It's Okay to Make Mistakes

2

2

Sometimes you just have to push through the things that life throws at you, push through the obstacles that look you in the face and threaten to crush everything you've ever stood for with great force, like a tsunami will crush a village. It isn’t easy to stand up after you’ve fallen down one thousand times and you’re bound to fall down one thousand more.

Like the grass grows and receives a divine haircut and regrows, like the stars fall down every morning and climb back up every night, I will feel like death and yet live. It’s an odd thought to rather be dead than alive, I wouldn’t say I’d rather it but it certainly feels better to be closed off to the world.

I think about that every morning when I wake up.

My Grandmother would have you believe that everything happens for some unexplainable reason, whether it be good or bad isn't the point, somehow sunshine will shine out of my arse at the end of all of the pain, that I'll be okay.

She's such an idiot.

I wake up every day and look in the mirror and frown. I frown at the tubby blubber that clings to my lifeless bones. Forcing myself away from my own image, I sit emotionless for a while.

This is the only time I allow myself to feel this way, to wallow in a little self-pity. It's probably not my best idea but I need this time so I don't begin to suck my friends into this emotional whirlpool, drowning them under the darkness that consumes me.

A message from Dante flickers a light in me. He causes my spark, like a four year old zapping her hand along a trampoline rail after she has spent all afternoon running along carpet.

He is the reason for the static in my heart, forcing my hair to stand on end, it makes me feel alive.

I look at the phone but don't bother to open it, I know what it will say.

With deep regret and regression I stand, the weight of my fears and nostalgia threaten to weigh me down.

It takes countless effort and power to force myself to take the final step away from the darkness and to step towards the light in my life. Some may say I should want to be in the light, to be inspired with happiness instead of depression but I've been here so long, I've began to prefer one over the other.

People often ask why I'm always so bubbly and happy, of course I answer them with a short, simple and carefully thought through line; I just am. Laughing along with them at my silly comment I have a moment of desperation, a moment of wanting them to know, just to ask if that's the truth. That moment never comes.

My school uniform invites me to step inside, not with warmth or gratitude but with anxiety and a harshness that would melt the ice in Jack Frost's hands.

School.

 There was a time that I appreciated everything school stood for, including the Catholic system. The idea of being a good little Catholic school girl always made me chuckle, the irony of that unsophisticated generalisation, I couldn’t name one single girl that would fit neatly into that stereotype.

Shoving my arms half-heartedly up and through the middle, placing them through holes that feel as tight as my cousin’s wallet, I am ready to face the day. Okay, maybe not ready perse but I’m not going to punch anybody… that I am aware of.

One last look in that damned mirror. You can do it.

My soft brown hair sits flat against my face, shoulders and back, it’s oh so appealing. What’s more appealing is the brown, it’s not dark, it’s not light it is just…brown. My jaw is probably manlier than it should be, it’s chiselled and defined in a sexy way, okay I’m kidding on that one, but close enough. Green eyes that is daunt inside my face and an arse the size of kingdom come. That’s my description of myself, short and sweet, looking and thinking about myself to long forces some harsh reality’s inside of my head.

That’s me I guess. Fat, green-eyed, strong Jaw and brown hair. Appealing aren’t I.

Downstairs I’m greeted with a large band of smiles and a plate of pancakes, dear God, pancakes. Are you trying to make me fatter than I already am Nan? Jesus.  

I obtain that usual welcoming “You’re looking really thin at the moment. You worry me.” Dear God, she’s so annoying and knaggy and pathetic and gosh.”

“I’m just going to grab an apple, I’m running late, thanks for the offering though!” With a sprint to the fruit bowl and out of the door I take a deep breath letting the smells of the kitchen and the pancakes linger a little, I do miss some foods but that’s the price of trying to lose weight, you have to eat healthy. I have a very long way to go before I can eat a little junk again.

Content face Ivy, pleased face Ivy, happy face.

I wedge the apple to the ground and begin to stroll, a phony day awaits.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR

~~~~This wasn't as long as I had wanted it to be and I'm not really happy with the way I've put the whole kitchen scene together but I often never am so I simply have to put it out there and hope for the best, any advice for the kitchen scene would be appreciated, not saying I'm going to take it but anything to spark a new idea or outlook for me to change it would be excellent!

~~~~I know this is very dark and depressive but it won't be for long, I'm just trying to put you inside her head at the time, it will only get this dark again when things begin to happen (obvious things) her mood is very wishy washy and changes quite often so I apologise for the current dark and gloomyness, if often also depends if I'm in a good mood or not Ha-ha!

~~~~As always, advice is always appreciated on how to improve my writing.

~~~~Please follow if you like it and vote if you become really sucked in, next chapter will be up in the next few days, I'm aiming for around 2,000 words a chapter at the moment so they should become around that soon. This little rants at the bottom will stop soon too! Just letting you know some things!

Maddi!