Eurovision Story Contest?
I've been looking at my English books from my old school, and I got sort of freaked out when I saw that there was an essay thing entitled, 'Eurovision Story Contest'. Now, if you know me, you'll realise that I am obsessed with anything to do with Eurovision (I even ha, even though it's all political now, and the UK haven't got a hope in hell of winning. We definitely won't this year anyway, all the candidates we have are either has-beens or wannabes. Brian Harvey, Liz McClarnon, Scooch, Hawkins & Brown or Big Brovaz, anyone? Please, not Big Brovaz! The only one that isn't a has-been or wannabe seems to be Hawkins & Brown. Beverlei Brown is just a professional singer, but... you remember Justin Hawkins, right? Of The Darkness? Is the image of him cavorting in a white catsuit in 2003, wailing, "I beeeeellllliiiiiiieeevvvvvvve iiiiinnnnnnn aaaaaaaa thhhhhhhhhiiiiinnnnnnnggggggg callllllleeeeeeeedddddd lllllllllloooooovvvvvvvvvveeeeeee..." firmly etched in your brain for eternity yet?
No? Here's a little reminder, then:
Hmm... why did this post turn into something about Eurovision? Eurovision is still a month away. *goes off to check the title*
Oh yeah. The whole point of this post was to tell you I saw an essay/short story in my English book entitled 'Eurovision Story Contest'; it's sort of weird, as I don't remember writing it at all, and if I did, I was in a very weird mood when I wrote it. It also doesn't have anything to do with Eurovision, which totally and utterly sucks. I feel like posting it, for some strange reason. So... er... enjoy...?
And if you hate the story, please bear in mind that I seem to have written this last year, when I was still a sweet little girl without a dirty mind. Ahem.
Please be warned that the following story that you are about to read is even worse than an actual Eurovision entry, and may contain clichés, sentences that don't make sense, and cheesy one-liners.
I do not accept any responsibility for loss of sanity or brain cells.
"Alex, I hear you've been through a traumatic experience," he whispered gently. At last, gazing into his reassuring brown eyes, she felt that she could at last have some peace...Eurovision Story ContestAlex waved energetically at her grandparents as she fought back the urge to cry. She clambered blindly onto the worn leather seat of her motorbike and sped off. In her rush to get away, her helmet lay forgotten between the handlebars.
"If my mother calls," she shouted behind her, "Tell her I'm going to marry Max no matter what she says."
The rain lashed down as Alex rode into the darkness. Too late, she realised that her helmet was missing. Raindrops washed her face, impairing her vision.
She could see lights in the distance, so took her hand off the handlebars to wipe her eyes. A mistake. Suddenly, there was a blinding light.
Screech. Slam. Bang.
Her inert body flew through the air. As her body thumped to the earth, blood oozed from her skull. And then, darkness...**********************************************************************************************************************************
...Whiteness. Alex squinted into the glare. Her eyelids flickered, rebelling against the harsh light. Sharp pain seared through her body. Her head pounded, everything else felt weak and limp. Alex glanced around, trying to absorb her surroundings. Struggling to escape from the bed, she realised with panic that her legs refused to obey her.
Shocked, Alex realised that she was lying in a stark white hospital room. She looked around for someone... anyone... as the memories came flooding back.
Reliving the screeching brakes, the dazzling lights, the thudding pain along her spine and the splash as she hit the ground. Reddening rainwater. The scream of the sirens. And a man's voice saying, "Alex, no!"
"Max? Max?" Alex rambled uncertainly. "I can hear you... Are you here?"
A shadowy figure loomed in the doorway. A shiver of cold air rustled the sheets and the window rattled softly. Gentle, invisible fingertips smoothed her cheek. The foot of the bed was depressed by a surreal force. Someone was sitting beside her - but how? Alex was having difficulty remaining calm as she sensed an evil presence enveloping her. Over the next few days as she began to emerge from her coma, Alex had recurring sensations of fear.
After one particularly terrifying afternoon, a wave of security began to wash over her as the comforting form of the local vicar sat at her side.
Isn't it ironic that it's Red Nose Day, and I'm talking about Eurovision already?
HAPPY RED NOSE DAY!
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