Rarriscool's Journals

Letters From The Past: Part 2

Set in the winter of 1914, during the first world war. It's pretty self explanatory, and as a joint history/english assignment there are a few historic terms/facts shoved in for good measure. It got me a national curriculum lvl. 7, which considering all last year i got 5+s, i was over the moon. I hope you like it, and thanks for the encouraging comments of part 1, my friends fished that letter out of my bag and took the piss out of everything about it and i have yet to be given a single apology. Thank you again ! you're alll very lovely (:

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Dearest Mother,

It is now mid-December and already this winter has been the foulest of seasons. Not a day has passed where the weather has shown the slightest of mercy on us soldiers, day after day, with harsh winds and rain like icicles flooding the trenches and soaking our feet.

Every morning we are dragged from what little sleep we can manage by the orderly officer and ordered to guard against a dawn raid by the enemy with our bayonets fixed. In these 4 months Iâ�™ve been â�œlivingâ� this pointless half-life not once has there ever been any actual need to stand there during â�œmorning hateâ�, my eyes still blurry from sleep and my shoulder screaming at me for a proper mattress.

We are then expected to refill the sandbags that are supposed to drain these mud-holes of their unwanted moisture but scarcely make much difference. Most mornings after heavy rainfall the trenches need repairing and so it is that no actual fighting has ever yet taken place.

No glorifying victories brought about by heroic actions! No national pride and patriotism! Just the desolate no-mans land covered by the sacrifice of thousands of good, honest men. Where I was promised excitement there is but dull mind numbing activities set, it seems, only to prolong this needlessness they call war. How much good can this repetition really do?

All those months ago when I first joined the lines, I made many friends about whom I wrote to you. However, sadly, they have all but one perished, buried deep within the filth I spend my days in, brutally and unforgivably murdered. Shell attacks, snipers, trench fever, rats the size of cats. It is a wonder anyone has survived this â�œGreat warâ�.

At night it feels as if the walls of the trenches are closing in on you, sucking you in until you might never see the light of day again. The repulsive stench of your friends, rotting beside you, their lifeless corpses just left to decompose is inescapable, and is an unwelcome reminder of the dangers that surround you, of which most are invisible but all unavoidable.

One day a few weeks ago though, this all changed for me. I was sent out to no-mans land- a death sentence for many. I was ordered to be a listening post and find out what the enemy were planning, but, as many of them were in the same position we were in, their conversations were of trivial importance to my superior officers and only made my heart ache as the Germans talked of families at home, of fiancÃ©es and children all relying on those men.

On my return to the trenches I made the mistake of lifting my leg a fraction too high and as a result ending up in this hospital bed. I do not know exactly what happened, except that my leg is not what it was thanks to the careful precision of a sniper bullet mistaking my foot for a head.

The doctors say I am no longer fit for war-so perhaps I shall soon be returning home to a simpler, easier life. It is Christmas soon and it would be nice to see you all again, spirited and happy, ignorant of what life could easily revert to. I doubt the war will have finished by Christmas day, so perhaps this chance to leave early is a blessing in disguise. I shall write again with more news soon.

All my love,

Albert.

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Well.....

Letters From The Past: Part 1

This is set just after the second world war. it was an RS assignment, and i was a bit proud of it so i figured i'd post it here, you know, just in case anyone was interested. I like writing empathetic letters and imagining i'm someone else ..even if i have to put myself in a distressing and horrifying situation such as the holocaust.

If you're reading this i hope you enjoy, i have at the moment two other letters to post, both of which from world war one . newaizz...

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Dearest Elisabeth,

These past few years have been the hardest I have ever endured. Being separated from you feels like a knife has been dug into my chest, and my poor heart been ripped in two. I have never felt more helpless or alone, and each night I pray that wherever you are, is far better than that wretched place I found myself in.

The only thing that has kept me strong is the sound of your laughter, filled with joy and pure delight that I will forever treasure. It was a year before any of this started, a year before all the pain, misery and humiliation those hideous Nazis inflicted upon us.

We were sitting in the parlour, you, Felix, your Daddy and I. The sun shone brilliantly through the window, creating delicate, shimmering patterns on the wall opposite. I watched as your bright eyes followed the glittering shapes, your small mouth smiling so wide your pink cheeks dimpled and little gurgling noises escaped. Words cannot describe how much I have missed you, or how grateful I am for those short years we had together.

It was the worst day of my life, when they took you from me. You were so tiny, so innocent, your dark curls blowing in the breeze as you screamed for me. All I could do was watch. I felt broken, stretching my arms out frantically, desperate to grab hold of and somehow rescue you. I tried to chase the wagon they put you in; piled in with so many others you could scarcely move, but it was no use. I felt my poor exhausted legs crumple beneath me in defeat as your father cried your name, his usually calm eyes wild with fury and panic.

Hard as I try, I have never been able to block your piercing, terrified voice as they stole you, and each night I curse myself for not being able to go with you and hold you again, even if for the last time.

Instead I was forced to work, work until I collapsed from exhaustion, work until every inch of me pleaded fruitlessly to stop. I worked through scorching heat and debilitating cold, as those repulsive fat-cat Nazis fanned themselves and donned their lavish fur coats. They looked at me as if I was dirt, worth nothing more than a maggot they might skewer onto a fishing hook. I was worthless to them, and they enjoyed parading their superiority every damned day. To them, I was a rat, not a human, but to me it was quite the opposite. I will never be able to fully comprehend how one man could have so much hate for one race, or power enough to persecute them as he pleased.

I am quite alone now, sitting in the front room of my new flat overlooking the canal.

It has been several months since the war ended, yet these memories will stay with me to my death. Then, Elisabeth, my darling baby girl we will be reunited. Be brave my sweet, it will not be long. Your father and brother are no doubt with you as I write this, I see you in my mindâ�™s eye, you are laughing once more, your cheeks pink and eyes bright, happy and safe in your fatherâ�™s loving arms, your dear devoted brother standing heroic beside you. How I long to join you, and be forever holding you.

I promise never again shall I leave you.

Infinite love,

Your mother.

"Never Mind A Heart That's Broken, Right?"

OH DEAR

Mae just couldnâ�™t understand it. There she was, offering her heart body and soul to this dude and all he cared about was whether his steak was medium or well done. She looked down at her hands, tapping the tips of her fingers on the side of her plate impatiently. Oh god, Mae thought desperately to herself, Iâ�™ve gone and stuffed this up royally, havenâ�™t I?

Across the table from her, the boy was examining his meal intently, busying himself, determined not to let Maeâ�™s words sink in. He focused on the expensive slab of meat that sat before him, oozing with red juices that were in danger of turning his precious crispy sautÃ©ed potatoes into an unappetising soggy pile. The boy leaned back and cleared his throat, causing an apprehensive pair of large blue eyes, wide with worry, to meet his. All of a sudden, he couldnâ�™t breathe.

â�œI need the bathroomâ�

â�œOkay.â�

Mae watched as he left the table, scurrying away like a frightened rat. Mae smiled slightly to herself. Yes, that was exactly what he was acting like, a rat. Mae fiddled with the cheap star bracelet, the kind 5 year old children receive in goodie bags at the end of a party, that rat-boy had given her week before at his cousinâ�™s birthday, twiddling each star individually: first the pink then the blue, before settling on green: her favourite colour.

Mae sat for 5 minutes, playing mindlessly with the green star; I know your birthdayâ�™s not till next week the boy had said as he slipped a small paper bag that matched her cobalt summer dress perfectly into her palms, but some of the kids didnâ�™t turn up, and I thought it was cute, like you. Mae had dipped her hand into the bag excitedly, before extracting the little bracelet and squealing with delight: how romantic she had thought, before kissing the boy deeply and hugging him close to her, he smelt so good she never wanted to let go.

Mae peered down at her Penne Arrabiatta, prodding the pasta every now and again, even though her appetite was long gone. She squished a rather large piece of pepper with her fork, only to prevent her mind from wandering in the direction of the menâ�™s room. And so she sat, completely unaware of the many thoughts that were about to rush to the surface of rat-boyâ�™s mind. For now he stood, all alone in the bathroom, splashing handful after handful of cold, harsh water onto his perfect face, completely aware of how out in the restaurant the girl he loved more than anything was slipping through his fingers faster than that water. Yes, he loved her.

The boy stood, letting that welcome realisation soak through, a warm smile creeping across his face lighting every feature.

â�œI F*ING LOVE HER!â� He announced to the entire restroom, causing a disapproving old man to look up as he entered, shaking his head and ranting under his breath about â�œkids todayâ�. But the boy was too overcome with excitement to care as he darted around him to rush to the table, which unbeknownst to him Mae had already vacated, taking his steak and her pasta along with a portion of Eton Mess and one CrÃ¨me Brule home to bury her sorrows in a mountain of food.

The boy stood there, mortified, his face still dripping and shirt slowly becoming wetter and wetter, cursing himself for being such an arse. He ran his damp fingers through his glorious messy dark hair, causing several waitresses and surrounding female diners to sigh collectively as his nose crinkled and he bit his lip to prevent it from trembling. Big boyâ�™s lips donâ�™t tremble â�“ even if they have just been stranded in the middle of London by the love of their life.

But then again, at 17, every girl you go out with is the love of your life, right?

The boy sat down on his chair, and dug into his pocket shakily, and roughly pulling a wad of notes from his wallet and shoving them onto the overly shiny silver plate an overly obliging waitress had graciously placed in front of him and was now standing just behind the boyâ�™s chair grinning stupidly, ready to grab his coat for him as he left. Some girls are so desperate.

It was then that he saw it: Maeâ�™s bracelet, exactly the same as when he had given it to her just one week before, with one exception: the green stars were blackened and misshapen, as if someone dangled them in a flame for too long. The boy began to feel very sick, his insides squirming with guilt. Underneath the bracelet was a note: BITE ME, RAT BOY in bit clear block capitals: the product of a combination of anger, frustration and embarrassment that can bring out the bitch in even the nicest of girls. The boy picked up the bracelet delicately, as if it was Cinderellaâ�™s glass slipper, just ten times more fragile, before securing it safely in his jacket pocket. Heâ�™d never wanted this to happen, not ever.

The boy stood up slowly, his head reeling with unsaid things, and headed for the door, snatching his coat off the giddy waitress without bothering to thank her.

Charming.

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i blame my completely unhealthy obsession with Gossip Girl for this random little thing..i have NO idea where it came from other than i was very bored and being forced to walk around the area surrounding my house..which meant like 10 hills :(

XXX

-Lauraa

oh and i'm kind of addicted to "Timmy" by Meg&Dia..i listened to it all through writing this.. :D

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ycx2N13ctk

"That's Good - Hate Is A Passionate Emotion"

Each word stained with malice
Your eyes alive with spite
Yet still so gloriously fine
Perfection burning bright

I hide behind my sharp reposte
My voice it never falters
Your words they cut me so deeply
Your expression is the salt.

Into your eyes once more
Like oceans drown me further
Sheer arrogance, pure egotism
Hatred seeps through every pore

But still I can't resist you
Echoing throughout my dreams
Unrequited, irreversible
Emmotions bursting at the seams.

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I wrote this last night, while i was meant to be getting rest so today i could doo even moore maths and moore science..oh and plus a ton of The Tempest shiz i gotta memorise..themes and such. oh lord HELP ME. 1 week to go till SATs/NCTs or w/e the lovely government changed them to ...they said they were abolishing them..obv. had a change of heart, eh ?.

anywhoo..if you really want a backstory on the "poem" then i'll tell you..so much easier to talk about with strangers...my friends just start giggling and singing "I won't say i'm in love" from hercules..

oh, and that isnt actually the title...i just am re-reading the twilight books atm..the quote matches soo..hey presto !

X PS, anyone know a cure for rhyming..i think i'm secretly stuck in primary school :p

Soundtrack to my life c.18/04/08

i'm not sure if anyone really cares, but i'm sitting in pitch black right now in my kitchen. 2 minutes ago i was sat up on my kitchen counter top next to the windowsill looking up at the starry sky above, hazed with the orange of the street lamps from the nursery behind my school. I'm in a wierd place right now, i'm not quite sure how to explain. I guess i'm having an "adolescent moment." Earlier my dad asked me what was wrong just because i wasnt grinning from ear to ear or bouncing off the wall. He claimed i was "looking like the world is against you". So i just said "i'm a teenager, it's what we do". That shut him up. It's not that i hate the world..its just a very confusing place at the moment. And i was ~~blessed~~ cursed with the ability to over analyse everything. And to worry. Oh yes, I'm good at that, my mum calls it "caring".

anyway, enough of my rant/confession/random pointless spiel of mumbo jumbo.

Here's the soundtrack to the vast muddlement that is the life of laura-emily..

I don't know - Lily Allen
Hurricane - The Hush Sound
My Heroine (acoustic) - Silverstein
Hometown Glory - Adele
Breathe - Paramore
Thunder (acoustic) - Boys Like Girls
Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade
Northern Downpour - Panic (!) At The Disco
Phantom Of The Opera - Andrew Lloyd Webber/POTO OST
It's The Way You Make Me Feel - Steps (haha)
Strong Enough - Stacie Orrico
You Are The Moon - The Hush Sound
Tired And Uninspired - My American Heart
Untouched - The Veronicas
Warm Me Up - The Audition
Pain - Jimmy Eat World
Risky Buisness - The Cab
Let's Go To Disneyland - Consort With Romeo
Stop This Song (Lovesick Melody) - Paramore
No One Can Touch Us - Sing It Loud & Alex Gaskarth

Sometimes Ignorance IS Bliss.

She stared across the room at the girl whom for ten years she had referred to as her "best friend". It had been almost a month since they had last had a real conversation, a fact that cut Lucy deeply now as she studied her best friend carefully, and began to cringe deeply. The girl was stood a few yards away, laughing, her high pitched squeals clearly audible from the step on which Lucy was now perched, eating her lunch as usual.
Even though the converstaions of those around her had reached their normal break-time boom, to Lucy, all noise had melted away.

Everything slipped into slow motion.

Lucy felt a violent shiver take control of her body as each bone shook in canon. She couldn't believe it as reality tied knots in her stomach. One knot for every bone visible in her "best friend"'s now painfully gaunt face. The force of this unwelcome sight had left Lucy winded and unable to think.

Lucy had stopped eating now, and her half-eaten ham roll lay rejected in its foil wrapping on her lap: just like the one now laying un-opened in the bottom of the bin that her "best friend" stood next to, almost defensively.

"Oh My God", Lucy thought to herself, unable to say the words out loud. "I was right".

Realisation washed over Lucy like an unforgiving wave, dragging her under a sea of horror as her sharp mind recovered from the previous hindrance. She tried desperately to get up, causing the remains of her lunch to scatter across the cold tarmac surface, but her legs simply buckled in defiance as she tried to drown out the 5 words that she had been trying to deny since the previous summer.

"Alice. Has. An. Eating. Disorder."

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this is just a random thing that i wrote at midnight last night when everything just got too much and the only thing i could think of to relieve even a fraction of the burden was to write it out. Social Turmoil i think describes my current situation quite well, i want to kick myself for having an interest in psychology and hard-hitting books.

sometimes ignorance truly is BLISS.

I read too many romance novels..

ok, don't laugh at my crappy poem ok?? I don't even know why i picked up my pen and wrote it..my dinner's going to burn now..and i'm missing hollyoaks..but OH WELL ! tell me what you think :)

Untitled.

This is not good, not right
the way your eyes reflect the light,
reminds me of another time:
your fingers tangled between mine;
so why is there a sudden chill,
inhibiting my deepest thrill,
numbing my intense desire,
extinguishing the hidden fire,
something's wrong, i can't define:
an emptiness that's underlying.
your touch is gone - I'm all alone,
memories fade, drowned in a drone,
monotonous, unrelenting,
our distance, slowly cementing,
but with you so close tonight,
your expression meangingful, contrite.
A spark of hope inside of me,
something so flawless could still be
if you would only one again
fill the spaces in my hands. .

Chapter 1: Your Lies are bleeding through Your Teeth.

Your Lies are bleeding through Your Teeth.

Chapter one:

I met Josh in late July when I was eight.

Straight from the off I knew there was something about him, something almost hypnotic, and I couldnâ�™t stay away. I was sitting out on my front porch waiting for Hayley, my best friend, to arrive, drumming my fingers impatiently on the wooden railing that ran along the decking. It was this very same railing that had stopped me slipping onto the graveled driveway 4 feet below numerous times when I was still in nappies. It was late evening and the low sun was streaking the street with glorious golden light, causing everything to suddenly glow in the dusky half-light. It was a magical night, as if everything had been coated in fairy dust. The breeze was warm, and carried the delicious, Smokey, scent of a barbecue from a few houses down.

I watched the road vigilantly, slowly growing more impatient as the minutes ticked by, waiting for Hayley to arrive for our sleepover.

Then something caught my eye. Across the road a tall boy around 9 or 10 with warm brown hair, and a ropey frame sprinted anxiously down the road, followed by a smaller, slightly rounder boy around 6 or 7, trudging resentfully behind. I knew it was rude to stare, but for some reason I couldnâ�™t draw my eyes away from the older boy, he was just soâ�¦entrancing. I loved the way his hair flopped over his eyes, and the enchanting way the hazy summer night light reflected off of every facet of his being. I was transfixed.

So transfixed, in fact, that I didnâ�™t see my best friend come skipping down the road in the opposite direction, or hear the light thud of her Nike hi-tops as she hopped up the porch steps. It wasnâ�™t until Hayley realised that the only way to wake me from my beautiful dreamy state was to shake a packet of Oreos in my face, causing me to jump back and squeal in shock, that I even noticed she was there.

â�œWhatcha staring at?â� She asked, smiling with gentle confusion.

â�œOh, ermâ�¦â� I answered, glancing over at the boy with the warm brown hair. He had stopped running now, and had his arm around the younger boy who I assumed to be his brother. The younger boy appeared to be speaking fiercely to the older boy, scowling harshly and I found an unhealthy curiosity about the pair take over and cause me to lean forward.

Hayley repeatedly dangled the cookies in front of me, and this time I ignored her. The older boy had turned around, staring me dead in the face. The street around us melted away, and the sound of Hayley beside me munching teasingly away at the Oreos vanished. The boy just looked at me, smiling slightly, a crooked smile that sent chills up my spine and shortened my breath. This reaction was one, that at age 8 I was neither expecting, or fully understanding of. But it was a reaction I would grow to associate with one person, and one person only. Josh.

Later that week we met again. Hayley and I were having a water fight on my front lawn, and he walked past.

The sun was intense, and the bright light seemed to ricochet off of Josh as if he were a living diamond. I froze, suddenly overwhelmingly self conscious, and looked nervously over to Hayley, who was looking from Josh to me and back again, an amused smile appearing on her face as she rolled her eyes. I guessed sheâ�™d recognised him from the other night, and looked down sheepishly. Josh stopped, seemingly sensing that he was being watched, and that his presence had triggered something behind him, and turned around. Hayley lengthened her gaze in his direction, and the water from the hose trickled pathetically down my leg, creating a cool puddle around my bare feet.

The sight of Joshâ�™s melted chocolate eyes so close up was mesmerizing, and I began to wonder if the liquid dribbling down my leg was in fact water. He was so gorgeous, each feature flawless.

â�œHeyâ� he said, casually, nodding his head politely causing his deep golden hair to flick back slightly. I marveled at how it wasnâ�™t glued to his head with sweat in the unbearable heat.

â�œHeyâ� Hayley repeated simply, hints of confusion and delight audible to me in her voice. I smiled meekly at Josh, kicking myself that I didnâ�™t even have the guts to say â�œHiâ� to him. I hoped to god he could hear my telepathic greetings and not think that I was a complete idiot.

I wasnâ�™t exactly outgoing as a child, and that never really changed much. It was only because our parents were friends, and that we met when we were still in nappies, that I was so close to Hayley. I wasnâ�™t blessed with confidence, or the ability to be myself around strangers or acquaintances.

â�œIâ�™m Hayleyâ� said my best friend, her left arm outstretched eagerly, and a wide smile now plastered across her pretty fair face, â�œAnd this is Evelynâ�, she continued, gesturing to me as an afterthought.

â�œEvie.â� I muttered, barely capable of being heard, but loud enough to catch Joshâ�™s attention.

â�œHuhâ� he said smiling warmly, encouraging me to speak up. Something I appreciated, something nobody ever did.

â�œMy nameâ�™s Evie, my Mom only calls me Evelyn when sheâ�™s angry at me or somethingâ� I repeated, giggling quietly toward the end.

â�œCoolâ� Josh said, laughing along with me, â�œ I get that too, I always know Iâ�™m in trouble when I hear â�˜Joshuaâ�™ echoing down the hallways.â� I laughed harder, feeling a new wave of confidence raging through me. I couldnâ�™t believe it, and smiled wider.

â�œSo your name is Josh then?â� interrupted Hayley, redirecting the attention of the visitor.

This was how things often happened. Even my closest friend didnâ�™t understand my confidence issues, and how much effort it took to speak to strangers. I was fine when you got to know me, bubbly and chatty, it was just at first: it was all more difficult for me than other people. Somehow, josh had managed to make me laugh, and connect with me on our first meeting. Why did Hayley have to ruin that? I watched her smile sweetly up at him, stretching up onto her tippy toes so that their eyes were level as he nodded slowly, giving her a funny look, and I couldnâ�™t bear it.

I grabbed the hose from waist and turned the nozzle so the water came spurting out at great speed. The heat and the unfairness of the situation were getting to me, and I aimed the hose straight at the â�œhappy coupleâ�. Hayley screamed and Josh just laughed as his clothes became soaked. Hayley then looked toward me, anger filling every feature, and I turned and ran inside.

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sorry for lack of post. cheers for all the encouragement on the prologue ! made me smile like craazy :) XXX hope you like, just scene setting atm, you like? buzz/comment/whatevs ! XX

-lauraa. X

IF I LET YOU LOVE ME, BE THE ONE ADOREDâ�¦CHAPTER 6.

IF I LET YOU LOVE ME, BE THE ONE ADOREDâ�¦

Chapter six. Josh.

It was a pleasant morning as I stood and waited for Ruby to come out of her house. Admittedly, there was still 15 minutes before the bus would was due to arrive, but we still had to walk 2 blocks, and the bus had a habit of arriving at a time different from the one specified. I could hear loud voices coming from the Darcyâ�™s hallway and loud thundering steps, then more shouts, a squeal, and a thud as the front door shut and out walked Ruby. She walked forward with purpose, trying desperately to conceal the very evident look of worry on her face. Her hair was long, very wavy and blonde, trailing down her back and she had lightly rimmed her eyes with dark grey eyeliner.

To my surprise Ruby was not in fact wearing any hint of pink. I suppose I should have believed her when she told me she was not in fact a Barbie doll, but somehow the blonde hair blue eyed stereotype (and having an annoying know-it all brother) had gotten the better of me.

Ruby was in fact wearing a Vibrant red t-shirt and grey skinny jeans. As I watched her continue to stride down her driveway, my visions of her wearing a tank top and mini skirt vanished into thin air as she slowed her pace and walked with rather less confidence towards me.

â�œMorningâ� said Ruby, smiling slightly, her voice shaky and unsure.

â�œHeyâ� I said trying to reassure her. School was a daunting thing, even for me. I knew what it felt like to be the â�œnew kidâ�. 7 months ago that was meâ�¦

â�œJames should be out in a sec, and Mumâ�™s taking Bella to school in the car. Whereâ�™s Zac and Nate and John?â�

I smiled at the fact sheâ�™d managed to remember all my brotherâ�™s names considering sheâ�™d only ever met Zac and myself.

â�œOh, Zac got in a mood with me this morning and decided to get the earlier busâ� I chuckled lightly â�œRather him than me..I think Nate and John went tooâ�.

Then there was another loud bang as James appeared from the house with just under 10 minutes for us to get to the bus stop in time. Didnâ�™t they have schedules in England?

â�œHiâ� he grunted forcing a slight smile in my direction and shooting Ruby the darkest look Iâ�™ve ever seen. So much for us being friends, and so much for the Darcys being a happy family. I nodded back and looked purposefully at my wrist, checking the time on my imaginary watch.

â�œWe better runâ� I said, starting to walk with great speed down the street, desperate for Ruby and James not to be late for school on their first day the way I was. Trust me, arriving late to a new school does not create the right impression and can easily taint teachersâ�™ views of you.

Ruby and James followed me quickly, arguing furiously under their breaths and I often felt myself being stared at. Were they arguing about me? I tried to put that out of my mind knowing I was being overly full of myself as we turned the corner to meet a big yellow bus. I heard James gulp and Ruby squeal. She ran forward to my side, her eyes wide with wonder but her mouth set in a straight line and her forehead slightly creased.

â�œItâ�™s really yellow, how absurd!â� Ruby said as we found our seats and James continued his dirty looks.

â�œWhatâ�™s the deal with your brother?â� I asked nervously, not wanting to pry, but feeling that I was not in fact imagining his sudden change of attitude to me, to everything.

â�œOh, um.â� Rubyâ�™s whole body tensed and she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. â�œI donâ�™t know really, heâ�™s probably just pissed cause youâ�™re sitting next to me and not him.â� Man this girl was a BAD liar, and she knew it. Ruby kept glancing over at her brother who was sitting two rows in front of us, next to some geeky looking kid with over enthusiastic mousy hair, wearing a t-shirt at least a size too small.

James was in complete contrast to his neighbour, looking as if heâ�™d just stepped off the runway, chiseled face contorted into a deep smolder that was making a group of freshmen girls giggle uncontrollably. I looked back to Ruby who was now eying each of the girls carefully. I guessed that Ruby was herself going into her Freshman year, even though sheâ�™d never mentioned this. I, however, would be stuck in Sophomore year with Grumpy guts over there, forced to pretend I hadnâ�™t noticed his apparent anger and make small talk. Or maybe heâ�™d completely blank meâ�¦

Out the window I could see an outline of Brooks College Prep Academy High School, one of the top rated public schools in the area. Ruby had seen it too, and I watched as her already tense body appeared to freeze up as she stared out the window, willing away the moment when she would have to step off the bus and through the gates into her new life. Unfortunately that moment came too soonâ�¦

â�œRight, here we are, everybody off, come on!â� yelled the bus driver.

â�œCome onâ� I tried to speak as softly as I could, I understood how she felt-school is a bad enough prospect without the added burden of everyone staring at you, not just because youâ�™re fresh meat and others avoiding you, for that very reason, but because the very sight of school had sent you into a dumb stupor.

â�œRuby, get off the bleeding bus!â� James shouted from the sidewalk, causing the nearby group to freshmen girls to all sigh in unison, as I helped ruby down the steps so she wouldnâ�™t fall (she was shaking so much I was scared she might fall flat on her face, not good on your first dayâ�¦I didnâ�™t really want her remembered as the girl who fell off the bus).

As we entered the building I took a deep breath and turned to James, still keeping close to Ruby so I could keep an eye her, this girl was like a walking disaster.

â�œHey, James.â� I said, trying to sound as casual as I could.

â�œLook, Josh-â�œ he started, his clear voice and british accent causing A LOT of heads to turn, mostly female. This guy was sure going to cause my self esteem to plummet around girlsâ�¦

â�œJames.â� It was now Rubyâ�™s turn for devilish looks, her eyes penetrating her older borther's skull intently and he nodded.

â�œJosh is in your year, youâ�™ll have classes together I expect. For godâ�™s sake James, heâ�™s trying to be helpful-and friendly. The least you can do is be polite.â�

So I was right, I was the problem.

â�œEr you can get your timetables from the office over there, see you at lunch?â� I looked hopefully at Ruby, trying to diffuse the situation before a scene arised, smiling in my most encouraging way. â�œIn the canteen, is that ok?â�

â�œUm, yes I supposeâ� She grinned nervously, â�œSee you later then Joshâ� and with that she scuttled quickly down the hall to the office without even uttering a word to her brother.

That left me, alone with James. Well, of course, not exactly alone as we were currently surrounded by quite a few freshmen, sophomore, and even a few junior girls all eyeing James up and whispering excitedly to one another. Geez.

â�œSo, er, are you gonna go get your timetable?â� I asked hesitantly, and I was surprised by James actually smiling at me.

â�œOh, yeah, would you come with me, you know, in case we do have classes together?â� He asked and I detected a note of anxiety in his voice, so I nodded and led the way to the office.

So, what was going on then? Were me and James friends? All I knew was today would be interesting, and I wasnâ�™t sure if I wanted to find out what delights were in store for me todayâ�¦

* * * * * *

Okay, I'm a little bit proud of this chapter! :) I finally got round to writing a synopsis of numero cinco since buzznet was being annoying as hell not letting me publish it in full..meehhh it was shockingly shoddily written actually so i guess its a good thing it wasnt posted..hehe..anyway..chapter 7 is awaiting posting but that wont happen till 8 is completed (warning: i've been trying to do so for a while...) Comment/buzz...PLEASE !! ..dont make me beg...

breif synopsis of IF I LET YOU LOVE ME, BE THE ONE ADOREDâ�¦chapter 5

IF I LET YOU LOVE ME, BE THE ONE ADOREDâ�¦

Chapter five. Ruby.

ls Okay, so ruby is sitting in her room, frustrated because she has made no friends so far in her new home, whereas of course her perfect brother and sister have. Then she starts stressing out over the prospect of high school, and cliques, and tries to imagine what clique josh would belong to, before settling on the fact that he would play guitar! Then she remembers what zac said....at which point she switches on her iStation and turns the volume up so loud that the table it's resting on starts to vibrate and tries to drown out the little voice inside of her head, voicing all her insecurities. Then her laptop makes a noise signalling a new msn message from her best friend back home, Alice. (it's a pretty pointless conversation, honestly this chapter is crap anyway so you're not missing out on anything!). Then she gets all "i'm friendless in this godforsaken place and my room is so frickin' empty" and then James yells at her because her music is too loud and he's trying to talk to his friend andy on the phone and it's "bloody expensive". (can you tell there is ALOT of current friction in that relationship). Then out of the corner of Ruby's eye she sees Josh watching her from her bedroom window, and while half of her wants him to look away and and go away, but the other wants him to help, to know exactly what to do... Then it seems the latter wish has been ignored as he turns his back and walks over to the other side of his room. Ruby's laptop then makes another wierd noise signalling that she has recieved an email from myspace about a "New Friend Request". "Ugh, what idiotic stranger is trying to add me nowâ�¦". Hahaa.. So, lo and behold..it's from none other than Mr Josh Farro himself !! (predictable or what!). A chatty convo ensues about the fact that Josh is from TN not IL (his accent is a bit tawngy, not that ruby really knows enough about american accents to realise..) and then about the fact that the buses are indeed yellow...They both agree to meet in the morning to get the bus for Ruby's first day of school....