”Me. Myself. My life. My home. My dreams. My prayers. My, world.”
Well lately, I’ve started to wonder about my life. I had asked myself one question. Just one simple question. Who am I? It may seem an easy question at first ; but it’s not. My life has had it’s ups and of course it’s downs. I’ve dreamed many dreams. I’ve prayed many prayers. I live in one world, with my life. With, me and myself. But the thing that I am unsure about is who I am. I’ve never really questioned my self this way but now that I’m wondering about it, it seems more of a goal or something important that I want to know. I have tried ask people to see what they think, but they all ignored me. I’ve also asked my teacher but he said that I shouldn’t be worrying about stuff like that at my age. I could never tell what they were talking about. It seemed as if I was wearing a mask and nobody else was ; I wouldn’t be able to see. But the problem was that this one simple question branched out into several questions ; such as, what am I going to do when I’m older? or Do I look ok? and Am I average? You see, I’m not an expert myself but I do know who the world goes around, and I do know Maths, English, Science and stuff but that’s not the point, the point is that I’m not good at answering questions like this. Anyway, I’m going to be telling you how I answered this question…
It was just an ordinary day. My mum walked me to school as usual. I went into to the playground as usual. I met my friends as usual. But something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what it was but I definitely knew that something was wrong. It could be anything. My stomach started to churn and my head was spinning round and round. Over and over again. I felt sick. The feeling started to rush from my stomach to my throat. I was going to be sick, I knew it. I just knew it.
Without saying a word to my friends, I rushed from the playground to the corner-shop. Alice worked there, she was kind and simple. But in a good way. I told her that I felt sick and she gave me a bucket. I sat there for a couple of moments, just waiting in silence. Until she said ” You’d better get to school or you will be late.” I didn’t get why no one spoke to me using my name. Never. Never ever. No one has ever spoken to me by my name. Now, not even my mum. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was to frustrated to even think about feeling sick. I just stormed of into the distance.
Maybe it was because they didn’t know my name, but of course my mother knew my name. Did she? She had to. She called me – wait. What did she name me? What is my name. Who am I?I kept on coming to the same conclusion and I kept on finding ways to ask myself the same question.
I skipped school that day. And the next. I hid in my den ; it was the basement, with a couple of things from my dad. The only things that I had left of him. He was in the RAF ( Royal Air Force ) for several months. He never came back, but the news spread like wild fire. From door to door. Household to household. Person to person. Until it came to me. I found out that my father had crashed his plane. It was to save the others. He knew my name. I could remember him talking to me but each time he came to call my name. The daydream drifted away. It had been a couple of year since then. I was ten.
I lay in my den for a while. Just in silence. I was going to skip the next day too. But then I heard a knock on the door. My mum rushed to the door to see who it was. It was Officer Donald. He was a police man. He had been told that I had missed school for the past two days. I was devastated. I hadn’t thought about Officer Donald. I hated him. When I was younger, I had met him several times. He had always told me that I should keep on going to school or I could get into some serious trouble. I couldn’t imagine what was to happen next.
I was on the run. Rushing out of the basement before my mother could even say my name. Past houses, buildings and several roads. My mind was clear. All of my thoughts had seemingly drifted away. All I could think about was my dad. His face became clearer. I could see him properly. I was him. I knew it. But I told myself that I had to keep running. Running away from my fear. My most dreaded fear. I hated to let my mother and father down. They always used to look at me with a certain glare in their eyes. I hated it when they looked at me like that.
I could hear sirens. It was them. It knew it. I just knew it.
They were getting closer and closer at the minute. My legs ached and my stomach churned for food.
My head was spinning. I felt dizzy. I stopped. I knew it was over. My mind was out of control. Memories. Simple, old, wonderful memories. Were flashing in my mind. My legs felt droopy. I fell to the ground. My head crashing into the concrete. Crimson red blood was oozing from my head. dripping down. Down to the ground. I couldn’t move. It was my dad. He was standing in front of me. Right in front of me. I was him! I had to be! I remembered his face. The twinkle in his eyes, and the sparkle in his smile. His hair was as messy as usual. He wore his usual scruffy clothes. “Hello. It’s me. Do you remember me? Hannah. Do you remember me? Hannah Jones. Do you remember me?”
“Y-Yes” He smiled at me. Then disappeared.
That was me. Hannah. Hannah Jones. Hannah Marie Jones. That was me. I know now. Who am I? No, just no! I am Hannah Marie Jones.
Only kidding, I’m Olivia Anne Davies. I am here in Fab Mag. Right now. We’re leaving! It’s so weird how time flies. The other day I was scrolling through my articles ( as you do! ) . And I landed on my very first article. My very first article!! I was sooooooooo bad! Oh my gosh! I had to make some adjustments. I had to. Anyway, it’s great to see how far I’ve come. It’s been a wonderful time here in Fab Mag! I have really enjoyed it! I’d like to say I big big BIG BIG BIG thank you to some people. Thank you to, Mrs Thornton, Mr Simpson and Mrs McGuinness. Also a thanks to my friends at fab mag, Afsana, Tia, Najibah, Kamran, Finn, Thomas and load others. Oh, and well I can’t forget my sister. Thank you… Martha. * sigh *
Anyways, lets finish this of by saying. Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed. Have a great day! Goooooooooooooooooooooodbyeeee!
Here are some cute pictures!