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Title: Getting out

by Amy from West Yorkshire | in writing, fiction

"I was playing Ben Ten with Zack and he said he was Ben but that was sooooo mean cause I wanted to be Ben" my little brother rambled on and on and on. He's not the only one "Jaz Jaz your room is a complete pig sty, don't you have coursework to be doing?" mum won't shut up either at least I know where my little brother gets it from. The more my mum nags the more Welsh she sounds right now she was halfway there she could be back to fully blown Cardiff in seconds so I make straight for the front door.
I throw on my comfy trainers and trudged out to grab my bike. Soon I'm whizzed past the untamed wilds of our garden and the super tacky gnome sanctuary of next door. Just gliding through the dull little suburb each grey little semi flying of behind me it's the best feeling in the world. I could soar above there dull little worlds of SATs and GCSEs and VAT and MOT. Swooping down the steep hill on palmer drive. Is that a car? Why aren't the breaks working? Why aren't I stopping? Why aren't they stopping? ........................

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