Right. I survived a summer with the cousins, GCSE mocks, a painful tooth removal and the most horrific rainstorm Dartmoor has ever seen. I survived about 8 injections per term, kept on top of a homework pile that makes Everest look like a molehill, and even managed to win a Sixth Form Academic Scholarship. On top of that, I survived being viciously attacked by a length of wrapping paper, and somehow I managed not to explode after eating too much Christmas food.
Now, it's time for 2011. Here comes the big terror of every fifteen-year-old's life. GCSE exams. According to my mother, getting anything less than a B will result in me dropping out of school, living on the street and eating out of rubbish bins because no-one will offer me a job. Or worse ... working on the Tesco's checkout in Swindon.
But I'm not going to curl up and die just yet. This year looks daunting, and even if I don't think about the GCSEs, there's still a heck of a lot of other things to turn my liver to mush. I have to choose my A-Levels, start thinking about which University I want to go to, save money for driving lessons, and a thousand other things the world will probably fling at me unexpectedly. Most likely when I'm trying to sleep or running for my life as my friends try and give me another hideous makeover.
But fight I will, because I know what I want and I'll fight tooth and claw to get it. My dreams are just out of reach, and I'm going to have to run like heck to catch them.
Besides, it's only another year until The End Of The World anyway, isn't it?