Read Online Emily Taylor - The Teenage Mum by Vi Grim - Free Book Online

zoo and eat him. That way he’d
suffer for what he's done to Annie and her mum.
     
It's time to relax. I need to
kick back and give my baby a chance to grow, to let my energies go
into growing his bones and giving him great big muscles. The
trouble is that I can't find a good book to read; I've grown out of
Jacqueline Wilson. I need something a bit meatier to read. I visit
Pollux and we go shopping. I ask him to recommend some books.
    'You'll
like The Hunger Games ,' he says.
'What's it about.'
'It's about a teenage girl that
kills everyone. It's very good.'
'It sounds like me, I'll get
it.'
    We order it and
the Harry Potter series and a whole lot of other
books. Pollux offers to download e-books but I want proper books
with pages that I can throw at Negrita when she sharpens her claws
on my bedspread, so I'll have to wait.
I sit out on the sofa
enjoying the sunshine but soon get bored. Then I remember my
diaries. I used to carry my diary everywhere in a secret pocket, so
that it was always with me if I got abducted or blown up or
something. Now that my life is a little less precarious, the
diaries are tucked in the drawer on the little table next to my
bed. I haven't written anything since the slimeball got me, there's
a whole lot of catching up to do.
First I read through my diary
from the desert, starting in Timbuktu and crossing to Khartoum. The
sketches Ijju and me drew come alive again: the camel train, the
sand surfing, the rock paintings and the pyramid hidden under the
sand. It all seems so long ago now, like from a different life. I
flick through the pages from Abdullah's seedy penthouse; I didn't
like that much, and reach Camillo and my wonder of being on this
special little asteroid.
The second diary is about half
full. I read up to my last entry at the beginning on December then
go back and tidy up some of the drawings which I made in a bit of a
hurry, colouring them in carefully and trying to make the clouds
and sea look realistic. Clouds are tricky.
I bring it up to date,
starting with Jesus's birthday party on Christmas Day. That was
fun. The next day, Boxing Day, I nearly got killed. I go to draw a
picture of the slimeball getting struck by Zeus's lightning bolt as
it hoovers me up, but just thinking of it makes the scar on my side
throb. Instead, I draw brave little Scruff barking at the rampaging
slimeball. On the next page I sketch Castor washed up on the beach
but as soon as I start colouring in his yellow bits, little lasers
start kicking up the dirt around my ankles. I rub it out and draw
Castor's round white face looking out through the window of my
cottage. I draw Zeus in his fighter against a background of stars
and write a couple of pages about my surprise 14th birthday party.
The seeds, I draw life size and leave space to write what sort of
trees they are, once they grow. I'd like to write something about
Zula's visits but it's just too secret even to go in my diary. I
draw a picture of me curled up in bed with Negrita at my feet. You
can't see much of me, just some spiky short hair sticking out from
under the duvet. Zula is in there with me.
    Zwingly is
tricky. It was so neat having
a boyfriend; we had such fun. That's why it hurt so much when it
all turned to custard. If I went back in time, would I do the same
again? Yes. I might even forgive him one day. I have so many good
memories and it was so nice having someone to love, someone who
was mine, if only for a little while. I leave the page
blank; he was such a good looking guy. If I draw him now he's
likely to have missing teeth and devil's horns.
I draw me in my lacy green
knickers with a little baby inside, and add some devil's horns;
I've been such abysmal company these last couple of months!
     
'Her waters have broken,' says
Castor. 'Emily, Emily, wake up. Ijju's waters have broken.'
It's two in the morning. How
inconvenient! I click my fingers to start up the worm and stay
where I am, snug in bed. It's late at night in Algeria as