Molly_

United Kingdom

16
She/her
Will fight you if you aren't kind to yourself.

There is nothing else remotely interesting about me that I could write here.
Erm.
No, that's literally it.

Message to Readers

I started writing. This happened. Then I stopped.
You're welcome- I could've gone on for a while.

Have a lovely day! All feedback is good feedback :)

The Chaos of Home

April 9, 2021

Home. 
It's a funny word, really, once you sit down and actually, properly think about it. What is my home? Where do I even begin?

Maybe home is different for every person, even the ones who share the same one. What if my brother thinks of home in a different way to my dad? What if I think of home in a different way to my goldfish? 

(Understandably, his perception probably changes day to day. Daily amnesia paired with eating small rocks can't be too great with the whole, you know, living thing.) 

Personally, I identify home with my books- I have 114 of them and the shelves of my wardrobe have begun to resemble a banana. I have an entire section dedicated to Neil Gaiman books for Pete's sake! There's so many!  

My home is the creak on the third step from the bottom of the stairs or the ninth from the top; it's the greasy handprint smeared across the previously cream hallway wall where a small child armed with takeaway pizza who looked suspiciously like me might've high-fived it for no apparent reason, before promptly trying to scrub it off. Or perhaps home is in the sticker of a puppy in a pink jumper- so old that it's curling at corners- that I sellotaped to the inside of my cupboard once it lost its stickiness. Typically, quite a fundamental component for a sticker. It's been there for 11 years. That's old enough to kick-start Armageddon!^
Seriously. I have materialistic attachment issues.*

Mundane as it may seem, my home is made of compacted moments ingrained in the walls (sometimes literally) rather than one outstanding presence. Whether it be my mum's Going Out perfume wafting through the house as she frantically searches for the keys that are in already in her purse, or my dad's crutches, my home is certainly memorable. 
I've had my mum accidentally call the police on my dad (long story) and had my friends slow dancing with a massive white tiger teddy I won from the fair (another even longer story). Family friends have barrelled drunkenly into the walls and professed the next day never to drink again. 

Remarkably, the house has been here since 1915- survived two world wars and a pandemic, and there's probably a few ghost reading this over my shoulder and shaking their heads. Love you guys. Please don't inhabit my body. 

But seriously, my home isn't just a house. No one's is. And no one's is the same.
My home is woven within me, and me in it, along with my family, my friends, a few dogs (non of which were ours), likely a dozen or so mice, many spiders, three fish, the odd unwelcome guest, and a stuffed fox that was a gift. To me. On my twelfth birthday. From my grandparents. Who brought it from their home in France, where it had lived for sixty years. Happy birthday me. 

Anyway, moving swiftly onwards from that harrowing memory of opening a large ASDA bag (it wasn't even wrapped!) to see an actual dead fox staring up at me, my home is filled with chaos and memories and has enough bizarre occurrences to write a more than decent sitcom and warrants many, many trips to therapy. 

And I wouldn't change it for the world. 


^if you get the reference, I love you. 

*see the plastic sword from Poundland proudly displayed above said Neil Gaiman section; the two Puppy In My Pocket dogs called Cory and Blue Cory (yes, that is why he's called Blue Cory, well done!); several hats; a glass elephant the size of a pea from my Nan (sorry, shouldn't have mentioned it), and every stuffed animal I have ever owned ever. The double ever is quite important there. 
I would like to take this moment to mention that everything detailed in here has 100% happened and the more I wrote about it, the more I wondered when my life got to this point. 

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  • April 9, 2021 - 6:40pm (Now Viewing)

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5 Comments
  • Nyla

    Aww I love this- and the way you write italics makes it seem like you’re talking ordinarily. That’s so cool that you live in such a historical home!


    5 months ago
  • wallflower

    I absolutely love this. The way you described your house felt like I was really there! (Well more in like a holograph form) I loved the part about the ghosts as well!


    5 months ago
  • Lata.B

    This is just so perfect! Omg I love this!!


    5 months ago
  • human.thing

    oh my- i love this.. kfbnhfakahbhd... i have no words, its amazing


    5 months ago
  • Tachi

    yg5fh4r87u3rh85u- amazing- and Neil Gaiman- just Y E S


    5 months ago