Apr 23

I don't come on here much anymore

I don't come on here much anymore
It's not because I'm tired of it, 
And I haven't stopped writing 
Actually that's pretty much all I've been doing
There's this thing that I've been writing for exactly a year now
(now it's longer than Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone, hehe yay)
And I haven't really written anything else
I would share it but when I do
It feels like people are looking inside my soul and poking around in my brain and knowing every feeling I've ever had and I want people to see it but not yet it's too much
I want to have other things to write about
But it's all I am now
It (quite literally) saved me from       everything
A while ago
And I'm ready to be saved by it again
But I don't know if I'll come on here much anymore
I'm very sorry 
It's so magical here

I just wanted to say something
 
Dec 03

Chapter II

Adelaide, Winnie, and Suzannah spent the last day of vacation in Adelaide’s yard, where they threw snow at each other (Adelaide accidentally hit Suzannah in the mouth several times) and held a mock funeral for a snowman who had been knocked down in their horseplay. Despite this happiness of the ending of vacation, it was an ending nonetheless, so trudging off to the schoolhouse the next morning felt nothing short of excruciating 

That day was mostly made up of overly chipper instructors and groggy students, who were fully unprepared for the boredom they would once again face. Adelaide was walking home with Suzannah when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Expecting it to be one of Frederick’s admirers she whipped around quite quickly, which startled poor Edwin half out of his wits.

“Oh, it’s you! Sorry about that.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“Who is this?”
Dec 03

I'm not 100% sure where this was going but I am 538% sure that it has not arrived

Being alive is honestly so strange.
Like 
I had nothing to do with the beginning of my existence, but here I am, fifteen years later
(what even is a year though, when you think about it).
Sometimes I don't really understand what the point of my being here is
(besides to become worm food, which honestly doesn't sound that bad. I like worms.)
And then I open a certain Google Doc, add a few paragraphs, and think "ah yes this is why I'm here"
(and then that disappears the second I start organizing my room)
(not that I don't like organizing. I love it. It's just a long weird series of thoughts I have like, why bother? I'm going to college soon)
(even though it's two years away).
The thing that keeps me motivated is learning stuff about a war that happened one hundred years ago
(do you have any idea how much miscommunication started WWI? It's actually really impressive.)
It consistently gives me feels.
Aug 27

A Glimpse of What Goes on in My Head

Found in my Notes App:

Friend: *points to plain pasta* Do you have any cheese?
Me: Why would I have cheese?
Friend: Because you are you!

For an off the shoulder crop top put on a long-sleeved shirt upside down

Slytherin: ok where did they go this way or that way 
Hufflepuff: *sniffs air* yes

A sign at the Montpelier city limits:
Hunters:
No rifle shooting
Buckshot only

(A list of MARVEL characters recast with my friends)

MARVEL makes me so happy that sight-reading the theme song on my clarinet at 2:00 am gives me goosebumps

THERE ARE TOO MANY YEARS WHY CAN I NOT DELETE ONE OF THEM FROM THE TIMELINE ALTOGETHER AND JUST SKIP TO 1914 AAAAA LITERALLY NOTHING HAPPENS IN 1911 HELP ME THAT'S IT I'M DELETING 1910 ENTIRELY IT NO LONGER EXISTS

I am the master of life, for I can untangled earbuds in the dark
Aug 26

Chapter One (Revised)

“You’re all such lumps!” exclaimed Mrs. Angelica Hargreave, surveying the current state of  her three children, who were all draped upon sofas and stuffed armchairs in a very liquid-like fashion. 

    “There’s not a thing to do, and it’s raining outside!” said Beatrice, the youngest. “I have read too many books, and it is beginning to hurt my eyes.”

    “That’s a lie,” interjected Adelaide from behind the nearest chair. 

    “I’ve just received a rather peculiar letter. Come rouse yourselves from that horrid stupor you’re all in and open it with me.”

“Where’s it from?” asked Beatrice, sitting up. 

“Surrey, evidently.” They followed their mother into the kitchen and gathered around the worn and scratched table (for Frederick had been very reckless as a child), staring at the unopened envelope in question. Frederick, the oldest of the three children, picked it up and held it to the weak light streaming in from the window. 
Jun 29

That Feeling You Get When You're Alone at 4:23 am

4:23 am 
Is the most alone you can be
The birds have begun their day, because, unlike you, they are morning people

When 4:23 am arrives, you know you have survived the night
You can see the outlines of trees, the sky a black that is softer
The promise of a sunrise is there, but you can go into a room with the curtains drawn and still pretend that it is night enough to sleep
Nothing can hurt you or scare you anymore, because the sky is warming up
Nothing can hide under the cover of darkness anymore, because the darkness is not so dark or so threatening
The monsters won't come for you now

You release tension you didn't know you held

The world will wake up soon, but you are one step ahead of them
You have been awake for hours
4:23 am is the perfect moment between awake and asleep, that split second between the moment your breathing slows and the moment you fall completely
May 28

The Meeting Scene (revised)

It was Suzannah who first noticed the two figures standing on the doorstep of the house numbered 37, for Adelaide had been too interested in their conversation about jam. “Who are they?” she whispered into Adelaide's ear. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of them before.”
“I suppose those are our new neighbors.”
“And you didn’t mention them to me before? How rude.”
“Sorry,” she said, laughing. As they continued towards number 37, Adelaide saw that the two strangers were speaking with her mother, and they didn’t seem to be leaving, which sent Adelaide into a slight panic, for she had not had an opportunity to prepare for making the two new acquaintances. The two girls slowed down. 
“Goodness! You can practically see through the shorter one, can’t you?” As Adelaide looked more carefully, she saw that Suzannah was right - the boy was so incredibly fair that she was surprised that he was a real flesh and blood human, and not some kind of spirit. 
May 28

The Girls Chill Together Scene (revised)

The air continued to grow warmer as the summer continued to set in. In the earliest days of June, four girls could be seen walking down the Whitby cliff stairs after school, when the sun grinned down on their shining faces. They walked in silence for a while, listening to the lovely  sounds of their feet on cobblestones and brick.
    “Has anyone finished the essay for History yet?” said Suzannah, suddenly.
    “I have.”
    “I expected you would, Adelaide, it being precisely your cup of tea.”
    “I’ve barely started,” mumbled . “I just can’t seem to make the words fit together right. It would be so much easier if we could just..make equations of it all.”
    “Easier for you, perhaps, bloody difficult for the rest of us,” said Suzannah.
    “I think that words are a bit of a waste of time, really, you can’t make much with them except noise,” said Janet.
    “Well, that’s a bit dark, isn’t it, love?”
May 28

The Prologue

July 1914

One of the most glorious things about Whitby, North Yorkshire County, England, was the miraculous summer sunshine. It turned the four of them to crips to be sure, but there was nothing quite like splashing about in the chilled waters of the River Esk. The four youths could be seen in the river nearly every day of their summer vacation, and they became somewhat of a seasonal fixture. Residents of the nearby buildings would look at them through their recently washed windows and remark to their companions, “Look, if it isn’t those young ones again, but this time one year less young.” And so it went, every single summer. But it was the summer of 1914 when things started to change, unnoticeably at first, then all at once. That was the summer, the last summer, before the war. 
May 26

The London Scene (revised)

“Adelaide, look,” said Edwin, his eyes darting around the edges of the crowd. “There are men coming in.”
“What?”
“They...don’t look friendly.”
“Well, what can they do?”
“Quite a lot, actually, we should probably go.”
“But it’s just started!”
Small scuffles began to erupt around the border of the square as the strange men moved in.
“Adelaide, they’re quite near us now, are you sure we shouldn’t-”
Before he could finish Adelaide had turned around to face a rather scruffy older fellow that had come up behind her. 
“You look young to be here with all these...suffragettes.” He said the word like it was a dirty one, leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
“No one is too young to care about their rights.”
“You got plenty of rights, why do you need another one?”
Edwin urgently tugged her sleeve, which she jerked away from him.
“Because we don’t have plenty of rights, and imagine what Black women suffer-”

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