What they really are

What they really are-Let's pretend

I'd always loved the countryside for some reason. And the only reason I could think of was that it had so much to do but it didn't look like it. It's the same with people, they look so simple, but once you dig down to their core, you find their secrets, things that they don't want to tell anyone. Secret keepers, that's what they really are. And I mean I understand the concept of privacy but not to the point where it hurts other people.

That's people though and this is the countryside I need to learn to enjoy this trip next month. I want to be prepared. I'm off to London and it's my first big trip away with very few people. Me and Maisy are going and it's going to be amazing. My mum is so lovely, a lovely taxi too. She dropped me off at the station as I waved goodbye and stumbled up the wooden steps, through the big glass doors and headed towards the front desk. I was confronted by a funny-looking lady with jet black hair draped over her face and I let out a little snigger. She directed me to the next desk where I unwillingly gave her my details and received a small ticket with the words 'Sam Mitchell' printed on the front with the date of my departure on it. I said thank you and shoved it into my back pocket as I walked off.

I looked to my left and backed up my stance to fix my point of vision on the front of the station. It wasn't modern, it wasn't anything special. But I found it fascinating, the curves of the wooden planks on the outside, creating a rounded figure of the building. It was beautiful.

I grabbed my bag and swung it round my shoulder, only to find it twisting around my neck. As I was untangling it, an old man came up behind me and purposely knocked my arm to get my attention. And at first I just thought he was some weirdo, until I looked up and saw the clouds draw closer, covering the sun and sending a shiver down my back as it got cooler. It was sparse, but they soon dispersed into smaller, fluffy clouds. I grabbed my phone and rang up my mum, scrambling through the crowd.

She soon arrived and picked me up. I got out the car and she stayed in there, hanging on to her phone call whilst I skipped up the front path towards the front door. Someone was waiting there for me, it was Maisy. So, with our differences been put behind us, I confidently walked towards her and said hi. "Don't try and act all innocent and nice" she said in a smarmy tone. I looked up at her with a puzzled expression on my face. I just thought she was trying to set me up to get a reaction. Which, in a way she did but probably not the one she was hoping for.

"I can't believe you're acting like nothing ever happened." By this point I was very confused. "What do you mean? I thought we sorted it out on the phone call?" "What phone call?" She was clearly not in the mood to debate and that's when I knew tgat something was up. Emily! That's who it was, pretending to be Maisy over the phone. She can't do this, because now I have to deal with Maisy and Max. Before I had the chance to explain myself, she strolled off, wrapping her arms together, making them crossed and stormed down the road.

I want to pretend that I'm something that I'm not. Pretend to be someone else and not have to worry about my consequences. I want to escape from reality. But that's the thing, I want. I don't need to be someone else, I want to be. And anyone with a past will know that if you want something, you don't get it. Unless, in motivational speak, you want something so badly that you never give up. But for procrastinators like me, that's virtually impossible.