The Truth About Errica Thomas and other tales

All it takes is one little note, crumpled and torn, pushed through the letterbox, to ruin a life. All it takes is eight little words to make you doubt everything you ever knew and everything you planned to be. "You aren't who your parents say you are."

[thetruthabouterrica-blog]

Side Story: Feuds

Cara stared up at the ceiling and listened to the clock in the corner of her room ticking. Tick, tock, tick, tock. It was 3 am. And she was still awake. All because of that bloody bird.

10 - 20 minutes earlier, a bird had flown into her window and woken her up. The poor bird died upon impact and had been dragged away by a cat into the darkness to be eaten. She'd spent at least 5 minutes watching the cat struggle to drag its new toy after it, before she shut the curtains and tried to go back to sleep. But here she was, unable to return to sleep. "It's going to be a long night." She grumbled to herself, sitting up and beginning to stare at the well

--

By the time it got to 8 am, Cara was still sat on her bed and staring at the wall. She'd simply stayed awake and stared at the wall and the ceiling at alternating intervals throughout the night, hoping that she would fall asleep eventually, but unfortunately, sleep never came. Cara could hear her mother's footsteps coming down the hall. She then knocked twice on the door and opened it. Her mother hadn't expected to see her daughter awake already, much less staring at the door. The surprise almost made her fall, but she quickly regained her calm. "Good morning, dear." She smiled, studying her daughter and trying to find out why she was awake already so early.

"Bad morning, Mum." She replied sarcastically, falling backwards onto her bed. "I'm not going to school today." Cara stated.

Her mother frowned lightly and walked over to her daughter's bed, sitting down and staring curiously at Cara. "Why not?" She asked.

"I've been awake all night. I woke up at 3 am because some bloody bird crashed into my window." She grumbled, sitting up once more. Cara often became gruff or sarcastic when she was tired. "Look at how bloodshot my eyes are, Mum." She held open her eyelids and sat closer to her mum. 

"Yes, yes, alright, I believe you. No need to freak me out." She muttered, flapping her hands and standing up. "You can stay home. But just for today, Cara. But tonight, you're going to bed earlier." Her mother warned, walking out of the room and going to get ready for work.

--

She stayed in bed for the rest of the morning and the first half of the afternoon. It was only when the clock struck 3 pm that Cara decided to finally get out of bed and get something to eat. She walked into the kitchen and spun round, looking at all the food she had to choose from. There wasn't much. Eventually, she filled the kettle and simply made a cup of tea. How typically British of me. 

After she'd made the cup of tea, Cara began to wander around the house, looking at it as though she was a stranger. The paint on the skirting boards was chipping off, and the wall paint didn't look as bright as it had when they'd moved in the house. It was funny. She could still remember it..

Cara sat down in the middle of her bedroom floor with her cup of tea, looking around and slowly sipping. As she shifted to place her tea down on her bedside table, she felt something shift underneath the rug she had on her floor. She frowned and slowly stood up, walking off the rug then kicking it away. The only thing underneath it was the the floor. She slowly sat down on the ground and tilted her head to the side after she realised that one of the floorboards was loose. 

Cara frowned and slowly began to attempt to lift the floorboard. It took a lot of effort, but eventually she managed it. She clasped a hand to her mouth as memories of her youth came back. Some of her toys were down there. As well as.. a photo. A photo of her and Errica. She reached an arm down and pulled it up, blowing dust of it then staring at the photo. She and Errica hadn't had a decent conversation in a while. Cara turned over the photo and sighed as she read the messy writing on the back. 

"Best friends forever" it read. That hadn't gone so well.

What was it they'd gotten into an argument about in the first place, after all? Cara couldn't quite remember. It had been two years since they'd argued, and the only conversation they'd had since then was bitter insults and sarcastic compliments. She sighed and let the photo drop back into its little time capsule, landing among the toys. She slowly placed the floorboard back over it and walked across the room to her rug, putting it back in its usual place, then walking over to her school bag to grab her phone. She switched it on and waited for it to load impatiently, quickly going into contacts and scrolling through until she came to the name she was looking for. "Errica the Bitch." She read aloud, groaning and quickly editing it. She couldn't even remember what the argument was about. Only that it had been the basis of her friendship with Emilia.

She then thought over something to say, before eventually simply writing "Hi", and sending it. And now, all she could do was wait.

[thetruthabouterrica-blog]

2: Birthdays

The next morning, my parents called me down a lot earlier than usual. I figured it was for birthday celebrations and such before school, and I expected to see my brother there too. But it was just my parents in the kitchen, and they both had a serious look on their faces. The look they had on their faces was one I hadn't seen in a while. It looked like I was about to be told off.

"Mum.. Dad... is something wrong?" She asked, sitting down across from them at the table. Neither of Errica's parents said a word for a while, and simply stared at her, making Errica a little uncomfortable.

"Errica, when your father and I got home from work yesterday--" Her mother had started to say before her father cut her off.

"Did you write the note?" He asked, slamming the note Errica had found the previous night on the table and sliding it towards her. "Do you feel like we aren't your parents, Errica? Is that why you wrote it?" He hadn't even given her a chance to get a word in, currently.

"Dad, dad, calm down. I didn't write that stupid note. You know that. I love you guys!" Errica exclaimed, trying to calm her father down as she pulled the note from under his hand to examine it once more. "It's just someone's sick and twisted idea of a birthday joke that isn't funny." She gritted her teeth as she spoke the last sentence. "I'm going to ask around at school today for the true culprit. It got me quite upset.." She mumbled as she shoved the paper away from her angrily. The force she used to shove it made the note fly up into the air then slowly flutter down onto the table again. It was clear she was just as unhappy about the note as her parents were. 

"It's okay, Errica..." Her mother muttered, the look of seriousness replacing itself with pity and sadness. She got up and walked around the table, pulling Errica into a hug and smiling at her. "Don't worry, sweetie. We just wanted to know if you were unhappy." She reassured her, sitting down in the spare chair next to her daughter and pulling her into a tight hug. "Now we can focus on the birthday celebrations." She grinned, hoping to bring up the enthusiasm of the room. Errica laughed lightly and smiled.

"Alright. I need to go get ready for college first..." She pointed out, pulling at her dressing robe and taking a deep breath as her mother let her go, and Errica quickly fled to her room, getting changed with a dreary sigh. As she walked up the stairs, though, she could hear her parents arguing in hushed whispers. It was to be an ordinary day. She grabbed the homework she'd completed upon arriving home from school yesterday and put it in her bag before thudding down the stairs with the usual sullen expression on her face because she was going to school. As Errica reached the bottom of the stairs and put on a happier expression before walking into the kitchen again. The presents were all neatly piled in the center of the table. She could tell it was her mother's handiwork. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The two of them yelled, though her mother's voice was louder and a bit more shrill than usual. She winced lightly and walked over to them both, hugging them tightly. It looked like the note was now resting at the bottom of the bin. For that, she was glad.

Errica put on a wide smile and turned back to the presents on the table, then down to the watch on her wrist. Somehow, she'd managed to take 20 minutes to get changed. Which meant she had 10 minutes to eat something and get the bus. She squeaked and rushed over to the toaster, grateful to find that her parents had already made her some toast. "Thank you!" She quickly exclaimed, grabbing the toast and running back over to the table. She put down one piece of toast and bit into the other one as she grabbed a small present from the top of the pile. 

It contained a book. The Name of the Star, by Maureen Johnson. She nodded lightly and smiled after she read the blurb, still eating the first piece of toast. "Good choice." She said through a mouthful of toast, putting the book in her bag and picking up the other piece of toast. "I'll open the rest later." She added once she'd swallowed the last mouthful of toast and kissed her mother on the cheek, then her father before running out the door, leaving it open as she ran to the bus stop. It was days like this that she was grateful that the bus stop was so close to her house. She still had three minutes. Errica sat down on the bench and began to eat her other piece of toast as she waited to see which bus would turn up.

[thetruthabouterrica-blog]

Side Story: The Beginning of the End

I first realised that I wasn't the same as the rest of my friends about a year ago, when I was 16. It was difficult. I was about to leave secondary school and I was scared to tell even my parents about the odd visions I'd see. I went from being one of the school's best pupils to one of the worst in about a week. No one knew how I'd managed to fall behind so quickly, but I did. I couldn't remember anything any more. I struggled to concentrate because the visions and the voices were so realistic. I took an hour doing the simplest things that usually took a matter of minutes. If not, seconds. But it wasn't just that, either. I became extremely paranoid too. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was scared of posters.

It was because of that film, Spy Kids. Even though it had been a while since I'd seen the film, I got paranoid because of the tiny little cameras. I believed that you could fit them on eyes of a poster. So going into a cinema for me was a nightmare. I took down all the posters off my wall, and I was always really uncomfortable when I went to my friend's house. There wasn't a single inch of her wall that wasn't covered in some poster for a band, television show, or film. It was a nightmare, sleeping over there. But I think when I had that freak out at school was probably the worst. Because then, I knew that everyone was staring at me. I was sorta hard to miss.

It had happened in the middle of a lesson. The whole class was silent, listening to the teacher drone on about some math terms, but no one was really listening. Half the class were either texting each other or people in other classes. The rest were either looking out the window or staring at the clock with such concentration it almost seemed like they were trying to make  the clock go faster. Hayley was one of the few looking out the window. She was listening, at least, unlike the rest of the class. And she was taking a few messy notes, occasionally, when she heard something complicated. Her notebook today was mostly filled with "research ______", or the occasional sum to make it look like she was actually doing work. It was while she was looking out the window that she saw it.

She'd been watching football team play football. Even though she had no interest in the game (or the players, even), she was bored and couldn't concentrate on the lecture. So watching game would have to do. There was no one else outside. She looked back to the teacher occasionally and nod, as though she was following along and understood. Hayley glanced back out the window and gasped quietly to see that the football was headed straight towards her. She threw herself onto the ground and waited to hear the shattering of the glass, or at least the impact. But there was nothing. Only silence. "Hayley.. are you okay?" She heard the teacher ask her. Hayley slowly sat up.

"But.. the football." She mumbled, looking over her shoulder at the window. It was still intact. It looked perfectly fine. "I suppose that was lucky, then." She continued, laughing lightly and looking around the class. But she was the only one laughing. The rest were sharing confused looks with each other. "What's going on..?" Hayley then asked, frowning herself and standing up. She looked out the window again. The football players had fled. Just as she would have expected them to after something like that. "I bet the football team will be glad to find out they aren't in trouble." She laughed again and looked around for some sign of amusement on her classmates faces. Still looks of confusion. The ones who had been texting weren't even trying to hide their phones now. They were all staring at her. "Didn't anyone else see that?"

"Hayley, the football team weren't out there." Came the reply from Errica, who was sat at the other side of the room. The sentence hit her like a brick wall. 

"They were, Errica. You just didn't see them. You can't see the football pitch from there, can you?" She laughed uneasily and looked around. There was still only confusion from the majority of her classmates. Those who had recovered from the wild claims she was making were shaking their heads and agreeing with Errica. Hayley looked outside again and let a small gasp of surprise escape her. She'd imagined it all.

"I think it'd be best if you went to the nurse.." The maths teacher mumbled. Hayley slowly grabbed her notebook and bag before walking out of the room again. 

And that was the beginning of the end of everything I had built up to, everything I had hoped for. I still can't concentrate in lessons. I honestly don't understand why I go to school anymore. There's no point. I never do anything and people just look at me funny now. As soon as you get a diagnosis, everyone looks at you differently. All because you're different. Odd. Abnormal.

[thetruthabouterrica-blog]

1: Beginnings

I've gotten better at being able to tell when people lie. I guess you could put it down to spending most of my spare time from watching crime shows galore. And crime films. Or basically, anything in the genre of crime. I'm not exactly ordinary, I suppose. Then again, neither is Hayley. But she's a different sort of not ordinary that I'll never be able to truly understand. But when Cara lied to me over the phone about having made plans already, I knew she was bluffing because she found the film I wanted to watch scary. "I've got plans to go over to Emilia's house." She'd said. She probably should have hidden the post from me on Facebook about her being bored and at home, if she had really wanted to protect my feelings.

My mum and dad had gone out to some special work meeting, and Spencer had stopped by earlier in the day to wish me a happy birthday. Sure, it was a day early, but that was better than nothing coming from him, so I was glad with what I got. So here I was, stuck home alone on the count down to my 18th birthday. Only an hour or so left now. It's always weird, having to get used to saying your new age after a birthday. Or it is for me, at least. Probably because I'm about as forgetful as they get. So things like remembering the new year and remembering what my name age is aren't exactly my strong points. 

It was when I was sprawled across the small sofa in my family room, with a giant tub of ice cream and a really cheesy horror movie on the TV that I heard it. Something fell through the letter box and onto the floor. I quickly put the ice cream tub down on the small table coffee table and paused the film, even though I didn't need to -- I'd already seen it at least 10 times because the cheesiness of it amused me -- and ran to the door, hoping to possibly see the outline of Cara through the frosted glass, but I was wrong to hope so. There was no one outside. All that was there was a screwed up ball of paper. It was somewhat flattened as well, making it look like it had been trodden on a few times as well. 

Errica crouched down and slowly picked up it up, unraveling the ball of paper and smoothing it out on the floor. The words were a messy scrawled, and were smudged too -- someone hadn't taken much care with the paper. It had a coffee ring around it, making it look a lot older than she would have assumed as well. She picked it up and held it a bit closer to her face. "You aren't who your parents say you are.." Errica mumbled, reading the note aloud. She dropped the paper as she read the final word. "What the hell?!" Errica exclaimed, standing up and slowly backing away from it. If this was someone's idea of a sick and twisted birthday prank, it wasn't funny to her. She glanced down to her watch. It flashed 00:00. It was midnight. What a brilliant way to start off her birthday?