Letters To Myself

Book cover made by Movellas user Lily Anna!

*Completed standalone YA novel approx 57,000 words*

Winner of Nanowrimo 2017!

Seventeen year old Morwenna is struggling as a student in her school's sixth form. On top of that, she has to deal with a creepy house nearby with mysterious visions, her Mum expecting a baby and exploring privately her sexuality and identity. When things get rough at home, she decides to leave and start afresh but at what cost? Written in a mixture of diary entries/letters, poetry and prose, Letter To Myself tracks the life of a young girl over the course of a single year.

Only edited for spelling and grammar mistakes, plotline has not been edited. Suggested readership is 15+.


20. 20.

Dear Myself,
Just when you thought that life couldn't get any more complicated, the meeting for me happened. First it was Damien with some stupid kids being bullies and now me on trying to decide my goals and paths in life. Before the trip out, I cuddled Jasmine and whispered in her tiny ear that I wasn't going to let her down and I didn't want to be known as a disappointment to her in the future. She giggles a lot now which reassures everyone around by knowing she's happy and keen to explore the new surroundings in the bright lights inside and outside in the spring sun. Mum decided she wanted to tag along leaving Jasmine in the care of a family friend. The three of us approached the school and had a quick chat before heading in just to get our own points across.

The night before was mainly spent texting Michelle and finding out more about her. I haven't personally seen her since that day in Waterstones and the rude gesture incident but she's a great girl, feisty, fun but at the same time, really shy and cute. Truth is, I would love to spend a day out doing something fun such as going to the beach or a nice walk in the countryside somewhere. Just don't want any cows to chase me round a field though! She was online as I walked into the main reception of the school (an all too familiar sight) and so to distract me away from teachers and other members of staff, I texted her back just to keep the conversation following. Dad was also texting but Mum was keeping it casual by reading the latest issue of the school newsletter.

When we finally did enter the meeting room, my stomach was in knots as I took a seat and faced the head of sixth form Mrs Doorbridge. Don't get me wrong, she is a lovely person but sometimes, I feel that because of my failed grades, she's extremely fed up with me as a student. Her grey hair scraped back into a neat bun, she first started with congratulating all of us with the birth of Jasmine and then, all focus turned towards me and my subjects. The old plan to study Psychology, the mindsets of others and the way we act but that was then, a long time ago. Now, it was being in a room full of young children who have simply no idea about the struggles and downfalls in the world right now and educating them through the power of play and having a good time which I was leaning more towards.

Some students have tried sixth form and then walked away after one year and transferred to the City College to start afresh and even re-sit English or Maths (or both!) at GCSE level alongside their main course. Showing Mrs Doorbridge about the course I've applied for made frown lines appear on her forehead for a second and then smiling to show off her white, polished teeth once she realised just how practical the course was. The good news is that she personally has nothing against BTECs but she reiterated that I was quite brainy according to her and my old school records and ruling out University for definite would be a dumb move to make.

There is a chance that I could go and study a degree later on when I'm a lot older. The course that caters for that need is called Access to HE and is for over students over the age of nineteen who want to go to University but don't have the correct qualifications. That is the age that I am turning next year which is incredibly daunting.

Mum nods along with everything that Mrs Doorbridge is throwing at us, Dad flicks through prospectuses for local colleges since he found the whole BTEC premise to be a puzzle. I then get handed my Leavers Booklet which details all of the groups and responsibilities I've had at the school and sixth form which leaves me surprised just by how much I was involved in things earlier on in my school life. That was before this crazy little thing called anxiety walked right in and changed everything for me. I'm not staying on to repeat Year 13 because that would just add more stress and cause upset to my mental state of mind. Even with the support on offer, I just have had enough. Sitting in a classroom for almost eight hours just isn't a thing that I could cope with anymore. I could be changing the world and giving something back to the community rather than copying down notes from a whiteboard.

At the conclusion of the meeting Mrs Doorbridge shakes my hand and thanks me for everything I've done as a student and wishes me well for the future. Despite not really getting on with her at first, I've learnt that just having an open mind and getting on with people that you don't necessary like or have anything in common with actually is staying on the right side of tracks. Walking out towards the front of the school, I turned my head back and stared for a few seconds at the buildings of the campus that I would never walk through again and the areas where I used to have some pretty difficult memories of encounters with bullies and also good memories with friends fundraising for a local kid who needed a life-saving operation, that was full of laughs all dressing up as our favourite actors or characters from books.

Driving away, in my mind, I physically ticked off a life chapter in my mind. School was officially over and the world was on my doorstep. It's now up to me to walk out there and live a life that isn't controlled by school rules or strict expectations. Just going to be me. Michelle texts me again asking how the meeting went and that she misses my company. Smiling down at my lit phone screen, I replied that I missed her too but hesitated for a second before I tapped the send button. Goosebumps formed on my arm, a sign? That something could be more?

At home now and just eyeing a book that is screaming towards me to run over and pick up. The call is too strong for me to ignore.



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