What If. . .?

“Go to your room,” mum says, her angry face on. I say,                                                            “I don’t want to,” but she stares at me in the eyes, my vulnerable eyes and I’m gone upstairs for another day. I look at my dog and say,                                                                                  “I love my family, but what if I was in charge?” I smile and think of what I’d do: I would run over the hills and walk along the beach in the morning dew. Maybe I could have an ice cream and walk slowly into the sea with a friend called Sue. That’s what I would do if I was in charge.


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