Page 52 - My Home on the Earth

for themselves. I want to be like them and hope tomorrow will be better than today.
John went inside. He ripped the sacks apart and pulled out a sleeping bag and fluffy blankets and in despair threw them idly on the floor. I have my brain and I can think for myself. I’ll show her! I can stay here and one day, I’ll write to my dad and he’ll come and find me. I need to find something that’s good for me. Then I can go back to school to catch up and make him proud.
Without any fear or self-pity, he strode across the yard. Before him, stood a gaunt shell waiting for a reason to remain standing. Stepping into the old building was like stepping into another world. He knew people always said not to go into derelict buildings, but no one was here to see him... He couldn’t figure out what had happened. Much of the infrastructure had either burnt or collapsed and the once strong roof had all but surrendered to the wind and rain. Thick-stemmed ivy grew unchecked, clinging and crawling over the crumbling brick walls. Wandering through the debris he felt like something was watching him, and he was aware of an uneasy silence apart from pigeons flapping as he moved underneath their roosting places. It was empty, except for a few signs on the walls advertising metal products, sections of rusted factory equipment, and a scattering of nuts and bolts. Remnants of shattered glass in rotten wooden frames lay all around so he was mindful where he trod. Where there was glass it was grey with grime. This was no place to stay with the
46