a short story, a description, a character

sorry for the lack of any new posts. i’m working on a book and writing a short film at the moment, so i apologize in advance for the upcoming emptiness.

staring at the exit sign
as if i can leave this world behind
escape through that open door
and disappear forevermore

And there are fireworks
and i can hear people celebrating
but i’m at home
in front of the TV
with a cup of tea

The New Year has begun
but i’m not getting drunk
The New Year has begun
and i feel no different

the rain is still falling
and my movie marathon uninterrupted
The world keeps turning
fires keep burning

and i’m still all alone
by myself, on my own.

Christmas. Well, almost Christmas. We have 4 days to go.
Every newspaper article/joke/news report right now seems to include something about insane, fanatic Christmas shoppers. I don’t understand. All you need to do is make a list of things to buy for your closest friends/family, and purchase various boxes of shortbread or chocolate for anyone else that you see around Christmas time. Or even make things yourself. Remember, it’s the thought that counts!

I have to say, I do love Christmas. We bought our tree just the other day, and my friend and I had to carry it home from the supermarket. We sure were a sight walking down the main street! I couldn’t wait to decorate it.
An hour later and it was covered in tinsel with Christmas ornaments hanging in uneven clumps. I felt very proud of myself when someone commented on how great the fairy lights looked. I had wrapped them around the tree all by myself.

At 14, I seem to be one of the only teenagers I know that still loves Christmas. Whether people are just saying that Christmas is boring to be cool, or if they actually are over it, I don’t know.
I wonder if I will hate Christmas by this time next year. I sincerely hope not.

As it creeps closer and closer towards the 25th of December I can feel my excitement mounting. That is the best part of Christmas. Not the presents, the food, or even the Christmas tree. The waiting, the expectation. Not even waiting for the presents, just waiting for Christmas day. That shock that runs through you when you wake up on Christmas morning and realise that today is, in fact, Christmas morning. That plain, pure joy. It makes me feel as if I am 6 years old again. It feels so much more carefree and fun than being 14.

Merry  Christmas everybody.

xoxo

and i cant see, and salty droplets are running down my cheeks, and everything is blurred, everything, everything.

I’m not just shivering from the cold. An icy hand has gripped my heart.

she dived into the churning waters below, and did not reappear.

Today is too hot to concentrate. Tensions are running high. The slightest disagreement turns into a war. I want to go to the beach. To dive in the sea, a luxury i can’t have right now. As we sit in groups, teacher watching us, scowling. Her croaky voice cracks the still, humid air, screeching. We are told to ‘keep our voices down’ and ‘stay on topic’.

The boiling heat makes it hard to breathe. the air is so still. Sweat, drips off foreheads, onto papers, handwriting becomes blurred.

The clock moves so slowly. Sometimes, it doesn’t move at all.

My bare thighs stick to the chair. I gently stretch my legs, and they unstick.

Most of the class has gone to get things or whatever, I don’t know. I stand up and stretch, and move away from the table. I lie face down on the floor, my head turned. I stare out the floor to ceiling window and see the sun, the sun scorching and burning. The grass, once so green, reduced to patches of prickly yellow points.

The carpet I’m lying on feels all bristly, but it looks soft. I can feel my body expanding over the ground as I shift my position.

Looking at the room from a sideways angle, I listen to the chatter. Groups of tables, placed roughly in the corners of the small room, with the teachers table up the front and a small amount of space in the middle. The teacher walks between the groups, but i think she has given up on us.