Creative writing about a boy called Christian.

Essay by aka_786 March 2007

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Christian pushed his back up against the brick wall behind him and brushed back the dirty-blond hair that had fallen in front of his face, revealing emerald-green eyes, lined with tears. He slid his index finger across his crimson cheek and wiped it dry, only to have the rain strike itself down onto it. He was starting to cool down now, but he could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. The stony ground below him had cut at his bare feet and now they were as sore as hell, but he didn’t care. He had to get away after what he’d done…* * *…The first thing Christian saw when he woke up that morning was the window by his bed and the raindrops that had settled themselves on the glass. He pushed away the blanket that lay on top of him and swung his legs round, so that he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he pulled himself up to his feet. He found a t-shirt in the corner of his bedroom and slid on some combat trousers. When he was dressed, he reached over to his bedside table and picked up a pair of glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose and adjusting the frame.

The screech of his mother’s voice as she shouted at her current partner downstairs ran through Christian’s head and sent shivers down his spine. He winced and leapt his way down the stairs, balancing himself at the bottom and making his way towards the kitchen. He could just make out his mother’s words (“I’ll leave you! I mean it this time!”) and Frank pleading with her yet again. Christian rolled his eyes and slammed the kitchen door shut. He clattered...