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Dear Myself,

You were a Christmas present that I unwrapped last week that I didn't ask for nor expect to have been given. But for the Writer in me, I did feel excited about having a place to vent that wasn't in front of other people. In this day in age, social media is where you will see lots of us online on places like Twitter and Facebook ranting about the littlest of things that ticked them off. I have you, Diary, and I'm very confident that writing and confiding in you will be one of the best things this year.

Christmas was a lovely time although sadly, it didn't snow. New Year's Eve on the other hand was spent trying to stop my brother Damien using my TV in my bedroom for his personal use. He's only twelve but he needs to ask me first before trying to unplug everything and causing such a racket. Not a good thing to remember from last year. You shouldn't really be doing coursework over the festive break but because I have mock exams next week, I had no choice but to get the textbooks, the highlighters and all of my notes out and take some time away from my family just to make sure all of my work was in order. I try not to verbally complain about the work, sixth form is difficult for me. Just managing to pass my AS Levels last summer and then onto Year 2. It's safe to say that I'm not enjoying it much. Diary, I get the feeling that once you have that lightbulb moment in which a lightbulb above your head suddenly dings and a new idea forms, you follow through with it no matter how stupid the idea actually is. But, I do have plans. My worry is that my parents won't get involved.

When I started sixth form, my goal was to go to University and study Psychology but after getting only a C at AS Level last year, that passion and drive to accomplish that goal just slithered away. As of right now, January 2017, I haven't returned to that goal. Instead, my mind is leaning towards working with early years children. My Mum is expecting a baby this year in the spring, a little brother or sister for me. The sex of the baby is still a secret because my parents want to be surprised. The nursery at the back of the house has undergone a new paint job, the cot has already been constructed, by my Dad called Scott who loves to keep himself busy and build things. His job is building and repairing computers so... you could see my Dad is a bit of a nerd. It's something that I find interesting, but I've always been too scared to give it a try.

My Mum Cassie, well her full first name is Cassandra works in finance so she knows everything and anything about banks and money, not a lot of people can say that. She isn't strict but from a young age, she made me and Damien get savings and taught us both how to invest money into them and keeping to a budget. I don't mind going out every once in a while to shop but I like to sell some of my old clothes and jewellery for a little bit of cash to spend on myself.

And what about Damien? Well, he's my brother and our relationship is like a rollercoaster or that's how I personally see it as. One day, we could get on right as rain, the next arguing over the littlest of things. Apart from the whole TV incident on New Year's Eve, he has been spending around 95% of the time talking to his school friends about the baby due. There will be a seventeen year gap between myself and the new baby. Why did it take my parents so long to have a third child? Well, Mum was only 20 when she had me, I was a bit of a surprise but then again, I like to be a surprise. Maybe Diary, these entries may contain some surprises, who knows? But that didn't mean my parents hated me because I was born earlier on in their relationship. At the age of two, my parents got married and there's embarrassing video evidence of me walking up the church aisle in this dress that was way too big and heavy for me and falling over flat on my face. Yikes. I'm just thankful the video evidence is on a VHS tape and we don't have anything in the house anymore that plays VHS tapes.

I'm still trying to guess what the baby will look like, children do fascinate me most of the time. Last year in the summer, I did some babysitting for some families in the local neighbourhood to save up some cash which at the time, I was going to put forward for University and paying the tuition fees which sadly are increasing within the coming months. Mum has a firm belief that the fees should be capped at a couple of thousand of pounds but Dad feels that the student loans should be looked at more. Funnily enough, the more I think about potentially walking down the campus of my local University, the more I feel if I really deserve to be there. The sixth form I go too is at my old secondary school, a relatively new build. The majority of students in Year 13 are planning to go to University and for the last few months, I've been listening to their stories of getting offers and what celebrations they are planning for the long summer break after the end of exams in May. If anyone dared ask me where I plan to go, the answer would shock them.

I haven't told you much about me have I Diary? Let's rectify that immediately. My name is Morwenna, don't ask me where my parents got the name from because I don't have a clue. I am seventeen years old and I live in the suburbs of a loud, busy city in a house with a front driveway. My Mum honestly can't drive at the moment but she still does and for someone sixth months pregnant, that's quite dangerous but I don't dare argue with her about it. I don't work right now however, I walk the neighbour's dogs twice a week to earn some pocket money and in the warm months of the year, I wash cars for a small fee. When I don't write here or I'm not in class, you can find me walking around the most random locations and holding a camera. Photography helps me to tell a story when I don't want to get words down on paper or physically open my mouth to speak. Now as I sit under the bedclothes writing this before dinner, if I didn't want to work with children, I would pursue a career in photography!

I think that's all you need to know for now, thanks Diary for not laughing at me. I'm a weird blob trying to navigate the hurdles of the world and life. Will check in again next week.

Yours,

Morwenna.

Letters To Myself (#Nanowrimo2017 Winning Novel!)Where stories live. Discover now