The Big Move

• Claire Upjohn, Grade 3
• Short Story
• 2019

The rain was pouring down in torrents, and the ground was wet and muddy. Suddenly I slipped on a big rock. Carefully, I pulled myself up, as to not trip over again, since if I did, my friends Abby and Eve would laugh at me. They always did.

Abby and Eve were my only friends, apart from Alyssa, who moved to New York 3 years ago, leaving me alone. I had to be friends with Abby and Eve, because our mums were good friends and they were my only option.

I ran home, careful not to tread mud in the kitchen, mum would get angry at me if I did.
I carefully tiptoed across the living room, as not to disturb dad (he was on an important phone call) and quietly ran up to my bedroom.

Our house was an 8-bedroom mansion, some of the bigger rooms had kitchenettes, mine did. I plonked myself on my bed and reached out and grabbed the book I was currently reading. I read until dinner, which was lamb shanks, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, which was luckily one of my favourite dinners.

I went to bed quite early, and at 8:10, I was fast asleep. I woke up at 9:45, to hear mum and dad coming up the stairs with dad, talking quietly, so I couldn’t hear them.
Then I realised that they had gone back downstairs. Strangely, mum came back upstairs and came through the corridor. Shadows crept across the walls, and I was scared.
Mum sat down on my bed and told me that we were moving to London. She told me that dad had a new business and that we were going on a ferry the next day. I was confused. She got me out of bed and helped me to pack my clothes and essential belongings and to find other things that I wanted to take. I went back to bed and fell asleep instantly.

The next day, I woke up to the sound of bacon frying, and the smell wafted up to my room. I ran downstairs, but I wasn’t that hungry so I just had one small piece of bacon and a little bit of eggs on half a small piece of bread. I slowly walked to the secret room (which was just under the stairs) and cried and cried. I didn’t want to go to London, I wanted to stay here, in my home with my family in Norway. In my big house with my toys and all the rooms where I could play all day without anyone finding me. But I had to go.

I stepped into the taxi which would take us to the port. After a long drive, we finally arrived at the port. I slowly walked up the ramp and stepped on to the deck on the ferry and hoped that London would be a better life.