This is just a little thing i wrote and would upendo to continue it but i just want to hear what wewe think of this before i do. rate and maoni plz!!!
I didn’t know how to tell my mother that I wanted to leave the country. I wanted to tell her the real reason but I was convinced that it would upset her and I wanted her to be happy. How could I explain to her that her fiancée hated me and wanted to ship me off to a boarding school in Switzerland? I didn’t want her to feel that she would have to break up with him because I didn’t like him. Rephrase that, because I hated him. He obviously loves her and she loves him. I’m just getting in the way a bit. So I’ve decided to leave London, England and songesha to Washington, America. I have not just gone to some bila mpangilio place in the USA. My dad lives in Forks, Washington. He’s the chief of police in that small town. Charlie and I we haven’t been spending a lot of time together, long distance relationships don’t work out so well. I thought that going to live with him would be a good thing, we could get to know each other more, I would get away from Darren (mum’s fiancée), I would get a taste of a new culture, get away from Darren, get a cute American boyfriend, get away from Darren, I could learn to drive and get a car and finally, get away from Darren. I haven’t repeated myself at all, have I?
I arrive in Forks and I immediately know that I won’t get homesick. If I feel like I am missing nyumbani all I have to do is look out my window and up at the sky. The weather in Forks is like the weather in London. Cloudy, cold and rainy. Brilliant. There goes my tan. Charlie picks me up in his police car. I have to say that I am not embarrassed kwa it. I upendo his police car. I can remember times from when I was little when he would take me for a ride in his cruiser and turn on the siren and the flashing lights.
“So, Kayla,” Charlie says in his American accent. Small talk has never been his thing. “How have wewe been?”
“I’ve been great, dad,” I say in my English accent. It sounds weird in America. I feel so out of place.
“Great,” he says, “How’s your mom?”
“She’s great too, very happy.”
“She’s getting married again, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. I hated thinking about how my mum would be getting married to that Darren. But if it made her happy I wasn’t going to interfere. I suppose I could grow to like Darren. When he’s dead and buried.
We stayed in silence for the rest of ride to his house. I could tell he knew I was uncomfortable talking about mum’s remarriage.
It wasn’t long til we were inside his house and I was making him a drink. Charlie was never great in the kitchen.
“You start at school on Monday,” Charlie told me.
I groaned. “But that means I’ll have to be put back a mwaka because of my age.”
“No wewe won’t, I spoke to the principal,” Charlie explained. “You’re in junior mwaka now.”
“But I still have to do one zaidi year,” I whined. “I was leaving in June.”
“Do wewe want to be put in sophomore year?” he asked. “I can go back and ask and then wewe will have to do two zaidi years.”
“Junior’s fine,” I said, quickly. “How old are they in junior year?”
“Seventeen.”
“Great,” I said, sarcastically. “Not only will I be isolated because of my nationality but also because of my age. Whoop.”
“No one will isolate you, Kayla,” Charlie said.
“Of course they will. Not only am I the new girl in junior year, I’m also the new English sixteen mwaka old girl in junior year.”
I walked through the doors of Forks High School and knew that I would not survive on my own. There were so many students and so many classrooms and corridors according to the map I had in my hand. I looked at my timetable and saw I had Gym first. I sighed. I hated physical education. I followed the map to the gym hall and cursed myself when I found it. If only I hadn’t I would have had an excuse not to do it. I opened the door and peeked inside. The hall was filled with students in kit and playing badminton, complete with teacher supervising. I let the door shut and took a deep breath. I hated walking into classes late and have everyone stare at me. I turned around, ready to walk away but I was spotted kwa a lad.
“Hey.” He walked up to me. “You’re Michaela Swan, right?”
“Kayla,” I corrected him. I hated the name Michaela. It’s too long and it sounded too formal to me.
“Right, Kayla, I’m Mike Newton,” he introduced himself. “Do wewe have Gym?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “But I have no kit.”
“That’s ok,” he smiled. “I’ll say I haven’t either. Keep wewe company.”
I smiled at him. “There’s no need, honestly. I wouldn’t want wewe to get into trouble.”
He just smiled and walked into the gym. I followed him. He walked right up to the teacher and I followed him like a little Lost puppy. As I walked all eyes were on me. I felt like some kind of precious gem because their eyes followed my every move.
“Coach Clapp,” Mike said, to the male teacher. “This is Michaela Swan.”
The coach turned his eyes on me.
“Chief Swan’s daughter,” he said, eyeing me.
“Yes I am,” I said, unsure why he was eyeing me.
“English?” he asked.
“I did songesha from England,” I stated the obvious.
“But are wewe English?”
“No I was born here in Forks.”
“Good,” he clapped his hands together. “Go get your kit on.”
“She doesn’t have it, Coach,” Mike said. “This is her first day.”
The coach looked slightly grumpy kwa my lack of kit.
“Very well go sit on the bench.” Coach Clapp pointed to a bench on the other side of the hall. “Newton get your kit on.”
“I don’t have it either,” he mumbled.
“Sit on the bench with swan then.”
Mike and I walked over to the bench and once again all the eyes in the room followed me. I sat on the bench and mike sat inayofuata to me.
“So,” he said, his hand running through his hair. He must be nervous. “What part of England are wewe from?”
“London,” I answered.
“Do wewe miss it?” he asked.
“Not really. Forks is kind of the same. Weather wise.”
Mike laughed and looked away from me to watch the people playing badminton. I watched them too finding it funny when someone did a dramatic songesha to save the shuttlecock from hitting the floor. But someone caught my eyes. A lad with bronze hair playing a small girl with dark hair. He played gracefully and the shuttlecock never hit the ground. I watched him for what seemed hours. Just watching the way his arm arced to hit the shuttlecock, the way the light his hair, his eyes. They were a golden brown and I was practically Lost in them. Mike alisema something to me but I didn’t hear it because the golden eyed boy had found my eyes.
I didn’t know how to tell my mother that I wanted to leave the country. I wanted to tell her the real reason but I was convinced that it would upset her and I wanted her to be happy. How could I explain to her that her fiancée hated me and wanted to ship me off to a boarding school in Switzerland? I didn’t want her to feel that she would have to break up with him because I didn’t like him. Rephrase that, because I hated him. He obviously loves her and she loves him. I’m just getting in the way a bit. So I’ve decided to leave London, England and songesha to Washington, America. I have not just gone to some bila mpangilio place in the USA. My dad lives in Forks, Washington. He’s the chief of police in that small town. Charlie and I we haven’t been spending a lot of time together, long distance relationships don’t work out so well. I thought that going to live with him would be a good thing, we could get to know each other more, I would get away from Darren (mum’s fiancée), I would get a taste of a new culture, get away from Darren, get a cute American boyfriend, get away from Darren, I could learn to drive and get a car and finally, get away from Darren. I haven’t repeated myself at all, have I?
I arrive in Forks and I immediately know that I won’t get homesick. If I feel like I am missing nyumbani all I have to do is look out my window and up at the sky. The weather in Forks is like the weather in London. Cloudy, cold and rainy. Brilliant. There goes my tan. Charlie picks me up in his police car. I have to say that I am not embarrassed kwa it. I upendo his police car. I can remember times from when I was little when he would take me for a ride in his cruiser and turn on the siren and the flashing lights.
“So, Kayla,” Charlie says in his American accent. Small talk has never been his thing. “How have wewe been?”
“I’ve been great, dad,” I say in my English accent. It sounds weird in America. I feel so out of place.
“Great,” he says, “How’s your mom?”
“She’s great too, very happy.”
“She’s getting married again, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. I hated thinking about how my mum would be getting married to that Darren. But if it made her happy I wasn’t going to interfere. I suppose I could grow to like Darren. When he’s dead and buried.
We stayed in silence for the rest of ride to his house. I could tell he knew I was uncomfortable talking about mum’s remarriage.
It wasn’t long til we were inside his house and I was making him a drink. Charlie was never great in the kitchen.
“You start at school on Monday,” Charlie told me.
I groaned. “But that means I’ll have to be put back a mwaka because of my age.”
“No wewe won’t, I spoke to the principal,” Charlie explained. “You’re in junior mwaka now.”
“But I still have to do one zaidi year,” I whined. “I was leaving in June.”
“Do wewe want to be put in sophomore year?” he asked. “I can go back and ask and then wewe will have to do two zaidi years.”
“Junior’s fine,” I said, quickly. “How old are they in junior year?”
“Seventeen.”
“Great,” I said, sarcastically. “Not only will I be isolated because of my nationality but also because of my age. Whoop.”
“No one will isolate you, Kayla,” Charlie said.
“Of course they will. Not only am I the new girl in junior year, I’m also the new English sixteen mwaka old girl in junior year.”
I walked through the doors of Forks High School and knew that I would not survive on my own. There were so many students and so many classrooms and corridors according to the map I had in my hand. I looked at my timetable and saw I had Gym first. I sighed. I hated physical education. I followed the map to the gym hall and cursed myself when I found it. If only I hadn’t I would have had an excuse not to do it. I opened the door and peeked inside. The hall was filled with students in kit and playing badminton, complete with teacher supervising. I let the door shut and took a deep breath. I hated walking into classes late and have everyone stare at me. I turned around, ready to walk away but I was spotted kwa a lad.
“Hey.” He walked up to me. “You’re Michaela Swan, right?”
“Kayla,” I corrected him. I hated the name Michaela. It’s too long and it sounded too formal to me.
“Right, Kayla, I’m Mike Newton,” he introduced himself. “Do wewe have Gym?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “But I have no kit.”
“That’s ok,” he smiled. “I’ll say I haven’t either. Keep wewe company.”
I smiled at him. “There’s no need, honestly. I wouldn’t want wewe to get into trouble.”
He just smiled and walked into the gym. I followed him. He walked right up to the teacher and I followed him like a little Lost puppy. As I walked all eyes were on me. I felt like some kind of precious gem because their eyes followed my every move.
“Coach Clapp,” Mike said, to the male teacher. “This is Michaela Swan.”
The coach turned his eyes on me.
“Chief Swan’s daughter,” he said, eyeing me.
“Yes I am,” I said, unsure why he was eyeing me.
“English?” he asked.
“I did songesha from England,” I stated the obvious.
“But are wewe English?”
“No I was born here in Forks.”
“Good,” he clapped his hands together. “Go get your kit on.”
“She doesn’t have it, Coach,” Mike said. “This is her first day.”
The coach looked slightly grumpy kwa my lack of kit.
“Very well go sit on the bench.” Coach Clapp pointed to a bench on the other side of the hall. “Newton get your kit on.”
“I don’t have it either,” he mumbled.
“Sit on the bench with swan then.”
Mike and I walked over to the bench and once again all the eyes in the room followed me. I sat on the bench and mike sat inayofuata to me.
“So,” he said, his hand running through his hair. He must be nervous. “What part of England are wewe from?”
“London,” I answered.
“Do wewe miss it?” he asked.
“Not really. Forks is kind of the same. Weather wise.”
Mike laughed and looked away from me to watch the people playing badminton. I watched them too finding it funny when someone did a dramatic songesha to save the shuttlecock from hitting the floor. But someone caught my eyes. A lad with bronze hair playing a small girl with dark hair. He played gracefully and the shuttlecock never hit the ground. I watched him for what seemed hours. Just watching the way his arm arced to hit the shuttlecock, the way the light his hair, his eyes. They were a golden brown and I was practically Lost in them. Mike alisema something to me but I didn’t hear it because the golden eyed boy had found my eyes.
The 21-year-old British actor revealed that he hasn’t even read the whole book series yet! He shared, “I haven’t [read the whole series]. I’ve read all of the vitabu except for Breaking Dawn. I didn’t want to know how it ended. I wanted to have the uncertainty of not knowing where it’s going to go, so I just read the first three. I want to read the last one, but I’m determined to wait.”
If wewe want to meet Robert in the flesh TONIGHT, he’ll be at the the Hot Topic store at Square One Mall in Saugus, Mass. There will be a Q&A and an autograph session at 6PM, but remember to purchase your $30 Twilight Tour T-shirt so wewe can get in!
There are people that kuvuka, msalaba our lives
in tiny fractions of time,
in the briefest of encounters,
and yet they leave and incredible mark
in our hearts and in our minds forever.
"Each time a person stands up for an ideal, au acts to improve the lot of others, au strikes out against injustice, that person sends out a tiny ripple of ove and hope, and crossing each other fro a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppresion and resistance."
Now these poems were written kwa some one else, but deseved to be shared and they kind of have something in commen with the series.
in tiny fractions of time,
in the briefest of encounters,
and yet they leave and incredible mark
in our hearts and in our minds forever.
"Each time a person stands up for an ideal, au acts to improve the lot of others, au strikes out against injustice, that person sends out a tiny ripple of ove and hope, and crossing each other fro a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppresion and resistance."
Now these poems were written kwa some one else, but deseved to be shared and they kind of have something in commen with the series.