Year 8 (Part Two)Mature

I haven't mentioned my parents much. That's mostly because they were only interested in my life when I did well in school. Or a teacher called to say I was making trouble. They'd met Harry once and decided my interest in guys was very strange. That didn't change when they met Carl #2. Every Halloween the barrack had a fireworks night with rides. Without fail me and Amy would always go. That year I went with Carl #2 and his friends as well. Amy had accepted the idea of Carl # 2 and me when she started to get to know one of his friends.

As always I stood and watched my dad playing with the army band, he mostly played the flute and piccolo. He was away less now, probably because he was getting older now. Whenever he went away it was mostly to play with the band or to train the recruits in skiing (A bonding exercise the army used for recruits). The barracks we actually lived on was a training one whereas before they'd be normal army bases.

After me and Carl #2 had been together for five months I broke it off. Or he did, the truth is it's a bit blurry. I wanted to end it, annoyed by how clingy he was being. I used a line my dad had told me, about how we were too young to know what love was. He stormed off, yelling that I listened to my dad too much and that it was off then. Amy and Poppy heard the rumours and asked if I was okay. I'd never intended to act the part of the hurt girl but everyone else seemed intent on forcing on me. By the last lesson of that day Carl # 2 was distraught. He hadn't meant the words and wanted to take them back. I wouldn't let him.

A few days later I stayed later in the textiles room, it'd become a new hide-out since the teacher had thought I was so good at hand stitching odd patterns on cloth. He found me and confronted me, wanting to know why I wanted it over. I shrugged, unsure what to say. It was pattern for me, exactly how me and Harry had been the year before. He left, annoyed at my lack of excuse.

It was a complete shock to me. Harry had always just accepted it when I ended it. Carl #2 was completely different, getting so emotional it threw me. I wasn't particular in touch with my feelings and far from kind and caring. I was blunt and harsh, like my dad, as Carl #2 had said. The next few weeks were like treading water. We became friends after, but it was more like the first year, he had no qualms insulting me from time to time. You'd think I'd learn my lesson but it became a repeat of last year. Only it was me and Carl #2 that kept breaking up and getting back together.

Every morning before classes start me, Amy and her older brother Jon and his friends would hang out in the canteen. They'd play card games and me and Amy would watch, talking about this and that. It was during these morning talks that she'd show me bits of story she'd written. I'd read it, amazed by how well she wrote and eager for her to write more. I became an avid reader and wasted lunchtimes reading books in the library. Listening to Harry and Jodie discuss this manga. Usually I sided with Jodie when it came to best characters in a manga series. It was completely based on how cute the character looked, but I was only thirteen.

I'd been hiding in my head or a while and got addicted to my Mp3 player. I'd fall asleep every night listening to it. The songs helped to fuel my imagination. Writing the stories didn't really cross my mind. But then one evening when on MSN and talking to Amy she convinced me to give it a shot. My very first story was terrible to say the least. Amy sent the file back to me heavily edited but I didn't mind. She'd like the basic story idea and wanted to read more. It was enough encouragement for me. I was still doing poems occasionally, but I spent most of my free time reading or hanging out with my friends in the barracks.

We played childish games like tag and vampire in the house without a care. I was still addicted to the swings and the spot Jamie had assaulted me? It was a well-known short cut to the spar so I visited it almost daily. I guess it normalised everything, but I don;t know if that was good or bad. During summer holidays the barrack would have fairs and events on the main field. We'd always take part, getting our faces painted. One year they had a bouncy castle covered in water and soap and it was challenge to get through it without falling back down. I managed it quite well but didn't win or anything.

The End

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