Blog Entry 10.

Hey there.

I've been away for a long while... Got do much to do!

Though I've been a lot happier lately! And I'm getting a lot of reading done... It's hard to keep up with everything though.

I'm trying harder now. Everything is twice as hard, but I'm determined to be better than this family.

So all I need to do is study, do homework and ACE my exams. It's a struggle.

We'll see what happens next.

Blog Entry 9.

It's not often that I share things here anymore, I'm always too blurgh. Since Tuesday, I've been doing work experience at a nursery in my town. I got to work and play with all of the children, run errands, complete task and had such a great time. It's probably been one of the best few days in a long time. Yesterday was my last day. The picture in this post is of a card that the children made me and it is absolutely amazing. I almost cried because of how much it meant to me. I feel so privileged to know them, even for such a short time. This entry is to show my appreciation.

Blog Entry 8.

I had to write a personal essay for English. Just going to post it here...

                           Personal Essay
       I pray before we leave for the funeral. The chapel is freezing when we arrive. Everything is quiet, silent, like the dead. My family avoid eye contact as they grieve. Those who do look at me give me a meek smile. Their eyes glisten as they try to hold back the tears. Stay strong, I tell myself. Don’t cry. I lower my head as we walk down the aisle. Every second pains me, makes me wish none of it had ever happened. I mentally sieve through the good times with the one I lost. I bump into my sister, knocking my train of thought. My mother urges me into the pew we’ve stopped at. The service begins.
       The priest or maybe minister- I’m not too sure. I have no interest in religion anymore- begins the service with the usual spiel; “We have been gathered here today...blah...blah...blah...celebrate the life of Vincent Goundry...may he rest in peace...will be missed greatly.” I blank him out because, how would he know? He never knew Vincent. All he cares about is the money he’s getting for this whole palaver.
       If it had been any other occasion, I wouldn’t have thought that. But I need someone to blame! I’m angry, angry with my uncle for dying, angry with myself for not being there, angry with God for letting it happen! This shouldn’t be like it is. My uncle should still be here. Why? Why was he taken from us? How will we cope? My poor Gran will be alone now. Furious thoughts swim through my head, though no one would even suspect. My face is so vacant and expressionless. I’m snapped back into the chapel when I hear the organ playing, when I see the coffin.
        I can’t stop myself; tears flood my face in a matter of seconds. My mother passes me a tissue then puts her arm around me. I glance over at my father, only to find that he isn’t there anymore. He must have slipped away whilst I was lost in thought because at another peak at my uncle’s coffin, I see him among the men in our family carrying it. Their walk down the centre is slow and painful, but it eventually comes to an end as my father, uncles and cousins rest the dreadful coffin on a table at the front of the chapel.
      The priest, or whatever he’s called, continues to babble on about good times and religious fables. People mourn, hymns are sung. A few people stand up, some of my cousins. My mother pushes me up too. I almost forgot I’d volunteered to read out. I reluctantly walk up to a massive stand on the far left of the room. I hold a sheet of paper with the script of sorts that I’ll be reading from in one hand, my used tissue in the other. My cousins walk behind the stand to ready the bread and wine for when I’m finished. When at the stand, I fix my skirt, straighten my back, take a deep breath and begin to speak.
      I don’t remember a thing I’ve said as soon as I finish. No one claps for me, though I wouldn’t expect them to. It’s a funeral and it wouldn’t be right. As I walk my way back to my seat, family members meet my eyes and smile at me. Some even say a quick word like- “He would be proud.” Or “You read beautifully.” But I think they’ll say more at the Wake. I find my seat again and lower my head solemnly.
       The two of my cousins who had stood up with me now stand at the centre of the ‘stage’ holding bread and wine. Anyone who wishes to gets up and forms a line to drink the wine and eat the bread. The first in the line are complete strangers. It takes me a moment to realise that they are from the choir, who have been sitting at the back rows of pews to show respect. I’ve had enough and shut down.
     What seems like hours later, everyone seems to rise from the pews and the organ begins to play again. Oh great, another hymn. I don’t sing. Not because I don’t know the words -we have them in front of us- but because I don’t like them and I know Vincent wouldn’t have either. The man holding the service says a few final words before everyone begins to leave. A lot of my family members walk toward the front and I follow, curious as to what’s happening. One by one, they pick up a candle and light it. I vaguely remember the man holding the service saying something about lighting them at every mass for the next few years, but I wasn’t listening much. I do the same as the rest of my family and follow the long, slow trail to the exit of the chapel, readying myself for the painful wake to come.
       I don’t pray anymore. Not since my Uncle Vincent’s funeral. Chapels scare me to death and the cold walls make me shiver. I never look people in the eye at funerals for fear of seeing the pain their faces hide. I don’t even bother to hide the tears or hide my fragility. Wishing for things to have turned out different doesn’t work, I’ve learned. And all I can ever think of are bad memories and recollections of things gone wrong. I always make sure I don’t touch anyone or anything and stay out of everyone’s way to stand at the very back. Before I know it, the service finishes.

Blog Entry 7.

This rose is beautiful.

It reminds me of THG.

I love it.

Blog Entry 6.

Ever just wish you were a vampire?

Age-less, immortal, graceful.

The strength you would possess. The skills you would develop.

Learning how to fight. How to attack. How to kill.

The irony taste of blood in your mouth.

The pale skin, the beauty,

Inhuman speed.

An eternity to live.

Think of the money you would gain over the years. Enough to buy anything you could ever want.

To truly live. With no limits.

I wish I was a vampire.

Blog Entry 5.

Know what I like about this blog? No one reads it. I can get all of my feelings out with no one giving me abuse about being an attention whore. Which I do not believe I am.

If you are unfortunate enough to find this blog, I apologise. I just need to get all of this out. And this is the easiest way. So, I would recommend not reading any more posts.

I'll go now...

Blog Entry 4.

Hey there stranger. I've been away for a while, I know. I wouldn't have been if I had a laptop but apparently It's not important enough to get fixed. Oh well...

My cousin has let me borrow hers until tomorrow night. It's weird typing after such a long time on a phone.

I've been busy these past few weeks. In February, I went to see All Time Low. They are AMAZING live and incredibly funny. Life's been okay.

But my school are pissing me off. How do they expect us to do well with a new cirriculum and exams when half of them have NO CLUE as to what they're doing. It's stupid and idiotic. They can't really think that everything will be fine, can they? All this talk of preperation for exams and such when they aren't even prepared themselves! Hypocrites...

Other than that though... I haven't felt as bad as usual sometimes, but other times, I feel ten times worse. I want to write stories and fics so badly. But i feel that everything I write is exactly the same as the thing before, same style and everything. It's boring me and making me feel like shit. And I keep fantasising. My whole life revolves around books and stories, vampires and werewolves, sorcerers and mages. Everywhere I look, all I can think is; "That would be an awesome name for..." or "I am **Insert fictional character** from **Insert fictional book**" I can't help it. It just happens.

And don't even get me started on my ever-deteriorating social life. I haven't seen one of my best friends out of school for months. The rest of us call him 'Harry the Hibernating Hermit Hamster' and the funny thing is, he isn't even called Harry. What pisses me off further is that he is also the guy I like. He doesn't even text me anymore and it frustrates me just as much as it hurts me. Why he's being such a dick about everything, I don't know. One of my other best friends goes out drinking ALL THE TIME. He's 14 for gods sake! It happens nearly every week. Sure I get drunk sometimes, but every week? That's alcoholism. I've drank a few times to escape this shitty world, and I sure as hell don't get caught. Unlike him... He's nearly been lifted, he's been banned from the centre and he's been grounded. My final best friend has been a bit of a bitch lately. So have I, but seriously, she fucking ignores me. And expects me to come out when she wants me to. I have stuff to do and refuse her sometimes then she complains. Well I do apologise, I should just drop my homework, my writing, my meal, just because you want me to. No, I don't think so.

This is what I mean't in the last post! I'm bitching about my best friends ffs! Why am I such a bitch?

Blog Entry 3.

My stomach hurts. Do you ever get that? When you go all red. Your palms sweat. You feel so warm. And your stomach is just KILLING you inside. I get it all the time. It started last year. At first it was just once or twice a week but now I get it every day.

My mum says it's nerves. She tells me how she and her sister used to get it. My aunty STILL gets like that apparently. I guess you just have to learn to live with it... When I sit near the front in class is usuakkt when it's at it's worst. What if people laugh at me? Or stare? What if they all make fun of me? I feel so insecure!

Why?! Why does this happen to me?!

To be honest, I don't think it would ever have been this bad if I hadn't been bullied in 1st year. I don't think I would even be the person I am today. I hate what I am. I'm always such a bitch to everyone. It's probably why I only have one friend left. It sucks. I know if I tried then I could make friends. But I just don't see the point anymore. I don't want fake friends who only need me when there's no one else. I don't want friends who go out and bitch about me behind my back...

So there's no point in trying. And I certainly don't want to take someone away from their friends and get in between friends. I've done that before by accident. Never again. It's too much.

I've also lost my faith in God. I pray when I can. I thank God for things. I ask for help. For advice. But I am never answered. I don't see the point in believing in something that isn't real.

I've made up my own religion. No gods. Yet... Just rules, beliefs, etc. Reincarnation for example is one of the main beliefs. I have really just taken different aspects, properties and ideas that I like from religions. It makes me feel independent. There is also no praying included whatsoever. Praying doesn't appeal to me.

I still don't have a name for it all yet. I shall brood over it later...

Got to get ready for Drama and get some dinner now so goodnight. :)

Blog Entry 2.

I hate school. It's so pointless. And it's even worse when your best friend is in Australia and your standing in the courtyard waiting for the bell to ring. It's cold, but I don't mind. I like the cold. I would rather be too cold than too hot. I get so agitated when it's warm and end up in a foul mood.

Maths is next period. I hate maths. I hate almost everything! But maths is by far the worst... Being in a credit class probably adds to the torture. All the things I need to know. Everything that I'm expected to know. I'm off a lot so that I can go to the hospital. It's not my fault I have medical issues and can't be in school to learn... I like going to the hospital though. It's interesting. All the different people working together to make it all happen. It amazes me. Though I dislike when I have to get examined. It makes me feel uncomfortable and I end up sweating like mad. Probably to do with my lack of confidence...

Urgh... That's the bell. Bye.

Blog Entry 1.

Hi. I'm Cassidy. Just your average Scottish 14 year old girl. Well, maybe not average... I like witchcraft and magic. And I read. A lot. I mostly read fantasy books. Everything else is just so boring!

Another thing about me- I have one, proper friend. Her name is Astrid. Okay, her name isn't actually Astrid, but it would suit her. Same with mine, I'm not actually called Cassidy, but I think the name is really nice. As I was saying, Astrid is my best friend and I've known her since primary school. We met when I tripped and fell and she helped my up again in primary 1. We've been inseparable since.

I don't tell Astrid about my witchcraft. It's special. I haven't practised in ages though. Too busy reading. And cleaning. And being bored. I think the reason for this is because Astrid is in Australia visiting family...

I do have two other friends, but they don't ever ask me to go out. So I get left in a house with seven other people and two cats. It sucks being me. :/