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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4. 4.

Dear Myself,
So hard, so draining, so emotional. My fears about my mock exam results were finally realised once I opened the envelope and saw the small list of letters for each of the exams I had sat a few weeks back. To get into local universities for Psychology, you need at least an A followed by Bs in the other two subjects you are doing. I was nowhere close. Psychology a C, English Literature and Business Studies a D leaving me with only one decision to make: Dropping out of sixth form. Diary, we both knew that this was going to happen, honestly, I'm just not good enough for University. My anxiety gets the better of me and because I would rather work with early years children and not a psychologist, the whole experience being a sixth form student has literally gone down the tubes.

It was really scary walking back home and holding the list of results to show my parents, Mum who still hasn't recovered well from the city shopping trip episode was sat up in bed with a glass of water. Even before I handed the results over, she could see in my face that the news wasn't good. But instead of throwing a fit about it, she weakly held out her arm, beckoning me onto the bed next to her. Her blonde hair, tied back in a messy bun bounced a little as she moved over to hold me. Trying not to cry, I told her I was sorry for getting the worst grades possible. Mum said that mocks were just mocks and not the real thing, the real thing could turn out to be a thousand times better. But she added that when I was on the phone to one of my Aunties the other day, I mentioned about my goal to work with children and how I felt sixth form wasn't opening up the right opportunities for that. Mum smiled and said if I wanted to go to the City College in town to look at childcare courses, I was more than welcome to. That sentence in itself was such a huge relief and comfort to hear.

I've heard a lot of mixed reviews on the City College, it's different from the sixth form I currently attend regarding the dress code and the courses they offer. It seems a lot more relaxed down there plus you can leave the premises during lunch break and go into shops which is a bit of a bonus. But what worries me is that because I've attempted A-Levels, does doing something else after getting some naff grades look really bad on your CV? A few of my old classmates went to the City College either to do a full-time course or something called an Apprenticeship. But that was honestly because they knew early in advance that staying at sixth form wouldn't be for them and what happened to me was halfway during my first year, I knew it wasn't for me. But because in my mind, I can't be a letdown on my family, I stuck it out with the support of my tutor.

Life can be so blooming difficult! I will tell you about one exciting thing that did happen this week with me, Mum, Dad and Damien and that was going to the six month scan and seeing my soon to be born brother or sister having fun and relaxing in the womb. Mum lay back on this bed whilst the nurse held this scanner over her to show what was inside. A beautiful little baby, happily sat back and posing for all of us. Dad looked over at me, Damien and finally Mum before passionately kissing her and saying how much she means to all of us. The shock from my mock exam results had evaporated away and feeling close to my family made me realise how much I appreciate all of them, even Damien, knowing that I would be devastated if anything happened to them.

When we came home, the rest of the evening was spent looking at all of our baby photos from back in the day. Me being born on time in the middle of a hot July, Damien a winter baby, born just before Christmas meaning he gets half of his presents on his birthday and the other half at Christmas and both our parents baby photos. Seeing the funny faces and the now unfamiliar surroundings raised a few giggles as Mum added copies of the scan photos to the family album which reflects on all of our life memories together as a family. The album itself is huge, with lots of little pockets to store small things in such as train tickets or seashells.

Regarding the City College again, after searching up online using my iPad (another Christmas present), I then discovered that the next open event to go down to the campus and speak to staff and students about courses and funding is next week on a day when I finish sixth form early. Both Mum and Dad will be going with me but Damien will be at an after-school sports club with his friends, trying to beat each other at field events no doubt.  I do know for sure that some students will recognise me from school and everything. One of the so-called claims to fame is my long, curly black hair which I'm pretty confident that you can take it and knit a woolly jumper with the hair. My appearance hasn't really changed much from GCSE days, I do have acne that cover my cheeks and shoulders but that's about it. 

Diary, you don't mind if I really open up about myself right? Well, that's kind of basically what a diary is for. Lectures are things I try to avoid whenever I talk to people or try to write things down. See, answering my own question! As always, I will have to let you know how the open event goes, whether the courses available suit my preferences or not. One thing is for sure, since I'm turning eighteen this year, I will have a lot more responsibility on my shoulders. Making the wrong move again could be harsh consequences on myself and how I move forward. As you may have noticed, being harsh on myself hurts me. See you!

Yours,
Morwenna.

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