Twenty pound note
By Ayyub Mohamed Ismail, Year Seven
BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG! Slamming my hand on my alarm clock to turn off the infernal noise, I scrambled out of bed, remembering it was my mother’s birthday. Grabbing my piggy bank, I emptied its contents, and hurriedly counted the change. Surprisingly it amounted to exactly £20, so it was enough to buy those new shoes Mum longed for. I raced off to my parent’s bedroom, cradling the mini-mountain of change in my arms. My father exchanged all the coins for a crisp £20 note, warning me to be careful with it. Assuring him I’d keep it safe, I shot off to get ready for school.
BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG! There was a spring in my step as I strolled back into the classroom after break. I was slightly bewildered as my eyes fell upon little Rivka sobbing at the front of the classroom, with a fuming head teacher by her side. Cautiously, I lowered myself into my seat.
As soon as everyone had sat down, the Head strode to the centre of the room, puffing out his chest importantly. “Let’s get straight to the point,” he growled. “Some nasty little squirt in this class has stolen Rivka’s £20 note.” The whole class let out a collective gasp. I glanced around, my brain immediately wondering who had done it.
“So, to sort it out here and now, I will personally search everyone in this class. Stand up!” he barked, droplets of spit flying out of his mouth. He started searching the person in front him. With a start I remembered my £20 note in my pocket. The Head was a few rows away from me, but I had no idea what to do! I panicked. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and my brain ran through possible excuses. The Head was three desks away from me... two... one...
“Turn out your pockets, boy!”
Dumbfounded, my hands moved slowly to my pocket... and the £20 note fluttered to the floor, like a lone leaf from a tree.
“HA! CAUGHT YOU OUT, YOU DESPICABLE CHILD! ISOLATION, NOW!” the Head bellowed.
I tried, but failed to get words out and protest my case. Knowing I was beaten, I turned tail and headed to isolation.
After about 3 hours of utter tedium, the school day was drawing to a close. I groaned, knowing I’d have to stay after school too. So I was surprised when the Head walked through the door, looking very red and flustered.
“It appears that we have made a mistake, and Rivka had the money in her pocket the whole time. Here is your money, I am very sorry for accusing you, Mr...”
Oblivious to the Head’s apology, I shot out of the room like a bullet from a gun, sprinting for all I was worth. Hopefully the shoes hadn’t been taken already, or I’d have got it in the neck!
Pumping my legs, I tore up High Street, screeching to a halt outside the shoe shop. Thankfully, the shoes were still there, as shiny and glamorous as ever! I sorted out my hair and collar, and walked into the shop. I made my way over to the counter, and asked the attendant for the shoes in the window. She smiled and said “That’ll be £19.99, please.”
I reached back into my pocket for the note.
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