“My name is Grace Elizabeth Berrington. I see no reason to stay here any longer, why prolong what’s going to happen to me sooner rather than later” Grace says out loud into the silence. It’s a cold autumn day and the rain has been raining for the past few week non-stop. Grace looks over the edge of the bridge to see the river flowing faster than usual and appears as if it will burst its banks within a few days. The clock in the local village chimes eight o’clock in the evening and Grace takes a deep breath in. She manages to sit up onto the brickwork of the bridge and swivel herself round so her feet are dangling over the edge towards the water. As she stares at the water she sees some rubbish fly past and thinks to herself that really that’s what the rain is good for. To wash away the rubbish from everyone’s lives just like I will be, no one will know I'm gone as this river leads to the sea which is where I shall rest just like Jonathon. Grace shakes the idea of Jonathon out of her head and looks down at the water and slides herself forward ever so slightly nearer the edge. Grace takes in a deep breath and....
28th July 1926
“Grace Elizabeth Fummel I asked you to be out of bed ten minutes ago” Graces mother shouts down from the living room. “I know you don’t have school today but you mustn’t waste the day away you will grow old one day and wish you had lived more”. An eight year old Grace gets out of bed and sits on the stool and stares at herself in the mirror. Really she had nothing to complain about; a lot of younger girls had it worse than she did. Her bedroom door flies open and her mother enters. “GRACE ELIZABETH FUMM...”
“I'm awake mother” Grace says as she brushes her hair.
“Then why didn’t you say darling” Graces mum takes the brush from her hand and starts to yank down on her hair.
“Ouch mum your hurting me!” Grace tries to pull away but her mother puts her hand on her shoulder
“If you want me to get these knots out of your hair then I have to tug” She gives another tug of the brush and Grace lets out a scream a jumps up with the brush still stuck in her hair. She grabs the brush and chucks it onto the bed. “Excuse me young lady” Grace ignores her mother and walks over to the short plain dress that she has worn for years off its hook and over her head. “You can’t wear that again Grace” Grace looks at her mother and rolls her eyes “Excuse me Grace, I will not have that in my house” she strides across the room and gives Grace a slap across the back of her head. “Now go downstairs and have some breakfast” she orders. Once she has left the room Grace grabs some shoes from under her bed and slips them onto her feet. As she clomps down the stairs she enters the kitchen where her mother is sat at the wooden table, she looks at Grace puzzled and says “Where do you think you are going young lady” Grace ignores her mother and walks out of the back door into the early morning sun which’s feels nice and warm on her skin. Her mother follows her outside and calls “Grace Elizabeth Fummel get back here” Grace again ignores her mother’s call and runs off although she knows this will mean no supper and a good beating when her father returns and tells her father what she has done. Grace runs down out of their garden towards the the local shops. Grace was born in her house where she lives now and attends the one local school in their village which every child in the village goes to but unfortunately no matter how hard Grace tries she has never made any friends and is always left on her own. But this does not bother Grace she would rather be on her own than around any of them. So when she can she goes down to the river where she will sit in the sunshine and watch the ducks. Grace races over the bridge that leads to the green by the side of the river and sits down near a pile of dandelions and begins to make a chain.
7th November 1991
... pushes herself off of the bridge and feels the air rush past her as she races towards the water.
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Thats Part One of Lonely Girl and I hope you liked it. I know its a bit upsetting start to a series but its whats come to me. So I hope you will all come back soon and read the rest of Grace Elizabeth Fummels story.
Image & Text copyright Michael Sweeney Photography.
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