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+.


43. 43.

Dear Myself,
I am the new me, new Morwenna but still the same old writer that you try to avoid in the classroom or corner of the street. After many weeks of looking myself in the mirror each morning and night and realising how plain and ugly I looked, I went on my own into town on the College day off and had a makeover. Haircut, nails done, make-up applied and treated myself with some newly earned wages to some clothes in the sales. But the biggest surprise of it all was not telling Michelle the secret plans of action. She was going to be out at some flower arranging event that I wasn't invited to so she thought I was going to be home writing. Ha, ha, ha, not the case.

Leia recommended to me over the phone a nice hairdressers close to a shopping street that do decent haircuts for a great price. Plus also being a student means a discount on the total cost. My hair was super long so I decided to have it wash, blow-dry it and then a cut and style finish. Love the fact the TVs were blaring in the background some of Ed Sheeran’s music as my scalp was gently massaged by the stylist. Jemma, her name was, studied hairdressing at the City College a few years back and now works full-time. She was super patient and always up for a nice chat during proceedings. I was jealous of her purple dip-dye hair though that she had done by another stylist recently. Thinking maybe having rainbow in my hair might be cute? Michelle most likely wouldn't that much. The kids at the nursery may like it more than the adults… Just a little crazy dream that's all.

An hour later, I was rocking (still am) a short bob with some lazy waves and a cute hair clip to brush off to the side my fringe so that the hairs wouldn't keep bashing into my eye whilst I'm walking or running. Feeling confident, I walked on towards the bus stops but instead of heading on back, I went into a really expensive department store and straight to one of the makeup counters that surrounded the ground floor. On the tall stool, I asked for advice on how to look older but not others witnessing the amount of heavy cosmetic materials plastered all over my face. First came the foundation, concealer, eye shadow, mascara and finally a little hint of blusher to complete the look of somewhat natural but not fresh faced either. Bemused shoppers walked past as the counter assistant kept picking up various brushes to apply the extra touches to my eyes and cheeks. Quite ticklish at times too but giggling loudly wasn't on the agenda. The temptation to post a new profile picture of me on Facebook before Michelle physically saw the new look Morwenna was tempting but she had to be the first to know and see before anyone else.

In the same department store, they sold a lot of clothes and most were reduced in price. Browsing around casually, I picked up some items of interest such as a cute t-shirt with a squirrel on the front and a dress with stars as patterns but as time ticked on, I started to feel the urge to return to the comfort of my bedroom and continue writing Maya’s story. Listening to myself, it wasn't long before I gathered up my purchases and headed back towards the bus. Texting to my girl on the way home that I had a massive surprise for her, don't let me in once I arrived back and keep your eyes closed. In reply, she texted back the confused emoji which only spurred more excitement into my adrenaline. She was going to love this!

Opening the front door, she stood in the hallway with her eyes closed and smiled nervously. Stepping closely towards her, I took both of my hands and placed them in hers. On counting to three, she opened and gasped in amazement. Now, the massive secret was out! Hugging quickly since her Dad was home, she whispered how mysterious and cheeky I looked. What a compliment. Now she needs to be brave and create a look for herself, I'm happy to help with the makeup side of things even though I learnt through watching YouTube tutorials more than anything. As she went to grab a snack, I charged upstairs, determined than ever to reach the twenty-five thousand word mark (hopefully). But even with just a few hours of non-stop writing, I felt my mind drifting back to the time when I was lonely and scared for my future. So more poetry came into existence.

Lost Girl
At a crossroads
In the madness we call life
Which way is wrong
Which way is right
Do I walk forward
Or step right back
Fly in the air
Or crawl down on the ground
Am I going to listen to others
Or follow my own way
Pushing against the strain
Lost girl
Lost girl
I see you there
Move along quickly
Pay the fare
To a new stop
Just have to get off
Win the jackpot
Miss it
Then you lose
All the hard work
Turned into juice

The title of my own poetry reminds me of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan, my Dad read me that book when I was in Primary School, the copy is either long gone or collecting dust in the attic. I have a plan of action once I reach my word targets of 500 words a batch, that's reward myself either with a chapter from a library book to read or cuddle Michelle for a minute. I haven't shared this Nanowrimo project with her yet but now she knows why I keep yawning in her face almost every night. The early starts could drive a writer mad unless using nighttime as their advantage. The house and streets all quiet, minimal distraction.

I'm hoping to write a ton more over the coming week as Nanowrimo draws to a close. I have all of tomorrow (Sunday) to write as well as early starts on the weekdays. Just don't want to fall asleep at the nursery and wake up with some paint or sticky glue on my face! Still overjoyed by how something little can result in a lot of success and pleasure.



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