Do you know that feeling where the sun hits your skin and you feel like the light is hugging you? I miss that feeling. I miss Australia. I miss my friends. I miss my family. But mostly, I miss the sun.
My dad married a British woman called Claire. She's really great, not like in the movies where the dad marries the awful woman that becomes the step mum. She tries really hard to get on people's good side and I think that she could be good for him. My mum is still down under and I miss her dearly. She calls almost every week and catches up with me. I came to England with my dad to try new things, I wasn't always the risk taker and I felt I should be. Life is too short, as my mum says.
And now as I look outside my window I picture my old backyard in Australia. With my adolescent swing set and slide and my dog, Willis running around causing trouble. I'm not saying that I'm sad here in England, I love England, but it would be nice to go back to Australia. England is definitely a good experience for me, to take a chance for once and get out there. I've always cower away from things. Don't get me wrong, I love people I'm not a shy person. I just like to know I'm safe and that's why I don't grasp on to opportunities when I get the chance. I have a journal I write all my thoughts in. I want to be a writer, but I don't know what to do. Even if I wrote a book, I wouldn't know what to do with it. People tell me to just send it to a publishing place but they don't read it. My friend is an incredible writer and use to write just as much as I do now and she sent her book to be published but it just got sent back, it wasn't looked at, no notes on it, no marks, no nothing. I don't know how to get noticed. Nagging won't do anything, I've seen it happen. I sit outside the Halls Publishing and watch all the writers get rejected. Just get told to leave or they will call the police. They want people that look like they are good writer, that show personality, a sense of fun and someone who can show their free soul when you meet them. I don't know how to do that. I'm actually really passive, it made it hard to make friends but it brought the good friends.
I get up and walk downstairs to where my dad and Claire are. They are sitting on the couch and watching Netflix. I walk past them and grab my keys off the hook.
"Dad, I'm going to Gabby's. I'll be back in a few hours." I say.
"Just yesterday you were in diapers, where does the time go?" He jokes. I laugh and Claire smiles while looking up at him. They must really love each other.
"Bye dad, bye Claire." I shake my head. She waves and he laughs. I head to my car and start it up. I couldn't really tell them where I was really going or they'd think I've lost it, maybe I have. I've used the "I'm going to Gabby's" excuse a lot. I'm not lying because I go to her house after. Gabby is my best friend and she's the only one that knows what I do. She tells me I should just go after it but I just... can't.
When I arrive I sit in the same place I do every week, on the bench across the street from Halls Publishing at a café. I have my same breakfast and sit there trying to write. I can't. I always think that if I sit outside of Halls Publishing it'll remind me of how much I want it. But instead, I watch people get their dreams crushed over, and over again. I've done this with other publishing houses but it's all the same.
I stare at the red brick building with my notepad on my lap trying to think of a good idea. I can't remember the last time I had a good idea. Maybe it's the weather. But then again that's my same excuse for everything. I need a new approach. I can't think of anything so I just stare at the place and imagine getting a book published and having people like it so much that it inspires them or maybe changes their life or something. This day turns out the same as the others, full of day dreaming and pathetic waste of time. I sit up straight.
I take out my pen and write on the top of my notepad page "Ideas".
"Ideas huh? For what?"The person beside me says. I turn my head and get overwhelmed. Of course, how cliché. It's the drunk guy from Pizza Hut last night. He presses for an answer from me.
"Oh, hello." I say nicely.
"You remember me?"He looks surprised. He shoots closer to me on the bench. I scoot away.
"I wasn't the one drunk, shouldn't I be asking you that question?" I bluntly say. He laughs.
"You've got a sense of humour."He smiles in admiration. He peeks over at my notepad pad and looks at me.
"So, what are you writing ideas for?"He asks. I guess I could tell him, wouldn't do any harm. I'm about to speak but he reaches out and grabs my notepad and starts flipping through it. An alarm goes off in my head and I slap his hands and take it back. I hate when people touch my notepad it's really personal it has all of my thoughts and story ideas how rude of him.
"What?"He whines.
"Were you dropped on your head?Don't touch my notepad. Don't ever touch it. I don't touch your things now do I? How would you like it I took your phone out of your pocket and looked through that?"I scold him. Gosh, does he have manners?
"I wouldn't mind." He shrugs.
"Well I would, and I do." I say. He holds his hand up.
"Okay, okay, sorry I touched your notepad. I didn't know."He says apologetically. I look at him weirdly. I expected him to yell at me saying something like, "It's just a notebook" "You don't have to be such a bitch about it."
Now I realize what I just said"No, I'm sorry I freaked out it was gross."
"Gross?" He smirks. I smile and nod. "Are you going to tell me what you were writing?" he asks. Well, I was about to until he decides to snatch the book out of my hand. Still rude, but kinda over it.
"I'm trying to write a book, but I can't think of anything."
He smiles and shakes his head. "What?" I snap. What is it with him being so damn happy all the time?
"You can't write a book uninspired, that's not how it works." He says like it's obvious. I scoff, what would he know about writing. Probably more than you Sierra, you didn't even go to university what a shame, my subconscious sasses. I get up grabbing my purse and notepad, I think it's about time I leave to go to Gabby's she'll be expecting me.
"Where ya going I just got here, I thought maybe we could get some lunch later." He offers. Now that I think of it, that would be really nice. But Gabby is waiting and if I go to lunch with some guy she will never shut up about it, and tell everyone even people who don't even know me. Could you imagine! I shake my head. "I have things to do, but thanks for asking. Maybe another time yes?"
"Definitely." He says.
"Well goodbye then." I say. I start to walk off towards the parking lot. He could maybe be one of my friends here, he's nice to be around. I'd never tell him that.
"You know," He hollers behind me. I turn around to see him sat at the bench. I put my hand on my hip to show that I'm waiting for him to finish his sentence. He smiles a little "You were a lot different yesterday when I met you." My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "How so?" I call back. He smiles a little bit more. "A lot more laid back, more nice. You even gave me your number. Remember? Could you believe it! I can't!" Now he's just making fun of me. But I can't help but smile at him.
"What can I say?I'm not myself when I'm tired" I say and hear him laugh as I walk away. What a morning.
