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+.

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23. 23.

Dear Myself,
Home life has become unbearable. After the romantic moments with Michelle, I ended up back at home a lot later than my parents would have liked. When the rowing started, that's when my feelings and attitudes towards my place and role at home changed. Since Mum was still on maternity leave, being around her most of the time became very uncomfortable. Michelle had popped round once to see me but had faced an angry parent who was adamant on keeping the two of us apart. I didn't get the job at the garden centre but Bea, the manager made a lovely reference about me and wished the seeking for a job well. Secretly, I think Mum must have visited her and tried to make it look like I was a bad influence. With the trust issues, I don't trust anyone and sadly, not even the girl I love.

Things came to a head the day before my City College interview in which I was trying to cook some food for Damien and on ending up burning it and setting the smoke detector off, Mum comes in with screaming Jasmine and starts having a go at me for causing a racket. That's when I finally hit off. The plate that I was planning to use to serve up Damien’s food I grabbed and smashed down onto the marble floor with a huge crash. Jasmine immediately shut-up with the tears and my brother gasped at what he had just witnessed. I tell her that if she thinks I'm a waste of space then I am more than happy to move out and find my own digs, being with the people I love and truly do support me. I leave them in the kitchen, race upstairs and start to pack up my items.

Clothing, various books, technical equipment, snacks, random bits and bobs. I almost left you behind Diary but somehow, the little sense I had left inside me remember to grab you and tuck the pages inside one of the suitcases I had with me. Just to make it clear that leaving was going to happen, I chucked my sleeping bag down the stairs followed by my snack bag and then a rucksack. The pull-along suitcase thudded down the stairs with a massive bang each time it went down one. Damien joined me in the hallway and said if I was really leaving to which I nodded giving him a quick hug. As a twelve year old, he shouldn't have witnessed the scene but he knows that I can't stay here anymore. With no sign of Mum or Jasmine, I open the front door grabbing my things and start to walk towards the bus stop. Frantically texting Michelle telling her to meet me soon.

Then on the bus, I called her sobbing because I needed to hear the voice that I had fallen in love with at first sight, so gentle and sweet. But she wasn't picking up. A horrible nightmare until I spotted her standing on the street wearing a dressing gown and waving. After helping me get all of the bags off of the bus, she pulled me into her embrace and I sobbed so hard that I almost knocked her into the road. Wrapping her arm round mine, we walked towards her house and up some stairs. It is an enormous place which is perfect for hide and seek on a rainy day. On the top floor was her bedroom and a guest room which smelt of fresh paint and had a lovely array of furniture with a TV. Michelle offered to help me unpack which together we did. Clothes in the wardrobe, make-up bag on the dressing table and you secretly tucked away behind the bedside table. Even if you are found by her, I want her to know that I truly love everything she is.

I crawled back into bed in an unfamiliar territory to try and numb the discomfort, hurt and pain from the morning’s events. Not the best way to prepare for an interview. I never heard back from the other job I had found but deep down, I just needed some space from everyone. The lack of sleep really impacted me the following morning as the two of us travelled down to the City College and not knowing what to say regarding my current situation. Some other teens, mainly girls, were all waiting in the foyer and talking about how much they loved children. A few weeks ago, I would have smiled and joined in the chat but now, I only looked towards Michelle and her beautiful body that never left my mind.

The welcome chat and activity went well but at the actual interview stage, they wanted to double check my address to which I replied that since applying, I had moved to another address. When asked if this permanent, I honestly stated that I wasn't sure. Showing them my grades and just talking about the interest with children, my heart knew I hadn't got the place. Outside in the rain, she was waiting for me and on seeing my pained expression, said what ever happened regarding the final outcome, she would always love me and her feelings wouldn't change. Grabbing a milkshake on the way home, I hadn't spoken to my family overnight but right now, it was far too soon to make any attempt to make peace with them. For the course, I needed to be at a firm address and hopefully, it would be Michelle’s. Her family are the sweetest of people and cook delicious Italian food which I sampled extensively despite my depressive spell.

Back at the house, I decided to brighten up the bedroom with some of my lovely girl’s old posters from years gone by. She then walked in with some old cushions she found one day at a car boot sale and set them down on the corner by a window. Finally, a safe and cosy place to sleep and have fun in alone and also with Michelle.

We shall wait and see what happens regarding City College but for now, the next worry is trying to find a roof over my head.

Yours,
Morwenna.

 

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