“MUM HAVE YOU SEEN MY BOOK?” I yelled downstairs.

Frantically, I pulled everything off my shelf in a search for my book. The book I’ve poured my heart and soul into for the past two years has gone missing and you can probably tell I’m not happy about it.

It’s like I can feel the clock ticking away, eating the seconds I have before we have to get in the car and go.

Mum hasn’t even replied, probably busying herself with sorting out the cats, Mitsy and Polly. I carried on trashing my bedroom to pieces so small they make smashed glass look like planets.

I ran my hands through my blonde, bobbed hair and tried to recall the last time I had it. I had it in school, then at home fitting the cover, then…. Ah that’s where it was. In the fridge.