Graduation Day

I've been looking through all of my photos on this computer and I found this one. It is from when I 'graduated' from primary school with the year above me. If you are blind and can't tell I am the one in the bottom right.

I've graduated already...I graduated from primary School!

Cruella, Cruella DeVille

I decided it was probably about time that i updated my blog so i am updating with an old photo of me! it took three years for the dye to completelly fade and grow out :)

This is me as Cruella DeVille at a church Christmas party (1997)

Chapter Two

I began to open my eyes and the bright light moving before me blinded me. I sharply shut up eyes once more. I tried to move but found it too painful. I can remember sounds and feelings. The sirens were spiralling and dancing around in my head and I could hear people’s voices. I could hear my name, but I could not answer. I felt alone and scared. I had a pain in my chest and I seemed to have no control over my legs. I wanted to sleep, I slowly felt myself drifting off. Suddenly a sharp pain ran through my face, sourcing from my cheek. My eyes opened as a reflex reaction and the lights before me swirled and flickered. A face came and blocked the lights, as I squinted I heard a voice from the distance, ‘Don’t go to sleep now, you might not wake up.’ I closed my eyes and felt her hand slide down my arm, and then the comforting clasp as she gently held my hand. I was reassured and thankful for the company.
I feel ashamed now that at that time James did not even pass my mind. I felt guilt for weeks afterwards; he had come off much worse than I. I had mild concussion and broken both legs. This had happened when I opened the door of the car and rolled out. At least, this is what the doctors have told me. James didn’t get out of the car. He remained in his seat. Well, almost, he was thrown forwards and his head hit the steering wheel. The seatbelt had given him whiplash and he was in intensive care for what seemed like ages. He was still in a coma.
The first time I went to visit him I felt so sick. I had been asking for a few days when I would be able to and I think I had managed to annoy most of the staff on my ward. Finally they said he was well enough to have a visitor. I asked for a wheelchair as my arms were tired from attempting to use crutches. They had suggested I used a wheelchair originally but me, being my usual stubborn self, had declined the offer. I was too worried about James to appreciate the technology of the wheelchair and too worried to enjoy pressing buttons to move around. At any other time I would have been rushing around having the time of my life in this wheelchair. I got to the ward where James was and the nurse who had been accompanying me left. I wheeled myself over to his bed. I remained looking at his feet as I was worried of what I might see if I looked at his face. I had been warned he was sleeping, that he was in a coma, and, due to the head injury, it was unlikely that he’d regain consciousness for a while yet. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I turned to look at the floor. I heard a soft grunt and looked up to his face, he was still asleep. Slowly my eyes scanned over his face and I wanted to vomit. There were tubes and machines surrounding him. They weren’t all that serious but they were intimidating and scary. He had a shaved head and a large bandage wrapped around it. I pushed myself up his bed and sat beside his face. He looked so peaceful and yet he looked a wreck. The blame was mine, I knew it. If I hadn’t…well, it was over now. I was so confused about what had happened and was just praying and hoping that he would be okay, that he would make a quick and complete recovery.
After the next few visits I found the machinery less daunting and began to talk to him, even though he wasn’t awake. The nurses were a little worried about how little he seemed to be doing; there was no reaction to anything, no change in his medical state. I wasn’t too worried though, no change was good. It meant he wasn’t getting any worse.
It was after two weeks of being there when he made the first noticeable change. He woke up; he was out of the coma. The doctors were somewhat surprised. I wasn’t there when it happened but it seems, from the gossip on my ward and from the very basic answers to my questions, that he wasn’t awake for very long before he fell asleep, real sleep this time, not a coma. This was a new hope. There was still a long way to go due to the other injuries he received in the crash. When I did go to visit him the doctors all seemed a lot more positive. Somehow I never seemed to time my visits so that he was awake but I didn’t mind. I talked to him, as though he was awake, and hoped he would be able to hear me. Even if he couldn’t I didn’t mind, it was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t constantly talking back. It was peaceful and relaxing, much more tranquil than the rush of the rest of the hospital.
I noticed that there was one nurse who never came to look at me. All the nurses seemed to share the duties amongst themselves but he steered clear of me. I began to worry about it, wondering if he had a problem. When Mary, the head nurse came over one day I decided to ask her about him. It was difficult as I was tired and I didn’t know his name. ‘Mary?’ she came over and crouched down beside me, ‘I was wondering if I could ask you something, confidentially, you know?’ I didn’t want the whole ward finding out if he hated me, I also didn’t want him to find out that I thought he hated me if it turned out there was another reason. ‘Of course you can,’ came the reply, ‘I’ve told you before that you can always ask me anything you want and there will always be the same doctor patient confidentiality whatever it is,’ she gave me a smile and sat on the edge of my bed. I pushed myself up so that I was resting on my elbow and I leant in towards her. Gently I whispered, ‘You know the nurse, the male one. He has rich brown skin and he works on this ward,’ Mary looked at me with a knowing gaze, ‘Ah yes, I know who you mean,’ she said, ‘You aren’t the first to ask. I don’t know if he is single at the moment but I will find out.’ Then she winked and began to walk away. I wanted to call after her but I didn’t have the energy. Anyway, I knew she wasn’t going to spread it around the ward as she had promised but I began to feel slightly queasy. I didn’t want him thinking that I felt like that about him. I didn’t want any one thinking that. Slowly I calmed down and went back to sleep.
The next morning, after I had been for a short visit to James and talked for a while about this and that, Mary came over to my bed. ‘I just thought I’d let you know that I have asked him and he says he is single although he has his eye on someone. He wouldn’t tell me who but I’m sure you’re in with a chance.’ I rolled my eyes and wanted to laugh. She winked at me and walked off. I quietly let out a short breath in laughter and slowly shook my head. What would the gossipers come up with next? For one thing what could a man, who apparently most of my ward had a crush on, find to like in me? For another thing, if he liked me so much why did he make such an effort to avoid me? I pushed the idea to the back of my mind. It was quite happy there, I didn’t want to think about it anyway. I decided to pass the time by reading through the papers I had picked up when I was knocked over on the day of my crash. I could only make out some of the words as the ink had smudged. They were also dirty and muddy so I decided to ask the nurses to recycle them. I couldn’t see anything interesting on what I could read.
I had a nap after lunch, and as I reluctantly opened my eyes after finally admitting I was awake, I saw that nurse in front of me. The one who was always avoiding me was now standing right beside my bed. I groaned, what had changed his mind now? ‘Hi, is there something you want here?’ I asked in a slightly aggressive tone. He looked rather startled so I carried on, ‘Sorry if that seemed rude, I just woke up, what can I do for you?’ He stepped forward, ‘I realised I haven’t spoken to you since you came in. I wondered if there was anything I could do to help. Maybe you just want a chat?’ He smiled so pleasantly I didn’t want to shoo him away so I politely said I’d like a drink of water. When he came back he sat on the side of my bed. I just wanted him to go. I felt uncomfortable, sitting here, feeling trapped by this stranger on my bed. He made small talk and I dutifully answered all the questions he asked. Suddenly, out of the blue he said, ‘so, uh, do you have a boyfriend?’ My eyes widened and I held my breath in shock. Suddenly I felt so exposed, like everyone was looking at me, ‘well, uh, no, I don’t…I mean, well, I don’t want to…umm.’ I felt my cheeks go red as his shoulders slumped forwards in disappointment, ‘Sorry,’ I finished.
He went back to not really talking to me after that. I felt terrible. I called him over a few times but he always ignored me, pretended he couldn’t hear. Mary came over to me a few days later complaining that he seemed to be out of sorts. She asked if I knew anything about it. I quietly asked what she meant, still looking down at my fidgety hands and she explained, ‘Well,’ she began, ‘He is a lot quieter, he seems almost rude at times. It isn’t anything major but I have known him for a few years and he hasn’t been like this for a while.’ After that I decided that I was going to make it my aim to talk to him. Every time he was anywhere near I called him. By the end of the day my throat hurt and, just before he left he finally came over. ‘What is it Miss, I’m afraid I’m leaving now so it had better be quick,’ I felt so awkward with him not daring to look me in the eye. ‘I just wanted to apologise, I didn’t mean to upset you but I just don’t need a relationship at the moment.’ He looked at me in the eye for the first time in days, ‘It’s okay I guess. I’ve found out about your boyfriend, I guess I don’t have a chance.’ Then he smiled, ‘But if he ever dumps you I’d love the chance to date you,’ then he walked off and went home. When Mary came over to check I was okay before retiring home herself, I asked her, ‘Why does Nurse Richards think I have a boyfriend?’ she smiled at me, ‘You can’t hide him away you know, gossip spreads in this place.’ I changed my tactics, trying to find out exactly who started this rumour, ‘Who told him I had a boyfriend?’ ‘Well, I did,’ came the reply. ‘But why?’ I shouted back at her. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend and I never want one,’ Mary looked at me in shock, ‘But, James? You are his girlfriend aren’t you? I mean to say, you visit him so much, you’re so worried about him,’ I tensed my face, staring her straight in the eye as I growled, ‘he is not my boyfriend,’ then I turned over and closed my eyes, hoping she would leave me alone.
The next day, in one of my visits to James, the first time where he was awake, he told me of how the nurses on his ward commented on my frequent visits. He blushed and said he was flattered. I told him about Nurse Richards and what had been happening on my ward. He went a bit quiet after I told him about how they thought we were going out. I was a bit hurt that the idea upset him so much but I let it pass, seeing as I had got so angry when it had been suggested myself. It turned out he had already been told parts of what had happened. The gossip, as Mary had said, travels fast in a hospital. The main conclusion made was that I was a lesbian. I was glad of that. It gave James and me something to laugh at. We both knew it wasn’t true, that it was a ridiculous suggestion. That rumour soon died down. There was always a new piece of gossip for the old ladies and the staff to come up with and to develop.
After this first step towards recovery he seemed to speed up. He was almost ready to leave the hospital within about a month, which was a lot faster than any of the doctors would have first anticipated. I had been to visit a couple of times and had proper conversations with him in which he was able to talk back. I had grown used to the tubes and his hair had begun to grow back. I had managed to persuade the doctors and nurses that it was best for me to stay in hospital for these past few weeks. There were lots of spare beds and very few patients to fill them. Anyway, it was nice for James to have a friendly face as neither of us had any other regular visitors. My mum came to visit once but she didn’t live very close and she was very busy at work, I wasn’t expecting anyone else. I received a couple of beautiful cards from my friends, some shop bought and some that they had made themselves. They brightened up my sleeping area and, when I got some flowers sent to me, I asked the nurse to give them to another woman on my ward who hadn’t had any visitors since I had arrived. It wasn’t a complete act of kindness, I don’t really like flowers.

Chapter One

Sitting on the bus watching the rain trickle down the window, I could tell today was not going to be my day. The grey skies were covering everything I could see with a gloomy and dirty appearance. I could hear the rain hitting the top of the bus and smell the wet grass through the window. I gently leant my head against the harsh, cold glass and passed my eyes over the other people on the bus.
At the back of the bus was a couple. You could tell they were still relishing in the delight of a new relationship by the way they stared into one another’s eyes, unaware of anything but the person before them. I longed for that freedom, that love. I watched as he gently ran his finger along her jawbone and how the smile took over her face. I watched as she fumbled around in her purse, without taking her eyes off him once, and occasionally blinked with such a sense of reluctance.
Suddenly I felt awoken and a feeling of reality swept through my body. Instinctively I knew it wouldn’t last. I couldn’t bear to look any longer and I turned away, back to the gloom of the outside world. I could still hear the spurts of laughter as he told her some joke he would have told so many women before her. I wanted to turn back and shout, shout something, but the words would not come. Surely they knew the path of suffering that lead before them: the cheating, the lying, the loss of love, the betrayal. Finally the time would come when they separated and left a mess of sadness and destruction behind them. It was inevitable, never is someone lucky enough to find a decent man, let alone a man like this that will love you.
I fought back the tears and tried to block out the noise, it was getting too much. The bus, the rain, the laughter. Finally I couldn’t take it and I pressed the button for the bus to stop. I stood by the door, impatient to get off. Finally the bus came to a standstill and I leapt off, breathing a sigh of relief as my feet hit the wet ground and the bus moved on. Unknowing of where I was, I began to walk down the road, kicking at the puddles on the floor with each step. I heard a distant roaring and ignored it till I heard the approaching splashing. I turned and saw a large lorry coming up the road, slowly my eyes ran down the road and I saw the puddle beside me. I ran on, not in the mood for getting soaking wet from my head downwards. The lorry passed spraying some water over my feet, as they were already wet through I carried on, not caring.
As I kept walking I turned a corner and, looking down at my reflection being shattered each time I made ripples in the water, walked straight into something. Once I had gained my balance I slowly looked up. Standing in front of me with a look of horror on his face was a short, balding middle-aged man in a suit. I followed his line of sight and stared at the hundreds of pieces of paper floating in the muddy pavement water. I bent over to pick them up and he said ‘No need, I’m in a hurry and you’ve ruined them anyway. Watch where you’re going next time’. As he aggressively walked past me I heard him muttering and swearing under his breath. I dropped to the floor and began to collect his papers. I got them into a pile and placed them in my bag to take with me. I’m still not sure if it was my interest in what was written on them or my obsession for recycling but I was going to take them home.
Standing by the till I felt in my pocket for some change to pay for the nice collection of chocolates in front of me. I didn’t mind that it was taking so long, I was out of the cold and wet, the shop keeper didn’t look too happy about me dripping water all over the nice clean floors and trampling mud throughout her shop though. After withdrawing just enough to pay for my purchase I peered out of the door. It still looked murky and not very appealing so I turned my back on it and continued to look around the shop. I picked up a few magazines and flicked through them, nothing very interesting to look at though. This was a newsagent just like all the others. I turned, placing the last magazine back with the hundreds of identical trash, and began to walk towards the door.
I heard a voice behind me but carried on walking. Suddenly I felt something pushing down hard on my shoulder and I was spun round. ‘Leaving so quickly?’ I was still confused and tried to respond, no words came out, and I just looked like a fish out of water. Finally the clasp on my shoulder was loosened and I tried to relax it, uncomfortably moving it around. As I lifted my hand to rub the side of my neck the man before me continued to speak, ‘Come on now, you’ve been caught. Just pass it back and no more will be said about it’. As the realisation dawned of what he was implying another customer walked through the door. He pushed past me, not seeing me, or not caring, and I stumbled, trying to regain my balance. Finally I plucked up the apparent courage to ask the shopkeeper exactly what it was he was accusing me of. Back came the reply, ‘Don’t you act all innocent young woman. Open your bag, then you can see what you are guilty of.’ Slowly I pulled my bag round in front of me and opened it, trying not to look guilty or look away from this man’s glare for too long. I wasn’t sure I entirely trusted him. As I opened it I saw a smile come across his face, ‘There!’ he said. I stared straight into my bag. ‘And what exactly is it I should be looking at?’ I asked in a controlled but calm tone. I began to flick through the papers I had picked up earlier and then looked back to his face. The smile was gone and now appeared a look of bewilderment. ‘But, but…where have you put it? I saw you put it in your bag. The magazine, I saw it, with my own eyes.’ Suddenly I felt like laughing, the fool! ‘Well, I’ll be going then, unless you want me to accuse me of something else?’ I forced a smile and walked out of the shop. I’ve always loved beating men, I’m always careful not to look vulnerable, and I have to be strong. I couldn’t ever let a man win.
The rain was much lighter now but the sun was still struggling to get through the thick grey cloud cover. As I looked up I searched for any patch of blue sky, or even just some white cloud. I felt almost relieved when, just above the bank, I could see the smallest gap between the clouds. Looking at my watch, wiping the droplets of rain off as they hit the face, I decided it was best if I were to catch a bus home quite soon. I would have missed the job interview by now, no point in trying to get there on time. Slowly I walked back to the bus stop, my head hanging low as the weather depressed me more. Stationary I watched so many buses pass. Each time I would strain my eyes to read the number on the bus, but with the combination of the thin blanket of rain and the droplets on my glasses, mixed with the wet hair plastered to my face and across my eyes, I had little hope of seeing it in time. Finally I saw a bus that I thought would take me home so I threw out my arm with my fist clenched and my thumb raised. Either the driver didn’t see me or he chose to pass me by. I sat on the seat and waited.
After a while I looked up to see one of my friends, James, crossing the road, pulling his coat tightly around himself, trying to stop the rain getting in. He held his umbrella above his head, pushing forwards so it didn’t blow inside out. I smiled and waved, even though I felt miserable and alone. He ran over and stood in front of me. Leaning forward he said ‘Are you just going to sit their getting wetter by the second or do you want a lift?!’
After my decline of the offer and his kind persuasion that I should take the lift, he drove me to a local café that he knew so that we could have a chat and I could dry out. We sat inside by a window and I curled up next to the radiator. He laughed and told me I looked like a cat by a log fire. I didn’t mind as I was now warm and it was thanks to him.
‘Would you like to order?’ I looked on the table for the menu, I couldn’t see it. As I looked up I saw that the waitress was holding one out to me. I took it, flushing slightly red from the embarrassment. Looking through it I realised that I didn’t have enough money to pay for anything. I flicked to the back page and said ‘Uh, can I just have a hot chocolate please?’ James looked at me, ‘You are obviously starving so order some food. If you don’t have the money you needn’t worry. I was intending to pay!’ I stuttered and stumbled over my words, ‘But you can’t, that isn’t fair. I’ll be fine with just my drink.’ Just at that moment, just the wrong moment might I add, my belly let out the most almighty roar. ‘Well that’s settled,’ he said. Then he turned to the waitress and said, ‘Can we both have a full breakfast but hold the bacon’ I admit I was shocked, firstly I had been quite upset at not having money as I had wanted the full breakfast and he had ordered it with no hesitation, and secondly that he remembered I didn’t like bacon I hadn’t cooked myself. I looked across the table and smiled, ‘Thanks for this; I will pay you back later’. His reply confused me, ‘I know you will, but you don’t have to. I already owe you.’ He smiled back and then continued to look through the menu.
Scraping the last of the baked beans onto my fork, I gently lifted it towards my mouth. Slowly the focus of my eyes changed from the orange stains on the plate skyward. As I came to look upon James I saw his eyes flicker away and he sat up straight. I kept looking at him, expecting some sort of comment, but there was nothing except for a slight twitch of a muscle in his cheek. It looked as though he wanted to smile but he was holding it back. I brought my focus back to my meal and I finished chewing my food. Suddenly I began to choke on a baked bean and I found myself coughing and spluttering. I didn’t know why but I felt completely humiliated in front of this group of strangers. I had never even been to this café before. I looked across at James as I continued to violently lurch forward in an attempt to stop the blockage. My face turned red and my throat began to hurt. Everyone in the café was staring at me as I tried to force some small amounts of water down my throat. James walked up behind me and, holding his hands as far away from his own body as he could, gently tapped me on the back. After realising this was making very little difference he whacked my back with such force I was in shock and stopped coughing immediately. It seemed that he had dislodged the baked bean and I was once again free to breathe. He offered to buy me dessert but I already felt mean for forcing him to buy me the ‘Full English’ so I declined, very definitely. I did not give him an inch to bargain with so we set off home.
He was on his way home from work when he picked me up so while in the car we discussed his day. When it came to the questions about my own I helpfully steered them back to him. After a few attempts he gave up and contently talked about the financial problems of his business. We kept talking through numerous traffic jams and traffic lights. The conversation evolved from his work place to the weekend. In the end we arranged to meet up the next day for another meal. I was telling him one of my past bad experiences with a date, very shocked at myself for opening up to him as I had tried to keep this quiet for a few years now, when I looked back to the road ahead and shouted for him to brake. I don’t remember much after that.

story time, are you sitting comfortably...?

I am going to 'publish' my most recent story here...it isn't finished and it is likely never to get finished (come on, this is me!) but i will try. there are two complete chapters so far...

At last the update on what happened over that weekend

Unfortunately, as it has been so long, my memory about what actually happened is even worse than it was...But I will try my best. I am sure that when Matty reads this he will be able to correct me where I am wrong! :)
I woke up and we set off to Peckham at about 12ish. When we got there we got the tickets in order to go and see the new Clint Eastwood film 'million dollar baby' or summit like that and then went to get some food. We first went to McDonalds but there was no space and the queues were horrendous. As we walked down the high street and went into Argos. Matty had wanted to buy a watch. We went in and got his watch. Along with it we also got two mechanical clocks (i.e. They need winding!) and left. Unlike usual, where there are queues a mile long, there were very few other people in there that morning. As we got back onto the road we carried on walking. I suddenly remembered where I thought there was another fast food restaurant, a burger king. When we got to where I had thought it was we found I was right. We went in and ordered some yummy, yummy food. Once we had eaten it we headed back towards the cinema. We stopped off in Primark, just to have a look. We ended up buying Matty a dressing gown, a fleece, a t-shirt and, I bought a myself a duvet cover and pillowcase. I think that is all but my memory may be deceiving me! We had to hurry as the showing of the film was soon and we still needed to stock up on sweets! We went into woolworthes and bought pick n' mix and an apple tango. We then headed into the cinema and watched our film. There were loads of people in our screen, it was the smallest screen of the cinema. Me and Matty guessed that the management had assumed it would not be very popular, how wrong they were. Overall I thought it was a very good film. The main concern that myself and Matty had was that the protagonist was given a faith, merely because of the reason that this would cause a dilemna for him at the end where he had to chose whether or not to assist a friend to commit suicide. Typically he chose to do it.
After the film we left peckham and returned home...Yeah, i will need to ask Matt to update this as i can't remember anything else!!! oops :)