The Family

Do you ever get that feeling like you don't belong, the sense of dis-connection to the people around you? Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it never seems to be enough? I'm not saying that I don't belong anywhere or anything, but a lot of what-if questions have been constantly floating around my brain and today's actions made them surface.

I'm always wondering what-if in regards to my own life. Did I make the right choice? Did I have to leave the country? What-if I never left home, would everything be the same in terms of relationships with my family? What-if me being here has caused a bigger strain on the bonds?

I could argue back and forth all night but it wouldn't get me any wore, if anything, it would drive me even crazier than I already am.

I'm happy with the decisions I have made so far, I feel like I belong in this part of the world. I may not have a close circle of friends, but I have always been a loner. I may not always be happy with certain situations,but I make the best out of them. No what is getting to me is the things |I've left behind to get to this point. My parents, my brother, my niece, friends and other members of my family. All they seem to do is  serve as a reminder to the things I am missing out on, inside jokes are left unexplained, being told not to say anything about family drama. So many things are pushing me further and further away from the life I once had. Conversations are strained, one-sided, I put on a happy face because they don't want to deal with any other emotion as it leads to the simple phrase "well come home then". Life is moving on with out me and I have no place in it any more. My life is here, on my own.

Somethings have been described as me over-reacting, things like my niece not wanting to talk to me (lets face it I am a stranger in her life now), pushing every month for my parents to visit ( which is me reminding them constantly because otherwise it will never happen - "lets wait until your settled" is always around the corner). Even upcoming visits home are deemed not important. Yes jokes are made about me not actually having a room to stay in because it belongs to the family dog, comments about having to get a taxi home from the airport because no-one wants to get out of their way to pick me up. things like make me feel like a chore rather than a daughter or a sister. I didn't go home at Christmas for the same reason, surprises would have turned into "now I'll have to go buy more things for us to eat, I'll have to find you something for a present" etc.

Is it punishment for actually doing something with my life, instead of being stuck in the same town I was born in and not being on drugs or living on the dole like the rest of my family?

Who knows. I feel myself pulling further away from, as a result. I'll just be the quick skype call once in a blue moon to remind them I do exist.


PS. I am happy. I am settled in my own life. I am healthy mentally and physically. Just expressing my emotions in this blog since discussing with my family will just end in "shape up, get over it..." sort of comments.

The End is Near

The end is near. Well for my contract in the Middle East that is. It is hard to believe that this time last year I had sent off my CV to a teaching agency on a whim. I wasn’t hoping to get an interview after all I hadn’t even completed the PCET course. I had a back plan of course – supply teaching. I didn’t want to raise my hopes for them to be knocked back down. Yet never in a million years would I have thought of applying for a full-time teaching position in the Middle East. For me to do that I would have to step out of my comfort zone and open myself to rejection on a grander scale.  Nevertheless I put myself out there and waited for the inevitable reply. I didn’t have to wait long though. A few days later and I received an offer letter to be signed and returned as soon as possible. Time after that seemed to pass in a blink of an eye.  A year on and I am currently going through the same progress – signing an offer letter for next yet.

The thing that has me most excited is my vacation time in July. I will be going home. Though I will only be in the UK for four weeks as I have my very own Euro-trip booked; by Euro-trip I mean Newcastle – Amsterdam – Rotterdam – Stockholm – Gothenburg. Hopefully my next summer vacation will include Finland, Hungary and Denmark. When discussing my plans with my family over skype, my brother appeared and stated I should visit Krakow, Poland. His reasoning for this, which is horribly amusing, is to see how many Polish live there since the UK is swarmed with them. Slightly racist brother I have there.

I have been thinking about my plans for the British summer and I realised I will definitely need to make time for my best friend’s first new-born baby.  I am so ecstatic for her. It’s surreal that the girl  I grew up with for eleven years is about to be a mother.  She’s all grown up now. It also reminds of my little girl waiting at home for me – my beautiful nightmare of a niece. I can’t wait to shower her in kisses and maybe cause some mischief around the town with her. My Lillie-bug is one hilarious child. I am so grateful that she hasn’t forgotten me. 

In other news, someone recently mentioned to me about remembering me when I have published my work and it got me thinking; why do I need to publish my work? Is it to earn money? For someone criticise my work publicly? So everyone knows who I am? If these are the reasons  then my answer is no. I write to let my feelings out. I am not bothered if no-one or everyone reads it. It’s my hobby, my own pleasure – no-one else’s. I may link my posts on social network sites, but that is so one of my good friends can read it- and nothing else.

I am currently in the middle of writing a book – continuing what I had started in university for an assignment. Again this is for me only; to see what I can accomplish. I remember listening to my English tutor say to me: “Even if you only write a 100 words a week, you can still write a  complete novella or even a novel, but it all depends on your state of mind and whether you want  to finish something you have started.” This stuck with me for 3 years, but I didn’t return to my story until recently. 

It’s amazing what changes a person can go through without really knowing. I am still the girl who watches the world rather than participates, but at the end of the day I know what risks are worth taking and which choices are simply unrealistic. Whether it’s my upcoming plans for the summer, or my continuous need to write something, I know life has plenty of things in store for me.

Well that s enough writing for now,

See you on the other side of the Internet

Melissa

Six month catch-up with MJR

So what is going on in the life of MJR. To be honest, absolutely nothing. Tumble-weed. Actually, tumble-weed probably has more of a life than I do lately. Let's get back to were I last left off - the honeymoon phase. Well that part didn't last long at all as it was over by October, and depression soon reared its' sad ugly head. Nothing really happened during October-December, just drinking and working. I wasn't really in the mood to do anything. However, during my two week vacation, I visited home and it soon made me realise that life in Al Ain wasn't that bad.  I didn't seem to fit in at home, and the atmosphere was terrible. It was nice seeing my family though, even if I did spend most of the time fighting with my parents or sleeping. Since my return to the UAE, I haven't really thought that much about home. Work has kept me on my toes. 12 weeks without a break has finally taken its toll on me. Work consumes five days of my week, and the last two are used for playing the sleep catch-up game. Nothing productive ever happens on Fridays and Saturdays. Work, eat, sleep. Three words that sum up my life quite perfectly. Thankfully, there are only two weeks left and then its vacation time. A much needed vacation time.

Well so far I have climbed a mountain - albeit in a car. The view was amazing, seeing the whole of Al Ain was a spectacular vision. I also attended the first game in the new Al Ain stadium. I hate football but it was a good day out even if I was hungover. The school also allowed us to attend the Red Bull AirRace in Abu Dhabi. Again I hate planes...but the whole twisting and turning and the aerobatic show afterwards was immense.

It's hard to believe that 6months has gone by, and only 4 months till I can visit the UK again. I can't wait to get a decent social life. My personal life here is quite abysmal. Lent has made it quite hard to enjoy the past 10 days as well. No fast food, no chocolate, no alcohol, no pleasures. However, I did cheat - I accidentally ate chocolate courtesy to Sheenal's cake-in-a-cup. It was only due to the fact that I was amazed that a cake could be made in a cup in just 90 seconds. It tasted so delicious. Luckily, the no alcohol rule is still standing. I have been placed in temptations way quite a lot.

Speaking of temptations, the reason why I have used MJR in my post is because of a new nickname that I have acquired during my time here. I normally hate nicknames but this one I kind of like. Obviously it's my initials, but it's simple. Maybe I only liked it because of the person who gave me it. When he says MJR, it's like velvet rolling of his tongue. He is a bass player in the local bar I attend - yeah I seem to attract the bassists - but he's rather sweet when he wants to be. His cute ass has also gotten me in to trouble a few times too. Crazy bitches following him around have expressed their distaste in me knowing him; hey that's another story that could take forever to type up. Anyways enough about him and more about my vacation.

So two weeks and two days off will finally give me a chance to see Dubai. That's right. I have lived here for 6 months and all I have seen is Dubai airport and Abu Dhabi beach. I will be venturing out by myself as the others will be on their holidays in other countries. I don't mind going alone, but some company would be nice. So I've planned for Dubai, Abu Dhabi and maybe Oman if I can fit it in to my budget. Who knows.

Well this is all I can be bothered to type at the moment. I'm sure those that read this have me on social network sites can catch-up with me on there.

University Stories Part 2: Where My Demons Hide

N.B: The following story have been edited (though incomplete) though your comments on improving the stories are recommended. 

Where My Demons Hide

Prologue

Mörk drew a knife from his jet black trousers and quietly picked the lock of the door. His master's task may seem cruel and unjustified to the mortals, but to Mörk and those of his world it was simply second nature - kill or be killed. He knew he was a cold-blooded creature that didn't care for any human being in the world; his father had made sure of that. Mörk childhood had held no happy memories, for it was marked only by abuse he had been subjected to by his father; cold, familiar words blaring fresh in his consciousness as his jacket rubbed against old lash wounds. "You should never feel fear. You should be the creator of fear. You are a being of power." There was no longer any blood running through his body, just pure venom.

His kind, the majestic Giant race, lived undetected and safe in the mountains of Fjällhästen. He wouldn't exactly call it home though, no, home suggested a place of warmth and loving - he had experienced neither. The humans had no idea what was happening right under their noses. Cold-blooded gen-one immortals, those whom have suffered abuse from their parents from a young age during their training to show and feel no emotion were at war with a human-immortal hybrid. No matter how discreet the war is in the mortal world, the humans always ended up in the cross-fire. None of these creatures could let the greater world find out what was happening. 

 **********************************

 "Dammit" A quiet voice went unquestioned in the ridiculously small lounge. Astrid's eyes glared at the ancient television displaying an unsuccessful repeat of a show that should not have been aired once never mind again. Below the television sat a dilapidated coffee table which most definitely could not remember its better days. No matter how much she wished for a better life than one she was living, her career prospects were not exactly reachable.

It was for her little angel Darcy that Astrid struggled onwards, making the best of her poor situation. Miss Darcy-Elizabeth was her life and the only happiness Astrid could allow herself, for all the money she earned at a local bar went on little Darcy's happiness. Her little girl wasn't spoilt; Mattie just wanted to provide her with a normal and healthy childhood since hers wasn't particularly special. Her parents tried to provide what they could, given the circumstances of her working class background, and she could tell they were struggling financially but the love and attention was all she ever needed. If only they were here she thought. She could use her parents right now. Fresh tears started to fall from her eyes. Quickly she wiped them away before she started the whole expression of grief again.

She tried a new direction of thought, something to distract her from the pain. But she had nothing. Not even the simple action of letting her imagination run wild just like the books she would read. That pleasure always ended up with heartbreak, with romance and Prince Charming being her clichéd thoughts. How she ended up being a 23 year old single mother with a 2 year old daughter, was beyond her. Not that she regretted the events which led to this situation. The part that annoyed her was the fact that her childhood sweetheart had found a new love interest in her close friend. Her love life now was more drastic. She never felt like she needed to be with anyone else. She never wanted someone else to disappear from Darcy's life.  Her insecurities of not being beautiful enough for love always had her thinking of herself being a plain-Jane girl.

Her eyes had just closed when they quickly re-opened as she realised that Darcy hadn't woken up to see where she was at. Her daughter was like that, acting like a mother towards her, the roles being reversed. She always knew when Astrid was upset or just needed comforting. She slowly moved herself off the couch and headed towards the bedroom of her small and dingy flat. Opening the creaky door, that needed to be sorted out, she looked into the room and found her daughter fast asleep clutching her little Care-bear with small hands. She quietly crept into the room and crawled into the bed and held her protectively against her chest. What she would do to give this sleeping beauty a stable life. Her eyes started to feel heavy and began to close, but she never felt safe enough to get a well needed sleep. The room itself was full of damp, and had the temperature of a snowy day. Still her body protested until she finally gave in. Just this once though.

Startled by a noise, Astrid's eyes flew open. Her body froze. Was it her imagination? Or had the water pipes burst again? A little shaken, she rolled out of bed and crept towards the door.

 **********************************

The front door opened with a slight creak. He came to a halt, and listened for any disturbance that he had created. Nothing. Moving forward with silent footsteps, he scoured the room for any sign of human life. He quickly headed towards the door besides the kitchen, and in his haste he knocked off a glass that hadn't been placed correctly on the  worn wooden side table. No amount of power he possessed would have hidden that noise. "Djävlar!" Yes, he knew she was behind that door and it had disturbed her, but it wouldn't help by attracting attention to himself just yet.

He heard small and soft footsteps moving across the room behind the door he was currently heading towards, when all of a sudden they stopped. The handle started to move downwards and the door opened slowly. Mörk put his hand into his pocket attached to his jacket, retrieving a cloth doused in chloroform; fortunately for Astrid , the amount used was not enough to kill, merely to subdue.
As the door opened, the human revealed herself. With no time to waste he brought the cloth to her face and smothered her mouth and nose. She kicked and squirmed trying to escape. Such a
Dumskalle! he thought. Such a stupid little human. A few moments later she fell limp into his arms. As he flung her over his shoulder his gaze fell upon another human lying soundlessly asleep, unaware of the commotion surrounding her.  "Great, what am I to do now?" he said to himself; no point in being quiet since he had his main target. The only thing he could do was dump the unconscious body into the back of the van.

Still he felt no emotions for what he was about to do but he wished he did. Did he really have to act so callously towards the female? Yes.

Mörk moved swiftly back to the house and picked up the other human, which he noticed was a little baby girl who seemed to sleep like the dead. Heading back to the van once more, he opened the door in a quick movement then stopped, frozen. An unknown feeling came across him. He looked at the little one and re-thought his of acting so harsh. He carefully laid her across the seat and wove together a makeshift baby seat with his hands. Thin pieces of thread weaved in and out of one another until the process was complete. Magic. One way of using my power for something other than death. He fastened the human's daughter next to the driver's seat and climbed in. With a quiet hum of the engine turning, he drove off into the silent and deadly night. This had been the only time he had actually been close to feeling something like emotion. Love.
 

 **********************************

Astrid awoke with an oppressive headache. She hoped that what she had seen was a weird dream, something her mind had created which normally happened living in the place she did. Her eyes opened and it was completely dark with a little light coming through a gap in the wall, and instantly she knew something was up. She tried to open her mouth and realised she couldn't –something was stopping her. Her hands reached up to remove the offending object and noticed her hands were tied together with some sort of rough material. What the-moving her gaze to her feet, she found rope around her ankles. Ok no need to panic. Actually maybe I do. I can't scream I can't move. No this is all a dream I will close my eyes again and open them and then maybe I will be back at home in my God-damn uncomfortable bed. She thought. Then she realised, the vivid nightmare she had last night wasn't a nightmare, it was reality. And this - Where was Darcy? Her baby Darcy. She felt her eyes starting to close again. NO she mentally shouted. She had to stay awake. She had to find a way out and find Darcy. Only she couldn't. Her body slumped against the wall as she slipped under a fog of confusion again.

A sudden jerk woke her up once more. She looked around and again saw nothing. She didn't have much time to process where she was at as light poured into the darkness and pain shot through her eyes.

"Good you're up." A rough voice came from somewhere in front of her. "Now I'm going to take off this tape from around your mouth if you promise not to make noise. I can't deal with that silly response right now. Nod your head if you are going to scream"

She automatically nodded her head. She wanted someone to possibly notice her and the monster of a man. However it seemed that this guy was a violent type as she felt a sting in her cheek. Her eyes widened and tears began to flow.

"I'll ask you again, are you going to scream if I take this off you?" his voice sounded even rougher and scarier than the last time. She shook her head. As much as she wanted to scream, her body simply wouldn't allow it; she had no energy, no willpower to refuse.

"Well done" he said, this time patronising and evil. His hand went to rip the tape when he stopped "actually I think I will leave this on since you will probably scream when it tears your skin apart." What surprised her after he had spoken was the sound that came out after those seemingly kind words, was his laugh. It was beautiful but dark. It sent shivers down her spine and she daringly took a glance at her kidnapper.

 **********************************

Take that as a no then! Astrid thought. Her poor angel would be scared and alone. How she wished she could comfort her. At least she could speak aloud although, that would be the only positive thing to come out of this mess. She looked around in the dark room, with the only light visible from a small oil lamp barely lighting anything. In the far corner she could make out a worn out mattress no doubt crawling with bugs and other flesh eating things. Urgh. If it was the only chance she would have at comfort it would have to do. Though the obvious question she wondered was; how the hell would she get over there? Her hands and feet seemed like they were on fire. Rope became the only restriction of moving. After moments of deliberation and numbness, she rolled awkwardly to the other side, noticing that the smell of death was becoming worse with each passing second.

She could feel the rising of bile in her sore throat, and tried to block out the awful stench. Finally, she manoeuvred herself onto the mattress and fatigue began to creep upon her. Hold tight Darcy! was the last thing floating around before she succumbed to the darkness.

It was too quiet in the room, far too quiet for a human to be dead. Though how that was possible Ansgar could not know. He eyes bore into Mörk's searching for the answer, the truth. Was she dead or alive? He actually hoped it was the latter for the sake of both of theirs lives. But he could honestly say that he wanted her to be alive for the sake of his brother. Mörk needed to some to care for him. Someone like he had. His own saviour; his own Bjørg. His life had been a living hell until she entered his life, making the dark light, the bad good and his world worth living. He hoped that Mörk would not complete this mission and run with the female. But no, he had to follow orders and remain heartless. Yet Ansgar knew his brother's heart was there somewhere. He had to have some emotions buried deep somewhere inside himself.

The idiotic master had gone too far this time. Taking an innocent human and bringing her into the world of Chaos and Death. It was tempting to kill the bastard to end this suffering but it was the biggest sin. To kill the creator was to kill you. If everyone wasn't living in a hell already they had to through that in to the fine print. His hand raised slowly as to signal his brother to move out the way.

"I cannot allow you to do that" Mörk argued. His eyebrow lifted in authority. Though he was always silent, no one protested against his actions without reason.

"She… she.. oh goddammit your going to find out anyway." Mörk stammered trying to find the words to describe his failure.

Yet Ansgar knew what he was going to say and silenced him with his eyes. His curse. His blue eyes made anyone fall under his power. He made his way stealthily to the door, with his hand paused on the handle. "I know she is alive. He stated to have her killed and I know why you didn't. But you must face the consequences of your actions I'm afraid brother. I wish I could save you this time but it is merely impossible"

Mörk glanced towards his only partner with a stunned look on his face. He had spoken for the first time in many months. Yet he did not know what he meant. Consequences? He knew why he didn't kill her? What was he talking about? He wished he could open his mouth to speak but Ansgar's power forbid him of such action. The power of silence was much greater than his. He could kill, he could weave atoms out of thin air into armour or other needed material but he could not make himself speak. Stunned into silence, he watched as Ansgar entered the room and beckoned him to follow. He wished he knew what was going to happen to the female now that she had been found alive. A heavy feeling fell upon his heart.

Upon his entrance to the dark cell-like room, he looked as to where he left her and found she had gone. His was momentarily puzzled until the slight sound of breathing was heard in the far corner. The cast of the light gave of the appearance of an halo around the female's head making her seem more angel-like than she already looked. How he wanted to know what this feeling was and why it was happening.

Ansgar gave a knowing look towards the female and Mörk and desired to save both of their lives, still nothing could be done. His feet headed towards the sleeping female and noticed the ropes burning through her flesh. Giving his brother a pointing look, he ordered him to remove them. Poor girl he thought. What a world to be brought into. He knew why she was here but was it necessary to bring her not some other human baring the mark. He knew it was callas of him to think that but this female had a life ahead of her. It would have been easier to capture one that was alone and living in poor conditions, one that probably didn't have family out looking for her.

Other the breaths coming from her tiny mouth where heard that was until the ropes set her free. It seemed Mörk had noticed the delicate moan escaping from her lips as he started to shift nervously, his feet twitching from where he was stood. A smirk appeared upon his face as he took in his brother's uneasiness. It was times like this that he missed the old times when they would laugh at each other's discomfort. Ridding himself of the past, he began to look at the problem just under his nose.

Mörk grumbled under his breath. He was unsure why her sigh of relief began to excite him, a feeling he hadn't felt forever. This female was beginning to get on his nerves. Was she sent to torment him? Make him feel things he shouldn't, such feelings that were forbidden and cursed upon. Yet the sight of her made him feel at peace with himself. Oh how he wished for them to be normal beings then maybe he would feel right about his emotions instead of feeling guilt. Her body began to curl into a protective ball yet her arms were searching for something or someone. Someone. Shit. Ansgar looked at him expectedly and felt himself removed from his power. He knew he had some explaining to do. But what to say exactly? Oh yeah, it turns out that not only was there one mark in there but two.

"Please tell me you did not say that" Ansgar said with an almost begging tone to it. It was clear he had better start telling everything that happened straight from the beginning. And so he did.

Ansgar's face begun to contort in pain throughout his recall and it was a sign that things were just about to get worse. Though how much worse was to remain unsaid.

 **********************************

(N.B. this part of the story happens a few years later after the kidnapping...I've lost the part of the story and will have to rewrite it again)

 **********************************

She had spotted him from across the bar. His eyes had distracted her; something that had made her freeze. The icy blue bore into hers. She silently questioned what colour her eyes were. Would they be hazel with curiosity or green with lust? Whatever the colour, she knew it wouldn't end well for one of them - one of them would be dead. Which outcome would be the worst was something she wasn't sure off.
             Humans tended to live a short insignificant life, barley accomplishing anything but a ceiling of debt as she had found out over the years.  Yet there was something about this human that questioned both her destiny and his. He seemed almost otherworldly and was definitely going to be the end of her. He was almost familiar. It was almost a silly thought; just because his eyes had this strange power over her, it did not mean that she had to do something about it. Despite her efforts to tear her eyes away from his, there was a strange pull in her body, almost like it wanted something. She had an unexplained urge to move from the quiet corner she was residing in. Her mind was a battlefield to understand what was happening to her, until she eventually gave in. Why not give her body what it wanted, what harm could possibly occur from saying hello. But she didn't want to say hello, she wanted him - Mr. blue eyes. She wanted him now. The craving for him was growing stronger with each second that passed. She wanted to wrap her fingers around that neck of his - make him feel pain. Yet the other side of her wanted to be underneath him.
            Conflicted, she gazed back to his eyes. This could go terribly wrong, but she didn't care. She walked over with a purpose and without letting him open his mouth, she introduced herself as Astrid and grasped his hand. Taking a chance, she held her gaze to this human and the look he gave was surprising. His eyes were glowing with a possessive need. She had seen the look in men's eyes when they stared at something that they wanted to claim as their own. Almost primal. Could she take the risk with him? Have one night of pure lust and leave him in the morning alive.

              It appeared he had decided this staring contest was going on for too long, as the grip on their joined hands had tightened, and she was to follow his lead. Together they moved as one, heading from the bar to the private room at the back. She was now the submissive, forced to follow him into the dark room. Suddenly he halted  and grabbed her face. The nature of the action caused Astrid to momentarily panic. Was he changing his mind? Did he not want this any more? But before she could let the words leave her mouth, she heard a deep voice in her ear.
"My name is Mörk" he said, almost growling at her.

He thought she was an angel; her smile light up the bar and her eyes were brighter than any star he had seen in the night sky. She was dressed in a tight white dress that allowed her womanly curves to be shown in all the right places. His pants strained as he imagined touching her skin, feeling her underneath him. Her body was made for him only. If only she would recognise him. Mörk found his hands moving across her bare shoulders. He wanted to tease her skin, make her beg for more. He needed to hear her moans of pleasure. He would take her and seduce her body all night. He couldn't understand why he was behaving this way. He was sent to kill this woman for definite this time yet something strange stirred up inside of him every time he was near her. He wanted to devour her body, he wanted to feel her soul. He wanted to rip of her clothes.

Astrid felt the atmosphere change.Amidst the lust cloud was under she remembered what he had said. Mörk. The creature that haunted her nightmares and teased her dreams. Mörk face now had the look of a wild animal that chasing its' prey. She was about to be hunted and it didn't scare her. She was excited, aroused. She wanted to be caught in his trap even if he was to take her last breath.

I see hell in your eyes

Taken in by surprise
Touching you makes me feel alive
Touching you makes me die inside 
                                                      Slept so Long - Jay Gordon (Queen of the Damned OST)

Saturday night. A night were I would normally spend it planning for the lessons the next day. However, on a rare occasion I had the Sunday off. To celebrate this, me and a few of my fellow friends decided to have a night out; and as per usual we ended up in Paco's. What a surprise! Though hindsight would have been a useful thing to have before I went out. My first omen was drinking wine. Wine is my weakness, my kryptonite. Seriously it makes me so emotional that I cry at everything and anything.

1) 'First cry of the night' award goes to Diesel band and their rendition of Red, Red, Wine (UB40). Sorry guys, but being far away from my parents I was bound to get homesick at some point and unfortunately this was the moment in time were it would decide to appear. My dad. Yes I am a daddy's girl and this song reminded me of him. Whenever this song would be played I could always guess the next words that come out of his mouth "do you know what UB40 stands for?" and if I said no it was result in a long conversation about the 'Unemployment Benefit, Form 40'. My dad has to have the last word and always has to be right. That my friends is where I get my stubbornness from and my bitchy attitude.

2) 'Worst cry of the night' award goes to getting my extensions caught in my hair. Normally it wouldn't bother me getting my hair all tangled up since it happens on a daily occasion. However, add alcohol and pent up frustration to the mix then tears will be the end result. A very pitiful thing to cry at, something I am sure of.

3) 'Very emotional cry of the night' award for the second time goes to Diesel band. Other nights I have listened to them perform Zombie (The Cranberries) and Linkin Park my mind just lost it. Too many memories came flooding back at once and the tears just poured. Childhood memories, recent memories, family, friends, those I left behind. Homesickness what something I thought I would experience at random intervals during my time here.

For now I will be staying away from the wine and stick to other drinks and hopefully the emotional roller-coaster will subside.

Melissa

                        

29.08.2013

This was the day that would forever change my life.

I didn’t get much sleep the night before – which is quite normal when you are anxious for the upcoming events. I woke up on the Thursday roughly about six am feeling fine. Getting dressed, finishing off my packing, making sure I had everything and still my stomach was fine. Things were looking good.

My uncle decided he was driving my mother, grandfather and I to the airport. This was the first time we had a sort of outing together in a family; what a time to do it. The journey to Newcastle International was pleasant enough. The family laughing and chatting away to each other, getting lost even when using the Sat Nav, everything was great.

Shortly afterwards, we were there. It started to rain. The rain appeared as soon as we hit the airport and I took that as an omen for what was going to happen; a bad omen. Since I had checked in online and printed out my boarding pass already it seemed like everything was going my way. My checked/cabin luggage weighed under the limit, my visa passed through ok and soon enough I received my flight ticket. Seat 26C on board the Emirates aircraft – a seat I had chosen myself.

I said goodbyes to my family just before the security check, making sure I didn’t cry in front of the family. I’m quite positive that if I cried, I would back out and head home. Getting my passport ready, I could feel my heart starting to beat out of my chest. It would appear that my nerves had finally arrived. Even the Security officer had noticed on my ‘flushed’ appearance.  I explained that I hadn’t flown in five years and in return I received a sympathetic look. This was where my bad luck decided to shine.

Reaching the luggage control, I placed my items into the given trays. I even made sure that my laptop was screened separately, my coat pockets were empty and my jewellery was removed. Time for the scanner, and of course it decided to beep as I walked through. All I could think of was fabulous. All I heard after was ‘please remove your shoes and watch’. Watch. Of course I left my watch on. Five minutes later the female officer had decided I had been frisked enough and let me through and it was time to collect my belongings. I quickly tried to repack my cabin bag squeezing everything in, and then I realised ‘where was my phone at?’  I searched through my bag, my pockets and to no avail it wasn’t there. Luckily a security officer had found it still in the tray that someone else had put back.

Finally, after a shaky start, I headed through to the departure section of the airport. I found my flight on the screens dotted around and saw that I had plenty of time to relax, to chill out. I headed towards an empty seat and munched on the sandwiches I had made earlier that day. As much as I wanted to feel relaxed, my mind simply wouldn’t let me. My hands were all shaky and sweaty. My stomach all twisted and knotted. My heart exploding in my chest was the final straw. I headed round to the entrance of the departure gates and rang my mum. I had five minutes to go and even she wasn’t enough of a comfort to me.

Flight EK036 to Dubai is now boarding at gate 26.

Making my way down the stairs, my nerves were reaching an all-time high. Alone, scared, nervous – not a good combination. Then a tear escaped. Not now. Please don’t cry in front of all these people I told myself.  After what felt like a long moment in time, my seat number was called. This was it; time to get on that plane. As soon as I hit the fresh air, more tears made their way down my cheek. I wanted to run back inside. Did I have to fly? I hated flying to begin with, but when flying with family it was almost easier. Here I had no-one and I was to be sat beside two strangers. I finally made it up the wobbly steps to the plane and to my seat; the tears had finally subsided. For how long though? I tried to focus on the screen in front of me, and even that seemed to mock me. Since technology had improved, the aircraft designers thought that they would install cameras around the outside of the plane so the passengers could watch the world pass by.

13.35 and it was time to take off. Well soon as the plane was moved into position on the runway, I broke down. I quietly cried into my scarf trying to disguise my emotions. It must have been more obvious than I thought as one air hostess tried to give me a reassuring smile from the other side of the plane, and one male cabin crew put his hand on my shoulder and asked ‘Are you okay honey’. I simply nodded my head. It was all I could manage without screaming ‘get me off this plane!’

Newcastle airport started to speed past as the plan made its way up in the air. My stomach dropped as I realised there was no going back now. The stranger next to me patted my on the arm and said ‘it’s okay, you will be fine’.  I explained the situation I was in and suddenly I felt fine. Sure the nervousness of flying was there, but every word the lady next to me had said reassured me.

Seven hours had finally gone by and it was time to land. I didn’t cry much on the way back down to the ground, but as the wheels hit the runaway I panicked. I remember all the previous landings I had ever been a part of but not once was there a screech of the wheels hitting the tarmac and the plane swaying to one side. You could actually feel the plane tip slightly as the pilot tried to steady its balance.  I would be grateful when my feet would feel the ground again.

Skipping ahead a few minutes of getting lost, I made my way towards passport control. Half an hour later it was my turn for my passport to be checked. Due to the nature of my eye-sight I have to wear glasses, but it was clear this was inappropriate for me to do at this moment in time. To make sure the person in the passport was definitely me, I had to remove the glasses and have my face run a smart facial recognition programme. The officer stamped my visa and my passport and I was on my way. Just as I entered terminal 5 at baggage claim, I saw my suitcase make its way around the carousel. The timing couldn’t be any more perfect.  And as luck would have it, the bad luck came flying through.

I had been told previously that a member of staff would be collecting me from the airport, but what they had failed to mention was where he/she would be meeting me exactly. Well after two hours of searching, crying, stressing and panicking I found my name amongst the crowd. The person definitely was not happy to see me. ‘Two hours I wait for you’. I just apologised and said I got lost. What more could I do. Turn back the time? The journey from Dubai International to my accommodation was unpleasant and scary. The driver was a maniac – swerving on the roads, nearly swiping the sides of other cars and driving with no hands sometimes. I sure felt like my time was up and I was to die on the roads of the UAE.

Ninety minutes later I had arrived at Madar School Accommodation. It was 4am before I reached room 116. I was happy just to have a bed at that moment in time. Locking the door behind and dumping my suitcase in the middle of the floor, I collapsed on the bed. That was enough for one night.

One month to go...

It really amazes me how each day has the same amount of seconds, minutes and hours, yet they pass by quicker than the last. It only felt like a few days ago when I received an email containing an
'acceptance of the offer' letter. In fact I signed the form little over a month ago. It seems that life is going so fast that my mind cannot comprehend what is happening.

There is one thing that keeps me up awake, making the night last longer; and that is all the people I will miss.

1) My mum - I will miss the 10am wake up call that she manages to give me every morning. I will miss the annoying 'just checking your still alive' phone calls. I will miss the snarky and bitchy comments we make at each other when one of us is clearly not in the mood. Yet most of all I will miss her warmth and love that a mother gives her child.
2) My dad - I don't really see him that much due to him working away all the time but I will miss the comments he gives when we do unite... (so you're a dumb blonde now...by your putting on the weight and so on). I will miss the arguments were one of us has to be right no matter what. I will definitely miss getting my random hugs from him when I'm feeling down, lonely, or even just bored.
3) My brother - He may have his own family now, and his own house, but I will miss the random phone calls, his way of conning lifts from me, and all the dead arms I receive when trying to beat him up.  I know Jacqueline and Lillie will keep him occupied.
4) My niece -I will miss the way she says 'missa'. I will miss all of her little attitudes she has. I will miss her hugs and kisses and the way she wakes me up in the morning. I will miss her little laugh and her demanding ways.

I could go on like this with everyone in my family, and those that I hold dear to my heart. I will miss the new friends I made throughout my time at school, college and university (both under and post- grad). I will miss my annoying but amusing colleagues from work. I definitely will not miss the early phonecalls asking to come in asap or the phonecalls at night changing shifts. But my time there has been wonderful.

There are people at work who I will miss more then some (sorry) but that's due to the time spent with each individual. There will be one person I will definitely miss. Their ability to make me laugh when I'm annoyed, their acceptance of my bitchy nature or my attitude when I'm on coffee or had no sleep.

It is crazy how many people enter and leave your life all the time, but the memories created along the way will serve me a lifetime of happiness.

Am I ready to go out in to the world alone? - no, but I will do my darn hardest to make the most of what life has given me. 

In the name of...

...love

To let someone go because you loved them and it seemed like the right thing to at the time, is just utter bullsh*t. In my defence, I do believe that I loved him but I never let him go because of that. I let him go because of silly insecurities that got too much. Silly thoughts that crept into my mind way too many times every day.

How is it possible to let a thought consume so much of my daily life is surely baffling. But it's not just this that has my life all in a tizz. January 9th, saw me break my foot after a night out. From then I went through the stages of anger, self-pity, stress, and depression; just in a total of four weeks. It was during this time that I finally had a grasp on my life, of what I actually wanted. The list is as follows:

1) A career. Yes surely that is a given but I actually want to teach. My placement at HMP Durham has been a real eye opener. To see those turn to crime because of their upbringing, or as a student told me "they never got the chance to go to school and stay there", was shocking. I left one lesson with a smile on my face as one had stated " I really enjoyed that lesson Miss, I felt like I learnt something". It made me feel proud, like I had accomplished something.

2) A family. Someday I want to settle down with my own boyfriend/partner/husband, with whatever children I am blessed with. Again, the near loss of my nana opened my eyes to how cruel life can be. One minute your on the road to recovery, just to take what seems like 10 steps back, towards death's door again. Hopefully, my nana will get better soon, and positive energy will be restored into the family. It feels like the full family is drained emotionally. Events like this do make you appreciate what you have, and that you can't take life for granted. Even if it is short, you have to live it.

3) My life. I want to live a life that is mine. Dreams and goals that are mine. But this also includes having a healthy life. I don't want to be really skinny again, that's not me. I just want to be happy and free. I suppose I will feel that way again once the stress of waiting on test results passes, and when my Nana is home again. I want to find happiness with someone. Someone who will let me have my insecurities, but will help me through them, instead of dismissing them like they are nothing. Someone to understand that I need a compromise, not me putting in all the effort to make something work.  Someone that understands I need my space.

I could write a conclusion to this post but its not necessary. I am what I am, and what I want I will achieve. Someday.

Facts of Life

After reading a blog from a father who lost his little boy to a Rhabdoid tumour, and knowing that I lost my favourite aunty in 2011, it came to my attention that the life I'm living is just as short as the 24 hours in a day. Who cares that the end of the world is near. Who cares that the Mayan Calender ended this year. Who cares that a super-volcano may erupt and cause a nuclear winter, block out the sun and potentially kill of the human race one by one. What I do care is that life needs to be lived for each minute in each hour in each day.
It may seem that every time someone dies that I think life should not be taken or granted, but after some thinking I feel as though I need to act on the things I say I will do. So after I publish this post, I will get to work on my "bucket-list". I am aware that I am not dying but what is to say that I wont die tomorrow, or the next day or the next. No one is ever sure. Life is one thing that us humans cannot predict, and even if we could, I wouldn't want to know. How could you live with yourself knowing what was to happen. Even if you tried to change the way it happened, and managed to succeed. Something equally as drastic would just take its place.

One of those days....

Yes. One of those days it is. Were everything annoys me. From the little gasps of breathe coming from my mother's mouth, to the footsteps that make a mouse sound like an elephant. But it's not just the noise that is annoying me, it just the mere presence of people in the same vicinity as me. Knowing that some one is sharing the same oxygen as me, annoys me. Oh how even the word annoy is starting to annoy me. If only I had a remote control that a had a mute button, life would be perfect. Just block out all offending noises.

I wish I had a bubble were I could plop myself into, and hide myself away from the world. You would think I would lock myself in my room, oh how that would be nice. But that would require a lock and some heavy sound-proofing around the house. I'm at the point now were I cannot even name the mood I'm in. It's not anger, frustration or any other negative, its just there.

At least I can vent out to this piece of metal and not get annoyed. Then again....

That Feeling...

So. 
That's all I have to say at the moment. Life is finally getting back on track after the most dreadful start to the month.  August has seen its fair share of ups and downs, more than a bloody yo-yo; and that's saying something. Though the downs were pretty bad, I did have my silver lining. Which happened to the best thing that's happened in a while. 

On a more random note....

The above pic reminded me that I needed some more cotton buds. Actually I need to replace the ones I took from my mam hehe. 

Another so...
I miss my sleep. Lately a problem with my shoulder has been preventing me from sleep and work. Though snuggles from a certain person makes the pain go away..if only for a little while. Though I'm missing them. 

On a side note, Hey There Delilah was on the radio this morning and brought back some weird memories. Good memories. In fact, I might stick this song onto my iPod.  

A Little Revenge

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
William Shakespeare

Today I had the unfortunate experience of being picked up and shoved into a supermarket freezer by my dad. To be fair, I deserved some sort of revenge, just not to that extent. See when me and my dad go anywhere, we act like two little kids. I just happened to lose. 
Now this freezer business was due to the fact I annoyed my dad a little too much. Why he chose the freezers with many people in the aisle, I do not know. I truly had made one little kid's day. 

As for my revenge. I have a plan. I simply shall not revenge. I shall move on and forget. Did I say not revenge? Well I meant just yet.  
After all, there is method in the madness.