I'm not crazy, Just incredibly sane.

Emma has never been able to fit in on account of being different from the other children and finding it easier to talk to adults but they never take her seriously so she mostly keeps to herself. shes always wanted to know why shes different but when she finds out she realizes that the truth is more extreme than the ever imagined...


2. All alarm clocks must die!





I looked down at the mangled remains of my alarm clock, smashed into millions of tiny bits with some assistance from my fist, my book and eventually the bottom of my chair, the pathetic looking screen flicked briefly and showed the time (seven in the morning) before dying completely. I sighed and rolled out of bed in a vague hope that hitting the floor would jerk me awake but instead I just ended up lying on the floor instead only this time with little pieces of alarm clock sticking into my back. Not fun.


“Emma, What are you doing up there?” my mums voice made itself heard from downstairs “I hope you’re not fighting your alarm clock again you know how much…” I hit the on button for my stereo/ radio thing before I could hear any more life pointers directed at me.


I sighed and ran my hands over my acne ridden face and reached for my school cloths, getting dressed fast because I knew that the knock at my door would come in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…


Nock nock

Ahh so predictable.


“Umm… can I come in?”

“Wait a sec…” I pulled on my trousers and shirt “yeah come on in.”

My dad pushed the door but it got stuck on a pile of mess so he shuffled round it awkwardly and sat down on my bed.

“You should really clean this room, it’s a tip.”

“You should really look up hypocrite in a dictionary.”

He sighed. “Look all she’s trying to say is that were worried about you, a girl your age with no friends it’s not natural and you don’t seem to want to make friends with them ether! Normally a girl in your situation would break down in tears.”

“And what would a boy do?”

“Suffer in silence for a bit then get bored.”

“You boys get all the fun and anyway I already do the second part of that just not the suffering part.”

“Why not the suffering part?”

I sighed and flopped down on my bed pretending to be very interested in a book I’d randomly picked up from the floor.

“I just think…”

“Shh” I cut him off “this is fascinating”

“Well I’m glad you’re so engrossed in my novels. Tell me do you always read like that?”

“Uhh yeah, what’s so strange about it?”

“You’re holding the book upsidown for a start.”

I shrugged and continued pretending to read.

“Oh well, you know I’m in my study if you need me.”

“Sure dad now, be gone” I pointed at the door and heard him shuffling out again.


My dad’s a writer, in case you were wondering about ‘his novels’, he normally writes historical fiction about Vikings mainly. He’s a huge publishing success and I illustrate his books for him. In return he gives a wide birth to my chocolate tin. 

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