All About Keira

Day 1: Word count 740



Prompt One

Introduce your character to us, the audience, in a way you feel best describes them or portrays their personality

What does your character look like?

  Do they have any scars or tattoos?

  How does your character act around people? Alone?





Form 9SD, named rather unimaginatively after Miss David’s initials, contained many interesting personalities that Hannah observed from the sidelines. These included little cliques of girls who were constantly having power battles, falling out and not speaking to one another, the lot of them continuously bitching behind one another’s backs. The groups of lads had much less complex relationships, one alpha dog with a bunch of puppies following him round and showing off.  There were pairs of friends who would go everywhere together and never fall out. Then there were the loners. Hannah wasn’t the only one. There was Howard, who was short and wore his backpack on both shoulders. He was always trying to latch onto any group of boys to spend break time with. They didn’t seem to want him. Hannah wasn’t sure why but she could see that his desperate attempts to fit in only made things worse. And then there was scary Keira.



Keira was not like Howard at all. She didn’t try to be friends with anybody, but she didn’t hide like Hannah. She would stomp into class in her heavy black boots and dump her satchel noisily down at the furthest table from the teacher’s desk. She sat scowling and would mutter sullenly when her name, Keira Mabey, was called in the register. People avoided sitting near her if they could, but Hannah often ended up sitting on a table with her. She didn’t mind. Keira hardly spoke, and so Hannah could work in peace, without being made fun of.  If the teacher wanted them to do some collaborative work, Hannah would have to do it all, but that was worth it. Occasionally people would try to provoke Keira but she was so terrifying that Hannah was in awe of their bravery. One day Megan Harbut asked Keira “Why are you late for school every single day when you live on the other side of the road?” Keira turned her head slowly to look at Megan. Megan’s friends tittered in unison but took a step back so they weren’t in arms length of Keira. Megan had a superior expression on her face and she smiled unpleasantly. Keira raised her eyebrows and her shoulders at the same time. “Why are you still so fucking ugly when you wear all that makeup?” She stood and stared at Megan while she grabbed her bag and huffed out of the room. But when Megan had gone, Hannah noticed that Keira looked worried. And Hannah wondered. Because Keira was always late but Hannah had assumed she didn’t care.



One day, as Hannah was waiting in her seat for the bus to depart, she caught sight of Keira running up the school drive. Hannah considered how she looked like a boy from a distance. Her tall, slightly broad-shouldered frame paired with her short messy hair could fool you, but not up close. Her pointed features were feminine and might even be attractive if she had ever smiled. Her hair was dyed black and roughly styled. The other giveaway was her nose stud. It was grey and metallic but not silver. Steel perhaps? Keira rushed on, through the school gates, her face hard and flushed.  Maybe she’d been kept in by a teacher? Hannah’s eye followed her, envious that she would be home in under five minutes. But Keira didn’t cross the road. She turned right at the gates, hurrying on without even looking at her home on the other side of the bus. She kept up a good pace and the bus pulled away from the kerb in the opposite direction.



Teachers in general seemed to ignore Keira. She was still late every day but she wasn’t disruptive during lessons. When other people talked when they were supposed to be listening, let their phones ring loudly in their bag, and asked stupid questions like “Is your top recycled miss?”; Keira just sat in silence, looking at the teacher or glaring at the white board. She would write the bare minimum in her exercise book with a single biro taken from her black school bag. She didn’t seem to own a pencil case.  Once, a supply teacher called Mrs Shipton-Moyne asked her to remove her nose stud. She stood up, lifted her bag onto her shoulder and left the room. She gave the teacher a steady look as she passed her, but didn’t slow her pace or change her expression at all.



Day 2  - Word count 850



Prompt Two

Consider the contents of your character’s wallet/purse/pocket/coin purse and write a scene where someone your character doesn’t trust goes through it.



Questions to Consider:

  Why doesn’t your character trust this person?

  Is this person a stranger or someone your character is familiar with?

  What kind of items does your character carry and what do they say about them?



It all started because of Chloe Matthews. Chloe came into school on Tuesday morning with a pink “It’s my birthday” badge the size of a dvd, complete with irritating flashing lights. Before registration began she was overheard in loud conversation with a gaggle of friends during which she produced one of her birthday gifts – a fifty pound note. This attracted a small crowd and many people voiced opinions about the banknote. Jack Hayes declared that no shops would take it. Emily Worthing said she had expected it to be bigger. Joseph Talbot had apparently seen one before at his uncle’s restaurant. When Mrs David came in to take the register, Chloe stuffed the note into her bag. 



By the time 9SD were on route to their geography lesson, a noisy discussion had broken out amongst the boys about the football match that had been on TV on Sunday night. One of the boys was re-enacting a foul he claimed he’d seen and a minor scuffle occurred. The class were whipped up and bouncing off the walls as they entered the classroom. Mrs Hamilton was just shouting and threatening detention when Chloe called out “My money’s gone!”



One head of year, and then headmaster later, 9SD were informed that everyone would be having their bags searched during break time. They formed an excited but fairly orderly queue. Keira was at the end of the line. Mrs David, assisted by Mrs Hamilton, was doing the searching. Harry Buzan had a dirty magazine in his bag which Mrs David confiscated without batting an eyelid. Harry laughed, almost pleased to have his machismo exposed in public, until Mrs David told him she would be calling his mother. Groups of girls fussed as Mrs David glanced into little pouches concealing tampons or pads. With the air of one who had seen it all before, Mrs David closed their bags and returned them.



As the end of the line approached, some people dithered about leaving. Many had rushed off, eager to utilise any break time left to them; but others had realised that if the culprit was in 9SD, then they hadn’t been exposed yet; and perhaps the best was yet to come. Megan was one of the few, apparently absorbed in a poster display about migration of people due to industrialisation.  Keira stood rigidly in line, holding her bag in her hands. When she reached Mrs David she stiffly placed the bag on the edge of the table and pushed it towards her.



It was an average school bag. A satchel made of black plasticised fabric, with a non-adjustable cotton strap. Mrs David unfastened the hard plastic clips and lifted the flap. There were two front pockets. The left one revealed a black biro and the right one was empty. Mrs David glanced up at Keira as she replaced the pen. Keira’s face was unreadable. Mrs David reached into the main compartment. Five exercise books and one reading book. She passed them to Mrs Hamilton who methodically flicked through the pages of Geography, Maths, Biology, History and English; holding them at the spine so that any contents would fall onto the desk below. Nothing fell. The reading book was a school copy of a teen horror novel. It’s pages also revealed nothing to Mrs Hamilton. An old ice cream tub shielded two cheese sandwiches on white bread wrapped in cling film, a packet of supermarket own-brand Worcestershire sauce flavoured crisps and an oblong chocolate covered biscuit. A single Yale key on a chain key ring was extracted slowly. The last thing inside the bag was a black wallet. Mrs David pulled at the strong velcro and noticed Keira flinch imperceptibly. She gave her attention to the wallet. Inside were two ten pound notes, three pound coins, a fifty pence and a bunch of small change. A supermarket loyalty card bore the name of Rebecca Mabey. There were no less than three children’s library cards - Keira Mabey, Maisie Mabey and Samuel Mabey. Keira shifted her weight from one foot to another as Mrs David continued to empty the contents of the wallet. There were three supermarket receipts and a folded shopping list written on the back of an envelope jotted down in a rough hand. The list read as follows:



chicken kievs

ham

cheese

milk

bread

frozen sweetcorn

potatoes

lasagne

beans

pizza

crisps

bananas

kids lunch biscuits

fish

oven chips

pasta sauce

mince

cereal

ice cream

biscuits



Mrs Hamilton looked at the money and asked “Is this your purse Keira?”



“Yeah” replied the immobile Keira. “My mum gave me the shopping to do tonight”. She shrugged after she formed the words. Mrs David raised her eyebrows but returned every item carefully to it’s home. Keira watched, her jaw fixed in position and when Mrs Hamilton lifted the bag for her to take back Keira gripped it a little too hard.



Chloe Matthews’ fifty pound note was found four years later by a plumber, under the radiator in the upper corridor. He used it to buy two rounds at the pub for him and his mates. 



Prompt Three

Does your character consider his or herself spiritual or religious? What’s the difference? What are your character’s views on religion in general?





Questions to Consider:

  Does your character currently practice a faith? How devout are they?

  Do others consider your character religious?

  How important is religion in their everyday life?



Day three – Word count 1159



Something rather bouncy jumped up onto the bed in the warm, dark room. Keira groaned into the pillow and buried her face as another something turned on her bedside lamp. A little face, with a broad toothy grin, pressed hopefully against the pillow. “Keira.. are you awake?”.



“She’s awake” said a small, self-assured voice from the bedside. Keira groaned again and rolled into a sitting position. She rubbed her face slowly with her hands as the two children tucked themselves in either side of her. Her hair was stuck up at odd angles and she let out a long heavy sigh.



“When are you guys gonna give me a lie in?” Keira asked them.



“Never” said the elder of the two. Keira laughed, placed her palms on her face, and laughed again.



She lowered her hands and fanned her fingers out just enough to peer at them through the gaps.  “Where is it then Sam?”



“Here”. The little boy reached across the bed and picked up a large, flat, colourful cardboard box.



“What number is it today?” Keira quizzed.



“It’s number..” came the older voice, but Keira stopped her.



“Let him work it out Maisie, it’s good practice for him”. Maisie huffed a little impatiently, but observed silently while Sam counted the windows already open.



“Number nine” he said confidently.



“Ok, open it up” Keira said with a slight drumroll on the duvet cover. For a moment the three of them watched quietly as Sam’s inexperienced fingers tore at the cardboard door. He prised out a small lump of chocolate and turned it over. They all looked at it.



“What is it?” asked Sam, his face upturned to Keira



Keira took it between finger and thumb and lowered her eyebrows while peering closely at the moulded block. “I think it’s an angel” she decided finally. Sam took it happily and put it in his mouth.



“Can I see the picture?” Maisie asked. Keira passed her the box. “It is an angel” Maisie informed them. “It has wings and everything”.



“Right then, up and out.” Keira got out of bed and put on her dressing gown. She looked at the clock. “You monsters! It’s 6am!”



“Can we watch the TV Keira?” Sam asked.



“Yeah, put it on, but not too loud” she replied as she followed them downstairs. “Let mum sleep”.



Two hours later she was stood in the hall shouting up the stairs. “Sam! Get down and put your shoes on. We’ve got to go soon!”

 

Maisie pulled at Keira’s coat.  “Keira, where’s my reading book?”



Keira looked down at her and grimaced. “I don’t know, where did you leave it?”



Maisie twisted a pink hat in her hands. “I don’t know, Keira”



“Right. Stay right there. SAM! Come down and put your coat and shoes on.”  Keira ran around the living room, lifting up cushions and newspapers. She ran back to the hall with a children’s book in hand. “Here it is, put it in your book bag quick! Sam, good boy, now put your hat on. Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.” She ran upstairs. As she approached her mother’s bedroom she steadied herself and released a long, slow breath. She tapped on the door gently. No reply. She poked her head around the door. Her mother was sat at a dressing table staring at the mirror. A half full mug of tea was sat next to a plastic hairbrush.



“Thanks for the tea Keira, you’re such a good girl.” The voice was far away.



“We’re off now Mum, see you tonight.”



Out of the front door and into the windy, rainy street. Keira gripped Sam’s arm, keeping him to the left of her on the pavement as they quick-marched along. Maisie kept up a steady chatter. As they turned onto Underhill Street she dropped a bombshell.



“Miss Peters says that we can bring an ornament into school tomorrow for the church carol day. Can I have an ornament to take Keira?”



Keira groaned. “I’ll go up the attic tonight”.



“Can I take the mouse one?”



“Do you get it back after Christmas?”



“I don’t know”



“No then. Take one that it doesn’t matter if they keep it. What do they do with them all anyway?”



“There’s going to be a big big tree in the church and all the school get to put an ornament on”



“Oh God! I suppose that means that Sam needs one too”.



Sam pricked his ears up at the mention of his name. “Do I?”



“Why wasn’t there a letter or something, did you lose it?”



Maisie wrinkled her lips and shook her head.



“Ok, I’ll get you both an ornament down tonight, but it will have to be one that won’t break or it’ll never make it to the carol thing in one piece.”



“Will you come to the carol church this year Keira?”



“I can’t, can I? It’s in the day.”



“Maybe Mum will come” Sam put in.



“No” said Keira “She’s at work in the day. Look, I’ll come to the play like always, promise. And this year, Sam will be there too and Maisie, you can watch his bit with me, as it’s on last”.



Sam stopped dead. Other families walking on the street had to veer round them. “I really wanted to be the baby Jesus” he said stubbornly. Keira and Maisie groaned in unison.



“They never let anyone be the baby Jesus, it’s been the same doll since I was there.”



“You have a good part Sammy” Maisie said coaxingly.



“Yeah, but I wanted to lie in the animal basket with all the grass.” He pouted, showing no signs of moving out of the puddle which he was standing in.



“Well you can’t. You’ll get to carry a toy lamb though..”



“That’s not as good as being the baby Jesus”



“You get to follow an angel..”



Sam shuffled his left foot slightly.



“You get to wear a tea towel on your head...”



Sam considered, and then stepped out of the puddle. They reinstated the quick march.



“Why did the shepherds give baby Jesus a lamb?”



“Well, I expect that’s all they had.”



“What did he do with it?”



“Maybe he kept it as a pet.”



“Where is it now?”



“The lamb? I have no idea. It was thousands of years ago so it wouldn’t still be alive.”



“Keira? Do you know everything about the baby Jesus?”



“I’ve just said, I don’t know. No one does really.”



“What do you mean?”



“Well it’s all stuff in books. We don’t know whether they were right or whatever.”



“You mean he might not have had the lamb as a pet?”



“Oh God. Look. Don’t worry about it. Just remember to give the baby Jesus your lamb and it will all be fine. Here we are. I’ll see you this afternoon. Be good.”



With that she gave each a hasty ruffle of the hair and pushed them through the gate.







Day four.  word count 707

Prompt Four



Your character is faced with a daunting choice. How do they react to it and why?



Questions to Consider

  Is your character prone to thought or action?

  Are they more likely to do what is right or what is easy?

  Do difficult situations cause your character to panic or think/act more efficiently?



Hannah sat in history class at a table near the window. The classroom was on the second floor of the building and the window overlooked the school playing field. From the window she could see another class playing hockey in the cold dank afternoon. Hannah shivered comfortably. The classroom was warm and brightly lit. Keira was sat across the table with her exercise book and biro ready.



Mr Patter showed a video about suffragettes and then gave each table a newspaper each and a few pairs of scissors. They had to cut out any photos of people from the newspaper and separate them into two piles, male and female. When Mr Patter came to their table he gave Keira the newspaper. Keira pulled the middle half of the newspaper out and handed it to Hannah without meeting her eye. Silently, they both started cutting. Hannah found herself quickly absorbed. It was quite a pleasant activity, the sound of ruffling pages spread throughout the classroom and nothing to do but mindlessly chop. Hannah was just carefully separating a group of factory workers who had won the lottery when she heard whispers from the table behind her.



“So what happened?”



“My dad said she wouldn’t believe them that it wasn’t a bomb”



“What was it?”



“A coke can or something. She’s not right in the head”



Hannah saw Keira stiffen, but they both continued to cut newspaper.



“That’s weird. A coke can!”



“Yeah, and then she wouldn’t change any of the bags in the bins that day and they had to send her home. They said she was so scared of the coke can she couldn’t breathe properly.”



“But she’s still working there?”



“Oh yeah, my dad said that you can’t fire someone that easy anymore. They have rules and stuff”



Keira cut a little faster.



“I don’t think it’s safe, she could be crazy”



“I heard this thing on the news about this woman who went nuts and smothered her kids with a pillow and pretended that they’d died in their sleep”



“Oh yeah, I remember that. That’s probably a different kind of crazy though from her. My dad says that when she comes in now though he pretends he’s on the phone”



Keira put the newspaper down. She stood up, scissors in hand, and walked past Hannah. Hannah felt fear rise in her, and she glanced up at Mr Patter. He was sat at his desk, busily marking another class’s work.



Keira stood next to the two girls on the table behind. 



“What are you talking about?”



“Nothing.” said one girl defiantly.



“I don’t think it’s nothing” said Keira. Her hands shook at her sides.



“Well, is it true or not?”



“it’s fucking lies”



“It is not.”



Keira answered by stabbing the scissors into the table. “Don’t tell fucking lies about my family”



Mr Patter couldn’t miss that. Keira got sent out into the hallway.



Instead of going to French lesson after history, Keira had to go and see Mrs David. She was sat in the form room, books all around her on the desk.  The corridor outside was still noisy with students making their way to their last lesson of the day.



“Sit down Keira”  Keira sat. “What happened today in history?” No response. “Mr Patter says you managed to stab a desk with a pair of safety scissors”



“I’m just sick of their bitching.”



“What are they bitching about?”



“Nothing. Just saying stuff about me.”



“Is everything alright at home Keira?” Mrs David said it almost routinely but Keira half opened her mouth as though she might reply. Mrs David asked a little too quickly “Is there something you want to tell me?” Keira put her fists onto the desk with an essence of utter weariness. She looked down at her feet.



“They said my hair looked stupid. Nasty bitches”



Mrs David leaned back and sighed.



“Don’t get sent to me again Keira.”



Keira got up and trudged to the door. As she touched the handle Mrs David added “and if you ever want to tell me the truth I might be able to help”



Keira looked through the glass of the door into the empty corridor.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about Miss”.



Day Five - Word count 1160



Prompt Five

Under what circumstances would your character compete unfairly? This can be anything from a life or death situation down to a card game.



Questions to Consider:

  What does your character stand to lose?

  Is your character capable of winning without cheating?

  How does your character feel about their actions? (Guilty, relieved, etc.)





A few weeks earlier.





Keira waited at the gates for her brother and sister. Real “mummies” were waiting there too in little groups, reminding Keira of girls at school. They wore variations of the same uniform, skinny jeans tucked into knee high boots, belted jumpers and thick wool coats. They carried large handbags and some pushed toddlers back and forth in large buggies. More bags were piled onto the back of the pushchairs and whenever a toddler happened to get out, the whole thing fell over. Some grannies and dads waited too but they hung back, like Keira. Keira rubbed one scuffed shoe against another and wriggled her burning toes to scratch them against the inside of the fake leather. The mummies were discussing bonfire night.



“Which display will you go to?”



“The one over in Hapley. It is more pricey but it’s definitely the best”



“Oooh I’ll check it out. I’ve still got to make that firework sculpture for the competition”



“Oh, I finished Emily’s on Tuesday. She wanted to bring it to school today but I said I won’t let her bring it till the day. She’ll only play with it in class and I don’t want her touching it, she’ll spoil it.”



The first class were let out of the building. A little girl about six years old was the first to reach the gate. She pulled it open and no sooner was she on the other side began to cry. She held her hand out in fear and an efficient mummy pulled a baby wipe out of a handbag to remove the offending grime. Keira looked at her feet and rolled her eyes. You wouldn’t catch Maisie or Sam crying over mud on their hands.



Other classes were let out and Maisie rushed happily to Keira. Finally Sam’s class were heading towards the gate. As he reached the girls, he waved an orange piece of paper at them.



“I’ve got to give you this Keira. It’s a letter for the mummies”



Keira noticed some mummies looking over at them. “We’ll give it straight to mum when we get home” she said clearly.



Sam wasn’t listening, he continued to wave the flyer. “It’s a minder” 



“What?”



“He means reminder” Maisie informed her. “It’s about the firework making competition”



Keira glanced at the leaflet.



“What do you have to make?”



“A firework!”  Sam spun around and waved his arms in the air “Whoooshh”



“Everyone so far has done a rocket” Maisie said as they walked along. “They are very good”.



“Poppy said her mummy helped her” said Sam “Will you help me Keira?”



“Am I supposed to help?”



“No” informed Maisie “But all the mummies make them. The babies can’t use sellotape, they can’t rip it properly, I saw when I was walking to assembly”



Sam luckily ignored being defined as “a baby” and continued whooshing down the street.



That afternoon, Keira was in the supermarket. The children were cozy at home, sat with Mum on the sofa. She glanced in the basket and mentally added up the contents. £4 left. She wandered up the aisles in search of inspiration.  She found some for £3.99 and went straight to the self service checkout.



Back at home, Mum had gone upstairs for a lie down. Keira got a cereal box out of the bin, gathered some scissors and felt tips and called Sam to the kitchen. “Do you still want to make a firework sculpture?”



His eyes widened and he nodded, grinning slightly manically.



“I have an idea, but you have to do what I say” Keira said “Then it isn’t really cheating – if you do it.”



Sam climbed up onto the chair and sat ready at the table.



“Right. Put this plate on the cardboard. Draw round it. Cut it out.” Sam cut a wobbly line “Hold the scissors properly. Colour this.”



“What colour?”



“I don’t think it matters. Bright colours”



“Rainbow firework!”



“If you want. Colour faster, we need to do another one of these”



Sam coloured in with all his might. He pushed the nib into the body of the pen. “I broke it Keira!”



“Ok. No more red. Just use the other colours. Damn. I forgot to buy glue”



Sam looked up at her. “At school we made glue with flowers and water”



“You mean flour and we don’t have any” Keira looked in the cupboard. “Hmm..” She got out a box of weetabix. “Right. You are not to tell anyone we used this in your sculpture.” She mixed the weetabix with water in a bowl. “Ok stir with the spoon and then stick the two circles together with this. No! Not the bit you’ve coloured, let me wipe it off. Try again, on the back, spread it thin” Keira tilted her head to look at the artwork. “It needs to stand on something. We’ll leave it to dry while I look for something.”



Sam followed Keira around the house. “What are you looking for?”



“I don’t know” Keira said absently as she rummaged through a box in his room. “I can’t find anything. I’m going in the shed.”



“Mummy doesn’t like us going there!” Sam said. “It makes her sad”



“I’ll be one minute. Wait in the kitchen.” Keira returned with half a leg of a wooden chair, a hammer and a nail. “Do you think you can hit the nail with the hammer?” she asked doubtfully.



Sam looked joyous. “I can! Let me do it! Pleeeease Keira” 



Keira held the nail with her left hand and kept hold of Sam’s arm with her right. It took 47 swings of the hammer to pin the coloured circle to the chair leg.



Keira twiddled the card circle until it wore the centre of the cardboard smooth. Sam spun it, delighted.  “Whoooooosh”.



“It’s not finished yet. You wait!” Keira ran to get the supermarket carrier and a stapler. She opened a cardboard box.



“Ooh fairy lights!” said Sam and he showed all his teeth at once.



“Ok, push the stapler like this. No. Press a bit harder. That’s it. Keep going. Turn the circle. And push the stapler again. Not on the bulb bit, on the wire bit. That battery box bit will have to go on the back. Put two staples on that bit of wire to keep it on. It’s ok, the nail is long. Does it still spin?”



It did still spin. Sam pressed the button on the box and nothing happened. “No batteries. Go get the TV zapper.” Keira took the batteries out of the remote and put them in the fairy light battery pack. Sam pressed the button. He spun the circle and then twirled himself around the kitchen. “Lets show Maisie”.



In the living room, Maisie was busy brushing the fur on a toy kitten the wrong way. She looked up when they entered the room. Keira and Sam demonstrated their creation. Maisie sat up. “Is that a Catherine Wheel? It’s actually quite good”.



Keira grinned. "Now remember. Anyone at school asks you, you say you made it all by yourself".





Day 6 – Word count - 702

Prompt Six

Your character just woke up from a nightmare. What was it about? How did it leave them feeling?



Questions to Consider:

  Are there external causes for this nightmare, or are they all internal?

  Is it a recurring nightmare?



Keira fumbled desperately in the dark for the lamp. Gripping it with both hands, she felt for the switch and pushed it on. The lamp created a dim puddle of light in the corner of her room. She sat upright in bed. Her hair was saturated with sweat. She looked around and relief flooded her painful beating heart. Not real. Not real.



The dreams were always a variation of the same thing. In this one, Keira had been lying in her bed. The room had been a perfect copy. She had awoken, aware of a rumbling noise.  She got up and ran to Maisie and Sam’s room. They were crying out her name in the dark. Suddenly she was filled with a horrible realisation. Something was wrong with the window looking out into the front garden. It was cracking, splintering from frame to frame. The glass smashed and fell onto the floor. The wooden frame snapped and gave way. The stone lintel above the window ripped the curtain pole and curtains from the wall as it crashed down onto the carpet. The noise was getting louder. Keira, with the children in her arms, noticed that the cracks weren’t just in the windows. The wallpaper was splitting, thread-like rifts widening and tearing the walls apart. Keira pulled the children out of the room onto the landing as the plaster fell in chunks onto their beds.



She ran to their mother’s room. The sound was unbearable, not only the crashing and rumbling but Sammy screaming over and over. They couldn’t wake Mum up, they shook her but she was still and heavy. Keira tried to roll her and her arm came away from her body, the flesh emaciated. Keira dropped the arm in horror as she looked at her mother’s face. Writhing maggots filled her eye sockets and mouth. Maisie let out a piercing scream, a single burning note.



Keira lifted Maisie and Sammy under each arm and staggered to the stairs. The bricks were collapsing, wallpaper and paint sticking to each brick as it fell into the garden. She dragged the children to the front door, still solid in amongst the piles of rubble. Keira unbolted the latch and they plunged into the garden. On her knees, Keira could see people coming from the houses all around and the school was emptying with students swarming onto the road. They came into the garden through the gate and over the hedge. They ignored the three of them huddling on the garden path and walked into the house, straight through the spaces where the walls had been. They were turning on lights, opening drawers and cupboards. Keira turned, and craned her neck to see someone upstairs pulling the blankets from her mother’s bed and pulling her apart limb by limb. They tossed her remains down onto the rubble.



And then she saw him. Walking up to the gate, pushing it open calmly and strolling up the garden path. She stood up and pulled the children to their feet. He came towards her and put his hand out to Sammy. Keira yanked Sam back, stumbling around the rubble to the back garden, straining their arms as she pulled them with her. He entered the house through the front door, wandering through the rooms, picking up items and inspecting them before dropping them to the floor. He moved slowly towards the back door. Keira slipped and fell, the children hitting the mossy grass with her. He was coming. She turned on her knees and pushed them behind her. She called out “YOU DON’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE!” Her voice was raw. He was coming.



Desperately Keira began clawing at the ground with her bare hands. “DIG, DIG!” she shouted at Maisie and Sammy. She pulled up handfuls of grass and earth and tore at the soil. The earth was wet and thick. As they ripped the moss from the ground it started to fall away into a hole. The hole was wet, thick, full of a dark liquid that coated their hands. It was welling up out of the ground, the colour of wine. He was coming.



Alone in her bedroom Keira breathed deeply. Not real. Not real.





Prompt Seven

Someone currently in the narrative and important to your character dies and your character witnesses it. Write this scene.





Questions to Consider:

  How does your character cope with death?

  Is the situation dangerous?

  Are there other people around to see this person’s death?



Day seven – Word count 837



29th December 2012 -  Transcript of 999 call



BT Operator: Emergency. Which service?



Keira: I need an ambulance. Please.



Control Operator: Hello, this is the ambulance.



Keira: Please, I need an ambulance. It’s 73 Sandearth Crescent, Hoarley.  Post code is DF15 3XH.



Operator: Is the ambulance for you or someone else?



Keira: (Crying) My mum. She’s taken pills.



Operator: Is she conscious?



Keira: No. I can’t get her to do anything. Please send it as fast as you can.



Operator: It’s on it’s way. Is she breathing at all?



Keira: (Sobs) I don’t know. Oh God.



Operator: Can you see her chest moving?



Keira: I don’t know.



Operator: That’s ok. You have to listen to me. What position is she in?



Keira: She’s..  She’s on the bed. She’s been sick.



Operator: She’s vomited has she?



Keira: Yes. It’s all over. Yes.



Operator: Is she lying on her back or on her side?



Keira: Her back



Operator: Can you look at her chest for me? Is it moving up and down?



Keira: I can’t tell. I don’t know. I think a bit. (crying) Can you please send the ambulance. I need them.



Operator: The ambulance is already on it’s way. It is coming. I want you to stay on the line so you I can help you



Keira: (breathing fast) Ok.



Operator: What’s your name?



Keira: Keira...



Operator: Ok, Keira, I need you to listen to me. You’re doing really well. Help is coming. Can you tilt her head back and look in

her mouth? I need you to check her airway.



Keira: She’s a mess. (sobs with frustration) I can’t get her mouth open.



Operator: Is she flat on her back?



Keira: Yes.



Operator: Is she on the bed?



Keira: Yes (crying)



Operator: Is her head on the pillow?



Keira: Yes



Operator: Move the pillow away. Try again to open her mouth.



Keira: I’ve done it



Operator: Make sure her mouth is clear.



Keira: I think it’s ok. I’ve got it out.



Operator: You’re doing really well. Look at her chest, is it moving?



Keira: Yes, it’s moving. She’s breathing.



Operator: That’s great. Ok, How old is your Mum?



Keira: She’s 35.



Operator: Can you roll her onto her side?



Keira: Pull her over?



Operator: Can you do that for me?



Keira: Yes. I’ve turned her on her side



Operator: That’s good. You’re doing really well. Can you tilt her head back so her mouth is open? In case she’s sick again.



Keira: Yes.  (Sound of door slamming) Don’t come in.



Operator: Keira?



Keira: I don’t want them to come in.



Operator: Who is it Keira? Who’s in the house with you?



Keira: My brother and sister. I don’t want them to see (crying)



Operator: Is anyone else there in the house with you?



Keira: No. It’s just me. I’m the oldest. (Shouting) go downstairs! Look out the window. When the ambulance comes, shout!



Operator: Ok, Keira, you said your mum had taken pills. Do you know what pills they are?



Keira: Asprin. There’s more than one packet



Operator. Ok. Can you pick up the packets for me? How many are there?



Keira: (sound of scrabbling) There’s (crying) 14 packets.



Operator: Right. Keira, check your mum for me, is she still breathing?



Keira: (sobs) I don’t know. Her chest is hardly moving. (crying)



Operator: Right.. I’m going to tell you exactly what to do.  Can you move her onto the floor? Is there space for you to lie her on the floor?



Keira: (indistinct crying and scrabbling)



Operator: Keira?



Keira: I’ve made space



Operator: I want you to try to move her onto the floor.



Keira: Oh God. Oh God. Fuck. She’s bleeding. She’s cut herself.



Operator: Where on her body are the wounds?



Keira: I didn’t see. It’s everywhere. It was under the duvet. I didn’t see.



Operator: Can you see where the blood is coming from?



Keira: Her arms. All along. They’re not here yet.



Operator: Help is on it’s way. They’re coming. Can you try and lift her arms up? Can you apply firm pressure to the wounds?



Keira: It’s everywhere



Operator: Can you see her chest, is she breathing?



Keira: I can’t tell. She’s a mess. She’s got her dressing gown on.



Operator: Ok. Can you keep her arms raised? Try and keep pressure on the wounds. Help will be here soon



Keira: I’m scared. Please (sobbing) I think she’s dying. Please. They’re not here.



Operator: Can you pull open her dressing gown to see if she’s breathing?



Keira: (crying) I can’t see. I don’t think... They’re here. I can hear them. (SHOUTING) Maisie!! Let them in! Open the door!



Operator: Are the crew there? Are they with you?



Keira: Yes.



Call End. 



Certified Copy of an Entry of Death



Date and Place of Death





29th December 2012

73 Sandearth Crescent, Hoarley. DF15 3XH.



Name and Surname of Deceased



Rebecca Bethan Mabey



Sex



F



Date of Birth (if known)



17th June 1977



Occupation



Cleaner



Usual Residency



73 Sandearth Crescent, Hoarley. Pallshire. DF15 3XH.



Cause of Death



Suicide by salicylate poisoning and exsanguination.