They Don't Understand

Happy. Cheerful. Never miserable. That’s what they thought. I know they did. A shop keeper with a loving family and always full of life. Giving advice that always helps people. I do it to get rid of them. To stop any social contact around me. Stop the agonising questions like, “How is he?”, “Oh he’s so brave” and “You’re so strong to look after him.” They think they know us, know me. Affectionate relationship with an injured husband. Ha! Affectionate? More like trapped. I became trapped the day I married him. I only had children to please my mother. I married him for my mother too. Now she’s gone and left me, what am I supposed to do? Stay here?

 

She left me the day she became ill. Every day after that was just fate taunting me about how my life has been and will go. I was happy- well almost. When she told me she hadn’t had much longer to live, I was confused. ‘Why? There’s nothing wrong with her.’ Even just before she went I thought she’d get better. That’s why the odd phone call from my apparently upset sister confused me.

“Mum’s died.”

“What? No she hasn’t.” I thought. She did though. And the worst part? Is that she was with her. My, what I can only call related to due to DNA, sister was with her. Why was she allowed to be with her and support her in her last moments, when for the last 3 years whilst our mother was ill, she was off gallivanting about in Australia.

We were close when we were younger, inseparable in fact. Then the big 1-8 came along; she had her own life to live. That’s what she said, when she went. It was only meant to be a year travelling the world before she went to University. Truthfully she did come back a year later and go to Uni. Nevertheless, she decided it wasn’t for her and left after a month. My mum looked like she was fine with it but I knew. I knew she wasn’t happy, and so neither was I. She was supposed to be an older sister and be there for me when I needed her. But she wasn’t. She was away and would only occasionally answer her phone to speak to me.

 

I could have been different, lived a different life that had different outcomes. I could be like my sister. No husband, no children. Nothing to hold me down. Travelling the world with my friends and making new ones on the way. Learning new skills; having only few possessions, which is good because it won’t be pulling me to the ground.

To the ground.

It’s funny really, to the ground. Eventually we’ll all be under it. 6ft under and gone. What would it be like? Your own personal heaven...or hell. Either way we’d be free. Free from the stresses of everyday life. Wouldn’t that be just amazing? No troubles, no worries. Perfect, right?

 

But I’m stuck, stuck in a life. In a world.

The Stress That Is Ellie

Ellie realises that she is about to be going to a place that could drastically change her future - also known as St Brendans Sixth Form College. She is terrified, petrified even, but with a hint of excitement at the thrill of the unknown. This could be a new start and for her to make new friends. It should be one of the best times of her life.

However, there’s is one problem. How is she going to handle the stress of college life? Essays on top of essays, stress after stress after stress.

And on top of all of that, she has to go home to her, loves to embarrass at any chance they get, parents, her perfect in every way little sister and just annoying older brother. Sure, they are normally pretty great to be around but when pressured with tons of homework, their mix of attitudes doesn’t exactly help her.

All she wants to do is sit down with a big tub of ‘Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food Ice cream’ and watch countless episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Nonetheless she can’t do that for the rest of her life

Questions start to form in her head and anxiety starts to build. What if no one likes her? What if her old friends abandon her and she’s left on her own for the next two years of her life? What if her taste in music and questionable fashion choices damages her social life? What if she doesn’t have a social life to begin with? What if her deficiency of height at a minuscule 4’10” is a problem and she can’t reach anything? What if she gets lost on the bus and can’t find her way back?

What if the clumsy gene she shares with her brother and gained from her mother, causes her embarrassment through the two extensive and dreaded years of college?

As she considers all of these disastrous questions she feels what can only be described as ‘pee in your pants terrified.’

Is she going to succeed in College?

Will embarrassment and cringe-worthiness take over her existence as usual?

Will life do what it has a tendency of doing and throw plane crashing sized problems her way?

My Idiolect

My Idiolect

 

I think I have many influences and factors to my idiolect. My main influence is people. I have grown up in Bristol and so have been surrounded with many different types of Bristolian accents. My family have quite strong accents which they have passed onto me. Other people who influence me are my friends. Around them I suppose I speak slang a lot more.

 

However this is different when around people I haven’t met, don’t know as well or in power, like; teachers and interviewers. Then I try to cut my Bristolian accent out and speak more formally. I use fillers quite a lot which I try to avoid doing. Examples of these are: ‘like’, ‘uh’ and ‘um’. These are normally used when I’m uncomfortable or feel slightly awkward in the situation.

 

I don’t swear but I, like everyone else, do use insulting words. For me it’s normally to siblings and these are normally ‘idiot’ and ‘stupid’. I usually use the word ‘amazing’ to explain something good. I naturally pronounce the ‘ing’ a lot more.

I would describe my voice as small, which can sometimes cause problems in conversations, as people can’t hear me that well. In conversations I also unconsciously gesture a lot. If I know the person well, I sometimes correct them. My position in conversations is with my hand on my hip or my hands playing with my nails.

 

The final factor to my idiolect is media. I think this influences a lot of teenagers now and it’s causing us to sound less formal. We are starting to mirror the people we admire like actors, singers and other media characters. I think that this is something that we need to stop doing as we will soon end up sounding and talking in the same way and not unique.