Truly Missed

R.I.P Jess

xxx

I will always be thinking of you

xxx

11.05.1993 - 24.07.2009

Brought Down From My High Horse

I've replayed the day over and over in my head. Trying so hard to make myself forget. But no matter how much I want to leave the memory behind, I can't stop thinking about it. The majority of my memories are for me, embarrassing, in that I was embarrassed when they happened. So I'm hoping that by writing this all down it will get it out of my head.

It was a few months back. I went skiing for the first time on a school trip. 5 days in Austria. The first 4 days were amazing. From my first baby slope, advancing up with the group to do blue runs. I was one of 4 girls in a group of about 10 people. All beginners. Although most were a bit apprehensive about going down a proper run, I was so excited. Speed has always been my weakness. I like going fast, whether it be sprinting, cycling, driving or skiing. My confidence helped me to improve faster than some of the other girls but I stayed near the back of the group to help my friend when ever she fell (Which was a lot). As the 5th day came to a close I was on cloud nine, so happy with the progress I'd made during the week. The beginners and intermediate groups had joined together for one last run down the mountain, a red run. My group hadn't done a red run yet so our teacher Maria chose only the people she thought were ready. Luckily I got chosen, but I was a bit nervous as it was a lot steeper than the blue runs we'd been doing. My friend I'd been helping wasn't chosen, so I had no one to go down with. We left the others, and set off down the slope. The higher group shot down the first part and were quickly out of site. I should point out that with all my confidence in the last 4 days, came a lot of crashes, and in a lot of them I would lose a ski. I'm not talking about it just popping off, I'm talking about losing it 200ft down the slope. And ever single time I had to walk down to get it. So yes I was helping my friend at the back, but it was also a safety precaution. I'd wait for everyone else to shoot off, and then go, to avoid harming others. So while going down the red slope, I was sort of cautious, ok, i was very cautious. I figured, if my ski flew 200ft down a blue run, it would go a lot of further down a red. So I wanted to avoid any crashes, which meant hammering down on speed, and over turning every turn, so I would go slightly back up the slope, to slow down. So you can guess what happened. I looked up 2 minutes down the slope, and there were no students in site. Not to say there wasn't anyone around. I was surrounded by Maria and about 4 teachers. There is nothing worse, than having 4 teachers all telling you you're doing so well, and to keep going, when you can tell all they want to be doing is bombing down the slope with the rest of the students. So hiding my shame, I kept going, concentrating on the task at hand and not making eye contact with anyone. My assumptions were correct and within a few minutes there was only Maria and 1 teacher left around me. Now this teacher I've always thought of as pretty damn cool, and no matter how much I tell my friends I hate him for various reasons, I can't deny he's an alright guy. So having him there as the only other person who spoke english didn't really help. Let me explain, it's hard having people there to watch you fail, but when it's people you want respect from, it's so much harder. So I struck up conversation with Maria. Anything to dissuade him from giving me demeaning appraisal. I made it down the slope about 10 minutes after everyone else(no joke) and I was completely humiliated. Luckily most people were engaged in conversation and were unaware of what they'd been waiting for. I thanked Maria so much for helping me down that slope. But I never thanked the teacher. I guess my pride prevented me from it. But on some levels I wish I had. He didn't desert me like the others, no matter how much he wanted to bomb down the slope. And he never made fun of me, which is surprising for him.

I know it sounds petty that this day could bother me so much, but I was so embarrassed that that teacher had seen me ski so badly. And maybe I shouldn't be. But it will still always bug me, that even though I thought I was a good first time skier. In truth, I honestly sucked. And maybe I needed to be brought down from my high horse.

No Patterns, No Rules.

Why do I analyze every little thing that happens around me? I try to give a rational reason for everything. Relationships, fall outs, arguments, friendships, love, hate. I spend so much time trying to make things fit into categories that I miss out on the fun stuff when it doesn't fit. Trying so hard to get inside people's heads can exhaust the hell out of you. And I know first hand. I see people as set objects, like robots. Programmed to follow certain guidelines, certain rules. When really, everyone is their own person. No matter how much I try to box them into little groups of similarity, no one will ever be the same as anyone else. I've spent days going over parts of my life, trying to find a reason for why I did something, or why something happened. When really, most of the time, there is no written reason, no true meaning printed somewhere in a book giving me an answer to why I made that decision. It did it because I did. That's the best, most honest answer I could ever give. Something happens because someone makes a decision to do something or say something. There are no patterns, no rules. Sometimes you just gotta accept that.

The Right Choice

The Right Choice

The right choice

What is that?

Just something you must make

Out of what? I ask

Plastic, or clay?

Sometimes it's hard

To see the right choice

Blinded by pride

Or sadness perhaps

If we must we must

But I ask you

Only one thing

Should we be forced

To choose our own hell?

Too Many Questions?

What happens when the last human dies? I know it sounds very depressing but I lay awake last night for like an hour thinking about it. It feels odd to think of all the planets orbiting the sun and nothing being there to witness it. Does something exist if no one's there to know it exists. The world will go on turning, the rain will keep falling and the grass will keep growing. But there'll be no one there to witness it. If we have an ice age, will people survive it? I may invest in a lot of wooly jumpers just in case. Is there life in another universe? I mean we are the only known life in this little piece of space, our own little universe, in our own little galaxy. But what about all the other galaxies. Are there worlds out there just like ours? Another earth. With countries, weather, people. Living under a different sun. With different schools and jobs and architecture. An earth with a different history? Who knows what happened in their past. Did they have kings? Or wars? How do they speak? And is there third world countries? I may ask too many questions. But it fascinates me just how little we know about what's out there. It's nice to know that all those dots in the sky, aren't just dots. They're a sign of hope, a hope that maybe, just maybe, life exists somewhere out there.

Everyone Meet Marble

Well havn't spoken in a while. Getting my fair share of lay ins and late nights. More than my fair share if I'm honest.

I've been up to a lot of thinking as well. About people, mainly the ones around me. There's been a lot of private drama going round and I seem to be stuck in all of it. Don't get me wrong, I'm only nosy when I have to be. But a lot of stuff has just happened at once and people seem to like talking to me about it. Which is good. Cause it keeps me up to date and it helps me know my friends better. But I'm only human like the rest of us, there's only so much I can take in. So in my view everyone should have their own way of dealing with life and everything it throws at you. Let me introduce you to my marble:

Now this spherical piece of glass has got me through some tough times. It helps me think and calms me down. People who knew me 5 years ago will know what I'm talking about when I say I can be one hell of a pain in the ass. I don't know when to stop but I never mean to hurt people. So this marble takes it out of me. Everything that bugs me or worries me goes into this thing. And I feel ok again. Some days I feel like beating on something, others I get so fidgety, nothing will make me stay still. When this happens, I sit and I hold my marble. Throw it around, do a few tricks. Just something about it that gets me and my thoughts back on track.

I just hope everyone has something like my marble to help them think straight. Sure can be a lot of help.

No More Repeats

I need sleep so badly. 2 weeks of late nights, hours upon hours of revising, and early morning wake up calls. I'm grumpy, snappy, I can't seem to get on with anyone. I hate it. It's like I'm not me. Like something is leaching from my body. All my energy, my inner strength, is gone. My thoughts are slowly returning to me and for that I'm grateful. But it's like a child took me apart, stuck me back together again in the wrong order, and was left with a screw that just didn't seem to fit anywhere, when really it holds all of me together. I don't want to talk, I don't want to eat. All I can think about is how amazing this summer is going to be. Well, what it might be if I can pull myself together. I want to enjoy this summer for myself. I want to make time for my friends, not just have it readily available, I want to get things done, not leave a day without a purpose. What's more. I want to meet someone. Not in the romantic, destiny kind of way. I just want to meet someone new. The world around me at the moment is like a movie I've watched too many times. Everything's the same. Like a song on repeat. The lyrics get all too familiar. You know what they're going to say, but you dare yourself not to say it, hoping without reason that it might be different this time. I want to make something of this year. No more repeats.

Looking Across The Canyon Alternate Ending.

Looking Across The Canyon (Alternate Ending)

by Suz Richards

Jessie stood, staring blankly at the crowds of people as they hustled past. Leaning against the lockers, she tried to act casual. People passed, their faces holding blank expressions. Friendly voices were heard above the hum of conversations, but not a single word was sent her way. She didn't want this. Why did bad things always happen to her?

Her mind lapsed back to a time long forgotten, or at least she wished it was. The day was clear in her head, like a photograph. The keys were clenched in her fist. Her head was spinning. The flames filled the night air with black smoke, it burned her eyes as she scrambled over the wall into the woods. A root caught her foot and she cried out as she fell harshly onto the ground. A broken bottle bottle lay on the floor next to her, a piece of glass deeply imbedded in her arm. She struggled on away from the blaze, unable to look back. She knew the river, she knew the canyon. She headed along the familiar path. In the air, the sound of sirens wailed, causing her heart to thump somewhere in her throat.

She reached the clearing. The moonlight shining down onto her face. her breath raced out of her mouth, forming clouds of vapour in the night air. The depths of the canyon fell into the black below her. The faint smell of a campfire lingering in the leaves. She stood staring blankly into the abyss. She'd never thought about how it would end for her. Looking into it's dark depths her mind filled with images of heaven and hell. Where would she end up?

She shifted her feet as a rock gave out beneath her. She slipped, her body tipping over the edge. She yelped, her heart skipping a beat. She flipped through the air, free falling as the walls of rock rushed past her eyes, the gloom swallowed her.

Meanwhile in a small village at the bottom of the canyon...

"For the last time, we did not order a giant trampoline!" James yelled as a stubborn delivery man stood holding a clip board in his outstretched hand, looking slightly irritated.

"Well you could of told me before I set it up". James was about to let rip a stream of profanities but something caught his attention in the sky. Something was falling from the cliff. The delivery man turned to glance at what had caught the guys attention. A girl fell screaming through the air, she was heading right for them. She plummeted quickly towards the ground. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable thud.

Jessie screamed until she ran out of breath. She shut her eyes, dreading what was to come next. Her body hit something, but instead of her crumpling, the surface molded to her. Then her body was being lifted up again, she left the surface and as quickly as she had fallen, shot back up through the air. She looked down. A trampoline? Is she dreaming? The cliff face fell away beneath her and she rose up over the canyon. Her feet dropping to land on solid ground. She collapsed to her knees, tears welling in her eyes.

"Jessie Smith?" A loud voice shouted. Glancing up she saw the flashing lights before she saw the men dressed in blue, guns at the ready.

"You're under arrest on attempt of property destruction and arson."

"Aw crap" she muttered

They helped her to her feet before cuffing her and placing her into the police car.

It had been 6 months since that night. She had done her time. They had told her she could go back to school. Like it was a privilege. She tried to return to normal, but nothing, or no one, was ever the same again.

R.I.P. Bisc

R.I.P. Bisc

xxx

Always Loved

xxx

Never Forgotten

The Convict

The Convict

He stood casting his gaze out over the rolling waves. His heart, once encaged, was now free to rule this vast ocean. An overwhelming calm slid over him as his body swayed with the swell of the sea. A familiar feeling he had not realised how much he missed. What lay ahead of him he did not know, but his first objective was merely to sail as far away as possible from this god forsaken land. The year was 1702.

The cliffs dropped away to the left of him. The rope around his wrists chafed his worn skin, a single line of blood trickling down his fingers before splashing on the tanned earth before him. He walked, head held high, as the guards marched him towards the ropes. A navy tradition at Port Esquivel, any man convicted of piracy was sentenced to hang on the cliffs, a warning to other pirates. Looking forward, the sight of past comrades, now just bones, sent a chill down his spine.

He was one of the best shooters in the south sea, a match to be reckoned with when it came to swordsmanship, but he had been caught out by the drink. One rum too many had given him no chance of fighting them off when they came for him. Fifteen men had raided the inn, swords brandished. The cuffs had been on him before he was even able to stand up. A night he would not easily forget. They didn’t treat pirates kindly round these parts. He was beaten to within an inch of his life, bruises painted his skin a tinge of purple and his bones ached with every move.

The noose came slowly over his head, tightening uncomfortably around his stiff neck. The rough material scratched at his skin as they moved him closer to the cliff edge, small rocks gave way beneath his feet as he lowered his gaze towards the now threatening waves. When dropped he would enter the water, the soldiers always took this precaution, just in case the neck didn’t break, the water would finish them. The sharp prick of a sword jabbed into his back. It was time. Might as well do it with dignity, he thought. Moving one foot precariously close to the edge, he leaned forward, allowing his body weight to take him over. The wind hit him in the face as he fell through the air, the rope tightening before jerking his head backwards. Pain shot through his neck and spine but he remained conscious. The water came up fast and the chill of it stung his skin. He cursed himself, why couldn’t his neck of broken, now he would suffer the longer process of drowning.

Under the water everything blurred into one, but a glint in the corner of his eye caused him to turn. A line of shining metal was propped against the rocks. He kicked out with his legs, inching his way towards it. His thoughts had been right! A rusted sword, lost in battle long ago. Reaching out he rubbed the bonds holding his wrists against it. Slowing the rope began to fray, finally giving way and loosening before falling to the sea floor. He grabbed the sword, flinging it upwards toward the noose. He let out the last of his breath just as his neck fell free. Quickly pushing off the rocks he swam towards the surface, the cold air filling his lungs as he gasped, the pain in his chest dissipating, replaced with a welcome first breath. Above him the guards’ shouts and yells merged with the crashing of the waves on the cliffs. He swung his arms through the water, heading along the coastline towards the port.

           Reaching the harbour he pulled himself up onto the shore. His heart told him to rest but his head insisted on moving. If he stayed too long the guards would arrive. A small frigate rose up in the water, unmanned but ready to go. Hauling himself up off the sand he staggered towards the ship, climbing clumsily up one of the rope ladders. Grabbing a knife from the cabin he hacked at the ropes, freeing the boat of it’s constrictions. The whole ship jolted as a wave hit the side. Raising the anchor, he allowed the wind to fill the sails as the ship moved slowly away from the port. Looking up he saw the guards rushing towards the shoreline. Yelling for him to stop. There was no way he was stopping now. He manoeuvred the ship around, glancing at it’s compass. He was headed due east, away from land. A smile crossed over his dry, cracked lips. He was free.