#Oh Crap...

So this morning, when I woke up, my first thought? YAY! It's the end of term! I was ecstatic until I rembered that I needed to write out my English essay - what a good idea, I managed to pick the longest one. But no worries, I could do it on the bus, problem solved.
Wrong.
It never occured to me how many flipping country roads my bus actually goes along and country roads = bumps, potholes and ditches. : Damn it. But still I managed it eventually by, erm, not paying attention in house singing... *awkward cough* ... and lying to my english teacher...
But that's not the point. It was while I was doing it that the wave of realisation hit me. We have GCSE's in about two months. Less than that, I have three weeks to prepare for two orals, the absolute bane of my life. Even less than that, I'll be sixteen in just a week and for me that means responsibility, maturity and knowing what the hell I'm going to do with my life. Like I can decide that by next Friday.
And now begins the parental nagging to "make your revision plan", "stop being lazy, revise" and, in the case of my mother, "do some fucking revision!"
Woo. Hoo.
:|

#Drama...

Oh. My. Gosh.
That really is all I can say about today. The hysterics over nothing, followed by the attempts at being depressed, all the time worrying about where props were, how we were going to do make up and general what-not.
For all the fun we have in drama it's foooookin scary when we have to go out and perform. Wait, no, scratch that. It's scary before. When you have to wait backstage for the applause that means you're next. That's when the butterflies are going like crazy. Then you're up on stage and everything just flies by - somehow you remember what you're supposed to be doing, where you're going, what to say.
Obviously things go wrong. Like tech stuff.....*grr* but even then you're still running on adrenaline and everything seems to fall into place.
Yes, we had a drama exam today. A moderated one at that. For our GCSEs. Now it's over, I want to go back and do it all again. All of it. I hate the pre-performance panic but the nerves actually help because they stop you from over-thinking while you're doing it.
But yeah, all of it gave me such good memories. Devising, "practicing", performing, watching, teching - everything about it makes me more and more certain that I will never ever stop doing drama. Somehow, one way or another, I want to be in a theatre, working, performing, watching, I don't care but the whole atmosphere - I just fall in love with it.

Our group - well, I think it's fair to say our piece was not what you'd call normal - but it was amazing. It worked, and what's more my reliable source said it worked well. ^_^ YAY. I actually love you guys so much for filling the past three months with the most fun drama lessons I've ever had.
And god, everyone else who performed - you were immense. It's so nice just to sit and watch my closest friends get up and show off their amazing acting skills and then be able to watch more good friends do the same thing and more and more...
This whole day, despite all the stresses about dying friends and tomatoes, has truly been one of the best days of my life.
And I wanted to say - thanks guys :) only you could make it that great.
<3

~Fact~

Everyone lies.
I guess it's just part of being human.
I don't really mind when people lie.
If I can't tell then obviously I have no problem with it.
But I lie quite a lot so I know when other people are.
There's certain....twitches....people have.
They're uncomfortable.
Why?
Because they're not telling the truth.

I don't press it.
There's a reason they're lying.
If they want to, they'll tell me.
If not, well, why should I force them into admitting something they're trying to hide?
You might think that's uncaring. A good friend would want to know.
Would they?
Or would the good friend wait until they were ready to say?
I don't know.

But anyway.
Like I said, I know when people lie.
Especially my parents.
After all, my twitch had to come from somewhere. I can recognise it in them.

That's why it hurts so much when my mum lies to me.
Most of the time, she's one of my best friends.
I don't care if that sounds gay. It's true.
So when she can't trust me.... all I can think of is why?
What did I do wrong?

And if my mum can't trust me, can anybody?

Can anyone trust anyone, if everyone lies?

~Libraries~

I'm finally past the big one-zero of posts!
*yayy* ^_^
Anyway, moment over.

So, I was in the library the other day and I just realised how peaceful they actually are. I mean, sure, if you're with friends trying to have a laugh and you get shushed at by some old man with horn-rimmed glasses it can be just slightly annoying.
But go in on your own and the quietness makes it calm - you're in a good mood and it's just nice and calm, you're in a bad mood and it's so peaceful you can take time to think and reflect in a space where no-one's going to judge you.
No-one's going to laugh at you, or do stupid things to try and cheer you up.
And it's an escape.
Ina lirary you can take on any personality you want just through opening a book. The old ones are the best, right at the back of the shelves, covered in dust with cracked bindings - the smell of the pages, the feel of them in your hands as you gently turn them over.
What's more, it's always sunny when you go to the library. Even if it's raining there's a patch of sunlight somewhere and as it shines through the window you can see the swirling motes of dust in the air, and it's beautiful.

Gosh, how I love the library.

~Hurricane~

When the forces of nature crash together it results in a phenomenon, both beautiful and deadly. And so in life when everything comes hurtling together it creates the beautiful chaos we live through each day. The chaos that can lead us to despair.

But as in hurricanes there is an eye, at the centre a spot of calm that brings us relief. Every so often a moment comes along when there is nothing to do, nothing to worry about, nothing that needs to be acheived. And at that point it is a moment of pure bliss, of relaxation.

All too soon we are hurled back into the storm where we must once again fend for ourselves in order to keep from falling and being lost. But even when we are in the whirling confusion there is still the joy of friendship, staying together and holding each other aloft, staying strong.

So even though at this moment I am unbelievably peaceful I know that all too soon I will be back in the mad swirl of life. And the thought no longer worries me as much as it did because I'm ready and I know what to expect.

If we know what is coming, even if we don't like it, things suddenly become much simpler. It might be hard at the time, dealing and working around the difficulties you face, but by being prepared for things going wrong life isn't nearly as hard as it used to be.

~Together.~

Together we’ll run

Through the fields made of dew,

And the streets paved with ice

We will run.

Together we’ll laugh

At the tiniest things –

Only we’ll understand

Why we laugh.

Together we’ll lay

‘Neath a blanket of stars

And the bright silver shine

Of the moon.

Together we’ll be -

‘Til you shatter my dreams

For a person

Who’s no good for you.

Apart we shall stay

As a storm rears its head

And casts you adrift

On the shore.

I will fall to your side,

You’ll return my embrace -

We both needed

A warm hand to hold.

Together once more

I will help you pull through

From the misery

You now endure.

And as we sleep by the waves,

In the chill morning air,

I will stab you

For breaking my heart.

~From This Day On~

Gazing out over the choppy waves of the North Sea, Rhianon knew that today would be the starting point. A sense deep inside her told her that what she was about to was right, a sense that had been with her since childhood. But even though she knew that doing this would fix everything, Rhianon’s heart felt heavy at the thought of all the things she had left behind and, as if the ache in her chest spread to the muscles in her neck, her head fell forward, once wandering eyes staring back at her from the puddle at her feet.

The emptiness of her eyes scared her and automatically her head snapped up, eyes once again roaming across the horizon, escaping from the horror that lay only five feet away.

A lonely cry alerted Rhianon to the presence of a baby seagull, abandoned in its nest by its mother as she searched for food. This confused Rhianon as she remembered, from what seemed like years ago, her science teacher describing the intricate ways of birds and how a chick was never left alone, especially one so young as this one.

She caught sight of a lone black shape in the distant sky and once again, her instinct told her something she knew to be true. Inside her head Rhianon was screaming, “Where are you?! How could you just fly off without a backward glance? You’re its father! It needs you! It can’t survive without you! Come BACK!” but she daren’t open her mouth, else she broke yet another calm atmosphere; destroyed something else that wasn’t hers to destroy.

Rhianon had made a pact with herself as she sat by herself on the train from Waverly Station. No longer would she invoke the harsh feelings of disappointment and failure that her mother seemed to suffer from so much whilst Rhianon was around. No more would her stepfather give her disapproving glances across the dinner table as she glared at the abomination that he had married.

As the train had slowed, Rhianon had silently agreed to fulfil her pact that day with all the strangers bustling past her, surrounding her, staring at the lone teenager shouldering a huge khaki backpack - filled with scrunched newspaper balls, her sleeping bag and all the spare food she had managed to scrounge from the flat in Livingstone.

Now, standing so close to her goal, Rhianon felt the strangest feeling build up inside of her. It was one of such happiness and yet something else lingered on the sidelines – a touch of excitement and complete content. For the first time in her life, Rhianon experienced a sense of achievement.

She opened her mouth and let the sea air flow through her mouth, down her throat, filling her lungs with a freshness for which she had yearned for so long. A clarity came over her and, adjusting her position ever so slightly, Rhianon let her meagre supplies slip off her shoulders and leant them against a scraggly bush poking through the bare ground a hundred metres or so away from her final destination.

Rhianon lifted her head once more and slowly walked forward until she could feel the crumbling rock under her feet, falling down, down, down into the black abyss that was ever present just out of Rhianon’s sight. Once more, Rhianon filled her body with the sea breeze gusting in from the North, her hair blowing back behind her, as if trying to escape the fate that was rapidly approaching; the fate that Rhianon was willing to embrace with all her heart.

One more step and suddenly Rhianon was following the rocks before her except she wasn’t falling. Oh no. She was flying with the seagulls into the distant horizon, swimming with the dolphins into the deepest blue of the ocean, crawling with the crabs along the pebbled shoreline even before she hit the boulders waiting for her at the bottom of the cliff.

* * * * *

It was four days before Rhianon’s family noticed that the young girl had run away from home and it was on the same day, approximately two hours later, that three hikers spotted her body sprawled across the jagged rocks that lay at the bottom of the steepest cliff in that area. The local police had concluded early into the investigation that it could be nothing other than suicide – the lack of any indication that another human had been there and the backpack found at the top of the cliff allowed no other explanation.

However her family, to all those who observed them, appeared to be unconcerned with the mental state of their daughter that had quite probably troubled her for a number of years. Not because they didn’t care but from that day on, all the problems and complications in their lives had simply disappeared.