Dear Mr Hunt

I am seriously sorry because this one is going to be a huge rant. I literally cannot even that is how annoyed I am right now.

Both of my parents are doctors, and they are about 15 months away from finishing their consultant training, but even with that amount of time to go they are still junior doctors.

Yes, this is an angry rant at Jeremy Hunt. And that was the introduction.

Dear Mr Hunt,

Hi. Let me introduce myself. I am the child of 2 junior doctors. Literally all my family are doctors. I am fourteen years old and originally being a doctor was one of my career choices but now I’m definitely not going in that direction. Can you guess why?

People are leaving Britain because they think that the NHS is going down the drain- to Canada, New Zealand, the USA, etc. because they know just how awful you are making the NHS. The main reason for this is that they know doctors will have to work longer hours for less pay, and this means that we have less doctors. Another problem caused by this contract is that less and less students will want to be doctors, much less work in the NHS, then we will have even less medics in England. That really doesn’t sound good does it?

Also, people do get tired after 10 hours of work. Doing this 6 days a week is absolutely ridiculous. Weekends are a time for rest, and more importantly a time for the family. If you look at the UN’s human rights act you will noticed that there is one right that you are in direct breach of- the right to a family life. While there is of course parents who don’t see their kids often, right now these are ones who do so by choice, but now you will be creating thousands of children whose parents are forced to spend ridiculous amounts of time away from them. You work about 2 days a week, never on Saturdays and are always pictured happy with your children. How would you feel if you only had about 11 hours a week to spend with your children? Or if you were a child whose parents missed every music concert, every debate, every single football game just because back in 2016 some posh bloke with zilch common sense decided they weren’t allowed to be with you?

Are you trying to make everyone resent you? Or do you just enjoy acting like Miss Trunchbull?

Another point of interest is how you constantly suggest things that would cause harm to junior doctors, and then you try to act like you’re actually on their side. And then you just kind of do this God-awful creepy smile like you’re trying to be nice, but it doesn’t make people like you it just infuriates them even more.

 Oh I’m sorry are you feeling bad? Do you not like being told you are a hypocrite and that you don’t work enough? Well tough because that’s exactly what you are doing to doctors all over England.

You know who else tried to destroy an establishment through means of ‘reform’? Umbridge,- and I am sure there is a lot of people hoping you get scared out of office by the Weasleys and a bunch of fireworks.

I’m sorry if you feel bad about everyone turning against you and protesting against your ideas. I’m so sorry if it hurts your ego when people insult you- it’s not like your out-of-context ‘statistics’ hurt the doctors who devote their lives to saving your life, or your mother’s life, your wife’s or your children’s.  And I’m especially sorry if you were hoping for an Ed Miliband-style group of supporters who would back you in everything you do, because there is no way that would happen.


An ordinary kid. (of junior doctor parentage)


0.1% Human

You can probably tell that this is about the refugee crisis. No points for that deduction. But what I really wanted to talk about was people’s attitudes towards it.

There are those who have posters on their front doors saying ‘refugees welcome here’, those who are opposed to apparently anyone other than themselves being in the country and then those who don’t really care, saying it’s not their problem.

Example one- a couple of months ago, we had a school trip to France. In the days leading up to the trip, our teachers rounded us up and gave us a lecture about the migrants, and not to be afraid if *heaven forbid* we saw one of these disgusting creatures, and I swear that was exactly what they were portraying them as. I naturally just ignored her, because I had better things to do on a Thursday lunchtime than listen to someone say people who are attempting to run to safety are more of a threat than the people they were running from.

On this trip the ferry stopped in Calais and we passed a refugee camp. And there were quite a lot  of refugees in the seaside town we went to, mainly close to the beach- but most of them were young, some even younger than me. None of them  seemed even vaguely dangerous. When we were walking over to the beach, just before we left, we passed this old man, with two kids with him. They were all leaning against this wall we passed, and I had about 80 euros left so I wanted to give some to them, because I knew I wasn’t going to spend it, but, I was walking with a friend of mine, and when she noticed I had slowed down, she gave me a bit of an evil look and that resulted in an argument over the treatment of refugees. A few other people may or may not have joined in.

We did have an incident on that trip, but it had nothing to do with refugees, just a group of idiotic teenage boys who thought it was funny to throw stuff at 11 year old girls, and punch random people.

Still, on the journey home the debate over migrants continued and the general view was that nobody really cared. I was just being over-emotional, and it was just ‘Maryam getting worked up over nothing again’.

In the last week, 3 year old Aylan Kurdi drowned trying to get to Canada, and suddenly everything changed. The people who were just mere days ago referred to as a ‘migrant swarm’ who were ‘invading our countries’ are suddenly being welcomed with open arms. It’s moments like these when you start to regain your faith in humanity, when people come to their senses and actually start to care about others, when they start to think ‘hey, maybe people who are far away are important as well’,  when they can  look at someone less fortunate and say ‘ hey, maybe I can help them.’, instead of writing them off. Just weeks ago nobody wanted to know about anyone- any of my friends, when asked about stuff like this, would just reply with ”it’s too far away, it doesn’t matter”- but hopefully now they might be more human.

Because I am just sick and tired of people not helping people because they’re in a different culture, a different country or continent, because at the end of the day we’re all humans and we need to help each other. I know I might sound like a total hippy weirdo preaching about peace and love, but seriously, we are all humans, and horrific things are happening all over the world to other human being, and we can’t just act like just because it isn’t happening here, now , to us, that it’s not happening.

In the film ‘Independence Day’, the president of America declares the 4th of July a holiday for the whole world, because it is the day when mankind finally set aside its differences to join together to fight the aliens. Now, if you take away the aliens and the president and the flying cigars, there is a lesson to be learnt- as humans, 99.9% of any given person’s DNA is identical to any other person, so how can we have so many disputes over 0.1% of our genetic code. 0.1% is 1/10 the amount of fat in skimmed milk. 0.1% is such a small number that it shouldn’t mean anything but it does. Yes, we are different, yes, we are unique- but we’re still one species, and we shouldn’t need a catastrophic event to unite us all.

At the end of the day, 0.1% shouldn’t divide us.

It should bring us together.


The Fallen

On Tuesday 16th December 2014 an attack was carried out on an army public school in Peshawar. 145+ people died. 132 of them were children. At least 130 more have been injured. More are still dying in hospital, while others fight for their lives. Why? Because the army of Pakistan dared to strike the Taliban, who were already causing so much trouble in people’s lives, in the whole world.

It seems a bit late to write this now. Five whole days have passed but the wound is still fresh. Every day the faces of small children flash onto the screen, and in each smiling little boy I see my eleven-year-old brother and my sixteen-month-old cousin, in the faces of the teachers I see my aunt, a nursery teacher in a school in Lahore. They all deserved better, they deserved to live their lives.

The remarkable thing is that, after all this devastation on Tuesday, those fit to come, returned. On Wednesday the children came back. Returned to their school, wore their blood-soaked uniforms. That says a lot. Those students, those teachers who returned, they are brave. In that one simple act of going back to school they have shown that they can’t bring us down.

When I was six years old, just after the 2007 bombing in Karachi, we were planning to go to visit Pakistan, to visit our family over there. So there I was, six years old, and I walked in on my parents talking. They thought it would be too dangerous to take us over there. They wanted us to be safe, out of harm’s way, as I am sure most parents must. They were actually discussing about cancelling tickets. I knew straight away the reason for that. I told them that we had to still go. I told them that if we stayed at home we were just doing what they wanted. They wanted people to stay away, to keep away from them, and if we cancelled we would be doing just that. So, in 2008, we all made our way to Pakistan, and all came back in one piece.

What I’m trying to get at here is that the people who do these kinds of things are trying to make us do something, or more correctly, stop doing something. If we, in fear of them simply comply, they have achieved their purpose- the real fight is against the fear inside us, the fear of what could happen if we don’t listen to their threats. They will keep using the same methods to get us to do what they want us to, and we can stand up to them by simply not agreeing. Malala Yousafzai came so far by simply fighting against the Taliban, and proved time after time that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword- and there is a change coming.

People who were once against anti-terrorism regimes are now baying for the blood of those who so brutally killed all those children. The whole of Pakistan is coming together as a country and all the countries are gradually coming together as one world. The people of the world are saying that enough is enough, and together we can stop this. Everyone who tries to fight will at some point be asked who they are fighting for. The answer to that is simple. We are fighting for the innocent children who are killed needlessly, not by malnutrition or childhood cancer, but by some men who thinks it is perfectly reasonable to shoot an eight-year-old. We are fighting for the teachers who protected their students until their last breaths, we are fighting for everyone who fell, but lives on in our hearts, our minds, our prayers, our wishes.

If anybody ever asks, we fight for the fallen.

Trains vs Brains- Pakistan’s so-called Dilemma

In Pakistan there is quite a noticeable problem with the education system. The children who turn up to school may find their teachers have not bothered to do the same, and many children don’t go at all.

My family in Pakistan are considerably well off. My cousins, who are 15 and 9 respectively, both speak perfect English and both earn high grades, as a result of being able to gain places at a private school, which attains a standard that is equivalent, if not better, than my own school in the UK- with a range of extra-curricular activities and high GCSE marks, but if you compare these with government schools, there is a steep drop.

In the cities, teachers are usually better qualified and children get better grades- but in more rural areas that just doesn’t happen. In some cases, teachers aren’t hired on merit, but because of political affiliation, and these teachers sometimes don’t even turn up. The curriculum varies from school to school as well, so, unlike in the UK, every school teaches different things.

Ever since I can remember, there have always been children begging in the streets of Pakistan, and I once asked my parents why. They simply replied that their parents couldn’t afford to send them to school, so they were trying to earn for their family. There is an education policy in Pakistan, but it isn’t implemented, meaning that there is still a large amount of children, and adults in Pakistan who are illiterate.

You would think reforming this flawed system would be first on the government’s list?

Well, that’s not the case.

In Pakistan there is also quite a noticeable problem with the government.

This government is planning on building bullet trains and brand-new motorways- which would be admirable had they first sorted out the issue of schooling.

“Tell me, how will children go to school if there are no motorways for them to travel by?” was a recent question posed by the chief minister of Punjab when asked about this topic.

Well, the answer is, quite easily, considering the motorways, designed to improve communication, aren’t really that close to the least educated areas- and that children wouldn’t need to travel that far to get to school if they simply built more schools.

And there are so many more things in Pakistan that need to be prioritized before roads- from the shortage of electricity, to providing decent law and order, from creating a better healthcare system to pulling down the VIP system. There are real problems in Pakistan, and the government causes the majority of them.

Noughts and Crosses Book Review

It seems kind of ironic how, after every person in my class has read it thrice, I finally decided to read Malorie Blackman’s Noughts and Crosses.

Well, Noughts and Crosses is a Romeo and Juliet type story, except for the fact that it’s nothing like it. It is set in a society where the black crosses rule over the white noughts and is about Callum, a nought, and Sephy, a cross. As you guesses by the Shakespeare reference, it is a tale of forbidden love and racism, and is really heart-wrenching.

The things I liked most about this book were that it kept you eager to read on, and the librarian was rather shocked when I returned it to her, finished, after hours of taking it out, and that at times I wanted to punch Malorie Blackman for making it soooooooo sad and other times I felt really happy or emotional. I really like how she uses plot twists throughout the story to really make the reader emotional, because that ability to actually make a reader happy, sad, or actually affected by your words is a talent only really good writers posses, and I can only dream of ever being able to do that.
In fact, the only bad thing about it was the foul mood the ending put me in. Nobody really took much notice of it, because at the (remarkably sad) ending of Oblivion (Anthony Horowitz) I cried for over two hours (in school at this point), and at the ending of Caught in the Crossfire (Alan Gibbons) I couldn’t speak for twenty minutes. So you can probably see why nobody thought it strange that I was in such a weird mood after this book.

To conclude, very few authors and very few books can actually touch your heart. I must say that Malorie Blackman and Noughts and Crosses are members of this elite group.

Nothing’s Perfect

Winter Sucks. I hate Winter.

Good Thing it’s summer then.

It’s a lovely morning. Believe me, that sunshine feels like the very light of heaven had somehow fought its way out, and had decided that it would give Earth a little slice of paradise. It feels perfect.

Nothing’s Perfect

As I walk into the park I clutch Joe’s birthday gift anxiously, hoping with all my heart that he won’t hate it. My eyes barely open in terror, I traipse over to him. My big brother’s eyes light up. Perfect.

Nothing’s Perfect

The night is alive with fireworks tonight- the clear summer air brushes over my face and I beam straight back , trying to let Mother Earth know I like it. Let there be light- and breeze and warmth. Could this get any more perfect?

Nothing’s Perfect

I’m home now. There’s a new chart show on on MTV- Miley Cyrus turned up dressed as a carrot- and it’s dark. I’m snuggled up, warm, safe, happy. This day has been perfect. I check my watch- fifteen minutes left- will something happen? Never. This day’s too perfect.

Nothing’s Perfect

Or is it? That little whisper in my mind is here. That whisper, everywhere and nowhere, constantly in the corner of my eye, constantly there, but I never noticed it.

It’s on my TV. Oh My God. It’s speaking now. Nothing’s Perfect. Nothing’s Perfect. NOTHING’S PERFECT!

Did you really think this would work, child? 

It’s a man’s voice, sounding a bit like Voldemort. Funny how, when I’m about to die, I think of Harry Potter. Then Lemony Snicket. Peter Rabbit will take care of me if I think of him- right? I’m going mad. I’m having a breakdown. I’m asleep, because my door should not have shut. My windows should not have exploded inwards. My left arm should not be oozing blood in the shape of letters.

Nothing’s Perfect

God Help me. I check my watch again. How can it possibly be that only three minutes have passed? I feel as though I’ve spent a thousand eternities in this blazing hell, this horrid torture. Help Me God. Please. I’m only 14. What did I do? I promise I’ll be good. Get me out. GET ME OUT!

Did You really think this was the perfect day?

That voice kills me slowly from inside. That merciless tone drapes me in a cloak of cold, of pain, of fear. Five to midnight. I wonder if it ends at midnight.I hope it does. Midnight.

Well Done, my girl. It does end at midnight. Too bad you wont be alive to see it.

Pain rips through me, breaking me up from inside, but I don’t care. I’m floating now, in the endless sea. The clock strikes midnight and I rock myself to sleep.


Katie, it’s Joe.”

“Can you hear me?”

I can hear  him. I’m lying cold on the floor, but I can hear him. I have power now. And I know just how to use it.

Nothing’s Perfect.

Casting Shadows Sophie McKenzie Review

Casting Shadows is the third book in the Flynn Series by Sophie McKenzie, and boy is it amazing. The book is about Flynn and River, sixth formers and- yes this is a love story.

Well, kind of. Sophie McKenzie wrote Girl, Missing and the Blood Ties Serieseses so I guess she just couldn’t stop herself from putting something like this in the book. This is because Flynn has serious anger issues. He comes from a broken home and he had a drunk dad and two sisters and his mum lives in a small flat and-

Forget this. I’ll just start from the beginning.

In the first book, Falling Fast, Flynn and River meet on the set of their school production of Romeo and Juliet (I know what you’re thinking, but River is a nurse in this). This book shows that Flynn comes from a broken home, and can barely afford the books he has from school. It also points out his need for anger management classes.

River is a normal girl who has no problems whatsoever.

In this book, it shows River and Flynn in Sixth Form, and introduces a new character, Leo, who is a person of his own.

Alright, if I say anything more it will either be a spoiler or it will be as tongue tied and weird as before, so, read this book, its really nice and recommended for 11-16.

Eve and Adam Review

After reading Eve and Adam by Michael Grant and Katherine Applegate, I sat still for ten minutes taking in the book and it’s ending.
(Sorry for the grammar, the autocorrect is a bit off).

Sixteen year old Evening Spiker is injured in a car accident and her mum swiftly takes her out of the state hospital, but Eve guesses it is just because her mum, Terra Spiker, is a multi billionaire who owns practically the whole world’s medical service. The story follows how she is told to use a ‘virtual reality device’ to create a simulation of a perfect man (Adam). As you have probably guessed by the inverted commas, Adam is real. The story is from the point of view of Eve, Solo, her mother’s ward and Adam, but the majority of the story is based around Eve.

This book is known as one of the best young adult novels of 2013, and I can see why. Both Michael and Katherine’s writing styles are merged in this book, and the way it’s written is really good as it gets the story across really well, and I love how the end of the story is so different to what it would have stereotypically been. This book is recommended by me for ages 12-18 and is really a great book to get my 2014 reading list off to a good start.

Cool Booklist For 12-18

This is my self compiled Booklist 1, which took me five hours to do. I was ill, I was bored. Also, it proves I am not one of those fake geeks as a classmate of mine has once said.
Thank you, and enjoy the book.

2. Casting Shadows- SOPHIE McKENZIE
3. Witch Child- CELIA REES
4. The Originals- CAT PATRICK
5. Noughts and Crosses- MALORIE BLACKMAN
6. The Fault in Our Stars- JOHN GREEN
7. The Selection- KEIRA CASS
8. Uglies series- SCOTT WESTERFIELD
9. Blood Ties- SOPHIE McKENZIE
10. Looking for JJ- ANNE CASSIDY
11. Beautiful Creatures- KAMI GARCIA
12. Burning Bright- SOPHIE McKENZIE
13. Stargirl- JERRY SPINELLI
14. Wonder- R.J. PALACIO
15. Looking For Alaska- ALSO JOHN GREEN
16. Split Second- SOPHIE McKENZIE
17. Child 44- TOM ROB SMITH
18. Stardust- NEIL GAIMAN
19. Twilight Series- STEPHENIE MEYER
20. Code Name Verity-ELIZABETH WEIN
21. Before I Fall- LAUREN OLIVER
22. How I Live Now- MEG ROSOFF
23. Paper Towns- JOHN GREEN
24. An Abundance of Katherines- JOHN GREEN
25. When You Were Here- DAISY WHITNEY
28. Second Chance Summer- MORGAN MATSON
29. Matched series- ALLY CONDIE
30. Chaos Walking- PATRICK NESS
31. Divergent Series- VERONICA ROTH
32. Flowers for Algernon- DANIEL KEYES
33. Delirium- LAUREN OLIVER
34. 13 Reasons Why- JAY ASHER
35. Girl of Nightmares- KENDARE BLAKE
36. My Sister’s Keeper- JODI PICOULT
37. Oliver Twist- CHARLES DICKENS
39. Shatter Me- TAHEREH MAFI
43. The Moon and More- SARAH DESSEN
45. Marley and Me- JOHN GROGAN
47. Pride and Prejudice- JANE AUSTEN
48. Sweet Sixteen- KATE BRIAN
49. Something, Maybe- ELIZABETH SCOTT
50. Airhead- MEG CABOT
52. Two Way Street- LAUREN BARNHOLDT
53. Smart Girls Get What They Want- SARAH STROHMEYER
54. Queen of Babble- MEG CABOT
57. Huckleberry Finn- MARK TWAIN
58. Stealing Heaven- ELIZABETH SCOTT
59. Defy The Stars- SOPHIE McKENZIE
60. Never Have I Ever- SARA SHEPARD
61. Change of Heart- JODI PICOULT
62. The Reformed Vampire Support Group- KATHERINE JINKS
63. A Beautiful Dark- JOCELYN DAVIES
64. A Crooked Kind of Perfect- LINDA URBAN
65. Skin Deep- LAURA JARRAT
66. The Vincent Boys- ABBI GLINES
67. The Great Gatsby- F. SCOTT FITZGERALD
68. The Fallout From Finding Emily- RYLEIGH BERKENPAS
69. A Midsummer Night’s Dream- WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
70. Millennium series- STIEG LARSSON
71. P.S I Love You- CELIA AHERN
72. Fast Forward- JULIET MADISON
73. Small Steps- LOUIS SACHAR
74. Black Beauty- ANNA SEWELL
75. The Carbon Diaries 2015- SACHI LLOYD
76. Handle With Care- JODI PICOULT
77. Lock and Key- SARAH DESSEN
78. Madison Avery Trilogy- MEG CABOT
79. Prom Night From Hell- MEG CABOT
80. This Lullaby- SARAH DESSEN
81. Eleanor and Park- RAINBOW ROWELL
83. Gallagher Girls- ALLY CARTER
84. Just One Day- GAYLE FOREMAN
85. Game- BARRY LYGA
86. The Beginning of Everything- ROBYN SCHNEIDER
87. Golden- JESSI KIRBY
88. Tiger Eyes- JUDY BLUME
89. Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children- RANSOM RIGGS
90. Unhooking The Moon- GREGORY HUGHES
91. Bridge to Terabithia- KATHERINE PATERSON
92. Inkheart- CORNELIA FUNKE
93. Redwall series- BRIAN JACQUES
94. A Child Called It- DAVE PELZER
95. Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist- RACHEL COHN &DAVID LEVITHAN
96. The Iron King- Julie Kagaw
97. Someone Like You- SARAH DESSEN
98. The Bride’s Farewell- MEG ROSOFF
99. Something Borrowed- EMILY GIFFIN

Book Review #1- Geek Girl, Holly Smale

Geek girl is the best book I read in 2013. Holly Smale wrote this and I have a feeling that, maybe it’s the story of her life (maybe). Geek Girl is about fifteen year old Harriet Manners, the class geek (hence the title), who gets spotted as a model by weird and slightly eccentric stylist Wilbur (picture Gok Wan with blonde hair and a ŁÖT of leopard print on). She also has a chance meeting with supermodel Nick and Yuka Ito, a negative of Miss Havisham (in more ways than one). In fact, the only thing wrong about the book was the librarian’s eagerness to get me to review it. Long story short, if you’re over ten, read it. But not if you’re a boy though. My little brother read a page of it and he looked kind of like a puppy trying to read a book called ‘how to be a cool cat’. So, if you like reading books about ginger teens who think their hair is ‘strawberry blonde’ this is the one for you. Cheerio!

Starting Secondary School

In September I started my first year at secondary school. It seems like so long ago, but it’s only been four months. This is my mini account of that awkward time.

September 2012- T Minus One Year

I get up in the morning, scrabbling around for my glasses, knowing this is the beginning of the end,the start of my last year of primary school. School is exactly the same, except for a  lingering sense of grown-upness, as we’re finally the oldest in the school. I know that we have SAT s this year but my teacher has promised us a fun filled year aside from that. I realise now that there is more to my life than just primary school. My horizon is further ahead and now I begin to see that I’m close, so very close to  the next chapter of my life…

March 2013-T Minus Six Months

I’m up at  4:00 am, worried of what will come. Will there even be a place for me at the local secondary school? Will everything work out fine? Four hours later, I’m called into my parents’ room to look at an email they have gotten from the education authority people. Two hours after this I’m busy telling my friends how I’m going to the very school nobody I know is going to. I’m extremely happy, as it’s a good school, but how will everyone there be?

July 2013- T Minus Two Months.

It’s time now. I am officially going for the induction day at my new school. I’m officially a Year Seven- for today anyway. I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting my school council and librarian badges, brushing my hair until every last curl has been brushed out. My dad bundles me in the car and the fact that it is sunny and about twenty degrees seriously gives me a boost. My form tutor is really nice, she smiles a lot and by the end of the day I have made an awful lot of friends. My mum picks me up and takes me and my brother and my cousins to McDonalds and then to the ice cream place down the road. I feel better now. I may well be ready.

Still July-

After seven years of being here, it’s finally my last day of primary school. I wake up and iron that brand new poloshirt I had bought specifically to get signed by the kids at school. Our teacher, who’s recently been struck down by tonsillitis, has managed to get into school to sign our shirts. Everyone’s having a competition to see who can get the most signatures on their shirts and there’s a kid in year four repeatedly writing Boris on everyone’s shirts. Oliver from year five is signing our shirts with the name Esmerelda. Mr Cooper comes out of the Year Three classrooms with a ton of ice lollies and Jackie somehow manages to spill melted lolly down her dress. It’s probably the hottest day of the year, but at the end of the day it feels really cold. Chloe burst into fits of tears and giggles when the photo montage comes on in the Year Six assembly.  At the end of the day I pick up my little brother from his classroom and we both walk home, silently, him happy as he is now the oldest in school and me excited for what’s left to come.

August 2013- T-Minus Two Weeks

I run around the house in panic as there is only twelve days left and I have still not bought my uniform. After an hour or so, I’m in the car with my mum, then I’m in the uniform shop, frantically ticking items off of my list. The blazer alone cost around£30 and the grand total was around.. wait for it.. £250! I end up buying half of WHSmith in my quest for perfect organization, and my mum decides we’ve had enough at around 4:00pm.

   September 2013- T Minus Zero

My eyes are open way before dawn. Its time, and I’m ready. My pencil case is full, my phone is charged, my bus pass is in my bag and my skirt and blouse are ironed. My  shoes are polished, my blazer is clean, my lunch is made, and my hair is wet from the shower. I scramble downstairs, still in my pyjamas, at 5:00am and cook (BURN) myself an omelette.  I go back upstairs, pull on my uniform and spend fifteen minutes adjusting it until it looks perfect. I have everything ready and in my hands by 7:10 and I’m at the bus stop ten minutes before the bus even arrives. I’m alright.

T Plus eight hours

I return home , and I wonder what it really was that I was worried about. The day went well, and after all, it was just a day. Just a single day, that really couldn’t have been much.

A single day, no longer and no harder than the rest.

Lovely, eh?


T Plus 2 Years- September 2015

I cannot believe I wrote such a cheesy, weird thing. This is stupid. I was such a weirdo in Year 7. Wow, I thought my form tutor was nice? Obviously this was before she started doing these weird PSHE things called THUNKS in form time and just stopped being all smiley-smiley. WOW. I sound like a mini-English teacher. This is awful. Delete it now. 😀

Word for word-The first story I wrote

Everyone who writes has a cringeworthy first story, and thankfully it has only been eight years since I wrote my first, and I remember it word for word. when I was that age I always wrote stories because it made my parents smile a lot, and I hope this one makes you smile.- bearing in mind I was four when I wrote this.

So here it is: Fiona’s Surprise.

Fiona’s  Surprise

Once upon a time there was a princess called Fiona. One Day it was her birthday and Fiona was coming back from school. When she got back to the palace she found out that her mum and dad  had thrown her a party. She was really happy and she had a lot of cake and she got lots and lots of big presents. It was the best birthday ever. The next day she went to school and she was a teacher and she liked telling the kids the alphabet. There was a great big dragon on the playground and it breathed fire. The kids got scared. Fiona was scared of the dragon but Prince Charming came and chased the dragon away. Everyone was safe and then Prince Charming and Princess Fiona got married and they all lived happily ever after.


Please don’t think this is a stupid piece of writing, I swear it is the work of a princess and Shrek obsessed four year old.

Chapter Three of Ice Story

Chloe froze. Nobody rang their doorbell. No-one. Not ever. So who was this? Was it the landlady, coming to evict them? She was sure she had paid Sue the rent for the next four months. There was no way it was her, was there?


“I’m sorry Craig, but your wife has Osteomalacia. She may need a break, Alaska is not the best place for sunlight, now, is it?”

A girl sat outside the doctor’s surgery, and her eyes widened in shock. Her mother couldn’t have that big word disease, could she? This couldn’t be happening. She was only ten years old, what could she have done to deserve this? Her dad had only just lost his job, and now her mum was going to die. She didn’t know what was happening, she just knew they would never be able to afford her mother’s medicine, or a trip abroad, or that food the doctor was recommending. She didn’t know. She didn’t know.


She didn’t know. As she walked to the door she didn’t know what was happening, or what she had done to deserve this. She didn’t know.

Her hand shuddered as she went forward to turn the doorknob- partly because it was cold, partly because she was scared- but when she opened it she heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Sue. It was a young woman, in her mid-twenties, with scraggly blond hair that had frozen to her head in the subzero temperature. Her jacket was ripped and her clothes were caked in mud, and her shoes had more holes than her gran’s crocheted teddy bear, but the fact that it wasn’t Sue cancelled out the effects of the woman’s appearance.

“My name’s Sarah Hardy, and I really need somewhere to sit down.” her voice was rough and hoarse, but through what was obviously a bad cold, Chloe could hear a trace of a British accent.

“Chloe Wilson. And you can come in, you’ll freeze out there.” she may have  been broke, but Chloe wasn’t heartless. “So, how did you get like,” she stopped, hoping not to offend her “this?” Sarah could see her looking at her attire, slightly perturbed.

“I, um, long story.”

“We’ve got time.”


“You can’t just eat so we don’t need to pay for your medicine!”

“I would if you could get a job to get food!”

Chloe closed the door quietly and went to her room, trying to ignore her parents’ voices, but still they continued. She lay, curled up on her bed, her fingers in her ears and her pillow in between her elbows. She lay, hoping for a better day tomorrow.


It took Sarah nearly twenty minutes to explain how she had been kidnapped, and how she had seen her fourteen year old brother for a brief moment before she ran away from the men who had taken her.

“Whoa.” Chloe felt stupid for taking pity on herself, while this girl had been through it all and was still humble. “We’ll help you.”

“Don’t worry.” Sarah said, but Chloe couldn’t help it, “I just needed somewhere to sit.”


The sun hit Chloe’s face and woke her up immediately, its warm light urging her to leave her bed, telling her that this would be a better day, a brighter day, a happier day.

She opened the door and crept down the stairs, trying her hardest to pretend the loud sobs she could hear were tears of laughter, that what she was fearing hadn’t happened.

“Mom, what happened?” she asked, but she already knew what her mother was going to say.

“Your dad’s left, dear. We just thought it would be better.”

But Chloe knew her mother didn’t think it would be better. She wanted to pretend it was all a dream. Mom would be gone in less than a month if she didn’t find money to pay for her medicine. She didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it.

But she had to.


“Thanks for the bread, Chloe.” Chloe had given Sarah an old jacket of her mother’s and her dad’s old boots before she had forced her to let her leave.

“Any time.” she wished that there was more she could do. “And if I see your brother, I’ll try my best to find you.”

“I’ll make sure you can.”