It wasn’t my fault.  I didn’t mean to. It just happened…An accident. That’s all it was, a minor accident. So why did I leave home?

The door banged loudly behind me, as it collided violently with the aged willow frame.  Stepping out onto the crumbling limestone pathway, I walked down it towards the perimeter of the little village hidden away between two mountains.  

Every footfall sent shockwaves up my back, realising that I was leaving my home, forever.  I stumbled occasionally across loose rocks that poked out of the gravely path. Where would I go now? I decided to continue walking until I was thinking straight at least.

I entered the small wood just near us, it let hardly any sunlight in, and it was dark, gloomy and quite nerve-racking being in here. Loud sounds reverberated around the trees magnifying them many times. I had never liked being in this place. It had always scared me. But today I was more scared at what would happen if I stayed near my home. I had to flee, I couldn’t think of it as home anymore, after what I’d done there. The horror that would now haunt me for eternity or longer. Finally, I re-entered once more into glorious sunlight and I carried on once again. 

After a couple of kilometres…or was it miles, I arrived at a small city. I recognised it as the closest industrialised city near our farm: Rudgewell. I distinctly remember coming here when I was a little nipper.  I followed the path I had been taken then. As I had expected I arrived at the meat market. I spent a while looking around the dripping carcasses of the slaughtered animals. Some of them could be ours, dad only when there the other day. As I came to the end of the street market and gazed at the haze at the start of the industrialised part of town.

Wandering aimlessly through the streets I noted an old inn. I browsed the wares of some of the markets and bough a hunk of bread, some milk and a large yellow lump of cheese. In the market, indeed I did see some of the animals my father had sold last week around, but I ignored them as they mooed and baaed at me in recognition. I remembered quite a bit of this town.  

The last time I came here, I was shown around one of the large factories, I was shown all the things a young boy who had grown up on a farm wanted to see: The market, the inn’s, factories, the works! I remembered every bit of it. I had always begged my father to take him every time he went, but he never did. He either forgot, or refused, because he did loose me briefly the first and last time we went together.

After a while people began to pack away their stalls as evening approached. The sun fell back behind the hills, it was now twilight; small pricks of light were scattered through the sky like bread crumbs that spilled onto the floor. No! Don’t think about it.

I found my way back to the old dilapidated inn and paid with the little money I had bought to sleep there that night. I tossed and turned all night. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of what I’d done. Finally, at 3:00 in the morning, I got up, dressed and left the inn. Just as I was leaving the city, I began to regret leaving at this time of night. It was cold, wet and a chilling wind was slicing it way through the night.

I traipsed through the night blindly aided only by a semi-bright moon. I grew cold very quickly now, with the comfort of the sun or another layer to keep me warm. Soon enough, it started to drizzle but it cleared up an hour or two before sunrise. During the time before light was shed on my situation, I fell over numerous rocks cutting, grazing and probably infecting my self many times. 

The sun began to rise over the hills; it stained them crimson as I proceeded into its place in the cold morning sky. A wave of warmth surrounded me and caressed my cold, shivering form. How thankful I was. None the less, I continued walking, stopping only for a second to let the slight warmth consume me.

I trudged on. My clothes and little food I had was the only thing that pushed me onwards.  

A rumble of thunder crashed through the skies and I jerked my head upwards. Thick, black storm clouds were swirling round me menacingly. Then the clouds tore open, and sheets of rain lashed down chilling me to the bone. Brushing my hair out of my eyes, I ran frantically around the uneven, slippery surface seeking shelter.

I was relived when ahead of me the silhouette of a large building was pasted onto the dark swirling sky. I sapped the last of my energy plunging through the deep puddles that had now formed around the house. I approached the ancient teak door that beckoned to me, and I as I knocked using the gargoyle knocker I felt the noise lurch through the house. No one answered. I cried out to the house “Hello?” nothing. Not caring for the outside any longer, I tried the handle on the door. It turned jerkily, as if it hadn’t been used in many years.

The large door creaked loudly on its old rusting hinges as it swung inwards. The entrance hall opened up before me like a large yawn. Leaves littered the marble floor, and the grand stone staircase stood dominantly at both sides of the gaping mouth. I was in awe. I had never entered such a magnificent domain like this.

I began to explore the depths of the house; every room had a thick, choking thick layer of dark white dust and more times than not extras. In one leaves and ivy growing in at the great glass windows and in another, which looked like the dining room, bats high up in the rafters were sleeping. They must of got in for the many holes that filled the high windows that were set into the sides of the room

Eventually, I found what I was looking for: The Kitchen! I delved through the masses of cupboards in that colossal room. Nothing edible, It all had either been attacked by rats or moulded beyond recognition. I left the room, slightly downhearted and feeling a little hungrier than u was when I entered the kitchen. When I ascended up the marble staircase, it crumbled slightly under my footfalls, but it all held. Up stairs a dim dark hall stretched a long way ahead of me, many shadowy alcoves and other passageways led off this main one to stretch to the further reaches of the house. I searched though several rooms. There was a small nursery, several guest rooms and children and master bedrooms.

In one room, which was the same for most of them, he sheets were old, dirty and were stained a dark red colour. I stumbled back down the stairs and found the only nice room in the house. I entered the lounge and collapsed into a large fat armchair. I snuggled down and relaxed.

The aroma of piping hot bread wafted around me. Recognising it, I awoke. Yes, I was looking down onto my kitchen from above. Indeed, there was a fat, loaf of farmhouse white steaming on the counter to the right of me. 

A young, but rather pretty girl in blonde pigtails tied together in pink ribbons came bouncing into the room. Was it my sister? Then, a young man with long blonde hair, blue eyes appeared on the threshold. He had was rather hansom for his age, but something about him didn’t look quite right. Was it me? He moved closely towards the young girl who had torn of a chunk of bread and was nibbling at it. ‘No! I can’t watch this!’ He… I hit her in the back of the head and with a sound half way between a pig snort and a scream, she crumpled down onto the floor, bread crumbs scattered all around her.

I pulled myself away from this painful memory, tears streaming from my dark pits. I wept, and cried and moaned to myself in that secluded dark room filled with hate and darkness. Why did I do that? Does it matter anymore? All I know is that I have to get back make sure I didn’t so the worst. Make sure she’s OK. 

Uncontrollably, I launched from the house into the night, seeking aimlessly for the way back home. I tripped and fell many times slicing my legs through my trousers on the jagged teeth on the pathway causing myself quite a bit of damage along the way. I’m sure I took some wrong turnings, but I continued until I smelt the smell of acrid smoke ahead and knew I must be near Rudgewell.

Knowing morning was rapidly approaching, I sprinted through the streets to the other side of the town tearing my lungs apart. When on the other side, it was a short run to my home. Through the small forest that separated us from the industrial world. 

As the sun arose between our two hills I had slowed into a slow jog. I was almost there! When I finally burst through the front gate, my sister came up to me and hugged me saying “Where have you been, I’ve been so worried” I just hugged her tightly and forgot all of what had happened previously.

My mum had told be that yesterday a goat had got into the house and must have butted my sister in the back causing her to be knocked unconscious. She told me that all was fine now, and the goats were locked up safely. Then she asked where I’d been. All I said to her was ‘It doesn’t matter, I’m home now’ 

Later on in the day, without her knowing, I did all of my sisters chores and promised to do whatever she asked me to do from now on. I hope that I will forget what I did to her.

I know it wasn’t my fault.  I didn’t mean to. Something possessed me to do it… That’s all it was, a minor accident. So why did I leave home? Was I afraid I had done the worst? Or was I scared or myself? That’s all in the past now. Maybe I can forget.