Cringing at Goodbye

~ Kel

Oh. My. God.
I cannot believe that I’m putting myself through this…
This is not wise…

Several months ago now, I saw a series of posts from
Tara, from Letters2Emma
which made up a story which she’d written as [I believe] a 10-year-old; she found it on her computer – the root source of all evil.
Anyways, today, I found a file on my computer called ‘Goodbye’, last edited in the year 2012, making me just 10-years-old when I made it. ‘Writing suicide notes so soon?’ I thought to myself. ‘Was 10-year-old me having that many issues with Year 5 Mathematics?’
I opened it up, and realised that it was a story which I’d written, aged 10. Come to think of it, I vaguely remember writing it, but I’ve had to reread it to figure out the plot – or, the element to the story that SHOULD be a plot.
[Trust me, it makes literally 0 sense whatsoever…]
As a way of entertaining my lovely readers, and to make myself cringe unbelievably, I have decided to post this amazing story on my blog… Just for you. There will be one ‘section’ a day, which will mean the story lasts for 10 days in total. I really hope you enjoy it.

Please just bare in mind that:
A] 10-year-olds have crappy grammar
B] I was, based on this, a slightly psychopathic kid… Make your own judgements

And so, with no further ado…

GOODBYE: PART ONE

Thursday 18th April

A deadly silence consumed our single room house. A silence that lasted for much longer than it normally does. Normally, Mummy or Daddy (when he isn’t mining coal) breaks the silence – for my benefit, I suppose. Today, that didn’t happen.

“Ciao,” said my mum, beckoning me over to her. Reluctantly, I put down my book, stood up and trotted over to my mother, sitting next to her on the floor.
“Yes Mummy?” I squeaked in my high, pathetic voice.
“Only speak when spoken to!” yelled my mother, the look on her face switching to one of fury. Then, it relaxed.

I wasn’t angry; I knew what was going on at home. I knew we had no money and I knew that Daddy might lose his job. So I wasn’t angry. I nodded.

“I’m sorry to say this Ciao but… but… you’re going to have to leave school.” The words hit me like a steam train.
“What?” I couldn’t help but say. “I mean, p-pardon?”
“Your father has lost his job,” explained my mother. “I can’t work because of the baby. You’ll have to work on Miles Farm.” Miles Farm? That’s about 200 miles away; I’ll have to go by train.
“What time will I get back to see you every night Mummy?” I asked.
“Ciao,” said my mother, “you wont be coming home. You’ll stay at Miles Farm.”

The next thing I knew, I was curled up in my bed, crying, crying, crying. Whatever I tried, the tears wouldn’t stop. I was going to Miles Farm. Miles Farm which was miles and miles away.

32 thoughts on “Cringing at Goodbye”

  1. Wow, I have no idea what your on about, that is like a million times better than what my 10 year old self would write. Like, seriously. By the way, I love the name Ciao although people in Italy would probably get very confused!

    Just if you wanted to know, ten year old me wrote stuff like: “Maia recognised this smile, it was used when Mrs Minton knew something about a Christmas present or gift, the kind of smile she put on before Maia’s parents had died.”

    Don’t ask me why you’d smile at somebodies death but yeah.

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  2. From your description I was expecting that to be horrible, but once again you’ve proved me wrong, Mr L! Considering you were ten when you wrote that, that’s so good! Heck, I know people my/our age and older who can’t write that well!
    I totally get the whole cringiness thing though; I recently found some of my writing from when I was also 10, and IT IS SO WEIRD! My names for people were hilarious. For example: Miss Something (a teacher), and Dr Sinister (an evil guy). But no way would I be sharing that on my blog, haha, so I’d say you’re pretty brave for sharing something that you would deem so cringy (even though it is actually really good!)

    Liked by 1 person

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  6. How does a 10 year old possess the ability to write such a chilling story like I’ve found stories I’ve written at 10 and there is one that is like “Lucy doesn’t talk to me anymore. I’m in my room. My dog jumped on my bed” like what a disjointed tale

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  7. Your ten year old self wrote stories that actually made sense and DIDN’T sound like sad rip off of Nancy Drew xD. No kidding, I was OBSESSED with Nancy Drew at that age (tbh, I still sorta am XD. I decided to write a book (a fricking BOOK) when I was ten, and it was a TOTAL rip off . I gave up after 7 chapters, though XD

    Liked by 1 person

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  8. Pingback: Humiliating Myself – Writings of a Younger Elm, Number 1 – Just Call me Elm Or Something

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