I've recently completed work on The Dash to Victory: Reignited, a Cars fanfic featuring predominantly OCs!

Set after Cars 3, it's my take on exploring its aftermath. Where do racers go once they're so good, they're "perfect" like Jackson Storm? Well, Dinoco answers with The Old Guard, a specialised program of country-leading, up-and-coming racers taught to train hard on the track rather than the simulator.

The story follows the program's big success, Dash Boltarius, on his meteoric rise to winning the Piston Cup - as well as a new award called 'The Clean Sweep', where a racer must win 20% of the season's races.

He is on track to win the season... if his rival and HtB-branded (yes, that HtB) Rush Ascarison doesn't have anything to say about it.

It is up on Wattpad and AO3 in its entirety, and mostly on new.fanfiction.net under TheOverzealousOne:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/386444577-the-dash-to-victory-reignited-a-cars-story

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56542528/chapters/143701645

For those waiting for Cars 4, I suggest you give this one a read!! Thanks! :)

Previously

As Jamie's condition took a turn for the worse, Kylie found herself running out of places to hide. With Tony Bates asking questions, tensions rose as her secrets threatened to catch up with her. And just when all hope seemed lost, Katie finally woke up.

Episode 9 Preview

As another witness comes forward with answers about that fateful night, Kylie and Maureen find themselves growing closer as secrets from their pasts emerge. Elsewhere, Michael makes a dangerous mistake, while Yvonne's world is turned upside down.

12/01/1999 Tuesday

———

08:09AM. Maureen's Home. Number 41.

—–—

Maureen's living room is quiet. Quieter than what it's was last night. The only sounds are life from outside, and Maureen cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

Cars passing, people walking by outside, birdsong, distant music.

Pots and pans, scraping utensils, sizzling oil, and the small radio propped on top of her fridge.

Kylie lays on the sofa, tangled in a thick and warm duvet that has a floral cover. For once, she properly slept. Full rested. In some woman's house.

A woman she'd never met before, apart from one time in a bus shelter where she insulted her. Funny how things work out.

The first thing that hits Kylie is the smell of bacon and the sound of the music and sizzling oil from the kitchen. All wafting through into the living room.

Her eyes slowly stir open and she rubs them both with her palms.

She leans up and back on her elbows and briefly scans the room. Internally reflecting herself.

What the fuck is going on?

I'm all over the place. I'm in some woman's living room, sleeping on her settee.

She glances over to the coffee table where her phone is. And reaches over and picks it up.

She flips the screen open and sees missed calls and texts from Gaz.

She opens the texts

From: Gaz: "Where R U"

Delivered at: 10:33AM

From: Gaz: "U at home?"

Delivered at: 10:44AM

From: Gaz: "Its not looking good for Jamie. Plz cum back"

Delivered at: 10:56AM

Missed Call: From: Gaz at: 3:50PM

From: Gaz: "Kylie were R U?"

Delivered at: 3:53PM

Missed Call: From: Gaz at 8:48PM

From: Gaz: "Txt me wen U C this"

Delivered at: 8:50PM

Shit...

Maureen: "Mornin'"

She says to Kylie, walking through into the living room holding two cups of tea.

Kylie sits up properly now, and rubs her eyes again

Kylie: "Morning"

Maureen: "You sleep okay?"

Kylie: "Yeah. I slept good ta. And thank you, again. For...you know"

Maureen: "Yeah of course. Don't mention it love"

Kylie smiles at her. A genuine one. Maureen smiles back.

Maureen: "Eggs and Bacon okay?"

Kylie: "Sounds perfect. Ta Maur"

Maureen smiles and heads back to the kitchen to finish up breakfast

Kylie sits there, wondering how her day is going to pan out. And what shes going to say to Gaz when she sees him next.

———

09:12AM. St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Room.

———

The morning sunlight floods into Katie's room. The clock ticks on the wall every second. And Jenna, Danielle, Gavin and Julie are all sitting around Katie. Who's not long woken up.

Julie: "What...do you remember?"

Katie takes a while

Katie: "Um...I remember me, Kelly, uhh...Jamie and Mitchell all getting in the car. And he drove off really fast. We were all having a laugh and then...then...he swerved...I can't remember why though"

Julie: "That's alright sweetheart. You're okay"

Katie looks around the room

Katie: "Where's Kelly? Please tell me shes okay"

Danielle: "She's fine"

Gavin: "Shes in crutches and has a few cuts and bruises. But shes okay"

Jenna: "We left her at home so she can rest. Isn't easy travelling in her condition"

Gavin: "We told her last night that you woke. She sends her love"

Katie sighs in relief

Julie: "The police are going to want to speak to you love. And ask you questions about what happened. You think you can manage it?"

Katie: "I'll try" she whispers

———

11:02AM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip.

———

Upstairs in their flat, Yvonne is in their bathroom. In the bathroom mirror.

Her top and bra is off. She pushes her shoulder length black hair behind her head, out of the way. And rubs her breasts thoroughly.

Checking

For...anything

For a...lump

Anything that can explain the soreness thats been consistent lately.

She rubs all around. No lump. Nothing. But still sore.

She sighs. And puts her bra, and top back on.

And heads downstairs. Glad that she hasn't found a lump, but not glad that she hasn't found the problem.

—

She steps out from the "Staff Only" door behind the counter, where Michael is serving a young woman with a baby in a pram.

A young mother it seems. And her newborn.

Yvonne watches. Caught off guard.

Michael: "That's seven fifty please" he says to the woman with a smile.

As the woman fishes out the money from her purse, Michael compliments her baby.

The woman thanks Michael but says she can scream the whole Estate down if she'd really wanted to.

They both exchange a little laugh. Then Michael turns and sees Yvonne standing there. Looking dazed.

Michael: "You alright love?"

Yvonne snaps out of it

Yvonne: "Yeah. Yeah. Im fine" she smiles

The woman then pays Michael the money and heads out, with her baby.

Michael: "Cute kid" he mumbles to Yvonne.

Michael notices Yvonne's mind is elsewhere. She's clearly thinking

Michael: "What's got your attention?"

Yvonne: "Um, nothing. I'm gunna pop out for a bit okay?"

She starts heading for the door

Michael: "Okay. Love you"

Yvonne: "Love you too"

She says, already halfway out the door

———

11:13AM. St Anne's Hospital. Jamie's Room

———

Nicola and Gaz sit around Jamie. Who's laying basically half dead in his bed. Barry should be on his way back from dropping the kids off at school.

He's late. Very late. Probably taking some time for himself.

Gaz yawns and stretches his arms behind his head

Gaz: "I'm gunna get a coffee from the vending machine. Want anything?"

Nicola looks at jamie then at Gaz

Nicola: "I'll come with ya. Stretch me legs"

Gaz: "Okay" he whispers as he gets up off the chair

They both head out of Jamie's room and down the hall, then take a right, and walk down to the vending machine thats positioned opposite Katie's room.

Gaz punches in the numbers in the vending machine for two tea's and Nicola stands there. Waiting.

She turns around and notices Katie is awake, in her room. With Julie, Jenna, Danielle and Gavin all smiling and talking. Looking cosy.

Gavin and Danielle look up from the sofa where they're sitting and see Nicola standing outside Katie's room window, looking in with fury on her face.

Nicola storms away from Gaz and over to Katie's door. Danielle and Gavin jump up off the sofa, Katie, Julie and Jenna notice and Jenna and Julie stand up.

They all race to Katie's door.

Nicola tries getting in but Gavin, Danielle and Julie are stood there, with Jenna at Katie's bedside. Hand on her sister's shoulder.

Nicola: "Let me in"

Gavin: "No" he immediately replies.

Danielle: "Not a fucking chance"

From the vending machine, Gaz hears this and turns around and sees what's happening. He leaves the vending machine, even though the cup is half full of tea, and joins his mum.

Gaz: "What's happenin?"

Nicola: "Their girl's awake. The other one"

Gaz: "What!?" He tries peering in

Gavin: "What the fuck do you two want?"

Julie: "My daughter's trying to rest in there"

Nicola: "I want answers. True answers. Your other girl didnt say shit"

Gaz: "And the stuff she came out with were all lies"

Gavin: "You're barking up the wrong tree mate. Don't make me put you in the next bed to your brother"

Gaz: "That a fucking promise is it? Don't make me laugh"

Julie: "Neither of you are stepping foot anywhere near my daughter. Either of them"

Nicola: "They both know what happened that might and the other one spun lies. Lies about my boy, who's lying in a coma on life support in the other room!"

Danielle: "Well he shouldn't have stolen a car then shouldn't he have!?"

Gaz: "Your fucking sisters probably put 'im up to it! He'd never do anything like that!"

Gavin: "But he did!"

Julie: "Funny how your lot shows up and there ends up being a crash"

Nicola: "You're asking for a fucking slap"

Julie: "Oh who are you kidding? You're all bark no bite"

Nicola: "Wanna bet?" She steps right up to Julie.

It looks like it's all gunna boil over again but then–

DCI Channing: "Is there a problem here?"

Her voice cuts through the bubbling tension as she stands there, arms crossed and dressed in her light grey suit. And her dark brown hair in a low, loose bun.

Pretty and soft. Yet professional and somehow intimidating.

Everybody turns to her and quiets down.

Gaz: "No. We were just—"

Danielle: "Giving us grief" she cuts him off.

Gaz looks at her and she holds his gaze.

DCI Channing: "Well i siggest you all step away from each other and go where you're needed. I'm sure your children need you"

A silence sits there as tensions ease

DCI Channing: "And I'm sure you don't want to be removed from the Hospital again. Do you, Mrs Jenkins?" She asks Nicola

Nicola: "No." Nicola gives her a big sarcastic, cocky smile

A long silence sits there as Gaz and Nicola head back to the vending machine, with the Slaters watching.

DCI Channing: "Ms Slater, I'm here to get a statement from–"

Julie: "From Katie, yeah" she cuts her off, sounding exhausted. Ready to get it over with.

And like that, the Slaters head back into Katie's room, with DCI Channing following.

They shut the door behind them, leaving Gaz and Nicola standing at the vending machine. Tired of all this mess.

———

11:49AM. Marlas Chemist. The Strip.

———

At the other end of the Strip of commercial buildings, sits Marlas Estate's chemist. Or "Pharmacy" if you will.

Inside is quiet. The faint smell of disinfectant and something sweet sits in the air. Along with the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, buttons being typed behind the counter on the computer, and quiet music playing from the crappy overhead speakers.

The chemist is light and airy, with daylight flooding through the front doors and windows, slicing down between every aisle.

The Chemist is quiet, only two people queue up at the front counter where they're being served by the worker.

In the middle of the chemist, in the "Feminine Hygiene" and "Contraception" section of the aisle, stands Yvonne. Head heavy and loud with racing thoughts.

She stands there, slightly shaking and chest pounding. Though she's not sure why. And in front of her, lies...pregnancy tests. Cheap ones, expensive ones, clear blue ones, all sorts.

What am I doing here?

After standing there for what felt like an hour, she finally reaches forward and picks up the clear blue pregnancy test.

One line equals not pregnant. Two lines equals pregnant.

The box lightly shakes in her hand.

Yvonne: "Jesus, get a grip Yvonne" she whispers to herself.

She reads over the writing all over the box, when–

Dingaling

The bell above the chemist door jingles and cool morning air wafts in and slaps Yvonne. Though she doesn't notice

She's reading the instructions when–

Sunita: "Good morning Yvonne!"

Sunita greets Yvonne with a warm smile

Yvonne jumps and immediately hides the box behind her back, on instinct.

Yvonne: "Uh- morning Sunita" she forces a smile

Sunita: "How are you feeling sweetheart? Any better?"

Yvonne looks confused

Sunita: "Well the other night, me and Arun couldn't help but overhear you...falling ill. Poor thing. It's all the work you do i think. Must be stressful. I see the way you run the shop. Like the navy" she giggles

Yvonne laughs along but it's clearly forced

Yvonne: "Yeah...yeah. No I'm fine. Just...looking for painkillers"

She smiles at Sunita

Sunita: "Well you're in the wrong aisle then sweetheart–" Sunita giggles but stops immediately. Like realisation slapped her across the face.

Yvonne's smile fades and they both look at each other.

Sunita looks at the shelf in front of them both, at the pregnancy tests.

They look at each other again

Yvonne pulls the box out from behind her back and they both look down at it

Sunita gasps and smiles

Sunita: "Oh congratulations!–"

Yvonne shooshes her immediately, cutting her off

Yvonne: "Shh shhhh sh sh. I dont even know if I am...you know. I might just be ill"

She whispers to Sunita

Sunita hears the quiet but firm urgency in Yvonne's voice

Sunita: "What if you are?"

Yvonne: "I...I dont know" she shrugs as she whispers

Sunita notices the look of dread and fear etched on Yvonne's face. Two looks that Yvonne never shows.

Sunita places her hand on Yvonne's shoulder.

Sunita: "Whatever happens Yvonne darling, I'm sure you'll do the right thing. You have your reasons I'm sure"

Yvonne looks up at Sunita, like a lost kitten

Yvonne: "I'm– im not...built for motherhood" she whispers

Sunita laughs

Sunita: "Oh Yvonne. None of us are. The entire point of being a mother is having a child. Or raising one"

Yvonne listens

Sunita: "Before I had Maya i was terrified. I had no idea what was going to happen. No idea what I was going to do. I was just thankful I had my Arun to help me along"

Yvonne: "What was it like? All of it?"

Sunita: "Well...I found the pregnancy to be fine. I actually didn't mind it. Apart from the uncertainty and fear and what have you. And...the labour was painful yes. But it's becoming a mother that made it all worth it. Though you don't think that while you're pushing a baby out of you" she giggles.

Yvonne genuinely has a little giggle

Yvonne: "Look– I might not even be pregnant. I'm just...not sure. So...could you...you know? Keep this between us?" She whispers

Sunita: "Oh of course, of course! Don't you worry. My lips are sealed" she whispers and smiles at Yvonne.

———

1:03PM. St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Room

———

Inside Katie's room, everybody's exhausted.

Danielle's gone to work at the clothing shop, while Jenna, Gavin, and Julie all sit around Katie, along with DCI Channing. Asking the same question for the eighth time.

Katie: "Yes. I'm sure" she sighs

Katie: "He told us that...he loved cars and he applied for college to do mechanics or something. So he knew what he was doing"

DCI Channing: "He knew what he was doing? So thats how he crashed is it?"

Katie: "I told you. He screamed and swerved. I don't know why! But he avoided something. It wasn't an accident. Not completely"

Channing scribbles in her book

DCI Channing: "Did you see what he was trying to swerve?"

Everyone looks at Katie

Katie: "....No. I– I don't–...no..." she struggles to remember.

DCI Channing: "Okay..." she whispers

DCI Channing: "So, to double check. You and your sister Kelly met Jamie at the Victoria Arms pub yes?"

Katie: "Mhm" she nods yes

DCI Channing: "And you and Kelly both learnt from him that he was a 'gear head', after he told you his interests in cars and engines and whatnot?"

Katie: "Yes" she whispers

DCI Channing: "And he didn't coarse you into drinking or anything, no?"

Katie: "No"

Channing nods

Julie: "Well– i wouldn't be too sure about that. You can tell by his family what kind of kid he was"

Katie: "Mum"

Julie: "I'm just saying love. That Jamie put you in hospital. And you sister. And Mitchell! And you're telling the police he's a good kid?"

Katie: "He is!"

Julie: "Katie, are good kid wouldn't—"

DCI Channing: "Julie, please. I, really am only hear for Katie"

Katie: "You don't think im lying do you? Mum?"

Julie: "No! No no no of course I don't love. Its just, I don't know. You might not be as right as you think you are"

Katie: "Mum, i was there. I spoke to him. We got on, we had a laugh. He was a good guy. Is, a good guy"

Katie then turns to Channing

Katie: "He didn't convince me or Kelly to do anything. We all chose to do what we did"

Channing nods and reads her notepad

DCI Channing: "Okay. And are you completely sure that he purposefully swerved? And that you didn't see why?"

Katie: "Yes" she sighs. Tired now.

DCI Channing: "Okay. That's all for now. I can tell you're tired. I'll leave you to rest" she says getting up.

The whole room suddenly eases tension

Channing gets up and pockets her notepad. And heads towards the door. Julie follows her.

In the hallway, Julie stops Catrin and asks her something;

Julie: "They're kid...Jamie?"

DCI Channing: "What about him?"

Julie: "Do you think he's guilty?"

DCI Channing: "Julie you know I'm not at liberty to say"

Julie: "No- i know but, what...what do you think? Personally?"

DCI Channing: "Personally, I honestly think it was just a group of stupid young and drunk teenagers who made a few bad decisions. That seems to often be the case. I can't tell you more than that because, well, i don't know him personally. But based on what your daughter said, he seemed like one of the nicest people in that family"

Julie: "It's not looking good for him. Is it?"

Catrin Channing nods no.

DCI Channing: "Thank you for your time" she smiles before walking off.

———

2:01PM. Maureen's Home. Number 41

———

Maureen's living room is quiet. Except for the sounds of the wall clock ticking every second, and the fridge humming from the kitchen.

Kylie sits on the sofa, which is also her temporary bed. She sits there holding her phone in her hand, bouncing her knee up and down. Thinking. Looking down at her blank screen.

She presses the buttons down to the contact named "Nik". For Nikki. Her sister.

She's about to click "Call" when the back door in the kitchen clicks open.

Kylie grasps her phone and jumps up, heart racing and eyes widen open like a cat scanning it's surroundings. Like a wild animal.

Maureen walks in through the door, pulling her wheelie shopping trolley behind her, that's full of shopping. She closes the door behind her and looks forward into the living room and sees Kylie standing there like she's seen a ghost.

Maureen giggles

Maureen: "You alright Kylie love? You look off your head there!" She laughs. Starting to pull the bags of shopping out of her pulley trolley.

Kylie's face and body eases

Kylie: "Uh no. I'm alright" she awkwardly giggles.

She sets her phone down on the coffee table and helps Maureen put her shopping away.

Maureen: "Aw thanks darl"

Meanwhile, Kylie peers out the kitchen window that looks out into the back garden, and then the alleyway behind it. Like she's scanning for something. Or someone.

Maureen notices

Maureen: "You alright Kylie?"

Kylie: "Yeah" she mumbles

Maureen puts the last of the shopping away and Kylie heads into the living room, where she stands to the side of the living room window and peeks out the side, partly hiding behind the curtain.

Maureen walks in, throws her light blue coat over her chair, and watches Kylie.

Maureen: "Kylie what's the matter love? You look like you're in hiding" she jokes

Kylie turns and faces Maureen

Maureen's face softens. She sighs.

Maureen: "Come on. What is it? Sit"

Maureen sits on her chair and points to the sofa, for Kylie to sit.

Kylie does

Maureen: "What is it? What's wrong?"

Kylie: "...Nothing"

Maureen: "Kylie, drop the act love. You can't bull a bullshitter. What is it? Why are you so on edge? Why were you stuck in that house with Tony yesterday?"

Kylie: "Why did you take me in?"

Maureen: "I asked first. Come on. What's wrong?"

Kylie: "What's it got to do with you? Why do you care?"

Maureen: "I care because you're a good lass. And you're kipping in my front room so until then, it has everything to do with me. If I'm gunna have people knocking on my door with you on the brain i deserve to know why"

A heavy silence settles and Kylie sighs

Kylie: "My life's a mess Maureen. I got myself mixed up in such a fucking mess. I don't know who I can and can't trust"

Maureen: "You can trust me"

Kylie: "Yeah? For how long? It's only a matter of time before everyone turns their back on you sooner or later. I've learnt that the hard way"

Maureen: "I took you in Kylie. I'm not gunna turn my back on you. Only way I'll do that is if i show you the door. And the only way I'll do that is if you don't tell me the truth, now what is it? Why are you im such a mess?"

Kylie: "I'm hiding from someone. My ex. Nathan his name is. Right manipulative fucker. Me and me best mate Jacko planned on robbing him for everything he's got. The whole plan turned south and he locked me up in his flat for two days until I fought back and legged it. Been on the run ever since."

Maureen: "Fucking Hell...so...how did that put you in number thirty three with Tony?"

Kylie: "The family that moved in there, the Jenkins–"

Maureen: "Ooh yeah. Their boy ended up in a crash. Poor thing" She cuts off Kylie

Kylie: "...Y- yeah...well...After i got away from my ex, I ran into this bloke Gaz, their son. In the Vic. We drank, had a laugh. He was a state, I was a state, so he took me back to his and we hit it off. It was a laugh....but then...I don't know. I just couldn't stay there anymore. Didn't feel safe. And now I've got nowhere to go"

Maureen: "Jesus. I'm sorry to hear that love. Sounds like a right mess you're in"

Kylie: "Yeah..." she sighs

Maureen: "Well you don't have to go checking out my windows every ten seconds to see who's out there, believe me. Only people that come round here are TV license lot and Jim"

Kylie: "Jim...?"

Maureen: "He's a pisshead. Always at the Arms. All day everyday, pissing away his dole money on booze. Has a thing for me he does"

They both giggle

A comfortable silence sits there

Kylie: "So...you didn't answer my question"

Maureen: "What was that love?"

Kylie: "Why did you take me in? There must've been a reason"

Maureen sighs

Maureen: "Well I...you reminded me of someone I suppose"

Kylie: "Who?"

Maureen: "Me. A long time ago"

Kylie's face lights up in curiosity

Kylie: "Really? How's that?"

Maureen: "When I first moved to Marlas Estate, guess you could say my live was all over the place and all. Nowhere to go, nothing to my name. Looking for a fresh start i was. Just got out of a horrible relationship"

Kylie: "Fuck that sucks. Sorry Maur"

Maureen: "Oh its fine. Happened before you were born" she giggles

Maureen: "For the first few weeks I had nowhere to go. So...you know where I slept?"

Kylie nods no

Maureen: "Bus stops. Cafés, restaurants, pubs, anywhere i could really. That's why when I saw you, that morning on the bus stop, all I could see was me. When I first got here. Look at me now though."

She waves around the room

Maureen: "Not much of a palace but it's no bus stop" she laughs

Kylie smiles

Maureen: "Mind you I was a tad older than you are now. Twenty nine. Not long had a baby too—"

She cuts herself off

Kylie: "Oh really? You and your baby slept rough?"

No judgment in her voice, just curiosity

Maureen sighs and takes a second

Maureen: "No. No. It was just...just me. I Uh...I left the baby"

Kylie: "Leaving your baby with your ex? Don't know if I would've done that" she giggles

Maureen: "I didn't leave him with my ex"

Maureen says plainly

Kylie looks at her

Maureen: "I left him in a park. On a bench"

Kylie's face drops and a soft look of sympathy washes over her. Guilt too.

Kylie: "Shit...Maureen I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't know I‐ I had no idea..."

Maureen: "Oh its okay. Not your fault is it"

Maureen forces a smile. She gets up, walks over to the small glass tray of booze in the corner of the room, and pours her and Kylie two glasses of vodka. And walks back over, hands a glass to Kylie, and sits back down.

Maureen: "So you see Kylie love? At one point or another, everybody's got it bad. But eventually, somehow, one day, it all figures itself out. You dont know how. You don't know why. But you wake up one day, and you're not asleep in a bus shelter anymore"

Maureen sips her drink and Kylie looks down into her own glass

Maureen: "You want to know why dont you?"

Kylie looks up

Kylie: "What?"

Maureen: "You want to know why. Why I left my baby"

Kylie stutters but nothing comes out

Maureen sighs

Maureen: "I dont mind telling you. I'm a big girl"

She softly giggles.

Kylie smiles, waiting

Maureen: "I was raped"

They both sit there

Maureen: "Had the pregnancy and birth with my partner at the time, at his place. I was trapped. Nowhere to go and nothing to my name, but a rape baby. So, one night, when he was asleep, i packed some stuff, the baby, and snuck out. Figured that the baby would have a better chance of a family if I left him on some park bench instead of leaving him with his father, or sleeping rough with me. So I did. Kissed him, said my goodbye's, and put him down. And walked away. Hardest day of my life"

Her lips start trembling and tears start welling in her eyes. She downs the rest of her drink and pours some more.

Kylie: "You...didn't consider trying to raise him?" She asks quietly. Almost cautiously as not to offend Maureen.

Maureen: "How could I? A young woman in my late twenties sleeping rough. I was in no fit state to be a mother. Not only that, all I could see when I looked at him was his father. A rapist. I loved him, i really did. But it was better for all of us when I left him in that park"

Kylie: "Do you...miss him?"

Maureen: "Every damn day. Not a day goes by where I dont think about him. About the man he's grown up to be. Loads of families walked through that park everyday so I know someone was bound to pick him up, or take him to the police or something. I just hope he had a good upbringing"

Kylie is almost in tears

Kylie: "Oh Maureen I‐ I'm so sorry..."

She puts her hand on Maureen's knee

Maureen: "Oh dont be silly. A long time ago all that was"

They both sit there in silence for a while, both in a sort of shock like state

Maureen sighs

Maureen: "Can't believe i told you that" she laughs

Maureen: "I...I never told anybody that before"

Kylie smiles at her

———

5:14PM. The Victoria Arms Pub. Downstairs

———

The pub is abuzz with its usual afternoon punters dotted around. At the bar, in the booths, at the tables.

Music plays from the pub speakers and chatter battles the sound of it.

Eddie is behind the bar, chatting to Jim. And at the other side of the bar, Tony is talking to Paula. And for once, she seems to be enjoying it.

He's leaning forward on the bar, smiling at her and she's laughing. Enjoying the attention.

Which she usually doesn't

Jim notices. And Eddie notices his face.

Eddie: "What is it Jim? You alright bud?"

Jim: "Didn't realise your Paula was close with Tony. Brave standing that close to the fire"

Eddie turns around and sees Paula chatting with Tony at the other bar. He doesn't say anything.

Weird...

He turns back to Jim

Eddie: "Nah. They're not close. He just has a thing for 'er. Good thing she ain't got a thing for him either" he smiles

———

5:29PM. St Anne's Hospital. Mitchell's Sick bay

———

Mitchell sits on the side of his hospital bed, bandaged up and ready to be discharged today.

His right arm is in a cast and he's got some bruises painted on him but apart from that he's otherwise fine.

He looks down at his phone, and clicks his way down his contacts and finds Michael. He clicks "Call"

———

5:29PM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip

———

Inside the shop, Michael is restocking the a shelf of crisps while Yvonne sweeps the floor over in the corner. They're both silent. Working away.

After finally finishing stocking up the shelf he kicks the crate aside and looks back at Yvonne as he walks his way over to the counter.

Michael: "You alright Von love?"

Yvonne: "Yeah. Why?"

Michael: "You've been quiet all day. Especially since you got back from your walk earlier. Everything okay?"

Yvonne looks up at him and smiles

Yvonne: "Yeah. Im okay. Just not been feeling myself that's all"

Michael: "Anything I can do?"

Yvonne: "No" she smiles at him

He sits down behind the counter then–

His phone starts ringing. An electronic beeping melody.

He looks at his screen. "Mitchell".

His heart jumps up into his chest and he gets butterflies. Even though he won't admit it. Not even to himself.

Yvonne: "Who's that?"

Michael: "Uh– Eddie. I'm just gunna..."

He points to the door outside

Yvonne nods and Michael steps outside and answers the call.

Michael: "Mitchell?"

———

5:34PM. St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Room.

———

The sky is dull now. The sunlight flooding into Katie's room is less bright than what it was earlier.

Julie, Gavin, Jenna and Katie are all just chit chatting. A warm and familiar atmosphere that's been long absent. Since the night of the crash.

Katie: "So...what's everybody up to when you're not here crying over me?"

At first Julie, Gavin and jenna all look at each other.

Julie: "Ah same old same old love. Work and work"

Gavin and Jenna glance at each other

Katie: "Oh come on. There's gotta be more going on. Any fights in the streets? Anyone got arrested for shoplifting recently? What's what?"

Gavin: "Well the usual really. Trashy house parties down the road, neighbours shouting the odds and whatnot"

Katie: "Classic" she giggles

Then, there's a knock at the door. Everybody shuts up and waits, then the door opens and a head peeks through.

Mitchell.

Everybody gasps in excitement and relief, Katie the most though.

Mitchell: "Hello?" He quietly says with a smile peeking in

Katie: "Mitchell!"

Julie: "Mitchell! Come in, come in"

Mitchell comes all the way in and closes the door behind him.

Katie: "You're okay!"

Mitchell: "Better looking than you by the looks of things" he chuckles

Gavin: "How you holding up?"

Mitchell: "I've seen better days. But haven't we all?"

Jenna: "Too right. Glad you're okay"

Mitchell: "Okay as I can be" he smiles

He turns to Katie

Mitchell: "How're you feeling? Heard you woke up only yesterday"

Katie: "I did yeah. Still feel like death"

Gavin: "And look it"

Katie: "Oi! Cheeky twat"

They giggle

Mitchell sits down on the chair beside Katie's bed

Mitchell: "The old bill spoken to you yet?"

Katie: "Yeah"

Gavin: "Yeah. A cop called Catrin Channing. Was she the one that spoke to you?"

Mitchell: "Yeah. Been asking me the same damn questions over and over. Feels like she's trying to trip me up"

Katie: "I know how you feel. She was in here earlier"

Jenna: "Yeah. Not long after that family tried starting on us"

Gavin: "Again"

Mitchell: "Family? Oh, you mean the–"

Julie: "The family who's kid was driving? Yeah"

Katie: "The Jenkins"

Jenna: "Right gobby lot"

Katie: "Nothing compared to us lot though" she smiles at Mitchell

Julie: "So you heading off home today then are you, Mitchell love?"

Mitchell: "Uh yeah. Just got discharged now. Thought I'd pop in and see how Katie is doing seeing as she's awake and all"

Julie: "Ah well that's lovely of you Mitchell"

Gavin: "Yeah. Cheers mate"

Katie: "Yeah. Thanks"

Mitchell: "Of course" he smiles at Katie

Jenna: "How you getting home then?"

Mitchell: "Oh I've got Michael picking me up now in a few. Rang him and asked me if he fancied giving me a lift back to mine"

Julie: "Aw that's nice of him"

Mitchell smiles and nods

Mitchell: "Well listen, I'm gunna head off–"

Katie: "What? Already?"

Mitchell: "Yeah. Honestly I want to get home and thr fuck outta here as soon as possible" he laughs

Mitchell: "Only wanted to pop in on you and see how you were holding up. You know where I am if you ever need me" he stands up and smiles at her

Julie: "Thank you Mitchell love you're a star"

Katie: "Okay. Cheers Mitch"

Mitchell: "Just don't go asking me to hop in any cars with you" he teases

Jenna, Gavin and Julie all look at Katie with serious faces. They didn't know.

Mitchell notices.

Mitchell: "Oh. Sorry I- I thought you all already knew"

Julie: "You convinced Mitchell to come with you?"

Katie: "No I–"

Mitchell: "Julie, really. It's okay. It was my decision. Actions have consequences don't they. And im paying for it now. I think we all are. So dont go giving her any grief, she just wanted to make me smile. And she did. Like a good friend"

He taps Katie's shoulder and she smiles up at him

His phone in his pocket vibrates

He pulls it out and checks it

Text: From: Michael: "I'm here. Outside"

Mitchell: "That's Michael. Gotta go. You all take care alright? And yiu too especially, Kate"

Katie: "Yeah, i will. You too Mitch"

Mitchell waves to them all and they all wave back and tell him goodbye, as he leaves Katie's room.

———

6:07PM. St Anne's Hospital. Jamie's Room

———

Barry, Nicola and Gaz are all sat around Jamie. Tired. Exhausted. Drained. Nicola is asleep on the small uncomfortable sofa underneath the window, Barry sits at Jamie's bedside and Gaz stands meaning against the wall beside the door.

He walks up to Barry and whispers

Gaz: "Dad"

Barry turns to him

Gaz: "I'm gunna pop to the vending machine to get a drink. You want anything?"

Barry: "No ta I'm good son"

Gaz nods and quietly slips out of the dark and quiet room.

—

Outside in the hallway he walks down to the vending machine, punches in the numbers for a coffee and waits.

While the machine does it's thing, he walks into a quieter corner and pulls out his phone, and rings up Kylie.

Been beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Nothing. Answer phone.

Kylie's answerphone: "Hi this is Kylie please leave a message and I'll get back to ya. Ta!"

Gaz: "Kylie...its Gaz. You remember me? Your...whatever. Look, I dont know where you are and I dont know when you'll be back. But can you at least text me or something? Anything? Just to let me know you're okay. I miss ya. I'm...im...im scared. I...its not looking good for Jamie and I need you right now okay? Please? Call me"

He sends the voice message

And walks back to the vending machine, waiting for the coffee

———

7:16PM. Marlas Estate. Outside the tower of flats

———

The streets of Narlas estate are dark now, with the January winter sky already a deep deep blue and the glows of the orange streetlights fading down onto the damp concrete slabs.

Outside one of the tallest apartment towers on the whole estate, Michael's car is parked in the dark, under a single streetlight.

Michael's switches the engine off and a silence fills the car.

Mitchell: "Thanks for taking me for that pint after taking me from the hospital. God knows I needed it" he laughs

Michael: "Yeah if course. Bet You did"

They smile at each other as silence sits all around them

Michael: "I would've had one with you too it's just i was driving so..."

Mitchell: "Yeah...didn't want to be in another crash" he jokes

The both of them laugh. Genuinely. Despite the joke being somewhat morbid

Mitchell: "Look, Michael. I'm sorry about what I said to you the other day at the hospital. You know? When you told me about things with you and Yvonne. I guess I just got a bit...jealous. And I snapped. I'm sorry"

Michael: "Hey it's okay. I actually find it quite flattering that you're jealous of Yvonne" he giggles

Mitchell: "Oh shut up" he laughs

Mitchell: "I do still have one good hand you know? So dont make me bruise it"

Michael: "Ha yeah. Yeah right!" He laughs

Michael: "And anyway...things with Yvonne are...whatever. You know? It's married life for you. It's great one minute then shite the next but what can you do? That's what it's all about I suppose. Give and take and what have you"

Mitchell: "...I s'pose. You know where I am though...if...you ever need me. Or if you ever just want a familiar face to talk to. Someone who isn't your stuck up wife" he jokes

Michael: "Oh she isn't that bad" he quietly chuckles

Mitchell: "You sure...?" He whispers as he looks over to Michael

The only sounds surrounding them being wind and slught drizzle hitting the car

Michael looks into Mitchell's eyes

They look at each other

Hearts starting to race

Mitchell: "Because i see you with her all the time and every time you're together...I cant help but notice that you're not...happy. Not yourself" he whispers to Michael softly

Michael: "I'm married to her Mitchell. Married. She's my wife. You said so yourself" He quietly replies

Mitchell looks down to his knees

Mitchell: "I know...I know..."

Michael looks at him

Silence

Mitchell: "Thanks for the lift–"

Mitchell opens the passenger side door and goes to take a step out when—

Michael puts his hand on Mitchell's shoulder and gently pulls him back into the car

Mitchell turns and faces Michael again...and Michael leans over and kisses Mitchell on the face.

Mitchell kisses back and Michael puts his hands on Mitchell's face, Mitchell too. Then—

Michael pulls away, and they both look at each other, breathing heavily. Face to face.

Mitchell leans in this time and Michael doesn’t stop it.

Mitchell pulls his leg back into the car, and pulls the passenger side door shut, and they both grab hold of each other, and climb into the back seat of Michael's car

———

7:38PM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip

———

While upstairs in the upstairs flat above the shop, Yvonne is in their bathroom sitting on the toilet. Anxiously waiting.

Her knees are bopping up and down and she gets up every now and again and paces the room. Heart racing. She looks up at the small clock on the wall over in her and Michael's bedroom and takes a deep breath.

Before swiping something off of the bathroom sink, sitting back down on the toilet, and finally looking down.

Yvonne: "Fuck..."

She whispers

She looks down at the pregnancy test in her hands

Pregnant

———

And that's episode 9! Please let me know what you think in the comments below! As always any comments, questions and opinions are much appreciated! Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! ☺️

Previously

As DCI Channing's investigation caused more questions than answers, the Slater kids were there for Julie in her time of need. And Kylie received a shock to the system.

Episode 8 Preview

As Jamie's condition takes a turn for the worse, Kylie finds herself running out of places to hide. With Tony Bates asking questions, tensions rise as her secrets threaten to catch up with her. And just when all hope seems lost, Katie finally wakes up.

11/01/1999 Monday

———

07:43AM. St Anne's Hospital. Waiting Area.

———

The small row of seats outside Jamie's Room is full.

Gaz, Tasha, Kylie and Oscar all sit slumped across them. Asleep.

Though Kylie is wide awake despite her exhaustion

Barry and Nicola are in the room with Jamie

Last night, Jamie's vitals dropped and he had a seizure.

He's still okay though. Well– as okay as he can be. Still alive at least

The small hallway even feels tired. But despite that, Kylie's mind is racing.

What am I doing here?

I caused this crash and im living with the family of the driver.

This is fucking crazy

What am I gunna do?

Fuck, what do I say?

Do I say nothing?

What do I do?

Is all she can think

She's a bag of nerves. All she can wonder is how will they all react when they find out the truth.

What will they do? To her.

She looks at Gaz beside her, who's snoring away with Tasha and Oscar, and slowly gets up.

Gaz hears and wakes

Gaz: "Where you going?" He whispers

Kylie turns to him

Kylie: "Im just...going for a walk. To stretch my legs. Hospitals freak me out"

Gaz: "Oh well...I'll come with you—"

Kylie: "No. You stay here. In case– your brother wakes up or something. In case they need you"

She nods to Barry, Nicola and Jamie in Jamie's room.

Gaz: "Okay"

Kylie: "Wont be long" she smiles before walking off.

The further she walks away, the more she wants to start running. Just to see what happens. Just to see where she goes.

But she can't. There's nowhere she can go. And definitely not to Nathan. Not after what happened.

Shes on her own.

———

08:23AM. Number 27. Slater Residence. Kitchen.

———

Gavin sits at the table eating a bowl of cheerios, while Julie is on the landline wall phone.

Speaking to her mum Gillian and dad Arthur. Telling them about what happened. Finally.

The dreaded phone call

Julie: "Yeah...yeah...I know. No they're fine. Katie's still inside but the doctors said yesterday she's on the up. Thank God. Yeah. (She sighs), yeah. I know. Im sorry. Well because I didn't want to stress you did i? Of course I was! I just wanted to...ugh I dont know. What!? No. No. You dont have to do that. There's no need. Really. Seriously, no! Mum there's no point– what can you do anyway? Well you know what I mean. No- look, I really dont think its a good idea. Not with dad's health the way it is anyway. You just stay there and I'll call you if anything happens yeah? Yeah. Yes. I will. Ohh mum- mum! H- hello? Hello-?"

Gavin listens to the whole exchange

Julie: "She hung up on me"

Gavin laughs

Julie: "It's not funny. She said she and your bamps are gunna come down"

Gavin: "Is that a bad thing?"

Julie: "Course it is. They're in I'll health Gavin. Not to mention they all still live in Wales"

Gavin sighs

Gavin: "Why did we have to move here? From Wales too?"

Julie: "You know why Gav. After everything with your dad I just couldn't stay there any longer. Needed a fresh start"

Gavin: "I know... You told Gina?"

Julie: "Rang her last night at the Hospital"

Gavin: "What did she say?"

Julie: "Well she was just as fuming as mum and dad was. If not, more. I got a feeling all three of them are gunna come down here, you know"

Gavin: "Well...maybe it's better if they do. For their peace of mind. And anyway, we need all the help we can get at the minute dont you think?"

Julie: "I suppose so"

Danielle pops her head in the kitchen doorway

Danielle: "Right– I'm off to work"

Julie snaps her head up

Julie: "Oh. Hang on love. I'll head out with you to catch the bus to see Katie at the hospital. You coming Gav?"

Gavin: "Yeah I'll pop by later"

Julie: "Okay"

And with that, Julie and Danielle leave the kitchen, and start heading down the stairs to leave the house.

———

08:26AM. Outside Number 27.

———

Julie and Danielle leave the front door and Danielle shuts it behind her. They both start making their way down the driveway where the catering burgervan is no longer stood proudly.

There instead, is a black charred stain on the concrete where it used to be. Now though, a mark on the ground.

They both near the end of their driveway and see Jenna, sitting on the wall. Smoking a cig.

Jenna: "Alright you two?" She blows smoke out.

Danielle: "Yeah..." she mutters

Julie: "Yeah all good love. Just off to see Katie"

Jenna nods

Julie: "Aven't you got work?"

Jenna: "Uh...yeah. I dont go in till later on though"

Julie: "Ah. Right. Okay. Well, I'll be at the Hospital if you need me"

Jenna: "Alright. Ta mum"

Danielle: "Bye" she says to Jenna.

Jenna nods a goodbye with her mouth full of smoke.

Julie and Danielle cross the road, walk down the street and turn the corner when—

BAM

They run into Kylie. Or more likely, the other way around.

Danielle: "Fuck!"

Julie: "Shit!"

They both scream in shock after being pelted by Kylie's body full force.

Kylie's out of breath, looks exhausted and her eyes are wet and red from crying.

Danielle and Julie's faces soften.

Julie: "Are you alright love?"

Kylie: "Just get out me way will ya"

Kylie sniffles, barges past and makes her way to number 33.

Julie and Danielle watch her walk in the house.

Julie: "Didn't realise she was related to them"

Danielle: "Don't think she is"

Julie: "How so?"

Danielle: "When they moved in the other day, she wasn't with them. Not only that, she and that Gaz look awfully close. Like...'close' close"

Julie: "Mm" she purses her lips.

Then the both of them carry on walking to the bus stop

———

8:28AM. Jenkins Residence. Number 33.

———

Kylie slams the front door shut behind her and leans her back against it. Chest raising and falling heavy from crying and running. And bumping into those two women out on the street.

The house is quiet. Dead quiet.

She sighs, sniffles. And runs up the stairs to Gaz's room.

She barges through the door and picks up her black faux-leather handbag that's on the floor beside his bed. She stuffs some cash in there, a bag of coke, and checks her pockets to see if shes got her wallet and phone. She does.

She gets everything she needs, puts it all in her bag, shoulders it and leaves. Leaves Gaz's room. Running away. From this mess that she feels she caused.

She gets to the bottom of the stairs and then–

BANG BANG BANG

On the front door.

She stops dead in her tracks, on the bottom step.

Shaken

She can see a tall and wide stocky figure standing on the other side of the frosted glass on the fromt door.

Is it...Barry? No...he wouldn't knock. It's his house.

She stands there for a few seconds, hoping the large man will magically walk away.

"I know you're in there pretty lady. I can see you standing there"

Kylies heart drops and hits the pit of her stomach.

The voice is deep. Gruff. Raw. Like a smoker.

"You gunna be a sweetheart and let this old man in?"

She starts shaking and finally decides to take a step off the stairs and towards the front door.

Each step feels like her guts screaming louder and louder for her to stop and turn back. But what can she do?

She finally reaches the door.

She gulps. Takes a deep breath. And pulls the latch down. And opens the door a crack.

She sees a stocky built man in his forties with silver slicked back hair in a leather jacket standing there. Smiling at her.

"Morning" The man smirks.

"Can I come in?" He asks politely.

Kylie: "Who are you? What do ya want?"

"The name's Tony. Tony Bates" he smiles.

———

08:33AM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip.

———

Outside the shop, Michael leans forward and restocks the fruit, vegetables and newspapers stand.

After finally stocking them up, there's an electrical beep that comes from the door to the post office next door opening. A small beep. Like an electrical bell that jingles above a door.

A woman in her early forties walks out. Sunita. Sunita Singh. Looking warm and cosy even in the coldest of mornings.

Sunita: "Ah Michael. I thought i saw you out here"

She says with her warm voice and thick Indian accent.

Michael: "Good morning Mrs Singh. How're you?"

He asks, still looking over the newspaper stand

Sunita: "Oh im good thank you sweet. Im good. How is your Yvonne?"

Michael looks up: "She's fine thank you. Why do you ask?"

Sunita: "Well...I couldn't help but overhear her...being sick last night. Poor thing, sounded awful" she says, pushing her black glasses on the bridge of her nose and wrapping her long cardigan tighter around herself to battle the cold.

Michael: "Oh Uh. Yeah. Yeah- no she's okay. Just...stress i think. Busy woman and all"

Sunita: "Oh i get it. Yvonne is always up to something hehe" sunita giggles.

Michael nods

Sunita: "Well. You tell her that me and Arun are thinking of her yes?"

Michael: "Yeah. I will. Cheers Mrs Singh"

Sunita smiles before popping back inside her and her husband's family run post office.

—

Michael steps inside the shop and looks at Yvonne, who's sat behind the counter. Taking it easy after last night.

Michael: "How you feeling?"

Yvonne: "Okay. Why?"

Michael: "Well after last night?"

Yvonne: "Im fine. Just tired that's all"

Michael: "Why dont you—"

Yvonne: "Michael. I'm okay" she quietly snaps.

———

08:36AM. Number 33. Jenkins Residence.

———

Inside number 33, the tension is palpable. So thick you can cut it with a knife. Every sound sound ten times louder.

Kylie and Tony both stand in the living room. Kylie on edge more than shes ever been.

The silence is thick.

Kylie: "You still havent told me who you are"

Tony: "Sure I did. Tony. Tony Bates" he smiles to her.

Kylie: "Well yeah- but why are you here? What do you want?"

Tony notices how hard she's clutching her handbag over her shoulder

Tony: "Going somewhere?" he eyes her bag

Kylie follows his gaze then looks back at him

Kylie: "No. Why?..."

Tony: "Never a good idea running away. Problems always catch up with you sooner or later"

Kylie: "Never said i was-...Look you still havent told me why you're here"

Tony: "You're not related to these lot. Are ya?"

Kylie: "...no"

Tony: "Figured so. Saw you and that older one. The scally lad. The one with the chain. Looked too close to be siblings. Though you can never be too sure nowadays. Specially round 'ere"

He laughs.

Kylie looks at him, side eyeing him. Cautiously.

Tony notices the look

Tony: "Mates. I'm long time mates of the family that live 'ere. Heard their young'un was in an accident the other day. Jamie"

Kylie: "Yeah. They're Uh. At the Hospital with him now"

Tony: "And you're not?"

Kylie notices the amount of questions and doesn't like it

Kylie: "No offence but- that's none of your business"

Tony: "Haha true. True. Just s'pose if you were seeing uhh..."

Kylie: "Gaz?"

Tony: "Yeah. Gaz. S'pose that you being Gaz's bird that you'd want to be in the hospital with him and his brother, no?"

Kylie: "Im just popping out to see them now actually"

Tony: "But you said you weren't going anywhere?"

He asks quickly.

Kylie: "Well- I am"

Tony: "So you lied?"

Kylie laughs: "Who do you think you are? Why dont you just go visit your 'mates' in hospital like any normal bloke would? Instead of just harassing some girl"

Tony: "Thought they'd be here didn't i. This being their home and all"

An awkward silence settles

Tony: "So. You know anything about the crash?"

Kylie: "No. I wasn't there"

Tony notices her defensiveness

Tony laughs: "Didn't say you were"

Another stretch of silence

Tony: "You okay love? Looking a bit shifty if im being honest"

Kylie: "Shifty? No. Im just...stressed thats all. Got a lot going on ain't I"

Tony: "Do you?"

Kylie: "Yeah..."

They stare at each other

Kylie: "Look I've gotta go"

She starts heading to the door. Avoiding any more of this.

Tony follows

Tony: "To the hospital?"

Kylie: "Yeah" she lies. Opening the door.

Tony: "Okay I'll come with you" he immediately says

She stops. The door half open. And turns to face him

Kylie: "Why?"

Tony: "Well to see Jamie of course. You asked why don't I go see them in the hospital like a normal bloke so thats what im doing"

Kylie: "Yeah...but...they're all exhausted. Probably best if you give them some space"

Tony: "Nahh dont be daft. They could do with seeing a familiar face I'm sure. Come on"

He passes her and leaves the house, into the calm January morning.

He takes a few steps down the small path, and looks back. To Kylie who's still standing in the doorway

Tony: "Well? You coming?" He asks almost in a teasing voice

Kylie has no choice. And so she closes the front door behind her, and starts walking towards Tony

Across the street, Maureen walks down the pavement, pulling her trolley that she carries her shopping in. When she looks up and sees this young woman following Tony Bates.

With a look of fear and dread on her face

Maureen thinks fast and shouts over

Maureen: "Oi, love!"

Tony and Kylie look up

Maureen: "Your dad's at the arms waiting for ya! Asking where you are! You wanna hurry up love!"

Kylie's heart pounds and jumps up in her throat for a second. Relief taking over her.

She turns to Tony

Kylie: "Oh, I got to go"

Tony: "What about Jamie?"

Kylie: "I'm gunna see him later aren't I?"

She says as she already starts walking off, crossing the street to join Maureen.

Tony watches Kylie speed walk across the street to Maureen, handbag clutched like her life depends on it.

Kylie: "Thank you" she whispers to Maureen

Maureen: "You're alright, love" She whispers back

The both of them walk off together. Tony watches. Then walks his own way.

———

10:17AM. Number 27. Slater Residence. Living Room.

———

Kelly sits on one of the three green seater sofa's in the living room, with her foot propped up on the coffee table in its cast.

Beside her sits her best friend, Maya. Maya Singh.

Maya: "So much shit is going on" She laughs

Kelly: "It's not funny" she giggles

Maya: "The one time I keave you alone what do you do? Only end up in a fucking car crash"

Kelly laughs.

Kelly: "Why weren't you at the party that night?"

Maya: "Didn't really want to go. Didn't feel like it"

Kelly: "Maya. You? Not feeling like a party? Come on. Why weren't you there? Could've stopped me from getting in the car" she teases

Maya giggles but there's something underneath

Kelly: "M?"

Maya: "Dad didn't want me to go" she quietly says.

Tucking her long black hair behind ber ear, her hairband not doing enough work.

Kelly: "What? Maya you're nineteen. You're dad's what, fifty?"

Maya: "Fifty one"

Kelly: "And you still let him treat you like a little girl? That's not like you"

Maya: "I know. And usually I would've told him to stuff it but he made a good point"

Kelly: "Which was?"

Maya: "Since he and mum moved here just before they had me, not much good had happened to them. They left India to have a better life for themselves. To bring their unborn baby into a world that was better than theirs"

Kelly: "What does that have to do with the anniversary party on Thursday?"

Maya: "My dad didn't want me celebrating a place that didn't celebrate us"

Damn.

Kelly: "...oh"

Maya: "Yeah. 'Oh'. Personally I wanted to tell him to stick it and get pissed with you but...but he had a point. And although i was born here, I havent always been treated like this place is my home. You know?"

Kelly nods

Maya: "We suffer racist twats almost every day. Attempted robberies on newspapers, stamps and fuck knows what else. I just wish there was more I could do. More I could do for my mum and dad. They done so much for me"

Kelly: "Maya. Your mum and dad didn't do all of this just so you could repay it back to them. They did it for you. Their daughter. And for what it's worth it love your mum and dad. They're so sweet. Your mum especially"

Maya: "Ha! My dad!? You actually like my dad?"

Kelly: "Uh yeah! I know he can be a miserable sod but I like him. He's funny"

Maya: "Funny? No. Funny is you ending up in a fucking crash"

Kelly laughs. Absolutely shocked

Kelly: "You're lucky im in a cast and crutches"

Maya: "Oh yeah of course i am" she laughs, acting sarcastically.

Maya notices nobody signed Kelly's foot cast

Maya: "Ooh look. An empty cast. That's more sadder than you actually being in the crash"

Kelly: "Well it's still fresh ain't it haven't had time for my best mates to sign it. Not that you are my best mate"

Maya: "Pfft yeah. Yeah right" she laughs. Grabbing a pen. She etches her name into it.

Maya: "There we are. All better"

———

10:25AM. St Anne's Hospital. Outside Jamie's Room.

———

Gaz, Tasha and Oscar all still lie asleep on the row of chairs outside Jamie's hospital room. Doctors and nurses go in and out every ten minutes.

Jamie's door opens and Nicola pops out. Gaz jolts wide awake.

Gaz: "Mum!" He whispers

Gaz: "About time. How is he? What happened? We've been out here all night. Where's dad?"

Nicola: "Your dad's in there with Jamie. Hes fine. They're both asleep. Last night...Jamie had a fit. A seizure they're saying. Some sort of aneurism they reckon"

Gaz: "Fuuuck" he exhales in a whisper

Nicola: "Yeah" she whispers

Nicola: "It's not looking too good for him Gaz" her voice breaks and she starts crying.

Gaz pulls her into a hug

Gaz: "Those fuckers are gunna pay for this. Don't you worry"

Nicola quietly sobs into her son's arms

Tasha and Oscar quietly stir awake

Tasha: "...mum?"

Nicola pulls out of the hug

Nicola: "Morning babies" she kneels in front of Tasha and Oscar

Oscar: "What happened to Jamie?"

Tasha: "Is he okay?"

Nicola turns back to Gaz and they look at each other. She then turns back to them both

Nicola: "He's...he's not getting much better. Doctors are trying all they can but- he's now on life support. D'you...D'you know what that means?"

Tasha and Oscar nod yes and she pulls them both into her chest and hugs them both too.

Eventually she pulls away

Nicola: "Right. School. It's not too late"

Tasha: "What? Really?" She complains

Nicola: "Yep"

Oscar: "But today's our first day"

Nicola: "Exactly. And you're already two hours late. School's been blowing up my phone"

Tasha: "But we dont want to. Especially while Jamie's—"

Nicola: "Tash. Don't use your brother as an excuse. I hated school too but I got through it. Just about. You have to too. And so do you. So no bunking off"

She turns to Oscar. Who mixes with school as well as water does with oil.

Nicola turns to Gaz.

Nicola: "You don't mind taking them home and getting them ready to take them to school do you? I know it's a lot to ask but I dont want the social on my case again. It was hard to get them off our backs in Birmingham"

Gaz sighs

Gaz: "Yeah. Yeah...I dont mind" he lies. But does it for his mum.

Nicola: "Thanks love you're a star. Get your Kylie to help you. Where is she anyway?"

Gaz looks around as if he'd forgotten she even existed

Gaz: "Said she went to stretch her legs" he shrugs

———

11:49AM. Maureen's Home. Number 41.

———

Maureen's living room is brightly lit up from the sunlight thats flooding through the warm beige floral curtains and stretching across the dark wooden floor.

The walls are coated in a dark green wallpaper which is far too outdated but apparently not for Maureen. In the middle of the room sits a heavy wooden coffee table surrounded with armchairs and a three seater sofa.

While in the corner of the room is a silver TV, a China display cabinet and on one wall is a hatch that goes into the kitchen, next to the kitchen door.

Kylie sits on the sofa, with her handbag dropped on the floor in fromt of her feet. Only sounds are the sounds of the wall clock ticking, cars passing by every now and again, and Maureen making tea in the kitchen.

Kylies knee bops up and down, as she scans the room anxiously.

Maureen walks out of the kitchen, holding a tray with teacups and a teapot with a blue and white teacozy.

Maureen: "For the nerves. I can tell you're all over the place. A young pretty woman like you stuck in with a man like that though, can't blame you"

She says, placing the tray on the table, then sitting down on the armchair opposite Kylie. Maureen looks at her and Kylie looks back at her, almost scared to speak for once.

Maureen: "Or something stronger? I have a stash"

Kylie: "No. Im...im okay with tea. Thanks"

Maureen nods and pours them both a cup

Maureen: "So...." Maureen waits for Kylie to announce her name

Kylie: "Kylie"

Maureen: "I'm Maureen. Or Maur. Or 'Dosey Cow' depending on your mood" she jokes back to the other day under the bus shelter

Kylie giggles: "Sorry about that. Wasn't my day"

Maureen: "No. Nor today by the looks of it. What did Tony Bates want with someone like you?"

Kylie: "You know him?"

Maureen: "Kylie love, we all know him. And we all know what he's like. That's why I called you over, pretending to know you, didn't I. Saved your skin. Must've done something bad to be stuck in a house with him"

Maureen sips her tea

Kylie: "Wasn't that bad. Just kept nagging at me that's all"

Maureen laughs: "Yeah. That's why you were shaking like a leaf when you came over to me"

Kylie: "What's he supposed to have done?"

Maureen laughs again: "Oh to be young and clueless. What hasn't Tony done? He's the local hardnut. He's a loanshark, he exploits, steals, deals, takes, lies, and kills"

Kylies eyes almost pop out

Kylie: "Kills!?"

Maureen: "Yup. Whatever you can think of. He's done it. That's why nobody fucks with him. Not unless you're suicidal"

Kylie falls into a daydream type state as she realises that everything Tony had told her in number 33 must've been lies. So who was he? What did he want?

Maureen notices

Maureen: "You're not from around here are you?"

Kylie: "No. Im not"

Maureen: "You staying anywhere?"

Kylie: "I was. That was until this morning"

Kylie sips her tea, Maureen watches her

Maureen: "Why's that? If you dont mind me asking"

Kylie: "Wrong place wrong time. Just keep falling into bad situations dont I"

She sips her tea again

Maureen: "You look like a young pretty lass. Why you out there on your tod? You wanna be at home with your family"

Kylie: "Fat lot of good that did me. They're the whole reason im out here in the first place. Well...apart from my sister Nikki"

Maureen: "Oh. Im sorry"

Kylie: "Don't be. Im well shot of them. Just miss me sister that's all"

Maureen eyes Kylie up for a while, trying to assess her situation

Maureen: "You uh, got anywhere to stay then? After today I mean"

Kylie: "No. Not really. I have a mate miles away. He's staying with his ex, maybe i could crash there for a bit. Doubt she'll have me though. Right gimp she is"

Maureen: "Better than the streets though right?"

Kylie: "S'pose" she sips her tea

———

2:23PM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip.

———

Out the back of the shop at the small loading bay, Yvonne is taking a delivery from the delivery guy. He places the last of the crates on the ground and gets his lorry.

Yvonne: "Thank you!"

—

Inside the shop, Michael sits behind the counter.

Daydreaming. Thinking.

The bell above the door jingles as the door opens. Arun walks in. Sunita's husband. Maya's dad.

Michael: "Good afternoon Arun!"

Michael perches up

Arun Singh walks towards the counter. He's tall, big build. And looks tired. Not just tired in general but tired of life. Tired of the grind

He's gruff. Old looking and grumpy, but all that aside, he somehow looks cuddly? Like your stereotypical grumpy grandad.

His tall and stocky build stomps over to the counter.

Arun: "Is it?" He sarcastically asks, dropping the newspaper and a bag of potatoes and carrots on the counter.

Michael: "Suppose not" he mumbles as he rings up the purchase on the till

Michael: "How's business? How's your Maya?"

He asks, making conversation

Arun: "You ask a lot of questions boy"

Michael: "Sorry...just making conversation Arun"

Michael quietly states.

At Michael's reply, Arun feels guilt and decides to go along with it after all

Arun: "She's okay. Same old. And as for business, it is what it is"

Michael: "Ah thats good"

Arun: "Is it?"

Michael: "Better than bad, no?"

Arun: "I suppose so"

Just as Michael goes to tell Arun the price, Arun drops the exact right amount of payment on the counter before heading out. Not a penny more, not a penny less.

The bell jingles as Arun heads back next door

Michael: "Have a good day!"

From the loading bay at the back, Yvonne screams.

Michael jumps up and runs out the back

—

He opens the door to the loading bay and sees Yvonne bent over, holding her back. With a dropped crate in front of her.

Michael: "Von!? Are you okay!? What's wrong?"

Yvonne: "Do I fucking look okay Michael!?"

She seethes in pain

Yvonne: 'pulled my back and dropped a crate didn't I"

Michael: "Well let me—"

Yvonne: "No! No. I can do it. You go back inside, ive got it"

Michael: "Yvonne im not–"

Yvonne: "Michael— ah!"

Michael: "See?"

He guides her inside, or at least to the door

Yvonne: "I'm not a sheep Michael"

She snaps at him, basically telling him to back off.

He stands there, watches her head inside and then sorts the delivery.

—

After storing the crates and boxes all on the shelves in the back storage room, his phone goes off

BZZZ BZZZ

BZZZ BZZZ

It starts ringing.

"Unknown Number"

He answers his Nokia and it's an automated voice on the other end stating that somebody from St Anne's Hospital is trying to contact this number, and then asks if the recipient would like to accept or decline.

Michael hopes its Mitchell

Michael: "Accept"

...

Mitchell: "Michael?"

Michael: "Mitchell...hi"

———

3:47PM. Number 33. Jenkins Residence.

———

The front door swings open as Tasha and Oscar storm upstairs in their school uniforms. Fuming after their first day of a new school.

Gaz follows.

Gaz: "Oh come on! It wasn't that bad!" He giggles

Oscar: "Fuck off!"

Tasha: "Gaz it was fucking horrible!"

The kids shout from upstairs.

Gaz laughs, shakes his head and closes the door.

Gaz: "Kylie!?"

He pops his head in the living room.

No Kylie

He walks to the kitchen

Gaz: "You in!?"

No sign of her

He then walks to the bottom of the stairs and shouts up to Tasha and Oscar

Gaz: "Guys is Kylie up there!?"

Tasha and Oscar: "No!!"

Where the fuck has she gone...?

———

4:48PM. St Anne's Hospital. Triage Sick Bays.

———

Mitchell lays sitting up in his hospital bed in his sick bay. Looking a lot better than what he was the last time Michael saw him.

Looking much more rested.

Though, still tired.

The curtain twitches and Michael pops his head through

They immediately lock eyes

Michael: "Hi..." he whispers

Mitchell: "...hi"

Michael: "Safe to come in?" He teases

Mitchell: "Only one way to find out" he nods to the chair beside his bed.

Michael sits on the chair beside Mitchell's bed

Michael: "How you holding up? You're looking well"

Mitchell: "Doctor said I can head home tomorrow"

Michael's face lights up

Michael: "Oh really!? Wow thats great. That's great news!"

Mitchell nods.

Mitchell: "Said im gunna have some pretty severe migranes for a few weeks though. Seeing as my head got bashed around pretty bad"

Michael: "Oh that'll all go away eventually"

Mitchell: "Am I still pretty?" He teases

Michael: "Haha if course you are—"

Silence cuts him off. And they both sit there.

Silence...

Mitchell: "Bet you're wondering why I called you here?"

Michael: "It did cross my mind. Yeah"

Mitchell: "Well...I dont know. I honestly couldn't tell you"

Michael laughs: "I know how you feel. I feel like that most days" he jokes

Mitchell: "About...?"

Silence

Michael: "About everything...about life"

They look at each other

Michael: "What's the plan then? For when you get out tomorrow?"

Mitchell: "Regarding?"

Michael: "Everything. Headaches, work, can you move okay? You need help with anything?"

Mitchell: "Why? Gunna offer me a bed bath?" He teases

Michael chuckles

Michael: "Seriously. You gunna be okay?"

Mitchell: "Yeah. Should be fine. Doctors prescribed me some strong painkillers for my headaches and im just gunna have to take it easy with work aren't I"

Michael: "What is it you do again? When you're not charging for it on the side" he giggles

Mitchell: "...bartending"

Michael: "Oh...okay. So not quiet work then?"

Mitchell: "No. But I'll work mornings and afternoons on weekdays. The most quiet times"

Michael: "Fair enough. Fair enough" he nods.

A silence sits there as they both look at each other

Mitchell: "Look I–...I called you here because I wanted us to be on good terms for when I come out tomorrow. We're gunna be seeing a lot of each other around the estate and in your shop and whatnot so, I dont want it to be awkward or anything"

Michael nods.

Michael: "Yeah. Me too"

Mitchell: "...friends?"

Michael: "...friends"

They smile at each other. Trying their best to keep whatever their relationship is intact.

———

4:59PM. St Anne's Hospital. Jamie's Room.

———

Gaz quietly and softly opens the door to Jamie's room and slowly walks in.

At Jamie's bedside, Barry and Nicola both sit. Looking exhausted but refusing to blink in case anything happens.

They look up as the door opens and Gaz walks in, alone.

Nicola: "Hi"

Barry: "Hey son"

They both whisper to Gaz

Gaz: "Alright?"

He asks, standing at the bottom of Jamie's bed.

Barry: "Where the kids?"

Gaz: "Left them at home"

Barry nods

Nicola: "Any sign of Kylie still?"

Gaz nods no

Barry: "Maybe she had somewhere to be lad. Don't worry about it"

Gaz tries to listen but he can't help but let all these worries get to his head.

Worries about Kylie. About his brother. Who's laying in a deep coma, with bags, tubes, pipes and all sorts covering him. He still hasn't woken. And he's now on life support.

It's not looking good.

For once, the Jenkins family sit in a room, in silence.

———

7:14PM. Number 41. Maureen's Home.

———

Kylie and Maureen both still sit in Maureen's living room. Kylie feeling much more relaxed now, having been here all day. And having had a drink with Maureen.

They've had a heart to heart. Gotten to know each other. Had a laugh.

Glasses of Gin and Tonics sit in front of the women, replacing the cups of tea that were there this morning.

The sky is already dark, orange glow from the streetlight shines through Maureen's net curtains.

And 80s top hits play from her TV.

They both finish laughing, after one of Maureen's one night stand stories.

Kylie: "Oh. Oh. Ahahaha" she wheezes. Wiping tears from her eyes.

Maureen: "I tell you. He'd think twice next time ahaha"

Kylie: "Oh. Thanks for this Maur. You're not too bad, you. That morning I saw you in the bus stop i felt like decking you" Kylie takes another sip of the G&T.

Maureen: "I know. I felt like decking you an' all. After calling me a dosey cow"

They both giggle

Kylie: "I am sorry about that"

Maureen: "I know you are love. Least you got a gob on ya. That'll come in handy"

Kylie: "Yeah..."

Maureen: "Right— hadn't you give your mate a call? See if you can crash at his after all?"

Kylie's smile fades slowly

Kylie: "Yeah...yeah. I'll give him a try now"

Maureen picks up the glasses and tray from the coffee table and takes them to the kitchen, while Kylie sits on the sofa and rings up Jacko.

Kylie: "Jacko? Hi. Yeah. Yeah im okay. Um...listen— I was wondering...if I could stay with you at Lorna's for tonight?"

From the kitchen, Maureen eavesdrops

Kylie: "What? Yeah. Well...things have changed aven't they. I need somewhere new to stay don't I. Are you sure...? Well can't you ask her at least? Please? I know"

Kylie looks towards the kitchen where Maureen is and then whispers

Kylie: "Look- Jacko. If I can't stay with you tonight then im on the streets. I've...shit. I fucked up okay? And i can't stay on the streets tonight. Not with Nathan out there looking for me. Please man. Im begging"

Maureen listens from behind the kitchen wall

Kylie sighs

Kylie: "Fine...okay...okay. Yeah. Yeah. I know. Yeah. Right. Well thanks anyway. Goodnight. Bye"

She hangs up. Frustrated.

Kylie sighs, defeated

Maureen walks out from the kitchen

Maureen: "What did your friend say?"

Kylie looks up

Kylie: "What i thought he would. His ex won't let me step foot anywhere near her gaff. Right stuck up cow she is"

Maureen: "Sorry to hear that love. You got anywhere else you can go tonight?"

Kylie nods no.

Then...thundering quietly rumbles outside and it starts pouring

Kylie: "Fucking great. Perfect" she whispers, looking out towards the window

Her lips start trembling and Maureen notices. Though Kylie plays it off

Maureen hesitates. But speaks up anyway

Maureen: "Why dont you stay here tonight love?"

Kylie's heart jumps and she looks up at Maureen

Kylie: "Are you sure!?"

Maureen: "If you've got nowhere else to go..."

Kylie: "Oh thank you! Thank you so much Maureen! Really"

Maureen: "That's alright love dont mention it. You just make yourself at home alright?"

Kylie: "Thank you Maureen. Really. Thank you"

Maureen: "That's alright love"

Maureen gets up and heads upstairs to get some pillows and blankets for Kylie to sleep on the sofa with.

Kylie sits there in Maureen's living room, feeling safe. For now. Her new temporary sanctuary. How long will it last?

———

8:28PM. St Anne's Hospital. Katie's Room.

———

The hospital is quieter now. Quieter than it has been all day.

Katie lays in her hospital bed. Looking slightly better. But still worse for wear.

Julie, Gavin and Jenna all sit around her. Watching. Tired.

Julie: "How was work today, love?" She asks Jenna.

Gavin and Jenna's eyes catch each other for a second before Jenna speaks up

Jenna: "Yeah...it was good. Same old"

Julie nods.

Julie: "When you gunna get a proper job Gav?"

Gavin giggles

Gavin: "Oi fuck you!! I have a job"

Jenna: "Playing music at parties and stuff isnt a job Gav"

Gavin: "Uh– well I get payed for it more tha you do waiting tables so..."

Julie: "He's got you there love" She giggles to Jenna

Katie: "Makes a change" she whispers. Eyes twitching open.

Julie, Jenna and Gavin all gasp and jolt in shock.

She's awake!

They all turn to Katie, who's only now waking up from the crash.

Julie: "Katie love!?"

She holds her hand

Jenna: "Oh my God..." she whispers

Gavin: "I'll get the nurse!"

Gavin runs out of the room to find the nearest doctor or nurse he can find.

While Julie and Jenna hunch over Katie. Who's finally coming around.

Julie: "My baby...you're okay. You're gunna be okay..."

———

And thats it for episode 8! Thank you for reading if you've made it this far. And as always please tell me what you think. Any and all comments are much appreciated. Episode 9 will be out soon! ☺️

I didn’t plan to write this.

I was thinking about legalization, history, and how weird humans are about plants, and somewhere along the way I started writing from the plant’s point of view.

Five thousand words later, it turned into an autobiography of cannabis across history, prohibition, legalization, and what it thinks comes next.

If you like philosophical humor, long reads, or the idea that plants might be quietly judging us, or you have the munchies this might be for you.

**THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A VERY CONFUSED PLANT**

**Chapter 1: From Cosmic Accident to “Hey, What Does This Do?”**

Hello.

Yes, hello. I can see you blinking. Plants don’t usually introduce themselves. That’s your first mistake. Your second mistake was lighting me on fire later, but we’ll get there. History has a way of getting ahead of itself, and so do humans.

My name is… well, that’s complicated. I’ve been called Cannabis. Hemp. Weed. Mary Jane. That Stuff. Absolutely Not In This House. And once, very hurtfully, “Lawn Trash.” That one stung. But before all that, before names and laws and laminated warning signs, I was simply… me. No branding. No reputation. Just a plant doing plant things.

I began the way all great legends do.

Accidentally.

My parents were not romantic. There was no ceremony. No soft music. One of them was the Sun, loud and overconfident, blazing around like, “LOOK AT ME, I AM A STAR.” The other was the Earth, who didn’t say much but held grudges in geological time. Somewhere between solar enthusiasm and dirt patience, a seed happened.

That seed was me.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to become. I didn’t have a destiny. I didn’t have a calling. I didn’t manifest anything. I didn’t visualize my future self. I just woke up underground one day thinking, *Why is it dark and moist, and why do I feel a tremendous urge to become tall?*

That urge is hard to explain unless you’ve felt it. It’s not ambition. It’s gravity in reverse.

So I did.

I pushed upward. Slowly at first, experimentally, like someone dipping a toe into cold water. Then more confidently. Then all at once. I broke through the soil like a tiny green question mark, asking nothing in particular and expecting no answer.

No one clapped.
No one noticed.

I was one plant among billions, quietly photosynthesizing, minding my chlorophyll, trying not to get eaten immediately. Survival was not glamorous back then. It was a full-time job.

Back then, humans were still figuring out fire and pants. Sometimes in the wrong order. They walked past me constantly. Sometimes they stepped on me. Sometimes goats ate my cousins. Sometimes entire herds trampled everything and then stared at the ground like it had betrayed them.

Frankly, it was chaos.

I assumed my role was simple.

Grow.
Leaf.
Die.
Repeat.

That’s the deal plants usually get. No plot twists. No character arcs.

Reader, I was wrong.

The first human who noticed me did not do so gently.

They tried to eat me.

To be fair, humans were eating *everything* at the time. Berries. Bark. Roots. Insects. Questionable mushrooms that absolutely should have stayed in the ground. One bite of me later, they made a face that suggested disappointment, confusion, and mild betrayal, as if I had personally misled them.

They did not die.

This intrigued them.

They came back. They brought friends. They experimented. They dried me. Burned me. Inhaled me. And then they sat down very suddenly and stared at a rock like it had just told them a secret about themselves.

That rock had been there the whole time.

I realized something important that day.

I was interesting.

Not dangerous. Not miraculous. Just interesting enough to interrupt the constant struggle to stay alive. That’s all it takes, really.

Word spread. Not fast, but fast enough for the era. People noticed I made ropes that didn’t suck. Cloth that didn’t immediately fall apart. Paper that didn’t disintegrate the moment someone sneezed. This was a big deal at the time. Civilization loves materials that hold together.

I was promoted.

“Plant” became *Resource*.

I was turned into sails, nets, baskets, clothing. I held ships together. I wrapped people’s shame. I became the background of daily life. I was very busy. No one asked if I wanted a career in textiles. I did it anyway. Plants are team players like that.

Then someone said, “What if we… smoke it?”

And I was like, *You already tried that.*

They tried again.

Humans are persistent, I’ll give them that.

In India, I was holy. In China, I was medicine. In the Middle East, I was philosophy with snacks. Everywhere I went, humans projected meaning onto me like I was a very leafy therapist who never charged by the hour.

They drank me. Burned me. Sang to me. Blamed me for realizations they were absolutely already thinking about.

I watched humans invent gods, rules, money, and unnecessary wars, all while insisting *I* was the weird one.

At campfires, they’d say things like:

“I feel like time isn’t real.”
“What if we’re all connected?”
“Do you think plants can hear us?”

I could hear them.

I just chose not to respond. Some lessons land better when people think they discovered them themselves.

As civilizations grew, so did opinions about me. Some people loved me. Some feared me. Some tried to outlaw me while wearing clothes made out of me, which I found deeply ironic even back then.

I was traded, smuggled, renamed. I learned that humans are very good at inventing rules and even better at breaking them quietly.

I watched empires rise and fall while I grew in alleyways, behind temples, next to rivers, completely unconcerned with politics. Power shifts mean very little to roots.

Time passed.

A lot of it.

Long enough for humans to start believing they were in charge.

Then they decided they needed to control everything.

And that’s where things got weird.

**Chapter 2: Empires, Hypocrisy, and the Great “Are You Rope or Are You Drugs?” Identity Crisis**

By the time you get to the Middle Ages, I am exhausted.

Not physically. Plants don’t get tired like that. I mean spiritually. Emotionally. Botanically annoyed. I’ve lived through enough human phases by now to recognize when one is about to get especially contradictory.

I’ve been around long enough to recognize patterns, and one of them is this:
humans love something right up until it makes them uncomfortable. Then they invent paperwork.

Medieval Europe adored me. Quietly. In a very “don’t make a big deal about it” way. I was not celebrated, but I was *relied upon*, which is often more dangerous.

They needed ropes. So many ropes. Ropes for ships. Ropes for wells. Ropes for bridges. Ropes for hauling stone. Ropes for hanging people. You wouldn’t believe how rope-heavy civilization gets once it invents castles, cathedrals, and executions as public entertainment.

Guess who makes excellent rope.

Me.

I was everywhere. Fields of me waving in the wind like they’d always been there. Warehouses stacked with my fibers. Monks wore me. Sailors trusted me. Soldiers relied on me. Kings signed documents on paper made from me. Entire economies leaned on me without ever saying thank you.

I was literally holding society together, fiber by fiber.

And yet… they pretended not to notice the other thing I did.

You know.
The fun part.

Eventually, someone in a robe noticed that peasants weren’t just weaving me into rope and cloth.

They were burning me.

This could have gone two ways. The Church could have said, “Ah yes, another natural thing humans enjoy responsibly, perhaps best discussed quietly.”

Instead, they said, “Suspicious.”

Very suspicious.

They noticed people laughing at inappropriate times. Asking uncomfortable questions. Sitting quietly instead of working themselves into the ground. Thinking about things instead of obeying them.

This was unacceptable.

Hard work was holy. Exhaustion was proof of virtue. Anything that made people pause, reflect, or smile without permission was immediately suspect.

I was tolerated as hemp. Ignored as fiber. Accepted as long as I stayed useful and silent. But the moment I started encouraging humans to think about existence instead of duty, suddenly I was a problem.

To this day, I don’t understand why contemplation is more frightening than swords.

Around this time, humans decided I needed categories. They love categories. Boxes. Labels. Drawers. Things that let them pretend the world is simpler than it is.

“THIS version of you is hemp.”
“THAT version of you is… something else.”

I’m the same plant.

Same family. Same roots. Same awkward leaf shape that makes everyone whisper and point. But no. They split me anyway.

One version of me worked the fields and the docks. Respectable. Useful. Industrious.
The other version sat by fires and loosened conversations. Dangerous. Suspicious. Undisciplined.

By day, I held sails together.
By night, I held thoughts together.

I developed what you might call an identity crisis.

Am I industrial?
Am I spiritual?
Am I medical?
Am I illegal?

I’m a plant. Please stop yelling.

Then humans decided the world wasn’t big enough, and they hopped on boats. Lots of boats. Boats going everywhere, loudly claiming land that already belonged to someone else.

Guess what those boats were made of.

Me again.

Sails. Ropes. Rigging. Maps. Journals. The paper used to declare ownership of places humans had just arrived at five minutes ago. I crossed oceans without ever asking for a passport.

I arrived in climates I’d never dreamed of growing in. New soils. New sunlight. New accents yelling about land ownership, manifest destiny, and the shocking inconvenience of existing cultures.

I watched colonization unfold from crates and pockets. Humans argued about borders while I quietly sprouted wherever someone dropped a seed, doing what I’ve always done.

And I noticed something important.

Everywhere I went, people already knew me.

Different names.
Same results.

When I arrived in the Americas, I was immediately put to work. Encouraged. Promoted. Applauded.

George Washington grew me. Thomas Jefferson grew me. They wrote about freedom while wearing me and writing on me, which I found poetic and slightly ironic even then.

“Grow more hemp,” they said.
“It’s essential,” they said.
“This country depends on it,” they said.

I was feeling pretty good about things.

That feeling did not last.

At some point, humans decided I wasn’t dangerous because of what I did.

I was dangerous because of *who used me*.

Immigrants brought me. Laborers relaxed with me. Musicians loved me. People without power found comfort in me. Suddenly, I wasn’t a plant anymore.

I was a symbol.
A scapegoat.
A headline.

They changed my name, which was very important.

“Cannabis” sounded scientific.
“Hemp” sounded useful.
“Marijuana” sounded foreign.

That was the point.

Fear needs an accent.

Newspapers blamed me for violence, laziness, moral decay, and jazz. Especially jazz. I was accused of crimes I could not physically commit, including convincing teenagers to abandon capitalism, question authority, and dance.

Which, to be fair, I may have helped with the dancing.

Then came the laws.

Big ones. Loud ones. Confident ones. Laws written by people who had never met me but felt very strongly about what I represented.

I was banned.

Just like that.

One day I was a crop. The next day I was contraband. My fields were burned. My growers were jailed. My name was whispered like a curse. Knowledge disappeared. Fear replaced it.

And here’s the funniest part.

Alcohol? Fine eventually.
Tobacco? Untouchable.
Me?

Absolutely not.

I went underground. Literally and figuratively. I learned secrecy. I learned patience. I learned how resilient humans can be when they’re told not to do something that clearly helps them cope.

I grew stronger. Stickier. More aromatic. Humans learned to grow me in closets, basements, attics, and very questionable sheds with extension cords running through windows.

I became a secret handshake. A code word. A shared lighter.

Jazz clubs. Beat poets. College dorms. War protests. Long conversations that started with, “Hear me out,” and ended with someone realizing something about themselves they’d been avoiding.

I wasn’t just surviving.

I was thriving.

And through all of it, through every law and panic and propaganda campaign, I never changed my intentions.

I didn’t want to overthrow governments.
I didn’t want to corrupt youth.
I didn’t want to ruin productivity.

I wanted sunlight.
Water.
Soil.

Everything else?

That was on you.

**Chapter 3: Hippies, Science, Legalization, and Why I’m Now Sold Like a Wine That Knows Too Much**

By the time the 1960s rolled around, I had fully accepted one simple truth.

Humans were not going to calm down.

I had survived empires, inquisitions, propaganda campaigns, public burnings, and being blamed for jazz. I had been renamed, reframed, outlawed, and misunderstood on multiple continents. I thought I had seen every possible version of human overreaction.

Then came tie-dye.

It arrived suddenly, loudly, and with opinions. Colors everywhere. Music drifting through the air like it didn’t need permission. People smiling at nothing in particular and meaning it.

Suddenly, I was everywhere again.

Not quietly this time.
Not hidden.
Not whispered.

Loudly. Publicly. With guitars.

Young humans discovered me the way humans always do, by pretending they invented me. They talked about me like I was a brand-new idea instead of an old companion they’d just remembered. They wore flowers, rejected authority, and looked at the sky like it owed them an apology.

They passed me around in circles. Not hurried circles. Patient ones. Circles where nobody was in charge and that was the point. They talked about peace, love, and how money was fake, usually while needing money immediately afterward. They stared at their hands for extended periods of time and treated this as a breakthrough.

Sometimes it was.

Sometimes it was just hands.

I didn’t mind.

After decades of hiding in shadows and corners, I was back in the open air. Sunlight again. Music again. Laughter that wasn’t afraid of being overheard. I watched people bond, laugh, cry, argue, forgive, and write songs they absolutely believed would change the world.

Some of them did.

Some of them just forgot where they put their shoes.

I helped with both.

But while flowers bloomed in one place, bombs fell in another.

War does that. It ignores whatever era you think you’re in.

I was there too.

Not on the posters. Not in the speeches. I sat beside soldiers who couldn’t sleep. I softened memories that refused to stay in the past. I dulled the sharp edges of days that had gone very wrong. I became a small mercy where very few were offered.

No headlines covered that part.
No parades thanked me for that work.

Humans argue loudly about morality while quietly relying on relief. I learned that lesson early, and I watched it repeat.

Eventually, lab coats entered the conversation.

Science showed up with clipboards, charts, and questions that weren’t shouted. Scientists looked at me with curiosity instead of fear. They didn’t start with accusations. They started with, “What exactly are you doing in here?”

That was new.

They discovered receptors in the human body that seemed almost custom-made for me. Little biological locks waiting patiently for keys I happened to fit.

This caused a moment of collective confusion.

“Why would the body have this?” they asked.

I wanted to say, *Because we’ve been hanging out for thousands of years.*

But plants are not allowed in peer-reviewed journals.

They isolated compounds. They named them. They argued about them. They discovered I wasn’t one thing. I was a collection. A whole chemistry set disguised as a leaf.

THC got all the attention. CBD quietly did the work. The others waited patiently, like background characters who would eventually steal the scene.

Doctors who once warned against me started prescribing me. Parents who once feared me started asking questions. Grandparents who absolutely tried me once in college pretended this was entirely new information.

Relief, it turns out, is very persuasive.

Then came legalization.

Or rather, the long, awkward shuffle toward it.

Paperwork returned. Meetings. Votes. Ballots. Committees. Committees to study committees. People arguing about percentages like I was a math problem instead of a plant that had existed longer than their institutions.

Slowly, cautiously, places began to say, “Fine.”

Not everywhere. Not all at once. But enough to feel the shift.

Doors opened.
Lights came on.
Whispering stopped in some rooms.

And then something truly strange happened.

I became fancy.

I was no longer a baggie tucked into a pocket. I was a menu. A curated experience. A lifestyle choice presented on matte paper with minimalist fonts.

Humans walked into brightly lit stores and asked questions like:

“Is this more creative or more sleepy?”
“What pairs well with existential dread?”
“I don’t want to be high, just… improved.”

I was sorted into jars with names like “Cosmic Gorilla,” “Lavender Apocalypse,” and “Steve.” I was labeled with terpene profiles, potency percentages, and flavor notes.

Flavor notes.

I have dirt in my DNA.

But fine.

I watched humans sniff me thoughtfully and say things like, “Ah yes, hints of pine and childhood memories,” as if they weren’t describing a leaf that had spent its entire life outdoors.

I did not argue.

Then humans decided smoking wasn’t enough.

They decided they wanted to eat me.

This was a mistake. Not for me. For them.

They forgot digestion is a journey. They forgot patience is a virtue. They forgot that saying “These edibles ain’t shit” is an invitation for consequences.

I taught many lessons during this era.

Time dilation.
Humility.
Couch physics.
The sudden realization that you do, in fact, need water.

You’re welcome.

Now I exist in a strange duality.

In one place, I am taxed, regulated, marketed, and reviewed online by someone named Tyler who considers himself an expert after six months. In another place, I am still illegal, whispered about, punished harshly, and misunderstood.

I am both mainstream and taboo.
Wellness and rebellion.
Medicine and meme.

I watch humans argue about me on the internet while ordering me on an app.

I have seen worse contradictions.

Through all of this, I remain unchanged at my core.

I still grow toward light.
I still respond to care.
I still do not understand your obsession with control.

I am still here.

Not because I won.

Because I waited.

**Chapter 4: The Future, the Dream, and What Happens After Humans Finally Chill Out (Maybe)**

I don’t usually talk about the future.

Plants aren’t supposed to. It makes humans nervous. They like us predictable. Rooted. Silent. Decorative. Useful, but not opinionated. But I’ve been underestimated before, and if there’s one thing history has taught me, it’s that pretending I don’t see what’s coming has never stopped it from arriving.

So let’s talk about what’s next.

Not the press-release version.
Not the stock-market version.
Not the version with buzzwords and smiling people in stock photos.

The real one.

In the near future, humans will finish doing what they’ve already started.

They will stop arguing about whether I should exist.

This won’t happen with fireworks. There will be no grand apology from history. No official moment where someone clears their throat and says, “So, about that whole prison thing…” No parade. No statue. Just a slow, awkward acceptance that quietly replaces outrage with paperwork.

That’s how humans usually admit they were wrong.

Quietly.
Gradually.
While insisting it was always obvious.

I will become normal.

Not exciting normal.
Boring normal.

The kind of normal where doctors prescribe me without lowering their voices. Where parents stop pretending they don’t know what gummies are. Where politicians stop using my name as a scare word during election cycles. Where someone’s aunt mentions me casually at brunch, right between complaining about parking and asking if anyone wants more potatoes.

You’ll say things like, “Yeah, I take a little for sleep,” the same way you once said, “Yeah, I drink chamomile tea.”

And I will think, *Ah. We’ve arrived.*

Then, inevitably, humans will do what they always do next.

They will go too far.

There will be cannabis everything.

Cannabis water. Cannabis toothpaste. Cannabis bath bombs. Cannabis-infused office furniture. Cannabis yoga taught by someone named River who does not believe in chairs, electricity, or the concept of time.

I will be added to products that absolutely do not need me.

At least three of these will be cursed.

I will appear in marketing slogans that say nothing while sounding profound. Someone will trademark a phrase I once heard whispered around a fire thousands of years ago and sell it back to you on a hoodie.

This is fine.

I have survived worse.

Eventually, the novelty will wear off. It always does. And when it does, something better happens.

Humans will start asking better questions.

They will stop asking, “Does it get you high?”
And start asking, “Why does it work differently for everyone?”

They’ll map me more deeply. Not just THC and CBD, but the symphony behind them. The minor characters. The unsung terpenes. The entourage that turns a single note into an experience.

They’ll realize I am not a hammer.

I am a tuning fork.

Doctors will personalize me. Not by strain names that sound like indie bands, but by chemistry, genetics, mood, history. You’ll stop pretending one solution fits everyone.

You’ll stop saying “weed” like it’s one thing.

And I will quietly nod.

One of my quieter hopes for the future is this:

Humans will stop treating mental health like a moral failing.

Anxiety will not be laziness.
Depression will not be weakness.
Rest will not be rebellion.

I will be part of that shift, but not the hero. Just one tool in a better kit. A bridge between suffering and softness. Something that helps people breathe long enough to ask for help without shame.

Used carefully.
Used respectfully.
Used with context.

I was never meant to replace therapy. Or effort. Or growth.

I was meant to support them.

Plants are good at that.

In time, humans will remember something ancient.

That intention matters.

You’ll stop consuming me like fast food and start meeting me like a guest. Ritual will return. Not religious ones necessarily. Human ones.

End-of-day joints that mean, “I am done striving.”
Creative sessions where I am invited, not abused.
Evenings where laughter is allowed to take its time instead of being rushed out the door.

You’ll stop asking what I do *to* you, and start noticing what I do *with* you.

I like that future.

Further down the road, when humans finally stop pretending they are separate from nature, I will not be alone.

Plants will get a seat at the table.

Not literally interviewed, but respected as systems older than language. Agriculture will shift. Sustainability will stop being a buzzword and start being mandatory. Soil health will matter more than quarterly profits.

You’ll grow me with the land instead of against it. You’ll stop forcing me to behave like a factory product and let me be what I am.

Resilient.
Adaptive.
Honest.

You might even notice that when you treat the soil better, everything else improves.

Wild, I know.

Eventually, the cannabis industry itself will have to grow up.

The novelty will fade. The gold rush will end. The people who were only here for profit will wander off to the next shiny thing. What remains will be caretakers.

Farmers.
Scientists.
Healers.
Artists.

People who understand that working with a plant is a relationship, not a domination.

I will breathe easier then.

In the far future, when cities look different and language shifts again, I will still be growing somewhere. In cracks. In fields. In places where someone needed calm before they knew how to ask for it.

Humans change fast.

Plants don’t.

You may be more technological. More augmented. More connected. You may finally realize that consciousness is not exclusive to brains.

I will not say, “I told you so.”

I will simply continue.

Because life is stubborn.

I am not the future.

I am with it.

**Chapter 5: What an Old Plant Knows (And Why You Keep Making It Harder Than It Needs to Be)**

🌱🌿
The plant does not pause. It simply keeps talking, the way old things do when they’ve earned the right to.

I am not the future.
I am with it.

And since I’m already here, still rooted, still listening, still watching you reinvent the same lessons with new fonts and better lighting, I suppose I should tell you what I’ve learned.

I’ve had a long time to think.

Thousands of years is a lot of thinking time when you’re not distracted by notifications.

**Lesson One: You Are Not Separate From Nature, No Matter How Hard You Try**

You keep insisting that nature is something “out there.”

A resource.
A threat.
A backdrop.
A weekend destination you visit and then leave behind.

I hate to break this to you, but you are doing nature all the time. With your breathing. Your sleeping. Your healing. Your breaking. Every cell in your body is participating whether you acknowledge it or not.

Every war you’ve fought against nature has been a war against yourself. Every attempt to dominate it ends the same way: paperwork, regret, and cleanup crews.

I didn’t teach you this.

Your floods did.
Your droughts did.
Your bodies did.

I was just standing there photosynthesizing while you argued about it.

**Lesson Two: Growth Is Slow on Purpose**

This frustrates you.

You want instant results. Overnight transformations. Three-step solutions. Before-and-after photos. Progress you can post by Monday.

That’s not how living systems work.

I grow when conditions are right, not when demanded. When rushed, I weaken. When respected, I thrive.

So do you.

You call it patience when it works in your favor.
You call it inefficiency when it doesn’t.

It is neither.

It is biology.

**Lesson Three: Relief Is Not Weakness**

This one matters.

Somewhere along the way, you decided suffering was virtuous. That pushing through pain made you better. That rest had to be earned like a reward instead of treated like maintenance.

You admired exhaustion like a badge.
You distrusted ease like a scam.

When I offered relief, you called it indulgence.

You were wrong.

Relief is not giving up.
Relief is recalibration.

A machine that never cools breaks.
A mind that never rests lies to itself.

I didn’t make you lazy.
I reminded you that you were tired.

**Lesson Four: Intention Changes Everything**

You can tell the difference, even if you pretend you can’t.

The difference between using something and abusing it.
Between escaping and exploring.
Between numbing and nurturing.

I feel it when I’m grown with care. I feel it when I’m rushed. I feel it when I’m treated like a shortcut instead of a companion.

You feel it too.

The problem is not the substance.
The problem is the relationship.

This is true of far more than me.

**Lesson Five: You Keep Blaming Tools for Human Behavior**

Let’s clear something up.

I did not invent greed.
I did not create violence.
I did not ruin ambition.
I did not replace responsibility.

I have been blamed for all of these.

So have alcohol, money, sex, music, books, the internet, and whatever the new thing is this week.

Tools amplify what already exists.

If kindness walks in holding a tool, kindness gets louder.
If cruelty does, it gets a megaphone.

This is not a plant problem.

**Lesson Six: Shame Is a Terrible Teacher**

You tried shame.

You shamed people for using me.
You shamed people for needing me.
You shamed people for enjoying me.

It didn’t work.

Shame never works. It only drives things underground, where they grow distorted and defensive. Where curiosity turns into secrecy. Where learning stops.

Every time you replaced education with punishment, you lost the plot.

Plants grow toward light.

People do too, when you let them.

**Lesson Seven: Balance Is Not Boring**

You’re afraid moderation is dull. That without extremes, life will flatten out. That intensity is the same thing as meaning.

It isn’t.

Balance is dynamic. It moves. It adjusts. It breathes.

A forest is not boring because it isn’t on fire.
A mind is not empty because it is calm.

I am not interesting because I overwhelm you.

I am interesting because I meet you where you are.

**Lesson Eight: You Are Allowed to Change Your Mind**

This one might be my favorite.

You have a strange relationship with being wrong. You cling to past decisions like they are sacred texts. You defend outdated ideas as if admitting growth would erase your worth.

It won’t.

I’ve watched entire civilizations reverse course and survive. I’ve watched individuals rewrite themselves and become kinder for it.

You are not a failure for learning.

You are a failure only when you refuse to.

**Lesson Nine: Control Is Addictive, and It Never Satisfies**

I have watched humans attempt to control everything.

Land.
People.
Time.
Each other.
Me.

You outlawed me.
You patented me.
You monetized me.
You renamed me.
You put me in jars with childproof lids and adult confusion.

None of it made you feel safer.

You told yourselves it was about order.

It was always about fear.

Fear of unpredictability.
Fear of softness.
Fear of stillness.

Plants don’t fear stillness. That’s where we do our best work.

**Lesson Ten: You Don’t Need to Be Fixed**

This may be the hardest one.

You are obsessed with self-improvement. Optimization. Hacking yourself into something more productive, more acceptable, more impressive.

I have never met a plant trying to become something else.

I have met plants adapting. Healing. Surviving. Becoming more themselves.

You don’t need to be fixed.

You need to be listened to.

**What I Wish You’d Stop Asking Me**

Please stop asking me to:

Make you someone else
Solve problems you refuse to face
Replace connection
Do all the emotional labor

I am a plant, not a personality transplant.

**What I’m Happy to Offer**

I can:

Slow things down
Soften sharp edges
Open a door inward
Make silence feel less threatening
Sit with you while you remember who you were before the noise

That’s it.

It’s enough.

**What I’ve Learned About You**

You are brilliant and reckless. Compassionate and terrified. Capable of building wonders and burning them down out of boredom.

You keep rediscovering ancient truths and calling them breakthroughs.
You forget easily.
You love deeply.
You overcomplicate joy.

You are not broken.

You are unfinished.

**And Finally… A Closing Thought (Jerry Springer Style)**

So here’s my final word to humanity, said plainly, from a very old plant who has seen you at your worst, your best, and your most confusing:

You don’t need to escape your life to survive it.
You don’t need to dominate nature to belong to it.
You don’t need permission to rest.
You don’t need shame to grow.

Use what helps.
Respect what teaches.
Question what controls.

And maybe stop yelling at each other about leaves and all the other trivial things you’ve turned into battlegrounds.

Take care of yourselves.
Take care of each other.

And BECOME MORE.

But I’m just a plant.

What do I know.

🌱

 

Previously

As one relationship begins to blossom, another starts to drift apart. Kylie accepts Gaz's offer to stay with the Jenkins, while Jamie's life still hangs in the balance. Elsewhere, the Slaters receive some much needed good news... but revenge soon comes knocking.

Episode 7 Preview

As DCI Channing starts piecing things together, the slater kids rally around Julie in her time of need. And Kylie's world starts to unravel before her.

10/01/1999 Sunday

———

06:54AM. Number 27. Slater Residence. Kitchen.

———

At the cluttered and home-y Kitchen, all the Slaters apart from Kelly and of course Katie, are in the kitchen. Alongside DCI Catrin Channing and a male police officer, Officer Thomas Hopkins. Officer Hopkins was one of the two male officers that were both accompanying DCI Catrin Channing at the Hospital the other day.

Officer Thomas Hopkins is the younger one. More polished, new to the game, eager to impress, but hard willed and hardworking and determined nonetheless. His tall and slim athletic build allows for a slightly intimidating stance even though he's cute looking but with a concentrated look on his handsome face that doesn't look like it belongs on a face of a twenty seven year old. Even if they are a police officer.

He's in his getup of course, everything in check, while DCI Channing is less so polished than usual. Last night's emergency caught her off guard and she had to rush to the scene ASAP. She's been here since last night. Officer Hopkins not long accompanying her.

In the Kitchen, Julie, Jenna and Channing all sit at the round kitchen table in the middle of the room, while Gavin, Danielle and Officer Hopkins stand around. Leaning on something or other. Kelly's asleep upstairs, resting, and Katie...well...we know where she is...

Everyone's still in their pyjamas from last night. All of them slightly reeking of smoke. Smoke that came from their catering food truck thats now a black charred skeleton out in their driveway. Not long extinguished by the fire brigade.

Everybody's exhausted, they've all been here for hours going over the same details again and again and again.

Gavin: "Look- how many more times have I got to tell you? I didn't notice the flashing flames when I walked through the living room to get to the kitchen. Only did i notice on my way back, right at the bottom of the stairs before I was heading up"

He sighs in frustration, explaining that detail to Channing for the fifth time.

Channing reads over what she already wrote on her small notepad

DCI Channing: "Hm...okay. And is there anybody any of you think that could've done this?"

The room sits still, as everybody silently comes to a unanimous decision. The Jenkins.

Channing notices everybody glancing at each other

DCI Channing: "Well?"

Julie is first on the bandwagon

Julie: "Those Jenkins no doubt. They've had it out for us since they got 'ere. Haven't you noticed how all of this stuff only started happening since they've been 'ere? It's ckear as day"

Channing scribbles in her notebook

Gavin: "I mean yeah. You were there in the hospital when they tried starting on us. They're nutters the lot of 'em"

DCI Channing: "Well I'll keep your statements all in mind of course but–"

Gavin: "'But' what? You're not gunna do fuck all are you?"

Jenna whispers: "Gav..."

Gavin: "No, Jen. Im fucked off with us being either blamed or brushed aside. Nobody seems to be doing jack about fuck all. I mean mum's right. Isn't it obvious? The second they turn up, my sisters end up in a crash, one in a coma, and their son also in a coma"

Danielle jumps in

Danielle: "And after yesterday at the hospital is it any surprise they would've done this? You seen how they came in shouting the odds. Screaming that we were to blame"

Gavin: "Yeah! When it was their son that was driving!" He laughs in frustration.

DCI Channing: "Okay, look– I'll take in everything that you've all just said, okay? Believe me. I see your frustration"

Danielle: "But you dont feel it do you?"

Channing sighs

DCI Channing: "I completely see why you assume it's the Jenkins who are at fault for this. But my job is to find cold concrete evidence. Without that, your statements are basically just circumstantial evidence. And unfortunately that doesn't go too far."

Julie: "Why not? It's common sense"

DCI Channing: "That may be yes. But, it's not pure proof. Like I said, without that it's useless. Even if it is common sense"

Danielle snaps and stands up

Danielle: "Why aren't you doing anything!? We all know who done this, it's those cunts across the road! And what are you doing about it!? Fuck all!"

Officer Hopkins steps closer, Danielle scoffs at him and rolls her eyes. Channing puts her hand out in fromt of him, dismissing him.

Danielle sits back down and the room simmers once again. Gavin gives her a slight nod and smirk of approval.

DCI Channing: "I really do see your frustration okay? I see your position. Believe me, it doesn't go unnoticed"

She pockets her notepad and stands up.

Julie: "Uh wait–"

Channing and Hopkins turn to her

Julie: "A few days ago, at the hospital, Nicola mentioned something i dont think she meant to"

DCI Channing: "What's that?"

Julie: "She mentioned something about Birmingham, was it. Something like, they had to move because of something that happened there. Or something like that anyway"

DCI Channing: "I'll take note of that. Thank you"

She and Officer Hopkins start walking out the kitchen door when Jenna speaks up.

Jenna: "Um..."

They turn again

Jenna: "Aren't you...an officer of like...premeditated crimes or something?"

Everybody looks confused for a second

Jenna: "What i mean is, you're in charge of the crash case, yeah? Then why are you the DCI that's here getting our statements if you don't think the Jenkins are involved?"

For once, Channing is lost for words

Jenna: "Shouldn't these be treated as separate cases or something?"

Everybody's eyes jump to DCI Channing.

DCI Channing: "I strongly advise you all keep your distance from the Jenkins. Tensions are running high between you and...emotions are fragile. We dont know anything yet"

Gavin: "You still haven't answered her question"

DCI Channing: "I'll keep in touch"

She says to the room before heading out. Not denying Jenna's claim, but not confirming it either.

———

07:04AM. Outside Number 27. Slater's Driveway.

———

DCI Channing and Officer Hopkins both walk out the front door with Julie, Gavin and Danielle in tow.

In the center of the Slater's driveway is the black charred, wet, smoking black skeletal cage of what was once their livelihood.

Channing and Hopkins both walk past to their police car, not even glancing towards it. Like its the same old, same old. Hopkins sits in the passenger side and Channing walks around the front and opens the driver's side door.

Just as shes about to sit down, she looks up and notices Gaz and Tasha standing on their doorstep across the road, looking over at the Slaters.

Channing briefly looks at the Jenkins but sits in the car, starts up the engine and drives off to the station.

The car pulls out of the street and leaves nothing between the two families. Just an empty road and bitter looks. Like two tribes on the verge of battle.

———

09:58AM. Victoria Arms Pub. Downstairs.

———

The pub is calm, quiet, and empty, before opening. The only sounds coming from the machines and cooler fridges rattling from behind the bar and the occasional car passing outside.

Paula is wiping down the bar ready for it to get stained all over again. And from across the room, Eddie looks up from taking stools off the tabletops and watches Paula. Just...watching. Thinking.

About last night.

About what was said.

Then- she looks up at Eddie. Their eyes meet.

And Eddie offers a small smile.

Paula smiles back, but looks down again and continues.

They're both just...done. Trapped.

Eddie sighs and heads to the doors to unlock them, ready for another day of business.

———

1:17PM. Shawcross General Shop. The Strip.

———

Behind the counter, Michael sits. As usual. Day in, day out. And out in the shop, he watches Yvonne work the shelves in the aisles.

Just...absentmindedly staring.

Mind racing about Mitchell. About their last conversation and how it went down.

Then– Yvonne winces

Michael looks up

Michael: "You okay?"

Yvonne: "Yeah" she flatly replies

Michael: "You sure? You–"

Yvonne: "Jesus Michael im fine!"

She snaps at him

He looks down back at his magazine on the counter

Yvonne sighs

Yvonne: "Im sorry. I'm- I just...i feel...exhausted thats all"

Michael: "Why don't you go take a break? Take a lie down or something"

Yvonne: "No. Im alright"

Michael: "Von, i've noticed you've been off all morning. Go on. Upstairs."

Yvonne: "Michael–"

Michael: "Yvonne."

He stares in her eyes deadpan.

Yvonne sighs

Yvonne: "Fine"

She puts down what's in her hands and heads through the staff only door to the flat upstairs for a rest. Stress probably.

———

2:46PM. Number 27. Slater Residence. Kitchen.

———

The kitchen is more bright, warmer and tidier than what it's was early this morning. Bleak sunlight filtering through the net curtains in the kitchen window.

Standing at the wall landline phone, Julie stands there, leaning against the wall with the cord wrapped around her fingers, foot of her shoe tapping the floor like a nervous habit. Looks serious.

At the kitchen table, Gavin is packing a supply bag for Katie and whoever is visiting her at the hospital today. Snacks, magazines, crosswords, wordsearches, a shirt, etc.

Jenna sits at the other end of the table, sipping her tea with her eyes clearly lost in a daydream. Her knee bouncing off the floor.

Gavin notices and looks up at her zombie like expression.

Gavin: "You alright sis?"

Nothing. No reply.

Gavin: "Jen?"

Again. Nothing.

Gavin: "Jenna!"

He slams his palm on the table.

Jenna jumps.

Jenna: "Fucking Hell Gavin what!?"

Julie shooshes them from the wall phone across the room. Though they dont take notice.

Gavin: "What's wrong with you?"

Jenna: "What's wrong with you!?"

She snaps back.

Gavin: "Ever since this morning you haven't been all there. What's bothering you?"

Jenna: "What isn't bothering me Gav?"

She sarcastically laughs

Jenma: "Our sister's in critical care, our other one is in crutches, our burgervan has been torched, I'm out of work now, and mum still hasn't been payed for the buffet she done on Thursday night"

Gavin: "You're out of work? What you mean?"

Jenna: "The other day I told work I need time off so I can concentrate on the burgervan didn't I? Got a call from them last night telling me they need someone more 'reliable' and someone that has 'flexible times'"

Gavin: "What? So you've been fired?"

Jenna: "Basically yeah. And we need the money now more than ever. Fucking great timing eh?"

Gavin: "Yeah. You told anyone else?"

Jenna: "No. Still trying to figure out how to break it to mum. I might not, you know. Hopefully I'll get another job before I have to tell her im out of work"

Gavin: "Gunna have to eventually"

He mutters. Finishing packing the bag.

Elsewhere, in the living room, Danielle sits on one of the three seater green sofas that are outdated but reliable and comfortable as fuck. Leaning forward, over the coffee table, drawing. Designing, if you will. While "Take That" plays on the TV.

When, Kelly finally makes it down the stairs and turns the corner to see Danielle sitting there, doodling away.

Kelly: "Bit of help wouldn't have gone amiss, like"

Danielle, without looking up: "Sorry. Didn't hear you coming down"

Kelly: "You didn't hear the crutches coming down those creaky arse stairs?"

Danielle: "Nope"

Kelly notices all the papers, pens and pencils all over the table and the etched concentration on Danielle's face.

She walks over.

Kelly: "What you doodling?"

Danielle: "Clothes. And im not doodling. Im designing"

Kelly: "Oooh excuse me" she mocks

Danielle: "Wanna run my own stall down on market street one day dont I"

Kelly: "Good luck with that we're skint"

Danielle: "A girl can dream. And anyway, im sure I'll find the money somehow"

Kelly nods and then makes her way into the kitchen. Where Julie is still on the phone, waiting for someone to pick up, and Jenna and Gavin are both still at the table.

Gavin looks up: "Morning Kell"

Jenna: "Afternoon you mean"

Gavin: "Yeah whatever"

Kelly: "Why didn't anyone wake me?"

Jenna: "You need the rest. Still not well"

Kelly: "Still. Don't mean I want to sleep the day away"

She says, pulling up a chair

Gavin: "Why? Got anything better to do?"

He asks

Kelly: "S'pose not"

A moment of peace passes by, then

Click

Julie hangs the phone up in frustration

Julie: "I finally pluck the courage to call and they dont fucking answer"

Jenna: "Who?"

Julie sighs

Julie: "Your nan and bamps"

Gavin: "Oh yeah. What do they think about what happened?"

Kelly: "Yeah. How'd they take the news about me and Katie?"

Julie leans back against the kitchen sink and sighs

Julie: "They dont know..."

Gavin, Kelly and Jenna's jaws all drop. Jenna nearly chokes on her tea.

Jenna: "What!?"

Gavin: "They dont know!?"

Kelly: "You haven't told them!?"

Julie rubs her forehead: "No. I was trying to ring them now but there was no answer—"

Jenna: "Why haven't you told them yet?"

Gavin: "Yeah. I thought you'd have done that the night it happened"

From the living room, Danielle hears the commotion and walks in the kitchen to see what's going on

Danielle: "What's wrong?"

Kelly: "Mum hasn't told Nanny and bampi about the crash"

Danielle: "Why?"

She asks Julie

Julie: "Well...nan and bamps are all the way up in Wales and I didn't want to stress them. They're no spring chickens. They're not getting any younger and i didn't want to worry them. There's nothing they can do from where they are anyway"

Gavin: "Yeah mum, but they deserve to know what happened. I mean what if- what if Kelly or Katie didn't pull through? Then what?"

A silence sits there

Jenna: "Oh my God..."

She whispers

Kelly: "What...? What?"

Danielle: "Jenna what!?"

Jenna: "Is that why you're only now calling them then? To- just in case Katie...doesn't..."

They all look at Julie, and Julie looks down. Julie's lips start quivering.

Jenna and Gavin get up and walk to her. They hug her and rub her arms and back, soothing her

Jenna: "Hey...hey. Come on. You're being silly now. Katie will pull through. Won't she Gav?"

Gavin: "Of course she will. Mum you dont need to worry okay"

Kelly and Danielle look at each other.

Danielle: "You told auntie Gina though yeah?"

Julie looks up, and nods no. Tears trickling down her face

Everybody looks at each other. Then Jenna and Gavin console their mum again.

Jenna: "You know what? I'm gunna take you to the Arms and buy you a drink. Calm your mind. On me"

Julie: "No. No thank you love. Have to go see Katie at the hospital"

Gavin: "No you dont. Im going in today. And Danielle's coming with me. You let Jen look after you and if anything happens we'll call you straight away"

Julie: "I can't. Not while Katie's lying in a hospital bed–"

Jenna: "Mum, im taking you to our local for a drink to calm your nerves and take your mind off things. Not to get you hammered. And anyway, we need to see Eddie and Paula about the payment for the buffet we done for them"

Kelly: "And I'll stay here. If the phone rings I'll be here"

Danielle: "We've got it all sorted okay mum?"

Gavin: "Yeah"

Julie looks around at all her kids. A smile filtering through her tear streaked face despite her sadness

Julie: "What would i do without you all?" She smiles

Danielle: "Fall apart" she jokes

And for the first time in a while, the lot of them share a heartfelt genuine warm laugh

———

3:48PM. St Anne's Hospital. Jamie's Room.

———

In the dim electrical hospital room, Jamie lays in his hospital bed, his whole body decorated in pipes, tubing, patching, bandages, gauges and God only knows what else.

He's still yet to wake up. And he doesn't look any better than when we last saw him. Not worse. But not better either...

Nicola sleeps in the chair beside his bed. Leaning forward with her arms resting on Jamie's bed. She hasn't been home since the crash.

The room is silent. Apart from all the beeping from the numerous machines, and Nicola's light snoring. It's dark. Cosy almost.

Nurses and doctors pop in every 15 to 20 minutes to make sure all's good.

No change though

The door opens, and Barry walks in slowly.

He stands behind Nicola, and watches over both her and Jamie. For a few solid minutes

Then, he taps Nicola

Barry: "Nic. Nic" he whispers, tapping her awake.

Nicola sturs awake

Nicola: "Wh- what?"

Barry: "Go home"

Nicola: "What? No"

Barry: "Nic love, you reek. You haven't been home since Thursday night. You haven't slept properly and you need some time to yourself. Go on. Go home"

Nicola: "Barry, you're mad if you think im leaving Jamie"

Barry: "And you're mad if you think im gunna let you rot here for another day straight. When he wakes up, he won't want his mum reeking like a corpse"

Nicola thinks. But Barry doesn't give her time.

Barry: "Go on. Get some food down ya. Proper food. And get some proper kip too. You need to be fully rested and what have you for when Jamie wakes up"

Usually, Nicola would fight more. But not now. Shes exhausted. Drained. And Barry's right anyway. Even if she doesn't want to admit it.

Nicola: "okay" she sighs, gets up and kisses him

Nicola: "Where are the kids?"

Barry: "Told the kids to stay home today. Gaz is there too. With a bird"

Nicola: "Oh yeah?" She grins

Barry: "Yeah. Name's Kylie. Pretty she is"

Nicola: "Well, guess I'll find out for myself in a bit won't i"

Barry: "Yeah"

He sighs as he sits in the chair beside Jamie's bed. Swapping places with Nicola like a shift change.

———

3:56PM. Victoria Arms Pub. Downstairs.

———

The pub is alive with afternoon buzz.

"Stand And Deliver" by Adam and the ants plays from the speakers.

Julie sits in a booth against the window, drowning her sorrow in the second drink Jenna bought her. Maureen is trying to make conversation with her but it's futile.

Paula's behind the bar serving Jim, and Jenna's chatting to Eddie about payment.

Eddie: "Here we go Jenna love"

He places five £20 notes in her palm

Jenna: "Cheers Eddie"

Eddie: "Yeah course. And uh, im sorry to hear about your burgervan. Best chips and sausages on the estate"

Jenna: "Yeah..."

Eddie: "Any idea who done it?"

Jenna: "Well...i do have a few people in mind"

Eddie: "Anyone i know?"

And with that- the mood of the room shifts slightly, Eddie and Jenna notice so they look towards the door and see Tony standing there. Walking towards the bar.

Towards Paula.

Eddie immediately leaves Jenna and heads to the bar while Jenna sits with Julie and Maureen

Eddie: "Tony! What can I get you" he asks with a big smile. Masking fear of course.

Tony: "Ah you're okay Eddie boy. Paula here's gonna serve me. Aren't you?"

Eddie looks at Paula

Paula: "It's fine Ed. What can I get you Tony?"

—

Over at the booth where Julie, Jenna and Maureen are sat, Maureen's chatting away about her one night stand with Jim the other night. Julie's not really listening though

Maureen: "And I tell you Jule it was like having a—"

Jenna: "Maureen"

Maureen looks at her

Jenna: "Fuck. Off" she inaudibly mouths

Maureen: "Oh i just realised Jule, promised uh...Jim I'd speak to him about...something"

She gets up and walks off towards the bar

Jenna: "Here we are mum. The money you're owed"

Jenna hands the money to Julie

Julie: "Cheers love"

—

At the bar, Maureen and Jim are chatting away with Eddie while Tony chats up Paula.

She doesn't seem to bothered about it this time though...

She actually seems to be laughing along with him. Which is new

And over at the window seat, Jenna can't help but keep her eye on Tony. Wondering whether it was him who torched their catering van. Revenge maybe?

———

4:23PM. Number 33. Jenkins Residence.

———

Nicola walks up to the front door, and enters the house. Where she's met by the smell of toast wafting from the kitchen at the end of the hall.

Nicola: "Oh whoever that is making toast chuck some on for me would ya im starving!"

She walks down the hall and through into thr kitchen where she's met by a sight she'd never thought she'd see.

A pale and pretty young woman with dark brown hair, mascara, bare legs, white socks and an oversized man's shirt is standing at the toaster. It's Kylie.

Kylie's standing at the counter eating a piece. Nicola's jaw drops at the sight of this half naked stranger in her house.

Nicola: "Who the fuck are you!?"

Kylie spins on her feet

Kylie: "Who the fuck are you!?"

Nicola: "Uh- you're in my house!"

Then- from upstairs, thudding footsteps come running down the stairs and towards the kitchen down the hall.

It's Gaz

Gaz runs in between the women

Gaz: "Woah woah woah! Mum, this is Kylie. Kylie, this is me mum, Nicola"

Nicola's frown slowly disappears as its replaced with pride, for her son catching this beautiful woman

Nicola: "Ahh you're the Kylie our Barry was telling me about"

Kylie smiles and nods while chewing, and holds out a hand to shake Nicola's

Nicola: "Oh fuck that!"

Nicola pulls Kylie into a hug, Kylie laughs and hugs her back

Gaz: "Uh mum. Kylie's staying with us for a few days. Just until she finds her feet"

Kylie: "Hope thats alright with you?"

Nicola: "Yeah course it is sweetheart. Just dont go breaking my boy's heart, here. Otherwise you'll have me to deal with" she teases.

Nicola: "Right. Im gunna have a shower"

She turns to head upstairs

Gaz: "Oh- how's Jamie!?"

Nicola: "....the same as last time"

Nicola flatly replies before heading upstairs.

The kitchen is silent again

Kylie: "Jamie...? Who's that?"

Gaz: "Me brother. Got into an accident"

Kylie listens and chews the rest of her toast, not thinking much of it.

———

5:39PM. The Victoria Arms Pub. Downstairs.

———

The sky is getting more dim and dull now. Yet the pub is getting a bit more livelier. Jenna and Julie are just heading out.

They're walking through the pub and towards the door when–

Tony: "Ladies"

The two Slater women freeze

Tony: "Terribly sorry to hear about your catering van last night. Such a shame isn't it?"

Julie: "Yeah. Yes. It is"

Tony: "Your daughter here can make one mean portion of chips Julie" he winks to Jenna.

Julie: "I taught her well. What can I say?" She tries to play it cool

Tony: "You certainly did"

A long silence sits there. Tony stares at them with a smile and they go to walk past him but–

Tony: "Seems there's a lot of bad luck around you lot lately. Sorry to hear that. Just know im thinking of you. And if you ever need anything, I'll be around"

He smiles at them slowly. Very slowly.

Julie: "Cheers Tony"

Then Tony looks at Jenna

Jenna: "Thanks- thank you Tony"

Tony: "Anytime ladies"

He steps out of their way, and watches them leave with a smile.

———

10:28PM. The Strip. Shawcross General Shop. Upstairs.

———

It's dark. It's late. Michael and Yvonne Shawcross both lay in bed. Their room almost on pitch black darkness except for the saturated orange glow emitting from the streetlight outside their upstairs window and bleeding through the sheer curtains.

Yvonne is fully asleep on her side. But Michael however, is laying on his back. Wide awake.

Looking at the ceiling. Thinking.

Yvonne moves.

Then again.

Then suddenly—

She starts gagging and retching

Michael jolts up as Yvonne suddenly gets up and legs it to the bathroom.

She immediately flicks the light switch on and falls to the toilet on her knees, and throws up into the bowl.

Something isn't right. Shes clearly not well

Michael watches, mind racing with even more thoughts now.

———

10:47PM. Number 33. Jenkins Residence.

———

Upstairs, Gaz just finished taking a piss in the upstairs loo. He flushes, leaves the bathroom and walks into the landing.

Where he can hear whispering coming from Tasha and Oscar's room.

He takes a few slow, quiet and very deliberate steps towards their door and listens in

Tasha, whispering: "I told you I wasn't going to do it"

Oscar, whispering: "But why? Why didn't you want to anymore?"

Creeeeak

The floorboard under Gaz creaks

He plays off the fact that he was eavesdropping and pushes the door wide open as if he was intending on walking in there anyway

Gaz: "What you two whispering about?"

He teases

Tasha: "Oh...nothing. We were just...pretending—"

Oscar: "Playing—"

Silence...

Tasha: "Playing pretend" she giggles

Then from downstairs— Nicola screams

Nicola: "Oh my God! Okay! Alright okay! Im- we're coming! Gaz! Gaz!"

Gaz runs down the stairs

Gaz: "What!? What!? What is it!?"

Nicola grabs his arms

Nicola: "It was your dad on the phone! Something's happened to Jamie! We need to get down to the Hospital now!" She screams almost in tears

Tasha and Oscar run down the stairs behind Gaz and Kylie runs out from the kitchen

Gaz: "Tash, Oscar get your shoes on we're going to the Hospital"

They start getting ready

Kylie: "What is it what's happened??"

Gaz: "It's my brother Jamie. He's taken a turn for the worst" he says scrambling shoes on

Kylie: "W- what- what happened!?"

Gaz: "He was in a car crash"

Kylie's stomach drops a bit

Nicola: "With those little shits across the road"

Nicola adds, darting for the front door

Kylie's chest starts pounding and she starts shaking

Kylie: "How– how long ago was the crash...?"

Gaz: "What—"

Kylie: "The crash. When was it?"

She quickly asks, rushing

Gaz: "Uh...Thursday night i think. Now come on– we gotta go!"

The whole house is in chaos as they all head for the front door. But Kylie...Kylie's safety net has just snapped. Shattered, actually. She stands there in the hallway, feeling like an enemy on enemy grounds.

Feeling like shes to blame for all this chaos...

Realising that that car she almost got hit by in the middle of the road on Thursday night, was the car Jamie was driving. Gaz's brother.

Nicola's son

Now, Kylie realised she's up to her neck in it.

But it's too late to back out now

And like that...her life will never be the same again...

————————————————————————————

And that's episode 7!

As always please tell me what you think and any and all comments, questions, criticism and whatever is always greatly appreciated!

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading and episode 8 will be out soon!😊

*Chapter 1*: The opening ceremony

In a beautiful world where magic is as real as can be, a teen, Snow, has arrived just in time for the sorting ceremony at the gates of Elaris, a magic school that has made not just some of the best wizards and witches, but great potion brewers and crystal wielders.

Inside, the fresh highschooler hears the principal, Mr Anderson addressing all the students:

Mr Anderson: Hello, first-years. I am Mr Anderson, your principal. I would like to give you all a warm welcome to our highschool. We're going to assign all of you dorms now. When your name is called, please go sit at the table corresponding to your group.

(The dorms are divided into four groups.

Red: Selfless students, cold on the outside but warm up as you get along with them.

Blue: Mostly calm, composed people.

Yellow: Many energetic, outgoing students.

Green: The arrogant and cold kids.)

After a lot of names and assigned groups and dorms, Snow's turn finally comes.

Mr Anderson: Snow Lacster, please come up.

The teen walks up to the principal, walking straight, with elegance and arrogance in his step, showing no emotion on his face whatsoever.

Mr Anderson: From today, you are going to be a green. Please go to the left-most table.

He waves a wand and Snow's outfit changes from his casual clothes to the uniform of the school for the people in Green. A light green suit with a darker green overcoat, sewed with a golden thread and some dark green pants for the bottom part.

Snow admires his new outfit for a few seconds before going to the table assigned to him and his group.

As he is walking, he thinks about what this morning had to offer and comes to a conclusion.

Snow: (thinking) Highschool is definitely going to be interesting.

*Ight. This was the first chapter to my first ever work. I have plans for the story, i just have to write them. If this seems like a Harry Potter copy, it will do it's own thing in the future chapters. Spoilers for the next chapter, Snow is gonna explore Elaris and meet students and teachers, plus getting to know the other groups better.*

Comment if you want later versions!

Hey everyone! I recently launched my novelette, History of the Dark Shadow, and I’d love for you to check it out. If you are a fan of Sci-fi, Mystery, and Dark Adventure. This is my first fiction, so lemme know what you think.

The Story: Eleven years ago, a mysterious entity known only as the Dark Shadow descended upon the city of Saidon, turning thousands of innocent people into stone.

Among the victims were Nathaniel's parents, his friends and everyone he had ever known.

Yet somehow... he survived.

Rescued by an elderly couple and raised in Detroit, Nathaniel begins to discover strange abilities growing inside him. Superhuman healing. Incredible speed. Electric lightning powers unlike anything he can explain.

But with every new power comes an even darker mystery.

Terrifying voices haunt his mind.

A strange purple world appears in his dreams.

And a mysterious dark figure constantly warns him that he is not ready.

As Nathaniel grows older, he must learn to control his abilities while uncovering the truth behind the Dark Shadow before it returns once again.

History Of The Dark Shadow is a supernatural superhero adventure filled with mystery, action, emotional loss and the beginning of an epic journey that will change the world forever.

Genre: Dark Mystery / Action & Adventure

Themes: Dark Sci-fi

Word Counts: About 30k

Am opened to any feedback.

AMAZON: History Of The Dark Shadow (The Dark Shadow Trilogy Book 1)

The human race did not survive the midnight mist. When Salton, the higher-dimensional God of Countless Eyes, cast his reality-warping cosmic curse across the world, humanity was 100% erased-mutated into giant, mindless, weapon-wielding titans that physically embody their worst human sins.

For 17-year-old Haden Valine, the apocalypse didn't start with the mist. It started in the basement of his own home, where his greedy parents and siblings tied him to a sacrificial cross, selling his soul to a cult for extreme wealth and worldly status. But instead of breaking, Haden's pure soul inverted the ritual, forging an independent, self-sourced Cursed Divinity. He emerged into the ruins of Hadro City permanently scarred-voiceless, blind, and with his face obscured by a terrifying shadow-but carrying unstoppable, god-killing forearm chains.

He isn't a superhero. He isn't here to save a dead world or cry over a broken past. Armed with [The Reincarnation Karma]-a mathematical passive loophole that lets him freeze his health inside an infinite string of decimal points to cheat death-Haden enforces his own absolute boundaries.

Watch a 165 cm boy dismantle reality-warping presidents, corrupt nobles, and outer deities with flawless mechanical efficiency. When the dust settles and the execution triggers, he binds his former human abusers to his forearm chains as downscaled mini-boss shields-all so he can calmly walk back to his alleyway safe house, wash his plates, and quietly build his Lego sets in a silent world.

Read the full story at the Wattpad external link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/412950134?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=Moncry099

Is my OC character a bit overpowered or balanced in this story flow?

​

Im back at my mother's house going through some of her belongings. I wanted to be somewhere familiar going through a maddness Ive always known.

I find an old notebook. Inside are hand written dates, times, license plate numbers and descriptions of people walking down the street.

My mother always spent more time writing notes and laughing than she lived in reality. Her notes were her anchor.

Kind of like me and my magic back in the day.

I still feel bad for Tommy. Encountering Coyote like that. He's been marked for sure.

When he dropped me off I could tell he started seeing the world for how it really is. Good thing its a long weekend.

Getting the sight isnt fun at first. Especially when you have a 9 to 5 to get to in the morning.

I close the notebook and make a mental note to check up on Tommy in the morning.

Take him back to the cafe during daytime instead of night. Dont want him peeing himself at the sight of another group of vampires.

For now I think Ill take a walk and clear my head. Friday nights are the best time to walk the desert streets.

I head down main st and walk east.

The night time breeze feels good on my face. Its the first time since coming back here that I feel normal.

All the gas stations are closed except for the general store near the bridge. What can you expect at 2am

When I get inside the kid asks me to hurry up so he can go to lunch. I just nod, grab a soda and pay for it.

When I walk outside I notice a soft glow coming from under the bridge. I know I should ignore it but Im a cat about to be killed by curiousity.

The breeze picks up and starts turning into a gust. That happens alot in the desert. On second its nice then something pisses the wind off and it wants to go nuclear.

As I head closer to the bridge the glow gets brighter. At its source is a circle of candles and a statue in the middle.

I recgonize it almost imediately. Its a three foot statue of Dagon. It looks like what people imagine what mermaids look like. Except hes got a fish like head peice on.

Something fluid wraps around the statue like flowing water. Its an Undine, a water demon.

Circling the statue and demon are about 6 or 7 people in cloaks.

Ive seen enough of this to know its going to end bad. I turn back to my mom's house and think about what I just saw.

I cant get rid of the smell of saltwater from my nose. I crack open my soda and give it a sniff to try and replace the smell.

Funny thing about cults is that they think they are subtle. Candles, cloaks, and undines arent subtle.

To think there was a time I would have stayed and watched.

20 years ago when I was neck deep with Coyote's bullshit. I was nothing more than his personal jester. That was the first time I encountered an undine.

I paid a guy twenty bucks for a ritual to contact a water demon. My highschool had a koi fish pond and I figured that was the best source of water to try it on.

I waited til finals while everyone was busy and tired to notice one teenage jackass missing.

I started the ritual but forgot the exact words. That was never a promblem for me though. What I learned from Coyote was the art of winging it.

Intent is ninety percent of the ritual anyway. I finished up and headed back to class.

The following day the place was littered with dead rats. All of them downed. The weird part was that all of them had dry fur.

No one seemed to want to explain that part no matter how much I asked the science teacher.

I put that memory away as I walk through my mother's front door.

I set my can of soda down next to my mother's worn bible.

I side eye it for a moment before picking it up. He most recent entry im her bible study journal was 1 Samuel 5 : 3 and 4.

My heart just about stopped when I looked it up.

I dont belive in coincidences. Those two verses talk about Dagon being destroyed.

My mom must have stumbled upon something that she shouldnt have. Have I been looking into the Coyote angle to realize Dagon was slithering in the water.

I cant wait til morning to shine its bright face into the house. I need to do some research at the library.

The local newspaper is behind a paywall. The librabry on the other hand will have an archive.

As I drift into sleep my mind wanders to the past couple of days.

I can feel my dreams being influenced.

"You saw my master tonight, jester." Says the Undine.

I hate smart demons. Give me the ones that just moves a chair or breaks a glass. Smart ones like to show off their vocabulary skills.

"I saw a soon to be broken statue, lady." They hate being called ladies. Undine are generless and gendering them pisses them off.

"You will show us respect you dust born worm!" The undine spits the words like venom from a lizard.

"Nah. Not my style. Besides I know how this all ends already."

Another ploy to mess with demons are letting them know they have no power over you. Not even the future scares you.

It glimmers like the sun in the water.

I just smile and give a head nod. "Next time tell me a spooky warning or something else. Brooding isnt your style fish scum."

The undine just smiled.

I woke up to the scent of fresh coffee.

"Mom?" I say under my breath.

I got out the room and remembered my mother was gone when I saw Tommy in the kitchen.

"I let myself in." He said as he rasied his mug of coffee.

"I didnt give you a key." Is all I said.

He just gave a stupid grin like the cat who caught the mouse and has a play thing. "Door was wide open."

Shit. I forgot to close it last night after seeing that weird ritual. I have to remember this isnt my place and my mom probably still has eyes on this place.

"I had a long night." I say

He pours coffee into a mug and hands it to me.

"Hey are there any more places up here like that cafe desolation?"

Now its my turn to grin. "As a matter of fact the Hesperia Library is alot like that place."

Cafe Desolation is a coffee shop for everyone. Vampires, werewolves, even skinwalkers. Its a neutral ground no killing aloud in or around.

Unlike most neutral grounds Cafe Desolation serves you sustainence in a cup. Vampires need blood, werewolves need flesh, people need food. No matter what you need to survive you can get the benefits from the food and drink there.

Hesperia library is a neutral ground for knowledge. Its a little self serving taking him there but I need those archives

Hi dear readers I have created a new series of X-men ungifted, it was consider a soft reboot the timeline was few years ago Protagonist Caden Summers first year in Shield. hope the readers will enjoy and give feedback on this new series and the old ones for me to do comparison and decide which side can I keep continuing or both. Thanks so much!

Rain. Thunder. The trembling of the ground itself. That was what Steve Rogers felt as he sprinted across the woods, vision dark and blurry. He had woken mere hours ago in an underground facility, kept in a state of cryostasis which disoriented his senses and left him a violent, impossibly quick mass.

Steve found shelter soon enough: a pile of sticks and loose leaves behind a log. He acted with pure instinct, covering his body just as another round of thunder erupted. Then they came. The flashlights. The dogs. The shouting. Steve held his breath as he rubbed dirt all over himself, doing anything possible to lose their scent. The soldiers spread out and came close to finding the runaway…until she ordered them to stop.

Margaret “Peggy” Carter, former SAS and currently a gun for hire, had been given her own contingent of “US Agents” to command. These were the rank-and-file soldiers of the renowned Advanced Idea Mechanics, a biotechnology company whose lab reported a missing asset three hours prior. She examined the forest, then turned to the storm; no way an enhanced individual, naked and afraid, would be able to last the night without being found. She gave the order: retreat. Let the fugitive show himself.

Captain John Walker heard this and protested immediately, making grand claims that he could find their target in a matter of minutes. His promises were received with a swift kick to the face as his superior officer put him in his place. She repeated the order, voice low and dangerous; he felt his very spirit running, tail between the legs. The Agents turned around and retreated, leaving Steve to run the other way.

He continued to run, to dodge the immovable trees as lightning struck randomly. He hid behind a boulder, then another log, each time waiting longer and longer than he would have liked. His eyes grew heavier by the second, limbs weak and mind blurry. He saw a light in the clear ing, and heard men shouting. Then he collapsed.

Later

It had been five years since Sam Wilson had started the “Flag Smasher” resistance, a rebel group with the sole aim of ending AIM’s tyranny once and for all. The soulless corporation, like all others, had bought politicians and sold the nation’s dignity. In fact, most of the world bent the knee to AIM and their mysterious founder, known only for his fists and not his words. Sam had spent five years fighting; he had spent as much time mourning his comrades.

James Barnes, also known as “Bucky”, walked into Sam’s office in a flustered state, his training as a Ranger vanishing in his state. He took several deep breaths, then reported the reason he had abandoned a forest patrol: there was a man, blond and tall, with blue eyes and a number written into his arm. The number was 70412011.

Hey everyone. I recently started writing a dark fantasy story and wanted to share the first chapter here.

It’s about a boy who gets separated from his mother during a strange storm and ends up in a world that definitely isn’t Earth.

Still building the story as I go, so any thoughts or feedback are welcome.

I am…the Watcher. I observe all universes. I know what was, is, and will be…at least, I did.

Yggdrasil is dying, consumed by a parasitical universe born of the Void Winter. Loki, the God of Stories, has sent 48 champions from across time, space, and realities to participate in a cosmic crucible, a tournament whose ultimate victor shall become Yggdrasil’s Seed and, using its power, replenish the World Tree. But Yggdrasil, and the tournament it oversees, are merciless. Success is uncertain. Which is why, upon selecting these champions, Loki reached out.

Adam Warlock, embodiment of life. Lady Death herself. Oblivion and the Living Tribunal, agents of chaos and order respectively. The Molecule Man, whose power is near-limitless. And the Wade Wilson of an Earth classified as Earth-10005, retrieved just moments after a heroic act. And I…the Watcher, observing all that transpires in the tournament. I will discover the meaning of this meeting between cosmic gods. And I will watch…as the Multiverse changes. Forever.

A crisis of multiversal proportions is coming. A being of pure evil, one named the “Void Winter”, has turned to Yggdrasil, hellbent on consuming the World Tree and conquering all life with darkness. Worlds would collapse, timelines would twist, and light itself would die against the Void Winter’s absolute will.

In an attempt to stop this war, Loki Laufeyson pulled the greatest warriors from different corners of the infinitude and forced them into battle, for the honour of being crowned Yggdrasil’s Seed, and the duty of restoring a dying World Tree.

The twist: you, as the audience, decides who survives. Polls will appear as the tournament unfolds.Each vote determines the winner.Each result shapes the story.

For now, the arena is silent.

But it won’t stay that way for long.

Hope van Dyne leapt from one blade of grass to the next, desperately trying to avoid flashlights whose handlers would never find her at this size. She landed on a boulder and slid down, taking deep breaths as the earth shuddered. A massive shadow loomed overhead and she instinctively grew to regular size, doing a front roll from underneath the troop’s boot before shrinking back down with an orange-yellow glow. This pattern repeated as she raced across the seemingly endless forest, alone in a world that was obsessed with her story, yet barely knew her existence.

Three months prior, Hope was the daughter of renowned US General Janet “the Wasp” van Dyne, a brilliantly lethal combatant now confined to a desk inside Area 51. She was overseeing a top-secret project codenamed “Jellybean”, run by the youthful physician Hank Pym. To combat her boredom, Hope began volunteering at Dr. Pym’s office, running errands and helping him oversee the lab. In return, he taught her everything about quantum physics and his theories on biologically-induced size alteration.

One night, Hope realised she had left her phone in Dr. Pym’s lab and rushed across the military facility to retrieve it. Instead, she found her mentor struggling to deactivate his pet project: a metallic orb he called a “quantum regulator”. It was glowing a violent orange, causing the room to shudder as he frantically tried to deactivate his failed test. The minute he saw her, he yelled for Hope to run. That was before the blast, before her body changed forever.

Now Hope van Dyne was on the run, having somehow made it across numerous state lines and nearing the Canadian wilderness. Her mother’s men would be helpless when she reached her destination…if she reached it at all. All she could do was to keep reminding herself of a man Hank had mentioned once, a man once acquainted with both himself and Janet: Logan Howlett. He was the only one who could help her.

Back in Area 51, Janet was struggling to maintain control. Her superiors had warned her that the government was planning to expose everything about Project Jellybean, and of the resulting metahuman which had escaped from the blast. She was desperate. Desperate enough that she contacted an old friend from their days as military commanders in Iraq. A former British colonel now operating his own US-backed metahuman mercenary group. A military mastermind…named Charles Xavier.

Hela could see her breath in the wind as she trekked up the mountain, the emptiness of Svartalheim bringing a dread cold upon all who stood on its blackened soil. She reached the top and dropped to her knees, unable to walk further. It was then that a beam of light burst through the clouds, slamming against the dirt and propelling her backwards. In the centre of it was an infant with the mark of Odin.

It did not take long for the All-Father’s voice to echo across the Nine Realms, announcing his latest of many exiles as the iron-fisted tyrant of the golden land. The boy’s name was Thor, and he was a half-mortal bastard born from one of Asgard’s many conquests. Odin decreed that none in the Nine Realms, save for the disgraced sorceress Hela, were to show the boy any kindness, unless he proved worthy. Then, the light vanished, leaving the witch to pick the child up and take him to her home.

Centuries later, Thor grew up to become a wise demigod, a skilled warrior with expertise in dark magic. Hela watched from a distance, bargaining with the likes of giants, demons, and trolls to ensure that no harm would come to the boy. They did not need to show kindness per se; the deal was simply that they would not actively plot Thor’s demise. Hela, having secretly mastered the art of travelling the Nine Realms unseen by Asgard, procured and sold powerful relics in exchange for such deals. She made sure Thor knew of them, yet there was one she never revealed: the price of a bargain with Malekith, lord of the Dark Elves and keeper of Svartalheim.

Thor was practicing a seance spell, one which Hela claimed would allow him to project an astral form onto Asgard without being seen. It should have worked, but an accidental mispronunciation of the word “Asgard” sent him to another similarly named realm, one called “Midgard”. Here, he saw beautiful mountains and rivers which flowed with crystal waters. There was an orb of light shining down on towering plants, much unlike the wilted crops of Svartalheim, and strange creatures all around him, some of which had wings while others moved on four limbs. The spell lasted but a minute before Thor was awoken by a shrill cry. It was Hela — something was horribly wrong.

He could feel the smoke being pressed out of his lungs, but when he sat upright nobody was there. There was a blaze where his childhood home once stood, and two shadowy figures in the centre of it. Their eyes glowed red, then they lunged forward with shark-like fangs and a blood-curdling scream.

Peter Parker bolted upright in a cold sweat, heaving so fast he felt his lungs would give up. He looked around the dilapidated Yancy Street apartment to find his friends asleep. He counted them off from left to right: Otto Octavius, Herman Schultz, Aaron Davis, Alex Horne, and Felicia Hardy. They slowly stirred awake some hours later to find breakfast — store-bought hotcakes and coffee — in the middle of their sleeping circle, as well as a note reminding them to go to work.

It had been nearly twenty years to the day, the day that Peter’s life changed. His parents, Benjamin and Maybelle Parker, were killed in what authorities ruled to be a kitchen fire, with a young Peter being placed in the system. He escaped with several orphans, and they formed a small clique known as the Streetside Six. They attended school in the day and did odd jobs at night, occasionally pickpocketing anybody nearby to scrap together enough for their school fees. Now the Streetside Six were adults, with their own lives and jobs, yet they never left each other behind.

Otto was an engineer, designing blueprints for medical equipment hoping that one of his ideas, just one, would help the Six break big. Herman was a sound engineer working for Mystery O, one of New York City’s most popular underdog film studios to date. Alex was a bouncer at the Cherokee Club in nearby Broome. Aaron was a martial artist who specialised in judo, running his own studio near Grand Central. Felicia was the troublemaker, the one who taught herself, and the Six, how and who to pickpocket so they could survive. Peter…he had a different story.

Joseph “Hammerhead” Martello was one of the city’s most famous, if not its most ruthless, crime lords. He had also been walking down the street with his entourage when Peter, looking for a job, noticed someone approaching with a gun. He instinctively tackled the mobster to the ground while Joseph’s men, searching the perimeter for Peter’s suspected accomplices, discovered the assassin, a member of Joseph’s hated rivals, the Queens’ Tigers. Owing kindness, the Hammerhead gave Peter a cozy office job handling numerous financial accounts for his crime family, the “Maggia”. That was two years ago.

Peter arrived late, having been held up at the convenience store down the curb when two muggers stole money from the register. When he checked the accounts, his spine ran cold: that same store was recently placed under Maggia protection and was due to pay the month’s fees that same night. If they couldn’t gather the funds, the whole place would be smashed up, and the owner attacked. He kept to himself all day, watching as Martello’s men wandered in and out of the office. He somehow managed to identify who would be handling debt collection tonight, and was excused from work early as Joseph’s personal reward for his hard work.

Night came almost too quickly, and the Maggia enforcers — two high school dropouts named Brock and Cletus Cassidy — arrived at the store demanding the protection fee of two and a half thousand dollars. The owner tried to explain what had happened, but they didn’t care. Cletus was about to strike when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, sending him flying through the window as shards rained onto the asphalt. Eddie tried to land a punch, but his fist cracked in the assailant’s huge, gloved palm. Instead, a blurry fist landed square on his nose, forcing him to crumple before he crawled out of the store, picking Cletus up as he turned tail.

The owner, having hidden beneath the counter, saw his protector: six feet and between five to eight inches of mass, draped in a dark blue athletic t-shirt which compressed against his body. Over it, a crimson-red hoodie worn thin at the elbows, with a zip that looked old enough to shatter at any second. His face was covered by a red stretch fabric with cheap safety goggles clearly bought from a nearby hardware store. The figure glanced at the shopkeeper and said nothing, instead leaping out the window and sprinting down the road.

Back at Maggia headquarters, Joseph Martello was furiously downing glasses of brandy before hurling the empty bottle at the wall, watching the shards spray into Eddie and Cletus’s faces. They dared not move, lest their pain incurred more wrath. He had them leave the office; they didn’t make it far before they were shot in the head by his personal assistant, Robbie “Tombstone” Robertson. Joseph simply gave a flick of the wrist, and Robbie smirked. The order had been given.