Lifes a Game - but It’s Never Ending

I’m an only child. Yes it’s ok; most of the time, anyway. It’s only bothering sometimes, when I feel crowded, when there are too many adults about. Then, I need to talk to someone to talk to, a person my age. I don’t know if you ever get that feeling: you walk into a room and it’s all quiet and empty; no one is about. The space feels like a desert, no one to chat to; nowhere to go; and nothing to do.

There’s only one way, of keeping myself entertained. That is: day dreaming. Yes, such a bad habit I know. I sit in class sometimes, in the corner of the room, just staring outside the window. Nothing the teacher says seems to reach my brain. It’s as if I’m an alien, with little knowledge and understanding. My mate Jade thought I was slightly odd. She would always give me funny looks; tell me to, �loosen up’. But to be perfectly honest, she was a great, best friend.

I miss her; I miss her a lot. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, if she was around. If only her parents, hadn’t decided to move to Scotland.

But there I go again, day dreaming! So anyway, that’s me: here I am. Honestly, I could talk about myself all day, given half the chance, or even a quarter! I know you shouldn’t really but I reckon it’s just nerves. Or it was then. Although it’s different now, after everything that’s happened.

Most lunchtimes, before it all happened, I would sit by myself at the side of the playground, just me and my freckles, trying to stay out of the sun and to stop them spreading. See the thing is, you can start off with one, and then you go out, into the sunshine. The next time you look into the mirror, you’re covered in them. They even start to join up into clumps, until you’re nothing but a freckle, a walking freckle, with hair on top!

Anyway, it was September – a new beginning: a year without Jade. The smell of paint lingered in the air. I walked around the classroom; little had changed. Something was missing. Jade. This thought past, and I sat down at my little desk, alongside an empty chair. The teacher walked through the door, along with a girl. I realised that she must have been new, and was soon introduced as Margaret. I sat longingly all lesson, just staring at her: she seemed nice enough. I wondered whether she, could become the friend I needed, since Jade had left anyway. She didn’t have freckles, not like I had, and was fairly pretty. At least, I thought so.

At break time, many people tried to make an effort to be friendly with Margret. They tried to involve her in conversations; they even invited her to join in their games! But although she was equally polite, she didn’t join in with anything. Every so often, I’d hear her say something like:

“Thank you very much for asking, but I’ll decline that offer for the moment. Is that alright with you?”

But there was something odd; about the way she had spoken. It didn’t sound like something you’d usually say. It sounded, well, too old: too old for Margaret I mean. If my mother had said something like that, you’d have thought that was her, trying to be funny! But maybe, Margaret had heard her parents talking like that, and it had rubbed off on her! Maybe that was it.

I continued watching her, throughout break. She sat there all alone, reading her book. Her face looked utterly bored, bored stiff. I thought I’d better make the effort, and talk to her.

“Hi,