Tijuana, México

When it came to school work Gemma never really paid attention, she didn't worry about school, all she worried about was whether she could get her steps right. Ballet was her life; however in the Tijuana México the only ballet school didn't push Gemma to the ability she wanted.


Gemma glanced up from the pages of her magazine to see Señorita Morrero glaring down at her. The teacher's grey hair was falling out her bun and her brown skin was sunken and wrinkled.

"Sí señorita?" Gemma said closing her magazine and hiding it under her chemistry book.

"¿Qué estás leyendo?" she said snatching the magazine from beneath Gemma's book. "Reading about ballet again are we?"

Gemma glanced down at her book hoping for a way out of this situation. "Pero-"

"¡Nada de peros!" Señorita Morrero exclaimed. "You should not be reading this in my lesson!"

The whole class had gone silent and every eye was settled on the commotion at the back of the room. "But your lessons bore me miss. Who wants to learn about electrolysis when you learn about the Royal Ballet?"

Señorita Morrero scowled down at Gemma. "Why don't I take this and you stay after this lesson."

"Sí señorita." Gemma mumbled.

At the end of the lessons everyone filed out of the room except for Gemma. She kept her scowl trained on a fly walking on the window. Her friend Maria paused beside her, her bright blue eyes were filled with concern.

"Good luck." she whispered patting her friends shoulder before walking out the door with the rest of the students. Leaving Gemma to face the wrath of Señorita Morrero.

Two hours later Gemma held the torn remains of her magazine, as she walked slowly across the dusty path and towards her parents waiting car. The small battered mini's engine was rattling, and she could see her mothers silhouette against the sunlight.

Gemma opened the car door and slipped inside. "It's not what you think mother."

Gemma's mother tore her gaze from the wind screen to rest on her daughter. "Sé lo suficiente. Qué se basan para la próxima semana."

"¡Qué!" Gemma exclaimed whirling round to face her mother. "Grounded for a week! That's insane!"

Her mother pulled away from the curb. "Think what you like, but it wasn't I who was not concentrating in lessons."

"I hate you." Gemma muttered under breath and sinking down in her seat.

The drive through the city was slow due to the rush hour traffic and by the time they reached the outskirts of the city it was gone dark. The lights from the mini barely lit the road ahead of them.

Gemma was bored as she flicked through the songs on her iPod trying to find a song which would lift her spirits. The only songs which wanted to play were slow depressing love songs.

"Shut that bloody thing off." Gemma's mother said glancing sideways at her daughter.

"Why?" Gemma sighed flicking through more songs.

"Its making it hard to see."

Gemma looked up from the screen to see the empty road before her, she could see clearly in front. The road was empty and winding except for a single car coming towards them. "I can see fine." she said.

"Just give it here." Gemma's mother reached across and snatched the iPod out of her hands. The car lurched with the sudden movement and in the next moment they were hurtling towards the other car.

"¡Madre!" Gemma screamed frozen with fear as she watched the blood red car come closer and closer until the lights were blinding. She squeezed her eyes shut as she prayed for them to survive. Gemma didn't believe in God even though her mother had turned Catholic after her father's death.

The screeching of tires, the smell of burning breaks, the blasting of a horn over rode Gemma's brain. She clutched the seat and held her breath. The car collided. Gemma felt every bone in her body jolt as the car made impact. The airbag exploded in her face and she was filled with an immense pain. She could taste blood but she couldn't bring herself to move. The pain overrode her brain and she sunk into the forgiving blackness of unconsciousness.

Gemma came round to screaming, her eyes were gluey as she lifted her head. Her neck was stiff and her nose crushed, she glanced over at her mother whose body was mangled and bloody hanging off the steering column. Her mother had insisted that there was no need for a seatbelt as God would always protect her from danger. That hadn't happened.

"Madre." Gemma croaked reaching her hand out to take her mother's bloody hand. It was cold to touch and in the moonlight Gemma could see the pale skin of her mother's hand. Sickly white in contrast to her jet black hair.

Gemma wanted to cry, to scream, to vomit. But her throat was dry and her body throbbed in pain. The smell of smoke filled her nostrils and she could feel the heat from the flames which were climbing up the crushed bonnet of the car. She couldn't bring herself to move all she knew was to lie and wait.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked, it was British.

Gemma couldn't bring herself to speak, to move. She felt strong hands grip her shoulders. "Aghhhh!" Gemma screamed in pain as she was lofted out of the car and onto the dusty road.

"¡Mi madre!" Gemma sobbed. "Ayudando a mi madre...creo que ella está muerta."

"Its okay." A softly spoken British woman said wrapping her arms around the girls shoulder.

"My mother!" Gemma repeated in English. "You need to help my mother. I think she is dead!"

Gemma stared at the burning mini and she watched a young man try to get to the car. He came back with glistening eyes.

"I am so sorry." he said crouching down in front of Gemma, his face was stained in soot and his badly dyed blonde hair stuck to his head. Piercings adorned his face, and they glistened in the light from the burning car.

"She's dead?" Gemma whispered clutching her school skirt which was stained with blood.

The man nodded. "We need to get you to a hospital, fast."

He picked Gemma up and carried her towards a camper van which was parked a little way from the burning cars. Gemma lay on the freshly made bed unable to move, tears streaming down her face.

Gemma got her first proper look at the older woman; her long brown hair fell in curls past her shoulders. "What is your name?" she asked dabbing a wet cloth to Gemma's face.

"Gemma Vargas." she croaked.

The older woman nodded. "My name is Zara and my husband is Ewart."

"Did the other driver live?"

Zara shook her head sadly. "No."

"It was my fault." Gemma whispered. "All because I was reading a magazine in class."

"Don't blame yourself over something you can't control." Zara said. "Okay?"

Within twenty minutes Gemma was being rushed through the doors of the hospital. The bright fluorescent lights burned the back of her eyes, there were shouts and beeps and soon the comforting face of Zara was replaced by a stern faced Doctor.

"You will only feel a pinch." he said.

Gemma felt more than a pinch as the needle went deep into her skin, her vision blurred and her eye lids became heavy. For the second time that day she sunk into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

Paparimu, Auckland New Zealand

Amelia moved through the trees, she held her breath as she came to a stop beside a fence. It was rotting and crumbling and covered in moss. There was a movement from beside her and Gabrielle came to a stop on her left.

"You sure you want to do this?" Gabrielle whispered.

Amelia glanced sideways and nodded. "They need payback. Luke can't get away treating us like that."

"I think I need to puke."

"Mate! You said you weren't going to freak out!" Amelia exclaimed hitting Gabrielle in the shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" Gabrielle whimpered rubbing her shoulder. "I didn't think you were gonna actually do this aye?"

"You are such a knob." Amelia sighed standing up.

"I might just stay here." Gabrielle murmured standing up.

Amelia turned to look at Gabrielle, her brown eyes were wide with fear and his lower lip was trembling, her chocolate coloured skin looked almost black in the dark. "Fine, go wait by the bikes."

"Be quick." Gabrielle nodded eagerly. "I don't know what Ness will think when she finds out the bikes are gone."

Amelia rolled her eyes; Gabrielle had been her friend since she had started at Alton Foster Home two weeks earlier. Gabrielle had a heavy Jamaican build, but she was as soft as a teddy bear and a goody-two-shoes. Ness was the mother figure in Alton House and she treated each kid as one of her own. "Well don't stand here wasting my time."

"Right, sorry." Gabrielle said crouching down and scurrying back into the bush. Amelia watched until he had disappeared before moving forward, holding the crowbar tightly in her one hand.

The moon was full, filling the sky and illuminating the ground before Amelia, she stepped carefully towards the small wooden house. It looked a sickly white in the moon and the Victorian style looked out of place next to the palm tree.

In a matter of moments Amelia was on the back porch, she stepped up to the ranch slider and brought the crowbar down. There was a crack as the lock broke. Amelia tensed and glanced around before pulling the door open, it slid away easily and she stepped inside.

The house was dark and silent, but Amelia knew where she was headed. She felt her way along the corridor until she reached the room at the end, it was the kitchen. Flicking on her phone she glanced at the time, it was almost ten pm. That gave her twenty minutes.

Amelia walked towards the pantry and pulled open the door, an automatic light came on and illuminated the shelves of food. She grabbed the boxes of cereal and tore them open, stepping back she let the corn flakes and cocoa pops fall to the floor. She stepped on them and crushed them into the tiles before reaching for the flour and throwing it against the wall, it exploded in a cloud of white. Amelia stopped being precise and grabbed whatever came in contact with her hand. In a matter of minutes the kitchen was a mess, sticky jam dribbled down the wall, chips stuck to the peanut butter and the kiwi fruit and mandarins were squished into the drawers. But Amelia wasn't quite finished, she reached down and grabbed the two litre bottle of sprite shaking it vigorously with both hands before holding it at arm's length, she twisted the cap and the fizzy drink exploded into foam, covering the food which coated the kitchen.

As Amelia went to leave she paused and looked at the fridge door, it was tempting all the food which could be thrown round the kitchen. Amelia glanced down at her phones display; she was cutting it pretty close. The Smith's would be home soon. She sighed heavily as she pulled open the fridge door, she grabbed each shelf and yanked it out sending the food crashing across the floor. Unscrewing the lids to the three bottles of milk she threw them each against the wall, they exploded and the smell of milk filled the room.

Amelia took the bottle of watties tomato sauce and squirted it int her hand, dabbing two fingers into the sticky substance she turned to the wall of the hall way. She wrote in bold capitals, smearing the words across the white painted walls.

'Next time it will be worse. Adiós amigo, A xx'

Amelia stepped back and looked at her handy work before picking up the crowbar and heading back down the hallway, she dragged the crowbar along the wall as walked, letting flakes of paint fall to the floor.

Amelia slipped back out the door and headed back through the garden, she vaulted over the crumbling fence and into the bush she had seen Gabrielle disappear into half an hour earlier. She pulled out a small wind up torch and shone it on the ground before her as she made her way back to the bikes.

Hidden behind a cluster of flax bushes only one bike remained, it was your average off roading motorbike, deep blue with big tires. A small piece of paper was wedged beneath the wires for the brakes.

'I couldn't bear to wait. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me tomorrow. Gabrielle.'

Amelia sighed and screwed up the paper, placing it in her jeans pocket. She picked up the bike and straddled the it, she twisted the key and revved the engine. The bike roared to life and Amelia kicked off from the ground.

It happened in an instant, a blink of an eye some would say. But as soon as Amelia pulled out onto the main road the world spun around her as she shot into the sky. For a moment she was weightless and soaring, until the screeching of tires filled her ears and the tarmac road was travelling towards her at an ungrateful speed. She hit the ground hard and fast, skidding along the road on her front, the the momentum sent her on her back. She screamed out in pain as the road tore at her skin and broke her bones.

Amelia came to a stop, lying in the middle of the road staring up into the twinkling stars which covered the nights sky. She was vaguely aware of screaming and voices, but she zoned out until they were a single monotone, the pain consumed her body, her mind, until the only option was to sink into unconsciousness.



I have created yet a new story. If you like it, review. I like reviews. Why not make life easier for a crippled soul like myself?

Dislcaimer: I own nothing, CHERUB is all Mr Muchamore.

Oh and again, review.

Thanks :)