POOR
CHAPTER ONE
It was cold and wet, and my boots had large puddles inside them, making my socks soaked through.
I was walking home from school to our flat, and Mum hadn't the money to buy me a coat or anything like that, so I made do with my cardigan, which I wrapped round my head to create a complicated turban. People who walked by sniggered, but I didn't mind. They could think what they want.
Gangs formed as the estate got dark. I was almost home by now, but I knew how feirce the people were round here. I ran home, as fast as I could. I hoped Mum wasn't drunk. I'd forgotten my keys and if she was in bed she'd probably just ignore me.
I knocked on the flat door. No answer. I knocked again, and again. Still no answer.
I started thumping on the windows and calling out, but Mum didn't answer the door.
The rain was pouring and I didn't have a mobile, anything. No money. Wet clothes. Wet hair. Wet boots.
I crouched down on the floor and huddled in a ball. I took my dress off and used it as a blanket. It was big and stretchy enough so it fitted around my body. I lay on my cardigan so my bare legs didn't get cold underneath my dress. I lay my boots beside me and waited.
The moon rose and I heard a light switch on, some muffling, then a sigh. I looked into the window. Mum had collapsed on the floor.
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