So for this post I thought I’d share with you a short story I’ve written…
so instead of doing a long intro I’d just like to say, enjoy!
I knew something was up. Mum hadn’t spoken to Cathy, my best friend, for at least two weeks and Cathy hadn’t seen her for ages. Mum loved Cathy, from the day that I met her, my mum decided that she was part of the family, which was good for Cathy because she had parent problems, but that’s a different story. Thinking back now I’m pretty sure Mum loved my best friend more than she every loved me, although, I wasn’t the one who moved to Australia without her.
“…and Morgan, as usual, was being so, so, so annoying.”
Where was mum? Was she ok? I’d completely zoned out to what Cathy was ranting on about after no news on how Mum was.
“Kat! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying? It’s important! You remember how horrible Morgan is, don’t you?”
“Sorry the connections bad, after all you do live at the other side of the world. Anyway I have to go now, bye” I lied, not honestly caring about Morgan and her ‘gang’. I would have told Cathy about how I feel about Mum but it just didn’t feel like it was the right moment. Actually, recently it never did. After finishing chatting to Cathy I turned to my diary, yes, it sounds childish but it really helps me organise my thoughts:
No news on Mum. I’m getting seriously worried now, after all it’s been two and a half weeks. What if she’s ill…? No. Dad would have told me. What is she has gone off and got married to someone else? She promised she wouldn’t but I have feeling she wouldn’t mind breaking that promise…
All my thoughts were swirling round my head each one racing to become the most important, each one forcing me to worry about it, each one wanting to be centre of my attention. I just couldn’t deal with it any more. I get that my only main problem was Mum but my mind was making me worry about the little things; there was a Spanish test tomorrow, I haven’t done my Maths homework, I don’t even have a proper best friend; like one that lives in the same country as me, who I can see every day and tell all my secrets to.
“Katie dinners ready!” Dad called up the stairs. Shaken out of my thoughts, I trudged down for dinner. It didn’t help that recently our food had been eaten in utter silence, for some reason. Silence gave me more time to think about everything that was going on and by the time I was lying in bed all my feelings were spinning around and around my head like a hurricane; forcing me to see the bad in everything. It danced and jumped creating havoc, picking up all the minor details of my life and churning them around, turning them into a massive deal. I was trapped inside my own life with no one to talk to, no one to tell my problems to, and no one who understands what my life is like. No one at all.
Next morning, unsurprisingly, I was tired although my head felt unnaturally empty as if a weight had been gently lifted of my shoulders and my worries gradually floated away. Squinting through the beaming winter sunrise I realised that, maybe, last night I was simply overreacting, I mean tones of kids have life a lot worse off than me. It was all okay. I would be fine. The sun was stunning that morning so, camera in hand, I went for a stroll to shake off any remaining anxiety. The rest of my day was a blur of unexpected joy as if last night had not existed, as if my worries had just been a bad dream. The relief I felt was unreal the only thoughts swimming around my mind all day was It will all be okay. You know in films after a giant fight or a fire or something everything seems all calm and quiet, well, that day felt just like that. I spent the majority of it inside my bedroom or outside taking photographs, photography was my escape. I love how each and every photo tells a different story and you can really express your feelings through photography, for example today I managed to take lovely photographs of the sky and some pictures which were full of colour and brightness because that was my mood whereas the other day the majority of my photos were quite dark and made you really think instead of jumping to a conclusion that my life was happy like today’s. The only thing that made me feel slightly uneasy was that Cathy had told me that Mum hadn’t bothered to communicate with Cathy at all. Again. Considering to tell Dad my worries, I went down stairs towards the sitting room where Dad would most probably be only to find Dad on the phone. To Mum. They hadn’t spoken in forever.
I cannot properly remember what happened next although I seem to recall falling- as if I was plummeting down a ginormous hole with no end. Surrounding me was pitch black walls and below me was just simply darkness. Just before this happened I felt my throat slowly tighten like a knot inside my stomach or a giant clenched fist and I was struggling to breathe. The breaths I did take were more or less gasps as I attempted to swallow down as much oxygen as possible. All my surrounding felt as if they were going to fall in on me and the photos on the walls were staring, glaring down at me with disgust and all I could hear was a dominating, swooshing noise.
‘Katie, Kat! Few you’re okay; I was starting to get worried.” Dad chuckled handing me a refreshing glass of cool water. Dad was silent for a while, wrapped up in his own thoughts, absentmindedly stroking my hair so I thought I may as well reflect on what happened to me. One minute I was happily bounding down the stairs and the next I was struggling to breathe, collapsing on the floor. What was wrong with me? Oh yes, and Dad, Dad was talking to Mum, why? The though made me shiver and my throat tighten again so I shook of the concept and suddenly realised Dad was talking to me again.
“… and so, darling, Mum was wandering if you wouldn’t mind flying back to see her. By yourself”
“Wait, why?” I asked, overwhelmed with confusion and panic.
“Because your mum is seriously ill, didn’t you listen?” Asked Dad seeming surprising calm and annoyed, rather than worried or upset for my mum.
I couldn’t reply because I’d started to feel dizzy again, so Dad just let me lie there and think. After a while he decided to leave me to it but I didn’t really notice because my mind was racing with anxiety. I had to go didn’t I, after all Mum was seriously ill? Did Dad say fly by myself? I had to fly all the way to England by myself? Is Mum okay? Will she survive?
Okay Kat breath. In… Out… In… Out…
Should I go? Should I stay? This was the best way to approach this problem according to the internet but so far it’s brought me nothing but stress. Okay, at the time I may have felt a little calmer but afterwards I would go back to being my normal, now panicky self.
One week later…
“Katie, sorry but your mum is getting worse, you’ll have to decide what you’re going to do I’m afraid, love.”
But what exactly should I do? If I stay Mum may die and I won’t of been able to say goodbye but if I go, well, recently I’ve been having these panic attacks about nothing, what if I have one on the plane with no one there to look after me? No, I shouldn’t let anxiety take over my life.
That was my story and please, do, leave comments on what you think about it.
I feel like I can relate to “Katie” in lots of ways and when I wrote about her I accidentally made her very similar to me!
Also I’d just like to say a huge thank you for 100 likes on Photo Dreams and 23 followers!!! I honestly never thought I’d get that far!
One final thing: I’ve decided that all the pictures on this blog should be my own so… yeah!
Thank you for reading,