Time to write a book?

I am an immovable object. I am the definition of unflappable. There is not one thing on this surprise filled planet that could phase me. As I mentioned in my previous post- I'm a Support Worker by trade. Had it not been for the unexpected twist of fate that led me to my current occupation, I would have lived my life blissfully unaware of the rock-like nature of my stomach. I was like the rest of you once- sickened by the sound of someone chewing with their mouth full, horrified by the thought of walking in on someone naked. perturbed by a lump of human poo on a rug. Yet here I am, sitting here telling you, my faithful Bloggees, that these things are now an everyday occurrence in my cringe, nay vomit(!) inducing days.

Having said that, the idea of writing a book has always been daunting to me. With my background (very brief though it was) in teaching- children's literature has always been of interest to me. I am also a fan of young adult fiction, particularly series such as The Alex Rider books by Anthony Horowitz and The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.

So Bloggees, here is the first chapter of the book I intend to write. So please give it a read and let me know what you think.

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Jamie stopped struggling. He closed his eyes tightly and let his legs hang loosely beneath him. 

‘Drop the boy Dan, he will be dead within the week anyway.’ Dan loosened his grip and let Jamie slide down the wall into a heap on the floor. ‘We’ve got better things to do than waste our time bullying this kid.’ He nodded, took a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it with a match. Jamie spluttered weakly, raising his eyes up to look into the eyes of the man that nearly killed him. He was young- 20 perhaps- with unkempt black hair under a red snap back cap. His body looked battered, covered in blood that Jamie concludes was not all his. His eyes were sunken and grey, aged by the horrors that he had witnessed in his relatively short life. Dan looked to the floor, shook his head then looked behind him to see his brother walking away. 

‘You should know better than to mess with people bigger than you kid, you better wish you don’t see us again. I can’t guarantee I will drop you next time.’ he warned, as he turned to catch up with his brother who was already disappearing behind a sea of static cars. 

Breathing was difficult, each single intake of air felt like he was being punched in the chest. Jamie was flat on his back looking at the sky. For a single moment, he felt calm. Even in a world ripped apart by violence and famine, the sky was there- unchanged and unaffected. He focused on his breathing, slowly filling his lungs with the clean, crisp morning air. Using the wall behind him for support, Jamie got to his knees. He slowly patted his body down. His legs and arms are fine, a little weak but intact. Gasping for air, and steadying himself on the wall he slowly stood up. He lifted his T-Shirt to assess the damage. His stomach and chest resembled a colour palate, with 20 shades of purple, blue and green. He let his T-shirt drop back down, catching a glimpse of his favourite band’s logo. He wondered if they made it. Everything went downhill pretty quickly in England, was it just as bad in America? Japan? The Middle East? There was no way to tell. Jamie smiled to himself. What was the point in worrying? There was only one person that mattered now and that was Sophie.  

Jamie nearly collapsed in horror. They’ve killed her. Why wouldn’t they? She was an easy target. A five and a half year old girl was never going to put up a fight like he did. Scanning the area, he looked around for any sign of his little sister. She was small for her age, long blonde hair and gaps in her teeth. Her naïve positivity was the only thing that had kept Jamie from giving up at the beginning. Sophie was his reason to live and now he had managed to lose her. 

‘Sophie! Can you hear me Toothy? They’ve gone- it’s just me.’ Panicked, Jamie looked around him. The street was deserted. The eerie silence filled his ears as he frantically searched the area. He repeatedly shouted her name, fighting back the tears as he begun to face reality. Life since the troubles had been hard. Money had gone from being the most important commodity in the world to being used as toilet paper in a matter of months. The richest people were the first to die.  They realised too late that their money could do nothing to convince people to part with food or water that was going to keep their own family alive. 

Jamie sat on the floor, leaning his back on an abandoned car. The pain from his stomach was unbearable now. His breaths became shorter and panicked. Calm down Jamie, you need to think! Find her! She needs you! His father’s voice echoed around his head. A tear fell down his cheek. How could this have happened? He promised his father he would keep Sophie safe, he couldn’t give up now. Jamie got to his feet, staggered a few steps then fell to the floor.  

 _______

‘Eat this Jay!’  

He recognised her voice first and then the familiar feeling of being rudely awakened by his little sister poking and prodding his cheeks. 

‘Jay! You need to wake up...’ 

It was a dream surely. It was the only way he ever got to see his friends, his family. The bliss of spending time with his loved ones for hours on end only to wake up to the nightmare that had become his reality.  

‘Please Jamie!’ The poking and prodding stopped. It was replaced by a quiet whimper- the same whimper he had heard all too often lately. The same whimper he heard when they realised they were alone- with nobody left to keep them safe. His time was up, Jamie had to face reality. He slowly opened his eyes. 

The sky was darker now, the sun drooping low in the sky.  He needed to move. Jamie sat up and shuffled his body back towards the car he was leaning on before he tried to get up. Letting his head lean back against the car, he took a few moments to get his thoughts together. He had lost consciousness- that much was clear. Maybe he had passed out from the pain. Maybe it was the hunger- he hadn’t eaten for at least 24 hours. He couldn’t be sure of anything, except for the fact that he was alone.  

It was a dream. Sophie was gone. 

A shiver travelled through Jamie’s entire body. The cold was getting to him now, his clothes offering very little resistance against the cold evening air. His stomach felt tight, the lack of food and physical trauma resulting in his muscles going into a spasm. Jamie got to his feet and brushed off his clothes. He felt something in his pocket. Confused, he took it out and stared at it for what felt like an eternity. 

A Kit Kat. She was alive. 

The incredibly awkward, depressingly necessary 'All About Me' post.

To my fellow Bloggers (or Bloggees, for those who are constantly blogged on without fair warning or apology),

I have finally done it! A small, cozy corner of the internet where I can share my innermost thoughts and experiences with any human desperately bored enough to visit. Of course, having recently been welcomed into the 'mid twenties' bracket less than a week ago- my life experience could be considered brief and for the most part- underwhelming. However I come to you, my dear Bloggees (starting to like that term now... I'm working on the assumption that you are probably being forced into reading this by either myself of one of my fans...too early for fans? Possibly.) in the vain hope that you may be interested, nay entranced by(!), my rambles. 

'Of what form will these rambles take!?' I hear you scream inwardly. Well, the truth is I don't know. I am not much of a planner. I'm an aimless doer. This is adequately demonstrated by my academic endeavours. 

It all began after finishing school. Simply put, I didn't know what to do..so I picked the widest spectrum of A-levels my mediocre college would allow (Law, Business studies, English and Accounting in case you were dying to know.) hoping that one of those things would at least spark some sort of interest. Alas no, my already thin on the ground interest in those things dwindled if anything. 

Upon finishing college I found myself between a rock and a hard place. Rock being a job and a hard place being University. After a game of rock, paper, scissors- a hard place won (irony not lost) and I decided to at least apply to university. The unfortunate thing was that, due to my complete phobia of committing to anything, I had a full day to complete my UCAS form, write a personal statement and decide which course to commit to for the next 3-4 years of my life. So I chose one Uni and opted for a Primary Teaching degree. Now, I knew that by listing only one Uni my chances of actually being accepted onto a course were minimal- in fact I was sort of counting on it. But as fate would have it,  I was called to interview and they over-looked my less than decent A-levels and gave me an unconditional offer based on the 'blaggy' nature of my interview. 

Two years later I realise that teaching is not for me- I don't like children, I certainly don't like parents and I have a special pocket of pent up hatred for the national curriculum. But ever the skrimper (refusing to flush two years worth of student fees and printer ink down the toilet), I finished my degree. Posing the question... What does a teacher do when they don't want to be a teacher? My part time bar job, which had previously been subsidised by Student grants (yay) and loans (boo), simply would not cut it forever.

So this is where I find myself. Nearly 2 years after finishing my degree,  I am a Support Worker for a charity (yes I do get paid for working for a charity...). I love it-  it is fun, challenging and rewarding (not financially, but money isn't everything! Right?). Most days,  I work at a supported living service just outside London that is home to six autistic young adults. I confess early on that this blog will probably end up being a platform from which I can tell my work stories in an attempt to gain laughs, empathy or in most cases- both. 

So there it is- I'm a 24 year old failed teacher/successful support worker/decision dodger/laugh lapper. 

Why say something in one sentence when I could say it in an essay-like prose? 

Your faithful time waster-

Ash xo