The Young One - Short Story

Written By Reuben Roper

I am drowning in this awful silence. Guttering, choking, drowning. It's so dark. All I see is a white spotlight coming from my window, and that's all the light I have. My friends on the ropes above me are there. I try to call out to them, but I can't. The only sounds I make are mindless gurgles, and some sort of an alien language. It's like my lines haven't been written yet. Like I'm yet to begin my story.

A few months ago my life changed completely. For the first nine ages all I saw was darkness, and it was cosy and warm and I had all the food I wanted. And then suddenly-BANG! A bright light in my face, it's suddenly freezing cold, lots of people poking and prodding me. After being put in a warm blanket I was nestled down next to the nice lady , who seemed strangely familiar...

Now , I'm stuck, lying on my back, the people above me not giving me an answer, and above all, I'm hungry. Well, I know what to do.

I yell out (this usually works) and then the nice lady comes in with the liquid again. It's like a five star hotel! And just by crying! Imagine that, crying? Well I can definitely handle crying.

In the morning, I'm doing that consuming-thing again. It doesn't taste like much, but I guess it's what I need. Then the lady comes over with my best mate, Brian.

'What's this?!' she says. I try to say 'What do you think it is, you spanner, I've been sleeping with it for four months' , but all I could manage was a grunt.

Later , the nice lady has to go and do something else, so the older lady. I like her. She says 'Hello, sweetie pie!', and her Nice Man is older too. He's very funny, and the side of his head is all soft. Later on, I'm put into the metal things that vibrates, makes everything move around me (by the way, I'm sorry that I'm not very good with words or names, my lines haven't been written yet) . She leaves me with the lady with the different voice.

It's funny, now I think about it, but out of everyone who I know , even though she has a different voice, I understand her more than anyone. She says funny things, like 'dame un beso' and 'Agua' . When she says this, she gives me a kiss on the cheek and gives me a cup of that see-through liquid.

Later on, I go and see Leafy. Leafy is my special friend. She and her Nice Lady are friends with my Nice Lady. She is kind to me, a lot, and sometimes she holds my hand. She has the one name I remember. We go on little outings together, to that Lego fun-place. She sometimes tells me words, and I remember them, just like that!

One of the things I envy about Leafy is that she has a Nice Man. You know, the men-types that hang around with the Nice Lady people? I wish I had one of them . The Nice Lady's brother is sort of like a Nice Man. I can't remember what they are called. What are they called? Oh yes! That's it. Daddy's.

I saw something today. Something I haven't seen before. My reflection. I saw it in the roundy-roundy clothes-thing. I saw that the person in the reflection was moving at the exact same time as me. I realised that I was small, very small, about one or two feet. I had short hair, blue eyes, a button nose, and very small hands. This is what I saw.

I never knew I was so little. I thought I was so old. But then again, I used to think life was only nine months long. But now I'm thirsty. My Nice Lady isn't in the room, and I'm thirsty. I can't cry this time. Not this time, I'm too old for that. I'm a big boy now. Remember, remember what the lady with thee different voice taught me. Yes! I remember!

“Agua!”

Yes! I've finally said it!

“Agua!”

This is amazing! What a breakthrough. I need to say it louder. I need the Nice Lady to hear me so I can get it.

“Agua!!”

She comes speeding in. She looks so happy. She hugs me and praises me. I try to say “Look, I know it's a breakthrough, but I want my drink” , butt all I manage is a grunt. Well, I suppose Agua is good for now.

But now I know all the names, like Leafy told me. Mummy, Water, Biscuit. The Nice Lady taught me some words , too. Nana, Dapper, Benji, Dave. I like Dave. I'm sitting in some shop in the wheel-seat, talking to him. I'm asking him to be my Daddy.

Well, I don't know what will happen next. But apparently , I'm young, and I've got lots to come for me. I want to end up like Mummy and Daddy, and I think I want to do that pretending thing that Mummy does a lot. I like what is going on. But, if it's true what they say, life is only five years. I better make the most of it, and I'm enjoying it so far!

Poorly

Morning! You're probably imagining me saying morning in a happy, jumpy, excited way. That always happens with exclamation marks. But no, sorry guys, I'm not so good. I was a bit sick last night so I'm having a PJ's day. And I'm not so sure what to do today so I decided to write another blog post.

So this morning I was feeling a bit creative , and I wanted to make my own Doctor Who Action Figure. I have a lot of Doctor Who merchandise and I have a lot of Doctor Who action figures. I have also got a lot of Unofficial Doctor Who merch. I make my own DVD's of my own episodes. I have always wanted to make my own figure of myself. So , in the end I basically hacked up my Eighth Doctor figure, and all I have left is the head. Oh well, I think I'm going to design it first.

Anyway, I'm also trying to write my new series of Doctor Who, as I have released a brand new episode onto YouTube. I'm not sure what to do, partly as I don't have a very good camera (hoping to get a new one for Xmas) but still, I'm now going to tell you what happens when I'm poorly.

So, when I've been sick, or had a cough, or whatever, I'm not really allowed to eat, which I think is pretty good, seeing as my body probably can't take it. Mum will go and do the school run , and when she gets back I take my bed-covers down to the sofa, and we watch something like The Wright Stuff or Loose Women. Not the best of TV but it still makes me feel little. I always want to watch Jeremy Kyle but I don't usually get to. Its Mum's choice when I'm ill.

At eleven I usually try to have some toast, and if I keep that down then I get to have lunch, which is usually something like soup or baked beans on toast, or just some sandwiches. I then go on to maybe watch a film or something like that.

Usually I get better within about 24 hours , but if not , I stay at home. This morning I did try to do some maths, I did that for about an hour, and now I'm onto this :).
So , sorry if this has been a little boring, I'm just a little bored myself . Hope you enjoyed this, I'll be seeing you soon.

Love, Roo xxx

God Hates Goths?

Hello fellow bloggers! How are you all doing?
I can't hear you , and I'm not listening. No, I'm joking. I can hear you. So I've been doing very well at the mo, but a few days ago I was browsing on the net for Gothic News, all about the subculture(If you're new to this blog then you'll find out by strolling down that I am a bit of a goth and I have a soft spot for the gothic subculture), and I ran into this website called 'GodHatesGoths.com'.

http://www.godhatesgoths.com/

Well , for starters , this was a big no-no in my book. I was deeply offended just by the name , and then I stupidly read on. It had some very interesting 'information' of the goth subculture and I can at least say that this blogger hasn't done any research. This is how it all started:

''GOTH IS A SICK, DEPRAVED AND VIOLENT SUB-CULTURE. IT IS A SUB-CULTURE IMMERSED IN THE OCCULT, VAMPIRISM, WITCHCRAFT, DEATH, HORROR, RAPE, SUICIDE AND PERVERSITY.

WHILE ALL SUB-CULTURES ARE INHERENTLY BAD, GOTH IS THE WORST OF THESE SUB-CULTURES. BY DEFINITION THEY ARE “SUB” (ie. LOWER OR INFERIOR) TO NORMAL HARD-WORKING CULTURES. AS IN ‘SUB-STANDARD’ CULTURE. THEY DO NOT PROMOTE ANY VALUES THAT BENEFIT SOCIETY. THEY DO NOT PROMOTE ANY VALUES THAT MAKE FOR STABLE FAMILIES. THEY DO NOT PROMOTE VALUES THAT POTENTIAL EMPLOYERS FIND APPEALING. NO FORTUNE 500 COMPANIES WANTS TO EMPLOY SOME DRUGGED-UP LOSER WITH PAINTED NAILS, NOSE-PIERCINGS, TATTOED ARMS OR GREEN HAIR.''

Well, there are certainly alot of things I could correct him on, but luckily enough I am not a correction-Nazi. I would just like to say how this has deeply offended me, and I can tell you alot of good things about Goth's. 

I know plently of people who are goths and have jobs. Being a goth isn't exactly cheap, with the black teeshirts, spiked collars, studded belts, and skinny jeans. I know goths who give reading lessons to children. I'm a goth myself , and I volunteer at the foodbank. I personally know two very nice goth girls, one who is very hard working and who I could easily see as a psychiatrist, and another who is homeschooled and quite frankly hilarious.

I looked up the person who wrote this article and made this website, and his name is Reverend R.G Green. My opinion is that he is scared of any originality and imaginative ideas on this rock that we call Earth. I think he is a sick, failed experiment that the goverment tried to make to stamp out any originality. He has taken this way too far. Take a look at this extract.

'' I recently had a grieving mother mail me, to enquire where her 14 year old daughter's soul was. Her daughter was a Goth, and an open Wiccan and vampire. She had abandoned the Church, turned her back on God and embraced Satanism with both hands. At the tender age of 12 because she had thrown it all away because of so-called harmless books such as Harry Potter, which leads children into the 'exciting' world of magic - and away from God. Though her daughter was a self-confessed 'witch' when she died, her mother was foolish enough to tell me her daughter was with the angels. Of course this angered me greatly, and I wrote back to tell her exactly where her filthy daughter’s soul was. Burning for eternity in eternal torment in the fires of Hell, suffering for all time because of this so-called 'harmless life-style choice'. ''

I'm sorry but that is just sick. Telling a person who has lost their baby that their child's soul is burning in the depths of hell is just disgusting. This man has said that the Goth subculture is a cancer and that goths are more dangerous to children than pedophiles. If you pardon the word, but what I load of absolute crap. This man seriously needs to understand what goth really is , and if he calls himself a christian then he seriously needs some counseling.

I'm really sorry for my rant but I am truly passionate about this and I hope I do not find a website like this again. But what is your approach to this? Do you agree? Or are you slightly scared by goths, because if you are that's okay. Its purely a matter of opinion. 

Thank you very much for reading, and have a great weekend. 

Meeting Myself

(We pan into the bedroom window of Reuben's Room. Its a messy pig-stye covered in Doctor Who DVDs , Posters , and other Memorabilia. Reuben is sitting up, playing on his new phone when he's supposed to be having a lie-in like his mother told him to. He looks at the photo's of his past self on his wall . He sips from the cup of tea that is on his desk. And suddenly he spills it all over his lap, saying the worst words he could think of.)
REUBEN: Son of a Nutcracker!
(A small skinny boy in a black futuristic cape and mask is in the room.)
REUBEN: Who are you?
BOY: I'm your past self. Don't you recognize me? Scruffy long hair, bluey-green eyes, covered in sellotape from making things, dressed in a Darth Vader costume?
REUBEN: Oh.
BOY: Ring any bells?
REUBEN: Ah. Well how did you get there?
(The boy gives Reuben a what-do-you-think look)
REUBEN: David Tennant turned up?
BOY: Yeah.
REUBEN: So, I'm guessing you wanted some advice for the future. I'm guessing from those red eyes that you've just come back from school. Bully trouble?
BOY: No. Okay yes. How did you know?
REUBEN: Duh, I'm your future self.
BOY: Ieuan said that Doctor Who isn't real. I think he is.
REUBEN: Of course he is.
BOY: And he said the TARDIS will run out of petrol. But that can't happen because the TARDIS will go on forever.
REUBEN: Yes. He's still on now.
BOY: Really!
REUBEN: Yeah! Guess what! David Tennant comes back in 2013.
BOY: David Tennant leaves?! Oh no.
REUBEN: And so does Rose.
(The boy looks stroppy. He soon calms down.)
REUBEN: So you wanted advice. What do you want advice on?
BOY: Maths. I don't understand it. Mum says I still haven't learnt my number-bonds . But I don't even know what they are!
REUBEN: It's easy. One add Nine is Ten. Two add Eight is-
BOY: You sound like Mummy. What did you do to your hair?
REUBEN: I've dyed it! I did it on holiday in Swanage.
BOY: You look like a girl.
REUBEN: Says you, with your long hair! I wouldn't worry though, everyone will have it like that soon. Even Harry Potter!
BOY: I'm not allowed to watch Harry Potter because of the scary dog in Prisoner of Azbin.
REUBEN: Azkaban.
BOY: Whatever. What about other stuff in Maths?
REUBEN: Well, when you get to year Six you start learning about this thing called Algebra.
BOY: Algy bra?
REUBEN: No,  algebra.
BOY: Whatever.
REUBEN: But it puts letters and numbers together.
BOY: My worst nightmare. Except from losing my Sonic Screwdriver.
REUBEN: Don't worry, you'll get another one. A better one.
BOY: Okay then. Oh, and that's the other thing.
REUBEN: What?
BOY: Girls.
(A long pause.)
REUBEN: Ah. Well don't go out with them. Not until you're Sixteen.
BOY: But I'm only eight!
REUBEN: No way. No girls. Listen to Beth Teo! She will tell you not to have a girlfriend, but if you do it's got to last five years.
BOY: But India is so-
REUBEN: Shh!Oh yeah. I just want to say. I know how you feel about your Dad.
(He sits next to him.)
REUBEN: You don't have to be scared of him. He won't do anything. He's just a silly man.
BOY: I wish my step Dad would really be my Dad.
(A single tear drops from Reuben's face. )
REUBEN: Oh mate. He is.
(They have a long hug)
BOY: Will I be a big film maker when I'm older?
REUBEN: Yep. And you'll have a laptop and a camera, and even a TARDIS!
BOY: Cool!
REUBEN: And the best part is that you'll have friends .
BOY: Really?
(The boy is utterly taken aback.)
BOY: I don't believe you.
REUBEN: You will. I promise. And soon you'll be having a big party with them. A grown-up party!
BOY: Awesome.
(He hears the sound of the TARDIS from outside.)
BOY: Oh. I better go.
REUBEN: Just so you know , you'll be taller than Mummy soon.
BOY: Oh yeah, I forgot to say, I taught Indy to say 'Bottom'!
REUBEN: Haha, nice one.
(They give each other a high five.)
BOY: It's been great meeting you.
REUBEN: It's been good to meet you too.
(The boy starts walking to the door.)
REUBEN: Oh. And one more thing. Spend more time with Jacob. He'll be a great mate.
BOY: Okay.
(He goes to the door.)
BOY: Thank you.
(He walks out. The wheezing groaning sound of The TARDIS leaves the room. Reuben goes back to his business as if nothing had happened.)


Written by Reuben Roper, aged 13. 

Angry At Moffat

Is there anything you loved that changed and now you are grieving over it? Well I am. I don't like change. One thing you won't know about me is that I am autistic, and autistic people don't like change at all. So heres one of the things that's been stressing me out.

I'm really angry at Steven Moffat, the current script writer of Doctor Who. I have been for a while now. And in my quest to show the level of unhappiness I'm likely to use what I would call timelord insults, and I just want to check that this reader would hopefully understand these insults. So , if you don't watch Doctor Who, then I would advise you to stop reading right now. Go and have your lovely beans on toast.

So here's why I am angry at Steven Moffat.
You see, when Matt Smith came in , I never really liked it. It wasn't the same as Russell T. Davies (the previous writer, who does indeed have a his photo on my Doctor Who Shrine) . Russell gave it fun, and curiosity , and it was just great . I felt welcome in the show of Doctor Who, partly because David Tennant was my Doctor(The current Doctor at that time), and partly because the writing was just so brilliant.

But then, Moffat had to change the opening titles and music. And that's another thing. The title music at the beginning of the theme , during the dum-de-dum's...What was that? It sounded like death music! It sounded awful. And then they had to keep it for years and it was just awful. But that isn't the reason.

And THEN, Moffat got rid of his Doctor Who godson, no not the crack in time, but Matt Smith's eleventh Doctor! Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for Peter Capaldi, he's already coming up to being one of my favourites just from the trailers. But as soon as I got used to Matt, he had to leave. I remember watching his regeneration of Christmas eve, and afterwards no tears came out so I just stared into space feeling my heart crack into pieces. But that isn't why I'm angry at him either.

Here is why I'm angry at him.
On December 4th, I read in Radiotimes that Matt Smith was suddenly the thirteenth Doctor. WHAT? Sorry , but in MY version of Doctor Who on YouTube (Comment , rate , and subscribe) I portray The Thirteenth Life Of The Timelord. I'm sorry, Mr Moffat , but what gives you the right to mess with my show? Will you be using YouTube Video Downloader , and editing out whole scenes of my episodes?!I think I ought to write him a letter:

Dear Steven Moffat,(or should I say Idiot Moffat)
Why on earth have you made the eleventh the thirteenth?
It's all about You You You , isn't it?
Axing Matt Smith's Doctor and his stupid floppy hair.
You Suck ! You Suck! YOU REALLY REALLY REALLY SUCK!
Yours sincerely, Mr .J. Peoplelikemeactuallyexist

Okay. That was a bit scary. Lets just say that I forgot to take my anti-Depressant today. That was a bit off. Just so you know I may be like this a lot. I'm very sorry , Mr Moffat. If I meet you one day this will be very awkward . Please don't stop me from being in Doctor Who as ManShotByDalek. Thank you whovians.

A Different Day, A Different Costume

I don't know if anyone else in the world does this, but I have realized that I do some very weird things when it comes to clothing. I am quite into fashion (Ha! Gayyy!My friend Will Storer will know what I mean!) But I'm more into costume design. I have said in my blog before, I am a bit of an individual. I wear very different clothes to a lot of other people. Sometimes, I wake up and decide "I think I'll be a Goth today" or "I think I'll be The Thirteenth Doctor today" or "I'll be a Hipster".

I do this nearly every day. Because of home-schooling I have many choices in what I want to wear (no uniform!), and I have many looks. Here is a list of looks I have sported for the last year:

-Hippy
-Steampunk
-Hipster (fake glasses, bow tie)
-50s Dude
-Surfer
-Emo
-Scene Guy (Google it!)
-Kiss Band Member
-Grandad
-Victorian Gentleman (complete with fob watch)
-Sam Jackson (Just to clarify, a t-shirt with a checked shirt over it)
-Songwriter (beany, white t-shirt, guitar)
-Billionaire (sunglasses, iron man chest!)
-James Bond
-Female Cleaner (Don't ask)

I don't really know why I've suddenly started doing this. I guess I just feel comfortable in everything I wear. I think it comes down to creativity, but I'm really not sure.

I'm also very into coats. Its a generational thing. My Granddad (although I call him Dapper, clue in the name) has about a thousand coats, shoes, and suits. In the sixties he was a Mod, but his mum wouldn't let him have a scooter. He wraps his shirts in tissue, keeps his coats locked up, but lets me see them when he's in a good mood or feeling hyper (which is most of the time). Because of him I know that when I'm a granddad, I'll be called Dapper too, and I'll be a cross between my Dapper and John Hurt.

Because I'm an aspiring actor I am used to being in costume, for plays, film-making, and also just for fun. And yes, I enjoy it a lot. It makes me feel like a kid again. And that's another rule :

Make sure you're always feeling younger. 

Being little is just great. Watch a video of Kerry Ingram acting as Matilda on YouTube, as her portrayal of Matilda is just stunning and the whole meaning of it is that it's great being little. So do that for me. Go to your wardrobe, dress up a bit, be daring and go out in the worst colour clashes, odd socks and the most ridiculous shirts. Have a laugh, because God loves everyone and doesn't judge anyone for what they wear. What he cares about is your heart. So do that for me. Have a laugh.

Labels

Labels. What are labels? Labels to you and me can look like little pieces of card or plastic that are stuck onto bits of clothing from H&M or Superdry (Yep, that's right, I'm a Goth that shops at Superdry ;) ) . But I'm talking metaphorically. About 60% of you will groan and go, "Oh great , metaphors, the one thing that I had to slave over in English class". For the other 40% , I'm not too sure what the reaction would be. But let's get down to business.

The labels I'm talking about are the ones which seem to define our personality, but that's not always the case. When I say labels , I would take a look at a teenager, for instance. When people think of teenagers, they think usually about five things:

 
 
 
 

-Messy Rooms
-Raging Hormones
-Greasy Hair
-Grunting
-"Am I Bothered?"




This is never the case. Well, maybe some of the time. Most of the time. Okay, 99% of the time. But still, the point stands. These are all labels on teenagers. What about a label on a teacher? What would that say? Maybe something like this:

-Thinks they know everything
-PERFECT clothing
-Cardigans
-Immaculate Hair
-"No chewing gum!"

But that's not the case either. I'm home-schooled, and even though she can drive me mad , I wouldn't have anyone else but my mum teach me, as she is never like this and used to be a secondary school teacher.

Some labels are true, and some aren't. My labels are:

-Whovian
-Stroppy Teenager
-Semi-Goth
-Singer
-Filmmaker
-Actor
- Nerd
-Individual

Yep. A lot of labels, I know. But some of those are totally true. We have labels as soon as we are born many of which are entirely true: Girl, Boy, Baby, Brother, Sister, Son ,Daughter, Love-bringer, Laugher, Biter, Smiler (No, not the one from Doctor Who), etc. etc.. 

But many aren't true. When you look at a person dressed like I was yesterday (when I woke up and decided "I'll be a Goth today." I'll write a blog post about that soon) you might get a certain reaction.  You might get a lot of questions like :

-Do you worship Satan?
-Why do you wear dog collars?
-What's with the spikes? They look dangerous! If you shake someone's hand they'll never get it back!

They're all random questions, but they can also take the form of labels. They can be seen as 'Yob, chav, Satanist, graveyard walker, show off, spiked weirdo or scary '. I see these as untrue labels. I just don't believe in them. They're not right, they make you feel bad, and they're just altogether rubbish, because I am not a Satanist, I am, in fact, a Christian! I'm not a yob, I've actually got good manners. I'm not scary, I'm actually really friendly and a bit of a softie. And yeah, a complete show off.

So here are two of my golden rules:

Never automatically believe a label, it might not be true.

Never judge someone from their label, you can't see what's inside.

So I will finish with a question for you. What's your label? What's your True Label?