Skeletal Read Online Free PDF Page A

again then. I’d probably come across this one again tomorrow.
    ‘Here, girl. Get yourself a drink then,’ the man continued, shoving a half-empty bottle into my hand. Fill your own. Two litre. ’Cause that’s appropriate, right?
    ‘I’m good,’ I say as I turn out of mum’s gropey hands. ‘Is there anything to eat?’
    ‘Course there is love, course there is. I’ll fetch you something. What d’you want? Chips?’
    I nodded and followed Mum through to the lounge proper. There were about twenty people crowded into a space that usually felt confined when it was just the two of us. One of them was stubbing a cigarette out in a beer bottle cap, and then the carpet when it twisted to the side. Stubbing out our damage deposit.
    The low table was covered by opened containers of Chinese food, the soy smell pungent even in the smoke-filled room. That, and the opened flowers of white paper with chips as their centre. Their floral scent grease.
    I tore off an edge of paper, and scooped a couple of handfuls in, turning to take them back to my room. I was pulled into a rough embrace on the couch instead.
    ‘Don’t be leaving us, love. Sit here and talk for a while.’
    Uncle Charles had to shout over the noise from the stereo and the impromptu backing singers, but that didn’t seem to register as a reason his suggestion wouldn’t work. I wriggled forward to the edge of the sofa, about to stand up, but he caught me roughly by the shoulder and pincered me back into place beside him.
    ‘Whatchoo been up to then? Got a job yet?’
    I resigned myself to staying seated beside him, and shook my head. I started to eat the chips. I could be here a while.
    ‘Why not? Why aren’t you helping your mother out?’
    ‘I’m still at school.’
    ‘So? You’re fourteen now, aren’t you? At your age I had a paper round and worked on the milk deliveries.’
    ‘They don’t have milkmen anymore,’ I shouted back. ‘And the only paper round is fully signed up.’
    ‘Those are just excuses. You need to help out more. Your mother can barely get by as it is.’
    I shrugged and continued eating, until the whole parcel hit me in the middle of the face.
    I shrank back into the sofa, blinking, trying to grasp what had just happened. My uncle had hit the food straight into my face. My lips stung where the force of the blow had split it, the salt crept into the fissure and made my flesh scream.
    ‘’Bout time you learned some responsibility, girl,’ Charles shouted at me.
    I burst into tears and tried to leave the couch. It was late. I was tired. I was still hungry. I was sick of these awful people making their awful mess in my awful house. Why did my mother invite them? Why couldn’t she drink alone like a halfway decent alcoholic would? Why was everyone out to get me?
    A blow across the face shut me up. And then Uncle Charles’ face softened. ‘Oh, honey I’m sorry. You just get me riled when you don’t pay attention. Here, let me get you some more food and you clean yourself up.’
    He patted me on the knee, and headed off to the kitchen. I wiped my lip with the back of my hand – blood smeared across it in a wide crimson line. After a second it started to pull upon itself and form into droplets. Clotted.
    I pulled the edge of my sweatshirt over my knuckles, and rubbed my eyes dry. A chip fell from my shoulder onto my lap. I swept my hand behind me and pushed another half-dozen onto the floor. They already smelt of cold grease. My stomach lurched once, twice, and I was running across the room out to the back bathroom. I retched over the toilet and some chips came back up. They hadn’t even started to digest.
    I tried to breathe through my mouth but the smell still overwhelmed me and I retched again. And again. I stopped when the effort grew too great for my stomach muscles to handle. I could still feel my throat trying to gag. Still had the sting of acid in my throat; my stomach. But I just couldn’t anymore.
    There was a