Losing Faith by Sophie Ellis
My eyes welled up with tears as I hugged Katie, Rosie and Yasmine in turn. “I’m going to… sniff sniff… miss you guys so… sniff sniff… much!” I cried in all honesty. I could feel tears trickling down my cheeks but I wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t want to move away to Brookestone Primary. These people were my best friends and I was leaving them forever because of my dad’s stupid work. I’d cried, thrown tantrums and even locked myself in the bathroom for the night but my dad wasn’t changing his mind. No way.
“We’ll miss you more Lydia! You’re our best mate and I don’t know what we’ll do without you!” Katie said. “Come on guys, secret handshake! Knock knock, shake shake, explosion! It’s Katie, Lydia, Yasmine Rosie BFF forever!” We giggled and hugged one last time. I turned to Johnny and hugged him too.
“Bye” I whispered, staring into his eyes. “You’re amazing, you know.” I grinned and ruffled his hair. I walked to Miss Adams and hugged her. “Thanks Miss. You’ve been awesome.” I murmured, slightly nervously.
“Thank you Lydia! Thanks for being such a great pupil.” Miss Adams replied. I smiled and jumped into the car, gazing out of the back window until Willowhill Primary was just a speck in the distance. It had only been five minutes but it felt like I’d lost them already.
I skittered into the playground of Brookestone Primary, my rucksack hung low down my back. I gazed at the floor as everybody turned round to stare at me. The new kid all over again. Skinny girls with their hair flowing way past their shoulders in skirts hitched high above their knees sniggered as I stumbled past, my hair in two geeky bunches and my grey trousers creased and crumpled. “Granny trousers!” one of them laughed as they strutted past. Great. Just great.
“Urm… excuse me… hello… do you… oh… yeah… where’s the head masters office?” I stuttered to no-one in particular. This was a primary school and I couldn’t find my way round. What would I be like at secondary?
A few minutes later, I found myself in class, listening to Miss Bayley, my nagging teacher who looked about one-hundred, witter on about fractions and algebra and the fact that we had GCSE’s in about six years time. I wanted to jump out of my seat, tape her mouth shut and yell “Yes Miss Bayley, you’re right! We do have GCSE’s in SIX YEARS TIME! SIX YEARS! Arr!” and the whole class would erupt into a mob of cheering and whooping children. I didn’t of course. I didn’t have the guts and I soon earned nicknames that I couldn’t possibly write down. Many of them I didn’t understand and I was pretty glad. I hated my dad for what he’d done to me but I hated this school more.
The next day wasn’t any better. Come to think of it, the whole week was pretty dreadful. “Maybe I could pretend I’m polish and that I can’t understand a word that they say! Or, I could just run away. Oh, I know! I could be so naughty that they have no choice but to expel me! No, I don’t do naughty. Maybe I could…” I started before I was rudely interrupted by my mother.
“Maybe, you could try to enjoy yourself!” she grinned and sat down next to me on my bed, offering me a slice of syrup cake. How can you decline an offer like that? (To the syrup cake, I mean!) “How can you expect people to be kind and welcoming to you when all you do is sit with your head down all day, huh?” she questioned. I shrugged my shoulders and she got up to leave. “Just think about it, yeah?” she said and wandered downstairs to see what Sammy was chewing on this time. Sammy is a dog by the way. We don’t have a child that eats everything and anything it finds. That would just be weird. I started to think about what my mum had said and took a bite of syrup cake. Then, I stopped thinking about what my mum had said because the moment the sweet syrup oozes onto your tongue and the fluffy cake tickles your taste buds, syrup cake is the only thing you can think about. Well, that and just how much is left in the fridge and if you might be allowed one more slither! Anyway, once I’d finished my syrup cake I properly thought about what my mum had said. Could it really work? I mean, she’s got a point. Why would people want to make friends with someone who looks stupid, acts stupid and, well, is pretty stupid I suppose? I’m not really stupid, but I don’t know anything at this school. You see, I’ve come in at the middle of term and they’re all doing projects on Pompeii and the big volcano that erupted there. Versuva-wotsit. I didn’t even know what/who/where Pompeii was! So I did what I always do when stuff like this comes along. I gave up.
“So.” I say to myself. “Tomorrow, I’m going to try. I’m going to stride on in there and show them where I stand and that they’re no more important than I am. I’ll make friends and show them that I‘m not stupid… I hope.”
“Have fun honey!” mum shouted. I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
“Yeah, I will!” I grinned and skipped out of the door. I was going to enjoy myself. I just knew it.
Today was great! And (drum roll please!) I made a friend! I know, it’s awesome isn’t it! He, yes HE, is called Sean and he’s GREAT! All the girls love him but he wants to be my friend! You see, this is what happened…
“Lydia Johnson.” Miss Bayley said sharply. I raised my hand and gave her a grin. In return I got a rather disgusted scowl. Better luck next time. I never used to listen in registration and therefore didn’t know anyone’s name. Well, now was my chance to learn. “Hannah Jones.” A hand shot up across the classroom. Right. Shoulder length brown hair and too much eye make-up, Hannah. “Harrish Jyen.” Ok, short Hindu kid with spiky black hair and big brown eyes. “Kevin Matthews.” A tall blonde kid who always slouches. Nice.
And I kind of went on like that until I pretty much had a picture of everyone in the class. Well, almost everyone. Right at the end of the register Miss Bayley called Sean. “Sean Villant.” She snapped. A few girls flicked their hair as they turned round to stare, or should I say gaze, at a boy at the back. He had floppy brown hair, sea green eyes and his head in a book.
“W…what?” he said, looking round frantically. I grinned at him and he grinned back as I nodded in Miss Bayley’s direction. “Oh, urm, here Miss.” He said coolly, leaning back in his chair and relaxing again. I don’t know how he does it; I’d be scared out of my wits!
“Thanks… urm, Lydia?” said a voice from behind me. I jumped and whipped my head round despite the fact that it was the calm and collected voice of a boy I knew. A boy called Sean.
“Thanks for what?” I questioned, trying to sound as chilled out as possible even though he had blatantly scared the living daylights out of me!
He laughed. “Well, for getting me out of more trouble than I am already in with Bayley! You see, I generally know the stuff we get taught in class so I never listen and she flips out! I always have to stay in at first break and write lines! Boring!” he sighed.
“You’ll live I grinned. “Did you know Sean; you’re the first person from this school that I’ve had a conversation with?” he raised his eyebrows.
“Seriously? Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything! Your new here, aint’cha?” he asked. I nodded and sighed. “I know how you feel. Don’t worry, you’ll settle down eventually. So, what do you get up to n your spare time?” he said quizzically. I blushed.
“I love to sing. I don’t go to proper classes; it’s just prancing around my room, y’know? I love to read, but not information, and I love going to the cinema!” I grinned.
“I love singing too, and going to the cinema! I guess you kind of figured I like reading as well. Me and you, we could be mates!” he said to me and grinned.
“That would be great!” I replied and frowned as he slipped a note into my hand. Bayley rattled her annoying maraca that signalled it was time to sit back down. Under the desk I opened up the note and it read: ‘meet me at the cinema on sat, 4 o’clock, and your film choice. S.’ Cool.
Sammy sat eating dads D.I.Y. shoes as I told mum about the cinema. “Ooh! Is it a date?” she asked, her lips twitching into a smile. I stared at her in horror.
“What? No! He’s just a friend and that’s all I want him to be! I’ve decided, if it’s ok with him, to see ‘Karate Kid’ thank you very much!” I cried stubbornly. How dare she think that!
“No Lydia, I think he’d prefer, oh, I don’t know, Romeo and Juliet?” taunted Alisha, my hateful elder sister. I clenched my fists and narrowed my eyes but my mum turned me round and directed me upstairs before I could get my revenge. Bother.
Saturday came and I jumped out of bed. Today was cinema day! Yay! I hopped from foot to foot, trying to find something to keep me busy until 4 o’clock came and when it finally did come, I twirled round, grabbed my coat and jumped into the car. I was on my way.
“Sean, hi!” I cried and I ran out of the car towards him. He waved.
“Hiya! So, what do you fancy watching?”
“Urm… maybe ‘Karate Kid’? I don’t mind, if you don’t want to!” I answered shyly.
“No, I’d love to!” he said, beaming. “I’m so glad you didn’t say something like ‘Romeo and Juliet’! I can’t stand soppy films!” he laughed, and I nodded, despite the fact it’s actually one of my favourites! In your face, Alisha!
Back at school, I sat next to Sean. The cinema was great and we’d planned to meet up on Friday for a movie night in at his house. Exciting or what! “What are you doing sitting next to a freak Sean?” asked Hannah whilst twiddling her hair and batting her eyelashes.
“Freak? Where, where? Oh, I see, the girl in front of me who thinks she’s Cheryl Cole!” Sean commented. Hannah scowled and strutted off, serves her right!
Sean and I had been firm friends for weeks and I found out that he has a little sister called Sara, his favourite colour was lime green, that he loved to watch friends and other typical things good mates know about each other. We sit together all the time and practically all the girls are jealous, especially Hannah. “So Lydia, are you free Saturday evening?” Sean asked. I shrugged.
“Suppose so, why?” I answered
“I’ve got a surprise. Come to my house, say, sixish?”
“Urm, ok. See you then.” I frowned. What did he have in store this time?
“My whole world is falling apart, and I might not be able to fix it back together,” I whispered, rocking back and forth. Sean was right, Saturday was a surprise. As I got into his car and he told me where we were going, I got the surprise of my life. “Lydia,” he grinned. “We’re taking you up to London,” my eyes widened. “To see a West End show!” he announced. I screamed and jumped up and down in my seat. London!
“But… what…thank you! But… my... I…” I stuttered. Sean laughed at the look on my face.
“Seeing as you love singing so much we thought it’d be great fun to go and see ‘Wicked.’” My mouth dropped open in awe and I couldn’t say anything. “Your mum knows, the cost is sorted and we’ve got sweets and drinks and all sorts.” He explained and I reached over and gave him a hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you so much.”
‘Wicked’ was, well, wicked! It was like ‘The Wizard of Oz’ but starting earlier on and from the wicked witch’s point of view. We both loved it and cheered extra hard at the end when the scarecrow came on. He was our favourite. I offered Sean a Haribo and grinned at him but he didn’t grin back, just stared at me solemnly. “Lydia.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Was he tired or… no! He was crying! I bit my lip in worry. What was going on? “I’ve got something I have to tell you.” He croaked. “I’m moving away.” My heart stopped and I felt like I was swaying.
“No. No you’re not. You can’t be, you’re my best friend! My only friend.” I whispered. Big fat tears rolled down our cheeks and he took my hand.
“I won’t be going to Brookestone any more. I’m so sorry.” He said as we got up to leave. He walked on ahead, like he couldn’t bare to look at me and it felt like he was walking away forever. And I had to let him go.
On the journey home I pretended to sleep. I didn’t want Sean to see me cry! I didn’t even want him to know I cared. Why didn’t he tell me before? I thought he liked me, I thought we were friends. I guess I thought wrong.
The moment I got home I stopped pretending to sleep, grabbed my coat and ran into my house, not even bothering to mumble my thanks to Miss Villant. I didn’t want to, seeing as she was probably in on the whole thing. I ran upstairs, two steps at a time, charged into my room, jumped onto my bed and curled up into a ball to cry. I clutched Blue-ted and wept and wept until my mouth was dry and my eyes were tired. Sammy’s footsteps padded up the stairs and he whined as he hopped up onto my bed. He knows when I’m sad so I cuddled him closely whilst moving Blue-ted well out of the way. He was not going to be Sammy’s next chew toy. I stroked him tenderly and burrowed my face into his warm fur. “At least you love me, Sammy.” I sighed. “At least you care. You’re the only one apart from Katie, Yasmin, Rosie and Johnny, but they’ve probably forgotten me now. Everyone else is horrid, horrid, horrid. But I don’t care because I’ve got you. I just hope that’s enough.” And I slept.
Sean’s leaving day was unbearable. He came to school with his head down and all the girls piled presents in little heart shaped boxes onto his desk. Sean didn’t even give a second glance, didn’t even say thank you. We both sat alone at playtime and at lunch I hardly touched any food until I couldn’t bare it any more. I shovelled down my whole plate of food, ran to the girls toilets and was sick all over myself. All the people near me squealed and jumped out of the way. My hands and clothes were covered in horrid, sticky sick and I felt faint. People were running to find a teacher and I soon found myself packing my bag and being marched out of school. People stared at me sorrowfully as Miss Bayley pushed me along and on the way, I saw Sean. As I walked past, he mouthed sorry and, for the second time, slipped a note into my hand, watching to see my reaction. I stared back and tore the note into tiny confetti pieces, not even bothering to read it. I dropped the tiny scraps of paper and marched up to him. “Get lost!” I said, and walked away.
“Come here babe,” Mum said, and I hugged her tight, not wanting to ever let go. At home, she tucked me up in bed, made a hot chocolate and stroked my hair. “I want Sammy,” I whispered.
“Sammy’s gone for a walk with Alisha. They’ll be back any minute.” And like magic, the door clicked open.
“Mum, Mum!” cried Alisha. She sounded frantic and mum and I exchanged worried looks. “Mum, its Sammy! I hooked him up to a lamppost when I went into Tesco’s to get a drink but when I came out again he was… gone.” She said, coming into my room and falling into mums arms. “I’ve looked everywhere he just… I … what shall I do mum?” she stuttered. I stared at her, filled with hatred.
“What, is the point of you?!” I yelled. My eyes misted over as my voice reduced to a whisper. “What is the point?”
We didn’t find Sammy for weeks and weeks. We contacted the vet, posters went out and we searched every last inch of this town, calling until our throats were dry. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Why do all things precious to me have to always go and get lost?
At school, everyone was making a big deal about some all-singing all-dancing talent show. Like I was going to enter! School was like a chore. You get forced to work and write and listen and participate. “Are you going to enter?” smirked Amy, the girl who called me granny trousers. I just stared right through her smiling pink lips and her perfect fair hair. “I’m singing Madonna, ‘Tick Tock’! I bet you couldn’t sing to save your life, Bird Brain!” she laughed and strutted off. I didn’t care. Yes I did. And I could sing.
“Yes, I am actually!” I yelled after her. She stared at me in surprise. “I’m singing Taylor Swift, ‘Teardrops on my Guitar’ and I’m going to prove you wrong, Horse Face!” I announced proudly. Her face fell. Who’s laughing now?
At home, I was straight on the computer, looking for song lyrics. Taylor Swift was my inspiration and I was going to do her song proud. I played it over and over until I could really see it. I was no longer looking at my song words; I was looking at the boy in the song, Drew, and my tear-splashed guitar. I couldn’t just see the song, I could feel it too, and that meant I was doing well, because when you really feel a song it runs through though your veins like an oxygen supply. When you get to that stage, it’s simply magic.
The day of the talent show came and no-one could concentrate. Nerves filled the room and even people who weren’t competing hopped about from foot to foot. The hall started to fill and everybody was la-la-la-ing and stretching and deep breathing. I just sat thinking. I was reluctant to think about this crazy talent show mess I’d gotten myself into so I told myself to think about something else, anything else! The first thing that popped into my head was Sean and I felt bad. Had he cried when I told him to get lost? I felt really bad. It wasn’t his choice to move and I’d hated him for something that wasn’t his fault. I had to see him but I didn’t have an address or phone number or anything! I’d been so stupid. But it was too late now. The show was starting! “Hello, ladies and gentlemen!” boomed the head. I forgot to mention, all of our parents were allowed to come and watch too. Uh oh.
Amy was good. We had to sit backstage and weren’t aloud to peep through the curtains but we could hear her and once she’d finished a cheer erupted and a few boys wolf whistled. What was I thinking? I had no chance now and she was only the first competitor! A few groups of boys did comedy dances but the best were evidently a group who did Cheryl Cole, ‘Fight for This Love’ as the whole audience were falling about with laughter. Hannah’s dance group messed up their routine and Hannah came storming through the curtains, ranting at her ‘Hannah-etes’. Then it was my turn. I stumbled on stage feeling dizzy and sick and when I saw my mum I thought I was going to faint but nevertheless, I grasped the microphone in my sweaty palms and started to sing. “Drew looks, at me, I, fake a smile, so he won’t see…” I sing and then I stop shaking, stop feeling sick. I feel the music instead. And it really is magic.
“Drew looks, at me, I, fake a smile so he wont, seeee!” I finished and opened my eyes. 400 pairs of eyes stared back; then, the hall is filled with a deafening cheer. People started to start to stand up! Slowly at first but eventually the whole audience was on its feet and 400 people were whooping and clapping. Whooping and clapping for me. I grin and take a shy bow, laughing because this is my dream come true.
“Well! What a show!” cried the head and a few cheers came from the crowd. All the contestants were lined up on the stage. “Now, there’s something that we haven’t told you. You will probably have guessed that there is a prize for this show but we have something very special in store. You see, we’ve been in touch with the local performing arts school…” started the head, and a gasp came from 300 pupils, all wishing they’d entered. “The winner will be presented with a scholarship that will get them a place in the school for weekend classes, a place in the school that has founded many young superstars. So, the spectators have had their say and our 4 fabulous judges have chosen a winner from the top 5 highest voted competitors. So, the winner, of the Brookestone all-singing, all-dancing talent show is…” my throat went dry and everyone held their breath as the head was handed a golden envelope, out of which he drew a slip of paper. “By a huge 96 audience vote and 3 out of 4 judge votes…” the person next to me squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. “The hugely talented… Lydia Johnson!” I stopped breathing. Of course I’d heard wrong! But if I had, why was everyone staring at me? Suddenly, the audience erupted into a yelling, cheering, shouting, whooping mass of people. I cried tears of joy and fell to my knees. No way! I ran off stage and up to my mum, hugging her tight and crying onto her shoulder. Weirdly, I felt something licking my fingers. It couldn’t be.
“Sammy!” I yelled as my beautiful dog threw himself on me, licking my face while the audience laughed.
“Someone found him wandering around the streets and took care of him until they saw our posters! They contacted us this morning!” explained my mum, laughing along with everyone else. I hugged her again. When the audience finally died down I was handed a shimmering gold trophy and my scholarship, perfectly fitted to a beautifully engraved frame. I was going to be a STAR!
It was only 3 weeks later and I was at the ‘Oak-tree School of Performing arts’ on a Saturday. A tall boy with floppy black hair showed me round the beautifully elegant school, filled with laughter, joy but best of all music that could show me the pathway to being a super star. People smiled and said hello, like they already new me. “And this,” said the boy. “Is the room for your first lesson, but is also like your Tutor room. You’ll meet here every Saturday or Sunday morning.”
“Thank you!” I exclaimed ecstatically. I grinned at him and he gave me a wink.
“You’re a good kid. Have fun!” he smiled and walked off. I took a deep breath and stepped inside the room, taking a seat at the back.
“And you must be Lydia! Hi, I’m Mr Hower, your main teacher.” He said.
“Yes I am. Thank you.” I said and sat up eagerly to listen. Mr Hower was young and smiley. He reminded me of my first teacher in reception, Mr Coalbank. A few rows in front of me was a boy with floppy brown hair who reminded me of Sean. “I wish I could see Sean.” I sighed. I missed Sean. The register started and I just wanted to get going! There were about 20 of us and I couldn’t wait for the singing class to start. The register was nearly over as Mr Hower was on U.
“And last but not least,” Mr Hower said, and I started to get excited. “Sean Villant.” I froze. A boy a few rows ahead with floppy brown hair and sea green eyes turned round to face me. “Here Sir.” He grinned, and I suddenly felt whole again. I didn’t feel lost.
The End.
