Summary

Melanie Scott, a 15-year-old from Western New South Wales, Australia, is recovering from an injury with crutches and is tasked with writing a pen-pal letter for an English assignment, where she expresses her frustration with her town's dullness and her mother's skepticism about her injuries.

Abstract

Melanie Scott, a teenager from a small town in Australia, is dealing with the aftermath of an injury that has left her on crutches. Despite having no broken bones, she is in significant pain and is required to use crutches to aid her recovery. Her mother seems to doubt the severity of her injuries, a sentiment that Melanie has experienced before. To fulfill an English assignment from Mr. Dawson, Melanie begins a letter to a pen-pal named Cameron, in which she sarcastically describes the monotony of her town and its lack of modern amenities. The narrative presents a choice for the reader to follow, either Melanie asks her mother to post the letter or she decides to revise it, reflecting her indecision and frustration. The story is part of a "Choose Your Own Adventure" format, with the author, Nikki Waterson, inviting reader interaction.

Opinions

Melanie feels that her town is exceptionally boring and is unimpressed with the availability of modern technology and amenities.
She is dismissive of her English assignment, considering it a waste of time and referring to it as "crappy."
Melanie's mother appears to be skeptical of her daughter's injuries, suggesting that she believes Melanie exaggerates her pain.
The mother is preoccupied with the television show "Dancing With The Stars," which annoys Melanie.
Melanie seems to have a strained relationship with her mother, as indicated by her abrupt responses and desire for space.
The narrative implies that Melanie may have a history of injuries, as referenced by past incidents where her mother downplayed the severity.

1 . My Name Is Melanie Scott

PATH: MEL_1

It’s Tuesday afternoon, mum and I are in the taxi back to the house. I have crutches.

An annoying predicament, although temporary.

The doctors said I have no broken bones and no fractures- none whatsoever. The worst injury I suffered, other than many cuts and bruises, was a concussion.

They’re curious about why I’m in so much pain. The crutches are for me to slowly ease back onto my foot, which is currently bandaged. I twisted it completely the wrong way when I fell. Back to school tomorrow. Oh, joy.

When I walked out of the hospital and sat in the car, my mum said to me, “I didn’t know they give out crutches for bruising now.”

She was serious, and it wasn’t worth commenting on. She’s always so sure I’m never injured, never actually hurt. It must be those Nurse instincts. Even when I fell off the water tank at school and cracked open my head.

“Head wounds always bleed more.”

She’d told the school Secretary who had shown mum to the sickbay.

“She’ll be right”.

Anyway, we head home with my crutches. I lay in bed for a while. And then I decided to get started on my pen-pal homework from Mr Dawson.

I have to write to some other emotionally unstable teen somewhere. Who cares.

“Talk about your differences,” Mr Dawson had said.

Well, I have plenty of those.

Dear Cameron

My name is Melanie Scott. I am 15 years old and I live in the most boring town on Earth, Western New South Wales in Australia. That’s a mouthful.

Think your town is more boring than mine? How many weeks did it take you to get iPods in stock at your local ‘supacenta’ or whatever?

How many hours does it take you to get to the nearest shopping centre?

Does your local supermarket stock food with expiry dates from two or three years ago?

Didn’t think so.

Sorry if I’m wasting your time, this is just some crappy English assignment I have to do.

Don’t write back, Scott.

I call down to mum.

“MUM!”

She comes running up the stairs.

“What’s wrong? Did they announce the winners yet?”

“Mum! No!” She’s been obsessed with watching Dancing With The Stars since the show started. I have no idea why, but it’s all she seems to think about. I even caught her dancing around the house on her own a couple of times. She stopped and pretended to be tidying things up, but we both knew the truth.

“No, it’s not Dancing with the Stars. Ugh. I have a letter.”

“A letter? What for?” She asks me, stepping towards me and reaching out.

Choose path A or B.

No peeking until you’ve read the one you’ve chosen! To add to the story, read the submission guidelines and fill out the form.

CHOICE A

“A letter? What for?” She asks me, stepping towards me and reaching out.

“For nothing. Could you just post it please?”

“Sure darling. Very 20th Century of you though, writing a letter.”

“Leave me alone mum” I say, and huff as I roll (painfully) onto my side, back to her.

“Ok darling, will do, goodnight!”

And she closes the door behind her with a loud thud to make me wince.

Click to continue the story on this path…

CHOICE B

“A letter? What for?” She asks me, stepping towards me and reaching out.

“Nevermind, I forgot I have to fix it up first. Or maybe not… even bother” I pieter out.

“Okay darling… whatever you say. In that case since Her Majesty is done with me, I’m going back downstairs”

“Mhmm”

“Ok darling, goodnight!”

“Mhmm”

And she closes the door behind her with a loud thud to make me wince.

Click to continue the story on this path…

Nikki Waterson

Owns — Animal Rescue | Co-owns — Publication Station | Paws for Giving Pet Portraits donating 50% Profits | Cop | Passionate writer, artist and nerd

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