Toby Smart Trilogy

By Aaron D Phillips

ALL THREE OF THE TOBY SMART BOOKS IN ONE BOX SET.

'EXCITING, CHAOTIC, MOVING, AND BRUTALLY FUNNY'

This is the first book in the Toby Smart YA sci-fi trilogy.

Toby Smart is a bit of a loner. Having spent all his sixteen years living in the small Somerset village of Wickerton with his alcoholic mother, his life is about to be changed, in a big way. 

Strange things start happening to Toby that he can't explain, and people close to him start getting disposed of in increasingly mysterious ways. His relationship with best friend Luke is pushed to the limit and someone from his past is about to turn his world upside down. If this wasn't bad enough, aliens with chronic OCD are intent on sabotaging the lives of those closest to him for reasons he could have never imagined.

'ACTION-PACKED, EXCITING, AND RIOTOUSLY FUNNY'

Toby Smart and the Battle Of Urkan is the second book in the Toby Smart YA Sci-Fi trilogy.

After waking up on the alien planet Urkan, Toby, Luke and Sarah embark on a journey to find their lost friends. It won't be an easy task as the Dark One and his troopers unleash everything they have in an attempt to find them first. 

Relationships are once again tested as Toby and his friends find themselves caught in a conflict that could have devastating consequences for them and for those on Earth. Toby has to harness everything he has learned so far to do battle once again with deadly aliens and their chronic OCD. 

'EXPLOSIVE, FAST-PACED AND LACED WITH DARK HUMOUR'

Toby Smart and the Fight For Earth is the third and final book in the Toby Smart YA Sci-Fi trilogy.

Having woken up on Earth, Toby, Luke and Sarah were sure their battle with the Dark One and his band of obsessive-compulsive troopers was over. It soon becomes clear that's not the case as they are once again flung into a final fight that will determine humanity's future.

Toby is reunited with some old friends from Urkan as they take on the Dark One in a bloody battle for the very last time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaron D Phillips
• Release date: Nov 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386449799

Book preview

Chapter one.

'Toby! Toby!, come down quick'.

Toby tutted under his breath. What would it be this time he thought to himself?  He got up from his desk, and went to walk down the stairs of their two-up-two-down terrace at number 22 Greyson Avenue in the large village of Wickerton in rural Somerset.

'Toby!' came the cry again from downstairs.

Toby jumped two steps at a time knowing that he could end up as a crumpled heap at the bottom. He got to the foot of the stairs and walked in to their small box shaped living room to find his mum wedged between the ironing board and the sofa.

'Where have you been? I've been calling you for ages. Look, I seem to have got myself in a bit of a tight spot', her slightly slurred speech a hint that this may not have been an error of judgement.

'Mum, please tell me you haven’t been drinking again?'.

Lynne managed to rest one elbow on the ironing board and prop herself up enough to steady her feet.

'Toby, don’t talk rubbish, I’ve told you I stopped drinking months ago, it’s this bloody ironing board that’s in my way, just give me a hand to get up'.

In lurching forward to prove her sobriety she helped the ironing board on its way across the laminate flooring allowing her to land in a heap at Toby’s feet.

'Oh sod it, that hurt. Don't just stand there boy, help me up' complained Lynne, rubbing her back.

Toby pulled her up and placed her on the sofa.

'Pick me up a pack of fags when you're out' whispered Lynne as she shut one eye.

Toby went in to the kitchen to grab some money from the jar and walked back in to the lounge to find Lynne had already fallen asleep. Toby drew the curtains, pulled the front door shut, and headed out to find Luke.

Wickerton is a small village made up of two thousand residents and is a mix of eighteenth century terraced cottages, renovated barns and 1930’s bungalows. It’s an unassuming and quiet place that is split in two by the river Stoke that snakes its way through the village after bubbling out at the foot of the Lakemoor hills. The imposing hills themselves are the backdrop to Wickerton, stretching for ten miles east to west and peppered with grazing sheep and goats, small farms and disused stone quarries.

Most of the residents split their time between the traditional local pub The Anvil, which is decorated with flag stone floors, cosy crevices and an array of medieval weaponry, and the village shop, that is ran by retired postmistress Sally Anesty.

The large cul-de-sac that makes up Greyson Avenue is made up of working-class families, most of whom are unemployed, having struggled to find work since the local cheese factory closed its doors in the nearby town of Sibley seven years ago.

Toby Smart is sixteen years old, five foot ten, with shaggy shoulder length dark brown hair that nestles on top of his skinny frame. His large brown eyes are slightly sunken in to his sockets giving him a pale dishevelled look. Ever since he can remember he has lived with his mum Lynne in Greyson Avenue. Those sixteen years spent in relative loneliness have made Toby someone at ease with his own company, and he would often be found indulging in his love of woodwork, spending hours making wooden models. The other important thing in his life is his friendship with Luke Sayer.

Toby and Luke have been inseparable since they met over a sandpit at Wickerton pre-school as four year olds. Luke is also a lifelong resident of Greyson Avenue living two doors down with his dad and younger brother.

Gordon Cooper is 65 years old. He has spent all of his life living in the Somerset town of Sibley. His thinning hair is speckled with patches of grey and his gravity-defying glasses are permanently perched at the end of his ample nose.

Gordon teaches woodwork at Burndown secondary school. The school is located in the centre of Sibley; a large market town drenched in grey and uninspiring office blocks, and a collection of identical council estates.

The town centre is often populated by the unemployed, old people out shopping and charity collectors. Most of the shops are boarded up or covered in graffiti, giving off an atmosphere of mundane and despair. Burndown School doesn’t do much to buck that trend either with a trail of below-par government inspections under its belt, and classrooms full of students who would rather draw lewd additions to the anatomy pictures in the Biology books than think about life past eighteen. Gordon has been the woodwork teacher at Burndown longer than most of the biology books themselves and has gained the respect of even the most unruly of students. One of his favourite students is Toby Smart. His keen interest and obvious talent in woodwork certainly makes him stand out amongst the rest of his largely uninterested classmates, and Gordon, having no children himself, feels a sense of responsibility towards him.

'Hey Toby!' came the recognisable shriek from Luke, who was running down Greyson Avenue laden with groceries from the village shop, including some of Sally’s home-made carrot cake.

Toby stopped walking and perched himself on the front wall of number 36. A red faced Luke caught up with him, bits of his long blonde hair stuck to the beads of sweat rolling down his cheek.

'Hey man, where are you going?' he said opening the bulging carrier bag in his left hand. 'Look, I’ve managed to persuade Sally to let me have a couple of cans of lager, told her they were for my dad. Mate, she’s so hot'.

This managed to bring a smirk to Toby’s face. Sally Anesty was definitely very hot; he’d had a bit of a crush on her for as long as he can remember, her long blonde hair, big blue eyes and almost inhuman breasts had long made her the fascination of every young boy in Wickerton, the fact she baked amazing carrot cake made her seem even more attractive.

'Where are you going anyway?' said Luke hoisting himself up on number 36’s wall. 'Hey, have you been crying?'.

Toby quickly rubbed away any signs that he had been upset.

'No, it’s just, you know, stuff with mum again'.

'Ah, I’m sorry mate, I didn’t realise...are you ok? Did she try and put the cat in the microwave again?' said Luke as he opened a can of cheap lager, spraying it across the pavement.

'Not this time no' said Toby, acknowledging that their cat Millie had been mistaken for a joint of lamb a couple of times before.

'She got so off her face that she couldn’t even bloody stand up. I had to literally pick her off the floor and put her on the sofa’.

Toby then pulled the other can from the bag, lightly spraying the pavement as he opened it. He took a long swig whilst looking out over the roof tops of Greyson Avenue at the Lakemoor hills in the distance. They seemed to take the appearance of a dark cloud, rising out of the backs of the terraced houses, reaching up to grab at the moon.

After drinking half a can of cheap lager Toby started to feel a bit better, quickly followed by a feeling of guilt; alcohol had completely ruined his mum’s life and here he was getting half-drunk himself. Toby longed more than anything else, for his mum to be ‘normal’. He looked back down at the empty can of lager thinking if there was any way that he could adopt Sally Anesty as his mum instead. Getting to see those breasts every morning would improve his life massively he thought.

'Luke?'.

'Yes mate?' slurred Luke after polishing off his third can of lager.

'You know that...well, you know, you’re a good mate and all that, right’? Luke looked out the corner of his eye suspiciously.

'How many cans have you had?' he said whilst opening another one.

'Not many. I was just thinking how cool it would be to have Sally as a mum'.

Luke smiled. 'That would be awesome. I don't think I would ever stop breastfeeding'. Toby laughed, lent back on the wall and looked at Luke.

'You know I think you're a good mate, and I'm glad you're around'.

'Whatever knob head' said Luke. Toby smiled to himself. Luke was an arse, but at least he was a reliable one.

Chapter two

7:15am on Monday morning and Gordon Cooper is sat in his kitchen having already been out to collect his daily newspaper. The kitchen itself hasn’t moved forward much from the 1980’s with its brown cupboard doors, ageing electric cooker and woodchip walls. He poured himself a cup of tea that had been brewing for the last fifteen minutes.

'Morning love, how did you sleep?'.

Gordon's wife Margaret came and sat beside him and also poured herself a tea. After a long marriage with no children, they both lived a quiet and contended life splitting their time between gardening and walks in the Lakemoor hills. He turned and gave his wife of forty one years a peck on the cheek.

'I didn't sleep great to be honest. I woke up a few times worrying about that poor chap Toby'. Gordon sat back in his chair and let out a sigh.

'I’m getting quite concerned about him you know; I noticed in class last week that he is looking even more withdrawn. There was something else I saw as well...' he stopped, took a sip of tea and turned to Margaret with a worried look.

'Now, I could be wrong, but I spotted a red mark on the side of his neck, yes I know, it could be nothing, but it’s really playing on my conscience and I’m not sure what to do'.

Margaret put her hand on Gordon’s shoulder, squashing his cheek with her bouffant permed hair.

'If you’re really that concerned about him why don’t you have a word with him after class today?'.

Gordon nodded in agreement.

'I knew there was a reason I married you' said Gordon leaning in to kiss her.

'There is more than one reason you scamp, and you don't deserve a kiss for that' joked Margaret and she pulled back from his advancing kiss. As she did so her large earring caught on Gordon's hair pulling him across the table, landing his nose in the pot of hot tea.

'Oh my!' he shouted as he jumped up, knocking Margaret backwards towards the sink.

'I'm so sorry love, are you ok?' asked Gordon as he went to pull Margaret's bottom out of the washing up bowl.

'Yes I'm fine dear; your nose is very red though'.

Gordon wiped the drips of tea from his nose and sat back down at the table.

'I think I'll buy you some new earrings for Christmas'.

He kissed Margaret on the cheek, carefully avoiding her earring and gathered up his notes for the day and started the twenty minute walk to Burndown School determined to try and help Toby.

Burndown secondary school is nestled between the edge of the Nesbitt housing estate and the overgrown industrial site that was the former cheese factory. The school is a sprawling collection of grey buildings that are full of dodgy paintwork and unreliable electrics.

The rain is lashing down as Toby and Luke are stood at the bus stop opposite the post office in Wickerton, waiting for the 8:15 bus to take them the short drive to school. Toby has the hood on his raincoat pulled tight around his head with just a few damp curls of hair hanging over his eyes. He felt like death warmed up having only had a couple of hours sleep, mostly due to his mum being up all night drinking with a few drop-outs from the village.

'You reckon we could win it this year mate?' said Luke without looking up from his shoes, 'Yeah, I don't know, I've heard a few of the guys in class have got some pretty good designs this year'.

Burndown School have a competition ever year allowing the woodwork students to come up with their own design which will be judged by a panel of local art critics. Toby or Luke haven't won for three years, but Toby quietly knew they had both come up with some pretty good designs this time around and couldn't wait to see the look on Mr Cooper's face if one of them would were to be announced as the winner.

A rattly drone signalled the arrival of the number 8 bus, letting off a cloud of smoke as it pulled up half full of kids from the outer villages. Toby and Luke took their usual seats at the front of the bus for the drive out through Wickerton and across the moor to Sibley. Whilst Luke's eyes were glued to the two girls in the year above who were sat opposite, Toby stared out at the fields wondering why the rain never bothered the cows who sat there contently chewing the grass. For a brief moment he wished he was a cow.

'Careful you bloody idiot!'

Having stood up quickly to allow the old lady sat behind to get past; Luke had managed to upturn a bag of shopping that had been stored in the hold above, showering the first four rows of the bus in golden delicious apples.

As the bus turned in to the car park of Burndown School a rogue apple rolled down the aisle ending in up the foot well.

'I'm going to nip out to the canteen for a sandwich before assembly, meet you in there?' said Luke as he hopped out of the bus.

'Yeah that's fine mate, I'll um, see you in there’.

Ever since Toby had started at Burndown there had been one person who had made his life a misery from day one: Carl Lane. He has lived in Sibley all his life with his mum and dad in a terraced house on the Nesbitt estate. He was six foot three, had the build of a rugby player, with short cropped blonde hair that stopped just before his enormous ears. His close friends called him 'wing-nut', but no-one else would dare call him that, instead opting for the far safer 'Carl'. He took an instant dislike to Toby from the first time he saw him. A school day wouldn't pass without a shove, push, or some remark about the way he looked. Toby did the best he could trying to avoid Carl by making sure he was the first in to class and the last one to leave, and by spending as many breaks as he could sat in the library.

As Luke scurried off towards the canteen, Toby made his way through the main entrance trying to mingle in with the students who were heading towards the hall for morning assembly. Just as he was about to walk through the main door he felt a sharp smack on the back of his head. He looked down to see half a large rubber on the floor; he glanced up to see Carl with a couple of his friends laughing to themselves.

'Why do you let that asshole get away with it?'.

Toby looked sideways to see an attractive girl looking back at him with a confused look. He knew her face and the fact that she was in the same year as him, but that was about it, she'd certainly never spoke to him before.

'Yeah, he's just an idiot, he doesn't really bother me' said Toby, lying.

'Well, the guys a meat-head with the brains of a Turkey' whispered the pretty blonde as they sat down on the dusty assembly room floor.

Toby smirked back at her and nodded in agreement, then spent the next twenty minutes thinking how he could ask what her name was without sounding like a complete moron.

'So, um, do you like woodwork?'.

She threw her head back laughing out loud.

'Ha, no! That's for losers!'.

Toby, conscious of the other assembly leaver’s attention being drawn to them both went a bit red and looked to the floor.

'Oh...I guess you do then?' she said a bit more quietly.

'I don't mind it, and Mr Cooper's pretty cool as well' whispered Toby.

'Ah, I love Mr Cooper. He's so nice, even with his massive nose'.

They both laughed as they made their way down the corridor towards the playground.

'I've gotta shoot off this way as I've got double-maths, Toby isn't it? I'm Sarah, catch you later.'

Toby's heart jumped a little as her hair flicked back as she turned and walked towards the playground.

'Yeah, Toby, see you later' he said leaving it too late to be in earshot.

He rushed to meet Luke who was waiting for him outside their English class. They both took their seats at the back before the other students got there.

'Why are you smiling so much, it's bloody English' said Luke as he took his books out.

'I know, I just spoke to a girl called Sarah, and...'

'And what?! Hurry up. Is she in to woodwork as well?' said Luke now perched on the end of his seat.

'Not quite, but she's cool, I really like her'. Luke sat back in his chair with a wry smile.

'You gonna ask her out?'.

Before he had a chance to reply the rest of class came in through the door and started taking their seats. Toby got out his textbooks and slouched back in his chair and thought about the slim chance there was of Sarah actually being interested in him.

Chapter Three

Having hopped off the bus and said bye to Luke, Toby started walking back to Greyson Avenue with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, not knowing what state his mum would be in when he opened the door. He stopped at the front door and took a deep breath. 'Mum, are you home?'.

No answer. He closed the front door and walked in to the lounge.

'Mum? Mum!'.

Still no answer. Toby chucked his bag on the sofa and went in to the kitchen where he saw his mum slumped over the kitchen sink. He rushed over putting his arm around her shoulders to pull her face out of the sink when she suddenly swung around and punched Toby right in the jaw, knocking him to the floor against the cooker.

'What the hell are you doing? Don't touch me!' screamed Lynne as she struggled to steady herself against the table.

Toby couldn't believe what had just happened; she had never hit him like that before. He slowly got to his feet holding his jaw which was stinging like mad.

'Sorry mum, I didn't mean to... I was trying to help you up'.

'I don't need your bloody help, I'm fine as I am, and stop holding your face, and I hardly touched you'.

Toby didn't say anything; he just ran upstairs to his room and curled up on his bed, slamming the door behind him.

'Get out of my way you stupid animal or else I'll put you in the microwave again' shouted Lynne from downstairs between the sound of smashing plates. Toby pulled the covers over his head and tried to go to sleep.

'Morning son'.

A burst of sunshine hit Toby's face as Lynne yanked back the curtains and put a plate of toasted crumpets and a cup of tea on his bedside table. Toby pulled the duvet tight over his face not wanting his mum to see his face.

'I may be out when you get home from school tonight, but I've done you up some stew which you just have to heat up in the microwave later, ok?'.

‘Yeah, fine'.

Lynne looked around the bedroom. 'It's about time you had a tidy up in here too, and get rid of some of these old pieces of wood will you?’

Toby had a million things he wanted to scream back at her but nothing would come out. 'Right, I'll see you later then' said Lynne as she pulled his bedroom door shut and went downstairs.

Toby got out of bed and sat in front of his mirror looking at the large brown bruise that covered the bottom of his jaw and neck. He put on his school uniform and wrapped a scarf around his neck that was high enough to cover the bruise. He felt physically sick at the thought of going to school, but he had to find out if he had won the competition, but then an awful thought hit him: what if he bumped in to Sarah? He would avoid her and as many people as he could today, just to get the day over with he thought.

Walking to the bus stop he felt that every person was staring at him.

'Toby, wait up'.

His spirits lifted slightly as he turned to see Luke running up the road with a tightly wrapped package under his arm.

'Is that what I think it is?' said Toby pointing down at it.

'Yep, this is what's going to win us our prize' said Luke as he pulled out a wooden shape that didn't really resemble anything.

'I can't wait to impress the judges later with this beauty' said Luke bouncing on the spot.

Toby still had no idea what it was meant to be, but thought he would humour him, 'Yeah, it looks, um, great'.

As they walked in to the school building Toby was conscious of anyone seeing his bruise so he kept his scarf wrapped around his neck and his collar up.

'Hey Toby!' came a recognisable voice from behind him.

He felt his stomach turn as he knew that was Sarah's voice, but there was no way that she could see him like this. He pretended not to hear her and carried on walking towards assembly.

'Toby! Wait up!'.

He decided to walk a bit faster and felt something grab his scarf. Turning around he saw Sarah's face frowning at him.

'Are you deaf?! I shouted at you twice!'.

'Sorry, I, er, didn't hear you'.

She then went to grab his scarf.

'Why are you wearing that? It's not even that cold'.

Toby snatched the scarf back before it had a chance to slip too much.

'I'm just feeling a bit rough today; think I have a temperature...sorry, I've got to go' said Toby as he turned around and went to run up the corridor.

He didn't notice that one of the corridor locker doors was slightly open, which caught his scarf as he turned; leaving it sprawled across the floor. Without thinking he pulled his collar up as far as it would go and ran to the toilets at the far end of the building, locking himself in an empty cubicle.

He sat there for about ten minutes just staring at the back of the graffiti littered door, looking at the ground as if he was waiting for it to swallow him up. He pulled out a pen from his jacket and started to write on the back of the toilet door. After the line that offered fun times with Natalie he wrote: 'hate' and underneath wrote the words, 'Mum, Carl, school, home, Dad, life'. He then wrote 'love' and underneath that wrote: 'Luke, Sarah' and 'Mr Cooper'. He then went to rub out the love section but the ink just smeared on the door, leaving a blotchy mess. Wiping tears from his eyes Toby went to unlock the door and headed for assembly, knowing there would probably be a detention waiting for him for being late.

Gordon Cooper was busy getting all the pupil's wooden designs set up in the class room for the judging that was due to take place later that morning. He was rather excited about it as he thought some of his pupils had a very good chance of winning a placement with the Arts college this year, particularity with Toby's design – he was so proud of the work that he'd put in over the past year, and was sure it would all pay off today. Snapping him out of his trail of thought was the slamming open of the classroom door as students began milling in to class. 'Ok everyone, do come in quietly please and take your seats' said Gordon loud enough to be heard. 'You will find that I have split the tables in to your various groups with individual name cards, just in case you forget which group you were in'.

Gordon was keeping an eye on the door and spotted Toby slip in quietly and take up his seat next to Luke in the corner table which was nestled between an old typewriter he couldn't bear to throw away and a pile of wood chippings. He didn't look up from the desk and barely acknowledged anyone, which Gordon found alarming considering he had been looking forward to this day for months.

'Right ladies and gentlemen, as you are all aware, today is the day you've all been waiting for' said Gordon as he took his place at the front of the class.

'This is how it's going to work: each one of you will have your individual designs judged by a panel of lecturers from the Arts College, who will then determine who's design scores the highest on craftsmanship and originality, with the pupil who receives the highest score winning a place at the college next year'.

'I can't wait to see Toby's crap' shouted Carl from the table at the front; the collection of giggles from the class made him sit back in his chair smugly.

'I would say you shouldn't cast any judgements until the class sees your effort Mr Lane'. Gordon darted a look over at Toby who was still sat in the corner with his collar upturned and his eyes fixed on his desk.

'Right, if you all want to stand by your designs then I will go and fetch our judging panel'. Carl begrudgingly got up from his seat and made his way to the where Toby was sat.

'What's the matter with you Smart? Did your mum dress you again this morning?' hissed Carl grabbing Toby's collar.

'Get off and leave me alone' said Toby as he tried to push off Carl's arm.

'Look at the state of your jacket. Don't s'pose you can afford decent clothes as your mums smashed all the time and sleeping with all the villagers'.

Toby felt a tidal wave of rage building up in him but didn't move.

'I said leave me alone Carl' as he tightened his grip on his arm knowing that the slightest slip of his collar would reveal his bruise to the whole class.

'Do you know that your mum's been seen in the park looking through the bins for booze? She's a dirty tramp. A dirty, alchy tramp'.

Feeling that he was going to explode in tears, Toby shot up out of his chair surprising Carl in to releasing his grip and ran out of the class as quick as he could knocking in to Mr Cooper and the five judges walking in.

'Toby? What's going on?'.

Toby didn't turn around to answer but ran as fast as he could down the corridor towards the main entrance. As he flung the doors open he knocked over the dinner lady who was carrying a tray full of hot tea.

'Oh my goodness!' shrieked the dinner lady as four cups of hot tea came cascading on to her blue rinse perm. Toby didn't look back to see the carnage but kept running towards the school gates.

Chapter four

After what felt like of an hour of solid walking Toby had found himself at the edge of Underwood quarry which sits on top the Lakemoor hills, four miles from Burndown School. The quarry had been disused for some years, but more recently had been used by an electronics firm in Silbey as a storage facility. The four sides of the quarry are sheer drops of 150 feet with a flat surface that is littered with storage cabins and old vans. Toby walked to the side of the quarry and without thinking scaled the seven foot fence that had been erected around the perimeter.

He sat on the grassy verge near the quarry edge looking down the vertical drop at the vans sat at the bottom, which reminding him of the toys he had when he was ten. He pulled down his collar, wincing as he felt the tenderness of his bruised jaw and neck. Wondering if Luke had followed him, he looked over his shoulder to see that no one was around, and all he had for company was a pigeon that was perched nearby looking at him quizzically.

'It's alright for you' said Toby in the direction of the pigeon, 'at least you can fly off anywhere you want', which it then proceeded to do, in a gracious swoop towards the bottom of the quarry and back up the opposite cliff, perching itself on top of it looking back at Toby. He was in awe of the freedom that birds had to go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

He then stood up feeling the light breeze hitting the back of his neck and thought about what he had left to live for.

He pulled out a pen and a scrap bit of paper from his pocket and wrote 'hate' and 'love' again on either side of the paper. Under 'hate' he wrote ' Mum, Carl, school, home, Dad, life' and then scrawled 'Luke' at the bottom. Underneath Luke's name he wrote, 'where are you? Why didn't you stick up for me?'. Under the love header he just wrote 'Mr Cooper' and then Sarah, followed by a question mark. She probably doesn't even like me in that way anyway he thought, and why would she?

He took a step closer the edge of the quarry looking across at Sibley and the villages beyond. The horizon was dotted with specks of brightness as people switched on their indoor lights. He thought about his dad for a moment. Fifteen years had gone by and he'd not even bothered to come back and see if he was ok. Toby wondered what he was doing now and whether he would care. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but all he could see was Sarah's face. What would she say to me right now if she was here he thought? Probably jump. Why would she care about me? I'm just a nobody.

Everything was completely silent as he closed his eyes tightly and allowed himself to fall forward in to the quarry. He could hear the air whooshing past his ears and was waiting for it all to be over, hoping that he wouldn't feel anything. A few seconds past and nothing had happened. Was that it? Was he dead? Is this what it feels like? Everything sounded deadly silent around him but he couldn't feel his body, in fact he couldn't move at all.

He decided to slowly open his eyes, not sure what he would see when he did. All he could see at first was a large expanse of red. Surely he must have survived and he was looking at a pool of his own blood he thought, but when his eyes cleared he realised he was looking straight down at the roof of one the red vans at the bottom of the quarry, which was six inches from the end of his nose. He tried to move his arms, but couldn't, nor could he move his legs. Frozen in terror he tried to shout for help, but no sound came out of his mouth.

Completely disorientated and confused he tried to lift his head to see what had happened to him, but he could only move his eyes to see the roof of the van. His mind was being hit by a multitude of thoughts: Why haven't I hit the ground? What the hell is keeping me in the air? Ever so slowly Toby felt himself move away from the van and start to rise back up the quarry. Still there was no sound from anywhere, not even the birds.

He tried to move his limbs but nothing would work. He tried to shout out but still silence. Now he has halfway up the quarry, and could see the sun setting on the horizon and various street lights starting to come on in Sibley, but the quarry was completely dark below him and the silence was deafening.

As he reached the top of the quarry he felt his body turn backwards towards the vertical position and watched the ground become closer and he was lowered back on the lane outside the perimeter fence, and crumpled to the ground in shock. Not believing what had just happened, Toby started to pat his legs, back and head to check if anything had been attached to him.

Stumbling to his feet Toby ran back towards the quarry edge to see if there was anything that he may have got caught on; a wire, some cabling maybe, but there was nothing. He stood staring in to the quarry for a few minutes trying to take in what had just happened. Suddenly Toby felt an overwhelming feeling of terror and had an urge to get away from the quarry fast, so he picked up his school bag and ran back to Wickerton as quick as he could.

'Oh my word, you look terrible!' said Margaret as Gordon Cooper walked in to the kitchen and slumped in to the chair with a worried look on his face. 'Did you manage to speak to Toby to find out what has been going on, love?'. She placed a cup of steaming tea in front of him.

'I didn't get a chance' sighed Gordon taking a sip, 'there was an issue in class today before we had a chance to start performances, that unpleasant boy Carl Lane said something that embarrassed Toby at the start of class, and the poor fellow looked completely vacant'. Margaret poured herself a tea, keeping her hair and earrings a safe distance from Gordon. 'Oh, the poor boy. That Carl sounds a really unsavoury chap, I hope you gave him a detention'. 

'Of course. I hate bullying and won't tolerate it.