This morning I found out that someone who was very dear to me in Finland has passed away. I didn’t know how to react and so I headed to school, telling myself I would make it through the day but when I reached the bus station and my friend asked me if I was ok, I burst out in tears.

I spent the day noticing things, everyday things, that now reminded me of him, forming a balloon of some sort into my throat. I also kept telling myself I was being selfish, feeling sorry for myself when people, his family and friends were in a much tougher situation. But on the way home I allowed myself to realise that death is a lesson, not to the ones who die, but the ones who live. Of course I was being selfish, of course it affected other people more, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t affect me.


We all live in the same world but we all live our own lives, feel our own sorrows, no matter how big or small. This experience was mine and mine alone in the sense that I was feeling it for my own reasons. Someone was out there crying because they had lost someone important. I was crying for a less moral reason. Mainly because I couldn’t belive this has happened, I couldn’t believe he was gone. But somewhere in the back of my mind I was crying because I was afraid.

See, everything at home has changed, everything I expected to somehow freeze and wait for me whilst I was gone, kept moving, kept changing and living, without me there. It’s like I left the house for a day to go on an adventure and came back to find that all the furniture had been moved, every surface had been tampered with and I was left to find things, desperately trying to reorganise something even when I couldn’t really remember how it had been in the first place. I can’t go home. Not now that any routine, any everyday things I, for some stupid reason, thought I would see and live again one day are gone. I expected that everything would wait, that somehow I could live in this world and that one without consequences. But I am left with the sharp realisation that this is an impossibility. When I go back I will not remember the bus times because they have changed, I will not be able to go see my friends at my old school because it has been shut down, I will not be able to slouch on the sofa with my best friends because we have drifted apart. I will not be able to tell him what I always wanted to because he is not there.

These things affect my friends too, in a more gripping, in the moment, living it kind of way and I am not trying to tell myself otherwise. But it affects me like this and it most definitely affects me just as much. Just because I am not there doesn’t mean I am not affected by it, just because I am not there when the joke is told, doesn’t mean I don’t find it funny. Just because I am not there when the bad news are delivered, when people’s eyes well up with disbelieving tears, doesn’t mean I am not crying all the same. Distance doesn’t change the impact of the feeling. I am terrified of going back, mainly because it will be the final proof of all my fears. I will go to what I once called home only to find that the wallpaper has been changed, that an extra staircase has appeared, a new floor has been built. I will not recognise the furniture and most importantly I will not recognise the people living there. Neither will they recognise me.

All this is entirely my fault. And that is what is worst. There is no one else to blame, there is no one I can be angry at except me. I can’t complain, I can’t cry about it to my friends because they have every right to be angry at me too. And that is why I’m scared, that is why I’m sad.

Death is a lesson, ironically, about life. We cannot control things and we cannot expect to. Things change and we change. The only thing we can do is try to change for the best.


Silence of Birdy

Helloooo! Here’s the next chapter of the story my friends and I have been writing. This chapter is not by me, it’s by my wonderful ‘wife’ who will kill me if I say her name (hannah)  😉

Silence of Birdy

Chapter two:


He is SO fucking annoying! I mean, ok, Dads have to be annoying. Somehow. But some teenagers have nice, worried dads, who come to their class plays and try to help with their homework. Other kids don’t get suspicious when their dads offer to drop them at school, like me. When my dad called me back this morning when I was on my way out of the house, I was confused. When he told me to sit down on the other side of the big oak table, I was worried. But when he told me he would drop me off at school I actually stopped breathing. I felt like a rabbit in front of a big truck. Not knowing which direction I should run.
Ok I know that all sounds like I was over reacting. I mean it’s just a dad who offers his son to drop him at school, thousands of boys and girls have a dad who does that BUT the difference is mine never EVER does something just because he feels like it. He does it because he wants something and when he wants something he gets it. So his offering to drop me at school was more a command and I knew there was no way out of it anyway. So I didn’t even try to tell him he really didn’t have to do this. I just sat down and waited until he finished his breakfast and the newspaper. Oh the newspaper! Don’t think I mean the sports part of it, Oh no I mean the business part. You know, the bit in the newspaper which you just skip because you know you wouldn’t get all the numbers and courses anyway. Ok maybe I should explain that a little bit more: My dad is the head of Trede worldwide industry, one of the biggest companies in the whole of England. Two years ago my mom said my dad lives for this job and I answered that I think he IS the job. Nothing’s changed at this point.  Sometimes he gets up in the middle of dinner to talk with someone from around the world on his phone. That’s the kind of person my dad is. Read more

How I Almost Died

Yes. I know. It’s been ages. But I haven’t really had anything to write about! Nothing life changing or life threatening has happened in these few weeks, until today.

And I can almost hear you all going ‘oh god, what dream has she had this time’ or ‘what atrociously embarrassing has she said to a good-looking guy this time’. No, no, it’s none of that, (except I did have this extremely weird dream about my best friend dying and her mother finding out about it on TV) this is actually an event, like a thing that happened to me rather than me happening to it.

So, there I was humming happily along to the song at the end of Frozen, completely unaware of the life changing thing that would occur in about 60 seconds time. I grabbed my tea mug, my popcorn and my phone, heading towards the staircase. I remember going down the first step  and glancing at my mum and my dog cuddling on the bed, when suddenly all I could see is the ceiling whizzing into the opposite direction, my head banging against something very hard, bobbing forward and back repeatedly, like I was vigorously agreeing to something. I had a fleeting thought of ‘I’m falling down the stairs. Oh my God. People die from this. I could die from this’, and then my ankle caught on something at an awkward angle and I came to a halt. A pain shot up my spine and at last I realised to cry out in pain. I pulled myself to my stomach, not really needing to cry but doing so out of shock, and rested my elbows on the stairs. My mind was, for once, not thinking in words but rather in actions and so I mentally searched my body for any signs of injuries. All the while I lay there, sobbing in shock, waiting for my mother to run down the stairs to check I was alright. She found me just half a minute later, laying in the same place with my dog running over me eagerly to eat the popcorn I had sent flying through the air, like over-delayed snow. She told me to always be careful in the stairs, to which I remember thinking ‘Do you have a Tardis? Because that could have been more useful 60 seconds ago.’

So yeah, that was my life altering event. And yes, I realise it was slightly caused by me, since I am the clumsy ass who wears too big socks. But the important part wasn’t how very unthreatening the situation seemed afterwards, but the part where I considered I might die, because right then I was thinking how very much I wanted to go to the college that I am dreading, how much I wanted to not want children, and go to unfortunate funerals that were not my own, and how I very much wanted to continue not wanting to live on those really bad Mondays. Because weirdly, when you’re at the edge of not having to go through all the bad things (even if that edge is just your melodramatic features overshadowing the sensible ones), those are the things you want to go through the most.

So today, because I’m too busy and let’s be honest, lazy to come up with anything out of my own head, I’m going to do the Disney Song Tag, because it looks really fun but I’m depressingly aware that I’m going to want to kill myself in about ten minutes. This is basically just taking Disney songs and books, putting them in a bowl and then whisking them together… So here we go…

1. A Whole New World- What is your favorite newest fantasy series?


Oh god. It only took one minute. Um… Does Percy Jackson count as new? Because I haven’t read any of the really  new ones… Yeah, sure it counts. So it’s Percy Jackson. Because I’ve been on a bookshop diet and that’s what I’m reading right now…

 2. Part of You World- What book world would you like to live in?


Hunger Games! No, no, I’m kidding. I’m not insane, you should all know that by now! It would actually be Harry Potter, because let’s be honest, anyone who didn’t answer Harry Potter is living in denial.

3. Let it Go- What book/series do you wish everyone would stop talking about?

November 1st, 2013 @ 20:49:52

Ok, so please don’t get offended… But it would be the Mortal Instruments. I don’t have much right to say this, since I’ve only read one book, but I don’t think they sound that brilliant! *que Mortal Instruments fandom with their tattoos and torches*

4. When You Wish Upon a Star- What book or series do you wish you could have more of?


Oh  shit. This is a tough one… To be honest, I would really want to have more of everything I’ve ever read. But at the same time, I think it’s good that all the best ones ended the way they did. Usually they leave the rest for imagination and that’s important, because if something was expanded, I don’t think I’d be particularly happy with it. So my answer is nothing 🙂

5. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious- What is the longest book you have read?


I’m not actually sure… It’s either one of the Harry Potter books, or Jane Eyre, I don’t know which one is longer since Jane Eyre was written in such tiny letters… But my brother read War and Peace (for fun) so he beats me in this one…

6. Hakuna Matata- What book could you read over and over without a care in the world?


Pride and Prejudice!!!!! Without a doubt!!! I could read that book, get to the last page, flip the book back to the beginning and read it again. And again. And again.

7. A Spoonful of Sugar- What couple has the sweetest relationship?


Elizabeth and Darcy. Percy and Annabeth. Viola and Todd. Liesel and Rudy. Bingley and Jane. Jane and Rochester! Hazel and Gus. Ben and Lacey. James and Sirius (oh come on we all ship it!)

8. You Got a Friend in Me- Who are the best “best friends?”

gere-this-one-little-toy-story-easter-egg-proves-once-and-for-all-how-clever-pixar-really-isSince right now I’m reading the Percy Jackson series, I think that the best friends are Percy, Annabeth, Grover and Tyson, because even though they’re not together all the time, they all still know that even if the gods accidentally ran into each others knives or the world collapsed (or both), they would still be best friends.

9. Zero to Hero- What character wasn’t expected to be a hero?


Unexpected hero? All I can think of for this one is the Secret Garden – when I read it at about 13 years old, I was really surprised when the father came home in the end and wasn’t really bitter and depressed anymore.

10. You’ll Be in My Heart- What Character death made you cry the most?



Why would you even bring this up?! *hides behind hands and weeps pathetically* Ok, *deep breath* ok… So, it’s still really hard to talk about this, but… when I read the Book Thief, I cried for days over the death of Rudy. And it wasn’t even a terribly descriptive death! But just the knowledge that *sob* he just had to die *sob* and when Liesel never *sob* told him *sob, rest of sentence cried in a wail* that she loved him!!!! Too much, too much too soon! You can’t expect me to just recover in 16 months!!! *runs away, tears splattering to the floor beneath her*

Silence of Birdy

Ok, so after a surprisingly small amount of texts typed in capital letters, arguing, swearing and bribing with chocolate, my friends agreed to have our story thingy on this blog. So I’ll just explain how it works: there are six of us, one of us writes the first chapter, then sends it to everyone else. The first person who thinks of a good way to continue it writes the next chapter from the point of view of their character. Everyone will write maybe two or three chapters, until we have reached a point where it seems like a good time to end it. So yeah… It might get a bit confusing here and there and the personalities of the characters will constantly be changing as everyone sees things differently but we hope you can enjoy it despite that 😀

Silence of Birdy

Chapter 1:


I stared at the board blankly, not even trying to listen to what Mrs. Posy was saying. My mind was on pause, and I couldn’t really remember the last time it was playing properly. I jumped when a snot ball flew past my face and landed in someone’s hair. The guy who threw it sniggered. This was officially the most boring first day of school in history. Not that Robert Orwell’s Boarding School for Artistically Skilled Students, or ‘ROBS ASS’ as the students called it, ever really had been the gathering place for cool events. Except last term. But that was an unfortunate exception that was very likely never going to happen again. But I hoped. Read more

I screamed his name. No answer.

I tried to swallow. It was painful but not impossible. I’d swallowed a piece of glass and now it was cutting me from the inside. I couldn’t move.

I screamed his name. No answer.

I stared at the broken windscreen in front of me. None of it was where it was supposed to be. When I crashed, it all exploded, slicing my face. It must have sliced him too.

I screamed his name. No answer.

The sound of rain clattering on leaves startled me. I slowly realised rain was dripping on me too. It felt like ice against my burning cheeks, as it slid down to my throat.

I screamed his name. No answer.

Slowly the taste of blood leaked into my mouth. The shard of glass in my throat was digging itself deeper into my windpipe. I attempted to spit, but then jolted in a silent cry of agony. The taste of iron was so strong now, I felt like I was holding the tip of a knife in my mouth.

I screamed his name. No answer.

He must be dead. He could not have survived this. It wasn’t me, like it should have been. They had taken him, my little boy and they had forgotten me, left me to live. I did not want to live. And that was worse than dying.

I didn’t scream his name, for I knew there would be no answer.