The Writers' Circle

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Joshua sat in the back of the land rover, pleased with himself that they were on their way home.
He hated visiting family for Christmas; he wanted to be at home playing with all his toys.
He didn't care about anyone else, stinky relatives.
His father had tried to explain that the snow was falling heavily and that leaving an hour of so later would allow the roads to be gritted. He had almost begged him to be quiet as he shouted back.
He smiled to himself as he recalled the tantrum that followed the screaming and shouting, pushing over a vase and lying on the floor kicking his legs and crying until his mother had agreed they would go home.
The room had stopped talking to watch him, as he lay there, his mop of blonde hair on his head shaking from side to side as he punched the floor screaming.
Everyone looked as he grabbed his coat and slid it over his shoulders with a huff before he stormed out to the car, kicking gravel and snow as he stamped across the driveway.
He climbing in and slamming the door behind him, sitting firmly in the centre of the back seat he waited for his parents to arrive.
He watched from the window as they tried to apologise for his behaviour, he knew what they did, they did it every time.
"We're ever so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into him" his mother would say, trying to smile and keep her dignity.
"Boys, what can you do with them?" his father would smile as he smoked his cigar, shaking the men's hands before he would turn and walked back to the car.
So now he sat in the back seat, smiling to himself. He had won again.
He still had presents to open, lots of presents and being here stopped him doing what he wanted.
He had woken up at four O'clock and insisted that they get up with him as he opened his presents. They had begged him to leave them to sleep but he had jumped on the bed and shouted at them.
"You all hate me, No one loves me" he shouted repeatable until they surrendered and slowly got dressed.
The tree stood with the lights twinkling, piles of neatly wrapped presents littered the floor below, pine needles dropped onto silver and gold paper, getting caught under neatly tied bows. 
The maid and cook had both been given the day off as they expected to be out until late and would be eating there, so the house was empty and quiet. The grandfather clock ticked its soulful tune to itself in the corner as the remains of the fire burnt low in the hearth.
It was almost a Christmas card scene, with gold tinsel handing from the fire surround, and beautiful crystal ornaments hanging from the branches.
The light came on and Joshua ran into the room screaming with joy.
"Santa's been Santa's been" he shouted as he saw the mound of parcels.
He slid across the carpet on his knees stopping just short of the first present.
He tore the paper off, letting it land anywhere in his haste to get to the gift inside.
Once opened, he dropped it to the side and started on another with hardly a glance at what it was.
"Slow down Josh" his father had called as he sat down near the fire, he dropping fresh coals onto the embers and poked at it, trying to get them to catch light.
"Take your time Joshua. There's no need to rush"
But he ignored him, he usually ignore him so today wasn't going to be any different.
His father was a Director of a company in London that he had inherited from his father when he had passed away two years before. It meant he worked a lot and was usually away on business trips but as long as he brought back gifts Joshua didn't mind.
He treated his father like he treated his nanny, as long as they did what he wanted he didn't mind them being around. 
His father continued complaining about something but he knew that if he ignored him he would stop eventually.
By the time his mother had returned from the kitchen with two cups of coffee he was almost buried under torn paper. His presents lay at his side, hardly a glance at what they contained as he moved on.

But now he was going home again, the journey to his aunties has been so boring he had whinged all the way, complaining that his tie was too tight and that his shoes hurt his feet.
He kicked his shoes off and pulled his tie from around his neck, tossing it on the seat beside him. 
His mother turned to talk to him.
"Joshua, that wasn't very nice. Auntie Carol was upset about the vase you broke."
He said nothing, just looked out of the window as the snow flakes tried to grip the glass before they were pulled away by the speed.
"Are you listening?"
Blah blah blah he thought.
He smiled to himself, if she's complaining now imagine how she is going to be when she finds the crayons stuffed into the lampshade of the big lamp in the study, by now the heat should be melting them nicely.
"We don't like it when you're naughty, it makes Mummy and Daddy sad" she continued.
Oblivious to the fact he had already tuned her out.
He had broken one of his cousin's presents, pushing it under the bed to hide it.
Stupid remote controlled car shouldn't have broken that easily so it wasn't his fault, not that he cared. Shows it was a cheap thing, not like the one he had got for his tenth birthday a few months before.
Joshua's problem was that he had everything, each year he made a list and each year he got everything he asked for, everything.
He didn't want for a thing; he didn't need a family, just a bank balance and he liked to use it whenever he could.
"I want something to eat" he screamed.
"Daddy will look for somewhere to stop Joshie" his mother smiled at him.
"Where are we going to find something to eat at this time of the night dear?" he looked at her.
"I don't know but Joshua is hungry" 
He started to watch as his father pressed buttons on the navigation system. Clicking through options as he tried to find anywhere that might be open.
"I want food now" he screamed, throwing his shoes at the front of the car.
"I'm trying to find somewhere. Sit still" his father called, as a shoe bounced of the dashboard and fell between the seats.
Joshua screamed again and his mother turned.
"Joshua." Was all she managed to say as the car swerved on the icy roads, he heard his father swear as he tried to regain control, cursing as they lost traction again before they left the road, crashing through the barrier.
His mother screamed as they were tossed to the left, as the wheels left the road, spitting snow and dirt behind them before they stopped as they hit a tree.
"Mother?" he called, his voice shaken and tired, he could just make out the bodies of his parents in the front seat, the window smashed and snow flakes fell softly in through the gap.
He felt dizzy, and fell back onto the seat.

Joshua sat in his room; he had closed the door and pushed his chair against it to stop it being opened.
He didn't like all these people in his house, it wasn't right. 
Everyone would be looking sad and miserable, there was so much black downstairs already it was depressing so he refused to go out.
He sat on his bed, still in his pyjamas, looking at the black suit that hung against his wardrobe door, he felt tired. The sort of tiredness that makes your bones hurt, his head ached from the bruise that had developed since the crash,he touched it gingerly, moving his hand away as the pain flooded back.
The clock slowly ticked by the side of his bed, cutting the time into little bite size pieces.
He didn't want to attend the funeral. He sighed as he heard footsteps coming up the hallway outside.
He watched as the door handle turned but with the lock on no one was going to get in.
"Joshua sweetheart" his auntie called "Joshua you need to get ready."
The handle turned again as she pushed on it.
"Come on, you can't stay in there all day, you need to take the medicine the doctor gave you. I will stop your head hurting."
"Go away" he screamed as he threw a book at the door.
"You have two hours before we have to go; you need to be dressed and ready by then."
He sneered as he mouthed her words to himself, mimicking her.
"I'm not going" he shouted one more time
"And you can't make me" he yelled at the door
He listened as the footsteps walked away, he could hear a conversation at the end of the corridor but it didn't really interest him.
He sat on the bed; pulling his legs up underneath him he rested his arms on his knees and rocked gently to himself.
When his Grandfather had died he hadn't needed to go. He had kicked up such a fuss his father agreed to leave him at home with the Nanny. 
"Stupid funerals" he muttered to himself as he looked round his room for something to do, he was feeling bored now and he didn't like being bored.
His room was large, being at the front of the house he had insisted that it was his, pushing his parents to the back bedroom and out of the way.
It was blue, a warm boy blue, with a white rail running round the walls at waist height.
His double bed sat below the large windows. Three wardrobes stood to one side and a desk and chair stood on the other with many shelves running up the wall to the right.
He looked at the books he had but didn't want to read, he usually made his mother read to him but she wasn't here anymore.
With a sign of boredom he climbed off the bed and walked over to his desk, sat at the back where three unopened Christmas presents. He hadn't bothered to open them since the accident, not feeling like ripping the paper off them.
He looked at them, the last presents his parents had given him before they died.
He reached up and took the top one, it wasn't very heavy and it didn't make a noise when he shook it so he put it down again.
The next one looked better so he lifted it down with both hands.
He carried it back to his bed and sat down, placing the parcel in front of him.
For the first time he noticed a label attached to the ribbon.
 He touched it and read the note.
"To Joshua, We hope you like your gift." It was signed "With Love from Mummy and Daddy."
He wondered if his other presents had ever had labels before. If they had he hadn't noticed.
He read it again and felt a pain in his stomach, only a small one as though he was starting to feel hungry.
The pulled the red ribbon off and dropped it over the side of the bed.
The box sat before him, shiny blue paper reflecting the early morning sun onto the walls.
He pulled on it and it came free.
A Nintendo DSI and a game, he smiled, it was something he had asked for that he actually wanted; he had asked for so many other things he had forgotten he all about it.
There was another knock at the door.
"Joshua, I know you can hear me. Please open the door."
"GO AWAY" he screamed letting the anger flood out. "I hate you, go away"
He didn't like his Auntie; she didn't listen when he told her things. He always tried to make him eat his vegetables.
He had told his father that he hated her after he had stayed there for a weekend.
"Your auntie tries to help" he had started to explain "you should be nice to her"
"Don't want to be nice" he had shouted. He pushed over a cup of milk as he stormed past, stamping up the stairs to his room. He had never stayed with her again.
She had three children, two girls and one boy. They were all younger than him and they liked to play together. It made him sick.
They didn't even go to a Private school. It wasn't right that he should have to even talk to them. They had germs and such.
He shuddered at the thought of them, smiling and playing together.
He was an only child, something that he was very pleased about.
He didn't have to share; he didn't have to fight for attention.
He liked it just the way it was.
He looked at the box, slipping open the end he slid the console out.
It was black and cool looking, he had every other type of games console but he didn't play them.
He slid the game into the slot before he switched it on, it beeped and the screen blinked into life.
Fancy colours danced across the screen, he lay back and pressed Start.
A set of animals walked onto the screen as the intro ran, a goose and a horse, both dressed like cowboys.
"Howdie Partner" the goose said
Josh was surprised, most of the handheld games didn't have speech on them, but this was a new one so maybe they had updated it.
"If you want to play you need to answer a few questions before we start so we can set you up."
The horse smiled and waved.
"First question - Are you a boy or a Girl?" the characters stopped and waited for the reply.
"I'm a boy" he said as he looked for the button to press.
"A Boy you say" the goose nodded.
"I thought you where the first time I saw you."
Wow, he smiled, it must have a microphone.
"Question two" the horse hopped from side to side.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty" he lied, sometimes the games would give you more graphics if you where older.
"No your not" the goose shouted. "You're ten."
"Don't lie to us" the horse said. "That's bad"
He wondered how that was done, was it to do with the tone of his voice, or had it been registered already to him.
It would be just like his father to have done this, he usually stuck the stickers on all of his toys so he would be able to play with them straight away.
He stopped as he realised what his father had done. All this time he had thought his father didn't really have time for him. But when he thought back he was always the one who set the things up, or built the things he had asked for so he didn't have to.
He felt sad as he thought about all the times he had taken him for granted.
"Question three" he looked back to the machine, the thought dropped from his head.
"Why are you hiding in your bedroom?"
Strange question he thought. How does it know he is in his bedroom?
"Answer us Josh before the time runs out" the goose shouted.
The horse held up a stopwatch and it started to count down from five.
It reached two before Josh spoke.
"Because it's all my stupid fault that's why" he shouted at the machine
The characters stood silently looking out.
"What's your fault?" the goose asked.
He paused he could feel a something building behind his eyes, he tried to fight back but he had said it now.
"My parents are dead because of me" he said, a tear suddenly appearing in his eye.
"I killed them." He rubbed the tears away from his eyes
"You happy?" he tossed the machine to the corner of his bed and buried his head in the pillow.
Deep long sobs could be heard, tears of guilt ran down his face. 
It was at least fifteen minutes later that he stopped crying, he felt more exhausted than before. His cheeks hurt from the tears he had shed and his eyes were red.
"Are you OK Josh?" his auntie called as she knocked again on the door.
"Come down Josh. Please come out"
He ignored her, too tired to scream at her now, too tired.
His heart pumped in his chest as he thought about what he had said.
He felt it building up inside of him again, the pain.
If he hadn't insisted on coming home they would still be alive.
If he hadn't screamed his father would have maintained control of the car.
The console sat silently at the end of the bed, he didn't want to play it anymore. 
He didn't want to talk to the Goose and the Horse, or answer their stupid questions, his forehead throbbed, he was starting to feel tired again.
He sat at the side of his bed staring at the floor.
Standing up he slowly walked over to his desk and sat down, pulling the last gift from the back.
It was a small parcel but he didn't care anymore, he just wanted to take his mind of the feelings inside of him, the feeling of guilt that he didn't like.
"To my Josh, a special gift from Mummy"
He tore off the paper, a small radio type device dropped out.
Only about three inches long and one wide it had a microphone slot at the bottom and a speaker slot at the top, there was a record button and a play button, obviously some sort of recording device.
He pressed play.
"Joshua" it was his mothers voice, "We love you very much you know"
He gulped as he heard her voice, more tears welling up behind his eyes.
He wanted to run to her and hug her but that wasn't possible,
She lay downstairs in her coffin next to his father.
"And we miss you."
He put the voice recorder down on the table.
"I miss you too mother" he said as tears fell.
The door rattled, making the chair wobble as the handle jumped.
"Joshua." His auntie called.
"Joshua, come out. Your scaring me, I don't like it when you're quiet, say something at least. Joshua!!" she called.
He hated tablets, he didnt like the feeling as he swallowed them and all medicine tasted nasty.
He ignored her, hoping she would go away.
He pressed the play button again, wanting to hear his mother speak once more.
"It's not your fault you know" his mother said
"None of this is your fault honey. It was just an accident, you need to forgive yourself"
He sat up, staring at the machine, a small drool puddle being left on the table where he had rested his head.
How did his mother record the message?
It didn't make sense. Was she talking about something else that he had done, but is so why give it as a message on a Christmas present.
He reached forward to press play again but in his haste pressed record, accidentally wiping the message from the machine forever.
No matter how many times he shook it and pressed play it remained silent, his mother's voice gone from him forever.
Why would she say it wasn't his fault?
He was the one who had forced them to come home early. 
He was the one who had screamed and thrown his shoe, all because he wanted everything his way.
It was his fault, he knew it. Nothing could take that back.
He has a brat. No wonder his cousins didn't like to play with him. 
He looked round the room at all the toys and games he had. The majority of them had never been used, never opened.
He looked at the first one he could see, for two to four players.
The next was the same, and the next.
Some games were for two, others for four or more.
He dropped the boxes onto the floor, spilling their contents on the carpet.
He found one game that he could play alone, Solitaire.
And he didn't like that game, it was boring.
All the things he had didn't mean anything; everything was useless junk, bought for him because he had screamed until they did.
What was he left with now, with his parents dead he only had his auntie?
He walked back to the desk, kicking boxes as he went.
"Joshua" his auntie called again.
"You have twenty minutes before we leave. Then we will be gone and you won't have a second chance" she stormed of again.
He sighed to himself as he pulled the last box towards him, the first box he had put to the side.
The label read.
"Josh. I hope this it too your liking." It was from his Nanny.
He smiled, she was a soft spoken woman, who just seemed to tidy up after him when he made a mess. He pulled the ribbon free and opened the lid.
Inside sat another present, wrapped in a thinner cheaper paper; it had spacemen wearing Christmas outfits printed on it.
He lifted it out and tore the wrapping free, it was a book.
He turned it over to see the front cover
"Leaders of the World" it had pictures of presidents and wise men on the front.
He opened a page to see what was inside.
Boring stuff he thought as he turned the pages, Gandhi, Abraham Lincoln, and Churchill.
He stopped; a picture of his grandfather lay before him.
He stood outside of parliament shaking someone's hand; he looked just like he remembered him, tweed suit and a bowler hat, his moustache sat firmly on his lip and he held a cigar in his hand.
Joshua didn't recognise the woman he was talking to in the picture but he could remember the smell of the cigar, he could smell it around him as he looked at the picture of him.
Whenever he had gone to visit he had been smiling, always happy to see his grandson.
Joshua remembered learning how to play snap with him, they both laughed as they shouted when either won. He smiled at the picture; he had good memories of his grandfather.
He was the only one who had understood him; he thought about the time his parents had come home to tell him he had died.
Joshua hadn't cried, he never cried. But he felt the pain in his stomach that he felt now, it pressed against his lungs from the inside.
He touched the picture.
"I miss you Grandfather" he said, 
"I miss you too" 
He stopped, had he imagined that? It had sounded like his grandfather. But it couldn't be.
"Go away" he shouted at the door in case anyone was there, he looked round the room in case someone had got in; he could see a smoke haze on the air.
"Less of the shouting Josh" the voice said again.
"Grandfather?" the voice was close.
"Yes Josh. I'm down here" the voice said.
Joshua looked down; he could see the book and the picture below his hand, 
"I can't see you if your hand stays over my face can I?" he said.
He slowly moved his hand; inch by inch he let the picture show.
He looked at the picture. 
"Hello" his grandfather said, cigar smoke blowing from the page.
Joshua didn't know what to say. He stared at the page as he tried to fathom how it was done. He checked the back of the book for batteries but it was just a book.
He turned back to the image again.
"Finally, you finished messing around now?" he said quite firmly
Joshua swallowed hard, his mouth had gone dry.
"Yes." He said meekly, feeling slightly daft for talking to a book
"What's the matter with you Josh, hiding in your room like this?"
"Is that really you?"
"Forgotten me already have you?" he replied sharply.
"No, no it's not that grandfather" he stammered "It's just that I didn't think I would see you in a book"
"Ha" he laughed "It doesn't matter where I am, I am always with you. Though I do remember this picture being taken, that's Margaret Thatcher," he pointed to the woman next to him; she didn't appear to be able to move at all.
"She was the Prime minister at one time. She was someone who stood up to her responsibilities and did what she had to do weather right or wrong she made her choices and acted on them" his grandfather nodded as he put the cigar back into his mouth and took a deep breath before blowing the smoke out again.
"I need to stop these before they kill me again" he smiled.
"Now, what's the matter with you my boy?"
"I killed my parents." He admitted.
"I didn't mean to it was an accident but because of me they are dead." He started to sob again.
"Stop the crying." Grandfather shouted. "It won't help you. You're the man of the house now and that means you have to act like it. So stop it." He looked up at Joshua,
"You know your problem don't you?" he said, continuing before he had a chance to answer.
"Your problem Josh is that you're spoilt. You're a spoilt brat and you want everyone to feel sorry for you. Well it won't wash with me."
"But Grandfather" he tried to object but the pain in his head made him feel sick.
"I haven't finished. You may have caused the accident in the end but your parents are responsible too."
Joshua felt angry at that, even if he was his grandfather he wasn't allowed to blame his parents, not now.
"You needed to be put over their knee and spanked once in a while; it didn't do me any harm when I was a young one. They grew soft with you. I don't blame you for not standing up and being the man of the house, because of them you have no spine, your weak."
He started to feel stronger as his anger grew.
"You're not fit to be a man because of them. They mollycoddled you. Treated you like a baby. Thatcher didn't act like that; she was more of a man than you will ever be. She had balls. You stay up here and hide; you're an embarrassment to me."
"Stop it" he yelled, "Stop it, don't you talk about my parents like that, I don't care who you are. It's my fault they are dead, if it wasn't for me then we wouldn't have crashed."
"So" he smirked "What are you going to do about it? You can't bring them back"
"No I can't, but I can say goodbye, I owe them that. I've been horrible, your right, I have been spoilt I can see that now, my cousins don't have as much as me and their toys may be cheaper but they're better of, they have each other."
"And you're all alone" 
"No I'm not; I have my Auntie outside waiting for me. I missed your funeral but I won't miss my parents. They gave me everything I wanted, it's about time I gave something back. I don't like who I am" his voice grew as he spoke. Getting clearer and stronger the more he fought back against his grandfather.
He put the book down and walked to his clothing, as he slid the trousers on he could hear his grandfather calling.
"You don't need to go Josh, Stay here with me, we can play cards together"
"Shut up" he said, not shouting but being clear on the meaning.
"If you don't be quite I will close the book on you."
He buttoned his shirt and hesitated when he took his tie, his mother had always done his ties for him, he tried to remember, tried to visualise how it was done.
Round over, under though. He made it work, it wasn't on right but he didn't have time to waste any more.
As he slipped his socks on the console started to beep with loss of power.
Cheap toys don't last he thought.
Who needs them anyway?
The beeping continued as he put his shoes on and grabbed his jacket.
"Grandfather" he called to the book "I am going to prove you wrong, I am the man of the house and I will make my parents proud of me."
"I know you will Josh, I know, Say Hi for me"
The power was beeping as he walked to the door, he pulled the chair away.
"I am not the same child anymore" he said to himself, "I am not going to be selfish or rude, I am going to live each day for my parents."
He reached out to the handle, turning it the bright light from the hallway flooded in, blinding him, making him loose his balance he tripped over the book he had thrown at the start, the beeping of the game continued as he felt himself falling forward, falling to the floor.

He felt tired and embarrassed, the lights shone brightly down on him as he opened his eyes, the beeping continued loudly in his ear and he realised how hungry he was.
He tried to see but his eyelids felt heavy.
He was lying on his back, that much was clear; he could hear noises around him.
"Don't go" he called.
"He's awake, oh thank god he's awake" a voice shouted.
"That's my boy"
Bells started to ring and more voices could be heard.
He opened his eyes and looked into the worried face of his parents.
"Joshua. Can you hear us?" his mother called, tears running down her face.
"Mum?" he couldn't understand what was going on "Mum is that you?"
"Yes" she smiled "We thought we had lost you after the accident, how many times have we told you to wear your seatbelt"
Nurses appeared at his side.
"You've been asleep for six weeks; we didn't know what to do. The doctors suggested we should let you go but we didn't believe you would give up."
His father held his hand as Doctors shone lights in his eyes and tried to check his blood pressure.
"Mum, I'm sorry." He smiled. "Grandfather says hi"