Dear Emma, 

I’m a terrible person, I know. I should have done the Fairytale Challenge, I know I should be posting.

Life’s gotten a bit hectic this week. I will post when I have more time, I promise.

Love from,



The Fairytale Challenge: Day 1

Dear Emma,

So my lovely friend The Wandering Girl has created The Fairytale Challenge, and I thought I love fairytales, and I love challenges! So for five days I will be posting the topics of the fairytale challenge! If you want to get involved, click here, I’m sure that she’ll love it if more people sign up!

Gemma Logo

Day One: Which fairytale character would you be and why?

Now, there are different ways for me to interpret this question. If it’s which character I’m physically like, I’d probably say Snow White.

She’s cool and all, but I’m not really into the whole sit-down-and-wait-for-a-prince-to-rescue-you type of attitude.

So if it was which fairytale character I’d like to be, I’d probably say Mulan. I’m not sure if she counts as a fairytale character, but according to the internet she does, so I’m going with it.

I just love the fact that she doesn’t sit there and wait for something to happen to her, or sing about how her dreams will maybe come true or that her prince will maybe come, she goes out and she fricking saves China.

If that’s not aspirational, I don’t know what is.


Love from,



The Back Up Plan

Dear Emma,

So I’ve been thinking about my future. Well, I’m being forced to think about my future by the fact that my sixth form application has to be handed in in three weeks.

Terrifying, I know. I can’t even imagine the concept of being in sixth form.

Anyway, I’ve realised something.

The A-levels I’m choosing have absolutely nothing to do with what I want to do with my life.

The thing is, my actual dream life is really unrealistic. I’m not going to go into the details, maybe another time.

I mean, I’m willing to work to get there, and I know that it will be incredibly hard. But I also know that it’s something that means I follow my passions, rather than anything academic.

So obviously there is a high chance that that won’t happen, so I need a backup plan. AKA some A-levels. And an education.

At this point I’m choosing things that I like and that I’m good at, rather than things that will help me to get specific careers or courses at university.

I’m just going to go with these at the moment, because I’m not really sure. I don’t know what I want. Well, I do, but at some point I need to stop being fanciful and be realistic.

But, in my heart I know that I won’t be completely and utterly happy with this academic career and life that I’m currently deciding on, because I wouldn’t have followed my dreams and that will hang over me my whole life.

But it is good to have a backup plan, I must say.

Love from,


P.S. What did you think of my “post” last night? I had no time to write what I wanted to, and so I wanted to find a creative way of saying that this would be up tonight 🙂






The Universe Hates Me

Dear Emma,

I’m in such a terrible mood. Remember this? Yeah, something happened today to do with that.

Basically, today while I was booking tickets to see my friend in a production at the local theatre, I saw that they were holding auditions for one of my absolute favourite musicals in two weeks.

I figured that seeing as it was in the local theatre, I had a good chance of getting a decent part, which is incredible, and I knew it would be a lot of fun. 

Amazing! I thought. 

Yeah, was never going to happen. Firstly, I do have my GCSEs this year (kinda important) and also, the night of the performance just happens to be the night of my prom.

Thanks, universe. 

I was actually really upset because when else would I be able to do this? It felt like the universe had opened a door to this incredible opportunity and then slammed it in my face. 

I had a bit of an argument with my mother about it, although I knew I wouldn’t win. 

That made me feel about ten times worse, because she just cemented the fact that I couldn’t do it into my brain over and over again until I basically wanted to cry with how unfair it was.

She said, “Unless there’s a talent scout coming to see you to give you your big break, you’re not doing it.”

By the way, thanks for taking my biggest dream and mocking me with it, that really helped my mood. 

Maybe I thought that if I convinced my mother that I could do it, the universe will fix itself and everything would be perfect. 

Oh, I’m so frustrated. When am I ever going to get this opportunity again? Why now? 

I know that this isn’t the worst thing that could happen to anyone ever, but I thought that, for once, this could actually be my chance to live my dream, even a tiny bit. 

Apparently the powers that may be don’t want me to be happy.

Sorry for ranting, but I am really upset. 

Love from,


Productivity, or a Lack Of

Dear Emma,

So tomorrow I get my mock results. Which is rather terrifying, if I think about it for too long.

Before Christmas I put so much work in to revise for my mocks, but I do know that I could have done more.

Basically, what happened was I revised flat-out for a solid month before my mocks started, and tried to get as much done as I physically could without dying.

And then we had our first exam, and I realised that it wasn’t as life-threateningly crushing as I thought it would be, and so the amount of revision that I did throughout the actual mock week decreased and decreased until I said I was “ready” for some exams just from simply glancing at a book or revision guide.

I joked about it with my friends, and we “wung” quite a few of our exams in that week, which probably wasn’t a good idea.
FYI, wung is the past tense of wing. Don’t ask.

We realised that the mocks were probably not the most important things in the world, and so we slacked off a little.

I realise now that that probably wasn’t the best idea, because the mocks are the closest things we would get to the tests we’ll have in the summer, and we should have tried as hard for them as we would have for a real exam, so we could know where to improve.

But who would listen to that, when relaxing seems so much better?

I definitely know that from now on I’m focusing a lot harder on my school work than I did in the mocks, regardless of whether I get good grades or not.

But that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into a revision machine, because that isn’t physically possible. I get distracted way too easily.

So I’m going to try to be more productive. I’m not sure yet that it will work, but hopefully it will soon.

If you have exams coming up, good luck! I hope you do really well 🙂

Love from,





Simultaneously Delighted and Distressed

Dear Emma,

So as the title of the post might suggest, I’ve been feeling a mix of emotions today.

Firstly, I received the grade from a Drama performance that I did a few weeks ago, which I was absolutely terrified about. This performance counts for 50% of our overall grade, and I really wanted to do well, because I had worked so hard and stressed a lot about it.

I got the highest grade possible, and I was so so happy: I was absolutely ready for failure, I thought I was just going to have to accept a terrible grade. But I did it. Somehow.

I knew I was going to get the grade last period today, so I did spend a large portion of the day stressing about it, but now I’m incredibly relieved and happy that my hard work actually paid off for once.

And, for the first time, when I was performing I wasn’t affected by the crippling self-consciousness that I normally experience.

Which is saying something, considering the performance that I did was Chicago, which at some parts did make me terribly aware of the fact that I was supposed to be playing a sexy prisoner.

Like how the hell was I even supposed to do that.

Luckily, I was able to get past the sexual awkwardness and, somehow, get a good grade.

But then for the other part of the day I began to realise that it’s now January, I’m back at school, and I have so much to do.

It’s actually ridiculous. There is so much coursework and revision and learning and extra-curricular stuff to think about that my brain is pretty much exploding.

And I’m not even going to mention how much I’ve messed up my sleep schedule in the Christmas holidays.

So yeah, these next few months are going to be pretty stressful, to say the least.

This is such a weird year. We have a leaving ceremony, then go on study leave, then come back for exams, then leave again, then come back for prom, then leave again, then come back for sixth form orientation.

Prom is definitely a story for another time, I want to talk about that actually.

It’s probably bad that I’ve only just realised how much I have to do, but hopefully I will continue to have some level of motivation from now.

How is your school life going? Do you have exams coming up? How are you managing to stay on top of everything?

This probably wasn’t the most eloquent way to sum up my feelings, but it’s definitely a topic I’ll be revisiting in the next few months.

Love from,







Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – THE FINALE

Dear Emma,

This is it! It’s the end of the holidays – I go back to school tomorrow – and it’s the end of Drag and Drop Stories! I love doing this, hopefully I can do future series in, well, the future!

Today’s prompt was suggested by my good friend 3liittlebirds, and she said, “Sam is at school when suddenly a really bad meteor shower happens! All the buildings are being crushed and people are dying and its all really dramatic!!”


We always sit outside at school. According to the entire school, you can’t sit inside, even in the winter. Apparently it shows weakness and ruins your street cred. Thankfully, we succumbed to peer pressure, because if we had been sat inside, well, I don’t want to think about what would have happened.

It started when we thought it was hailing. We can normally handle small showers and just stand stubbornly in the rain, but hail was another story. We all gravitated towards the largest tree in the centre of our school’s courtyard to avoid us or our food being hailed on.

I watched as Ben temporarily left the shelter of the tree and held out his hand. “Guys,” he said, holding out his hand, “This isn’t hail.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorted from the other side of the tree, “What is it then?”

“It’s rocks.”

“Liar,” Jake muttered.

Ben threw a handful of rocks at him.

“Hey!” he yelled, brushing little rocks out of his hair. He realised me and Emily were laughing at him, and threw rocks at us too.

“So why is it raining rocks?” Jake said, picking the last rocks out of his shirt and throwing them away.

“No clue,” Emily rolled her eyes, picking up her bag. “But I have to go see Miss Watson before she murders me.”

“Seriously?” said Ben, laughing, “It’s the first day of school, even you can’t be in trouble already.”

Emily stuck her tongue out at him and walked off in the rock rain.

I began to realise that the rocks falling from the sky were getting less frequent, but a lot bigger. “Maybe we should get our bags,” I said, pointing to where we left them, on a nearby picnic bench.

“Yeah,” said Jake, “Be my guest.”

I rolled my eyes and began to walk towards the table, when suddenly I hear Ben shouting from behind me.

“Sam! Get out of the way!”

I turned around to see a rock the size of an Alsatian speeding towards me as if in slow motion. I didn’t seem to be able to move, when suddenly it impacted, throwing up the earth around it, and I was frozen about a millimetre away from the edge of the boulder.

“Sam!” I saw Ben and Jake trying to get towards me, but then I heard another boulder smash into the building behind me, causing a landslide of debris to fall. Somehow I snapped out of my daze and realised that I was going to have to move to avoid being crushed.

Ben reached out his hand and pulled me over the top of the rock. “Maybe our bags can wait,” he said, trying to crack a smile but you can see he’s visibly shaken.

Jake still seemed frantic. “Where’s Emily?”

I looked over in the direction of the English block. “Oh my god,” I said, and began to run.


This is the end! I’m actually quite sad.

Fun fact: I actually had a dream about this prompt, and I wrote exactly what happened in the dream, although if I had written the whole dream it would have taken about two thousand words!

I hope you’ve enjoyed my week of writing!

Love from,


Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part Six

Dear Emma,

Today’s prompt was suggested by Yazy.

I’m sorry, it’s a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I didn’t have much time today. 


A seemingly faceless man dressed all in black hands me a helmet at least three sizes too big for my head and tells me to put it on. 

“Why?” I ask as innocently as I can, yet my response is a sharp slap across the side of the face.

“Shut up and put the helmet on!” He snaps, hands twitching towards his back, where I know he keeps a pair of machetes, and instinctively I put the helmet on. There’s no point in resisting when you’re just another nameless child to the people who have all control over your life. And the people who can choose to end your life whenever they feel like it. 

Another man appears from behind me, pressing the cold steel of a handgun to my back and telling me to start walking. 

It had been at least a month since they had raided our village, killing everyone they saw. I saw my mother and younger brother running off in the direction of the desert, and my father… To this day I still don’t know where he is, or if he made it out alive. Most people were not that lucky. 

They saw me and my friends walking home from school and instantly took all of us. Apparently we were “more useful” than the rest of the people they massacred in my village. 

And now, thirty days later – I’m counting – my ultimate nightmare is about to become a horrifying reality. Because we have to fight in the war too. 

I haven’t seen my friends since we got separated when we arrived at the camp, and now as I walk towards an crowd of people, all wearing identical helmets to my own, I realise that they’re here, but utterly indistinguishable among the masses. 

I am pushed into line, and given a handgun. It seems like the temperature of my hand drops by a hundred degrees as my body tries to repel the aura of the evil that is rolling off the instrument in my hand.

I can’t use a gun. I never have, and never thought I would. 

They yelled out orders that I somehow missed, and suddenly the people were splitting off in different directions. I followed the person in front of me, until suddenly I spotted a village in the distance, and my insides churned.

Surely they can’t be expecting us to suddenly be on the other end of the conflict we experienced just one month ago; the impact of which we were still reeling from. 
Suddenly we began to barrel forward, and I somehow became one among the masses, just another child soldier. 

Drag and Drop Stories: Series 2 – Part Five

Dear Emma,

Today’s prompt was suggested by Yazy, and she said, “One of your characters family members has been involved in an accident, and is now permanently injured, and is wanting euthanasia, and your character is struggling between deciding to help the injured person and risk imprisonment, or fight to keep her alive.”


It’s hard to be optimistic when everyone around you keeps telling you how hopeless it is. It started a few months ago, when my sister had the accident. I remember sitting in my bedroom – actually doing homework for once – at around eleven o’clock when my mother got the call. I saw her running down the stairs, calling my dad’s name over and over again, saying that Abbie had been in an accident on the way back from a friend’s birthday party, that she was in the hospital, that they both had to leave, that Sam will have to stay on her own, and I remember running to the door and looking at her from the top of the stairs. 

Even after knowing my mother for my whole life, I had never seen her look as completely panicked and terrified as she had that night.

My parents returned at three in the morning and I pretended to be asleep, but their hushed conversations continued well into the night. At that point I don’t think the gravity of the situation had fully reached me, because I spent the night feeling numb.

I must have been in a dream, I thought. A horrifying nightmare, but a dream nonetheless. And in every dream, you have to wake up at some point. 

In a sense, I woke up, because I visited Abbie the next day. 

Sitting in the cold hard hospital chairs that were all painted the same shade of sickly orange, I realised that I had been absentmindedly scratching the back of my hand so much that I had created small cuts in the shape of my fingernails. 

My mum and dad came out of the door to my left, gesturing for me to go inside. 

—  Three months later  —

I can hear her screaming. Today was the first day that my parents returned to work after it happened, now that I’m home on study leave to make sure Abbie’s alright. 

Well, alright maybe isn’t the best word to use. 

I walk down the stairs to the study, or what has now become Abbie’s bedroom. An hour ago I tried to calm her down by feeding her a chocolate chip cookie – something my parents probably wouldn’t have done, but she won’t stop screaming.

As soon as I walk in she begins to screech, “Just let me die! Please! Please, I don’t want to be like this, just let me die, let me die…” 

She dissolves into sobs, but there are no tears falling from what were once her beautiful green eyes. 

“Abbie, I-I can’t… I-” Suddenly I’m crying too, mourning the loss I of her body, her mind, her life. 

She begins screaming again. 



What did you think of this? I’m not sure what I think, to be honest.

Love from,