Even as I sit here now, I still ponder the possibility of the event occurring. They’re incalculable. Nil. Nought. Nothing. Being unable to work it out, that’s what I hate. Not knowing isn’t dissimilar to torture. I hate it. Anyway, I digress. Here’s what happened.

My bare feet were struck by a draft, prompting me to rise from my statuesque position behind the door. I walked to the door, opened it and stepped out into the corridor. Following my descent down the stairs, I slipped my feet into my Nike Air Max trainers, laced them up and left the house, still without socks.

I turned right. Then left. Left again. Right. Along the road. Right. I was walking briskly through the harsh, icy winds, but with no real aim. I just wanted to clear my mind. I passed the park, where just a day prior I had been playing football with my friends. I caught a glimpse of some of my other friends gathered round a table across the freshly cut grass. I sped up. I wasn’t in the mood for speaking to people.

I paused in front of the next shop I passed, thought for a moment and stepped across the threshold. Inside the corner shop, I approached the refrigerated storage unit that contained drinks, purchased an icy lemon flavoured can of Fanta and left. ’65p,’ I thought to myself, ‘What a rip-off.’

A vibrating sensation started to spread through my upper leg, it was my phone. I plunged my right arm into my trouser pocket to collect the ringing mobile device. It was mother. I brought the can of Fanta, that had been clutched in my left hand, up to my lips and took one last swig before answering mother’s call.

‘Where are you, Patrick?’ Mother sounded extremely agitated. She rumbled on about my not telling her that I went out for a solid two minutes. I can’t recall her exact words, but I can remember the tone, vividly. She was anxious, so much so that it seemed as if she was enraged. I told her that I was at the park and that I’d be a hour. I walked on.

Approximately a minute after resuming my walk I spotted a bike. Unchained. I picked up the pace, jogging towards it. Upon reaching the pedal-powered vehicle I looked around, waited until no one was watching and hopped on. At a significantly greater velocity, I continued downhill towards the old warehouses.

Upon arriving at the abandoned warehouses, I dropped the bike off onto the pavement and hurried round the side of the building. I pushed open the side door and stepped inside. Pausing for a moment to admire the artwork that had been plastered across the walls and floor, I thrust my hand into my jacket pocket, where I had placed the phone after my call with mother, brought out the device and plugged it into the portable stereo that I had left in the warehouse two days previously. The speaker erupted. ‘Those who choose to keep their eyes shut are no better of than those who cannot see…’ I turned down the volume.

Lying on the cold, hard ground in perfect silence, I emptied my mind. I occupied myself by counting off the songs on the playlist. Order. Peace. Amidst my pleasure I failed to realise the time passing. Seconds, minutes, hours, gone. Evenrually the music stopped. I awoke from my semiconscious state and walked over to the stereo situated on the other side of the room, approximately 10 metres away. Upon raising my phone to within my range of visibility I read the message displayed on the 4.7″ screen aloud, to myself. Low battery. I decided that now would be as good a time as any to return home.

As I emerged from the warehouse I noticed that the bicycle, which I had used to get there, had gone. A great sigh of irritance was released from my lungs as it dawned upon me that I would have to walk, or run, home. No longer angry, but now annoyed, I began my trek home.

With aching feet and tired legs, I trudged back along the route I came. Upon passing the park in which my friends had been gathered round a table in, I decided to take a shortcut. I walked briskly over the recently-cut grass in the general direction of my house, pausing only to readjust my course. By this point it was dark, and with nothing but the dim streetlamps of the path to guide me, I was worried.

That’s when they approached, emerging out of the shadows.

Truthfully, I don’t want to be writing this – but I am. My imbecilic therapist has it in his head that it’s a great idea. He’s a prick. Why should I even listen to him? I hate writing; it hurts my hand. But I’ve said that I’ll write and I’ll keep to my word.

Truthfully, I don’t want to be writing this – but I am. My imbecilic therapist reckons it’s a great idea. What a prick. Why do I even listen to him? Writing’s stupid; it’s boring and it hurts my hand. But I’ve said I’ll write and I’ll keep to that.

“I used to write letters, I used to sign my name.”

Isolation. Implying that it doesn’t happen anymore, reminiscing of when they were sincere enough to do it. Not bothered to send letters to anyone anymore; they don’t feel it’s worth their time anymore.

1- Starts with adverb

2- Contains two adjectives

3- Three words

4- Rhetorical question

5- Semicolon

6- Compound sentence

Drifting off to sleep, I dragged myself gingerly onto the iron-framed bed in room one. It was hell. I looked around the building one last time; I was scared. What kind of black-hearted bastard would do this? The man upstairs. I concluded that he thought he was god-like; that he had a god complex

I remember it; it is engraved in my memory. Scooby sundenly bolted up the valley and towards the house. Scowling winds picked up around us, shaking the trees violently. Our fire was blown out instantaneously. The temperature plummeted. Shivering in the unforgiving winds, I looked to Edmond. He looked to me. The winds halted. A thunderous sound filled the valley. It stopped. Then the snow started. It fell and fell, settling on contact with the ground. Edmond and I lookes at each other again ‘We’re leaving.’ Edmond said this boldly, trying unconvincingly to cover his fear. We ran.

Once we had reached the house, Isaac bolted into the front room and switched on the TV. ‘Come in here – quick!’ He called into the kitchen. Footage on the news showed the blazing rubble that had previously been London. The voice of a reporter spoke over the footage, explaining that a nuclear device had reduced London to nothingness. Shit.

We were alone in a dark, gloomy house – great. Edmond and Isaac went to find torches. I comforted Piper. When Isaac returned I slipped out to take my pills. Pain from the headache left me in agony. My head was spinning, my legs on the verge of collapse. ‘You’re a fucking curse!’ I screamed at my reflection. I slumped down onto the ground.

I have decided to write a book. I couldn’t care less about whether or not you care about what I have to say, but you’re reading this, so I guess I have to say that I hope you enjoy it.

Anyway, let’s get to the point. Yesterday I went out. As I left I fed my fish, before heading out the door. ‘Keys, phone, credit card.’ I thought to myself as I checked for my essentials. I marched down the steps, onto the street and towards the station. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I felt the need to leave; a repel away from my humble abode. I found myself thinking of my Grandmother’s tortoise, Fred. A smile crept across my face.

Notes:

Juxtapositions – city girl in country, places we know with guns and missiles. Terrorism – bombings on news. Rock music, headphones sunglasses, ripped tights, tank-top, leather jacket, jewellery – rebellious, wants a high status. Independent.

Why does she dismiss the news on the boming so quickly?

Writing:

I looked around as the passengers began to leak slowly through security. There she was; she was Elizabeth. Elizabeth strutted out of the metal detector, glanced at the news and then stood still, waiting. She was wearing tattered leggings, a leather jacket and sunglasses. Her ears were pierced by several large pieces of jewellery. I approached her. “Hi.”             “Who are you?” She responded. Then she saw the sign, “Oh… Which one are you?” I told her that I was called Isaac and then she followed me out of the airport.

Activity One:

Shaun looked up at the night sky, marvelling at the beauty of the stars. As Shaun’s mind drifted, he began to feel tired, and thus decided that it was one of those occasions on which he would have an early night. Despite his fatigue, Shaun couldn’t sleep and was perplexed because there was no real reason why he couldn’t enter a subconscious state. Due to his inability to fall asleep, Shaun decided to go and check on his pets. He picked up his flashlight and stumbled into his front room. Fish, check. Beetle, check. Shaun went back to bed.

Shaun trudged towards the Great Pyramids, dragging his legs wearily. He stopped. There was an arrow in the sand. Shaun was utterly baffled. More arrows began appearing ahead of Shaun, drawing him faster towards the pyramids. “It must be sorcery” , Shaun told himself, as he obliged with the pull of the arrows.

Activity Two:

Sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow, I reminisced about the times when I thought that I had friends. I dreamt of when in which my life wasn’t a masquerade ball; a time when everyone around me was genuine; a time when I didn’t want to lock myself away and hide. “Life isn’t fair.” I thought to myself. Rage began to surge through my veins, the tears halted their flow and a wry smile crept slowly across my face. I knew what I would do.

I stepped out of my front door, walking briskly. I turned left at the end of my drive. Then left. Then right. Right again. Left. I began to jog, moving forever faster through the park, ready to confront him.

Crouched down below the decking, searching for my lost coins. My jar of coins had been lost for nearly a year at that point, but that was no deterrence in my hunt. The front door flung open. I rotated quickly, disorientating myself in the process. After finding my bearings, I realised someone was mid-sentence. I clambered over to the epicentre of the noise.

“…it ain’t nothing to him or to us. Just leave it.” The voice was that of Charlie. I moved directly underneath the figures, listening intently.

“We’ve got to tell someone!” Exclaimed the second figure. I had deciphered that this was the voice of Billy. I was unsure as to what they were talking about at this point, but as the argument progressed it became more and more clear.