The Kid

I stumbled up the stairs gripping the banisters with my chubby hands stuck between sniffling and gasping for air to reach my little lungs. Tears blurred my vision and I bit my lip every time I snubbed my toes on the stairs. So much for wearing socks!
"Where are you? Come back here!" she screeched from downstairs. "I'm coming to get you!"
Heart thumping I scrambled into my room, closed the door and leant against it trying to quieten my sobs. I heard her coming up the stairs. Fee-fi-fo-fum I smell the blood of a young one. A crippling fright took hold of me and refused to let me go. Be it alive or be it dead...the footsteps grew nearer...I'll grind its bones to make my bread...she was on the landing now. I scrunched my eyes shut, grit my teeth and held my breath. I heard her huffing and puffing; an old monster forced to come out of retirement to settle a score with the new rookie. I slowly breathed in and out as I heard her say: "You can't hide from me!"
Her footsteps thundered down the landing as I scanned my room for somewhere to hide. I dropped to my knees and hid under my desk as the door opened. My heart stopped as she said: "I'll give you such a bea-"
Mercifully the phone began to ring; its metallic call luring the beast. The door squeaked as she closed it. I heard her go downstairs and quickly crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head. I brushed away my tears and cuddled my pillow. My brain throbbed with a dull pain, my eyes burned, my toes stung and my sobs died. I wrapped myself into a soft, floral cocoon: safe, warm, quiet, a haven. Fatigue cradled me in its arms and kissed me as my eyelids drooped.

In my dreams I'm twirling
Swirling, turning and curling
like a Sufi deep in prayer.

In my dreams I'm riding a white horse,
A fierce she-warrior shrieking in old Norse:
"To do battle and win!"

Lions, tigers and bears
In this world I have no cares,
A tangled jungle where imagination runs free.

I dance with wolves under the moon and stars,
I fly in a magic car on my sole mission to Mars,
I'm daddy's little tiger discovering the world.

I'm the princess, the queen
A lean, mean fighting machine
But always kind, gracious and loving.

Come rain or shine
This world is mine,
Even if it's only for a while
This world is mine.

"Eating almonds will make you smarter."

We filed into the hall obediently placing our belongings at the back of the room as we made our way through the sea of tables and chairs. I steadied my breath as I faced the room blankly - like the Chinese terracotta warriors I'd seen in magazines. I walked past faces, swirls of navy tartan skirts and the sound of scraping chairs as people sat down. Different perfumes, hair sprays and the smell of freshly laundered jumpers bombarded me as I walked down the hall. Hot tears pricked at the backs of my eyes but I rapidly blinked them away. Like hell I was going to let these people see me in tears.
"Your seat."
I jerked out of my thoughts to see a plump, middle-aged woman pointing at a table to my left. She had bright brown eyes, fluffy mousy hair and Trevor McDonald window frames for glasses. I gave a wry smile as I sat down regarding her orange cardigan and gathered my thoughts.
I lowered my head mentally uttering a prayer my grandmother had taught me: "It will bring you good luck" she had said as she kissed my head that morning. "We love you and are so proud of you. Eat some more badaam (almonds) they'll make you smart."
I'd smiled and hugged her back as she said: "You are strong, you can do anything. You don't need her."
I smiled to myself at my grandmother's medical advice. "Her" - the word fell like a stone into the bottom of my stomach where it lay. Dead weight. We all knew who "her" was aimed at. It was hard to believe that it'd been six months. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. Honeyed brown hair, a beige coat and a damp afternoon. The magnolias had seductive dew drops running down their petals as they suggestively slid down green leaves. The sparrows had madly twittered to each other and the old man toothily smiled at me as he carried his Sainsbury's bag home.
My eyes snapped open: the sun palely shone through the windows casting a dim shadow across my table. I lay my hands upon the smooth, cool table as I studied the backs of them. My eyes traced over the meandering veins as they wound their way to my fingers. I observed them as I remembered peeling off PVA glue from them as a careless, cheeky kid. If only it were so easy to peel away the layers to reveal a softer, kinder version of myself instead of the sullen, tough blank faced teenager. My dark eyes darted forward at the sound of footsteps. The plump woman was walking up and down the aisles with an armful of booklets. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter. I rearranged the three biros - one would always die on me or decide to bleed all over my fingers at the cruelty it was subjected to.  I silently apologised to the biro and my right hand as the plump woman placed a booklet in front of me. She squeezed past the tables and stood at the front of the hall.
"You have 1 hour and 30 minutes," she said. "You may begin."
I picked up my pen and flipped open the booklet: I jumped into the darkness with both feet not knowing where I'd land. 

Dear Rita

She picked up a sports bag in each hand as she walked out of the front door. She placed them outside neatly side by side, came inside and stood silently on the mat. She stared at the floor as though there were an intriguing design that gripped her attention. No tears, no words, no glances, no hugs. She dropped the house keys into the glass bowl with a jangle, turned and left closing the front door behind her.

My eyes filled with tears as I ran towards the front door, yanked it open and hopelessly stared after her. 

A paralysing, tingling sensation gripped my being. It swept through my bones, my blood, my flesh, my teeth and gathered in my skull where it mercilessly shook my thoughts and burst my heart. A watery sun shyly peered out from behind slate gray clouds I clung to the door. The sun lit up the damp emerald leaves, bounced off the magnolias and glittered on the paving stones of the driveway. The sparrows twittered and flitted from bushes to trees frantically singing their songs to each other. 

Shoulder-length, honeyed brown permanently straightened hair, a beige coat, dark trousers and two Head bags casually walked up the road. I strained my eyes, tracking every footstep as she walked up the road. 

I strained my eyes as she slowly disappeared into the blur of suburban streets, well pruned garden bushes, trees, garden gates and hedges. I shrunk back into a silent, trembling mess as I held the door for support. 

Come back, I wanted to scream. I'll make everything better and things will be different I swear. Please don't go. 

I closed my eyes and quietly begged her to turn around with a beaming smile: "It's ok, I made a mistake! Don't worry, everything will be fine."

I repeated it as though it were a mantra and my life depended on it. I slowly opened my eyes to see an old man hobbling down the road clutching a Sainsbury's bag. Disappointment, pain and bitterness engulfed me as I quickly smoothed my hair back from my eyes. I slowly let go off the door and numbly walked back into the house. I sat on the stairs allowing my tears to stain my tartan navy school skirt as I tried to make sense of it all.

Little did I know that this moment would stay with me. I would replay it in my mind as I would cry myself to sleep every night as I tried to accept this. That no matter how many people I told, I would still struggle and fight my way through life by myself. Little did I know, that this memory would form a deep wound that time would eventually plaster over with a thin scab. A reminder of that day where I stood on the threshold looking into the darkness. 

Numbers

Another Tuesday means another blog from yours truly. Thank you for your kind messages of condolences for last week's blog dedicated to my late great-uncle Blue Moon.
This time of year usually signals the start of a doom-and-gloom period that students up and down the country face: exams. I've always found it fascinating (in a bad way) of how a score out of 100 or an A, B, C, D grade etc has a way of deciding your fate in life. A video was circulating on my FB feed and before I continue with this post, it's worth watching first: Spoken Word.

It's hard-hitting, provocative and puts things into perspective. Whilst going to school and doing your best in exams is important, I believe that we've reached a point in our education system where everything we do and who we are has turned into a mesh of numbers and letters. I strongly encourage everyone to have some form of qualifications so that they have something to fall back to because we don't know what life may throw at us. However, we focus so much on results and achieving targets  that we forget to enjoy educating ourselves and learn new things.
As Suli Breaks says: "I love education, but hate school" because it is not people,  their abilities or their potential that is flawed. It is our system: it is not flexible, broad, open to creativity or different types of learning. I remember being in sixth form and the only option our teachers told us "was to go to university" in order to become successful. Those who did not make it to sixth form or university, were often looked down upon as "drop-outs" and regarded with disdain. Education does not necessarily mean sitting at a desk, numbly copying what your teacher/lecturer says and memorising it. Education comes in different forms: I would encourage everyone to read as much as they can about anything and everything or travel if they can. Reading opens your mind to different ways of thinking and seeing things. People who are informed tend to read, listen and apply it in their understanding of the world that surrounds us.
As a student, I understand the crippling fear of receiving a bad mark and how easy it is to think: "oh no, I'm not going to get a decent job." Do your best, it is all we can do and remember that your eventual outcome in life is not tied to a grade. We never know where we will work, live or end up - having a positive, can-do attitude in general to anything often carries people further than they think. Work hard, but enjoy whatever it is that you study, work or do. We are all exceptional, capable people who each have the potential to be something great in our lives: the moment we believe, accept and apply this to ourselves, the more we will be kind to ourselves and not beat ourselves up over little things. Head up, keep smiling and have a positive attitude: this life is yours so take it.

**This is my last blog for April. However I will be back at the end of May. Thank you to my regular readers and to my new readers: I hope you enjoy my work and stay with me. Your support and encouragement is incredible and means so much to me. Thank you. On that note I'll leave you with this: The Happy Thinking song. If you wish to contact me please do so via avidscribbler1@gmail.com - Thanks.**

Blue Moon

There are days when I just don't have words.
No words to speak, explain, paint or write,
Emotions I can't fight.

There are days when I am reminded
Of how quickly things change.


Shadows, murmurs and footsteps,
From lightness to darkness.
But suddenly everything's a mess.

The moment the wolf throws off its sheep skin
To reveal its dagger-like teeth, gleaming claws
And salivating jaws

Yet all we do is whimper.
Because the wolf is stronger
And if we don't run we won't be around for much longer.

I'm told that our lives are not worth much,
They pass in an instant like withering roses.

Blowing away in the breeze.
Skeletal ashen petals fly
We're never quite ready to say goodbye.

Wispy leaves and scarves flutter in the sky,
As the wind runs its fingers through my hair
Reminding me. As if to say: "I was there."

I remember it was late at night,
I still hear the voice, but I do not see the face
Nor do I fully remember the place

Where the blue moon gently shone down,
Smiling as if you had never left us.

"If you are what you say you are...a superstar.."

Recently I watched Beyoncé's film "Life is but a dream" and to be completely honest I found it quite inspiring. With a string of award winning albums, songs, music videos and other enterprises she has embarked upon, it really is not surprising that millions of people around the world look up to Queen Bey with awe and worship her. Having reflected upon the film, I don't think that she is the best role model we can aspire to. Yes: she sings about female empowerment, inspires women to be sexier and more confident, introduced Sugar Mama (an all-female band) which some might say makes Beyoncé the perfect candidate for modern young females to look up to. She has done extraordinarily well for an African-American woman and some say that she is an inspiration for women of colour to be brave in whatever industry they go into.

This led me to think of the types of women we seek inspiration from. It ranges from mothers, grandmothers, aunts, religious leaders to musicians, singers and celebrities.
So why do we end up looking up to people we barely know? We do so because there is something about that individual which we can relate to, which stirs us and speaks to us: this inspires us and we want to emulate them.
I am a firm believer in that actions always speak louder than words. Queen Bey sings about female empowerment but does so whilst prancing about on stage in skimpy outfits, shaking her impressive booty and gyrating - it's a huge contradiction and sends out mixed messages. Yet this is what makes her one of the most exposed celebrities in the world: she is dubbed as being "bootylicious" and having a major influence on popular culture. It is quite sad that someone's ample backside has enough power to enter the Oxford English Dictionary and everyone celebrates it.
The slogan: "sex sells" cannot be more clear when we see the infamous booty shake and it is not just Beyoncé who is milking this cash cow. Think of today's prominent female musicians (Rihanna, Nicki Minaj etc): there is more attention paid to their bodies, clothing and sex appeal than their voice. And what disappoints me is the number of young girls wanting to be like these women. We are still being led to think that: "I can't be famous or popular unless I get my kit off" or "I have to show a bit of flesh if I want to be taken seriously."
What happened to educating ourselves as much as we can and working our way to the top? It is an odd way of thinking: we feel a sense of disgust at women who enter politics, business, economics yet applaud women who prance about in barely there clothing.
Food for thought: Why don't women like Michelle Obama, Hilary Clinton, Cristina Kirchner de Fernandez, Maya Angelou (the list could go on seriously) get the same level of recognition, fame and adoration from millions of young girls worldwide in the same way that Rihanna, Nicki Minaj and Beyoncé do?
Time Magazine's 25 Most Powerful Women

The Hungry Caterpillar

I recently came across an article entitled: "Life's officially harder for today's young people - because we want more from it."
I have to admit it did make me think. My friends and I often talk about the pros and cons of living in a modern world where life is faster. We have better health care, longevity in life, increasing leaps in technology and (arguably) a better lifestyle than our parents and grandparents did. Yet, we couldn't work out why most of us still felt incomplete, lost, unsatisfied and deeply unhappy. It's ironic: to have everything yet feel an impending sense of inadequacy and sadness. 

I believe that every generation faces its own type of hardship which is unique to that group of people due to changing political landscapes and varying economic climates.
So, if most generations have had it hard, why is it harder for today's youth? A short answer would be that we've become more consumerist and ideas of what we think we can gain from life are now distorted. We appear to be living in a culture and society where most people think that by having more money and more possessions will equate to happiness. We are currently living in an economic climate where most material things are in short supply, including money. We have insane dreams about money, the lifestyle it promises and wanting more of it purely because we don't have a lot of it at our disposal. The latest phone, more money instantly, increases in salary just by clicking our fingers will apparently make us happier. We expect things to come to us instantly without realising the years of hard work and dedication that are often required for this. 
We have higher aspirations, career goals and personal targets that we want to achieve in a set period of time. I encourage everyone to dream big and set themselves that goal, but with our current circumstances we are horribly limited with regards to jobs, financial funding etc. But this doesn't mean that your goal is dead: it's just going take more time. More time = more time to think, perfect and tweak. 
For example: some of my friends want to be married with their first baby by the time they're 25 years old and some friends want to make their first £1m and have a family before the age of 30. Frustrations kick in when we realise how limited we are: we feel at a loss, stagnated and most of the time are unable to cope with this. We are so used to such a fast pace of life that we don't really know how to unwind, so most of us turn to booze as a coping method which all too often comes back to haunt us - be it health wise or the consequences that occur from out of control behaviour. 

On one hand I think that it's great to set yourself a standard that challenges you because it constantly motivates you to keep going. On the flip side, we don't realise how long it takes for dreams to materialise into what we want. All too often unforeseen circumstances may occur which throw us off course and dishearten us. Pick yourself up, dust it off and keep on going. 
We become stressed because we have a fear of 'so much to do, so little time' and the fear of not achieving these aspirations in the next 3-5 years which leads to a sense of failure and soul-crushing disappointment. 
It is so easy to get caught up in dreams, a desire for wanting more and even easier to drown in the depths of self-pity. What we all too often forget is that standing up after being knocked down is a sign of true strength, determination and grit. It is important not to tie your dreams and ambitions into the next 5 years: people often worry so much about their life in the next 10 years that they forget to savour their present. We forget that we have time and in order for certain things to reach its natural peak, time is required. The hungry caterpillar didn't transform into a beautiful butterfly overnight.
To make a mistake or not fully achieve something is not a failure - things happen for a reason and sometimes we need to just take things as they come.