Writing Wednesday ~ December #4

Prompt stolen from the depths of tumblr, because I had to throw a soulmate AU in.

AU where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate

There was an appeal to Christmas, obviously, but there’s only so much you can enjoy when you can’t even tell what colour the tree in your living room is. Or when your mother asks you to hand her the purple box of baubles, and all you can do in return is ask whether that’s the set of baubles that’s darker than the other.

You wouldn’t believe it, but it also makes Christmas shopping one of the worst experiences; sure, your older sister’s favourite colour is pale blue, but from experience, it’s also surprisingly like grey when in grayscale. Yet shopping with your mother is only a reminder that you haven't found them yet, and no, mother, for the last time I’m not going speed dating to try and find them.

That was how she ended up spending a good five minutes in front of the jumpers, debating whether it was that grey one or whether it was that slightly lighter grey one. Goddamn Lucy, couldn’t you just like black like everyone else in this generation? Or even white, although it’s hardly very functional, what with spillages and stuff.

It was with regret, then, that she turned to the woman beside her, tapping her tentatively on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sorry to bother, but can you tell me which of these is pale blue? Last year, I somehow ended up with green…apparently.”

“Well, I wish I could tell you,” the other woman offered, removing her glasses to wipe them clean, “but I suppose you could say I’m in the same situation as you.”

The pair smiled in tandem, glancing up to find acknowledgment in each other’s eyes.

And colour

“Did you know your eyes are green?” The other woman asked with the widest of smiles.

“I’ve been told. Did you know your glasses are purple?”

“So it said when I paid for them.” The other woman reached past her, picking a shirt up from the rack, pressing it into her arms. “This one’s pale blue, and my name’s Jenny.”

Gripping the shirt, she smiled for Jenny. “Am I glad I didn’t go speed dating! I’m Beth.”

* * *

Let's be representative, because everyone deserves love at Christmas, including the love of friends and family, people!

This is actually my 99th post, which means my 100th will be the start of

*drum roll*

My 2015 favourites week!

5 days, 6 categories of favourites all smooshed together into 5 posts to ring in the New Year!

That starts on the 27th all the way through until the 31st if my writing works! I will make myself, don't worry!

Therefore, this is my last post before Christmas, so have a brilliant weekend, whether you celebrate or not, spend time with the people you love, and just...

Happiness, for everyone!

A Meteorologically Emotional Sponge

I'd rather relate my emotions to nature, rather than colours;

You can describe your sadness as a sombre blue, or your anger as a hellbent red,

but nobody sees colours the same.

We all know the feeling of rain upon our skin, or understand the ferocity of a volcano,

So why not write something understandable,

something with which you can empathise?

Quite stereotypically, Happiness, like sunshine, features clear, crystal blue skies.

When you're happy, there's nothing coming to bring you down,

no clouds to ruin your day

Which brings me to Depression, swiftly followed by sadness.

Depression can be seen in the clouds, you know the ones;

They appear on the sunny days, without warning, without precedent,

but they're there, and they can't be shaken, nor can they be stirred.

They appear to follow you, lurking in the peripheral, and the worst?

Clouds are there at night, silent in their journey, but their presence loud, somehow disturbing the peace in its soundless path

Sadness, the rain of life, can be sudden but long-winded. 

Like its sister Depression, once Sadness has arrived, he is ever-present until he deems the time fit for him to make his exit, until he is next needed

Then, the more destructive of the spectrum, with the potential to put you, and all in your proximity at risk.

Anger, purely volcanic in its eruptions, begins with a building of pressure, the boiling of blood.

The magma builds, and suddenly it is all-encompassing.

No warning, no idea of when, but you know it's coming.

Eruption, pure, and unobstructed chaos as it rains upon all available.

No direction, no location.

Just Anger

Stress is the silent killer. It's fine for a while, challenging even.

However, it continues to pile, building upon the mountain that it has subsequently buried.

You think it's safe, nothing dangerous, and you begin to ski.

That is your downfall, It's testing the waters that triggers it.

You see, earthquakes can be ran from, volcanoes can be escaped,

but an avalanche buries you beneath its wrath

In the end, though, we need this weather to balance our lives;

We need sunshine to dry the marshes that constant rain causes;

We need the rain to drench the cracked soil from the drought;

We need the clouds to interrupt the sunshine;

And we need the light times to counteract the dark.

Writing Wednesday ~ December #3

It was then you realised that hell was winter, and you were in love with it

If you were to pick a season to represent hell, it wouldn't be winter. Summer perhaps, with its fiery days that never seem to end, but winter? Its heavenly backdrop of white would be enough to dissuade, but under the powder lies the hell of which you are so fond.

Winter carves a path for loneliness to enter the hearts of many, for the freedom of dark nights to inspire isolation.

Winter shows itself as a time for yourself, time spent by a fire, curled up and warm. Times for yourself, however, end only in desolation, and where will that land you, my dear?

Hell is winter, and you love it only because the feeling is there. Is it not better to feel the solitude, feel the hellish, oxymoronic cold, than to feel nothing at all, no singularity of the season, no defining moments, nothing to remind you that you do, indeed, feel.

If hell were winter, then that was fine, because summer was heaven, and there's only six months in between.

* * *

The most random thing in the world, but I didn't want to be doing cutesy things the entire way through December, so have a slightly philosophical prompt that I obviously can't write for.

It was nice seeing the responses to the Empathy Talk, methinks I will be doing another of those sometime soon. I also, surprisingly enough have a poem of sorts in the works, which is partway done, so that should be up soon.

I now have 1 1/2 days until the end of school for Christmas, and on Friday I'm going out with my friends after school, so I'm just excited, full stop.

See you at the weekend, people!

Let's Talk: Empathy

Apparently I'm a sensitive person, overly so. Get me angry, I can either be so passive-aggressive it's disconcerting, or I can be 2 inches away from punching something. Find me when I'm upset, and I either burst into tears, or just shut up for a while.

Apparently, though, I also get upset on behalf of other people in my life. I can honestly be fiercely angry if one of my friends, the people I care for, are upset, and probably the 2 inches away from punching something kind of angry.

Then empathy comes into play.

empathy: the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

A friend of mine was upset this week by some stuff going on in their family. As well as being exceedingly pissed off by their situation, and worried for them, I also began to relate what I knew them to be feeling to a similar situation I had experienced a long while back. The situation I'd been in, because it happened when I was 12, I'd never talked about it in full, as it had felt entirely too private, seeing as it involved stuff with mum's work, and after a while, I'd let it all go. With the reminder, though, my blood boiled all the more.

So, I'm going to say this now. Seeing a parent messed up can seriously mess you up, but you have to remember that whats going on isn't your fault, it really isn't. Make sure you're there for your parents, supportive, but remember that for me, please.

As I've mentioned before, my life has changed quite dramatically in this last year; the business that's been a part of my life since I was born has left my life, the dog I've had for as long as I can remember was put down, so I suppose that's all contributed, as well as the recent exam stress. It piles and piles, building like a mountain. You think you can ski on it, but once you try, an avalanche begins. You can run from an earthquake or a volcano, but avalanches really can't be escaped.

Back to empathy, because tangents are real here @ Pen and Key. Much as I hate being such a sensitive person, I generally would rather I were empathetic when it comes to my friends' problems rather than apathetic. I'd rather be able to relate and understand, maybe even give advice from my own experiences than do nothing to help.

Heavy topic, but food for thought, nonetheless. It's finally stopped snowing, after what must have been a good 3-4 inches of snow this afternoon, which is brilliant for the weekend, but I really don't want to walk through snow to get through school this next week. Then again, it's only for a week, and there's a half day on Friday. Then it's Christmas people!

So I shall leave you with this snowy weekend (in the North East anyway) and see you next week for the next installment of my December Writing Wednesdays!

Writing Wednesday ~ December #2

Write a story about a child who wishes that his or her parent will find a spouse for the holiday season. The child decides to create a contest so that his or her parent will find the perfect partner.

* * *

Two weeks before Christmas, and all through the house, a creature stirs in discomfort, the man of the house. Well, that’s what his mother calls him. James had decided that his mother deserved a partner for Christmas, and he had tried everything; every single dad at school had been asked, every blind date perfectly scripted (to begin with). However, it was with a sigh that little James resigned himself to wishful thinking, and hoping that there’d be somebody stood on the doorstep come Christmas day.

Mum had said that dad had gone away, a long time ago, and he wasn’t coming home. Every so often, she’d look away, into a distant memory, and James knew, she was thinking of him.

Maybe that was it, he little boy decided as he rolled over in his bed, maybe she just loved dad too much. Maybe.

* * *

Natasha didn’t know whether to celebrate the fact that the competition for her affections had stopped, or worried by the downhearted look that had harboured itself in her son’s eyes. So young, he didn’t understand, love doesn’t disappear just because the person does. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Yet, on Christmas Eve, the idea of laying out presents for two was none too appealing. Perhaps wishful thinking was the way to go.

* * *

The next day, Christmas, the man of the house bounded down the stairs, a winter’s fire in his step. That same sentiment lay in his eyes, however, whilst watching his mother unwrap presents on her own.

It wasn’t until the toys had all been played with, the turkey eaten until they were the ones who were stuffed, that Natasha asked her son about the contest he had created.

He wanted her to have someone, he told her, twiddling his thumbs. “Just like you always have had someone on Christmas.”

She hugged her boy then; he may not understand the mechanics of love – then again, who does? – but, he could understand that people need it. Kissing his head, she smiled, concealing the tears. “I always have you, baby.”

It was from this embrace that they broke at the sound of the doorbell, a man dumping his kit bag outside the door, arms spread for the two that he loved most.

* * *

And here we have ... more fluff, because Christmas, and fluff seems to be quick to write, this was done in about 20 minutes.

Exams are over, hooray! Now the wait for results! I've done better in the last few days than I did last week, which is a plus. However, I'm doing a controlled assessment in English and have done no planning, so that is now going to have to be tomorrow morning's job!

I'll see you this weekend with a post about something or other, hopefully!

6 Down, 5 To Go

If you have been, or are currently a year 11 in Britain, you'll know my current pain. It's mock season people, and this storm has brought about some casualties.

My mocks started on Tuesday, my timetable graced with eleven different subjects which I was not in the slightest prepared for.

Note 1: Revise and Prepare, You'll Thank Me Later

When they hand you the timetable a good 6 weeks in advance, you honestly believe that you have all the time in the world, but seriously, you should be revising long before that green paper is in your hand, a lesson I will be putting into practice come exam season. If I haven't, feel free to shoot me, because I'll probably already be dead.

Of course, my exam plight was not aided by the fact that, for the last couple of weeks I have been caught in the twisted grip of a bug. I spent an entire weekend where I should have been revising, and also spending some time with my sister, who was up for the weekend, curled up on a sofa feeling absolutely miserable. I've only managed to absolutely improvise my way through a week of exams whilst alternating ibuprofen and paracetamol (I owe any passing results to whoever invented those things).

Note 2: Make Sure You've Done Everything You Need to Do

Paracetamol does not last for four hours, it wears off after about three, so that dose you took at half seven will not last you through a 1 hour 45 English exam an hour and a half later (apparently). I had to quite literally stop writing for a second on Wednesday morning because of a stomach cramp that quite literally sucker punched me in the gut. So remember any medication you need to take, any last minute preparations that you think might bring you luck, anything that will help you feel at ease prior to an exam.

Note 3: Much as You Want To, Don't Leave the Questions with the Most Marks for Last

Imagine if you run out of time; that twelve marker that you didn't fully flesh out may be the difference between grades, whereas that four marker that you did because it was easy, that can be left till last.

Note 4: Case Studies are Important

You don't realise until you see an exam paper, but in Geography, having information from a case study committed to memory is seriously important. Which is why, following the absolute Titanic turn my exam yesterday took, I will be creating a mind map for every single case study that I have studied in the last three years, with impacts, figures, and everything.

Note 5: Remember the Writing Portion for English Language

I didn't personally do this, but after seeing the utter despair on a friend's face after he realised that he hadn't done the writing portion, I think it's worth mentioning.

Note 6: In the Same Vein, Do the Questions you're Supposed To

My history teacher will continue to tell the story of the girl in her class a while back, A* student, who saw a question in reference to the Tsardom of Russia (or something like that) and answered that. However, because that wasn't one of the topics the school was registered to answer, she didn't get any marks for it.

Another of my friends actually, purely for a laugh as I believe, decided to answer a question in English upon Journey into the Void, a book he has not read or studied, but because you get an extract for a portion of the question, he answered it using the extract. Whilst our teacher refuses to mark it, I'm still highly interested in the grade he would have got for it. So know which questions/topics you need to answer, and stick to them, highlight them, whatever, just don't go answering shit willy-nilly.

So, good luck to everybody in your mocks/getting results/surviving until Christmas. Please try and remember that, while a bad grade on a mock feels like the end of the world, it doesn't define you, and it never will.

Writing Wednesday ~ December #1

I see you've decorated

He'd left that morning with his house a cornucopia of 'spooky', orange and black, and all things haunted.
Now decked in festive reds and greens and all things jolly, the only thought available to him was: My girlfriend has far too much time on her hands."At last, he returns!"She descended, obscured by the piles of tinsel amassed in her arms. Smile as bright as winter sun, she leaned forward from the bottom step to kiss him, proceeding to dump the coarse glitter heap into his arms, outstretched for a hug.
With a huff and an accommodating roll of the eyes, he trails after her into the living room, where the festive extravaganza continued to make itself at home. She'd staved off on the tree - he would have protested that addition in his absence - but other than that, there wasn't much she'd missed, stockings on the mantle, pillows covered appropriately on the couch, even a sprig of mistletoe in the corner, ready to be unleashed on any unwitting guests in the doorway.
"I see you've decorated."
"Can't say I'm not organised," she returned with a shrug, holding a string of tinsel up towards the back wall.
Stepping forward to wrap his arms around her waist, he rested his head on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, it's November," he smirked, turning his lips into her neck.
"You wouldn't complain if I started celebrating your birthday a month early." Her gaze turned to the ceiling, "I want to make it the best."
"In years to come, he probably won't remember that his mother decorated a month early."
"We'll remind him. It's the first year he understands what Christmas is, let me enjoy it."
"You're still worried about him growing up."
"Isn't every mother?"
Spinning her in his arms, a hand shot towards the table, plucking the mistletoe from it, holding it above their heads. "Don't. Enjoy it. Enjoy this."
Most men would protest, coming home to find a veritable Christmas invasion just past their doorstep, but he hadn't exactly married her for anything else.
"Merry Christmas."

* * * * *

Guess who's doing Christmas themed Writing Wednesdays! Well, they're festive, really, so you can change this if you celebrate something else! I'd love to know!

5 Wednesdays, hopefully 5 Writing Wednesdays, we'll see. 

Currently on my second day of mock exams here, 3 down and another 8 to go, but by this time next week, I will have completed them, and have celebrated that with an awards night for Duke of Edinburgh, so the countdown will continue.

So yeah, fluffy writing every Wednesday this December, let's see if I can beat last year for cuteness.

Have a good week if I don't reappear!