K T Bowes - The Troubled Collection

The Troubled Series

by

K T Bowes

Book 1

Troubled Series

K T Bowes

Copyright K T Bowes 2013

Published by Hakarimata Press

From the Author

Some of these characters have a sense of being real because I grew up with them, but they are fictional. Repeated a million times over in life, they would never recognise themselves, anyway; nobody believes themselves to be that wicked. There is no specific person who could say thats me, because Ive merged all the worst character traits of the most awful people I came across in my torturous journey through school. You know these people. I imagine you already naming them in your head. You may sit in a classroom with someone whose circumstances are just like Danes without even realising it.

The scars are not always on the outside.

I write about the places I know and so they exist, but perhaps with different names and geographical features. But its worth remembering that this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Additional note from the author

When I wrote this novel almost a decade ago, there were no schools on that side of the river further north than Hukanui Road. Since then, the education ministry have built numerous primary schools and a high school. The high school is in the exact location where I imagined the school in this series to exist.

Sometimes fiction becomes the reality.

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Acknowledgement

This book is dedicated to my Sophia, who inspires me.

Chapter One

I do understand, Sophia , but I cant help you. Its against the rules to discuss another patients medical records. Unless theres something else I can do for you, our consultation is over.

The girl continued to sit in the red plastic chair, a look of determination etched into her dark features. Shaped as though crafted by someone with a love of fine china, her eyes were dark brown and rimmed with long lashes. The flared irises looked as black as coal, flashing with a mixture of anger and despair. The dull, middle aged man opposite her shifted in his chair with discomfort, sweat beading on his forehead. He eyed the girl with concern as her rigid hands plucked at the tartan fabric of her school skirt. What about your health, Sophia? Is there something I can help you with?

She shook her head and brushed away threatening tears with the back of her hand. She uncrossed her legs and the doctor spied a ladder in her navy school tights. It ran from a nick near the ankle. He pulled his gaze away, wary of showing too much interest in case she misinterpreted his intentions.

Goodbye, Sophia. Im sorry I couldnt help you. The doctor shook her hand and closed the door behind her, relieved at having despatched her without hysterics. He turned to his computer, intending to log his concerns on Sophia Armitages medical notes, but the telephone trilled from the desk and drove the young girls plight clean from his mind.

Sophia blundered into the corridor and hurried towards the green exit sign. She kept her head down and her fringe cloaking her face like so many teenagers in hiding. She prayed nobody in the busy waiting room noticed her sparkling, tear-filled eyes as she struggled to suppress the agony building in her chest. Her stomach ached as fear chased her appetite away and she rubbed a hand over her ribs. A girl from her school read a magazine near the nurses room and glanced up as Sophia passed. Glancing with interest at the way Sophias hand pressed over her stomach, a smirk lit her lips. Sophia withdrew her fingers and lifted her school bag like a shield of protection. The last thing she needed was a rumour of pregnancy to rip through the school.

Focussing on the green exit sign, Sophia picked up her pace. Shed used her dwindling cash to pay for the doctors visit and would need to wait for the cheaper bus due in ten minutes. Or walk home.

Watch out! Strong fingers caught her upper arms as Sophia barrelled straight into someone. Her nose bumped a solid chest and the wind exited her lungs in a gasp of pain. The scent of cigarettes and chewing gum rose in a haze around her face. The heavy school bag swung from her shoulder and pitched them both sideways.

Sorry, she gasped from beneath the safe harbour of her fringe.

Cant you see? Olive fingers brushed her hair back from her forehead and exposed her to a scrutiny she didnt want. The other hand remained clutching her arm.

I can see just fine! Sophia shook her head and the dark curls tumbled behind her shoulder, but not before she recognised the scuffed shoes of her rescuer. Oh, no! she hissed beneath her breath. A shiver of fear ran up her spine and stole her next sentence. She stared at the familiar, ragged, leather shoes, the ripped laces tied in a haze of frayed material. The company the shoes kept could prove lethal.