Okay, well here's something i wrote at some point when I had too much time on my hands.

In the evening of the 14th of September Tony sat in his Manchester United adorned bedroom. Around him were posters of his sporting idols. David Beckham in his England shirt, signed by the great man himself, in a mahogany style frame in prime position above Tony’s head board. It was a birthday present from his parents. His 13th birthday. That great day when he transcended from being a child to the dizzy heights of a teenager. That was 364 days ago.

“ Would you like some tea love?” came a voice from behind Ryan Giggs. “I know you might not feel it right now, but you’ve got to eat. You mum’s getting worried ‘bout you.” Auntie Suzan. She’d solve the world’s problems with a cup of tea and a piece of carrot cake if she could. But she can’t. Nothing, not even Auntie Sue can sort his problem. Their problem. Tony stared out of the window at the Surburben Street where their house was. It was just another suburban street in Manchester. Lawns, trees, hedges. Everything. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed odd. But it was odd. It would always be odd to him now. “Come on luv, let me come in ‘n’ check you’re alright!”

“I fine, go away!” When would they learn, he would never be all right, not till he got his dad back. He slumped on his floor, tears flowing freely down his checks. Dad had always told him there was no shame in crying. It was not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength. “Why did you have to go dad? Why did you have to leave us?” He heard footsteps creeping back down the stairs. She didn’t want to share his grief. Dad was no relation to her. They never got on. She thought he wasn’t good enough for her baby sister. She thought he was lazy, why he didn’t even want a bigger house in the country like her and Uncle Glen. Dad was quite happy in a three-bedded semi, and that wasn’t good enough. Tony recovered his composure enough to laugh at that thought. Dad always seemed to get on the wrong side of the de Mauls, and mum loved him for it.

For the first time that day, Tony had the strength to look at the photo of the three of them. It was taken during their summer holiday to Tuscany. He was wearing his Man U shirt, plus sunglasses. He had wanted to go topless like his dad, but his mum had refused saying “You’re fair skinned and from Manchester luv. You’ll burn black in minutes”. She was beautiful. Her sky blue eyes beamed, and her freckles had been brought out by the sun, She was wearing an elegant sundress with dainty rose pink flowers. Around her was the tanned arm of her husband. John Colshaw was quite short at 5”8, but he was still the tallest in the picture. His auburn hair fell over part of his face, but nothing could hide his enormous smile. It jumped out of the frame. No matter who looked at the picture, it was his smile that people saw first. It occurred to Tony that he would never see that smile again. Mum said that they would see Dad again in heaven.

But when God takes your dad, how can you believe in him any more
It had only taken one day. One day to tear his world apart. He’d gone to school, just any other day. He hadn’t realized anything was wrong until he walked up to the house. Auntie Sue’s car was in the drive. Why was she here on a Tuesday? Perhaps she was dropping off his birthday present. No, she usually came over on his birthday, so he had to open it in front of her, and fake how much he really liked the book on stamp collecting, because it was what he always wanted. He put the key in the door, and the conversation that had been going on inside dropped like a stone. Through the glass in the door he could see his Aunt walking towards him, and behind her was his mum, with red eyes and tear stained checks. Sue opened the door and said quietly. “Hello luv, put your school stuff down and we’ll make a cup of tea.”

Looking back it all seemed like a dream. A horrible, horrible dream. In America, the land of hope and freedom, all his hopes had been destroyed. Terrorists had destroyed a big building, the World Trade Centre. Dad had been in the North Tower, trying to clinch a business deal. He was missing, presumed dead. His mother had sat there, silent like a doll. “Shock,” Auntie Sue had said, “your mother’s suffering from shock and we need to look after her.”

In his room, with the precious picture in his hands, Tony remembered the holiday. A bee had stung Mum, and Dad had put him in charge of administering the medicine to her. “You’re a man now son, I’m trusting you to look after your mom.” The words echoed in Tony’s head. He slowly opened the door and creaped to the top of the stairs. Below he could hear Auntie Sue’s course voice, and the clash of saucers as she got tea ready.

“He’s a fine lad, Laura, but I really wonder how he’s coping. Perhaps you should think about arranging some counseling for ‘im. I mean, it’s a lot for the young lad to cope with. Don’t worry about the money side of things. Glen and I can sort that out. Don’t you worry luv.”

Counseling! Tony didn’t need counseling. He needed his stuck up Aunt to leave him and his mum alone. It was her who needed counseling, thinking she could solve everybody’s problems with money. No money could bring Dad back. None! Tony wanted to scream. He ran down the stairs and into the front room where his mum was sitting. “I’ll look after you mum, Dad told me to! We don’t need Auntie Sue; we don’t need to be counseled. We don’t!!” Laura looked up at her son. He was so like his father. Football mad, and very handsome. Tony would be a magnet for girls, just like his father was. She sighed. She was so tired. She couldn’t sleep, and when she did close her eyes, but when she did, all she could see were the images from the TV. People jumping out of windows out of desperation. Her poor husband…. “Mum! Mum, please listen to me. I want to help you. Dad told me to look after you!” And there, in that sitting room Laura realized that she had lost her husband, half of herself, but she had not lost her son. Smiling, she took Tony in her arms, and tuned to her sister. “Thanks for the tea luv, but I think we’re going to be alright.”

Very good. Though we don’t see the characters for long, we do get to known them quite a bit, particularly, Auntie Sue. You’ve also given them vivid ‘voices’. The piece is very well developed; keeping us intrigued but not frustrating us when we don’t learn anything.

Now to be picky. Some of your longer sentences not only confused me, they also spent my spellchecker crazy. Also, I wonder if the first spelling of suburban is meant to incorrect or capitalised.

Not that either of those things matter. I’d put you through to the next round.