a quiet place

I’m sitting in the middle. My older sisters either side of me, arguing. It’s a long journey, but we’re almost there. Well, hopefully, anyways. We are on our way home from our Nan’s who lives in Brisbane. Mum decided to drive to and from. I don’t know why. I didn’t want to go, but I had to. I wanted to stay in Melbourne with my friends.

I told mum that I was old enough to stay home for the week or two, but she disagreed. So here I am, stuck in the middle of a hot, stinky, sweaty car with no air conditioning and two older sisters who won’t stop arguing. Their arguments are stupid and pointless. I think they just like getting on each other’s nerves, and they like to claim one is better than the other. I ask mum to tell them to stop, but she just ignores me. I ask them to stop, but they start yelling at me, so I find it better to stay out of it. When they get too loud and start screaming at each other, mum just turns the radio up louder to try and block them out, but I don’t think that works because then they try to yell over it.

I didn’t want to sit in the middle. I would’ve liked to sit next to the door with the window and just look at the view. But mum said that Sam and Taylah are older, so they get the window seats, which I think is unfair. Mum won’t even let me sit in the front passenger seat. She says that’s where our bags go, but they are all in the boot.

I have a headache, and I can see the sweat dripping off my nose. We just drove past my school, which means we are about two minutes away from home. I sit up straight, lean forward and block my ears. I recognise the street names – we are nearly there. I get excited as we pull into the driveway. Before Mum even turns off the car, I open the door and jump over my sister. I land softly on our front lawn. I run to Mum as she gets out of the car. I grab the keys and run and open the front door, forgetting about my bags. I run to the backyard. I climb the tree in the far corner near my bedroom window. I open the door to my treehouse and just lie there on the floor looking at the roof, listening to the birds and feeling the wind on my face.

This is my quiet place, what’s yours?

Claudia Hands, 13 Hoodie Mag 2011