under the blue moonlit place.

riding away.

I was cycling at a normal speed but to me I felt like it was soaring as fast as a bird. Finally, it was the weekend; a whole 2 days to  myself, just me and no one else. I love school and i love learning but something sure does feel good about get out of that shithole. 

Leaves and specs of twig were spitting into my face and knees but i didn't care i just wanted to get as far as i could, and to my place. I called it the blue moonlit place. It was my 2nd home practically but felt more like my 1st. I hate being at my house; as soon as you walk through the door a thick smell of alcohol floods your nostrils. My mum is an alcoholic and doesn't care about me; i feel like to her i'm a piece of scum on the floor waiting to be washed away. But i'm over exaggerating some people get it worse and i should love her no matter what, it's pretty hard though. The arguments, oh the arguments they are so horrible, you wouldn't think two people could spit such terrible things at one another. She doesn't even know what shes saying in her fogged up brain. I tend just to run away from the hopelessness i feel talking to her, it drains me sometimes. After the shouting she scares me and sometimes becomes violent. 

My dad is amazing but i never see him, he lives over seas in Canada and him and my mum were never married. My dad left her but she never told him she was pregnant. He loves me and has only met me once but we write letters all the time and emails. I wish i could be closer to him but he can't just come to England and take me away. I know i've only met him once but you know when you don't have to be near or see the person to be close to them. 

I live in an amazing place with fields and forests and wildlife; that's why i try so hard to love my life. I live in a beautiful world just not with people who love me. 

I finally reach my destination, the blue moonlit place. It was stunning in all of its glory as it always is. The shimmering glimmering lake had mini ripples dancing across the surface bumping each other. Tall trees stood high in all their pride as they created it to snow specs of fern sleepily floated down, resting among the cool ice coloured water. They surrounded me like a force field of protection from anything evil to enter my world. 

I rested my bike on the wooden rotting away pier and swung my bag on the floor and sat, swaying my legs on the edge of the pier. I pulled out my sketch book, pencils and book called 'Eleanor & Park'. Thank god for school libraries my teacher recommended it because she knows how much i love stories about misfits. My sketch book is my favourite thing ever, it has been with me everywhere, knows all my secrets and had to put up with my endless crying and anger. Drawing is a way to escape and to be free, i can get whatever emotion that's inside of me out and express it on paper.  If anyone saw that sketchbook i would die, there are some things in there that no one can see and secrets i can't even understand. 

I got my pencil and started drawing a girl i had seen in school today, she was sitting on a bench listening to music and reading a magazine labelled 'Popteen'. She was Asian and she loved this one; it was all about fashion they wear in Japan. She has lovely rich hair that waved down to her belly. Really nice eyebrows and perfect straight teeth when a smile peeks through.

I began to draw and listen to the birds whistling around me. 

🖤🖤🖤