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Post by suse on Jan 4, 2010 11:39:47 GMT
Oh I can't wait to see whats in this diary, what a great little twist to put in there. I loved the previous chapter too. I didn't even think of her getting her period to be honest. A very enjoyable couple of chapters yet again. I think you are really starting to fall in love with your India character .
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Post by sophie on Jan 4, 2010 11:41:56 GMT
Thanks ;D I'm glad you liked them. I really do like Indy and writing about her. I'm trying to make her quite like Didge but not a copy. I am guilty of putting a bit of me in her, such as fear of heights and love of reading. Can't handle blood though.
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Post by rebeccag on Jan 4, 2010 13:51:26 GMT
ooooh the diary sounds good and I thought about her getting her period but thought it sounded a bit far fetched so yay for me getting it right
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Post by sophie on Jan 4, 2010 15:35:06 GMT
Well done Rebecca! I'm looking forward to writing the diary stuff!
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Post by rebeccag on Jan 4, 2010 15:38:45 GMT
And im looking forward to reading them ^_^
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Post by sophie on Jan 4, 2010 22:43:21 GMT
She stared down at the notebook, clutching it tightly in her hands in case it escaped her somehow. She flipped through and looked at the dates: all from when her mother was twelve. This was too wonderful. She knew no one was coming back for hours but dragged her chair across the room and put it against the door anyway and then she settled onto the bed, opened the notebook and read.
Monday12th April 2004
My name is Bridget Parker and I've come to visit my grandad's farm in Queensland, but we live in Sydney. By 'we' I mean my mum, Miranda, my dad, Steve and my stupid brother, Riley, who's eighteen. I'm twelve. I prefer being called Didge to Bridget, even though it was my brother who gave me that nickname, and Mum always insists on calling me Bridget even though she knows I don't like it. Mum tries to make me do things I don't want to do at all like wear a dress and try makeup, but I hate all that. I'd much be rather be outside playing footy than sit in front of a mirror all day. I had to wear a dress to the school disco last Christmas and the whole thing was a waste of time. They called it the First Year Formal but it wasn't a formal, it was just a stupid disco. Mum made me wear a purple dress and then she went mad at me because I poured a drink down it but I didn't do it on purpose! Jessie made me spill it because she pushed me after I danced with her boyfriend. I didn't even want to dance with him. It wasn't even one of those mushy slow dances, it was a fast song and she'd gone to the bathroom to check her makeup and he just asked me if I wanted to dance because no one was dancing with us. I said okay and then Jessie saw us and she called me a boyfriend stealer and shouted at me. It was a stupid night, I hate dances and I'm never going to one again. Ever. The only thing that was okay about it was that I was wearing a purple dress ad not the pink one Mum wanted to buy me in the shop. I'm also never having a boyfriend, what a load of hassle!
Didge xxx
Tuesday 13th April 2004
Just had a row with Dad. Mum was nagging me about the state of my top, just because it had mud on it, and I was scowling so Dad told me my face might get stuck like it and I asked if that was what had happened to him. He got really mad and told me I didn't respect him or Mum and that I really push my luck these days. I said I was sorry and he forgave me but I can't play footy with him and Riley tomorrow. I shouldn't have said it, I was in a bad mood.
D x
Wednesday 14th April 2004
A really lousy day. I couldn't play footy like I said so Mum said we should have Girl Time, which always spells trouble, and she made me wear mascara and lipgloss. It took about a year. I was surprised at how much older I looked, but Dad and Riley came in and laughed and Dad said, "Good God Miranda, what have you done with our daughter?" so I went into the bathroom and scrubbed it all off. I could hear her telling him off, saying "How do you ever expect her to stop being a tomboy if you laugh at her when she tries to be feminine?" and Dad said, "She's fine the way she is. Let Didge be." "Well, I think you upset her." He tried to say sorry later but I was more angry with Mum then. I don't need makeup and I don't want to stop being a tomboy.
Peace, Didge xxx
Thursday 15th April 2004
I HATE MY BROTHER. I fell over earlier and scraped my knee and it really hurt and I couldn't help it, just a tear rolled down my cheek because it hurt so much, it wasn't even proper crying and Riley told me I was a sook and laughed so I hit him in the stomach but it just made him laugh more. He won't even thump me back because he's eighteen now and I'm a girl, when we we were little we had amazing fights and sometimes I won, but now he says horrible things and just lets me hit him. Mum saw and went off her head even though he started it! He gets away with everything just because he's eighteen and they don't want him to move out. Riley says I'm the favourite but he is really, he's the son they wanted and I'm the letdown daughter who hates dresses and pink and pretty much anything Mum likes.
Love, Didge xxx
India hugged the notebook to her chest. This was something only she and her mother shared, no one could know about this, not even Nan. India was sure that if Nan did the notebook wouldn't be under the floorboards. India was surprised at how her mum wasn't getting on with her family so far - she knew that Nan was girly and Mum wasn't, but Nan always talked about what a wonderful daughter she was and Riley how she was the best little sister. She guessed it wasn't surprising that siblings fought - not that she'd know. Though it nearly killed her to do it, India decided to save some more of the diary for tomorrow. She didn't want to read it all at once, she wanted to savour her mother's words. They had the same handwriting, it was the most incredible thing. She put the diary back under the floorboards. Suddenly her phone beeped, the signal was working, for once.
Indy, we finished earlier than we thought and it's starting to rain so we've started heading back. We won't be long. Love you, Dad xxxx
She decided not to tell her father - she didn't even know why, really. But here was something she and her mother had in secret, it felt like they had a connection. She would read it all, she thought, and then maybe tell. Not much longer they all came in carrying several bags. "Hey, Indy," said her Dad, giving her a kiss. "What did you do all day?" She shrugged. "I just read." Not even a lie. He smiled and said, "You and your books!"
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Post by Bee on Jan 5, 2010 10:38:57 GMT
thats great sophie cant wait for more
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Post by mellochino on Jan 5, 2010 10:44:21 GMT
I'm really enjoying this, Sophie, please keep up the good work =)
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Post by kate on Jan 5, 2010 11:29:05 GMT
I don't know why I've not caught up with this in a while but that last lot of updates were really really good. I'm glad someone else is as fascinated with Bridget and Rileys' backstory as I was, I always liked the little insights they gave and couldn't understand why noone else thought the Parkers weren't great...
I love how much thought you've put into this and the little details like the Declan/Riley handshake, and the thing about how Riley and Marie met.
Really good stuff Sophie, you should be so proud of this...
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Post by sophie on Jan 5, 2010 11:39:35 GMT
Thanks Kate and Lia. I am quite happy with it and I really do appreciate the comments and the feedback. I think it's important that if you have a secondary character you should give them some backstory, even if they won't feature in the story much. I've always loved the Parkers too and was interested in Riley and Bridget's relationship so I'm looking forward to exploring it in the diary entries. I just don't understand why they were disliked so much by other people! Made me sad when I joined the neighbours forums because I wanted a nice discussion and people just bitched about them, was pleased to find the Bridget/Declan thread though. Not sure what to write in the next one so I'll think about it today!
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Post by sophie on Jan 5, 2010 22:24:13 GMT
Riley had come over again for dinner and afterwards India followed him as he went to get himself a drink. "Uncle Riley, did you and Mum always get along when you were younger?" Riley looked surprised and put down his glass. He and his niece got along but weren't known for their great conversations as Riley wasn't exactly a big talker. "Not always," he said finally. "We fought a lot actually. Your mother could hit pretty hard," and he gave a wry smile. India pushed herself up onto the counter and swung her legs. "I never knew you didn't get on." "When we were kids we were a team but we had our fights. It's hard to understand if you don't have siblings - one minute you're best mates and the next you're at each other's necks, then back to being mates again. And it can all happen in one day too." "What did you fight about?" "Why the sudden interest?" "I just want to know." "All right. Well, we fought about lots of things. She used to tell me that it wasn't fair that because I was older I could do what I wanted whilst Mum and Dad controlled her and made her go to bed earlier, so I'd say back that it wasn't fair that she was the youngest and because she was cute she could just get away with anything by blinking those big blue eyes of hers. She looked sweet when she was little but she fought like a scrap-cat. Before we were adopted this group of kids about a year older than her started picking on her, and when I found out I went mental so I went out to make them sorry for it and she was already there beating the hell out of this one boy and the others were just staring. I hit them anyway, no one teased my little sister and got away with it." India looked at him in admiration. "We really were a team, especially before Mum and Dad found us," he said, looking very thoughtful. "We watched each other's backs. And when they took us home for the first time, Mum and Dad, they'd got her this beautiful pink bedroom (which of course she hated but didn't tell them, they worked it out before we even got back after she rolled around in the mud to ruin that pink dress the children's home made her wear) and a big bed with a Power-Rangers doona, but she still came into my room that night and slept in my bed to feel safe. She loved that doona eventually though," he said with a laugh. India was enjoying the story. "But you still didn't get along?" "Like I said, Indy, it's hard to explain if you don't have any brothers and sisters. I loved her like anything and I still do, she's my baby sister and she always will be, but she knew how to wind me up and I knew how to wind her up and that's what we did. When I took a girl home for the first time she told her how I used to be scared of a dinosoar under my bed and how I used to pretend I was a superhero. I went mad at her for that even though the girl still went out with me, so I put a baby's dummy in her pencil case and a rattle in her school bag the next day at school and that set off a whole chain of revenge. Mum and Dad were furious with us. She might have even been getting revenge on me for something when she embarrassed me in front of that girl, I don't even remember." He looked sad. "Gosh, I miss her. She'll always be my baby sister, even if she's gone." He seemed to have forgotton who he was speaking to, he was talking to her like Marie, like to an adult. "Mum's right, you know - she is up in Heaven and she'll be busting her gut laughing at me with a daughter. I'll probably make a right mess of it. And if God lets me into Heaven, we'll probably still be fighting up there, just like when we were kids." He patted India on the shoulder and went back to the sitting room and after a short while she followed him, feeling that she had got to know him better then than she ever had in her past twelve years. India couldn't pay attention to the conversation that evening at all, her mind was wandering, sailing away to imagining Mum's childhood and back to the diary she was aching to get back to reading. "Indy," her father said. "India?" "Hm?" She had zoned out, yet again and he looked at her oddly. "Would you like some crisps?" He held out the bowl. "No, thanks." Something was on her mind, Declan knew. He wondered what and hoped to God it wasn't another boy. After Riley said his goodbyes and headed back home (early, so that he'd be back before Marie, who had gone to see her mother that evening), India started wishing that it was time for bed so she could get back to the diary. As early as she could without it looking odd she announced that she was heading to bed. "Already?" Declan said in surprise. "It's only half past nine." "I'm tired, Dad." "Are you sure?" "Yes. Sorry Dad," she added sheepishly. "I didn't mean to snap." She said goodnight to everyone and headed to her bedroom. Later that night, as Declan, Steve and Miranda also got ready for sleep, Declan went up to his father-in-law and said, "Steve, how did you do it? How did you raise a teenager? Actually, how did you make it through twelve?" He chuckled. "I don't know mate, but I do know you're doing a fantastic job." "Sometimes I think I am and sometimes I think I'm stuffing it up completely. We've had a fair few rows this year." "And that's normal. Christ, I think Bridget was yelling at me and Miranda about something every day her twelfth year, or it felt like she did anyway." "But you and Didge were always so close." "We were, but her twelfth year wasn't her best. She was always saying she wasn't understood and being upset about something. She grew out of it." Declan looked worried and Steve said, "Look, Indy's a great kid even if she is having her moments. She's a lot better behaved than Didge was. I'm not going to say that the next few years will be a walk in a park, but you'll be all right, you both will." "Thanks, Steve." India decided she'd just read one more entry before bed and got the notebook out.
Friday 16th April 2004
I was upset earlier because I got a bad mark for some English work but Riley said the teacher didn't know what she was talking about and that I'm going to play footy for Australia anyway, so what does it matter? He can be a great brother sometimes, why isn't he all the time?
Love, Didge xxx
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Post by sophie on Jan 7, 2010 12:35:48 GMT
The next morning India put the diary in her rucksack and called out, "I'm going for a bike ride! I'll be back before lunch!" "Where are you going?" called back her dad. "Just to the river!" she called back, feeling frustrated. "Have you got suncream on?" "Yes!" "Lots of it?" "Yes!" "Okay, take your phone!" "I've already got it!" "See you later then!" Irritably she left the house and went to get her bike. Parents. Why do they always have to know everything? She made sure the rucksack was secure on her back and then pedalled off across the sunburnt fields. It was hot but not too hot to cycle. She was glad of the suncream. It wasn't far to the river but she was happy to reach it when she did; her legs were sweating and so were her arms. She got off her bike and leant it down on the grass and then gladly released her back of the rucksack. She took out the diary and then sat with her back to a tree and legs in the river. She found where she had got up to.
Saturday 17th April 2004
I guess my English teacher would be happy I'm writing a diary. She'd probably be astonished actually, because I don't like sitting down and reading a book or trying to write something. English gets on my nerves, why can't fire just mean fire? Why does it have to mean all that other stuff, 'symbolise' things? I like science where something is either right or wrong, plus I'm good at it.
India couldn't understand that. She loved English because of it, because just one thing could mean twenty others. Fire could mean passion and destruction, not just flames. But she liked science too, it all slotted in her brain. If only Maths did the same.
I would also rather be outside, kicking the footy. There's nothing like it.
This India could definitely relate to. There was nothing like kicking a football into the back of the net during an intense match, the feeling of winning and excitement, nothing at all.
Well I'm writing this up in my tree. I wish I could live here. If anyone wanted to see me they'd have to make an appointment and if Riley wanted to come he'd have to bring Hummingbird cake and I wouldn't even have to share any because he doesn't like it. Maybe I'd just let him come for the cake. But he's okay sometimes, not this morning though. He found my bra and said, 'you wish!' and I pounded him until Mum tore us apart. Sometimes I can't stand my family, I wish I could live somewhere else, like France, though I guess I wouldn't be called Bridget there, my name would be something like Eloise. Maybe I'd miss Australia. I'd rather just be able to take myself there and back whenever I wanted. Sometimes I don't want to grow up at all and sometimes I do, like today, because no one would laugh at me or make me do things and nag me about where I'm going and what I'm doing and if I'm wearing suncream! If I have kids I'll never make them do stuff they don't want to.
Peace, Didge xxx
India smiled at her mum's entry and she wondered, would her mum make her do things she didn't want to do? She was sure she wouldn't. She wondered if she could get up the tree too. She put a hand on a branch and got her leg up and then her courage failed her and trembling, she lowered herself to the ground. She could never climb, never get her mum's bravery for that. It was too hot. It was nearly noon. Sweating already, she put the book back in her bag and cycled back home, the sun beating on her back.
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Post by Bee on Jan 7, 2010 12:40:31 GMT
thats great sophie! i like how you made the french version of Bridget as Eloise!
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Post by rebeccag on Jan 7, 2010 18:07:37 GMT
Thats great Sophie been loving the last few chapters and the diary entries
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Post by sophie on Jan 7, 2010 18:27:27 GMT
Thanks guys
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