Julia Jones - The Teenage Years: Book 1- Falling Apart - A book for teenage girls

by Katrina Kahler

fear.

  “It’s not safe to walk home alone at night time, Julia!” I heard my mother’s voice ring in my ears. “Always make sure you’re with a friend, or call me to pick you up. I don’t want you walking alone at night!”

  Her futile warning raced through my mind, just as I felt the brush of an arm against mine and my sharp intake of breath left me unable to utter a sound.

  Frozen with fear, I stood rooted to the spot as I opened my mouth in an attempt to scream. But to my complete and utter relief, the man, a total stranger it seemed, raced past me and kept on going.

  I gripped a hand to my chest, trying to ease the panicked rush of adrenalin that had left me breathless and in shock, and I forced myself to keep on walking. Breathing deeply I took in gulps of air, calming myself as I hurried along, at that point keener than ever to reach the safety of my house. Then, just as I turned a corner and the familiar outline of our neighbor’s distinct two storey A-framed home appeared in view, I caught a glimpse of some movement from a section of tall, bushy shrubs that had been planted alongside the edge of the pavement. It created a thick screen of privacy for the vacant block behind it. That particular section of the street was poorly lit and I had to peer into the darkness to make out the dark shape that was partly hidden from sight.

  When I realized abruptly that the movement wasn’t being caused by an animal, I was instantly overcome with anxiety and fear. Then, as I approached that section of bush, peering out from his hiding spot, I could just make out the man who had only minutes earlier hurried past me. For a split second, I looked towards him in confusion; then, with a sudden flash of comprehension, realization hit.

  It was at that instant, my feet seemed to take on a life of their own and sprinting, I raced for my front gate which stood at least fifty yards away, a silent sentinel in the darkness of the night. The scream I could hear seemed to be coming from someone else but when I felt his firm grip on my arm, the sound springing from my lips intensified and would not stop.

  That vacant block had been there for years, and I remembered vaguely that my brother and I often used to play there in our childhood. It had been a meeting place for all the neighborhood kids and we had passed many hours playing hide and seek amongst those very bushes, the thick foliage creating a perfect place to hide. I remembered the tension I would feel when someone was close to finding me and I would hold my breath in the hope that I could remain hidden.

  It was very strange how thoughts like those could flash by during moments of terror. The scene had a surreal quality and I felt as though I were a spectator, watching the events take place from above. But then, quite suddenly, I felt the grip on my arm loosen and I was able to break free. Perhaps it had been my piercing screams that had allowed me to escape, that and also the bright light that had appeared in the front window of the house across the road.

  Without stopping or even once looking back, I fled to my front gate and down the darkened driveway. Racing up the steps to the front veranda, I fumbled for the key that we always kept hidden in the basket of one particular pot plant that hung overhead. My shaking fingers reaching inside, I felt around desperately for the familiar metal shape, realizing with a rising panic that it was nowhere to be found.

  Frantically, I banged on the door and turned the knob, furiously pulling at it in every direction. My hope was that perhaps by some miracle it may actually be unlocked. But it would not budge. Then, as if in answer to my prayer, it abruptly swung open and I fell into the arms of my brother, Matt.

  “What’s your problem, Julia? It’s a wonder you didn’t break the door down!” His smart tone, dripping with attitude, just made me angry. My fear abating as I realized that I was safe at last, turned my anger to rage.

  “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer the phone,” I yelled. “Where’s Mom? I needed a lift home and no one would answer the phone.”

  “Geez, Louise!” he said sarcastically, “what’s got into you?”

  “Some weirdo just tried to grab me! But do you even care? No, of course you don’t. All you care about is yourself! I hate you!”

  Screaming at him, my face flushed with tears and an overwhelming anger, I ran past him and up the stairs, slamming shut my bedroom door. Then I threw myself onto my bed and sobbed.

  Decisions…

  I woke to the sound of my alarm buzzing furiously in my ear. Beeeep. Beeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeeep.

  “Shut that thing off!” I could hear my brother’s voice from down the hallway.

  It was so typical of him to be totally inconsiderate of anyone else in the house who might still be sleeping, but I guessed that my alarm would have already woken everyone up, anyway.

  It was then my thoughts drifted to the night before and in a flash it all came flooding back. Rolling my head into the pillow, I squeezed my eyes closed, wanting to shut out the world and the day ahead. Just as I was considering the idea of faking an illness and taking the day off school, I heard my mother’s voice.

  “Time to get up you two! Barry will be here soon, he still has several days’ work before he’ll be finished doing all the jobs that need to be done. He’s starting on the bathroom this morning, so if you want a shower, you’d better be quick!”

  “Oh great!!” The loud groan that escaped my lips as I forced myself out of bed was full of disgust.

  The option of going to school appealed much more than having to be in the house all day with Barry. He made me really uncomfortable. And I did not fancy a day at home with him hanging around. So with a sigh, I made my way quickly to the bathroom and locked the door before Matt could try to claim it first.

  At breakfast, my mother’s smiling, cheery mood just made me more irritable and for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to even mention what had happened the night before. Although I couldn’t resist complaining about the fact that she hadn’t answered her phone.

  “Oh sorry, darling!” she smiled at me, really quite unperturbed at the thought of missing my call. “I went out for a bit and must have accidentally switched my phone off.”

  I eyed her suspiciously then, wondering where she had actually been. It was so out of character for her to be acting this way. But wanting to be out of the house before Barry arrived, I didn’t bother to question her further and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl as I headed for the door.

  “Have a great day,” she called, as I closed the front door firmly behind me and made my way down our driveway towards the bus stop.

  “Yeah, right!” I sighed. “And as if you really care!”

  Miserably, I stood waiting for the bus, angry thoughts of my mother and her weird behavior playing on mind. But this was soon overcome with a sharp sensation of anxiety when, glancing around me, I happened to look in the direction of the vacant block down the street.

  The fear I had felt just the night before, returned with a sharp jolt as I recalled the traumatic series of events. I knew that I really should report the incident, but what good would it do? I didn’t have a clear description, so how could anything be done about it? But the memory made me very uneasy, and although it was full daylight and the street was busy with commuters driving to work, I could not help but constantly glance over my shoulder.

  When I made my way into Math class later that morning, I rolled my eyes at the sight of Jackie and her entourage drooling over Mr. Ryland who had his back turned and was busily writing on the board.

  “Check out that butt!” whispered Jackie to the girl alongside her. And giggling, they continued to drivel over the sight of the handsome young teacher standing in front of us.

  Turning around with a frown, Mr. Ryland ignored the looks from the girls and asked everyone to open their books. He appeared to be a pretty good Math teacher and seemed to be capable of explaining tricky concepts in a way that was easy to understand. Definitely not like other Math teachers who I had experienced in the past, usually droning on with complex language and explanations that were completely beyond me. So much so that I had sat there unable
to comprehend what they were talking about. Plus they’d been so boring and just seemed to talk on and on and on.

  The Math teacher at my last school was so mind-numbing that one boy had actually fallen asleep at his desk. His friend had given him a quick poke but the boy had been out cold and it had taken quite a decent shake of his shoulders to actually wake him up. The look of confusion on his face when he scanned the room, realizing that everyone in the class was staring at him and in fits of laughter just exacerbated the situation, and the whole class had completely erupted. Even our teacher had started laughing and that was something we’d thought he was actually incapable of.

  As I sat quietly in my seat listening to the sound of Mr Ryland’s mesmerizing voice, I forced myself to concentrate on the calculation that he was demonstrating on the board. While I acknowledged the fact that he was certainly very cute, I still thought of him as my Math teacher and had decided that his clear explanations would help me to improve my grades. As long as I managed to focus on what he was teaching! So, while I attempted to ignore the undercurrent of flirting that was taking place around me, I also ensured that at all costs I avoided eye contact with Blake, who sat in his usual spot next to Sara at the back of the room.

  Sara had definitely noticed Blake glancing my way on a few occasions.