Leaving

One of our cats, Tiger had claimed the trunk as his own and was sitting on it regally. His eyes were closed in contemplation, his fur turned from its normal black with the occasional white spots to rusty brown and cream as the late evening sunshine shone on it making it translucent. Being placed by a west facing window and this being summer on the island, this light would be there for many hours to come.

My leaving wasn't always a certainty, not being a stellar student at any point of my schooling, the last two years in particular had been nothing short of a herculean effort on my behalf. That I had actually managed to get good enough grades to go to college was quite the shock for some but I had been determined. The person least in my corner was our headmaster Mr Taverner.

I sat in the headmasters office along with my boyfriend, waiting to see if he would let us stay on at school. This interview was necessary for anyone who wished to enter 6th form and study for the higher level of exams. For my boyfriend who had 9 high passes it was a foregone conclusion he would be allowed to study but my 4, so so passes, made me look like a less likely candidate. These were the most important exams in our young lives and dictated all students' futures and mine looked terrible.

"So young lady, I see that you only got 4 out of the 8. I'm not sure there is much point in your returning to school." He stated this bluntly and with little emotion and certainly not with the warmth that he had just showered on my boyfriend, but then again my boyfriend was an excellent student and taking 9 exams when he only needed 8 showed this, that he had aced them all proved beyond doubt that he would do well. My eyes filled with tears at his damning assessment, but I was absolutely determined I was returning to school.

"I have spoken to Mr Booth, and he says that he is prepared to get me through, that I can take both levels of geology at the same time and that taking geography with that would be enough for me to get into the same college that he went to." Although I was visibly upset, I sounded unshakable in my conviction. This was my secret weapon, I actually had a teacher at the school who believed in me.

Mr Taverner was momentarily caught off guard and his grimly set mouth had slackened at my startling statement. He sort of coughed and my boyfriend shuffled in his seat awkwardly.

"You would need 3 A'levels as a bare minimum, you would have to take General Studies, as you don't have another subject" He glared at me. But I was prepared

"Mr Booth said that I should just focus on 2 A'levels, with the other O'levels. That this would give me the best chance of getting the grades I would need.."

"Well what about your maths and english that you failed?" he had me in the cross hairs this was something that I absolutely had to get if I was to get any job let alone go to college and he knew it

"Oh I'll retake them" I said this casually, I was digging my heels in and I was not leaving this office until he agreed to me staying on. My tears were drying on my face and despite Mr Tavener's obvious misgivings I was clearly not backing down. His eyes bored into mine.

"Well then on your head be it." Mr Taverner said emphatically. I would just have to prove him wrong.

The two years of school flew by, and soon the final exams had been sat and I needed to save for college. My friend's mum worked in a kettle making factory and we were able to get summer work there too. This was hard graft and seeing that people had worked here all their working lives was sobering. I found it mind numbingly boring and hard, my station was to test the heating elements that would be put into the kettle, making sure that they would get hot enough to boil water. Once heated these elements then had to be put in a crate and carried down to the last bench for quality control. It was hot work and I got many burns for my efforts but this was a numbers game and I had to make sure that I made the target daily. The days at the factory blurred and I kept my head down and tried not to say what I was thinking, that I would die if this is where I ended up. I was desperate to leave the island and get my education.

When my results came in some weeks later, I had managed to pass just enough to get me onto the course I wanted to do, not fantastic grades but good enough. Now I had to really scramble to buy the items needed for college. The course had provided a list of items, a small magnifier to identify different rocks in the field, a full set of water proofs, with wellingtons and hiking boots. The last item was the most expensive and I remembered at the time that this was quite the investment at 50pounds. The hiking boots were thoroughly industrial, with thick padding that sealed around my ankle. They were so heavy I could hardly lift my foot, let alone bend it !!!! they had absolutely no give in them whatsoever !

As I tried the boots on I also was offered a tin of dubbing

"Now these fellas have to be looked after," the sales guy in Newsoms outfitters told me.

This was a shop that was filled to the ceiling with coats of all sizes, bags, boots and the go to place for back to school gear, as well as items for the working man and camping gear. I had made the pilgrimage to this store every school holiday. This time it felt like I was an adventurer.

"You need to make sure that you seal this leather" I nodded as he looked on seriously as he passed the small tin of dubbing to me.

"So you rub it on, it has to be quite thick mind, then you leave that overnight and then the next day you have to rub it off. It will have set a bit so you have to put some welly in it" He looked at me appraising my slight frame.

He almost looked reticent at giving me this task. As I had tried to get the boots on, struggling to even pull the laces they were so stiff.

"You need to do this" he impressed clearly thinking that I might skip the task

"Cause they won't be waterproof, oh and you will need some hiking socks to go with them." He handed me a pair of thick itchy wool socks. All I could think about was the blisters that I would get from this situation.

I never did `wear the boots in' and in fact wore them only a handful of times. Turns out the essential list wasn't so essential after all. But of course I didn't know that then and these boots had come home to me that day along with all the other items and packed into my waiting trunk.

Being a student travelling from so far away, the college had allowed me two concessions, one that I would be able to arrive a few days earlier than the other students and secondly that I would have a room of my own. This latter concession was in my mind a total luxury and having shared a room for much of my growing up I relished this prospect. But all of this anticipation for the big adventure was tinged with overwhelming fear. I had never travelled alone and the thought of going off the island to a place I have never visited was massively overwhelming, just actually leaving full stop, a feeling of dread mixed with huge grief at leaving the place I had grown up in led to a lot of upset!

"I don't want to go!!!" I managed to say this through wracking sobs to my boyfriend perched on my bed in my childhood home

"I know it will be tough but we will see each other" he tried to console me but this was an impossible task, I was inconsolable.

I had to leave. This was `the' option for me and an expectation. I like my 3 sisters before me, would go away to study. Mum would have preferred university, it sounded a lot better than college.

"You have to have an education, it is so important" Mum would say and I would grumble inordinably.

"You don't want to end up in a bank!" was her retort whenever we had this conversation.

She was adamant. The conversation in the lead up to the exams I had failed was full of this pressure from school, from Mum. You simply had to have a plan. There was no floating about.

"We can't support you" Mum would state flatly.

"At 18 you have to be independent" that put another way was. You have to leave home and find your way. She didn't say she wouldn't have us brutally but there was no give

"WE can't have you here, we don't have the money for that!" It was this sort of an attitude along with her long held believe that my two eldest sisters were academic and well.....

"I hate taking exams Mum" I moaned as the mock exam results had come in. I was having to show her how badly I had done

"You're just not academic Miranda. You are clever in your own special way"

Those last few weeks at home I would cry myself to sleep. How would I do this? But there was no question I would do this, I simply had to.

The day had finally come for me to leave, my trunk had been picked up days earlier and had already arrived at my eventual destination. I had my green frame rucksack, balanced next to a chair in the porch ready to be loaded into the car. The rucksack was packed tightly with sweaters, a spare pair of jeans, and various t-shirts, along with a towel, soap bag and books. When on this rucksack was massive on my small body and came down to the backs of my legs as I had even used the lowest section that had a small bar that lifted down so you could put a bed roll on it. I had put a plastic bag filled with items that couldn't fit in the other section.

I had been practising all the previous week to get the pack on and off again, fretting about travelling with something that was too big and too heavy. I would have to manage this maneuver unaided. I needed a technique and I had found if you balanced the fully loaded pack on a seat and backed into the rucksack taking one strap onto your shoulder and then the other, quickly stand bracing your legs, I would stagger slightly under the weight of the pack as my hands deftly reached for the waist strap. Clicking this shut my hips then took the weight of the pack and I could just about manage to walk.

I also practiced taking the full pack off too. I would need to find a surface deep enough for the pack to balance on, a chair or bench would be ideal, although I had discovered that me and the pack together barely fit on a chair, it was enough to take the weight off. Once balanced I would be able to release the hip belt and slide the shoulder straps off too. Making sure that the rucksack didn't slide onto the floor as getting it up from this position was almost impossible!

As I practiced my mum looked on

"You look like a turtle!" she said making no effort to hide her obvious amusement at my efforts saying this as I staggered with the final stages of righting the pack on my back, and she wasn't being helpful as I became flustered.

"And you're just mean!"

I retorted hotly. What I really felt was ridiculed and vulnerable in my hour of greatest need. I had been crying for a whole week straight by this point and was tired and terrified. But I wasn't able to share this thought, I didn't want to crumple in front of her. I also had to prepare myself for the actual leaving! I roughly took off the pack and stomped up the cottage stairs to my bedroom and slammed the door, I collapsed onto my bed a teary mess. It felt beyond me that I would be able to do this. But the days had kept ticking down.

Dad parked the car and we all got out, my boyfriend along with my mum and dad, we had arrived at the ferry terminal. I stealed myself for the actual goodbye. Having seen my mum do this many times before with my 3 elder sisters I was prepared. Mums grasping hands found my limp arms as I stood at the back of the car as dad lifted the pack onto my back. This was the last help I would get with this unwieldy luggage and I was grateful for his solid presence and calm demeanor as he guided my arms through the straps, holding the pack long enough for me to clip the hip belt and me shifting the weight to the bearable position that would make walking possible. Mum on the other hand was dissolving loudly next to me and now grabbing me into an awkward hug as she hauled me into her bosom taking both me and the pack into her surprisingly vice-like hug. I could feel her chest heave with every sob she took and it was impossible not to follow suit. I was in danger of taking us both to the ground as the harder she hugged the more my balance faltered and I shrugged free.

Trying to stand tall, I took my dads hand and looked up into his kind eyes. There were no words, but just the gentle shake of my hand and the knowing look of immense and never ending love passed between us. If he had spoken I would have not been able to go but he knew and I knew I had to do this, words would make it harder. I turned to my boyfriend and smiled weakly.

"I'll be there soon," he said trying to reassure both me and him, he would be coming the following week to another city in England to start his studies. I nodded and tried hard to stop crying. We held hands as I made my way to where the foot passengers were heading, to the side of the boat by the gang plank. They hung back, hands let go of and I love you's hanging on our lips. I took a deep breath and walked up the inclined gang plank past a burly steampacket worker who was steadying it and offering me a guiding hand, as I blinked tears away trying to place my feet carefully.

As I stepped down onto the boat that was imperceptibly pitching up and down, the smell of diesel and greasy fried eggs and bacon assaulted me and my stomach lurched in reaction. I would have to find a seat outside, having found with past journeys that the boat didn't agree with me, the deck would be the best place for me to avoid the inevitable sea sickness. So I gingerly made my way up the metal staircase to the back of the boat and found a seat on the open deck. I slipped off the backpack next to me on the bench,I settled myself in and zipped up my coat to the chin, although it was a calm day from what I could see, the boat took 4 hours to get to England and being on the water that long you would always get frozen.

As the engines went up a gear, there was a flurry of activity as the ropes were thrown off and the boat gently eased away from the pier wall making the water eddy as it did so and I saw the huddle of Mum, Dad and my boyfriend waving enthusiastically as they spotted me at the back of the boat. The tears I had managed to hold in, now fell in streams down my face, although there were other people milling about, I didn't care and I sobbed freely as I waved back. They got smaller and smaller as the boat picked up speed and soon we were out of the harbour walls into the bay and my people became dots. I waved for as long as my arm could stand it and I couldn't make them out any longer and the hills of the island behind them flattened and were soon gone.

Now that the journey was under way I reached into the pack to find a book and I found the viscount biscuits that dad had slipped into the pack when I wasn't looking. Tears filled my eyes again, he knew these were a favorite and treats in our house were metered out with care, here in an act of generosity he had given me a whole packet of the green foiled chocolate and mint fondant biscuits that he knew I loved. I sobbed afresh thinking of my dad and how on earth would I cope without him, and our walks with the dog. He was my confidant and friend and he was always there for me and as these thoughts swirled about me a young man approached me wearing fatigues, he didn't look that much older than me. I had noticed soldiers on the boat when I had initially got on and I had momentarily panicked at this sight. It seemed really strange and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why there were so many soldiers there but the grief of leaving had soon put those thoughts out of my head as I had desperately waved and sobbed at Mum, Dad and my boyfriend dwindling on the pier.

But now that I was out at sea, there was one of the soldiers and he was walking towards me. What was he doing?

"Hey love, want this?" he said as he thrust a newspaper at me. I looked at him confused and probably cut a miserable site from all the crying.

"Oh right, no I'm fine" I said looking anything but and feeling embarrassed and not quite comprehending what was happening.

He walked away and I realised too late he was probably being kind and had seen my complete and utter collapse as the boat had left, it wouldn't have taken a genius to work out that the person crying so hard was leaving home for the first time! I wasn't brave enough to call out to him and so for the rest of the journey I sat in a rigid state on the bench at the back of the boat wondering about the next stages of the journey I was on.

Just going through the motions I had made it onto the boat I looked at the flat calm of the sea, as we would say a mill pond and felt grateful that it wasn't rough. But just to be on the safe side I would sit still to keep the seasickness at bay and look out the back of the boat. The water churned and formed white froth to emerald green to bright blue. A huge wake formed as the boat cut through the sea, the seagulls wheeling and calling behind the boat. There was no land to see in any direction. Already the island seemed so very far away, my heart sank uncertain now into what I had begun. The hours of journey stretched in front of me. It was all unknowable and I felt suspended in the nothingness of being on the boat, the view just an uninterrupted horizon. We were just boat, sea and sky.

As the boat churned through the water, my hair was whipped about my face by the wind and every now and then a salty wisp would land on my lip. I had sat in the same spot at the back of the boat, only daring to slightly turn my head. I hadn't moved in over 3 hours, terrified I would be sick. Standing would have made me feel the motion of the boat more. I was cold and rigid, as the boat's engines rhythmically thrummed. I silently willed this terminal journey to end and dreading equally that it would. My eyes rested on the horizon seeing nothing but the straight line, then very slowly I realised I was looking at something. It was hard to make out, was it a cloud? It was just a cloud but hang on it was changing colour and now I realised coming out of my trance like state that this was land!!!

The low cloud on the horizon grew from a bump, to large hills and mountains.Time that had felt like it was suspended on the boat started again in ernest. The land was forming in front of us at first slowly and then we were at the mouth of the Mersey. Other passengers were crowding onto the deck and I could see buildings and I spotted the Liver Building, a sight that I had seen many times before when I had travelled with my family. Just that thought was enough to make my eyes fill again, this time I had to do this alone. The journey so far had exhausted me and I still had two trains to get. I carefully got my pack on and watched the bustle of the seamen getting ready to dock the boat.

Now the ropes were tied and the boat was still at last. I became part of the stream of foot passengers leaving the boat down the metal steps and onto the pier, the boat now looming next to us. But I wasn't looking at the boat, my eyes were on the crowd moving like a river to the train station and I instinctively followed them. My legs slow to move and stiff from sitting and my back straining under the weight of the pack as I walk.

Arriving at the railway station I made my way through the people who were confidently going about with an air of authority in stark contrast to me, who was trying to not look as lost as I felt. As I tried to orient myself, there was a tap on my arm and I turned around almost toppling with the weight of the pack, and steaded myself. I saw a woman holding out a small wicker lidded pot, which I instantly recognised as my own!

"Oh" I caught my breath.

"I think you dropped this love" she said gently. I took the pot from her outstretched hand.

"Thankyou" I managed to say as she turned and was lost into the crowd.

I stood holding the pot and trying to work out how it got from my pack to the platform floor? I also realised that there would have been no way I would have been able to bend to pick it up, the pack being slightly higher than my head meant tipping forward, would have meant falling down!.This act of kindness galvanized me into action and I made my way to the platform.

The sleek high speed Intercity trains were all lined up, noisy with their diesel engines idling. I felt a bubble of excitement just seeing them, for me in real life for the first time, and for a moment my anxiety changed into delighted anticipation of this adventure as I pulled myself onto my train with my free hand, the small wicker pot still clutched in the other. I read and reread the stops that were printed onto strips of wide paper on the carriage door window, making sure this was the right train for me. I found a seat and shrugged off my pack, stowing my wicker pot. I shifted the backpack to the seat next to me, knowing there was no way of lifting this onto the luggage wrack above my head.

The whistle was blasted from the guard on the platform and we were off. All of a sudden I was part of the landscape as we sped along, placenames on platforms flashed by, cityscape red brick terraces and warehouses gave way to farmland, past English country estates, to tiny hamlets.

As we went along my worry of falling asleep and missing my stop evaporated, there was no way I would fall asleep! I was on high alert trying to see station names as we flew through the platforms at speed, we were getting near to the change I needed to take. As the train slowed I readied myself to get off and put on the pack that felt unbelievably heavy and I gingerly exited the train.

As I stood on the platform wondering where to go, I realised that my train was over a footbridge and I hurried as quickly as the heavy pack would allow, now anxious that I might miss this connection. My train was on the outer edge of the station along with all the small commuter trains, this would stop at every station it went through. I had by now been travelling for 6 hours and home felt a very long way away, as I wearily made my way onto the train and found a seat. I just had to make it this little bit and then at the very least I would stop moving! I put my pack on the seat opposite me and hoped no one would ask me to move it. As more and more people piled onto the train a young man sat down right next to my pack, we didn't make eye contact and I casually looked out of the window as I fretted about how I would get the pack off the seat.

The train pulled out of the station. I was hot and tired and tried hard to focus on the names of the stations that we stopped at, but the longer I was on this train the further I felt from home. As these feelings of unease raced through my mind I thought of my sister who would meet me off the train. That at least I had this to look forward to, I wasn't totally alone. But there was an immediate problem, my fellow passenger in front of me had fallen asleep. His head went from nodding to slowly stilling and falling sideways onto my pack next to him. Would I have to wake him? The train was slowing, and this was where I needed to get off. With a sharp yank, I grabbed the pack and put it behind me and shimmied it on. The sleeping boy had rearranged himself and I frantically scanned the platform as we came alongside looking for my waiting sister.

I had spotted them, she was there along with her boyfriend. Once off the train I half collapsed into her waiting arms, the weight of the pack now felt impossible and her boyfriend disentangling me from it.

"God this is heavy, what the hell!!" he said with shock and an appraising look as he swung it onto his own back." I smiled wanly, as the tears of relief filled my eyes.

"Thankyou" I said hoarsely.

My sister gently walked me away to the waiting taxi rank as I garbled the events of the day from the soldier on the boat, to the lady at the train station to finally the boy sleeping on my pack! The taxi made its way through the city that would be my new home for 3 years. The buildings all looked strange and so much red brick! There were rows and rows of terraced housing, original houses for the workers that had fueled the industrial revolution. This was the working heartland of England and it was nothing like the gentle hills with lapping shores of the island and I felt the first true pang of loss.

The taxi stopped opposite the halls of residence on a busy main road, large Victorian gothic buildings either side all blending into one and a line of large trees lining the straight road and the taxi stopped by the curb next to a building with a sign above the door that said Admissions. I lent forward and paid the driver as my sister and her boyfriend wrestled with the pack. We all piled out. Hesitating slightly, I said

"Well this is the address, do you think we go in here?"

"Well we can ask" My sister said, striding to the door. Immediately inside there was a high dark wood counter, and sitting behind it was a middle aged woman at a desk.

She looked up over her glasses, her black dyed hair making her look severe and very unwelcoming which matched her voice!

"Oh so you have arrived then!" she said with a tinge of annoyance.

"Miranda Brunt, from the Isle of...

"Man, yes that's me " I finished her sentence and stumbled on "I set off this morning," she didn't even look up. She was busy moving paper on her desk and making sharp ticks on a list she had located.

"Right well you have a room across the street in Linden Lodge, room 3." She read off her sheet in front of her, showing not the slightest flicker of interest in us. She was clearly very used to this job and was eliciting no chit chat. She stood up and reached into a set of cubbies behind her. She walked towards the counter

"This is your key and no overnight stays! Under any circumstances!!!" she said in a distinctly warning tone, as the key was firmly placed on the surface between us.

"You collect your mail from here. Oh and take your trunk! It's been here for a week!" As she said this she pointed to the corner where the trunk lay. Seeing dad's familiar cursive looping writing on it made my eyes fill but I straightened and bit my cheek holding back the tears.

Sarah's boyfriend reached for the trunk and turned to me and said kindly "It's ok I'll get this"

As we made our way to the zebra crossing, the trunk dragging loudly on the tarmac, Sarah said "What an absolute hag! I mean she'll know you've come a long way and you're a first year for god's sake! Bloody cheek is what that is!!!!"

"An absolute crow!" her boyfriend chimed in

"What I want to know is how the hell were you supposed to get that trunk to your room! That's just ridiculous" Sarah was now flustered and annoyed and I just quietly sobbed by her side, feeling totally beleaguered.

The building we entered had `girls entrance' carved in the lintel, indicating at one time that it had been a school and from the look of it was well over 100 years old and in not the best of shape, heavy doors marked by time, plastered painted plain walls, victorian trim mostly white with some chips in the paint, with a distinct feeling of institution to it. We had just stepped into 1860! There was a set of tight stairs that somehow Sarah's boyfriend managed to wrestle the heavy trunk up. There was no way I would have ever been able to do this alone! and I again thanked them both for being there.

"I just don't know what I would have done without you!" I said this as the key went into the lock and Sarah swung the door open on my room. A large sash window and a single bed next to it, with a desk and chair opposite was all that was in there and the bleakness of this was overwhelming. We all sat heavily on the bed and I began to cry in ernest.

"I don't want to be here, I'm going home tomorrow" I wailed

"But you can't they said in unison" a look of confusion passed between them

"Lovey you just can't do that" Sarah said earnestly rubbing my back trying to calm me down

"I don't want to be here" I flapped my arm around

"You have to" she stated

"No I'm going back in the morning" I said, petulantly but it was an impossibility that I would or could go home.

Home seemed to no longer exist, it was just this room, this place, this city and it was all unknown to me. How would I manage here? The reality of this being stark and terrifying. That I would have to stay, there wasn't a choice. But I kept saying I wasn't staying and they kept trying to reassure me that I would be ok.

Eventually, my sister and her boyfriend reluctantly said their goodbyes, having to catch the train back to Leeds meant that they would have to leave me in this state. I didn't stop crying from the moment they saw me till I hiccuply and dejectedly said goodbye.

"You'll feel differently in the morning" Sarah said as they left the dorm room.

Once they went I opened my trunk, I saw my old bear handmade by my Mum when I was 2 and lifted him out. I might have been 18 but at that moment I was pleased I had at the last minute put him in there, he was comfort just looking at him and I held the bear close and squeezed it tightly as more tears formed. I was for the first time in my life completely and utterly alone, in a country I didn't know and in a city that I didn't know, the full enormity of my situation washed over me. It was all too much, I couldn't do this and I just wanted to go home!!!

I put the bear down and opened the back pack up, as I saw again the viscount biscuits that dad had secretly packed, under which was a loaf of bread, now rock hard, along with a jar of marmite. I realised that I had no appetite and felt that maybe it would be better if I just made the bed up. I reached for the bedsheets in the open trunk. Just as I was finishing making the bed there was a light knock on the door and I haltingly opened it.

"Oh hi" said a girl my height, round face, dangly earrings, long blond wavy hair. She was wearing a black t- shirt and waistcoat with a long richly coloured patterned skirt, it had little round mirrors along the bottom of the hem and interspersed were tiny bells. On her feet were cloth black mary janes. My clothes in comparison looked very uncool, pale washed jeans with vertical stripes bought last summer, and an emerald colored light knit wool sweater. My feet had little off white tucker boots that I had had since I was 11! This was not a student look and I instantly felt ridiculous.

"I'm in the room next door" she said this my heart sank a little, so she heard me crying...

"I was wondering if you would like to go for a drink?" she added cheerily.

"Oh...., right, ok.... yes, although I don't drink, but yeah ok" this awkward reply from me elicited a smile and chuckle from the girl, who was now smiling widely.

"You can just get a coke then"

Soon we were walking down the unfamiliar streets with my new neighbor and her friends, the streetlamps making the dark night retreat. The city seemed alive with cars and people, and we quickly came to a knot of little alleys with various eateries and pubs. The tables were like kitchen tables and we easily found a spare and settled down. Once we had our round of drinks in, their pints and my coke, they shared that they were all second years on the textile course. Three pairs of eyes blinked back at me, it was my turn...so I regaled them with the stories of the journey and how long it had taken and they ooh and ahhed in sympathy and astonishment

"So what course are you on?" my neighbour asked and the table fell silent

"Oh erm, the Earth and Life Studies course." I said not knowing if they would know about it

"Oh right, then you're at the campus outside the city, you'll need to get the bus tomorrow for the registration." they assured me this was no biggy and would show me the bus stop on the way home.

We were starting to leave and one of the girls leaned forward,

"I was wondering if you would like to go for a drink with me sometime?" I looked at her and realised that she was propositioning me...

"Oh right, you mean to go out" she nodded, so it was a date then " oh well I have a boyfriend, he's not in Derby but ......" I was now blushing deeply and realising that I was sounding very straight! And stupid!!!!

"You know you can't knock me for trying" she giggled and her friends started to rib her.

"She asks everyone" they chorused, laughing and hugging her

"Well you never know" she replied from deep in the hug.

Being out with the girls had at least taken up the evening and as I lay in my bed in my new room, the duvet snuggled up to my ears, I thought about all that had happened in one day! I had actually made it. It had seemed so massive a task, and although each step felt beyond me, I had done it. I also realised that all I had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other. I had worked so hard to be here, I couldn't give up. There was only one way and it was forward.