Philip is sitting on his bed with his eyes closed thinking about life and it’s ups and downs, the funny thing is he sounds
like an old man but he is only sixteen. He opens his eyes and sits up on his bed and looks out the window at the rain and sighs, he then reaches for the pocket of his school trousers and takes out a small sheet of folded paper.
He opens the paper out and reads it to himself.
A Higher English
A Higher Irish
A Higher Maths
A Higher Science
A Higher Geography
A Higher History
A Higher French
A Higher Business Studies
A Higher Woodwork
A Common C.S.P.E.
The front door downstairs opens and slams and a roar comes up the stairs:
“Philip, get down here now.”
“Oh shit, she’s home.”
Philip walks down the stairs thinking what’s the problem now, the curtains are not in the curtain holders or maybe there is a chair out of place, who knows there’s only one way to find out.
Philip walks into the kitchen to see his mother standing at the counter with a face like a smacked arse.
“Look at the state of this place.”
Philip looks around the kitchen for the so-called errors that he is meant to be looking at.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s a mess.”
“No it isn’t, the dishwasher just needs filling.”
His mother stands at the counter with a face of seriousness.
“Well.”
“Well, what?”
“Where are they?”
“I’m surprised you remembered.”
Philip reaches for his trouser pocket and takes out the folded slip, unfolds it and hands it to his loving mother.
“10 A’s.”
Philip stands in the kitchen leaning against the counter like it was a piece of …you can finish of the sentence yourself.
“Yep.”
“Are you going out tonight with your mates.”
His mother knew that was a touchy subject and that Philip didn’t have any, but God did he want them more than anything, Philip feeling as cocky anymore as he was.
“What mates?”
“You still haven’t got any mates?”
“No.”
“How come?”
Such a stupid question if he knew the answear to that then he would have solved the problem out by now.
“That’s a good question.”
“It’s because you are too sarcastic and won’t give people a chance.”
She should really consider a job in child therapy; by god it’s taken him fifth teen years to figure out why He never had any friends and in the space of two seconds Philip’s mother has finally cracked it, this time I’m not actually being sarcastic I’m being serious his mother actually has cracked it.
“I wonder where I get that from.”
“And what does that mean?”
The first hint of fight and his mother is all ears.
“Take a guess.”
“Don’t get fucking smart with me.”
“I wasn’t getting smart.”
This is kind of hard for him not to get smart after all he did just get 10 A’s in all higher level subjects but his mother wasn’t listening to a word of it.
“You might be smart in school but around here it’s different.”
Guess we know now who is wearing the pants.
“Here we go, round one”, Philip says to himself.
“And what does that mean?”
“You know what it means, you haven’t even said happy birthday yet.”
Bet you weren’t expecting that, now you have to show some compassion.
“I have got you something, it’s in work,”
“You have in your bollocks.”
“Don’t you curse at me in this house.”
So much for the compassion.
“You and Da curse all the time, you make skangers look like angels.”
“We do not; now, get up those fucking stairs.”
So much for not cursing.
“Now”, she roars.
Philip leaves the room in a huff and bangs the kitchen door like a spoiled little girl who can’t have the new Barbie and Ken doll’s.
He walks up the stairs making every step sound like a car falling from the sky.
His mother is in the kitchen starting to fill the dishwasher but gets bored.
Philip is sitting back on his bed and hears the front door open and slam; she has probably gone to get his birthday present or a box of dishwasher tablets.
Philip has just finished crying and now looks scared.
He gets off his bed and he makes his way to his parent’sroom, looks in the wardrobe and at the top shelf finds a box. He takes it down onto the bed and opens it, inside there is a small hand gun which belongs to his dad, it has been handed down through generations of the Jones family, Charlie’s dad Alan passed it to him and his father Paddy handed it him on his 21st birthday, they mustn’t of had the silver key back in them days.
He checks to see if the holster has any bullets in it and sees the holster is full of bullets, the gun had a meaning in the family tradition, if you go through life without using the gun for any problems that you have then it shows you don’t take the easy way out well today Philip is about to break that tradition.
He sits on his bed and puts his finger on the trigger and puts the gun up to his head.
“Happy sixteenth birthday.”
Bang.