Journey through the abyss of the inevitable

Chapter 1

The sun rose on the east this morning. As it usually does. The wind blew heavily as autumn was just around the corner. With the leaves now departing from the trees and singing in the wind ever so gracefully. Brushing against my warm face, almost as if it was tickling me. My hair being caressed by the warm winds made me feel already at ease. Natures noise was like a melody for me. So loud, yet ever so graceful. I looked up. It wasn't what most people called a beautiful day, because most people prefer blue skies and sunshine but to me it was just perfect. Grey clouds but still bright, heavy winds that was just the right temperature and just the mere look of the now autumn. It was comforting.

I hated summer, with a passion. Being overheated constantly, broken air-cons, an overcrowded city, sticky hands from cheap ice lollies melting too quickly, too much flesh shown from other people and yourself. It was awful. There was no peace that came with it because everyone was out and everyone was trying to have a good time in this so called 'awesome weather'. But was anyone having a good time? It was an overwhelming feeling, summer in London was. You had far too many people from all around the globe in the summer, the eastern europeans/ asians always on school trips, you had the families that try to get cheap deals for cheap thrills, the so-called 'lads' that would cheat on their girlfriends by going to all the 'cool' 'indie' events happening in London and shagging a girl called Lindsey, and his name would most likely be Declan or Tom. You'd then get two types of teens. The indie Tumblr ones who constantly wear a Starbucks or the American Horror Story 'Normal people scare me' shirt, in a crop top form, with jeans and converse. Or you'd get another breed called chavs who clearly don't feel the heat or who have a 'devastating' effect to sun damage and think it's healthy to wear a pink/white tracksuit. The worst part about London, in the west end of course, was that it was just over populated, all day, 7 days a week. I just wanted that time alone you know? To be in a city where great things still happen but it's less populated.

You're maybe thinking 'well, why don't you relocate somewhere else?' the answer to that is I've built my career here. It was my dream, or so I think, for so many years until recently it came true. I now have my own magazine which is not just about fashion and the latest trends or about who slept with who in the celebrity world. It was about giving people who were starting up a chance to be recognised for their work, it can be Graphic Designers, Musicians, recent graduates work, even people that have helped out in the world with projects and schemes.

I had always been a big admirer of artists and art work. I had never understood how people were able to create these magical things. How ones mind can create such intricate pieces of work. How they can make you feel a certain way. How they can open your eyes to another universe. How...even they can make you forget about the world you live in for just that moment, like stories, only these ones are painted and are still speaking those thousand words. I always wanted to find out how they do it or are you given this sort of mind at birth or whether you can inhabit it. I would love to have a mind like that. The world could be my canvas and I could paint a hundred rainbows in the sky.

But unfortunately, I was born me.

A short, stubby, pale female. Who's misfortunes could be compared to how much money Justin Bieber owned in the bank. I mean, my life isn't a complete misery, but there is a lot I would change, if I had the time. I mean:

I live in Notting Hill, which is a pretty decent area

I drive a matte black Mercedes G class

I have a boyfriend, who is pretty hot and don't know how I got, he's also in London's famous band The Lost Kent Boys

Like you'd think 'where's the misfortunes there?' but I never feel 100% complete or content with anything. Like you have everything but..nothing.

My phone began to buzz in my pocket, the familiar ringtone hit my eardrums. I reached in my pocket to retrieve my phone and answered it after the third ring.