Creative Writing: What The Fuck Are You Laughing At?

1454 Words 6 Pages
“What the fuck are you laughing at?!”

My Mum comes stampeding in my room. She opens the door with such force that it almost flies off its hinges. At this point, whatever I was laughing at didn 't seem funny anymore. I wiped the tears away from my eyes to banish my blurred vision and regained eyesight, revealing a small yet frightening woman who resembled a bull that had seen red; she might as well have had hot steam coming out of her airways and been scraping away at my bedroom carpet with her back hoof.

“I 'm glad you find this so fucking funny!” she screams. She pulls the covers off me and grabs me by the hair, hoisting me up on my feet. Even though a proportion of my hair was just ripped out of my scalp, I couldn 't ignore the fact that
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I put my face close up to the car window and peered inside, only to discover the mess of CD 's on the dashboard and ripped car seats. I turned my back to the shitty red Corsa and leaned against the car in disappointment. I sighed, putting my head in my hands and rubbing my eyes. Reopening them, I spotted something bopping up and down in the distance behind the gate to my back garden. I squinted, adjusting my eyes to clarify that I wasn 't just seeing things. Upon further inspection I came to realise that it was Freddie frantically raving behind the closed …show more content…
I searched his wardrobe but I found nothing but a couple of hangers and a few empty bottles of alcohol. In desperation, I turned to scan the floor for anything to cover myself. I picked up the first item of clothing I saw, which was a creased Danger Mouse top that would be miles too small for me. I put it on along with a pair of jogging bottoms I found laying on the bed. (which is basically just a mattress on the floor). I used one of Freddie 's old socks to wipe the grime off his mirror and looked at myself. Fucking hell. This is rock bottom isn 't it? I placed myself on Freddie 's beanbag; tossing and turning my body in hope of comfort, trying not to think about laying in my bed, buried in an avalanche of duvets and

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