Minnie had been named after her Great-Grandmother. Grandma Minnie died 2 days before Minnie’s birth, so in turn her parents felt obliged to respect their dead relative by naming their new-born child after this lady. And so Minnie came to be, though, it being an odd name and rather old-fashioned, Minnie’s friends, family, and anyone who she happened to come across referred to her purely as ‘Min’. Which, as far as nicknames go wasn’t too garish or loud so to Minnie didn’t seem such a bad one to have.
Minnie often liked to observe, she could spend hours staring out of her bedroom window onto the fairly un-eventful, un-interesting street below. Minnie’s family couldn’t understand why she would ever want to spend her time doing this, and would often beg her to play with dolls and run around outside like the other children, but Minnie always insisted she would much rather watch from the inside as the day went by outside. This watching out the window was for the most part, inconsequential. Sometimes Minnie would happen to see the neighbouring couple squabbling before entering the house, or would watch as the teenage boy from around the corner fell off his bike while attempting a wheelie (something Minnie doubted he would ever be able to do, although secretly hoped he would never give up). While Minnie sat and watched these things, they never accounted for much.
When Minnie turned nine, her mother and father presented her with a compact camera. She was delighted and from then on, not only watched the street, but opened the window as wide as it would stretch and snapped photo after photo of the view below. No-one ever seemed to notice as Minnie watched them from above, zooming in on their life. Careful not to ever use the flash, these photos gave Minnie more insight into people’s lives than they cared anyone to know.
One Sunday morning, when Minnie was 17, a tall man walked sheepishly down the street of Minnie’s house. He was a young man, early twenties, short black hair, and scruffy clothes, with a nervous scowl on his face. ‘Snap’. The man looked around him, obviously anxious, he was well on guard. The street was quiet, it being fairly early most of the neighbours were still in bed or lazily going about their morning routine behind closed curtains. The man crossed the street, kicking at a pigeon on his way across. Minnie decided to get dressed, but as she turned away she heard 3 loud thuds, shocked by the noise she turned back to the window. The man was now outside number 32, banging on the door with one hand, other hand deep in his pants pocket, Minnie watched intently as the man rocked impatiently outside the door. As soon as it opened he forced himself through, slamming the door behind him.
Concerned, Minnie attached her camera to the tripod and changed the setting to record and listened intently, by now the street was slowly waking up. Next door Mr Gujarat returning from his night shift, looked up at Minnie in the window, and scowling walked moodily into his house. But neither he nor the woman and her child leaving for church just next door to 32 heard the sounds coming from with-in. Minnie listened closer still, head stretching out the window. She could only hear the odd shout, a smash of pot on the floor. Worried, she pulled on the hoodie left lying on her desk chair and slipped into the flip-flops by her door. Leaving the camera, which was still recording, Minnie crept downstairs, and, disabling the house alarm she slowly left the house, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her.
It was cold outside, not unbearably, but the chill still clung to Minnie legs. Slowly, she walked the path from the door to her gate, but before she could open it, ‘BANG!’ Minnie flinched and then froze. Screaming was now coming from number 32, and before Minnie could move the door swung open and out ran the man from before. Minnie dived behind the wall beside her, crouching down she tried not the breath as she heard the man run fearlessly down the road. The man dove into the white van sitting at the end of the road and with a load screech accelerated off around the corner. Minnie, now grasping her nerve shot up, leapt over the wall and ran towards number 32, the door still ajar she ran in to find the owner of the house, Emily Jones, lying screaming in agony in the centre of the hallway, clutching her chest.
“Help me!” she exclaimed.
Minnie, recovering from the shock of the sight went over her and kneeled beside her.
“It’s okay I’m here”, Minnie managed to muster up these quiet words before grabbing the phone lay cracked beside the woman. It was thankfully still working, Minnie called for an ambulance. Running into the kitchen she grabbed a tea towel, and then once back in the hallway placed it on the woman’s wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
The rest, to Minnie, was a blur. Soon after neighbours turned up and took over, eventually the ambulance and police arrived, then Minnie was left, sitting in shock on the curb outside. After being told by the police they would be around later to question her, Minnie’s parents took her inside, making her change out of her blood stained night clothes. Alone in her room Minnie lay on the bed, and, still in shock, drifted into a daze.
“Beep beep beep”
The noise woke her from her daydream, getting up Minnie went and looked at the camera, ‘Memory Card full’. All of a sudden Minnie realised she had left it recording, and it had only just stopped. Taking the camera off the tripod, Minnie looked at the content, with a glowing smile she hurtled out of the room and skipped down the stairs.
‘Inquisitive Girl saves Woman’s life and helps put Scum in Jail’, though dismayed at the word ‘scum’ (in Minnie’s opinion, the front page of a local paper wasn’t a place for opinions), Minnie was secretly delighted. She paid for the over-priced publication and left the store, feeling more significant to the rest of the world today than she had on any other day in her life. That day a bunch of flowers had arrived sent from Emily Jones- ‘To Min, Thank you so much, you saved my life, Em’. According to the doctor if the bleeding hadn’t been stopped as soon as it was Emily Jones would have died. Without the picture of the man, ‘Ben Smith’ and the footage of him storming and fleeing the house, he couldn’t have been arrested and charged. As the police were telling Minnie this, her Mother clutching her, sobbing, a little in pride but more likely because emotions her emotions were running high, Minnie smiled weakly and politely shook the officer’s hand.
Minnie watched non-committedly as her Mother framed the newspaper clipping, listening as she complained how the word ‘inquisitive’ implies Minnie was nosy. Minnie didn’t care, she was nosy and it had apparently saved someone’s life. Later on, back in her room, Minnie once again stared through the window, though this time; she concentrated her gaze on the boy next door but one as he laid reading on the grass.
