China Doll

Blood. That’s all I remember. Lots of sticky vicious blood. Let me ask you...have you ever seen you best friend lying motionless of the ground, in think mud, bones broken body twisted like a rag doll nobody wants, with bloody tears blurring her eyes? Now tell me, would you be the reason they were there? No? I thought not. Funny how life turns out isn’t it?1

We were on our way back from the National Gallery, and we had had to leave early due to our “bad...no...vulgar behaviour” which, if you asked me could only have been expected. I mean, come on, boys don’t want to mope around quietly looking at portraits of Renaissance gentlefolk in their grandiose gilt frames. And girls? We had better things to do too it’s called living in this era.2

Anyway, as I was saying, we are all on the coach, and I’m sitting with Louise who I have known since primary school. She’s really kind, and never forgets anyone’s birthday. She says it’s “her only gift”. She’s always been there for me. I know I’m going to miss these guys, Class Y. It’s our last year at “Goodmoth” School before some of us leave to go to college. Most of us will probably just get casual work if we can get a job. But who’d want to hire any of the worst kids in “broken Britain”?3

The driver is giving us the “if you don’t sit down and stop eating, I will destroy you with my sarcasm” look. He catches my eye and he leers. However it wasn’t smug or happy..it was sinister, evil even. It wasn’t until later I understood his expression. It wasn’t until it was too late.4

“Hey Amber, want to sign my yearbook?”5

“Yeah sure,” I smiled, Natasha has been one of my best friends since nursery, she’s so smart and promising. I know she’ll go far in life. At least one of us will. I picked up her pen and wrote the following message: I’m not writing “goodbye” because I know I’ll be stuck with you tomorrow, so I’ll see you soon  can’t wait for your birthday party, going to be awesome!6

I added a couple of X’s and passed it back to her, as she read it a huge grin crept across her face.7

“Picture!” shouted Matt, my other best friend. He’s quiet in class but unfortunately never shuts up around us. He grabbed Natasha, Louise and I and before I could replace the confused look on my face with a cheesy smile, a white flash of light temporally blinded my eyes and printed a picture automatically. He waved it at us smiling. It was a good picture, not fake or staged It was the last time i ever felt truly happy. Then my world went dark.8

I was awoken by clawing screams.9

But, I hadn’t fallen asleep...had I?10

Another blood curdling scream rang out forcing my eyes open.11

The first thing I saw was the blood stains on my palms. Then the shackles, thick, metallic, grimy cuffs encircling my wrists. I looked up to see the mellow looking coach driver on a mobile phone with a gun swinging hastily on his index finger swinging back and forth as he talked, liked it was an everyday object he was accustomed too, like a pen or cigarette. His hair was tousled and he had stubble all over his face, as though he hadn’t had a wash in a fortnight. He put down his mobile and then directed his gaze at us. Everyone stopped screaming. It was like pure fear had swallowed our voices. The man smiled and coughed roughly before speaking; “She’ll be here soon so I wouldn’t be screaming so loudly if I were you. We are in the middle of nowhere and frankly it’s just annoying.” He coughed once more and vociferously loaded his gun.12

It was only at this moment I actually looked around me. We were in a wooden cabin, like the kind you find in a forest were the ranger lives. There was a desk, two chairs and behind the desk, an old fashioned black board, it was immaculately clean. There was hoards of paper and maps of what I guessed to be the surrounding area, as well as an A3 paper pined to the wall with pictures and names of our class. Whoever these people were they definitely prepared. 13

Just then, the door of the cabin creaked open, a woman walked in. She had smart black pumps and a crimson shirt on, with a black pencil skirt and brown, dead straight hair. She closed the door and pushed her fringe behind her ear. It was only when she did this we all realised who she was.
“Ms Birch?!” Someone called out,
“Ms Birch, help us! This guy...” someone else screamed out.
Ms Birch pulled out a gun in one hand and a knife in the other before lifting up her head and smiling. Ms Birch had been our tutor in year 7 until this year when a delinquent youth in our class had stabbed her in the arm by accident, whilst trying to hide a knife. We had blamed it on her, cleaned u the blood and framed her and she had got fired on the spot and two months in jail. I never thought I’d see her again. She walked past Abby, a girl in our class, as she began to cry Ms Birch lifted her hand and slapped her face with the gun before proceeding to the front of the cabin.14

“Hello students, firstly, I want you to know a few things. Yes I did go to jail, I lost everything thanks to you...brats! My job, my home, my fianc&#; and get this, my children. Hilarious isn’t it? After jail I got proclaimed mentally unfit to look after my own children!” At this she flung the knife into the middle of the black board, making an enormous slash down the middle piercing the many maps and charts. “But no hard feelings right?” She smiled. “You are all going to repay me and I’ll show the world how “mentally unfit” I really am!”15

She then directed her attention towards the coach driver “Leave know-one” She hissed. We heard mumbling from the two conspirators but they were to quiet to hear. I looked at my hands once again; they were shaking, rattling like a mad person.16

Natasha scrambled to her feet and bolted to the door. I screamed, “Tasha, No!” She turned her head towards me as a bullet screeched through the air, puncturing her, penetrating her soft china like skin I shakily stood up and ran to her.17

Tears clung to her eyes, making them shimmer in the light, blood filled her mouth like a tap filling a sink. I was on my knees just outside the cabin, Natasha laid in my arms, dying. Her head seemed to shake as she turned to look at me. Blood poured excessively from the wound. A single pain filled tear slid down her porcelain like cheek. She opened her mouth to talk then closed it again. A tear is worth a thousand words. She closed her eyes as I scooped up her lifeless, motionless body.18

Little did I know her eyes would never open again.19

I heard the cabin door open, but knew I had no time to respond.
I knew this was my only chance, I ran. I ran as fast as I could, a bloody corpse in my arms, legs flaying like a madman .
I ran through those woods as fast as my frail legs could carry me, shackles chafing my wrists.20


I carried on running.21

I reached a road, civilization at last.22

I stopped.23

The headlights were already on me.24

A screech of brakes. 25

The vulgar smell of rubber burning my skin.26

The world went dark...again.27