Valentine

This piece was my GCSE English coursework from year eleven. We were given a choice of titles to choose from to create a third person story based upon it

As her man walked away from her, Eliza knew her life would change forever. Clasping tightly onto the ruby ring which was a symbol of their immortal love. The warmth of his tender kiss lingered on her lips in the cold night as she watched Jack, become a silhouette in the near distance. Eliza stood in a trance like state as the sharp wind chilled her to the core. She watched in hope Jack would return to her.

 

It was autumn of 1914 and Jack had volunteered to fight for his country in the Great War. He was eighteen with a maturity beyond his years. A handsome man with warm burgundy hair, soothing caramel eyes. The young Eliza bewitched him. Her beautiful, open smile and pure heart captured his heart. They were perfect together; like two peas in a pod. However no one believed their love… Particularly as it was a forbidden love. A forbidden love that was seemingly condemned to end in tragedy.

 

Eliza now sat by the lake. She could see her reflection in the depths of the clear water as she remembered Jack. Her long auburn rested on her shoulders while her icy blue eyes threatened to spill. Deep in her soul she knew he was always with her. Water ebbed lightly at the banks of the lake, like her mind; it was so calm yet powerful. Eliza was lost deep in her thoughts; water has the capacity to get everywhere. From the smallest ravine to the biggest ocean. Water in the right amount creates, but too much can cause destruction. Eliza was jolted back into reality at this point. She thought would their love last through thick and thin?

 

At this point, she wearily rose to her feet and with a heavy heart, she walked back home. The front door creaked open; Eliza was filled with optimism and hope. This was a special day. It was February 14th, the day Jack and Eliza shared their first meal so many moons ago. Every Valentine’s Day was a bittersweet reminder of that moment. Apprehension and excitement had filled the once empty air. Eliza carefully spread the white linen table cloth, which draped softly around the largely shaped legs, with red trimmings. The candlelight soothed the room as the flames danced in tune to the melodic sounds which echoed from the gramophone. Jack’s favourite meal took pride and place. The aroma of real chicken pie gave the room a warm and welcoming feel. Jack was coming home – Eliza knew it. She had waited so long for this day.

 

Sitting down to the meal, the excitement still filled her up, even threatened to spill out of her. At the first mouthful, her mouth was savouring the taste, Jack’s favourite. As she kept taking mouthfuls, each as different as the next, her plate was soon clear and she was full. Slowly, she rose and walked over to the sink placing her plates in to wash up later. She sighed. He eyes began to feel heavy, causing her to walk over to the living room. It had peachy walls and the burgundy three piece gave it a warm feeling. She lowered herself into the comfiest one, closest to the fire, sitting there for a few moments. She looked deeply into the roaring flames, right into the ebony embers. Slowly her eyelids closed over her icy blue eyes, engulfing her into darkness. She soon found herself slipping away.

 

A mere few hours passed when Eliza was awakened by the last flame dying out, leaving the room in dim lighting. It took her a few moments for her feeble eyes to adjust. That was when she saw him. Him in all his finery, looking just the same as the day he left. She gasped, shocked at first. However she soon understood. Steadily, she rose to her feet. He smile expanded as she edged towards him. The laughter lines from the past sixty years faded into insignificance. He engulfed her into a strong embrace as she turned into the seventeen year old she once was. Jack was home – Eliza knew it.

This piece was my GCSE English coursework from year eleven. We were given a choice of titles to choose from to create a third person story based upon it

Disney Miracle

A short poem I wrote for my first year of university.

Life never turns out how you expect it too.
Thirteen years old,
that’s how old I was,
when my life took an unexpected turn.

Woken up in the middle of the night,
‘my mind is spinning,’ she complained.
In the next moment,
she was laying on the floor,
shaking and unconscious.

Several months had passed,
several more rides in an ambulance.
And we were hopefully going to get some answers.
Yet life never does follow your plan.

One final ambulance ride,
she had another fit,
this time it was accompanied by pneumonia.
It was worse this time.

We had spent a month,
hoping and wishing that she’d pull through.
But we needed a Disney miracle.
She never woke back up.
She never woke back up.

Extract from Dark Woods

This is a small extract from Dark Woods, another one from the collection of twisted fairy tales. This one is my version of Hansel and Gretel. Please let me know what you think and how I could improve.  

Somewhere in the deep, dark and lonely howling woods of Wurttemberg laid two infant children quietly crying in the root of a dying tree. One was a small girl of about 2 years with blonde, bobbed cut hair. She had what seemed to be soulless blue eyes which was a rare sort. Many blue-eyed girls had the brightest, happiest eyes known but I suppose she could be forgiven as she had just previously been abandoned by her parents. The young boy who seemed two to three years her senior had his arm wrapped tightly round his little sister, was the complete opposite to his sister. His hair was a striking black with deep, dark but caring brown eyes. He looked to be of five or six years but his eyes beyond their years.

They say you can learn a lot about people from their eyes and that theory looks to be true.

His arms tightened around her shoulders as he heard of what he only thought were in storybooks… A wolf’s howl. Her sobs got heavier as she buried her small head into the crook of his shoulder, fingers tightening his torso as she too heard the howls. Kissing the top of her blonde hair, he whispered quietly to her, “Shhhh,” Pausing briefly to re position himself so they were both more comfortable, “Shhhh. it will be fine. I will never leave you.” Tears continued to fall down her now rosy cheeks from the cold biting at her fair skin. The intense and nearly ear screeching began to subside which also seemed to comfort the wolves as their howls died too. He looked down to her, smiling as sincere as he could and whispered “You see? They have gone now.” She smiled softly up to him whilst he dried away her tears still trailing down her cheeks. Soon she was nestled against his chest and soft grumbles from her sleep filled the little cave like place they were in. Yet, the young boy could not quite fall asleep. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, one which he felt somebody was watching them.

 

This is a small extract from Dark Woods, another one from the collection of twisted fairy tales. This one is my version of Hansel and Gretel. Please let me know what you think and how I could improve.

Bittersweet Yesterdays

This is the first draft of one of the ‘memories’ in a collection made for a novel I am working on. I plan extending on this particular memory but wish to get some feedback on what I have so far. Sorry for such a short post but I am working on both this and my reviews. Should be longer next and please, let me know what you think. 

Memory #20

It was the last Christmas in that house in a small town which held all the memories. In the morning, I decided to give her the taste of her own medicine and wake her up before the sun rose. However, when morning came, the medicine tasted bitter to her and she waited a few more hours before getting up. In the hours before the sun went down, this Christmas was the best because it was just us. But it was also the worst Christmas because it was just us. The house with all the memories seems bare and small now.

I can still remember the smell of her perfume like it was yesterday, the sweet scent of cinnamon always filled the room when she entered.

 

This is the first draft of one of the ‘memories’ in a collection made for a novel I am working on. I plan extending on this particular memory but wish to get some feedback on what I have so far. Sorry for such a short post but I am working on both this and my reviews. Should be longer next and please, let me know what you think. 

 

Living to the full: Everything Everything

*Mild spoilers ahead*

One thing I will tell you to do either before, during or after reading this novel is to do something you have never done before (even if it is something you are frightened of). The reason why I am telling you to do this is because if you do, then you will truly feel how Madeline feels in Everything Everything.

 

Everything Everything by Nicola Yoon is a love story, but one that differs to others that are on the market. Madeline is a young girl that has never been outside, she is kept indoors with filtered air because she has the rare condition SCID which means she is allergic to everything. It never bothered her that she did not live like normal teenagers until she met Ollie, whom she soon falls in love with and wants to do all the things her mother stopped her doing before, even if it means she loses her life.

 

The ending is especially surprising and I certainly wasn’t expecting it, though it is satisfying for the reader. Whilst I will not give it away, you will not be disappointed and you will cry (just a fair warning).

 

Madeline is a protagonist you can genuinely feel for and not due to the usual trivial thing you find in novels. As though you may not have her exact condition, you can relate because most of us have some condition (be it mental or physical) that restricts us to doing something. Which is why I told you to do something new, exciting, and or scary that you may or may not have wanted to do before. Ollie is also a character which you can appreciate, understand, and sympathise with, but for different reasons.  The other characters are minor and few but they add their own dimension to the story in subtle but great ways.

 

Nicola Yoon has presented this story in a unique way that I have never seen before. Instead of it all being in prose, she has added in ‘pictures’ in a sense. She added the IM conversations between Madeline and Ollie, the hospital records among other important documents. Whilst it may confuse you to begin with, you soon learn to understand, enjoy and love this style.

 

Overall, the book will make you cry, smile and feel things you may never have experienced or wanted to but in the end, you are happy you went on this journey with Madeline. The story leaves you hanging and wanting more. So all in all, it is another must read.

Morning Coffee

Short poem on morning coffee and memories.

 

It is strange to think,

That you are just a memory.

That someone who once was so important

Now is just a memory.

The smell of my morning coffee,

Is your smell.

The smell of cigarettes in the street,

Is your smell.

The early morning wake up calls,

Is secretly you.

The Sunday roasts that do not compare,

Are yours.

And whilst there will be no one like you,

Again.

I need to let you rest as just a memory.

Here is a short poem to entertain you for a while. Ever so sorry that I have not been posting much or regular just recently but it has been deadline and exam month galore for me. Now that I am off for summer and only have my job to contend with I should be able to post more regular and share more reviews, creative writing and insights into my life. Though I am going away for a week next Saturday, so bare with me. Thank you for understanding.

Just a small poem I wrote for The Wells Muse (https://indd.adobe.com/view/e7461d5c-c563-49e9-b87e-84657d2d5db9). It was a poem written for someone special that had a huge impact on my life. I hope you enjoy reading it.