passed since I last checked it. I thought of making a will. Who would I leave what to? Maddison always wanted my spotty umbrella; she could have it. And I could leave Abigail my pencil case – it would match her bag. I searched for a pen and some paper.

I checked my watch. Two minutes had passed since I last checked it. I’d been in Mr. Llewellyn’s office for almost two hours. Had they found Ellie? Had she threatened to kill me? Had she killed them? She must have done, that’s why no one had been back for me. Ellie had gone mad and killed all of them. She killed everyone.

There was a knock on the door. I flinched. “Caitlin…” a voice croaked, before opening the door. Mr. Llewellyn’s head appeared in the doorway. “We’ve found her.” He perched himself on the edge of his desk and explained to me the events that had taken place during my incarceration. Two teachers had found Ellie hiding in a bush, outside my house. She knew they were looking for her. They had brought her back and she was sitting in the interview room. She had not meant to threaten me, Mr. Llewellyn explained. She was not herself – had been pressured by friends into drinking alcohol. “She wants to apologise,” he told me. But before I saw her, he wanted to make it clear to me first that she would not harm me.

He brought her in. She was crying. “I’m sorry Caitlin,” she bawled. “I never meant it. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sorry. She was sorry that she got caught, but not for what she said.

“Ellie’s a good girl,” Mr. Llewellyn explained after she was gone. “She’s not going to hurt you, so don’t you worry.” I stared at him nodding. “It was the alcohol.” Again, I nodded. He escorted me back to lesson.

It’s funny. The next time I thought I saw a shadowing figure through the window, Abigail, Maddison and Kirsten thought twice about laughing. It shows that I was right all along. Even now, I double check the locks on doors and windows before I leave, I never walk home the same way two days running and I’ll always walk the wrong way if there is someone behind me. Just in case.

- Josie -