Caffled

Hi. Thanks for the review. I like to think that I will complete the story and often sit down to do so. But as time passes I find it increasingly hard to get back into the same 'frame of mind' that I was in when I started writing it. Maybe I'll make it a New Year's resolution and see what happens... Thanks again! Nathan.

Chapter 11: New Boy (Part II) It was immediately apparent, thanks to the maps and flags that were affixed to almost all of the available wall space, that this was a Geography classroom. There were even a few flags pinned to the ceiling. Most of the kids seated in the five rows of three two-person desks were engaged in animated conversations with their desk partners or neighbors or both. There was no sign of the teacher and, as I stood next to Peter just inside the doorway, I didn't know

I'm not keen on trusting my data to nebulous third parties - they generally offer no guarantees if their service goes tits-up. If I was to use them I'd probably put my data in an encrypted container first, if only to protect my intellectual property.

Hi Ricky, Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I've received lots of constructive feedback thus far and I know I've made some mistakes, grammatical or otherwise, that I hope to learn from. As this is my first story I think I'd prefer it to be all my own work, 'warts and all', so to speak. Should I write another story after Bluebells I definitely will get a beta reader / editor and already have someone in mind for the job. Cheers, Nathan

Hi Ricky, After Jon wakes from his bad dream he's thinking about what it will be like starting at a new school in the UK then starts reflecting on how it was for him when he returned to his US school after the summer break. Sorry, if the distinction between then and now was not made clearly enough. Thanks for reading, Nathan

Chapter 10: New Boy (Part I) The delivery guys were very good at their job and had my new desk and chair installed in my room in practically no time at all. It took me much longer to unwrap all of the plastic and cardboard protective packaging than it had for them to manhandle them up the stairs. I had them site the desk next to the window that overlooked Peter's house as there was just the right amount of wall space for it there, plus a couple of spare power sockets. I spent the next

Chapter 9: Preparations Dad had been right, I should have had more faith in myself. None of the questions in the English and Math papers were particularly challenging. The only thing I struggled with, although 'struggled' is probably too strong a word, was the essay. Even then it was more an issue of which, of the three topics to chose from, should I write about. I settled on 'Describe an experience in your life which you found challenging' and managed a little more than the target o

Chapter 8: Henry II Academy "I'm up Dad," I said again, a little louder this time, in response to his second knock on my bedroom door in less than ten minutes. I tried to snuggle down again, pulling the bedding tighter around my body; just five more minutes. But it was too late; that second knock had done its job well. My brain must have decided it would be less effort to wake up than to return to sleep and had totally locked me out. Maybe it was just as well though, because what little

Chapter 7: Turning Corners I looked back through the narrow channel I'd cut in the mass of brambles to find him casually leaning against the fence, both of his hands lightly gripping the top rail and one foot resting on the the bottom one. He smiled tentatively at me when my eyes met his. "Hello again," he said and tilted his head to one side in the way a curious puppy might, "um... whatcha doing?" I opened my mouth and took a deep breath, fully intending to yell at him again. I think

Chapter 6: Encounters "Owww!" My arm felt heavy and my muscles ached as I groped for my cell phone to stop that damn noise. I wish I hadn't set the alarm now. Dad would have got me up sooner or later. I squinted in the direction of my bedside cabinet with blurry eyes and, locating the offending object, managed to shut it up with a slap. I slumped back onto my pillow and, with a relieved sigh, rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Even those small movements felt like torture. I hoped that

Chapter 5: Shopping Trip Dad was crouched in front of one of the cupboards as I walked into the kitchen and uttered a triumphant "A-ha!" accompanied by a clatter of pans as he stood and turned towards me wielding a large iron skillet. "Oh, 'morning kiddo. How'd you sleep?" He asked as we both approached the central island. Dad placed the skillet on the stove top and walked to the fridge. "OK I guess." I shrugged. "My room got a bit hot last night so I turned the radiators down a little bit

Thanks for the review Lisa. I don't have any first-hand experience with anti-depressants but I did do a bit of research before including the Paxil thread in the story. Apparently pediatric doses should be lower than the typical adult dose of 30mg and many prescribe 10mg to start with. There is also concern over the increased risk of suicidal thoughts in pediatric patients in the early stages of treatment with Paxil. I did try the storyline with Jon taking Paxil but didn't like the result so I decided he could manage without them. Maybe his Dad brought them with him. Who knows? ;-) Next chapter in a week or so. I'd like it to be sooner but writing this is not as easy as I thought it would be and it's especially hard to stay in the right frame of mind to write it from Jon's POV.

Chapter 4: Moving In, Moving On Dad beckoned to me from the now open front door and I quickly got out of the car and, moving as fast as my slightly stiff legs could carry me, dashed through into the small entrance hallway. Dad stepped out again to collect our bags from the trunk but was back in practically no time at all. He placed our suitcases to one side and I reclaimed my backpack. Shedding our coats he hung them both in a cloakroom off to the right of the front door. "OK Jon, yo

Chapter 3: Arrivals Dad was still fussing over me and I was starting to feel claustrophobic. Usually after I have that dream it takes me a little while to compose myself and push the guilty feelings to the back of my mind so that I can function, at least at a basic level. At home my bedroom was my refuge, a place where I could wrap myself up in a cocoon of bedsheets and forget about everything for a while. Now, at 35,000 ft up in a crowded cabin, I didn't have that luxury and I desp

Using too much flowery language can come over as pretentious or contrived. Simpler is best wherever possible, IMHO.