On Instagram yesterday, I announced that I am going to be posting twice weekly on here. I know, I know. I am asking for trouble. I barely get enough time to think/write/sit as it is, and I am pushing myself to write something twice a week. Wow. Can anyone say “glutton for punishment”? Actually, don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I can do this. I’ll show you!

So… as of today, I am posting every Saturday and Tuesday, right here on An A-Z From Inside My Head. DON’T MISS OUT! Come and hang out with me!

Today, I thought I would give you a little bit of flash fiction to be going on with. See if you can spot the inspiration behind the characters!



‘Drink,’ she croaked, ‘You’ll feel better.’

Even flat on my back with covers under my chin, I felt the need to narrow my eyes at her, and perhaps, if she got close enough, slap her across the face.

‘I’ve been like this for days.’ I mumbled, ‘It’s not some miraculous cure. It’s a cup of tea.’

‘Tea has healing powers, dear.’ She placed the steaming cup on the bedside table and left the room.

Grandmothers are a special creature, though, when in the throes of illness, ultimately frustrating. She was hovering—trying to will me into recovery.

Suddenly, there was a slight rustling outside my window. My eyes gravitated toward the gap between the pane and the sill. Possible combative protection strategies raced through my mind, and all resulted in the same thing—horrific death.

‘Ow. Shit. Holy—’ a voice drifted through the window over the rustling.

This was it. This was how we were going to die. Cause of death: an injured, clumsy murderer.

‘Rachel! Ow! Son of a bitch!’ the voice continued.

Wait … how did they know my name?

‘Rachel! I think there’s a thorn in my— yup, there’s definitely a thorn in my hand.’

I raised an eyebrow, and stifled the urge to laugh.

‘Jack, is that you?’

‘Rachel! You’re home. Good.’ A tuft of blonde hair peeked above the window sill, shaking slightly with his efforts to climb, ‘Ow! This thing is so damn prickly!’

‘It’s a rose bush, Jack. Rose bushes usually have thorns.’

‘Whatever, clever clogs,’ his face came into view. It was red and sprinkled with perspiration.

‘Don’t look down,’ I smirked, knowing full well he was petrified of heights.

‘Ha ha,’ he expertly catapulted over the window sill and into the room.

‘Well done. You have about thirty seconds before Grandma comes in and asks what all the noise was.’

His triumphant face paled considerably; it swivelled on its axis desperately searching for a hiding spot. Settling on the space beneath my bed, he launched himself onto the floor and rolled into it just as the door swung open.

‘Did you hear that awful racket, dear?’

‘Yeah, grandma,’ I deadpanned, ‘I was just about to fall asleep. I think it must have been those kids next door.’

‘I have told that couple that they need to keep their kids under control!’ she wagged her finger in the direction of the open window, ignorant of my sarcasm, ‘But do they listen?’

She shuffled over to the window and yanked it down, shutting it with an almighty bang. I felt Jack’s head hit the underside of my mattress, causing a loud scoff to escape from my lips.

‘What is it, dear?’ Grandma turned to face me, ‘Are you feeling alright?’

‘I’m fine,’ I cleared my throat, ‘Just a tickle.’

‘Okay,’ she nodded solemnly, ‘I’ll leave you to sleep.’

And, thus, she waddled from the room again.

Jack let out a dramatic sigh and slid out into view again.

‘What have you done to yourself?’ he gingerly placed himself on the bed and brushed a couple of strands of hair out of my eyes.

‘I fell.’

‘Off what? A three-storey building?’

I chuckled, ‘Something like that.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not right at this minute,’ I murmured, ‘I’m pretty heavily dosed on pain killers.’

‘You’re high?’ he laughed.

No … just … painless.’

‘Well … school hasn’t been the same without you.’

‘I’m sure it’s surviving without me.’

‘It’s not nearly as fun.’

‘Oh, you’re fine.’ I nudged his shoulder with my fingertips, ‘big baby.’

He ran his fingers through his hair, and exhaled softly.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I’m coming back to school in a week. You’ll survive that long, right?’ my bottom lip jutted out, mockingly, ‘Or is Bruno picking on you?’

His look of reply implied that I was close to being punched.

‘How is Bruno, anyway?’

I was sure that Bruno had been horrible to Jack—he always was. But I missed him. He could always make me laugh.

‘He’s fine, I guess.’ Jack mumbled.

After a moment’s silence, he raised himself from the bed. He looked down at me, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, then turned away.

‘I’ll see you next week, I guess,’ He grumbled before heaving the window upward.

‘Jack! Come on! It was a joke!’

‘Look,’ he abruptly spun on his heel, ‘I came here to see if you were ok. I hadn’t heard from you, and I was worried.’

‘You aren’t my boyfriend!’ I found myself shouting.

‘That may be!’ he bellowed back, ‘But let me ask you this: has he come to see you? Called you? Texted you?’

I fell quiet and stared at my hands.

‘That’s what I thought. See you around, Rachel.’

And, with that, he flipped his legs out the window and jumped.


There you have it!

Let me know in the comments if you have placed the inspiration behind the characters! I’d be interested to hear who you think they stem from!

I will see you next Tuesday for another post.

In the mean time, follow me on socials!




Much love! xxx

P.S. My next A-Z post needs to start with I. Any ideas?


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