Don't Even Think About It Read Online Free PDF

passed her, she belted me on the back of the legs with a stick she’d been hiding down the side of her wheelchair. That’s what I mean by nasty. For no reason, she just lashed out. It really stung too – I had a red stripe on my legs for about an hour afterwards. But as usual, I said nothing.
    Poor Ruth, my foot. She wasn’t abandoned by her mother, was she? I bet that’s worse than being in a wheelchair. Well, maybe not worse, but definitely as bad, in a different way. At least she has her two parents around.
    And she has a brother too, which is more than I have. That was another thing I was sorry about when Mam left, that I hadn’t any brothers or sisters, just Dad.
    Anyway, that’s the story of my nasty neighbour. The Wallaces’ cat is nice, all lovely soft grey fur. It’s a he – I checked after we had a lesson on cats – and I call him Misty, but that’s not his real name. Of course I can’t ask Ruth what it is, and I’ve never heard anyone calling him anything. Mrs Wallace just says ‘puss, puss’ when she’s calling him.
    I suppose I just have to put up with the nastiness from Ruth. It can’t be much fun being in a wheelchair, even though it means never having to mow the lawn, or take out the bins. But it must be hard to see everyone else running around having fun; it must make her feel really sad. And maybe Bumble’s right, maybe she needs someone like me to lash out at sometimes.
    I just wish she’d picked someone else, that’s all.

Five o’clock, Friday, near the end of May.
    We got a new computer yesterday. Well, not brand new – one they were throwing out from Dad’s work – but it’s still in fairly good condition. I told Dad it’d be a big help to me for doing my homework, and he kind of snorted and said since when did I become so studious, and I ignored him, naturally.
    But it made me think. With a computer you can send e-mails.
    And Mam works on a computer all the time now, so she definitely has an e-mail address.
    I know we talk on the phone every day, but sometimes it’s easier to write things down than to say them. Especially when you want to ask tricky questions like ‘When am I going to see you again?’ and stuff like that.
    It’s been five months since I’ve seen her. I wonder if she looks the same. I know people don’t change all that much in a few months, but still.
    Sometimes when I try to see her face in my head I can’t, and I have to look at a photo of her to remind myself what she looks like. And that is very scary.
    We don’t have too many photos of anyone in the house – our camera is embarrassingly old, and nobody is that interested in using it – but we have a video with Mam in it. It’s from their tenth wedding anniversary, about five years ago, and some friends of theirs had a surprise party for them in their house, and made a video and gave it to them afterwards.
    It says ‘Anniversary’ on the side of the cassette, and it’s probably still sitting on the shelf behind the telly, along with
The Wizard of Oz
and
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
and Dad’s Laurel and Hardy collection, and a few others.
    We watched the anniversary video a lot at the start – or at least I did. It was like eavesdropping on Mam and Dad when they were out at night, and I loved it. Mam wore a blue dress with see-through sleeves, and her hands flew up to her face when they walked in the door and all their friends shouted ‘Surprise!’. She and Dad looked really happy in the video. They kissed when their friends drank a toast to them.
    I might be able to watch it again sometime, but I think I’ll stick to the photos for now.
    In case you’re wondering, here’s a description of Mam:
    Â 
  
Height:
About 168cm
  
 
Hair:
Short and straight, brown but dyed red
 
 
Eyes:
Grey
 
 
Lipstick:
Rust-coloured, matching her hair
 
 
Anything else:
Three holes in one ear, two